by J. C. Fiske
“These rings are NOT coming off, so it is now up to you to keep your bodies in shape to allow the essence to flow peacefully through you and adapt. Think of these rings as little personal Roaries to encourage you every day!” Roarie said in her usual sickening sweetness. They all nodded in silence as Gisbo muttered something under his breath.
“Well, after that, I suppose you lot deserve some good news though, so here it is. You have now completed the first stage of my class,” Roarie announced, with a very proud grin on her face.
“Your next instructor will focus on the philosophies that accompany the Elekai' powers and from there your third instructor will teach you to combine all you have learned into unleashing your essence through weapons. You will not use your powers until this third notch of your training. Don’t even try it! Your bodies being out of shape is the least of your worries. You don't want to know what happens if you ignite your essence when it is not properly distributed! I can assure you, human bombs do exist.” Roarie let her last sentence sit for a bit, enjoying the looks on their faces.
“Alrighty then! Now, if you please, break off into groups according to your race and let's pass out the rings. Orderly fashion now, Flarians to my left, Soarians to my right, Naforians and Aquarians make up the outsides. Come on, come on, don’t stand there looking stupid, Grandfield. You’re a Flarian, over here,” Roarie ordered pointing to her right as the boys and girls began separating.
Gisbo made his way to the Flarian group with Grandfield, along with two girls and one other boy. During training he had only really befriended Shaved and Grandfield. Now he was pleased to have a chance to meet a few other Flarians like himself. Instinctively, he thrust out his hand to the boy Flarian.
“Good to see another Flarian like myself. I’m Gisbo, Gisbo Falcon,” said Gisbo with a cheery air that surprised even himself.
The boy stared at his hand. He was dressed in Shininja attire and had long, straightened, amber colored hair swooped down to his chin. A typical Shininja mask covered the lower portion of his face, but his eyes were distant and dark. He was about the same height as Gisbo, but leaner. The boy did not extend his hand to meet Gisbo’s. Instead, he glared at it with a hint of disgust, followed by a small chuckle.
“Did I miss something funny?” Gisbo asked the boy sternly. The Flarian boy turned his head in indifference and ran a hand back through his silk like hair.
“What else are fools good for if not laughter? Save it. I have no intention of befriending the likes of you, nor anyone here,” the boy said as he turned his back on Gisbo with his arms crossed, suddenly finding the sky quite fascinating.
Gisbo went wide-eyed and Grandfield put a hand on Gisbo’s shoulder to prevent him from doing anything rash when one of the girls beside him did it for him.
“Excuse me, but who the hell do you think you are?” demanded the girl, stepping in front of Gisbo. She was short, nearly shorter than Roarie. She was dressed in Berserker attire, had dirty blonde hair tied back in a long braid and had a tone of voice as quick and sharp as razor blade. Gisbo couldn’t help it. Instant admiration washed over him as the little girl ripped into the red-headed boy with a viscous verbal assault.
“Listen up, Rake! We left where we were so we Flarians wouldn’t have to deal with stupid jerks like you! Show some gratitude for where you are. The guy was only trying to be friendly, jerkwad,” the girl snarled. A wicked grin stretched across Gisbo's face. He couldn’t have done any better if he tried. The red-headed boy turned around to face her.
“Please, tell me. Why is it that the ones so short of stature always pack the biggest mouths?” Rake wondered aloud. Gisbo was about to hit him until the short girl beat him to the punch, literally. Like a little wolverine, the girl jumped him in a storm of scratches, bites and rabid punches as if it were the fight of her life.
Gisbo didn’t even bother to break up the scuffle. He stood with his mouth agape in a smile and watched with glee as others rushed in to separate the two. When they were pulled apart, Roarie, well, roared at the both of them.
“That is enough! Rake and Kinny, you both give the Flarian race a bad name! Punishments for the two of you after this class session is through. Flarians especially need to mind their tempers! You must demonstrate control or you will never become Renegaras! That goes for you three as well, you understand me?” Roarie shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Gisbo, Grandfield and the other Flarian girl.
“Yeah! I understand that this guy Rake is a complete butthole!” Gisbo railed, pointing at the red-haired boy. Roarie reared on him, shoving her face in his, doing a little jump to do so.
