by J. C. Fiske
“You remember then? You know your purpose?” Falcon asked. Gisbo nodded.
“Yeah, I have to open the Reath,” Gisbo said.
“No! You can’t! You will be giving Drakearon the keys to return to Thera!” Moordin argued.
“That’s what I said! But how the hell am I supposed to say no to a giant blue bird?” Gisbo answered.
“Moordin, we must have faith. Gisbo, do what IAM wills you,” Narroway instructed. Gisbo nodded as he walked forward holding his sword. His essence felt different when his weapon unexpectedly erupted into blue flames, matching his uniform. Everyone gazed upon him with awe as their cuts and bruises healed themselves over completely. Gisbo felt a surge like adrenaline as the swelling where his body was bashed and bruised deflated and the gash across his jaw from Malik healed into a neat scar. Gisbo reared back and slashed his blade forward, not really knowing why, only that it felt right.
The air itself seemed to cleave from his cut as a window to another world parted the air like a torn cloth. Gisbo and his company saw the Reath for the very first time. To Gisbo, it looked how he would imagine hell if he truly thought about it. There was nothing but a barren wasteland of sand covered by a sky as red as blood with dark, thunderous clouds overhead. Gisbo cocked his head as if listening to a voice, nodded, then turned to face Purah.
“Go back to your master, you stupid dog!” Gisbo said with a snarl.
“How ironic of you. Just as I said, the portal is open to me tonight. Very well, it seems I cannot hide my Sybil blood anymore. Drakearon was correct in his theory that a Sybil is capable of suppressing the cravings of the dragon’s power. It seems, my dear Falcon, that there are now two who have held onto their humanity with such power flowing through them. I believe there is something beyond pure willpower that allows you to resist. What it is I can only ponder at, but I can promise you that I will discover your secret. Even so, I release the children. They are of no more importance,” Purah announced and with a wave of his hand, every one of Purah’s mind slaves began to awake. Shax nearly toppled over from the shock of being in control of his body for the first time in seventeen years. Tears swam to his eyes when he saw Rolce from across the room.
“Rolce! Rolce, my boy! My boy!” Shax screamed, taking a few more shaky steps, and both father and son broke into a sprint. They fell into an embrace on their knees and as they hugged each other, tears were streaming freely down their faces.
“Oh Rolce, seventeen years of imprisonment! I . . . I’ve done horrible things . . . your mother . . . oh, your mother, I’m so sorry!” Shax wept, but Rolce interrupted.
“Never mind that, Dad, you're back! You're back and that’s all that matters now!” Rolce insisted with the first genuine smile Gisbo had seen in a long time. Gisbo turned his gaze upon Purah and Lokin.
“Well? The hell you waiting for? Get your pansy ass out of here!” Gisbo yelled. Purah snickered.
“You truly believe these lies, boy? This self delusion? You call it faith, Narroway? I see blind allegiance. This…part to play? I hear the voices too, both sides. IAM is not all-powerful and we proved it yet again tonight. You blindly follow. Open your minds and see the truth! Why would IAM allow Drakearon and his Dragon to live and now return? Why does he allow his people to suffer? Appolyon speaks differently, he promises only love and equality. His powers are equal with IAM and the power I used to decimate your little band was nothing but a fraction of what Appolyon has granted Drakearon. You cannot hope to stand on equal footing, silly boy-phoenix. And Falcon, my old friend, you cannot deny the power of the Drakeness that flows through you. You will use it again and when you do, Drakearon will own, once again, his greatest of warriors,” Purah predicted. Falcon shook his head.
“Purah, my old friend, what you have done here is unimaginable. You escape for a little while, friend, but mark my words and mark them well . . . retribution will come, but you need not look for it over your shoulder. I, Falcon Vadid, will come for you, if only to see a sword impaled through you once more,” Falcon said.
“I don’t know what would excite me more, my dear Falcon. Seeing you obedient to Drakearon once more or awaiting the day you speak of. Time will tell of course. As for the rest of you, continue to revel in your foolishness and ignorance . . . a Renegade’s downfall. Drakearon loathes both. A closed mind is useless,” Purah exclaimed.
