by J. C. Fiske
“Now then, just bend your knees and keep both arms out to steady yourselves and lean with the turns if you can. If not, I’ll prevent you from wobbling with my essence and we’ll arrive at Heaven’s Shelter in no time at all. Any questions?” Falcon said, prepared to take off.
“I . . . uh . . . what if an enemy attacks us midair? I mean, you don’t have your sword, you're defenseless!” Rolce exposed his nervousness.
“Well now, glad to see somebody thinking. The answer is quite simple. If I were on a skeet, this weapon of mine would be too big and too clumsy to swing. Hence, I have this angry little sucker,” Falcon said. He reached downward and pulled something off the back of his boot heel and attached it to his fist.
“Knuck Knife, favorite of the Shininjas. Brass knuckles with a surprise . . .” Falcon threw his fist downward in a quick snapping motion and a long, curved dagger with reddish glints flipped around and clicked into place. “Ooooo, pretty huh? Trust me, we will be fine. Any more questions?” Falcon asked.
“I . . . just don’t do well with heights, er flights, oh jeesh,” Rolce said, wiping sweat from his brow. Falcon then grinned a wicked little smile that caused Rolce’s knees to wobble.
“That ain’t no question, that’s a statement, my man. Typical Naforians, always ground ridden. Boy, when I’m done with you, you’re gonna love the heights! And don’t worry about that fire. It only burns someone when I want it to. Now . . . ” Falcon paused and rubbed his hands together in excitement.
“Sky blue! Air breezy! Fly true and don’t get queasy! HAHAHA!” With an uppercut punch, Falcon launched his burning blade upward, shooting straight into the sky, dragging the boys skeets with it at exceptional speed.
Wind rushed through Gisbo’s hair and the sun warmed his cheeks as they rose higher and higher. He couldn’t help but scream with enthusiasm, a big WAHOOOO, to be exact. He stretched out his arms and bent his knees the way Falcon had demonstrated. Never had he felt so free! Never had he been so high! He couldn’t believe the sense of euphoria. Gisbo took a glance down and saw Oak County literally shrink away and saw frantic soldiers scurry about like ants in the castle courtyard. Gisbo shook his head in disbelief, wondering how many times had he wished he could just up and fly away from Oak County like a bird.
What a day for dreams, Gisbo thought, smiling. He looked over at Rolce to see if he was enjoying it as much as he was.
Rolce was bent down clutching the bottom of his board. His face was sweating and white and looked like melting snow. His eyes were squeezed shut and he shook his head back and forth as if to say, This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening. Gisbo couldn’t help but laugh at his newfound friend.
Falcon leveled out and shot forward again at an even faster rate of speed. Gisbo looked down again and was graced with a vista of beautiful lakes, streams and many different birds that flew above the treetops beside them. Falcon turned to look back at him.
“Looks like you got the hang of things, eh kid? How’d you like a little more leeway?” Falcon yelled back. Gisbo quickly nodded his head in agreement.
Falcon gave him thumbs up and the thick rope-like essence attached to Gisbo’s metal board seemed to thin out a bit. Gisbo felt himself begin to drop slightly and it became shakier. Out of instinct, he thrust his arms out further and within no time he had balanced himself. Gisbo found that by leaning his board backward and tilting the front tip upward he could float higher and the opposite was true to float lower.
After some quick practice and test maneuvers, Gisbo was really getting the hang of skeeting. He weaved in and out of the passing clouds and gave a quick peek over at Rolce. Gisbo was so glad he had for, at that moment, poor Rolce was wrestling with a giant eagle he must have collided with while his eyes were closed. The eagle screeched, pecked and fluttered as Rolce held its sharp talons at bay. It was quite the sight and going as fast and as high as they were made it all the more hilarious to Gisbo. He found himself laughing so hard he almost completely lost his balance.
“Aye, that’ll teach ya to keep your eyes shut, eh Rolcey boy? Come on, ya big gallute, enjoy yourself! Take in the views! Ain’t no better air to breathe than the air you’re breathing now!” Falcon yelled back to Rolce. He then took a deep breath and let it out with a satisfied smile.
