Renegade Reprisal (The Renegade Series)

by J. C. Fiske

  Gisbo’s jaw dropped as he watched it raise its great body to the sky, like a cobra set to strike, and turned its glowing eyes upon him, paralzying him with fear. The worm opened a circular mouth filled with rows of teeth that seemed to spiral around inside with a whirling noise. It followed up its intimidation with an ear-caving screech that brought Gisbo back to his senses. Suddenly, Falcon was beside him.

  “She’s gonna charge. Get up and dodge when I say so and don’t let its quills touch you. They’re filled with poison,” Falcon said. Gisbo didn’t mutter a reply as he stood to his feet. Just as Falcon predicted, the monster spiraled downward with another screech, its huge mouth agape.

  “Now!” Falcon ordered. Gisbo obeyed, and they both used their essence to propel themselves to each side of the monster. The worm’s giant head hit the ground hard, spraying a blinding white mist everywhere. Gisbo shut his eyes, half expecting not to open them again when, oddly enough, there was silence.

  When the dust had settled, Gisbo slowly opened his eyes. The worm had caused a small crater in the wake of smashing its face into the ground, which was still embededded in the sand.

  “Hah, it killed itself,” Gisbo said aloud.

  “Oh no . . .” Falcon muttered. The worm’s massive body began to change. It swelled like a balloon and looked tight enough to burst.

  “Get behind me!” Falcon ordered. Gisbo grabbed Fao in his arms as he quickly dived behind his class master.

  Falcon planted his feet into the ground and gritted his teeth. Gisbo could feel a massive power resonating around him as sand began to rise into the air. Everything turned red as Falcon engulfed the area around his body into a large fireball.

  A loud, bursting noise erupted from the worm. Hundreds of quills flew out in every direction, several of which came flying right toward Gisbo. Before Gisbo could even raise a hand to shield himself, the spikes disingrated into black ash about two feet from his face.

  Gisbo looked up at Falcon and saw his eyes closed in deep concentration, holding his sword at a ninety degree angle. Several more quills dropped from the sky on top of them, but every single one disingrated into ash before it could reach either of them. The ground beneath them shook once more as the worm freed itself, reared its massive head into the air, and gazed upon them with its horrible eyes. Falcon opened his.

  “Watch closely, my son. Observe the benefits of a little patience and precision,” Falcon calmly stated. Suddenly, Gisbo felt the air around him being sucked into a singular source. The red hue around him dissipated quickly and flowed into Falcon’s blade. Gisbo looked to see his Class Master’s sword glowing brighter then he had ever witnessed it before.

  The creature screeched, opening its huge cirgular mouth. Falcon smiled, outstretched his arm, and pointed his glowing blade directly at the monster’s head. Without warning, a singular beam, about the width of his sword, shot outward and into the back of the creature’s mouth. The monster, surprised, reared back and stood motionless.

  “What the . . .” Gisbo muttered. Falcon raised a hand for silence.

  “Just watch; this battle’s over,” Falcon said as he raised two fingers in the air and snapped them together.

  BOOM!

  The monster’s head exploded in a fiery mist of guts, gray matter, and bone marrow. Its massive body went limp and fell to the side, collapsing to the ground and draping over several cave tops.

  “Whoa . . .” Gisbo said.

  “Rings up,” Falcon said as he pumped his ring to the sky and unleashed a circular shield of energy above his head. A shower of horrible smelling, green body parts poured from the sky upon them. When the shower finished, Falcon looked over at his subordinate, who was covered in the gooey remains of the monster.

  “Oh, that’s right. Haven’t taught you how to use an essence shield yet,” Falcon said. Gisbo stood cross-armed, tapping his foot.

  “Nope . . .” Gisbo started, when suddenly a giant, veiny, red eyeball splashed atop his head. Falcon laughed heartily as he helped removed the gruesome thing from Gisbo’s head.

  “You even got Fao all nasty!” Gisbo accused. Falcon shrugged.

  “Fao seems to be enjoying herself,” Falcon said. Gisbo turned to see Fao rolling around in the dead remains, as dogs tend to do, with relish.

