by J. C. Fiske
“Gisbo, you don’t think . . .” Glinda stopped short as she realized just who she addressed. “ . . . nevermind, you are the last person I should ask. Besides, you should both be focusing on the upcoming fight! I’m ashamed of the two of you,”
“It’s a fine name, Glinda, don’t get all in a huff. Goodness, they are just typical boys,” Kinny said. Glinda blushed and cocked an eye over in Rake’s direction. He leaned against the cave wall away from the group.
“She’s so bossy, always with the, ‘Don’t do that, Grandfield’, ‘Prepare for this, Grandfield’, ‘Put on pants Grandfield!’, the nerve . . .” Grandfield said to Gisbo who laughed.
“Not that boy . . . he’s not your typical boy at all,” Glinda whispered in Kinny’s ear.
“Can we please go? I don’t remember the poem to get back . . .” Rake said, tonelessly. Glinda blushed even more, hoping he didn’t hear her.
“Hey, where’s your Boon, Rake?” Gisbo found himself asking. Suddenly, Rake’s belt began to move as it spiraled up around his midsection. The head of a giant cobra stretched up and over his shoulder with a hiss. Gisbo’s whole being began to shake.
“Something the matter?” Rake asked with a cold glare.
“Ah, damn it . . . you would have a snake,” Gisbo stammered, taking a step back. Everyone looked at him.
“You’re afraid of snakes? Pathetic. I think they are beautiful creatures,” Glinda said, staring at Rake and fluttering her eyelashes. Rake coughed, turned, and walked into the cave, leaving a pouting Glinda behind.
“I guess that means we should get going . . .” Grandfield said, raising to his full height and stretching. The group of Flarians all turned to walk back inside, except for Gisbo, who stood in place.
“You coming?” Kinny asked.
“I . . . I’m not going in the dark with that snake!” Gisbo said, gulping. Glinda rolled her eyes.
“You are such a nuisance. Fine, I remember the poem. Rake and I will go back together!” Glinda said as she skipped into the cave.
“The hell is wrong with that girl? I’ve never seen her so giddy,” Grandfield said. Kinny sighed.
“Boys really are clueless . . . glad I found one who isn’t,” Kinny said. Smiling, she skipped into the cave, too. Gisbo and Grandfield both looked at each other and shrugged.
“Am I missing something here?” Grandfield asked.
“Freakin’ chicks, man, all out of their damned minds,” Gisbo said. “Except for you, Fao.”
“What about Burger?” Grandfield asked. The boar snorted and looked up.
“And . . . Burger. That name is pretty ridiculous, Grandfield,” Gisbo chided.
“Shut up,” Grandfield said. Both boys walked into the cave, said the poem, and they were back in the Ronigades home base. As soon as they arrived, Gisbo saw all of their little group standing beyond the door of Vadid, looking downright beside themselves. Gisbo was about to ask what was the matter until he heard it, too. Grandfield and Gisbo quickly caught up with the group.
“Is that what I think it is?” Gisbo asked. Glinda nodded.
“That’s a crowd! It sounds huge! I’m . . . I’m not ready for this . . .” Glinda said. Even Rake was looking a little out of place as he shuffled his feet back and forth nervously. Kinny shook and breathed heavily.
“I . . . we have to fight in front of a crowd? There’s not even time to rest? What the hell!? The Strifes aren’t even back yet,” Kinny said. At that moment, the double doors in front of them creaked open to reveal Morry’s face.
“Aye! There ya all be! The crowd is getting downright restless out der! The hell ‘ave you Renegades been?” Morry asked.
“We just finished! What is going on in there? We don’t even get time to rest up or anything?” Glinda asked.
“Sorry there, sweetie, but no. Aye, everyone we could fit on the balconies and the floor are here. Lots of people both from Heaven’s Shelter and Glaknabrade. I’ll tell you one thing, though, the Renegades are already makin’ a bad impression. The Strife kids were ready nearly two hours ago. They be out there now, waitin’ for you lot,” Morry said. All the Renegaras looked at each other with fists tightened. The uneasiness in their stomachs soon turned to excitement.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’d hate to keep those bastards waiting,” Gisbo said, smiling as he pounded his fists together.
