by J. C. Fiske
“The wolves said they are not going to harm us. They said to just back away from the white abomination and let it have its deserved punishment. Gisbo, I’m not one to mess with mother nature, but, man, something doesn’t feel right about this,” Rolce said.
“Rolce! This is him, this is my Boon! I know it!” Gisbo stated. Rolce looked at him wide eyed.
“This? This is . . . well, it’s a she for one thing. She’s telling you not to leave her here to die,” Rolce said as he shifted his eyes to the pack around them. Gisbo looked at the white wolf cub.
“Tell her not to worry, I won’t let ‘em hurt her,” Gisbo said.
“Remember, she can hear you, Gisbo. I just need to translate for you. You can talk to her, she understands you,” Rolce said. Gisbo ran to the wolf cub and dropped to his knees to face her eye to eye.
“What’d you do, girl? How come they wanna hurt you?” Gisbo asked with deep concern, a concern he had never really had for anyone or anything else before. The wolf looked up at Rolce.
“She says she left the pack. These black wolves killed her mother for having outside relations with the pack. For the longest time she was looked upon as an outcast, never really belonging. They were very cruel to her and so she left the pack on her own and has been traveling for weeks, by herself, completely alone. The pack sees her as some sort of disease in need of purification. They’ve been sending out small groups to do her in and she has fended them off each time, but now the entire pack has arrived. They wish to kill her, Gisbo, as a way of purifying their pack. An honor killing, she calls it,” Rolce explained in a shaky voice, sounding appalled. The wolves began circling, growling around them.
It was then Gisbo noticed all the cuts, scratches, and wounds on the white coat of the wolf cub. Gisbo stared for a moment within the cub’s, no, his Boon’s, eyes. There he saw more than anything, more than anyone could, the same pain he bore. Images began flooding through Gisbo’s head, flashbacks of himself as the outcast and the bane of his town.
The growling wolf pack around them turned into the sneering Black Wolf Pack of Oak County, laughing, pointing at him and circling him. Tears of rage began to flow down Gisbo’s face. The wolf cub felt it too as it took the place by his side and crouched in a growling stance, ready to pounce. Entranced in each other’s memories, the boy and his wolf stood staring at their opposition.
Two lone wolves now formed one, different species cut from the same heart. The boy clenched his fists, the wolf dug its claws into the snow. A calmness enveloped them both as their souls strung together, staring down the impossible situation before them. The boy and his wolf had already made up their mind.
“You wish to fight? You're nuts! Listen, do the math! There are twelve of them! Only four can attack us at any given time, which means we’d have to win three consecutive fights. That won’t happen!” Rolce yelled, voice quivering. Gisbo looked down to the ground and picked up a heavy branch. He looked down at the wolf.
“What’s your name?” Gisbo asked his Boon. The wolf looked at Rolce once more. The pack still circled.
“She said her name in wolf lore means 'crude or ugly.’ She is ashamed of it,” Rolce said. Gisbo actually smiled.
“Heh, somebody told me that you should never be ashamed of a name. The difference makes you stronger. They may hunt you for your difference, but even as a cub you have fended them all off. You’ll do the same now. Keep your name, make it a strength. Now what is it?” Gisbo asked. The wolf looked at Rolce again.
“She said her name is Fao,” Rolce relayed, looking at Gisbo. The wolves snarled and growled as if laughing at her.
“Fao, huh? I think that’s a great name,” Gisbo said with a smile. He could feel the happiness pulsating from his Boon in appreciation. Gisbo looked at Rolce as they moved back to back once more, branches raised.
“Rolce, you need to book it back to Heaven’s Shelter and tell them where I am. If we don’t win three fights, then I’m a dead man. If we do, me and Fao won’t be in any shape to make it back. This is something I have to do alone. You wouldn’t understand,” Gisbo stated.
“What? But I . . . Rolce trailed off, confused, sweating in nervousness.
“Do it, Rolce! Go get help! I won’t get you mixed up in what I need to do,” Gisbo shouted. Gisbo spun and sent a kick to Rolce’s behind as the big kid stumbled forward.