“Pride and lack of imagination . . . your downfall. The mind need only be closed to wickedness and evil. Should one not recognize it for what it is, that makes them a fool,” Moordin said aloud.
“No matter. Till we meet again. Oh, and boy-phoenix . . . Deity Drakearon tells me he looks forward to an engagement with you,” Purah said.
“Well, you tell that sick bastard I ain’t interested in marriage proposals and when I see him, I’m gonna . . .” Gisbo screamed as he marched towards Purah. Falcon stepped in.
“Whoa, whoa, take it easy tiger.” Falcon said with a wink as he stood beside his son, lancing one final glare at Purah and Lokin.
“Careful, boy-phoenix. As the Renegades say, pride before the fall . . .” Purah said with a final cryptic smile.
“Be seeing you boys!” Lokin said with a haphazard salute.
And with that, both Purah and Lokin passed into the Reath. A flash of light and pulse of energy engulfed them and within an instant, both men and the Reath were gone without a trace.
Gisbo slumped to the ground, nearly blacking out from sheer exhaustion as the flames on his sword returned to normal, Flarian red flames. Oddly enough, as the red essence returned, the handle in his sword cracked, causing the red orb to tumble out. Gisbo’s eyes expanded in awe when his essence didn’t dissipate. For the first time, he was using Elekai' correctly.
“So, how does it feel to know you aren’t going to explode after all?” Narroway said, taking a seat on the floor next to Gisbo.
“I . . . this is all just so . . .” Gisbo muttered, unable to really think of a response.
“Don’t worry, son, you’ve done your part well tonight, although I can guarantee you are confused beyond belief,” Narroway said. Gisbo just nodded as he watched the boys around him begin walking around, dazed and confused.
“Before I explain anything else, I think we need to return these children back to their families, get a warm meal in their stomachs AND throw the biggest celebration Heaven’s Shelter has ever seen!” Narroway said as he patted Gisbo’s back and rose to get the kids in order. Turning his attention to them, Gisbo saw Jackobi sit up, rubbing his chin as he made eye contact with Gisbo sitting across from him.
“So, um,” Gisbo stammered.
“Yeah,” Jackobi muttered as Rolce came and stood over them both.
“Well, might as well start with introductions, eh? My name’s Rolce Moordin,” Rolce said as he stuck a hand out to Jackobi.
“And this guy right here is Gisbo Falcon!” Gisbo said as he outstretched a hand too. Jackobi shook both hands with a grin.
“You know my name; I loathe repeating myself. It’s good…to finally meet you. Both of you,” Jackobi said with a smile as the boys helped him rise to his shaky feet.
“Ok, before anything else, I have a serious question I need to ask you,” Gisbo said.
“Yeah?” Jackobi asked, cocking a curious glance toward him.
“You like sushi?” Gisbo asked. At this, Jackobi’s face lit up.
“You kiddin'? I love the stuff!” Jackobi said.
“Jackobi my friend, on that assurance, I think it's safe to give you the extra bunk in our dorm. Welcome to the best synergy in Heaven’s Shelter!” Gisbo smiled as he pumped his hand once more. The complete synergy all laughed together for the first time.
Gisbo turned to see Falcon leaning against a large stalagmite, arms folded and smiling at their little group. Gisbo left them and walked over to his class master…his father.
“So, what, do I call you 'Dad' or something now?” Gisbo asked. Falcon merely shrugged.
“Long as I can call you meathead,
” he said with a smile.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Gisbo asked.
“Why didn’t you ever ask?” Falcon countered. Gisbo just shrugged.
“I tried . . . HEY! Don’t turn this around on me! You’re supposed to be the responsible adult!” Gisbo said, pointing at Falcon.
“Do I look like a responsible adult to you?” Falcon said as he stepped forward and placed both hands on his son's shoulders.
“Gisbo, I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but really couldn’t find a way to do it. With a past like mine, I hope you understand. What Purah told you was indeed true, I was an agent of Drakearon and do have the evil flowing through me.” Falcon slowly removed his bandana, revealing the same grotesque symbol that appeared on Rolce’s forehead. It started to drip before Falcon wiped it away and tied the bandana back on.
“It has now been over twenty years since I have last released the Drakeness, yet the craving is always there. I am reminded every time I hurt myself, as it heals my wounds for me on its own. The amount of willpower needed to resist during such times is extraordinary,” Falcon said.
