Please Note: This chapter is a FLASHBACK to Joachim's early childhood.

~* FLASHBACK*~

Night had fallen upon the great hall. Joachim stood near the middle of the floor, a sword in hand and his body set at a battle stance. With quick precise swings he guided the sword with his hand and sliced the air with its fine blade. Using movements that resembled a sort of practiced dance, he stepped hastily across the floor, forming his feet into appropriate stances to go alongside his swings. His long robe swished with his steps, and his feet tapped effortlessly over the marble floor. Streams of moonlight flooded through the windows lining the hallway, illuminating enough light so he could see. Like pale blue crystals his eyes glittered in the darkness and a smile pressed across his face when he slashed the air again with the sword and glanced at the starry night sky beyond the windows. Several more times he swatted the air with his sword, but suddenly stopped when another wave of dizziness flooded through him and forced him to pause and stand in place to rest. Beads of perspiration trickled down the side of his youthful innocent face, and his chest heaved breathless pants into the silent night air.

"Joachim." A voice suddenly shattered the silence, and whirled to face the doorway of the grand hall where silhouetted was the tall familiar figure. Their eyes locked wordlessly for a long moment, until he heard the man continue in a calm icy tone. "You did not go to me today, nor dine with me tonight. I thought a loyal son would greet his father after arriving home from a long absence."

He stared with trembling lips, and heard the softened footsteps of his father's boots sound over the floor. "I did not go to you," he began, his voice slightly shaken the longer their eyes locked. "Because you did not summon my presence. You never do, so that is why I did not go to you." His voice firmed when the man came within a few feet of him, and his form finally was revealed under the moon's light.

The man was tall, able bodied and firm, his eyes unblinking to match the straight lined expression crossed over his lips while leaving the faintest hint of a slightly furrowed brow. "Do not be brash with me, boy." His father's voice cut sharply into the air, and rose when Joachim responded by swishing his robes with clear indifference. "The battle is finished and this is what I am to return to? A son who has developed a sharpened tongue that is supposed compensation for his discourteous demeanor? What shame you bring our family by behaving like one of those heathen bohemians."

"I bring our family no shame." Joachim retorted smoothly, his voice remaining calm despite the pounding of his heart against his chest when his father's lip twitched. "Do you expect me to abide by your demands whenever it pleases you? If you wish for company, then seek it with the servants of perhaps your lady friends. I am preoccupied at the moment."

A cool laugh escaped through his father's somber lips. The lord walked forward and placed a hand on the young man's head, his fingers ruffling his silky white hair. "So, you have also developed a streak of insolence." Joachim listened to his father address him and looked up into his pale blue eyes that glinted warningly. "I have risked my life to protect this land and support your existence here. I expect you to be gracious and obedient when I return during my time of rest."

Joachim's lips curled into a sneer. "You are not here enough to ask something like that of me." He glared up at his father and slowly took a step back, however he felt the man's fingers suddenly grasp his hair in his hand and yank on it powerfully.

"Be silent!" the man's voice firmed when Joachim gave a cry and struggled against his grasp, however the young child was held firmly in place. "How unsurprising it is for me to know that you have learned little during my absence. I suppose, my son, I should not expect a bed-ridden invalid like you to accomplish much."

With a fixated gaze, his eyes trailed to the sword clasped in his son's hand. Joachim felt his small fingers tighten around the handle of the blade, which suddenly became heavy in his grasp when another wave of dizziness nearly caused him to drop it on the floor.

"You know as well as I what is expected of you. The battlefield is far from where you shall be when you come of age. Weakness is unbecoming for such honorable pursuits, and it is a pity for talent to go to waste."

"Waste? What do you mean? I am strong, I will someday fight in a battle and prove you wrong!" Joachim's eyes blazed and he nearly raised his hand containing the sword at his father, however with equal swiftness the man let go of his hair.

"You will do as I ask you. Your life is granted here because of me, and you are to honor me."

