"Genius! He's a genius!"
Trevor grinned, his eyes sheened gently. He could feel his teeth clucking each time his opponent's sword clashed with him, but he still gawded him with slapping curls at the edges of his lips, "Don't hold back thinking I am a kid, Prince Krat!"
Gnashing under his puckered lips, Krat let loose a fury of attacks, each deflected barely by Trevor.
"How compelling! I remember young master Trevor to only be seven years old... yet he's already going on par in swordfighting against a twelve year old boy... Apologies, the Prince himself!"
"Our young master is a prodigy! He's surely to be a reckoning force on due time... a great aid to the kingdom."
Trevor couldn't help chortle hearing Gruis's praises. His heart throbbed in fiery flames and his pores, riding the wave of excitement, jutted out.
Compelled by the invigorating rush, his sword tore past Kart's defences and zeroed in on his neck, "BRACE YOURSELF!" he hollered with spit jumping out of his mouth.
But before the expected red shower sprung to life, Trevor's sword froze. His eyes hovered weakly atop the grin stretching to Kart's ears.
"Just kidding!" The sword in his hand morphed into a large blade of grass, and he stomped forward and swung clean past his neck.
"AAAHHHH!!" Trevor's eyes snapped wide under the pain which he failed to find the lack off.
"Wha–" He gasped, his hands feeling around his neck softly, "Nightmare?"
His eyes lost lustre, and a twisted grin painted over his lips, "Hahaha! How can that dead bastard prince even kill me?"
"Young master!" The door thrust wide, and a servant— whom Enix would've recognised from his birthday as Trevor's chair puller— gasped in, "Is everything fine?"
"Uh, Yoae? Yes, nothing more than the usual." His laugh turned hollow before sliding into a fit of coughs.
"Here master, water!" Trevor took the glass, and staring into the wall while fiddling with it, brought it towards his lips.
But before the coarse and chewed lips could ripple its pure surface, his sight fell upon its reflected image.
Yoae's face brightened from some thought, and he hurriedly pulled up a file, "Young master, please check this report. I was told to inform you the results are crucial... and that there's some issue."
But seeing his words fall on deaf ears, Yoae awkwardly placed it beside the bed, on the side table.
Trevor's lips trembled, his lashes flapping haplessly. From the water, a youthful boy about seven grinned back at him. His eyes big and beautiful, and his face bright and sparkly.
With a few blinks, time seemed to catch up to it, and, despite still young, it looked nasty like a drunkard— unkempt and colorless.
Yoae fliched as the glass shattered at his feet. But he maintained himself firm and stood in submission.
After groaning for a while, Trevor exhaled and pushing himself to the edge of the bed, threw the blanket aside.
He closed his redening eyes, massaging his nose bridges hoping it could ease the sting.
But as he sat there in peace, the unnerving stillness began to tickle his nerves again, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU WORTHLESS SERVANT? WHY ARE YOU NOT DRESSING ME SHOES?"
Yoae's eyes fell into Trevor's with a shiver, his mouth hanging slightly loose.
"Now you dared match me eye to eye?" Trevor exclaimed incredulously, his heart leaping.
"M-master!" Yoae cried out.
"I see," Trevor nodded, lost in thought, "I see! YOU'RE TIRED OF YOUR JOB AREN'T YOU? FINE! I SHALL FIRE YOU! FROM NOW YOU ARE DISMISSED YOU WENCH! NOW OUT OF MY SIGHTS!"
Yoae's eyes fluttered, after taking a lengthy silence to recollect himself, he finally broke and asked in a solemn and sombre creaking voice, "What should I dress, young master?"
Lines pulled back from Trevor's eyes, his wide lips stretching out and twitching, and his head rigidly— like an old rusty iron gate—moved from Yoae's face to his legs.
But wait, he only had one leg... Huh? What? Where did his... leg go?
"Ahghaa!" An incohorent scream broke loose from his throat, his eyes pulled into bloodied apples, "WHAA!"
His hands shot toward his thighs, his bursting force flipping him down the bed and crashing face-first into the floor.
"Young master!" Yoae collapsed to his knees and supported him up.
Hearing his gut-wrenching screams, even his cold heart warmed for the moment.
After a while, neatly dressed but looking even more haggard than usual, Trevor was travelling in his wheelchair down the passage. His neck leaning forward, his dilated pupils lost into emptiness.
But soon, as he advanced, some other sound joined in alongside the crunch of the wheels.
The sound of crisp wooden impacts after the fierce exhales, the gentle tremors of the ground following the solid stomps, it all brewed to form a clear and vivid image in front of him.
His spine trembled, a rush of heat traveled to his ears. Raising his head, he stared forward. 'That's the Training Grounds.'
Some sweet memories bubbled up in his thoughts, to sprinkle some salt on his wounds, and he beckoned Yoae to rush forward. His ears plagued by the haunting words– Genius! He's a genius!
"H-How can this be? Our young master is nine years old! And... and that child is just a three year old toddler!" The color drained from Gruis's cheeks.
As Trevor reached the door, and his sight fell atop his brother contesting against some puny child, his thigh began to convulse terribly. His palm sealed his retching mouth, his eyes goggling at the exchange in horror of a passed night.
"They are going toe-to-toe!" Ufrra muttered, hearing her sister's worship in the process, "Charming Prince is so powerful! And cool!"
"Ah, Fria! I think you have given him enough pointers!" Enix cried out, "That's enough!! I don't think there's a need for you settle this fight, conclude this with good face."
Hearing his words, Fria distanced and grinned, "Ho! You noticed I was about to get serious? Hahaha! Nothing beats you, you're the best!" A grin adorned her face as she exhaled heavily inside, 'This was getting tiring... I would've lost if this dragged on.'
She wiped the sweat away from her forehead and nodded toward Jurju, "Good work, cousin! Some twenty years more of practise and you may reach my current level."
'Twenty years more of practice to reach your level? No! Your current level? You're three for heaven's sake!' Gruis nearly tripped, 'W-What are these abominable children? Are they really... three?'