“Are you saying you would you like to join your two friends in punishments this afternoon? I dare you to go further, pup! Try me! Just try me!” Roarie challenged, her words dripping with venom. Gisbo flinched a little, but then smiled.
“Hmm . . .” Gisbo said in mock wonder as he shot a look at Rake, then back at Roarie. Rolce eyeballed him, shaking his head slowly as if saying, Don’t do it, stupid…
“After careful consideration…” Gisbo trailed off as he reared back mid-sentence with lightning speed and collided his fist with Rake’s face. It was a cheap trick. Rake didn’t even see it coming and fell backward with a yelp as the other Renegaras caught him. Kinny smiled at Gisbo with silent respect. Roarie looked at the fallen Rake clutching his nose and back at Gisbo, her face of utter shock.
“You . . . you surpass your Class Master’s stupidity by a thousand leaps! You will pay for your disobedience by serving your punishment with Renegade Purah himself Right. This. Instant! Fighting is one thing, direct disobedience to your instructor is another matter. Now take your ring!” Roarie said as she grabbed Gisbo’s hand, thrust a ring on it and gave a kick to his backside, shuffling him forward. “Gamba, escort this idiot to Purah and explain the situation fully. Go! ”
“Your hair color goes well with a bloody nose, jerk,” Gisbo said to Rake as the boy wiped away the blood, snarling.
“GO!” Roarie yelled again, pointing in the direction of the tower as she laid a swift backhand to Gisbo’s head.
“OUCH! I’m goin'! I’m goin'! JEESH! Crazy old hag . . .” Gisbo said, rubbing his head and muttering more inaudible things under his breath.
As Gisbo walked with Gamba, he realized that he hadn’t hit a person like that in quite some time. He told himself whatever the punishment was, it was well worth it. He strutted along beside Gamba, who wore Nazarite attire. The boy was a Renegara and the same one who helped erect the running hills, or molehills, as Roarie liked to call them, on their first day. He had whitish blond hair tied tight in a ponytail and had bright green eyes.
“Don’t worry, I saw how the whole thing went down. I would have hit the little snot too,” Gamba said with a wink. Gisbo looked a bit taken aback.
“I’ll explain everything to Purah. He’s quite the reasonable guy, ya know. He’s head of the Renegade instructors. He practically planned out the entire Renegade training regime and curriculum all on his own. Very smart guy and unbelievably powerful! I’ve yet to see anybody best his Berserker skills in a duel and hey! Don’t look at me like I’m trying to get on your good side. Not all of us Renegara’s are arrogant jerks. Most of us are though, unfortunately,” Gamba said with a bemused smile. Gisbo returned his grin with a laugh.
“Well, thanks a lot! I just wasn’t sure. You guys seem to all have it out for us. I just don’t get some people. There was no reason for that. A guy tries to be nice for a change and look where it gets him,” Gisbo said as they neared the common grounds.
“ Neither do I, my friend, but Roarie’s right though; you gotta control that temper of yours. There was a reason why everybody feared the Flarian race. You lot can prove quite destructive when not in control of yourselves. Just a heads up,” Gamba said.
“So everyone keeps reminding me. So why is it, if you don’t mind me saying, that all you Renegaras are such buttholes?” Gisbo aked bluntly. Gamba actually laughed out loud before answerin
g.
“You know what, pal, I like you. You just slap the cards right down as you see ‘em. We need more people like you, but yeah, I can’t deny your question. It’s scary to think that after this term's up we're all going to be Renegades. If you ask me, I think it's mainly being inside this sheltered bubble of ours. The Renegades are quite advanced philosophically, physically and technologically. Most of the Renegaras haven’t been to the outside world and have sort of adopted an air of superiority. They're told they are great, so they accept themselves as great. If you didn’t know, very few of the Renegaras were sent out at birth. It was an ancient Renegade tradition to send kids away. The decision was left to the class master alone and a lot of them chose not to send them away. Most of my group were born and raised right here in Heaven’s Shelter,” Gamba answered.
“Really? So this whole system is new?” Gisbo asked.