  “FAO! I told you not to do that stuff! Ahhh, man, you’ll never get that smell outta yer fur! No, stop that! Gahhh,” Gisbo yelled as he chased his wolf in a tight circle.

  “Come now, go retrieve your sword and let’s head back to the cave. Time to get you both cleaned up,” Falcon said. “Just keep a good walking distance behind; you stink.”

  The thing Gisbo loved best after a nice workout was taking a dip in the hot pools that lay deep in the cold caves. There were several spaced out around the cave they called home and Gisbo cannonballed right into the biggest one. Just feeling the nastiness wash off him felt great and, with a kick, he returned to the water’s surface to have Fao pratically jump on top of him.

  “You’ll be needing this,” Falcon said as he tossed Gisbo a bar of soap. “And make sure you boil that water when you’re done; get rid of all that mess floating around.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Gisbo said as he dunked his head under and began scrubbing away the rest of the green decay off himself and his wolf. Falcon relaxed into the smaller pool next to him with a relaxed sigh.

  “So, any reason you wanted to camp out in a different cave last night?” Falcon asked, leaning back with his eyes closed.

  “What the hell was that thing?” Gisbo asked.

  “A spikeslither, usually unaggressive unless you enter their cave. I woke up early and followed your tracks. You just happened to pick the only cave with a spikeslither in it for about a four mile radius,” Falcon said. Gisbo sighed.

  “I’m just lucky like that, apparently,” Gisbo said. He finished cleaning Fao off. With a quick pounce, she leapt from the pool and shook her white coat before collapsing next to a sleeping, purring Akila.

  “Somebody was watching you last night, weren’t they?” Falcon asked. Gisbo turned, surprised.

  “How did you know?” Gisbo replied. Falcon smiled.

  “Your attempt to not let them know where you truly slept was a smart one, and for that I’m proud, but unfortunately, it was in vain. They know we are here and already know where we sleep,” Falcon said.

  “They?” Gisbo asked.

  “Yup, they call themselves ‘The Holy Chosen,’ a group, or as I like to call them, a cult, that resides out here. A mysterious bunch, but so far they have been quite harmless,” Falcon said.

  “Hmm, yeah, whoever the person was disappeared into thin air when I chased after him. Must have been a Soarian,” Gisbo said.

  “As far as I know, the Holy Chosen roam the desert looking for new recruits. Flaria has become . . . sort of a dumping ground in recent years,” Falcon said.

  “A dumping ground?” Gisbo asked. Falcon nodded.

  “You got to understand, Gisbo, that there are other societies out there besides Oak County and Heaven’s Shelter. Most nations have become highly civilized since the days of the Warlords, but there are some civilizations out there that still follow ancient rules and strict traditions. When one breaks certain rules, they are either killed or simply outcast to somewhere very far away. If you were looking to drop such a person off, where would you take them?”

  “Here,” Gisbo said.

  “That’s right. Unfortunately, some cultures out there still believe in honor killings or the caste system or simply have no culture at all, where anything goes. Within such cultures, one’s mistakes can affect the social standings of an entire family. I’m not talking about horrible atrocities, either. Simple things, such as falling in love with a person from another race, for example, can lead to banishment in some cultures,” Falcon said as he began to roll a cigar.

  “That’s terrible . . . and I thought I had it bad,” Gisbo said.

  “Well, you sort of did. If you remember, your head would have
been removed from your neck if I hadn’t stepped in. All because of your very own race.” Falcon smiled as he lit and puffed away.

  “Once again, thanks for that,” Gisbo said. Falcon nodded.

  “No society can be perfect, Gisbo, just as nothing on this planet can perfect. But I am a firm believer that Heaven’s Shelter is about as close as it gets. This is Moordin and Perry’s territory, but I find it funny we can imagine what ‘perfect’ can be like, but it is impossible to actually achieve it. I wonder why that is. But these Holy Chosen, as they call themselves, came together around the need to unite these outcasts and give them a home, a new identity and a sense of belonging. I must admit I am a bit skeptical of the whole thing, though.” Gisbo looked at his Class Master curiously.

  “Why’s that? Seems like a bunch of people looking for a replacement family and a home. What’s so wrong about that?” Gisbo asked.

