On the 216th fall, Practice's eyes finally turned lifeless as he laid on the training area's cold ground, gazing at the night sky.
Walking before him, Kaiden held out his sword, asking in a calm tone. "What are you?"
"...Worthless."
"What are you!?" Kaiden's voice raised in volume as his gaze chilled.
"! … I'm...I'm...lost."
"WHAT ARE YOU?!" Kaiden's roar resounded through the atmosphere.
Biting his lip... tears formed in Practice's eyes as his body trembled "*HIC!*, Abandoned..."
Swallowed by the despair of his past, Practice blanked. Wallowing in the ocean of emotional turmoil, the horrors once again flowed through his mind as he witnessed his traumas in that instant.
With the way the events flowed, he was more of a spectator than the victim. However, he understood that he was indeed the one experiencing this turmoil.
….
In the Lenshua district of New Metro City…
The district was one that could be called at best—neglected. The streets were unattended to as they were littered with numerous potholes and protruding cracks. Driving down these streets would inflict horrible damage upon your vehicle.
By no means was the life of every citizen happy-go-lucky. As in any realistic society, there existed places in which the conditions were just horrifying.
With that being said, within a rundown shack, poorly maintained. A young boy sat before a man who held a bottle of liquor in his hand. Holding a note, the man's eyes flooded with rage.
"THAT WENCH! HOW DARE SHE LEAVE ME?!?!"
'BAM!' roaring, the man slammed the note down on the table as he breathed heavily—chest heaving.
Frightened, the little boy shuddered as the loud slamming noise sounded.
The note, laying on the table contained a simple message:
'I can't take this any longer, every day is the same with no avail. What's more, you waste your life away abusing me and drinking. Therefore, I am leaving. You will take Lance, goodbye, Kevin.'
That was the day Practice—rather—Lance Ethans lost his mother. Or should I say the day his mother abandoned him. How could a young boy continue without the gentle love of a mother? Not to mention, with a drunkard father.
Simple, he would have to survive instead of live. Two completely different concepts. To survive is to live but to live isn't to survive.
Survival was a primal instinct brought about in dire situations. To live was to exist without the influence of those dire situations. One would rather live than have to survive. For if one had to struggle to survive due to primal instincts they would revert to their base selves—a feral beast.
"Why are you shivering over there you little runt? Have I ever hit you? Stop being a pussy!" said Lance's father as his words slurred due to his drunken state.
Indeed, the abuse his father inflicted was directed towards his mother. Never once had he hit his son. However, to say he never abused his son was a lie. Indirectly, as he abused Lance's mother, Kevin abused Lance.
How could an 8-year-old remain emotionally stable if every night like clockwork, they overheard the drunken yells of their father and pleading cries of their mother? Exactly, this was indirect emotional abuse—which is arguably more dangerous than physical abuse. To both the person of infliction and the potential victim(s) of that person's haggard outlook.
"Man up you little twerp."
Nodding his head like a hyperactive pigeon, Lance stuttered as he gripped his shorts. "O-okay...okay!"
"Hmph.." waving his hand, Lance's father Kevin staggered into the room but not before knocking over everything in his path, slamming the door to the room.
Alone, Lance sat in the room that housed a bleak atmosphere.
"Mommy… *HIC*..."
Crying—a stifled cry, Lance called out for his mother. He didn't know anyone besides his parents. And now, one was gone apparently. The one he depended on the most for that matter.
To make matters worse, from that day forward, Lance's dad appeared less and less. And when he did, he never looked Lance in the eye anymore. As a result, the days where Lance should be enjoying himself in a carefree manner—his childhood—became bleak.
What's more is, this wasn't the peak of his hard times. As the months passed, Kevin began to become repulsed by the fact that Lance reminded him of his mother. Until the fateful day, when lost in a drunken rage, he slapped Lance.
