by J. C. Fiske
Kalloway made a motion forward with her hand and tapped at something around Gisbo’s shoulder. Gisbo didn’t notice it before, but realized his whole shoulder was in a sling. His eyes bugged out upon realization.
“Calm down, and just relax. Nothing is broken. The muscles in your shoulder, as well as the rotorary cup, took signifigant damage. Your shoulder popped clean out and the muscles tore along with it. I’m afraid you are going to have trouble hyper extending your arm . . .” Kalloway said. Gisbo put on a puzzled look. Kalloway sighed, not wanting to give bad news.
“In other words, because of your shoulder, you won’t be able to swing your Talon sword any more. It will irritate it and cause your arm to convulse, rendering it useless. I’m so sorry, Gisbo, I know that was your favorite weapon,” Kalloway said. Gisbo looked at his shoulder, and then back to Kalloway.
“It is really alright, though. You will still be a Renegade, Gisbo, you will just have to master lighter weapons, is all! You will just have to change up your style, be more patient and exact with your attacks. It may be hard, but not impossible,” Kalloway said.
“You . . . don’t know me,” Gisbo grumbled.
“Cheer up, honey, it will be okay,” Kalloway said. There was a knock at the door. Kalloway turned, and then looked back to Gisbo.
“Seems your aunt has come to see you yet again! She’s been worried sick over you. Come on in, Barb!” Kalloway yelled. The door swung open and in walked Gisbo’s Aunt Barb, brandishing her trademark warm face with an even warmer smile once she realized Gisbo was awake. She rushed over to him and embraced him in a gentle hug. Her perfume smelled like wildflowers. It seemed that, no matter what room his Aunt walked into, she warmed all your senses. Even taste, as she brought in Gisbo’s latest favorite snack; tomato soup and grilled cheese with two cups of ice cold water. He sat up in bed and munched with delight.
“I’m so glad you are okay, honey. Doug and I have been so worried about you,” Barb said in a kind, sweet voice as she reached out and ruffled his hair. Gisbo belched loudly and realized he had inhaled his grilled cheese and tomato soup without warning.
“Don’t worry, I’ll cook you up some more,” Barb said
“I’ll just leave you two alone. If you need me, I’m just a yell away,” Kalloway said as she rose and made her way out the door. Gisbo turned to face his aunt, able to find his voice once again after he downed both of his glasses of cold water. His whole belly felt hot and warm and he loved the feeling as he relaxed back in his bed.
“So, before we get to me, is Kinny alright?” Gisbo asked. “What the hell happened to her out there? How’d she learn something like that?”
“Why don’t you look beside you?” Barb said, motioning to Gisbo’s right. Gisbo did and spied an odd machine-type contraption that looked more like a metal-clad casket with a glass top. Horror crossed over Gisbo’s eyes as he thrust himself out of bed and collapsed atop the casket for support.
“Kinny! She’s . . . she’s . . .” Gisbo started.
“Alive, honey, she’s alive,” Barb said as she placed a hand on Gisbo’s shoulder. Gisbo looked up at his aunt, and then back down at Kinny in the glass casket, realizing it was hooked up to what looked like a form of air machine.
“So, this machine is keeping her alive?” Gisbo asked.
“It is a Soarian lung. You see, Kinny is in a form of a coma,” Barb said. Gisbo pressed his face against the glass to peer in. He had to admit, Kinny looked strangely peaceful and had a slight smile, a smile without regret, even with all the bruises and bandages that covered her body and pretty face. Gisbo noticed, too, oddly enough, full on flowers bloomed out between her bandages. She looked like a living plant.
“She looks . . . she’s smiling. She seems so peaceful, and what is the deal with those flowers?” Gisbo asked. His aunt walked forward and placed a hand on the Soarian lung and looked in at Kinny.
“The way Kalloway explained it, she used a special technique that required great risk. The flowers are just a side effect.” Barb said.
“Oh, wow, so she’s going to be alright? So, when is she gonna wake up then?” Gisbo asked. Barb hung her head.
“I don’t know all the details, but, with that technique, she had a fifty-fifty chance of nearly losing her essence and life force or being perfectly sound after a day. It seems the former happened. She lost the gamble, and now it could be days, months, or even many years before she wakes up. It is all up to her and her body now to regain what she lost. There is a chance she may never wake up again . . .” Barb said, sighing.