  “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I just have a gut feeling there is something more behind them. I may be paranoid, but in my experience, I have seen that desperation and, those who can get through it, achieve great rewards. Others see desperation as a way to cash in. Desperate people are in a highly vulnerable position, looking for any kind of comfort or answer. So, what do those wanting to cash in do? They offer them something artificial, something to fill the void, but at a price. Usually, the price is worth more than your life,” Falcon said. Gisbo and Falcon sat in silence for a while and let their thoughts wander.

  “Can you tell me more about Mom?” Gisbo asked. Falcon’s eyes popped open upon such a question.

  “Random, but what else do you want to know?” Falcon replied. Gisbo scratched at the back of his head.

  “Well, I was so blown away by the news you told me yesterday, and now that I’ve had a little time to gather my thoughts, I want to know a few things. Is she the one who named me Gisbo?” Falcon smiled.

  “It was actually my idea. I said it as a joke, but your mother took it quite literally and ran with the idea. You see, many of the parents of your generation didn’t like the attitudes forming in kids who were raised only in Heaven’s Shelter. A bubble, they called it. So many, including me and your mom, began playing at the idea of following the age old Renegade custom of sending our children away to learn some lessons only harsh reality could teach. It was a big act of faith, for all of us, but we all, without a shadow of a doubt, knew it was something we had to do. We raised you till you were four years old, then wiped your memory clean and sent you on your way,” Falcon said.

  “I didn’t even have a choice in the matter though, the crap I went through!” Gisbo said. Falcon shook his head.

  “We probably wouldn’t have done it if your mom and I weren’t sent away, ourselves. We knew you could handle it.”

  “Really? You guys were sent away, too?” Gisbo asked. Falcon nodded.

  “That’s right. It used to be mandatory, but over the years, some parents just could not bear the thought of leaving their child out in the cruel world, alone, to fend for themselves. Instead, they kept them close and did their best to train them themselves.”

  “I guess I understand. So you named me Gisbo and just dropped me off at Oak County? With good ol’ Uncle Karm?” Gisbo asked.

  “Yup, we figured Karm deserved some stress in his life, and on top of that, because of having such an out of place name, you got fighting experience every day from refusing to back down. I knew you had what it took to get through it. I was constantly around under odd identities and taking odd jobs to watch over you. You were always under my watchful eye. If there was ever even a shadow of a doubt that you could not have handled it, we wouldn’t have done it,” Falcon said. Gisbo smiled.

  “I guess I sort of like the idea I made Karm paranoid, at least,” Gisbo said. Falcon opened his eyes and winked at him.

  “That’s the spirit,” Falcon said as he slid deeper into the hot pool.

  “So, what happened to Mom?” Gisbo asked. Gisbo saw a familiar glint in his father’s eyes, and it wasn’t a glint he particulary liked. Gisbo always knew most of Falcon’s happy composure was a façade to cover up deep sorrow and guilt. Falcon sighed deeply.

  “She died,” Falcon said, rather coldly.

  “Well, I figured that, but how?” Gisbo asked. Falcon paused and stared up at the cavern ceiling.

  “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? You’ve been working hard and I think we both need a mental health day. If you want something to do, clean up that spikeslither outside,” Falcon said with a tone of finality.

  Gisbo sighed to himself, hating when his Father resorted to such a cold, unreachable state. He pointed his ring at the tub and shot a red stream of energy into it, and soon the hot pool reached a full-out, dangerous boil. Within seconds, the muck began distilling, and it was gone in several ribbons of steam.

  Gisbo grabbed his sword, put on some pants, and left the cave on his own. He already didn’t like where his mind was taking him. If Falcon didn’t want to talk about something, it usually meant he was responsible in some way. Gisbo didn’t like the thought of it at all, and, even more, was afraid to hear the truth. Gisbo took a deep breath of the morning desert air as he trotted to where the giant spikeslither’s body draped over several caves.

  What a mess, but nothing like a little hard work to get my mind off of things, Gisbo thought to himself. He ignited his sword and began shooting clusters of energy at the giant body, exploding it into several pieces. Gisbo spent the rest of the day cutting them into smaller pieces and setting each part afire to become ash to be blown away in the wind. It was certainly an all day project, and by sunset, Gisbo had cleared away everything except for the green blood splatters. Either way, he couldn’t do anything about it now, for his essence stores were used up and only sleep would replenish them.