*POW* *PAP* *PAP*
Like he was a ragdoll, Kevin smacked Lance around as he staggered in his drunken stupor. "Dahmit...y-yur the reason for our prahblums. You don't understand dew ya...everything was gud...until you came...ya fawking twurp."
*SNIFFLE* *HIC*
"Stop it… *HIC*" cried Lance as he held his wrist to his eyes, wiping his face.
"SHUT AHP! I don't wanna hear yuh." slurred Kevin.
In that manner, as he was drunk beyond belief—Kevin spent a decent amount of time, releasing his pent up anger in the form of slaps delivered to Lance. This was a trauma one would never forget, although one could grow from it...one would never forget.
That night, Lance laid in bed unable to comprehend what he did wrong to deserve this life. He felt no love from his father and his mother who previously looked after him, abandoned him.
"Mommmy… please… *SNIFFLE* Please come back for me… *HIC*"
It was a pitiful situation when a 9-year-old was already contemplating the state of their life. That just went to show the differences between people's situations. Although this wasn't an everyday situation, whenever his father's blood alcohol levels reached obscene amounts—this was the event that followed.
However, this didn't continue for as long as you would think. Within 2 years, 4 days after his 11th birthday—Lance's father drank himself to an early death. As a result, without a parent or suitable family to look after him, Lance was sent to a group home. Once there, his life just became an even steeper downward spiral. Being catapulted into a foreign environment was never good for a child—more so for an environment where the child isn't shown the quality care needed for a pleasant life.
Sitting in his room, outfitted with cold marble flooring, a rundown uncomfortable bunk bed with a rickety metal frame. Lance sat against the upper wall in a dark room. Although the room had a bunk bed, he was situated alone.
*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*
A series of knocks sounded from the door as it was time for his daily meal. Opening with a creak, a middle-aged pudgy woman with an above-average face opened the door. In her hands was a plate of still warm food.
"Come eat." said the woman plainly.
Nodding, Lance hopped down from his bed as he grabbed hold of the plate as he headed to the lunchroom. While walking, he inspected this foreign place he had been in for a while now. Every day, he wished for a speck of light in his life yet every day, he felt himself plunging deeper into the embrace of the abyss.
Behind him, the middle-aged woman licked her lips as if she saw a nice toy. Unfortunately, she became another source of his despair. As a result, his mindset was further warped. However, his tragic story didn't end here.
2 years later, during his first year of high school, he ran into his source of self altering trauma. High school...was never as easy as you thought it would be.
During his first month of school, as if he was deemed to be some type of easy prey. Or an outlet for their own issues. A group of 6 boys confronted Lance—only, it didn't seem to be any hostility at the beginning.
In fact, they acted as if they sympathized with his feelings, and with the 7 boys began to form a "bond". That was until Lance realized, the only reason they got close is so he would follow them without the need for them to use force.
3 months into their "friendship", under an abandoned bridge, the 6 boys smirked to each other devilishly as they signaled at each other behind Lance's back.
Unknown to Lance, one of the kids crept up behind him and…
*THWACK*
With a nice sized stick, one of the boys wacked Lance on his back. As he fell, the other boys began trampling on Lance with kicks, punches, and many other blows of the sort. Curling up in a defensive ball, Lance failed to understand why these people he saw as friends would do this.
"W-Why are you doing this...Stop…" pleaded Lance.
"Haah!? What do you think… that we are actually fucking friends? Tch who the hell would want to be friends with a useless twerp like you. Only an idiot could not see this coming. Exactly why would boys like us hang out with you?"
"Stop…"
"Shut the fuck up you pussy, an easy target like you should keep their mouth SHUT!" at the end of their statement, one of the boys forcefully kicked Lance. Of course, as they were only 13-14 they didn't have much strength behind their blows. But still, their target was their age.
"Ooffm…" Lance gasped when he was kicked and then his eyes turned lifeless as he mumbled.
"Mom abandoned me...She didn't really love me… Dad drank until he abused me... then he left me… Ms. Loretta she…."