“Couldn’t agree more. We’ve been training forever. Time to show those snotbags what we got. With our new Boon powers, we should wipe the floor with ‘em. Let’s do this,” Kinny said, fist pumping with a cheer. Everyone joined in except Gisbo and Rake.
“Gisbo, you didn’t cheer . . .” Kinny said. All eyes were now upon him.
“Ugh, well, Rake didn’t either!” Gisbo stammered. Rake looked at him coldly.
“I don’t cheer,” Rake said.
“Come to think of it, you never said if you learned any Boon powers,” Glinda said. Grandfield looked at him, worried.
“Gisbo . . . did you… did you not learn anything in time? You’ll get destroyed out there if you didn’t! Burger told me so,” Grandfield said, deep concern in his eyes. Gisbo looked into the prodding eyes of his group and froze for an awkward moment. Suddenly, he laughed.
“I’m just messin’ with you guys! Of course, I learned it! Jeez, it’s me! Gisbo!” Gisbo said with a fake smile.
“That’s what worries us. Come on, let’s go,” Glinda said. With that, she thrust open the doors and the crowd’s cheers grew even louder as people began to notice them arriving. They made their way across the entrance way to see hundreds of people packed on the balconies, the floor, and every table and chair in the dining area with raised glasses, hooting and hollering.
“So many people . . .” Gisbo said.
“Oh, relax there, Gizzy, you’re all among family here. Only Flarians allowed! Come now, just do your best. This is your time to shine and show off all your new skills in your first real combat! Come on, follow me, everyone!” Morry said. He made his way through the crowd and toward the arena where the Strife fighters were all lined up, Boons by their sides and arms folded, waiting impatiently.
The Renegaras made their way to meet them, their Boons following in tow. Before them was a table with a large, empty seat before it. Already, the Renegaras could feel Strife kids’ eyes upon them. It was far worse than the crowd.
“Hey, gorgeous, miss me?” Randy asked with a gruesome wink. The skin barely went over his large, dewy eyes. Kinny shuddered with a look of disgust.
“Ugh,” Kinny muttered and turned away.
“Hey, pig, I hope I draw you so I can add more bruises to your ugly face,” Glinda said, eyeing the strife she attacked earlier. The boy was at a loss for words as he gritted his teeth in fury.
“You shouldn’t talk so stoutly. Cyrus was simply caught by surprise. Should you face him again, things will go differently,” Quil said. A large vulture sat upon his shoulder and screeched loudly in agreement. Before Glinda could offer a counter point, Malik suddenly shoved his way through the group and thrust his face into Gisbo’s, who he looked up and down, and then smiled wickedly.
“If I wanted a kiss, I’d ask your mother, assface,” Gisbo said. Malik continued smiling.
“I couldn’t help but notice your nose was healed . . .” Malik said.
“Sorry to disappoint,” Gisbo said. Malik shook his head.
“I’m far from dissapointed. I’m excited to break it again,” Malik said. Gisbo snarled and gritted his teeth. Suddenly, the large doorway across from the fighting circle the group was standing in creaked open. The crowd immediately quieted down as a man walked across the floor and made himself comfortable in the barren seat across the table from them. The man was none other than Gisbo’s grandfather. As he sat, he eyed Gisbo strangely. Gisbo couldn’t quite tell what mood he was trying to imply, but it was only for a moment as he rose his voice to speak.
“Finally, the Renegaras show themselves. You are all quite late,” Gisbo’s gran
dfather said. He let that statement linger for a while, much to the dismay of every Renegade in attendance.
“If you didn’t already know, my name is Frank McCarley. We, as Flarians, all look forward to this special event every year. This is where us old-timers get to see a glimpse of the potential of the newest generation to follow us in this world. May your fighting spirits all warm our hearts and remind us of our glory days long gone. Now, to business.
“You have all been training hard these past months. Much is at your disposal and the time has come to put these skills to the test in real combat. You are warriors. Prove it to us, prove it to your Class Masters, and bring pride to your Flarian race, all gathered here today to witness the future of our bloodline. Spill it all on the battlefield, hold nothing back, and embrace the glory that belongs to each and every one of you. Having said that, may the Class Masters of these fighters please make their way down here and join side by side with your students? We will then begin . . .” Frank ordered.
