by J. C. Fiske
“Won’t the Druids help us?” Gisbo asked.
“Not a chance, Gisbo. They are peaceful isolationists. If something doesn’t attack them directly, they stay out of it. They train only to protect themselves from an attack,” Crass said.
“But this will affect them at some point if Drakearon returns . . .” Gisbo said.
“Well, you’re welcome to try, but I already know the answer. They are as stubborn as trees,” Crass said. “And their ideology is about as thick,” Crass looked at Rolce.
“Please, get yourself out of that ridiculous get up. You are coming with us,” Foxblade said.
“But . . .” Rolce stammered. Foxblade eyed him coldly and Rolce, with much grumbling, strutted out of the hut and back to his own dwelling to change.
“So, in two weeks, huh? Gisbo, this may not mean much coming from me, but I really hope your dad makes it. He’s a good guy,” Knob said, stretching out a hand. Gisbo shook it.
“Thanks, man,” Gisbo said.
“The guy’s tough as nails, he’ll be fine,” Crass said. “But man, I can’t wait to hack up those robed bastards. Being a part of all that mess gets my blood boiling. It ain’t right!” Crass said.
“Indeed, find your resolve in justice, Crass. It will aid you. Now, train hard, young Renegades. I call you that now because, in my eyes, you are. I will be back and, Niffin, I have a special friend of mine for you to train under. Seek out Joslin Valtos and tell him I sent you to train under him. If anyone here can put you through the paces a Shininja should be put through, it’s her,” Foxblade said.
“I will, sir,” Niffin said.
“Good luck, everyone. Gisbo, let’s go,” Foxblade said. Gisbo said goodbye to his friends and they went to find Rolce. The moment they got to the larger of the huts, the Chieftain’s quarters as they were called, Rolce came running out to meet them, clad in his Renegara Nazarite attire once again.
“Much better. Where is he?” Foxblade asked. Rolce scratched at the back of his head nervously.
“I . . . uhm, well, Uncle Molder doesn’t want to see you,” Rolce said. Foxblade’s eyebrow cocked up.
“Is that so?” Foxblade said.
“Yes, and he said there is no way he is allowing me to go with you. What should I do?” Rolce asked.
“I want you to deliver a message for me, Rolce, can you do that?” Foxblade asked, clearly perturbed. Rolce nodded. Foxblade leaned down and whispered in Rolce’s ear. Gisbo noticed that Rolce’s face suddenly went pale, then white with a disgusted look. Foxblade stood back up to full height and folded his arms.
“I . . . I can’t tell him that,” Rolce said.
“Do it, or I’ll walk in there and say it,” Foxblade said.
“I . . . oh man,” Rolce said. He hunched his large shoulders like a depressed gorilla and walked through the hut to deliver the message. There was silence for a moment, like the coming before the storm. Suddenly, there was an explosion of noise, a roar of anger that came deep within the hut.
“WHAT!?!?!?” Chieftain Molder screamed. Suddenly, what seemed like the sound of a rampaging rhino coming at them from the hut appeared. Mass arguing ensued inside and finally, Chief Molder broke through the doorway, dragging three of his subordinates behind him. “YOU!” Chief Molder said while pointing a huge, accusing finger. Gisbo elbowed Rolce, who walked out of the hut looking rather beside himself.
“Pointing runs in the family, huh?” Gisbo asked. “And . . . uh, what exactly did Foxblade say?”
“I’d rather not repeat it,” Rolce said squeamishly. Foxblade stood unabashed with his arms folded, doing his best to ignore the pain in his back from standing up straight. Molder looked like a raging bull with his nostrils flared open. His men still held onto him and continued to try to bandage him up.
“So, too afraid to say that to my face? So you send a boy to say it, huh? HUH!?” Molder yelled.
“I would gladly say it again if you’d like. Now, I am taking Rolce with me. He is greatly needed,” Foxblade said.
“He is not going anywhere with you! He is my nephew and he stays here with me until Moordin’s return!” Molder said.
“Moordin will not be returning here,” Foxblade said. Molder’s anger simmered as he looked at Foxblade with a confused stare. Foxblade quickly informed him of everything that was happening.