"I thought... I had friends...but they weren't my friends… I was their prey… Their emotional outlet… I am worthless…"
At that moment, Lance's mindset passed his limit and truly broke and the consequence was what happened where a starving beast was pushed to the brink of death—their survival instincts kicked in.
The look in Lance's eyes changed to one of unsuppressed rage and madness. What's more, this rage became a split entity inside his mind completely isolated from his usual self. That was how much rage he contained—it was potent enough to form its own identity.
The air around Lance changed as he looked the boy closest to him in the eyes.
"What the fuc-" stopping, the boy saw the demon-like look in Lance's cold dead eyes as he trembled for a moment.
"You think you're tough? Looking at us like that?" Another boy went in for a kick to Lance's face, however, it was stopped before it reached.
Holding his ankle, was the now struggling to stand Lance.
"You know, it's not nice to kick someone while they're down. How about I break your leg so you learn a lesson?"
"W-what's wrong with this - A-AGHHHHHH!!!!"
*CRRR-CRACK*
While talking, the boy was interrupted by the excruciating pain coming from his knee causing him to wail and scream.
"Come on now, I barely did anything to you. Let me share with you what you did to me."
*POW* *POW* *POW* *BANG!*
Holding the kid's hair, Lance continuously delivered blows to his face, finishing the kid by slamming his face into the cement.
"Now, I believe it's time for the rest of you. You wanted a fight? Come fight. Or maybe let's up the ante. Let's…."
Showing a devilish smile, Lance stepped forward. "Murder…"
"T-this kid is insane! RUN!" yelled the leader of the group, however, Lance was already en route to pick up one of the sticks used to beat him. Like immature kids, they all ran in the same direction—making it easier for Lance.
"Didn't think you guys were so stupid." picking up miscellaneous bricks one after one Lance flung them hitting various places on the crew's bodies. The leader even took a brick to head causing him blackout.
That day, although no one died...Everyone involved in that incident suffered irreparable damage. However, we weren't talking physical damage as with the future technology injuries could be unmistakably dealt with.
From that day on, Lance was never the same. Although he remained a timid person, inside him now laid a dormant beast—one that was untamed when it presented itself.
One day, when he felt it was a regular day—a man approached the group home to receive him.
"Hello Lance, I'm Anthony—your uncle—your mother's brother. From this day forward, you'll be leaving here and living with me."
Nodding, Lance gathered his things as he spared Ms.Loretta one last glance before leaving with his uncle. Looking at his sturdy back, Lance felt perhaps he may be walking into the speck of light in his life that he was looking for in his life.
Although it wasn't horrible, when he went to live with his uncle. His life found order albeit strict—he had no complaints as there was no foul play. Just the simple stern love of a family. Although Lance didn't designate this to be the speck of light he was looking for, Lance accepted it. Even if it paled in comparison to unfiltered parental love...Lance embraced it.
….
As his lifeless eyes gazed at the night sky , amid the loud roar...it regained a spark of light.
"WHAT IS OUR NAME?!"
"E-Ethereal Conviction…" stuttered Practice as his body trembled
"Louder…Show the pride you feel to be a part of this family."
*HIC!*, stifling his cry, Practice strained his throat and the veins in his neck protruded. "ETHEREAL CONVICTION!!"
A second roar that sounded as if it came from a wolf awoken from despair sound—shook the residence atmosphere once again.
"What do we persevere with?!" roared Kaiden.
"TENACITY!" cried Practice sharply as his tears fell continuously.
...
"From this day forth, you're my hidden blade. Never again shall you feel worthless. Never again shall you feel abandoned. Always remember, you have worth beyond your knowledge. You will be my little brother. When you are unable to go another step, I will support you. When you are unable to withstand your weights—I will protect you."
*HIC!* *HIC!*
At this moment, he found it… he understood. This person who was similar in age to him—they would be his light. No. He was already becoming his light.