Rolce gripped the bottom of his board tightly and tried to take a brave look down. One look at the rushing land below was all it took. The big boy’s eyes went wide, then rolled to the back of his head and he passed out, right then and there. Upon doing so, his body collapsed to one side and he dangled upside down on his feet like a sleeping bat. Falcon seemed to slow at the dead weight he was now trailing. He took one look back and laughed heartily.
“Skeetin’ ain’t meant for everyone! Let’s say we kick it up a notch, eh Giz? Going to have to now that we got ourselves an anchor! We’ll be there in no time now!” Falcon yelled. Gisbo gave him a thumbs up and Falcon’s red essence flared wildly with a roar, sounding like the revving of a powerful engine, then compressed itself and shot them forward at almost double their initial speed, heading toward some large mountains in the distance.
Gisbo couldn’t help but marvel at the amount of space they had covered in this short amount of time. It was incredible and here he had thought they had some grand trek ahead of them.
They were now approaching a snowcapped mountain range and, as they grew closer, Gisbo began to make out the appearance of lighted windows nestled within the very surface of them. Upon squinting, he swore he even saw the silouttes of people walking back and forth and hanging out their laundry to dry.
All at once, Gisbo suddenly felt very cold. Looking downward, he saw a blanket of pure white snow covering the treetops. The various ponds and streams were now frozen and glistened like crystal. As much as Gisbo wanted to take in the sights, the cold was becoming unbearable, especially at their speed. Gisbo was just about to speak up when unexpected warmth washed over him. Amazingly, he didn’t even need to ask. Falcon’s essence began to wrap and swirl around him, supplying instant warmth.
“That should be a bit better, eh? Told ya I can heat this stuff when I want to. Don’t worry now, our destination is just within these mountains. I’m sure you’ve noticed our neighboring Sorians by now! They hollowed out most of the mountainside and live within it. They also got a secret city that floats in the sky somewhere. We used to have our differences in the past, but now we are the greatest of allies! They even allowed us to share bum space with the lot of them, opening their homes to us gracefully. This is one of the only places on Thera you’ll find us Flarians nowadays and them Sorians are a fantastic people to let us stay. You’ll come to love their hospitality and their great food as well! Of course, they aren’t the only race you’ll find up here. Every one of ‘em calls this place home. Almost there now. Next stop, Heaven’s Shelter!” Falcon yelled. Gisbo looked over at Rolce. The boy was still swinging upside down, unconscious. Gisbo couldn’t help but laugh once more at his huge unconscious form swinging about lazily.
It was then Gisbo noticed other skeeters in the sky as well, towing what seemed to be other Renegades-to-be, just like him. Many of them waved at Falcon, apparently recognizing him from a distance. Falcon was happy to give a salute back, as well as a few waves. Gisbo did notice that only those with the same fiery red essence as Falcon were doing the skeeting and he supposed it was a technique only Flarians knew. That suited him just fine. He craved learning how to skeet for himself. It had always been clearly stated in his lessons that the only race capable of flight was the Soarian race. He began to wonder what else his schoolbooks were wrong about and how outdated or purposefully edited they must have been.
Falcon began to slow up as he got nearer to the mountainside. We must be getting close, Gisbo thought. He noticed the dozen or so other Renegade skeeters begin to slow down as well. It was then that reality itself began to bend. The Skeeter in front of them outright disappeared. He didn’t just fade away either. The Renegade skeeter was there and then h
e simply wasn’t. Gisbo was taken aback. Falcon looked back and smiled at Gisbo’s reaction as they neared the place where the air seemed to have swallowed up the skeeter. Upon hitting the spot, there was a strange SHWOOP sound and what Gisbo saw next made his mouth hang open. There a large village appeared before them. They had arrived at Heaven’s Shelter.
The beauty of it was breathtaking, like a lost paradise. Taking in what only a few moments ago had been an empty, snowy valley between two mountain peaks, Gisbo didn't trust his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that the entire village was covered in trees he had never even seen before. Sure, he recognized the oak and pine, but these new trees were foreign species that Gisbo remembered learning about in his books. “Palm trees” was their official name, he believed, but how could it be possible? He recalled that they were only able to grow in tropical climates and here they were in the middle of snowcapped mountains!