“Kinny . . . what am I gonna tell Rolce? Still, she was amazing out there,” Gisbo said, as he gave a half smile and placed his hand over the glass. “She really did give that ass face what for. She really did have what it took to give him hell. I should have believed in her. However, what he . . . what that monster did to her afterward . . .”
Gisbo tightened his right fist in a shuttering rage. It quivered, and again he felt the door in his subconscious rattle, when suddenly a realization occurred to him.
“The . . . the tournament! What, what happened? Who won!?” Gisbo asked frantically.
“Are you sure you want to know?” Barb asked. Gisbo’s stomach tightened. He sighed deeply.
“Just . . . tell me what happened.”
“Well, after you rushed in to save Kinny’s life while the match was still continuing from that . . . that AWFUL technicality,” Barb started, until Kalloway made her way inside.
“I’ll tell you what happened!” Kalloway said, gritting her teeth until she re-gained her compsure and let out a dep breath. “Sorry, I’m sorry for that outburst, but, Gisbo, I am deeply indebted to you. You saved my daughter’s life. That Malik . . . he’s a monster waiting to happen. He went into an utter rage because, in the end, he did not defeat Kinny. Kinny defeated herself. Her essence ran out just a moment before Malik’s did and her strike rebounded back to her and defeated her. Malik had victory snatched from him; he could not handle it, so he did what he did. Kinny’s skull was one punch away from being fractured totally. She could have been brain dead and that stone-hearted, beast of a man, Frank, he did nothing to stop him because of the rules. I cannot ever forgive that man, ever! I am so sorry you are related to such a horrible man, Gisbo. I truly am,” Kalloway said.
“I’m starting to want to take that apology. What the hell is the point to this place, Kalloway? What is the Ronigades purpose here? I just see nothing to this at all!” Gisbo started. Kalloway smiled grimly.
“You are one of the few who thinks the same way I do. I am taking Kinny back to Heaven’s Shelter with me. We are leaving tonight and I plan on never returning,” Kalloway said.
“What is going on here, Kalloway?” Gisbo asked.
“I see no purpose in keeping anything from you, the boy who may have saved my daughter’s life. You want to know the big secret here? At one time, Frank, as well as the others here, lost their closest friends, their synergy mates. They weren’t the only ones, however. Those who weren’t Flarians were welcomed back into their countries of origin by the elders who maintain their way of life. They all needed a change. Heaven’s Shelter brought up too many painful memories for them to deal with, so they left.
“The Flarians weren’t so lucky. They had nothing to return to. Their homeland, their culture, everything, was destroyed, lost to the howling winds. They were scattered, without anyone to guide them. Until your grandfather decided to step up and seek to rebuild their homeland. He took charge, he gathered the Flarian Ronigades under his wing, and together they left and built this place. This was only supposed to be temporary, a hideout, made to recouperate and train for that special day.
“Instead, this dismal place became their home and they lost the fire in their hearts that made them want to come together to begin with. Have you ever wondered why this place doesn’t even have a name? It’s called the Flarians home or the home of the Ronigades, nothing more. Because this was only supposed to be temporary. Now
they spend their days fighting the ghosts of their pasts with alcohol and fighting. If anything, your grandfather was the trendsetter for it,” Kalloway said.
“You talk about a special day. What do you mean by that? Why did they come here to begin with?” Gisbo asked.
“Well, when I said the Flarians came here to rebuild their homeland, it was a slight of tongue. What I mean to say, was to reclaim it,” Kalloway said. Gisbo’s eyes lit up.
“Reclaim it?” Gisbo asked. Kalloway nodded.
“The Holy Chosen’s city, Sand Lake City, was once the kingdom of Flaria, the home of our ancestors and where Vadid the Valiant once ruled, Cledwyn City. It was destroyed during the great Veil War and, with help from Karm and his men, the twisted religion claimed the rubble as its own and rebuilt it from the ground up. It is Holy Ground, the Phoenix and the Dragon did battle above it, and the Dragon was struck down upon it with a blast from the Phoenix before Vadid himself ripped open the Reath and cast the Dragon, Drakearon, and all its followers into it.
“It was the site of victory, and the end of the four Warlords. When the others saw Vadid’s sacrifice and power, they let the cycle of hate end and they all came under one banner, under Vadid and the Phoenix, and thus, Oak County was formed under the one Warlord. But now, Oak County has been corrupted by that idiot Karm and he is giving support to this Holy Chosen.