“This is my fight. Go. Let him through!” Gisbo yelled at the wolves as he pushed Rolce hard at them. The circle seemed to open up as they allowed Rolce to scramble back out of the circle, clearly uninterested in him. Rolce looked at Gisbo with utter helplessness.
“Quit stalling! I’m gonna need help! Go!” Gisbo commanded as he threw Rolce’s stick at him. Rolce caught it and looked at his friend…his only friend.
“You’re crazy!!!” Rolce shouted, shaking his head.
“Yup,” Gisbo responded with a wicked grin.
“I’ll be back. Just stay alive!” Rolce ordered as he spun and ran back as fast as possible. Gisbo saw him disappear as he crossed back into Heaven’s Shelter. Gisbo gripped his branch ever so tightly as he looked Fao in the eyes once more.
“Let's show these weak groupies what a lone wolf is capable of . . . the pack has leered at us long enough, let’s beat 'em this time,” Gisbo said as another smile spread across his face. The wolves pounced.
Gisbo let out a furious yell as he cracked a wolf skull with his branch. The stick didn’t break, but the wolf hit the snow, out cold or dead, Gisbo couldn’t tell, nor did he care. He then swung to his right, hitting another wolf who was just inches from tearing the flesh of his arm. It too fell into the snow unconscious. Meanwhile, Fao wrestled a wolf to the ground, holding it off long enough for Gisbo to whack it hard across its skull. With a whimper, the wolf collapsed. Without wasting any time, Fao reared around and threw herself at another charging wolf.
Gisbo continued to swing wildly and managed to land a lucky strike on a wolf leaping toward his waist. Three wolves down.
It was then a wolf pounced onto Gisbo’s back, tackling him into the snow. Gisbo felt the beast’s hot breath across his neck as it tore at his hair, seeking to get through it to the back of his neck, but before it could, Fao was on it as she slammed into the beast’s side hard enough to knock the wolf away. Gisbo pulled his face from the cold, wet snow and before he could react, another wolf jumped onto his chest, pinning him on his back. Gisbo managed to reach up and grab the wolf’s mane. With a strained yank, he managed to pull its snapping jaws away from his throat. Gisbo quickly let go of the wolf’s mane and thrust one hand under its jaw and hoisted it up while he punched and clawed at the wolf’s windpipe over and over again with his other hand until he pierced it with a spray of red. The wolf leapt off him and spun about in a coughing frenzy before collapsing to the ground.
With bated breath, Gisbo managed to rise to his feet and reached down, grabbed the collapsed wolf by its tail, swung it round and round and hurled it into two charging wolves who toppled to the ground in a spray of snow. One, however, recovered in a quick roll and pounced upon Gisbo and dug its teeth into his shoulder. Gisbo felt hot pain explode down his back and, out of instinct, he grabbed the wolf by its jaw with both hands, pried its mouth open and slammed the beast to the ground and repeatedly hopped atop the wolf’s head with his heavy boots until it lay still.
Gisbo felt lightheaded as he saw his whole shirt now drenched with blood from his torn shoulder. It was then he noticed Fao on her back, writhing, as two large wolves snapped at her. Gisbo ran and threw his whole body hard into one of them, toppling them both like dominos, and freeing his Boon. Gisbo then heard a snarl behind him and he spun around just in time to see another wolf flying in his direction. Before he could react, Fao dove over his head, slamming herself into the beast in midair, and they both fell into the snow, a storm of slashing teeth and claws.
Breathing hard, Gisbo tried to rise to his feet, but it was no use. Two wolves intercepted his efforts and plunged him back down into the
snow, trying for his throat. Gisbo pushed his head backward, deep into the rigid snow, trying to keep his distance as he managed to kick one of the wolves hard below the jaw as he held the other wolf at bay with both arms.
The wolf who got kicked quickly rebounded upon him and bit into his forearm. Gisbo screamed in pain as he felt the teeth pierce his skin and grind against the bone. No matter how much Gisbo struggled, the wolf would not release its grip as it shook its head back and forth, rending his arm further. Gisbo felt hot tears touch the corner of his eyes as he fought the pain. If he let go, the current wolf he was holding would certainly charge downward and rip out his throat. He was trapped and suddenly felt immensely woozy. He saw red and then everything went black.