“No, ancient. Weren’t you listening? It was just recently brought back, but as to why, it’s a mystery, but I think that maybe it was because the elders started seeing a lot of the new generation's attitudes and they didn’t approve, so maybe they decided to start sending a lot more of them away to learn humbleness and broaden their views on life, like me. That boy Rake has lived in the bubble, raised here by his parents his whole life, I know that much. Now don’t get me wrong, it's only a theory of mine and there are plenty of good-natured Renegaras out there who were raised right here in Heaven’s Shelter too. I’m friends with most of them. I guess it all depends on the person,” Gamba said with a hint of hopefulness in his voice.
This was news to Gisbo, but it did indeed make sense. Those Renegaras had no idea how lucky they were to live their whole lives in such a great place as Heaven’s Shelter. If only they could spend a day in his shoes back at Oak County, maybe they’d be a little more thankful. Perhaps Falcon was right in sending him away, which raised a new question within his mind, a question he mentally slapped himself for not piecing together.
“Gamba, when we were sent away, it was by our class masters right? I mean, they had the final say on what happened right?” Gisbo asked.
“That’s correct. Where are you going with this?” Gamba asked.
“Well, why is it out of most of the people I have met their class masters are their fathers or mothers? Everybody keeps telling me how much alike I am to Falcon. Do you know if, well, do you know if he’s my . . . father? I mean, do I have a family here? You’d know! You’ve been here longer than I have!” Gisbo said with excitement at the thought.
“Yeah but not THAT much longer, pal. I know of Falcon, great guy from what I hear. Sorry, can’t help you there,” Gamba said aloud before turning back to a disappointed Gisbo. “Ah, don’t fret though. I’m sure if you asked, he’d tell you.”
“Do you know how awkward of a question that would be?” Gisbo asked.
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t fret. Just remember though that not all of the Renegas were born from Renegade parents. They have to be deemed worthy and many of them come from common birth, usually as orphans. Our Sybil foresaw their essential potential. Don’t mind the rhyme. Whoops, did it again!” Gamba said with a laugh. Gisbo's head sunk a bit more.
“Hey, don’t be discouraged now, I was one of those orphans, ya know. That was my lead in to bring it up. I don’t have the slightest clue who my parents are or, should I say, were. But I have a feeling if you’d ask Falcon, he would tell you the truth. That is, if you can gather up enough courage to ask him something like that,” Gamba said, leaving Gisbo’s thoughts racing, something he wasn’t at all used to.
“Yah. I’ve never really thought about who my parents were. Never really wanted to, until I arrived here that is, away from all those bastards from Oak County,” Gisbo said, as recollections of Thomson rose and overtook the thoughts of Rake in the front of his mind.
“No kiddin'! You’re from Oak County? So was I! Ain’t that something. Wait now, that was you? The kid who lived in the shack? Jeesh! Not everybody is named after a dog, seriously, why didn’t I put it together before? Good to see not all rumors are true. Parents I knew made you out to be the boogeyman. If only I knew better. Well, I didn’t even know myself I was a Renegade back then. I feel so terrible now,” Gamba said. Gisbo could tell the boy was sincere, so Gamba's pity didn’t bother him at all. It seemed as if his reputation had driven away all the worthwhile people and attracted all the good-for-nothings like Thomson.
“Don’t even worry about it. It’s not your fault. Not like I gave anybody a fair shot either. I didn’t exactly put out a welcome mat. I hated everybody to be perfectly honest, thought everyone was the same ‘til I met my buddy Rolce and then Grandfield and Shaved and, man,” Gisbo paused and found himelf smiling. “I am just so thankful to be here now, everyone here is so great! It's only natural you get the occasional butthole like Ranto and Rake in the mix, keeps things interesting I guess,” Gisbo said, actually able to smile now.
Before they knew it, the boys arrived at their destination. Gisbo recognized it immediately. They were standing at the doorway to the large tower set behind the statue of Vadid. The top of the tower glowed with the same fierce blue it had displayed earlier, but now Gisbo noticed hints of translucent white and a lighter blue mixed throughout. Gisbo found it absolutely beautiful to look upon as it emanated raw energy. There was something definitely vast pulsating in there, but at the same time it felt comforting, as if it existed for protection of some sort.