“Something dastardly is going on within the walls of that city. The Ronigades were supposed to discover what it is, were supposed to defeat and reclaim it for the Flarians once again. But, as I said, it is a lost dream. They are ruled by their own addictions and the darkness in their hearts now and have lost their spark and drive. They keep it a secret, and your grandfather, your damned grandfather, has become so twisted. He is lost, I fear, forever. An automaton of cold reason and rules over what actually makes his heart beat. That is why I am leaving with Kinny. I once had hope for this dream, but not anymore,” Kalloway said. Suddenly, it seemed everything Kalloway had just explained to Gisbo went over his head. A realization came to his mind.
“He did this to my arm?” Gisbo asked. Barb nodded.
“Yes, you charged at Malik, surprising him enough to drop Kinny to end the match officially, but in turn, your grandfather pounced upon you from behind and stopped you from interfering any further. From what he unnecessarily did, your arm will, I’m afraid, never be the same again,” Barb said.
Gisbo walked over to his bed in silence and lowered his head as he sat atop the mattress. Several long moments passed before he spoke again. He spied his Talon sword, leaning against the wall where Fao slept soundly. He got up and walked toward it and placed a hand on its cold, steely surface.
“I’ll never be able to swing this again?” Gisbo asked.
“I’m sorry, Gisbo, but no,” Kalloway said. Gisbo lowered his head and breathed out deeply before pounding his fist against the wall.
“Why the hell does all this happen to me? What did I ever do to deserve all this crap in my life? Why is it all the whack jobs out there doing the evil stuff live comfortably and nothing goes wrong for them, huh? Why is it always me who has to be different!? WHY!?” Gisbo screamed as tears of rage and frustration rolled down his face. “A guy has only so much willpower, can take only so much! Why is it always me with these burdens? Why!?”
“Gisbo . . .” Barb started.
“NO! I . . .” Gisbo then paused and gritted his teeth. “Who won the tournament?”
Barb lowered her head and did not answer.
“WHO, DAMN IT!?” Gisbo yelled.
“You don’t need to know; it’s only going to make you feel worse,” Barb said.
“DAMN IT! THAT FRIGGIN’ ASS FACE! HE WON!? WHY!?” Gisbo screamed as he slammed his fist against the wall. “I’ll never forgive him. I’ll never forgive what he did to Kinny. NEVER! Someday, I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna kill him with my bare hands,” Gisbo yelled as he kicked the dull side of his Talon sword and sent it careening into several machines, sending up sparks upon impact.
“Gisbo, calm yourself, please,” Kalloway pleaded.
“NO! I’ve tried to be a good person, I really have! And I get NOTHING! NOTHING! And bastards like Malik, Ranto, and Thomson, these Holy Chosen, get it all! Why is IAM out to get me? Kinny gave her all and what did she get? Now she is out of commission! Maybe even forever! The hell did she or I ever do to him!? WHAT!? COME ON, BASTARD! ANSWER ME! DAMN YOU!” Gisbo screamed as he shook his fist to the sky, before slowly falling back against the wall and sliding down to the fetal position.
“And Falcon . . . Dad, where are you when I need you?” Gisbo asked aloud through sobs. Gisbo then heard several steps coming toward him, and felt warm arms wrap around him. He immediately smelled his aunt’s perfume and he sobbed loudly into her arms.
“It’s okay, honey, you have a right to be angry. Just let it out, you have to grieve,” Barb said, shushing him.
“Don’t . . . I, I don’t usually get like this, I’m stronger than this. Please, don’t tell anyone I’m crying like a damn baby, please,” Gisbo pleaded.
“Oh, honey, we wouldn’t think of it. And you are not a baby, you are a man. A good man! You cry because your heart is alive. You cry because it hurts you to feel injustices, and not just your own, but others’, too. You are going to help so many people one day, my dear Gisbo, and what power you have to do so! You have the uncanny ability to leap without looking. Your Dad and your Uncle both have that.
