Eleven Years Earlier
2035
Jez was three years old, and already he was strong. He had several pictures along the hallway of his house of him holding first place trophies, his mother proudly beside him and his father, well, threatening to beat him afterward if he did not try harder. Jez had been used to his father's abusive behavior, and now tried to do his very best to please him. That was the one thing he wanted, above all, his father's love. Right now, his father was teaching him how to fence so he could win the next fencing tournament. Jez held his sword with two hands while his father held his own with one, swiping it through the air as though it were a feather. Jez had been trying to practice with a sword for a week or two, and he was improving with every attempt. However, he was not a match for his father.
His father disarmed him within seconds and, for good measure, let his rage take over as he slashed his sword through the air twice. Jez fell onto one knee and burst into tears, looking up at his father while holding his bleeding face. "Get to the gym. Train. I want you to be fitter, stronger and faster before our next lesson." His father instructed, tossing his sword aside and then leaving the backyard where he decided to train his son. Jez fled as quickly as possible, fully running to the closest gym to his house, the school gym. It was only four in the afternoon, so the school was still unlocked. Jez took the advantage to slip into the large school gym. Punching bags, multi-purpose mats, treadmills and weights were in every corner of the gym, and in the center was a large boxing ring, where people would train against one another.
Jez lifted his hand from his cheek and looked at it, seeing it stained with red. The blood had apparently stopped coming, but he had a feeling there would be a scar. He approached the nearest punching bag and ran a hand over it, feeling the unevenness inside. Instead of rice, or flour, or sand, these punching bags were full of small round pebbles. Jez's father had instructed it to be that way because he believed the harder the surface, the stronger it would make the person training. It seemed like a good theory, but Jez knew it would hurt. A lot. He took a deep breath and then threw a punch the way his father had shown him. He punched with his left fist, quickly followed by his right, and then repeated the process until his hands came away raw.
He trotted tiredly over to the treadmills and set it to a slow speed, slowly walking along. He did that for ten minutes before growing tiresome and then moving onto push-ups. He barely lasted doing four before collapsing onto his face. He was only three years old, why was he being put through this much hell and torment? He barely remembered what happened next. All Jez remembered was leaving the gym and headed back home, passing several other Zodiacs as he went. He barely even remembered approaching his front door, because the next thing he remembered was being in his bed, the sun gleaming brightly through his window. He looked around, and then his bedroom door swung open. Jez flinched slightly, but then realized it was his mother entering his bedroom. "Hey sweetie," she said, a small smile on her face as she approached his bed and leaned against the edge.
"Your father may be hard on you," she began, her voice somehow filling Jez with hope instantly, "But he only wants the very best for you. Do not give up sweetie. It may feel like you're alone in all of this, but I love you very much." Jez even let a small smile appear on his own face as his mother leaned forwards and kissed him on the forehead, then standing and leaving his bedroom. Jez concluded it must have been the next day because the sun was still shining, so he got out of his bed, stretched and then felt his cheek. There were two diagonal lines he could feel, forming a cross on his left cheek, but Jez quickly took his hand away and slipped out the front door. He began running, his feet pounding the ground as he started sprinting.
He ran on and on, feeling as though his lungs were about to explode before he came to a stop in the school gym. His mother had her way with words, and no matter what, she always inspired Jez to be greater and better. So he immediately approached the punching bag closest to him, raising his fists and striking, hard. It swung a little, and Jez struck with his other fist, making the bag swing with more force. He punched again, and again, and again. Every strike pained his knuckles, but he now learned to ignore that pain, taking out all his anger and frustration into each blow. He stopped, catching his breath, and then headed over to the multi-purpose mats, where he began doing push-ups like the day before. He did not stop when his arms grew tired, but he kept pushing up and lowering himself, sweat already dripping from his forehead.
He stopped when ten minutes passed, feeling satisfied with himself before finally approaching the treadmill. He set it to a hard setting and began running. It seemed easier on the treadmill, considering he was not running up any hills like those that he had to when running to the school. He finally had a reason to collapse from exhaustion, but that tiredness only lasted a couple of minutes before he was on his feet and training again. He trained as hard as he could for the first time, only realizing how much his arms hurt when he began making his way back to his house. He knew there were cameras in the gym, so there was a definite chance his father could see him training. He arrived home twenty minutes later, only to hear laughter coming from the house. He opened the door and stepped inside, seeing his mother with her back to him, talking to someone.
