by J. C. Fiske
“Are you okay?” the girl asked.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. And, ugh, yeah, you can say I’m an outcast, but I have a home. I’m just out here to . . . uh . . .” Gisbo said, not quite sure where his sentence was leading.
“No, I understand. I still hold on to the thought of home, too, don’t worry about it, I understand completely. You don’t have to talk to me about it if you don’t want to. I just, I . . .” the girl said, trailing off, and then she stretched out her hand.
“I’m Nina,” she said, smiling.
“I’m, I’m Gisbo,” he said. Here it comes, he thought.
“That’s a funny name,” Nina said. Gisbo grimaced.
“Well, Nina’s stupid, too!” Gisbo blurted out, already clammering his hands over his mouth. Nina did not seem offended. She laughed.
“I didn’t mean I didn’t like it. It’s cute,” Nina said with a smile. Gisbo grimaced at the thought, not knowing whether “cute” was a good replacement for “funny.”
“I . . . yeah, sorry, Nina’s a . . . a cute name, too,” Gisbo said, already cringing at his own reply. Even so, Nina smiled.
“You think so?” Nina asked.
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Gisbo said. Damn it, I hate girls, Gisbo thought.
“Are you going to shake my hand or not?” Nina asked. Gisbo looked down.
“Oh! Sorry!” Gisbo said as he took Nina’s hand. He felt a multitude of little scars all around Nina’s palm, as well as blisters. Nina must have noticed it herself as she quickly pulled away.
“Sorry, sometimes I forget they are there. Got to work hard to stay alive out here!” Nina said, laughing nervously. Gisbo eyed her curiously as she stuck her hands in the pockets of her tattered pants.
“Yeah, it’s rough. I didn’t notice anything, actually. And, again, sorry for tackling you, I just didn’t know if you were a threat because you didn’t say anything last night and . . .” Gisbo started.
“Last night? I wasn’t here last night.” Nina said. “I was just flying about and saw you all alone out here and,” Nina started when suddenly her eyes bulged for a moment and she cocked her head, as if listening to something.
“Sorry, I have to go! I’m late! We’ll talk later!” Nina said, and in a yellow flash, she was up in the air and began to fly out of sight.
“What! Where the hell you going? When’s later?” Gisbo yelled to her. She stopped mid-flight and shouted back.
“I’ll come find you! Till then!” she called back, and in a rush of yellow, she was gone. Gisbo stood, mouth agape, and watched the yellow remains of her essence absorb back into the air. Fao trotted up next to him and looked up with a whine.
“Freakin’ chicks, Fao, all out of their damn minds,” Gisbo said. Fao whimpered. “Oh, except you, of course. Come on, let’s go back to Falcon.”
Fao suddenly growled again, looking back over to the far side of the caves. Gisbo turned, and this time, there most certainly was someone there, a man, leaning causually against a cave, with his arms folded, watching him.
“Easy, girl . . .” Gisbo said to Fao as the man lifted himself off the cave wall gently upon being discovered and walked toward him, arms behind him, set at ease, until he stood ten feet away from Gisbo. He was tall, garbed in a white hooded cloak and upon his head, stranger still, was the skull of a goat hiding his features beneath his hood. Gisbo shivered all over and felt an immense pressure coming from the stranger, but odder still were the dried, black stains splashed all across the snow white cloak. Gisbo originally thought of the Drakeness at first glance, but upon closer inspection, Gisbo realized just what the blackness was.
Dried blood.
“The hell are you supposed to be?” Gisbo asked, doing his best to come off unafraid. The man seemed to step from a nightmare and didn’t say anything, only stood as still as a statue, arms behind his back.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Gisbo asked. “Answer me, damn it!”
“One who walks between,” the goat man said in a muffled, deep, dark tone.
“Yeah, because that explains everything. What the hell do you want?” Gisbo asked.
“You already know, you just don’t understand,” the goat man said.
“Okay, yeah, I have a limited attention span as it is. You have fun standing out here by yourself, creepy guy, I’m leaving,” Gisbo said as he turned around, half expecting the goat man to say something to stop him, but nothing came. Gisbo turned around, ready to give the man what for, only to find he was gone, seemingly vanished.