“Hey, Gamba, what's up there?” Gisbo asked. Gamba looked skyward to admire the beautiful glow before shrugging his shoulders.
“Dunno. You will find that, as much as the Renegades are up front with you, they do have their secrets. I absolutely have no idea. People have hunches that it is a new power source they have been working on that can power anything, maybe this whole entire place, but that is just a rumor. Best I can give ya, unfortunately,” Gamba said as they walked through the large doorway that slid open for them in a yellow glow.
Gisbo and Gamba stepped inside as the doors slid shut behind them.
“Renegade Purah’s domain,” Gamba announced. The whole room flashed a variety of colors and, with a lurch, the room felt like it was rising. Then suddenly it lurched right, then left, before zooming upward once more at an incredible rate of speed. Gamba smiled at Gisbo’s surprise as the room stopped dead and the doors opened. Before them was a hallway with night black walls and a single white door at the end, glowing brightly in the surrounding blackness.
“Follow me,” Gamba said. Gisbo trailed behind him down the hallway and the doors of the moving room closed behind with another flash of yellow. As they made their way closer to the white door, Gisbo heard a rather heated conversation coming from behind it. Gamba looked at Gisbo and put up a finger for silence as they moved closer to the door.
“I’ll have my proof. Don’t even think you’ll be able to just sweep this under the rug and walk away…” said a calm, wise voice.
“Hah! Proof? I’d love to see it, Purah. I told you once before: don’t throw your attention where it doesn’t belong. Isn’t that the kind of advice you would give your beloved students? I would hate for anything more to happen to them, what with such a loss already this year,” said a shrill tone, as sharp as jagged glass.
“Tomorrow, Lokin. Upon Chieftain Narroway’s return, all will come together. The return seems to be indeed coming ever nearer and Narroway is putting aside his pride to try to warn his incompetent brother Karm of the danger. When our Chieftain returns, justice will be swift, Lokin. I swear it by all I am,” Purah said, not once losing his calm tone of voice.
“A pre-school teacher giving threats? Let tomorrow come, Purah. I’d love to see if these threats have backing. In parting, just know, my old friend, you aren’t the only one biding your time,” Lokin said. Gisbo could have sworn he was smiling with this final statement. They heard footsteps approaching the door. The two boys quickly backed away from it as Gamba raised his fist in the air, pretending he was just about to knock as
the door swung open.
Standing before them was a man clad in Shininja attire. Crimson red bangs flowed over his headband like two exotic snakes and at the back flowed a tight ponytail. Lokin's grey eyes looked down upon Gamba and Gisbo for a moment before he rushed through them and down the hallway.
“Oh, hello there, Gamba. Roarie decided to send another my way, has she? Well, go on, bring him in so we can discuss the matter,” Purah said in an upbeat, friendly tone. Gisbo and Gamba entered Purah’s large room, adorned with finger-paintings from his many preschool admirers.
“Looks like your collection’s doubled since the last I’ve been here, Purah. The kids really do love you,” Gamba commented, gazing at the cute illustrations of various pictures of Purah with messy sayings like, “My favorite teacher!” and “My Hero!” The pictures of Purah were actually quite accurate to the real Purah seated at the large wooden desk.
Purah was dressed in Berserker attire and Gisbo could tell he was a tall man just by the way he sat, as if his legs didn’t have enough room under the desk. At first glance he would have thought the Renegade instructor to be in his mid thirties if it weren’t for the speckles of grey throughout his dark brown hair. His face was smooth with a pronounced, proud chin and rigid jaw which only added to his already handsome face. His eyes were a soft blue that gave off an air of utter humbleness and wisdom.
“Ah yes, may IAM bless those little tikes. If I could teach one class for the rest of my days, it would be finger painting with those kids. Innocence is such a precious thing. It really warms my heart just seeing them go about their carefree days. Keeps an old bugger like me young! But anyhow, what can I do for you boys?” Purah asked. Gamba went about explaining the whole situation to Purah, who kept looking in Gisbo’s direction, grinning with amusement.