Gisbo noticed that the warming essence around him had ceased swirling. The air was quite warm now. Falcon continued his slow coast overhead, allowing Gisbo to take in the astounding sights around him. In the midst of the trees, Gisbo could make out hundreds of huts, buildings, sports fields and ponds, but above all, he couldn’t miss the massive golden statue raised high in the center of it all.
The statue was in the form of a gigantic man garbed in Renegade attire, holding a sword pointed toward the heavens. Gisbo figured he must have been somebody of paramount importance. His facial features were highly detailed, even revealing scars. It looked as if it could come to life at any moment. Behind the man stood a needle-like tower that extended past the point of his sword. Small windows could be seen at the top of the tower and oddly enough, Gisbo noticed that it gave off a strange bluish glow. Even on a day as bright as this, it had the effect of an additional sun. It hurt to look at it too long.
Finally, Rolce was coming to. He awoke upside down and immediately began flailing and wailing to regain an upright posture. Falcon saw this and, with a quick surge of essence, Rolce was back in a standing position, knees shaking. He instinctively fell back to his crouched stance, holding his knees and closing his eyes.
"Where are we? Is this Heaven's Shelter?" Rolce asked, eyes darting.
"Of course it is! Welcome, boys, to the home of the Renegades, now your home too. We'll go ahead and touch down and get you two situated. You know, protocols and such, blah blah . . . then we'll get some grub! The chefs have been hard at work preparing for the best barbeque you’ve ever had!" Falcon exclaimed.
The ground looked increasingly welcoming as Falcon lowered them to the entrance. Overhead, a sign in huge, flaming letters in all the colors of the elements read, “Heaven’s Shelter, Welcome Home!" Falcon melted away the bindings on Gisbo and Rolce's feet, freeing them to step onto solid ground. Rolce collapsed with a wheeze, looking just as happy as Gisbo had been zooming around in the sky earlier.
Falcon refastened the two skeets to his back and disengaged his essence. He then looked at his recruits and stretched out his arms under the sign with a grand flourish, as if to say, "viola!"
"Home sweet home! Now if you would just follow me," Falcon said as he spun around with a whirl of his cape and began making his way under the fire-lit sign. Rolce and Gisbo exchanged grins of anticipation as they followed Falcon, taking their first steps into Heaven’s Shelter. It amazed Gisbo that just a hundred yards back they would be in a freezing cold, snow-filled mountain range. How they maintained this atmosphere he had no idea, but he figured he would learn soon enough. They walked upon neat cobblestone roads surrounded by palm trees. Exotic flowers grew at their roots and filled the air with pleasant, sweet smells that Gisbo’s nose had never witnessed before. Past the flowers and the trees however, Gisbo noticed animals of all kinds running about freely, animals he had only seen pictures of. Monkeys cooed and bounced through the branches. Brightly colored parrots squawked in greeting and even bears and tigers walked side by side, eyeing Gisbo’s group suspiciously.
Now getting near the main section of the city, Gisbo saw people walking to and fro, tending to the enchanting scenery. One man was spraying a watery mist over the plants through a ring on his finger. He waved at Falcon as they passed. The whole scene reminded Gisbo of Warlord Karm’s castle earlier that day, however, here, everything seemed so different. Unlike Karm’s place, Heaven’s Shelter did not feel artificial at all. If anything, it felt natural, right. In his wildest dreams, Gisbo could never have known such a place existed and the thought that this was to be his new home didn’t fully register.
They continued walking and Rolce pointed to a towering pole. Atop the pole, a great ball of swirling fire spun. A man beneath it was using a red ring on his finger to keep it powered up. The ball began glowing brighter until it shone like a miniature sun. Falcon noticed Rolce and Gisbo staring at it with curiosity.
"Don’t stare at that too long, boys. You’ll burn out your retinas! Oh, what’s this? It seems I’ve found some more speeches in my pockets. Lucky you! Those fireballs are known as dwarf suns and harnessing their energy is a Flarian technique. You'll find many all about the grounds. They allow us to regulate our own climate so that nearly all forms of life thrive: plants, animals, you name it," Falcon explained, then pointed up into the sky and continued.