The crowd began to part, and several people made their way through the crowd and out onto the fighting circle. At this moment, Gisbo thought of his dad and how he would not be able to see the results of their training together. This pained him as Douglas soon appeared at his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Cheer up, Gizzy, I’ll tell your dad every detail. I promise,” Doug said with a wink. Gisbo forced a smile. Gisbo’s grandfather again raised his voice to the crowd.
“Now we are gathered, may the Class Masters stand before me and prepare their essences. Let the roullete begin,” Frank ordered. The Class Masters walked forward and stood in a line. Frank reached under the table and pulled up a strange, steel sphere and placed it atop it. The Class Masters all ignited their essences and placed a hand upon the sphere. Immediately, it began to glow brightly.
“Class Masters, we now gather together and offer forth our essences in tribute to our students into this roullete orb and honor the ancient traditions of our race. Just as your Class Masters before you, it is now your turn to release your students from your care. Your turn to now put your essence into this sacred orb, which contains the essences of many Flarian bloodlines before you, has come. In an act of submission, you must now submit your essence, all of it, so, no matter what happens within this ring, you will not interfere. In this act of submission, you put your full confidence into your student and your student’s skills. If you do not comply or do not feel your student is ready for what is to come, you will withdraw upon the saying of your blood name. Is this understood?” Frank said, eyeing the Class Masters closely. They all nodded in unison.
“Then let us begin in no particular order. Bloodline of Kinny Kalloway. Is your student ready?” Frank asked. Kalloway looked back at her daughter and smiled proudly.
“More than ever. I submit,” Kalloway said. With that, the orb sucked away her essence. Kalloway took a wobbly step away from the orb and joined her daughter.
“Bloodline of Quil Halgood. Is your student ready?” Frank asked. A tall man who was just as handsome as his son stepped forward with a wave of his long hair. He looked back at his son.
“My son is wise as he is strong. He is ready; I submit,” Quil’s father said. He released his essence and stepped back beside his son. This continued until everyone was completed except for Gisbo. Doug now stood alone.
“Bloodline of Gisbo McCarley. Is your student ready?” Frank asked. Gisbo felt a pain in his gut. Before he knew it, he interrupted his grandfather.
“My name is Gisbo Falcon. My father is a great man and my Class Master. That is my name. Say it correctly,” Gisbo said. All eyes were upon him now, but Gisbo did not feel embarrassed whatsoever. His grandfather looked upon him with a hard gaze. Gisbo matched it without restraint.
“That name is not to be mentioned within these walls. I repeat, bloodline of Gisbo McCarley, do you . . .” Frank started. It was at that point Douglas interrupted.
“You old crab. Not everyone feels the way you do. Give the boy his proper name, it is his right,” Douglas said fiercely. Frank was taken aback. He glared at his son, and then back at Gisbo. He waited a long moment before continuing.
“Bloodline of Gisbo Falcon, is your student ready?” Frank asked, a dangerous edge to his voice. Douglas looked back at Gisbo, then at his own father.
“I believe he has just proved he is more than ready. I submit,” Douglas said. The orb took all of Doug’s essence away from him and he stepped back to join Gisbo by his side. Gisbo looked up at him.
“Thanks, Uncle,” Gisbo said.
“Don’t mention it,” Doug answered. The rest followed in suit and upon finishing, the orb on the desk began to glow brightly, and slowly began to spin and pick up speed. Round and round it went until it began to emit a loud, wooing noise and lifted itself off the table into the air on its own power. It rose and rose and stopped itself just before it hit the high ceiling. It stopped spinning and hovered there, wrapped in Flarian essence.
“It is done. Morry, if you would, remove this table from the ring,” Frank said. Morry bowed.
“Yessir,” Morry said as he did as he was told. All of them watched the strange orb floating in the air. Frank smiled with excitement.
“It is time. Fighters, make your way before me and stand in front in a line, please,” Frank said. The Renegaras and Strifes stepped away from their Class Masters and did as Frank ordered.