Joachim continued to stare up at him, his small frame paling in the presence of his father's straight and firm stance that loomed over him. The man had a sleek build and smooth features that reflected much in his son's face. With slow easing movements, he bent over to meet the child's eye level. For a moment his lips did not move, until his hand trailed over his son's forehead and his fingers skimmed the smooth surface of his flesh.

"You are quite persistent and valiant for being so young." His father's eyes narrowed slightly upon him, but with a calm perception his eyes glinted in the moonlight to meet his darkening words. "A child such as you is to do no less than simple tasks permitted by your condition. Sword practice will remain just that – practice. If you did not spend your days running about with that heathen gypsy girl then you would not be so easily stricken by your condition."

Joachim lowered his head and stared listlessly at the floor, but without hesitation the man's hand slipped to his chin and forced his face to look at his once again. "You are to look at me when I address you, boy. I thought I had taught you better than that."

The boy's lips began to tremble when his father's eyes narrowed, however he took in a deep breath and managed to spill in a voice choked with tears. "You taught me nothing! It was the servants and the teachers who raised me and gave me the gifts of speaking, reading, and writing. Why can I not be a swordsman? I have already surpassed that man you paid to teach me. Why do you take no interest in my skills?"

"You have none!" his father's voice rose, and Joachim felt the man pull away from him and nearly shove him away when he stormed passed him and stood with his back facing him to gaze out the window. "You abilities make no difference – you have nothing to offer me in return for existing except your sickness." Joachim's eyes widened and his mouth gaped, but when his father turned and stared at him he did not cease there. "Arabella…she wanted a child so much I could not deny her. I shall honor her wish through you and no more than that."

The man's gaze lingered on him, reflecting like mirrors into his mind. With slow, heavy steps he walked the length of the grand hall toward the large fireplace at the end, not seeming to notice his son in close follow. The boy watched the tall figure stand before the darkened fireplace, and look up at a painted portrait suspended over the mantle in a gold frame depicting a fair young woman with glittering blue eyes and soft long golden hair.

"I don't understand." Joachim finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "I never knew her…"

"Of course not." He startled when his father whirled and faced him again, his eyes narrowing defensively. "So her name is not to be spoken from your lips. A sickly son is of no use to me. I suppose I must see to it you are wed quickly when you are of age."

Joachim continued to stare up at the man in disbelief, his eyes so young with youth and innocence that at first he had not understood what was told to him. After all, he was merely ten years of age, but even so the realization had dawned on him swiftly and entered his observant and thoughtful mind.

"Are you saying the only reason why I exist is to continue the Armster name? Do you hate me that much to disown me? Why not, if I fail either way-"

"No, I would not think that wise." Lord Zaeviean's voice softened, his eyes seemed to melt as if a fire had warmed through part of their icy exterior. "A son, no matter how weak or strong, is valuable. Your mother gave you your name before she died. You are to attend to your studies instead of flaunting about in childish play. I will hear no more from you tonight. I have made my decision in your own best interests."

Joachim's eyes widened into saucers from his father's command. With visible objection, a growl sounded through his throat. "I will do whatever I want! There is no way you can stop me, not you or my sickness!"

"Foolish boy, of course I can stop you if I wish it! My mere word is how things shall be, and if you continue to defy it, there will be consequences."

The man's gaze met his relentlessly, and Joachim's small frame abruptly took a small step back when his father moved toward him with stealth like steps. "You are weak. You are ill. You are my only heir, and the last of our generation. I will not allow a child of merely ten years to make such foolish decisions when so much relies on your survival."

His father stopped when he came within a foot of him, and stared down at him non-blinkingly as if searching through his soul. Joachim had watched the man's smooth white hair fall around his face when he shook his head and turned to walk back toward the door. Lord Zaeviean Armster had the true build of a warrior, which had not been transferred to his son at birth. Tears stung Joachim's cheeks when the man gave him a last lingering gaze before departing out of the grand hall.

"I will not follow your word father. I promise you that." He whispered under his breath once the man left, determined to hold himself to his word.