"That bubbly energy field we traveled through earlier acts both as a visual shield and as a way to contain this wonderful weather. Every race is required and needed to keep this place functioning. Flarians provide the warmth, Soarians provide the atmosphere, Aquarians provide periodic rain and manage the water supply, and the Naforians provide our plants, landscaping and dwellings. Amazing, is it not? This is the perfect place for us Flarians, since most of us left our old homes in the outer deserts to come here. The last place you would expect a Flarian to be, after all, would be somewhere cold and Karm’s men are still trying to round up the remnants of our society by scouring the deserts of Flaria. There are of course a few stubborn sorts who still live out there, my brother for one, but the general populace now dwell here in the cold winter mountains of Heaven’s Shelter." Falcon radiated pride for his homeland.
Gisbo and Rolce bobbed their heads and turned in all directions, trying to take everything in. As they continued their stroll, Gisbo saw a group of Renegades seated at a table playing some sort of card game. It was Poka, a game Gisbo knew well. The only way he got any cash back at Oak County was through gambling and not too often as he had rotten luck. He noticed that some at the table were not dressed the same way as Falcon. They were all wearing the same headbands and the same color combinations, but some bandana tails were much longer than others. The uniforms were different too. A few sported short, sleeveless robes of varying lengths under the conventional Renegade poncho and others wore masks that covered the lower portion of their faces that extended from their ponchos. The tattooed markings on their arms also ranged widely. Some only had a marking on their forearm and mid-arm, while others were fully emblazoned all the way up their arms.
"Hey, Falcon, why are there different Renegade outfits? Some of their markings are different too," Rolce asked. Falcon turned to see where Rolce was looking before he stopped and responded.
"Ah, well, there are three classes of Renegade, determined by natural talent and skill. The first, oldest and most commonly seen is known as the ‘Berserker Class,’ my class. Our talents are all well-rounded and balanced in close quarter combat, employment of technique and some distance fighting. We are usually a wild bunch and primarily make the enemy focus their attack on us. We train our bodies to be able to withstand major damage and we learn to focus our adrenaline so that it grows more and more powerful as our fury and pain heighten. Anybody can lash out in a rage. To control it and harness it is something else entirely. A Flarian is especially suited for the Berserker class, but with the perpetual expansion of techniques and powers, every race has proven their potential for this class," Falcon answered, then pointed at one of the seated men who was garbed in robes.
"In recen
t years we have added two new classes to the Renegade roster. The one in the robe-like uniform is known as the ‘Nazarite Class,’ our newest class. These guys are pure genius. They train their minds and cultivate knowledge even more than physical prowess. That is not to say that they can't take a hit or two in close quarter combat. Everyone trains in each area to the point of proficiency before choosing the path that suits their talents best, focusing there, and excelling above and beyond typical human capabilities. These guys can make your head spin with their intelligence as well as raw power. Most argue it is the Nazarite who triumphs in one on one combat, but I've yet to see it proven," Falcon said, as if thinking of a certain time he had dueled one. He then pointed to the masked people.
"Now if you want intimidation and fear, look no further then these guys. They are part of the ‘Shininja Class,’ fast, agile and deceptive. If you give these guys an opening, they will have you chopped, diced and shredded within seconds in close quarter combat. The Shininja focus on nothing but speed, power and technique as they train their minds to balance with their body. You'll never find a more reserved individual. They are but polar opposites of the Berserker Class, for Shininja's are notoriously serious and masters of both patience and battle strategy. Experts of many disciplines including acrobatics, poisons, hand to hand combat and dagger use, their special skill set is essential as they tend to suffer more from hits because their bodies are suited to speed and stealth rather than bulk. They follow the philosophy, 'You can't hit what you can't see.' They aren’t distance fighters, but they can wait for days on end for the perfect opening and make ideal assassins." While Falcon continued, the boys ate up his every word, slowly moving past the table, staring at the citizens of Heaven's Shelter. Gisbo noticed the other Renegades explaining the same things to their recruits.