“Well, I am sorry. We respect the Renegades, but if your goal was to find men for your cause, we cannot help,” Molder said, arms folded.
“I already figured as much, but, should we fail and Drakearon returns, I’m sure your Drippie ideals will keep you safe from harm,” Foxblade said. Molder’s eyes popped.
“Don’t look at me like that again, Molder, unless you wish me to embarrass you in front of your entire village. What do you say?” Foxblade challenged. At that point, they were causing a scene, and the villagers were looking on quietly with devoted interest.
“I, ugh, fine, take the boy. If Drakearon comes, then he comes; he is just a part of the circle, after all. Whatever happens, happens,” Molder finalized. Foxblade rolled his eyes.
“I don’t have time to expose the holes in such logic. I will take my leave. Just hope we win, for your sake,” Foxblade said.
“We are all a part of nature. If nature survives, even a single flower, then there is no loss,” Molder said.
“You’re delusional if you think the value of a plant weighs equally to that of a human life. You cannot toss intelligent life in with life in general. I repeat my statement, you Drippies, all of you, need your heads checked. Come, boys, we’re leaving,” Foxblade said. He turned to go and both boys followed willingly, feeling the eyes of the villagers upon them.
“Your intolerance is laughable, Foxblade,” Molder said.
“So is your ability to open your mind,” Foxblade said.
“Really? Not everyone believes in a divine being that gives us all divine purpose. We are what nature made of us. Nature came to be on its own; nature will end on its own in time. Your ignorant theories are not welcome here. Everyone within this village sees things my way. Explain that!” Molder demanded.
“Idiocy is contagious,” Foxblade fired back.
“One day I’ll kill you, watch your back,” Molder said.
“I’ll kill a squirrel today in your honor,” Foxblade said.
“Say that again!” Molder fired back.
“And remember, I’m still a lifeform. To kill me would go against everything you believe,” Foxblade said. “Oh, and one more thing, Molder, stop with this wrestling foolishness. Teach the remaining Naforian Renegades how to survive, give them weapons. You know how to defend yourselves; you are expert survivalists. Show them something useful. They are fighting with us. If you want to see them again, I suggest you prepare them. I will be back in two weeks,”
“Agreed, their destiny is their own. They must find their own place in the circle. And Foxblade, when you return, we will settle the score,” Molder said.
“If that came from anyone else, I would take it with more worth,” Foxblade said. This time, they walked from the village, ignoring the ranting of Molder behind them, who was, at this point, just shouting at the air. They descended the stairs and walked through the rainforest in silence.
“So, did you do that to him?” Rolce finally asked.
“Yes,” Foxblade said. Rolce looked at Gisbo.
“Whoa . . .” Rolce said. They had finally reached the special tree that had the hidden Flarian teleporter upon its surface. Foxblade pulled Rolce aside to talk to him directly.
“Now, Rolce, stop for a moment, we need to talk about your place in all of this. You are instrumental to victory or defeat, so listen well,” Foxblade said.
“I, yeah, you got it. What do you need from me?” Rolce asked.
“Your Sybil powers, how far along have they evolved?” Foxblade asked.
“I, well, haven’t been focusing on my Sybil abilities, only my Naforian ones while I am here, but I have been practicing a little bit,” Rolce said.
“As long as I have met them before, then yes. I can’t contact someone I don’t know, though. But, why?” Rolce asked.
“Your Sybil powers are a secret no longer. Survival of the Renegades and our home trumps it. Find a quiet place and concentrate. Message all your available friends, tell them what has happened to their home and their Class Masters. We need them to fight and we need them to train their hardest in these next two weeks. Every second counts. Can you do this for me?” Foxblade asked.
“Yes. It takes a lot out of me, though,” Rolce said.
“How long would it take to get in touch with everyone?” Foxblade asked.
“I’d say about a full night and an hour to sleep in between each message. I wish I knew this was going to happen, I would have prepared further. I’ve had no dreams on this; shouldn’t I have forseen it?” Rolce asked.