“What. The. Hell?” Gisbo mumbled.
“A girl, you say,” Falcon clarified, leaning against the cave wall, reading a book.
“Yeah, and then this weird guy in a goat mask,” Gisbo said.
“And you tackled her?” Falcon asked. Gisbo sat down across from him.
“Well, I didn’t know she was a girl when I did it! It was the same person who was watching me for no apparent reason last night,” Gisbo said. Falcon closed his book and rubbed at his beard.
“So, she introduced herself, didn’t explain why she watching you, then suddenly just took off?” Falcon said.
“That’s right. Weird, huh?” Gisbo said.
“Still, a Soarian girl, all alone, way out here . . . and you say her hands were covered with scars?” Falcon asked.
“Yeah, but it was strange, as if she forgot they were there or something. Then, as soon as I touched them, she ripped her hand back. I don’t get it at all,” Gisbo said. Falcon rose to his feet and began pacing.
“And you say she was an outcast, correct? Pale face, as well? Hm, quite unusual for somebody surviving out in these deserts . . . something stinks about this whole situation. I don’t like it,” Falcon said.
“Do you think she is a part of the Holy Chosen? What do you know about them?” Gisbo asked.
“I believe, based on what you have told me, she indeed is, along with this goat man. He must be a higher up within the cult, sent to keep an eye on that girl. As for the Holy Chosen, all I know is that they are a highly secretive group, but that doesn’t mean they hide themselves. Quite the contrary, actually. You see, just over the Flarian border is a place that holds to a small, yet profitable, civilization. Karm’s men reside there when going on their daily patrols to hunt down Flarians. Fortunate for us, they don’t dare travel out where we are. Too dangerous, and not worth the chance to catch a measly Flarian or two. Their mindset is that, if a Flarian resides out here, they must already be dead.”
“Makes sense, considering some of these caves are filled with spikeslithers,” Gisbo said.
“And don’t forget about the stonescythes and ravengers, and of course the various patches of quicksand,” Falcon said.
“Jeez . . .”
“But anyway, the Holy Chosen are the ones who own and run the small civilization. Karm made some agreement with them not to intervene in their way of life so long as his men are allowed to reside there comfortably. Call it a sanctuary. What that agreement is, nobody really knows. But the small settlement, known as Sand Lake City, despite the name, is quite a beautiful place. It can’t hold a candle to Heaven’s Shelter, of course, but it is, quite possibly, the best money can buy, and could even give Oak County a run for its money.
“Anyway, the Holy Chosen call it home and they own it all, down to the last kernel of sand. The ability to amass so many funds to build such a paradise in so little time, especially in an area such as this, rubs me the wrong way,” Falcon said.
“Well, if they live in such luxury over there, then how does that explain Nina’s hands being all cut up? Maybe she isn’t living over there and is all alone out here like us,” Gisbo said. Falcon shook his head.
“Impossible, I’m sure she is a part of that organization. If she were living out here, she would be tanned from head to toe, and a girl all alone, especially so timid as you describe her, would never survive,” Falcon said.
“Well, what if she only comes out at night? Then . . . well, this is
too weird,” Gisbo said.
“Gisbo, I want you to be careful with this girl. I have a feeling she will try to find you again, and when she does, be on your guard and find out what you can.”
“She thinks that I’m an outcast. Should I just stick to that story?” Gisbo asked. Falcon nodded.
“That is exactly what you should stick to. This organization doesn’t hate Flarians, but sure as hell doesn’t mind allowing killers of Flarians to stay among them. Come up with an alias,” Falcon said. Gisbo smacked his forehead.
“Oh no . . . I told her my name,” Gisbo said. Falcon’s eyes lit up.
“You did not . . .” Falcon sighed. Gisbo nodded sheepishly.