“The rules are quite simple for the Flarian tournament. You will all compete one on one in turns. You are allowed one loss. Upon your second loss, you are eliminated from the tournament, but are still allowed to watch . . . if you can. Weapons of any kind are not allowed within this match. It is simply hand-to-hand combat. However, any Boon powers you may have learned may be used. They aren’t weapons, after all, but extensions of self.
“You can lose in a total of three ways. First, if you give the sign of surrender to your opponent, you lose. Second, should you lose consciousness in any way, you are elminated. And third, should you die, obviously you cannot continue and are eliminated. Do you all understand?” Frank asked, pacing back and forth in front of the fighters.
“Has anyone ever died before?” Grandfield asked. Frank stopped and looked at him.
“Yes,” Frank said. He then continued as if this was not a problem to be worried about whatsoever.
“Now that you understand the rules, let us discover who will be facing off in the first round of bouts. If you would, raise your rings and point them toward the orb hovering above you and the roulette will begin,” Frank said. The fighters did as they were told and lifted their rings to the sky. Without even trying, their essence seemed to ignite on their own, and rope-like energy erupted from the rings and connected to their orb. It immediately began to spin once again.
“Release,” Frank ordered. They did so, and all watched as the steel orb spun and spun in a fiery blaze.
“Wait a minute, we all did it at once! You mean we could fight each other?” Gisbo asked. Frank looked at him.
“There is no Renegade or Strife here. You are Flarians, so yes, you very well could be fighting a fellow Renegade or a fellow Strife. I didn’t think it needed to be said,” Frank said. The group suddenly looked at each other. Even the Strifes were surprised by this news.
“Do not look disappointed. If you are so concerned by your pride in your factions, if you must know, last year’s tournament was won by a Renegade. Let’s see if that holds true this year,” Frank said. The Renegaras all looked at the Strifes smugly.
“What was their name?” Glinda asked.
“Ranto,” Frank said. At this, Gisbo tightened his fist. Grandfield looked at him and shook his head in disgust. The orb above them began to slow down. As it did, it seemed the essence began to leak out of it slowly in two separate, red mist clouds.
“And the first two fighters will be . . .” Frank started. The mist clouds began to stretch apart from one another, and slowly the clouds began to form written names within the air. Gisbo
squinted and, before long, the names were crystal clear. He was shocked by what he saw.
Chapter Nine: Gisbo vs. Kinny
“Kinny Kalloway versus Gisbo Falcon!” Frank bellowed. Gisbo and Kinny both shot each other looks of dismay.
“WHAT!?” Gisbo yelled. “Hold on a minute, I’m not fighting . . . A GIRL!”
“Excuse me, but what do you mean by THAT!?” Kinny said, crossing her arms.
“Just what I said! I ain’t fighting no girl. Spin it again, gramps!” Gisbo yelled. Frank looked at him coldly.
“The roulette’s decision is final. Fighters, make your way to the center of the ring. Everyone else, make your way outside of it as the diamond mass is lowered around them,” Frank said. Immediately, everyone turned, walking away, leaving Gisbo and Kinny by their lonesome.
“Hey! Hold up! This ain’t fair!” Gisbo yelled.
“Hey! Your opponent is me; look this way,” Kinny yelled, thrusting a thumb toward her chest. Her wolverine beside her scraped its claws against the stone floor.
“Hey, yourself! I’m not fighting no girl,” Gisbo said, folding his arms.
“Why do you keep saying that?! I’m a fighter and a Renegade, just like you, damn it! Don’t give me this chivalry crap! Chivalry’s dead!” Kinny said.
“Yeah! And chicks like you killed it, missy!” Gisbo fired back.
“You’re just like every other boy out there, Gisbo! You think a girl’s place is in the kitchen and makin’ babies, huh?” Kinny asked. Gisbo looked at her wide-eyed.
“I NEVER SAID THAT!” Gisbo yelled. Fao barked in response.
“Whatever. Some things don’t need to be said. Get ready, Gisbo, ‘cause I’m gonna kick your ass!” Kinny said.
“Yeah, and you’re just like every other girl! Out of your damned mind and puttin’ words in my mouth! This ain’t right!” Gisbo said.
“Quit your whinin’, Gisbo!” Kinny said.
“Psh, that means a lot comin’ from you . . .” Gisbo said.
“SHUT UP!” Kinny yelled.