The door swung shut, and she turned with a smile on her face. "How'd it go, kiddo?" she asked kindly, and Jez laughed, "It went great, mom!" She nodded, smiling, and stepped aside to reveal a girl the same age as Jez. "Don't feel tired now, you have a visitor," his mom said, and the girl instantly said, "Jez!" Jez smiled even brighter and he ran forwards to hug the girl, "Zara!" His mother went back into the kitchen to continue cooking, and Zara looked at Jez with kind eyes. "Want to go play in the forest?" she asked, and Jez nodded without a second thought. Zara giggled loudly and began running towards the front door, Jez just behind her. "Be sure to be back before sundown!" Jez heard his mother shout, but he was already out the front door and sprinting alongside Zara towards the large oak trees that belonged to the Black Forest.
"Come on!" Zara yelled from ahead, darting between trees and leaping over large tree roots, Jez in hot pursuit. Suddenly, she disappeared amongst the trees, and Jez skidded to a halt, looking around in wonder. Where could she have gone? All was silent, not even birds were chirping, and that gave Jez a sudden feeling of dread. How far had they come? He had never remembered the birds of the Black Forest to suddenly stop singing. He began slowly stepping forwards, straining to hear any kind of noise at all. Surely, Zara had not just vanished before his very eyes. There was a loud crack, and Jez was too slow to see the figure charge at him from behind a tree, tackling him around the middle and sending himself and the person down a small hill that was covered in dead leaves.
Jez looked over to the person who had just attacked him and found himself staring into Zara's laughing face. "You are mean," Jez pouted, getting to his feet and brushing the leaves from his hair. "I am also very clever," Zara laughed. A whine cut through the air, making the two children jump in fright. "What was that?" Jez wondered aloud, and Zara stepped towards where she thought the whine had come from. "It sounded like it came from over there," she said, pointing out before her, and Jez hurried to catch up with her as she ran off again. "It could be bad!" he tried warning her, now feeling his sides start to hurt as he sprinted. Then he found Zara stopped beside a tree, looking down with her hand over her mouth. Jez slowed down to be beside her and looked shocked. They had found what was whining. It was a brown, stray dog, its back leg caught in a bear trap.
"What are we going to do?" Zara asked quietly, and Jez looked around before finding a thick tree branch and then bringing it over to the dog. "Try and open it," he said, but Zara shook her head, looking afraid. Jez sighed, knelt beside the trap, and used his hands to slowly pry it open. "Put the branch in!" he suddenly shouted, and Zara did just that, grabbing the tree branch and jamming it between the teeth of the trap. Jez let go and looked down to find his hands slightly bloodied, but he did not care. He had, of course, been through much worse. Jez reached forwards and gently lifted the dog's leg out of the trap, wincing as it yelped loudly. Once it was clear of the trap, the dog lay still, shaking all over in shock. "How are we getting him out of here? It's too dangerous for him to be out," Jez muttered.
Zara's face suddenly lit up as she had an idea, and then she gently fit her arms underneath the dog and, ignoring Jez's protests, lifted it up. "My daddy is a doctor, remember?" she said, and Jez made an 'ah' sound as he too remembered her father's occupation. "I can carry him back home. It shouldn't take long," she said, her voice sounding light and breezy as she began walking back. "Sorry we couldn't play for longer," she said as the two swiftly moved through the thick forest, but Jez shrugged, "It is ok. We found a dog, so it was not that bad." Zara chuckled, and the two continued talking about random things as they approached the town where they lived. "I'll take it to his office. My dad will know what to do," she said, and Jez nodded, watching as Zara turned down the road and began to walk away.
"Mommy would love to know we freed a dog!" Jez said aloud, and he began hurrying home, his face split into a smile the whole way. He could see his house getting closer, and he ran faster, feeling weightless for some reason. He reached his front door and stepped inside, not realizing that it had not been left open. "Mommy, mommy, guess what we found!" Jez called, walking quickly into the kitchen as he looked for his mother. He fou nd her. She lay on the kitchen floor, blood pouring onto the tiles as she lay dead, a long hunting knife impaled through her chest, the butt of it a bright gold.