“You jumped in to save Kinny without any thought of yourself, and I, as well as your friends, am so proud of you for it. You saved her life. Your heart is fully alive; that is why you feel this pain, that is why you cry. Your heart is too full and scarred. Tears renew it, heal it, and ready it for the coming days. The day you don’t feel something, the day you don’t cry, is when you should be worried. Now sleep, just sleep, all will be better come morning. Calm yourself, honey, shush now and everything will be all right. I am so proud of you, and your dad and your mom would be, too. Sleep, my dear Gisbo, sleep,” Barb said in a such a soothing voice, Gisbo couldn’t help but obey and fell fast asleep.
When he awoke again, Gisbo was back in his room in his aunt and uncle’s house. He must have been out cold because he didn’t wake once. Having to urinate quite badly snapped him awake as he rushed to the cleansing room in the next room. No sooner had he flushed and cracked the door open than Phil was upon him. In one bound, Phil leapt and embraced Gisbo in a tight hug; so tight, Gisbo felt his shoulder begin to pop, and he screamed in pain. Phil immediately put him down and patted at his arm.
“There, there, I apologize greatly, dat I do, my Gizzy. Oh my, I saw everyting from the stands, EVERYTING! Aye, what a power you unleashed while you were out der savin’ your friend. It twas amazing! And I knew what it was even before you leapt. I felt it, I felt the power of Vadid flowin’ through ya! The Man-Phoenix! That was, until our dear ol’ Grandah hopped down upon ya from behind and sent ya to dreamland. What a bastard. Because o’ dat, I’m, well, bein’ punished . . .” Phil said in shame. Gisbo caught his breath and looked at him with concern.
“Trouble? Why the hell are you in trouble, Phil?” Gisbo asked.
“Oh, well, ‘cause maybe I, maybe just a bit, pounced on our dear ol’ Grandaddy once he hit you like he did . . .” Phil said sheepishly. Gisbo smiled broadly.
“You . . . you what?” Gisbo asked.
“I sort of . . . hit him in his noggin, not too hard, o’ course! But the old pecker skipped across the floor and a buncha guards took a hold o’ me. I’m sorry, I dunno what came over me, Gizzy. I suppose if anyone attacked me dear ol’ cousin like dat, I woulda jumped ‘em. Unfortunately, it just so happened to be Grandaddy Franky, Master of da castle, if ya hear me true,” Phil said. Gisbo laughed.
“Phil, I’m so happy you at least whacked him good for me. That old bastard,” Gisbo started. Then he noticed his Talon sword leaning against the wall. “Kalloway told me I’ll never be able to use that again because of what he did
to my shoulder.”
“Gizzy, I believe that may be the least of yer worries,” Phil said. Gisbo cocked his head and gave Phil an odd look.
“What do you mean?” Gisbo asked.
“Well, the one you solemly call arse face, he be trouble, Gizzy,” Phil stated.
“Believe me, I know, I . . .”
“No, I don’t tink ya do. Nobody believes me because, well, I’m Phil, but I sense tings, supernatural tings. I tain’t no Sybil, either; I be, I be sometin else. Sometin I can’t be explainin’ all too well. Me dah tried to explain it to me once, said I was, oh, what was dat word, harrowed? Hallored? Um . . .”
“Hallowed?” Gisbo suggested. Phil’s face lit up.
“Yessum, dat’s the word! Hallowed. So hallowed, in fact, I need ta drink to kill a few brain cells and keep me stable as everyone else. Maybe I drink a little too much, but dat is the reason. If I ever stopped drinkin’ an’ went sober, well, I may indeed lose meself. Crazy, I know, but it is de truth, Gizzy. But back to what I be sayin’. That arse face, you need to be careful o’ him, an’ I believe I’m the only one to sense what he truly be,” Phil said.
“What he be? What are you saying to me, Phil? I already know he is out of his damned mind an’ dangerous,” Gisbo started.
“Aye, dat he is, but it ain’t all his fault. Everybody has essential wavelengths, Gizzy. I ain’t met a soul out der similar to me own, but I have met someone who was quite similar to yours: yer grandfather, Vadid,” Phil said.
“I see,” Gisbo said.
“Aye, but dat was only because you drew from the same power. However, I saw someone a few days ago who nearly matched you in every way; same frequency, same wavelengths, even more so than Vadid, but came from something else, someplace darker, something opposite o’ the Phoenix, like a light shinin’ from a mirror,” Phil said. Gisbo began putting the pieces together. That power he felt from Malik in the arena and the green tinted fire.
“You mean . . . Malik, he’s . . .” Gisbo started, not able to say the words.