Chapter Nine: Opening Day
When Gisbo awoke, it was nightfall. He looked up from his comfortable new V-bed and saw the stars through the skylight, along with a glowing full moon. It took Gisbo a few moments to realize where he was and he was trying to remember what had happened when a young white wolf hopped from the bed next to him and began lapping his dirty face in excitement.
Gisbo rubbed at the back of his Boon’s neck and suddenly smelled the tantalizing scent of grilling meat just outside. Gisbo quickly grabbed Fao in his arms, jumped from the bed, and ran to the porch. There he found Rolce sitting in a rocker with Harpie and talking to Falcon, who was hunched over the grill stirring something that smelled glorious, while smoke filtered off into the night air.
“Of all things, it's the smell of food that wakes him,” Falcon said with a grin, as he flipped over what looked like a few steaks, flames rising with each turn as the grease and juices ignited.
“How long was I out for? What happened?” Gisbo asked, rubbing his eyes.
“I’d like to ask you that last question.” Rolce said. Gisbo gave him a curious look and then held Fao out in front of him. Fao stared at him a moment and then lapped at his face once more. Laughing, Gisbo took a seat.
“So we finally got both our Boons! But, jeesh, I must have got hit on the head or something. I don’t remember a damn thing. What happened?” Gisbo asked.
“Well, I got Falcon and we both made it back to you. When we got there you were collapsed with Fao, surrounded by dead wolves, and not a scratch on you!” Rolce said. Gisbo’s eyes went wide and he desperately tried to remember what happened. He remembered the wolves now, he remembered they were fighting and then . . .
A quick burst of fire lit eyes flashed across his mind. Gisbo shuddered and then it was forgotten as white space replaced it.
“I . . . I don’t really know what happened, to be honest . . . everything’s a blank to me,” Gisbo said in a distant voice, trying to piece together the images that flashed through his head. Rolce frowned.
“So you don’t remember how you and a pup defeated a pack of savage wolves without a scratch? Did you ask them politely to leave you alone and kindly drop dead all around you? I’m slightly offended you think me so stupid,” Rolce said, crossing his arms. Harpie seemed to give Gisbo a nasty look too.
“I remember fighting the wolves with Fao here. We were doing all right, then things started to turn in their favor. I remembered seeing Fao, hurting, as two wolves were snapping at her . . . then everything went black, then it was red . . . I really don’t know what to tell you, ugh, everything is a literal blank in here. Don’t worry, Rolce, you’ll get used to it hanging around me. I’m lucky if I remember to put on my pants in the morning,” Gisbo said. Falcon only looked over his shoulder with a curious glance and then kept on cooking.
“Hmph,” Rolce said, folding his arms and squinting at him.
“Don’t look at me like that! I really don’t remember anything and AND YOU!” Gisbo said, ponting at Falcon. Falcon turned and placed a hand over his chest.
“Me?” Falcon asked serenly.
“Yeah you! Seriously! If you weren’t making that food right now, I’d wallop you! Do you even realize what me and Rolce had to go through to get these Boons?!” Gisbo blurted out as he held Fao up. Fao just yawned and began panting.
“Yup,” Falcon said as he turned back to his cooking.
“Yup? That’s all you can say? We nearly died!” Gisbo protested, raising his voice.
“Correction, YOU nearly died,” Falcon said as he shook an accusatory grilling fork at him. “That was . . . unexpected . . .” he added and, with a shrug, he went back to cooking.
“Unexpected? You sound as if you knew what was going to happen,” Rolce stated, as he stroked Harpie’s head slowly and the little bird cooed.
“That is not entirely false. However, it is not beneficial knowledge for you as of yet. There are more pressing matters ahead for conversation, so let's do it over dinner, shall we?” Falcon said, as he slapped various meats and grilled vegetables onto three plates, passing them out to Gisbo and Rolce, keeping one for himself.
“Oh yeah? Well, what was all that talk before then about not holding anything back from us?!” Gisbo asked. Falcon looked a bit pained as they began walking inside and setting their table for dinner.