“Sybil Honj should have forseen it, too, if that were the case. IAM doesn’t wish to show us everything. If he did, we would be nothing more than puppets without free will. He gives us the tools we need to carry out his purpose. I believe he feels we can do this based on what we have. But, no time to waste, we will find you a quiet cave to spend the night in upon returning to Flaria. When that mission is complete, I have another for you. Now come, grab Gisbo’s shoulder and we will be off,” Foxblade said. Rolce did as he was told and together, after several jumps, they made it back to the caves of Flaria.
“I . . .” Rolce started when suddenly he upchucked everywhere.
“Same thing happened to me. Don’t worry, your virginity’s lost now. It won’t have the same effect again,” Gisbo said with an encouraging smile. Rolce wiped off his mouth.
“Ugh, well, that’s good news. Okay, I think I am going to contact Kinny first. If I am going to spill my secret, she should be the first to know.” Rolce said. Suddenly, Gisbo felt a twisted knot in his stomach. Flashbacks of Malik’s face, twisted in pleasure as he pummeled her unconscious form over and over again, sent a fresh tingle of rage throughout his body.
“Gisbo? Are you alright?” Rolce asked.
“Rolce, I didn’t want to be the one to have to tell you this,” Gisbo said as he sat upon a rock and let out a deep breath.
“Tell me what?” Rolce asked, his face turning pale with worry. Gisbo sat for a very long minute without saying a word and looking down at the stone floor.
“Gisbo? What is it? You can tell me,” Rolce said. Gisbo let out a shaky sigh as he tried to hold back tears. Even as he began his explanation, he did not once meet Rolce’s eyes. He explained everything in detail the best he could and Rolce’s face went even paler as he continued, especially upon realizing Kinny and her mom had returned to Heaven’s Shelter and they, too, were now trapped within. Finally, it seemed as if even his feet could not take anymore as he slumped atop a rock with a grim stare. A few moments passed and neither said anything.
“I am sorry for you, Rolce. But I’m afraid we don’t have time to grieve at the moment. Cling to the hope that one day Kinny will wake again. That can be your resolve. It is all we can do. And for that day to happen, we need to save Heaven’s Shelter,” Foxblade said. He walked forward and met Rolce’s eyes and spoke in a deep, powerful voice.
“You have the power to save her, to save all of us! She is trapped within Heaven’s Shelter. You must rise above this sorrow. You must grasp your resolve, right now, in this moment before you lose it. One day, Rolce, both you and Gisbo will surpass me. You both are already much more powerful than I was at your age, but that day will not come if Heaven’s Shelter falls.
“Rise above it, grasp the resolve to save your love, and you will save everyone. Don’t forget her face, Rolce, let her be your guide, let her be your strength. Let nothing stand in your way. Narroway warned all of you upon your initiation that more strength and more courage will be needed than ever before. Our time is past. It is time for your generation to rise, to fight, and fight you will, Rolce. Are you ready, my friend, to do what is necessary?” Foxblade said, outstretching a hand. At this point, Rolce was breathing heavily and slowly. Gisbo saw the same look he had back in the cave when he faced off against his own father just a year before spread like a fire. Suddenly, Rolce’s eyes snapped up, fire in his eyes. He grasped Foxblade’s hand and, with one thrust, he was back on his feet.
“I’m ready,” Rolce said.
“I have utmost faith in you. You are truly your father’s son,” Foxblade said.
“One night and I’ll be done,” Rolce said.
“Good. In two weeks, have everyone meet here, on the crest of this beach. Have them gather anyone they can to aid us in this battle. Explain everything in detail about what happened and what is at stake. But first, we need you to contact someone for us,” Foxblade said.
“Who? I can’t contact anyone I haven’t met before,” Rolce said. Foxblade rubbed at his chin.
“Hmph, it seems your powers aren’t as far along yet as your father’s. Okay, contact your father and Sybil Honj within Heaven’s Shelter. Explain to them we have a plan and to have them help you gather forces to our cause. Tell them to arrive exactly two weeks from today on this very shoreline. Understand?” Foxblade said.
“Yes, I got it,” Rolce said.
“And tell them to contact a girl by the name of Nina; have Honj or Shax search my mind for the details of her appearance and find her. We need to rendevous with her right away. Do this before you do anything else. Understood?” Foxblade said.
“Yes, sir,” Rolce said.