“So there is no healing technique for Flarians? That time you got your hand nearly melted off by Ricard, the Drakeness healed you?” Gisbo asked.
“I thought when we discussed it that you came out of there unscathed, Falcon…” Foxblade chimed in behind him.
“Technically I did.” Falcon said, rubbing the back of his head and smiling nervously.
“I see. Secrets, secrets, secrets . . .” Foxblade mumbled.
“But yeah, only a lucky few know of healing abilities, Gisbo. As for the Drakeness, I was one of the rare lucky ones to break my addiction and get it under control. Others weren’t so lucky, I’m afraid. Those who get fully consumed by the addiction and surrender themselves to it become monsters. The creatures that you saw as you spiraled through the portal are what is left of Drakearon's most worthy of followers, the ones who provide him power. The more people Drakearon enslaves, the more power he generates and the more power his followers receive in return. I’m sure you can see the danger of something like this spreading. As of now, I am one of the only known people to overcome the addiction. It is a fight every day for me, but as long as I have my will and my friends around me, I will never give in. You know what helped me overcome it the most?” Falcon said. Gisbo shook his head. Falcon smiled before answering.
“It was you, Gisbo. When you were born, I wanted to be the best role model possible. Just seeing your face and thinking of you dulled the cravings and gave me a happiness like no other, a sense of purpose. You became my passion. I want to continue to be that example for you, Gisbo. I may have my shortcomings, but as I said before, I will pour all that I am into you to make you the best warrior and the best man you can be. I love you, son,” Falcon said in a low voice. By now, both father and son had tears in their eyes as they embraced. Clapping erupted all around them as those closest looked on, watery eyed too.
“Hey! Would you guys quit it!” Gisbo yelled.
“This isn’t for your entertainment!” Falcon chimed in.
“It’s best to appreciate moments like these in life, my dear friend Falcon. As one who has lost seventeen years of his own, it’s safe to say I know what I’m talking about. Please say you still have that secret recipe marinade of yours, old friend. Please say it's true! If you could marinate the entire cow, it couldn’t satisfy my appetite!” Shax exclaimed as he put an arm around his son. Falcon nodded.
“For you, Shax, anything. We had assumed the worst about you for so long; good to see the saying about assuming stands true, even after all these years. Welcome home!” Falcon said with a smile.
“Wait, do you mean to say it was your bright idea to name me after a dog? Huh? Not only that, but the Flarian name for dog? That’s heaping insult upon injury! Gisbo? Really? Fido would have been easier! What the hell!” Gisbo accused.
“Huh, you think just because I’m your dad I named you Gisbo?” Falcon said with a gleam in his eye.
“Wait, wait one second! Do you mean, I have a . . . mom?” Gisbo asked.
“Of course you had a mom. Do I need to explain where babies come from?” Falcon teased.
“NO! Of course not! Where is she? Is she, um,” Gisbo asked, only to be cut off by Falcon.
“That’s a story for another day,” Falcon said in a quiet tone.
“Well! I don’t know about the lot of you, but I believe Heaven’s Shelter would be an ideal place to catch up on things rather than doing it here! Let us all leave this place and return home!” Narroway said with gusto.
Everyone agreed and they began their trek out of the cave. To their surprise, the cave’s entrance was crowded by armed men clad in green uniforms. At the forefront stood a man of huge stature, with battle scars crisscrossing his proud, bearded face and brandishing a dark green eye patch. On his green uniform were two long ribbons that stretched down each of his shoulder pads, longer than all the other Strifes.
“Narroway . . .” Chieftain Lamik said.
“Lamik . . .” Narroway answered, with a hint of disgust in his voice.
“I trust you dealt with the traitorous bunch without mercy?” Lamik said. Narroway shook his head.
“They are gone for now, suffice it to say, and everyone is unharmed. That should be enough,” Narroway said.
“As soft as always. Evil deserves death or suffering or it will continue to thrive,” Lamik said.
“Don’t speak to me of your twisted justice, Lamik, I know full well of your Glaknabrade prison. This is Renegade business; just be thankful your son is safe and was never in any real danger,” Narroway said, eyes full of cool fury.