“Boys, it’s not that I don’t WANT to tell you, it’s just that it is top secret, Renegade classified. That's the honest truth.” Gisbo and Rolce looked quite disappointed, but also intrigued. Things brightened quickly enough with their first bites of food. It tasted even better then their previous meal, if that could be possible.
“Falcon! This tastes amazing! What do you do differently than the Renegade chefs?” Rolce wondered with a mouthful of food. Falcon smiled at his compliment.
“Well, it’s not that I don’t WANT to tell you, it’s just that it is Falcon Vadid classified. Those chefs have been trying to pry my marinade recipe from me for years. Maybe one day I’ll pass it on to someone, when the time is right,” Falcon said with another amused grin. Gisbo and Rolce weren’t disappointed as they continued to scarf down the delicious meats and vegetables before them.
“Now then, down to business. Your official first day as Renegas begins on the morrow. The training will prove . . . adequate. The term is split up to focus on one notch of study at a time rather then having all three to deal with at once. Each of these courses, upon completion, will earn you your initial bands and should you finish notch three, you will graduate to Renegara status. From there, you will begin your training with your Class Masters after a short break for summer. Now Gisbo, if you would please stand up,” Falcon requested.
“Why?” Gisbo asked.
“Just stand your ass up,” Falcon muttered. Gisbo did. Falcon pointed his ring finger forward and, with a glow, a red beam of fire stretched forth, hitting Gisbo’s leather belt. It stayed concentrated for a moment and the smell of burning leather hit his nostrils and then it was done. Gisbo looked down at his belt and saw the symbol of a fork burned there, pulsating with a red glow every few seconds.
“If you recall seeing all those relics and plaquards throughout the hallway we walked down earlier today, then you should know those are the titles one can win for oneself, forever engraving one's name in Renegade history. Quite the honor, the silver fork already has your name engraved upon the plaque and now you display the fork on your belt for all to see. If you notice, it will pulsate with a red glow from time to time, showing all that you are the current eating champion. Should you lose your title, the engraving will remain, but it will cease to pulsate. I doubt anybody will challenge you anytime soon, what with your display of fortitude today,” Falcon added with an air of pride. Gisbo beamed.
“You will meet in the Courtyard of Strength on the morrow at exactly six in the morning. Don’t be late, the instructor is in quite the foul mood that early in the morning and you shouldn’t try their patience,” Falcon stated.
“That early? Every day?!” Gisbo moaned.
“Not every day, five days a week. You get the weekends off at least, which comes down to our next state of affairs . . . tarries,” Falcon stated with a smile.
“Money?” Rolce and Gisbo said, almost in unison.
<
br /> “Yes, money. You have been given about one hundred tarries apiece in your bank accounts. That should be enough to last you until you find yourselves a means of work. You are able young men and the time for handouts was over when those one hundred tarries were deposited. If you wish to buy food for yourselves, books, supplies, etc. you will need to find a means of work throughout Heaven’s Shelter to support yourselves. I suggest you two look as soon as possible after your course tomorrow, before the good jobs are taken. I believe that’s it for now, so pleasant night to you, boys! I’ll be seeing you!” Falcon said as he unsheathed his sword and made his way to the end of the deck. With a quick leap, Falcon activated his essence and was skeeting away into the night sky, leaving a fiery red tail behind him.
“Man, I can’t wait for the day I can do that!” Gisbo said, watching the red trail glimmer in the night sky before dissipating.
“He could have at least helped us clean up,” Rolce complained, as he began picking up the plates. Gisbo and Rolce then took turns jumping into the cleansing room and were off to their beds. Fao slept at the base of the ladder of Gisbo’s bed and Harpie perched on the bed post of Rolce’s.
“I better not find any surprises behind my bed in the morning. You and Fao can take your business outside! You understand?” Rolce said, laying down the law. Harpie puffed out her feathers in retort. “So you really don’t remember what happened, Gisbo? The place was an absolute mess. There was even a shattered oak tree and, when I say shattered, I’m not at all exaggerating.” Rolce said, turning to Gisbo, who only sighed.
“If I knew what had happened, I’d tell you, Rolce. It’s bothering me too. I felt death’s grip on me and then I wake up here in my bed, safe and sound,” Gisbo stated.