“I am no longer your superior, Rolce. We are now brothers in arms. We will return to you, Rolce, after tonight. Good luck, my brother,” Foxblade said, outstretching his hand once more. Rolce took it and shook it hard, turned and walked back to the cave and sat with his legs crossed, hands pressed against his knees. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Gisbo smiled at his friend.
“Good luck, buddy . . .” Gisbo mumbled under his breath. He then turned to face Foxblade. “So, what now?”
“We wait for a message from Shax or Honj and get the whereabouts of Nina’s location,” Foxblade said.
“Alright. With any luck, this guy she was talking about has already gathered a lot of people for us,” Gisbo said.
“They will not be warriors, but anything at this point will be helpful. I just hope I . . .” Foxblade started when suddenly his pupils flashed white for just a moment and his whole body froze. Then he was back to normal.
“That was fast,” Gisbo said.
“It always is. Shax has already spoken with her. I know the way. Took me a while to get a clear path with all these caves looking so similar, but with my time with Shax, he showed me the fastest route. There is a special cave toward the middle of the desert. Within it, there is an abandonded shelter where the warriors of Flaria hid their wives and children during the war here,” Foxblade said. He got up from his seated postion and turned to Gisbo. “Come, we leave now.”
Chapter Seventeen: Prepare For War
After an hour long walk in the blazing sun, Gisbo and Foxblade had well enough. Just when neither of them could take it anymore, Foxblade stopped.
“We’ve arrived,” Foxblade said. It looked just like any other cave in the desert. How Foxblade could know his way around such a place, Gisbo had no idea. He was lost the moment they moved ten caves down from Rolce’s location. They walked inside and, immediately, Gisbo was thankful for the dewy, sandless air within the cave. All was dark until Foxblade ignited one of his daggers to provide a yellow glow. Even so, all they saw was the back of the cave wall. A dead end.
“You sure this is the right one?” Gisbo asked. Foxblade didn’t respond. He only walked to the back of the cave and felt along the wall. Nothing happened. He motioned for Gisbo to do the same. When Gisbo touched the back wall, there was a red glow and he heard a click. Suddenly, the wall split in two, revealing a dark, spirale
d staircase in its wake. Foxblade smiled and they went down the stairs carefully. As they made their way down, they saw a great lighted room at the end. Before they reached it, Gisbo felt a vice wrap around his neck. It was a strength he had never felt before. He was totally helpless, but it was only a moment until he heard a familiar voice.
“Cousin Gizzy?” Phil asked. The pressure was immediately gone and Gisbo gasped for breath and felt woozy as sparkles danced in front of his eyes.
“No, no! No passin’ out on me, good cousin! Hey now!” Phil gave what he thought was a friendly slap to Gisbo’s face to snap him out of his daze. It worked, but sent Gisbo crashing to the floor and tumbling down the stairs.
“Ugh,” was all Gisbo could mutter as he landed and stared at the ceiling of the well-lit room. Suddenly, numerous faces appeared over him, looking down curiously. He was about to say something when he felt himself being lifted up into a giant hug by Phil as if he were weightless.
“Cousin Gizzy! It tis you! It tis you!” Phil said as he finally let Gisbo go.
“Happy . . . to see you . . . too . . .” Gisbo grunted through bated breath. Now that the fuzziness of his vision had fallen away, Gisbo managed to take in his surroundings. It was a well-lit catacomb, filled with what seemed like tunnel after tunnel. Dozens upon dozens of kids Gisbo’s age, as well as boys and girls Phil’s age, were scattered all about, sharpening weapons, fitting others with armor. If Gisbo didn’t know any better, he’d say they were preparing for war.
“Phil, what is this place?” Gisbo asked.
“Welcome to me secret mission, Gizzy! Operation Sack Sand Lake!” Phil said proudly.
“I . . . so you knew. You knew what was going to happen and you started to prepare?” Gisbo asked.
“Not exactly, mate. You see, well, something’s funny in my head, Gizzy. Very funny. And well, apparently, I do a lot of odd stuff in me sleep. Like, start up resistances,” Phil exclaimed.
“You are the one, then? The hallowed one Nina spoke of?” Foxblade asked. He then walked around Phil, eyeing him, observing.