“To me, Malik,” Lamik ordered. Upon command, the boy that Gisbo had pummeled earlier and had been equally pummeled by made his way through the group to stand beside his father. Lamik lifted a hand to the boy's chin, cocking Malik’s head upward to examine the massive cut stretching from his eye to his nose.
“A worthy wound. Wear this scar with pride and know one day you will take revenge on the one that gave it to you. A Strife forever!” Lamik said.
Gisbo placed a hand over the side of his face, fingering the cut that Malik had given him. Lamik figures it was Purah instead of me, doesn’t he? Gisbo thought warily. He wondered if Malik knew the true origin of the scar when suddenly, as if reading his mind, Malik turned and gave him a wicked stare, his eye fluttering in pain from the gash across it.
“I look forward to it. A Strife forever!” Malik declared without taking his eyes off Gisbo. There was something about this boy that made Gisbo's skin crawl even more than Ranto, Thomson or Rake - and that was saying a lot. They were just spoiled rotten when all was said and done, but not this boy - not Malik. There was something dangerous behind those eyes, something familiar . . . whatever it was, Gisbo didn’t like it.
“Yours is bigger . . .” Gisbo said, mouthing the words so as not to be heard, and making a diagonal cutting motion across his own eye with a finger. Gisbo was used to Thomson's reaction of rage at such disrespect, or Ranto shrugging him off as worthless in a haughty huff, but what Malik did surprised him.
He smiled, deliberately. There was something maniacal behind it.
Who is this kid? Gisbo wondered as he returned the smile with one of his own. It was then Gisbo felt it: the strange sense of destiny overtaking him. He couldn’t explain how he knew, only how he felt, and Gisbo realized exactly what he saw in the boy’s face. The eyes, and teeth, of a lone wolf…
Chapter Twenty Four: A Million Dreams Ahead
Gisbo rolled out of bed the next morning in his usual fashion, slamming hard against the wooden floor. As Fao licked his ears to see if he was all right, the scenes from the night before flashed before his eyes. Rising to his feet, Gisbo began wondering if all of it had really happened, for both Rolce and Jackobi’s bunks were empty save for a furry creature snoozing upon the Shininja’s bunk.
“What the? What’s a fox doing in here? Fao, get
him!” Gisbo yelled in dismay.
“He’s of no threat to you. Meet Chara, my Boon; just showed up here this morning,” Jackobi said. Gisbo turned his head and saw Rolce and Jackobi enjoying two cups of steaming hot tea. Just the sight of Jackobi at the table made Gisbo smile. He hadn't been dreaming after all.
“He’s your Boon? Geez, Rolce! Wouldn’t it have been great if OUR Boons showed up on our pillow one morning? But noooo, instead our Boons almost get us both killed!” Gisbo complained as he looked at Fao shamefully cowering behind his leg.
“Chara told me he’s been hanging around Foxblade’s for about a year. Foxblade was taking care of him. He ran here this morning when he felt Jackobi’s presence. Pretty cool stuff, huh?” Rolce explained.
“So you guys psyched for the celebration today? Narroway told me we are all gonna get our bands from Perry and become official Renegaras! A few special guests are supposed to come too! Wonder who . . . wait . . .” Gisbo said, realization dawning. “Jackobi…you missed this whole year! How are you gonna become a Renegara?” Gisbo asked.
“Why don’t you explain the situation, Rolce; I hate repeating myself,” Jackobi said as he sipped his tea.
“Well, Gisbo, Jackobi is actually almost a year ahead of us in his training. He’s already a Renegara, he just doesn’t have his bands yet,” Rolce said.
“Really? But how?” Gisbo asked.
“Well, Jackobi was sent away just like we were when we were kids. He was given the special assignment of throwing whoever the traitors were off track, as he had the highest outputs of essence at the time. He's kind of a prodigy, if you will. Foxblade has been back and forth, training him in special shininja techniques secretly for his mission to protect you, the real Man-Phoenix,” Rolce said.
“Trust me, it's been no picnic! The crap I endured for you all these years . . .” Jackobi said, looking in Gisbo’s direction. Gisbo remembered it all now: the monstrous voice, the eyes of fire that spoke to him, the order to make friends.