“Then it is no longer safe here. We can’t take any chances on who that girl would share such a name as yours with. Grab your things, we are relocating. You have learned much within these few months. I believe you are ready for the next step in your training. One more month under me won’t make a difference. All that was required of you within these three months was to hit me once, and you, my dear son, hit me twice. I’m proud of ya,” Falcon said with a smile as he ruffled Gisbo’s hair. He began packing his belongings.
“Yeah, Rolce already filled me in. I’m going to go train under the Flarian elders, right?” Gisbo said.
“Not quite, all the Flarian elders are dead,” Falcon said. Gisbo looked a little shocked at this news.
“Well, who are all the other Flarian Renegaras going to train under, then?” Gisbo asked.
“The next best thing,” Falcon said.
“Which is?” Gisbo said. Falcon stood upright and sighed in absolute contempt.
“My father,” Falcon said.
Chapter Three: All in the Family
“Your . . . dad?” Gisbo asked. Falcon sighed again.
“Yes, Gisbo, my dad, your grandpa,” Falcon said as he went back to packing.
“You sound like you have a problem with him.”
“One could say that, but it’s more or less the other way around,” Falcon said.
“How so?” Gisbo asked. Falcon was clearly getting annoyed at this point.
“Alright! Enough with the damn questions!” Falcon snapped with a harshness Gisbo had seen before, but never directed toward him. Either way, it was scary enough to cause him to drop his pack to the floor. Falcon sighed and ran a hand down his face.
“I’m sorry, Gisbo, that was uncalled for. When it comes to me and my father, things are . . . tense. Let’s just leave it at that for now,” Falcon said.
“I can respect that,” Gisbo said.
They spent the next twenty minutes in silence, packing up their belongings and getting rid of all signs they resided in the cave. For the first time in months, Gisbo suited up in his Renegara outfit. He had to admit, it felt good to be back in the blue uniform, and he especially loved the addition of white added to it, along with the longer bandana tails and the short cape. Sure beats the scarf, Gisbo thought as he peered at himself in the reflection of the pool.
“Alright, put out those torches and we will be on our way,” Falcon said. Gisbo did as he was told, glad to hear the friendly tone in his father’s voice once again, and followed him out of the cave into the moonlit night.
They walked until the reached the spot where, earlier that day, the giant spikeslither lay dead.
“I see you did a thorough job cleaning up,” Falcon said.
“All except the blood. I ran out of essence,” Gisbo said.
“Don’t worry about that. By now, the desert wind has had more then enough time to blow it all away.
“Okay, we are going skeet to our destination. We don’t need anyone following our tracks if Karm’s men decide to feel encouraged to work harder,” Falcon said.
“What about Fao and Akila?” Gisbo asked. Falcon smiled.
“I think it is about time I showed you the summoning tecnique,” Falcon said.
“I’ve seen you and Moordin use it a few times,” Gisbo said.
“Yes. You see, your Boon was born at the very moment your soul needed guidance, which usually comes when you reach manhood and the time your innocence is near over. You are both connected, and your Boon is a reflection of what you are inside, thrust into the pysical realm. You’ll learn many techniques for combining Fao’s powers with your own, but for now, let us start with the most basic. Trust me, it is as easy as igniting your Elekai’ weapon,” Falcon said.
“But I didn’t even learn that, it just came naturally,” Gisbo said.
“Exactly! An Elekai’ warrior, realistically, can become as powerful as their imagination wills it. If one believes, truly believes, their imagination has no limits, they can have no limit as their limit.”
“That makes absolutely no sense,” Gisbo said.
“Open your mind a little and you may understand one day. Now, down to business. All you do is shout her name, lift your ring to the sky, ignite your essence, and Fao will know what to do. Through this process, you will, in a way, absorb Fao’s essence into you. Immediately, Fao’s mind will link with yours, and from there, Fao will take care of the rest. She will know where she must go in her essence form because, in a way, you both thought of it,” Falcon said.
“Hm, so basically, if I got this right, Fao is made up of essence?” Gisbo asked.
“Yes, all living things are, even us. Fao is a special sort and her essence is bound to your soul,” Falcon said.
“So, in a way, she is my soul?” Gisbo asked.