  Gisbo collapsed in the sand from exhaustion and watched the sun set, smiling once again at the tranquility of the moment, until a cold, wet tongue began lapping at his face.

  “Come out to visit me, girl?” Gisbo said as Fao plopped down beside him with her belly in the air. Gisbo laughed.

  “You’re something else, dog,” Gisbo said as he scratched his wolf’s belly just the way she liked it. She moaned with delight and her foot kicked and twitched in the air.

  Both the boy and his wolf sat comfortably and, before long, Gisbo found himself collapsing in the sand on his back, drifting off into a sound sleep. An hour passed before Fao twitched and jolted upright, waking Gisbo in the process. A crescent moon now lingered in the sky as Gisbo rubbed his eyes.

  “He’s back, eh, girl?” Gisbo said as he, too, sat up. Fao growled in response.

  “Shhhhh,” Gisbo whispered in Fao’s ear. “Let’s pretend we don’t see ‘em and try to grab him when he gets close,” Gisbo said with a wink. Fao calmed and laid back down. Out of the corner of his eye, Gisbo saw the same head poke out from behind the cave, where, earlier that day, a giant spikeslither was draped.

  The hell do you want, man? Gisbo thought to himself as he noticed the stranger tip toe into the entrance of the cave to take shelter in the darkness. Gisbo could still feel the set of eyes upon him.

  I wish Falcon taught me the Fire Lariat technique. I could shoot one in there and rope him before he up and disappears again. I got to think this through for once, great . . . Gisbo thought, when quite unexpectedly, an idea popped up. Gisbo smiled. Maybe I’m not so stupid, after all. I may get used to this whole patience and precision thing.

  Very slowly, Gisbo reached his hand to the handle of his sword next to him. He grasped it and took a deep breath; he would only have one shot at this. Only a little bit of his essence had returned to him from his quick nap.

  With a jump, Gisbo ignited his blade and swung out at the direction of the cave, unleashing a massive ball of fiery energy. He didn’t wait for it to land. He was already on his feet, following it. The energy ball collided into the sand at the mouth of the cave, spraying it everywhere inside. Gisbo ran quickly and smiled when
he saw a translucent figure making its way through the dusty sand cloud.

  “Gotcha,” Gisbo mouthed. The figure attempted to take flight, but it was too late. Gisbo launched himself forward and grabbed the legs of the would-be escapee and slammed him back down into the sand, spraying up another cloud of dust.

  In a flash, Gisbo was on top of the person. As he reeled back his fist to strike, a terrified squeak interrupted him. The Soarian energy field melted away to reveal a trembling girl with her hands in front of her face.

  “Please! Don’t, don’t hit me! I’m . . . I’m so sorry!” the girl said in a quavering voice. Gisbo cursed to himself, feeling horrible as he helped the poor girl to her feet.

  “And I’m stupid, nice to meet you,” Gisbo said as he thrust out a hand. The girl looked at Gisbo with an odd grimace and slowly took his hand. Now the girl was in full view, Gisbo noticed that she was quite pretty, with long, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and vivid blue eyes. She was also tall, maybe just an inch shy of Gisbo’s height, but the oddest thing Gisbo noticed was her entirely pale face.

  How the hell can somebody be so pale out in the desert? She didn’t just get here, either. Her clothes are shabbier than mine and, man, that was a nice opener there, Gisbo. ‘Hey, I’m stupid!’ Yup, ‘bout right, Gisbo thought.

  “What?” she muttered. Gisbo scratched at the back of his head.

  “Just a lame joke, forget it,” Gisbo said.

  “Oh,” the girl said. A few moments passed without words.

  “Well, this is awkward. Sorry for tackling you, I just didn’t know who you were,” Gisbo said. The girl shook her head.

  “No, no, I’m sorry for snooping, I was just suspicious, is all. Are you an outcast, too?” the girl asked. Gisbo found himself lost for a moment in the girl’s big, blue eyes. They seemed to twinkle in the moonlight.