“No, not fully. If she were fully your soul and if she was struck down in battle, that means that you would die. Fao is merely an outlet for your innermost self to communicate with you in the physical realm.”
“So are you saying my soul is bound to me here, but actually resides somewhere else? Where?” Gisbo asked.
“I didn’t say I had all the answers. I guess, in a way, it is a little how a Sybil’s Mind-Link functions, taking your mind to another plane of existence, except this plane is only for you. I’ve always wondered where our souls actually reside. Everyone seems to picture the chest area, but I believe your soul and your mind are actually the same thing; it’s just stored in the mush we call a brain.
“Sorry, all I’m trying to do is make this clearer to you, and I’m making it more difficult. All you must understand are the logistics of the thing to use Fao’s powers. This summoning tecnique is just a basic. Once you can absorb Fao’s essence into yourself, then thrust it where you wish, it can unlock a host of new powers and abilities,” Falcon said.
“Really? Like what?” Gisbo asked. Falcon shrugged.
“I couldn’t tell you. Just as every person is unique, so are Boons and the abilities at their disposal. You can’t fully know the inner me, just as I can’t fully understand the inner you. However, Fao can, and on common ground you can develop unbelievable combinations,” Falcon said.
“Wow,” Gisbo said, looking down at his wolf.
“Yup,” Falcon said.
“And only Renegades have Boons? Why is that?” Gisbo asked. Falcon shrugged.
“Hard to say, I guess. As much as life is our choice to live, I believe there are some things we just can’t seem to get around, whether we like it or not. Not everyone is cut out to be a Renegade, as you know, and this special gift of having a Boon seems to only cross those worthy enough to become Renegades. There has never been an instance of someone becoming a Renegade and a Boon not arriving. I believe these special people have always existed, but over time, they found each other, and thus, started the Renegades. Nobody really knows for sure, though, too much time has passed,” Falcon said.
“Crazy. So, let me get this cleared up. I have to absorb Fao, who is essence bound to my soul, back into me. And then our minds link, and I picture the place Fao’s essence needs to travel, and, boom, Fao’s essence leaves me for the time being to that place?” Gisbo asked.
“You got it,” Falcon said.
“This is still so confusing,” Gisbo said.
“As soon as
you do it, you will understand, and the more you do it, the more both of you will begin to develop ways to use new abilities together,” Falcon said.
“Okay, I’m gonna give it a try.”
“Shoot,” Falcon said. Gisbo closed his eyes and lifted his ring to the sky. He pictured the first time he saw Fao and the odd connection he felt with her. He held onto that feeling once more and felt a rush of energy absorb into him, and suddenly he felt absolute clarity. All worries, all problems in the world seemed to dissolve. Gisbo had never felt such peace before in his life; as if, for a moment, his life made sense and his purpose was laid out before him.
A large green pasture spread out before him, tucked right in the middle of what looked to be a very dark forest. A full moon capped the sky and lit all the moisture on the blades of grass, giving off a sparkling sensation. A cool breeze brushed across Gisbo’s skin as he paced around to take in the beauty of it all, but he also felt an eerie feeling radiating from the pitch black forest around him.
“Hello, boy!” Fao suddenly said. Gisbo’s eyes went wide as he turned around and saw his wolf sitting in the meadow.
“Wha! You can talk?” Gisbo said. Fao laughed in a sweet, delicate, female tone.
“Of course, I can talk! Here, that is, because we aren’t really talking. We are now completely whole,” Fao said. Gisbo walked around, continuing to take in the scenery. Fao continued.
“For example, let me guess. You’re thinking Rolce would be impressed because you can actually picture something outdoors, roam around, and there seems to be no limit to what you can picture, compared to Rolce’s imagination of your dorm room. You can even see mountains far off in the distance if you look hard enough over the trees,” Fao said.
“Hey! How’d you know that?” Gisbo said.
“Because I was thinking the same thing. And you are correct. Your imagination far surpasses Rolce’s calculative mind. This area, you created it, and, as far as I know, you could walk for eternity without finding an end,” Fao said.