by J. C. Fiske
“You’re on empty, a risky move for an Elekai’ warrior. What would you have done if you missed?” Jackobi asked.
“Meh,” Gisbo said.
“Fair enough,” Jackobi said. Gisbo made his way to his aunt, ripped off a piece of his cloak, and wrapped it around her sides to stop the bleeding. He raised her head up and gently massaged her cheek. Finally, his aunt’s bright blue eyes fluttered open.
“Gisbo? Honey?” Barb spoke through rasped breath.
“Yeah, it’s me, everything’s going to be fine now. I’m going to get you out of here. That awful woman’s gone,” Gisbo said, smiling.
“I’m going to connect to my dad. I’ll see if the barrier’s dropped and if he can send Nina our way,” Rolce said. Barb coughed hoarsely.
“Hey, take it easy, just relax. Everything’s going to be fine now,” Gisbo said. His aunt wheezed and coughed as if trying to say something. Suddenly, Gisbo saw Rolce spin around, his face white.
“The barrier! It’s still up . . .” Rolce stammered out, breathing heavily, about to have a panic attack.
“That’s impossible!” Jackobi said.
“Quick! We got to get rid of these plops of Drakeness! I told you! They are causing the barrier to stay up!” Gisbo said. Rolce shook his head.
“No, that can’t be it! It means, it means Narsissa’s still alive somehow, but how?” Rolce said, glancing around with terror as if trying to find her. With what little strength she had, Gisbo’s aunt grabbed Gisbo by the cuff of his shirt and pulled him close.
“My . . . chest,” Barb said. Suddenly, tears dripped from her eyes. Gisbo looked down and saw the faintness of stitches leading down. Suddenly, the horrible reality crossed Gisbo’s mind.
“Rolce . . . what did you say about a beating heart before?” Gisbo asked.
“I, I said that, without a beating heart, the Drakeness piles couldn’t join back together. You eridaicated her body, her heart with it, so she’s gone,” Rolce said. Suddenly, Gisbo felt coldness rush through him. Terror absolutely gripped him as he looked down at his aunt, who trembled and cried.
“No . . .” Gisbo said, tears coming to his eyes.
Suddenly, the blobs of Drakeness began to move together across the floor, slowly forming into a big mass. Gisbo and his friends froze in place, unable to believe what they were seeing, as the last of the Drakeness splots joined back into one and took on the shape of a woman. Two white, orbless eyes peered out from her black, oozy head.
“That’s right! Oh, this feeling is overwelming, seeing pleasure of victory snatched away! Oh, this is too much! TOO MUCH!” Narsissa cackled. Suddenly, her essence exploded outward, slamming Rolce in the head and knocking him out cold with his depowered essence. The other side of the darkness took on a sharpened edge and sliced Jackobi in two, sending both halves of him skidding across the floor.
“That ends the distractions . . . now, for you . . .” Narsissa said as she trudged her way closer to Gisbo. Gisbo stood in place, a lost look to his eyes.
“That’s it, that look! It’s . . . delicious! The limit. There is nothing like seeing a warrior talk such a big game, fight so hard, spend it all, and then realize, finally, that it was to no avail, that he is worthless, helpless to do anything! It’s . . . orgasmic! And to see your mother’s eyes in that look, it’s just . . . too much, too much pleasure.”
Gisbo shook his head and stood frozen in place. He tried to hold back tears, tried his damnedest, but to no avail. A single tear dripped down his cheek.
“You get it now. You prayed to him, didn’t you? You prayed to your god, and what did he give you? Nothing. Look at what I’ve received. Everything! He let you down, boy. You understand it now, don’t you? Why I still live? You understand the reality. You know that, no matter what, for Heaven’s Shelter to be saved, your aunt must die. Because she now holds my beating heart within her chest!” Narsissa breathed a crackly, high-pitched, voice.
“This pleasure . . . oh, seeing this with my own eyes, I’ve waited so long . . .” Narsissa said. “Everything is happening as my Diety has told me, everything.”
“Gisbo . . .” Barb spoke in a whimpering voice. Just the tone of it caused Gisbo’s face to erupt with tears again as he looked her in the eyes.
“I . . .” Barb started.
“What? What could be the reason for this?” Gisbo screamed.
“Never mind it! I’ll rip my heart back from your chest as soon as I crush this boy’s head between my tendrils . . .” Narsissa said. Gisbo stood frozen, his blades in his hand, powerless without his essence, and unable to activate his Boon form.
“This was not what I expected of you, throwing in the towel. It’s almost not fun. I wanted you to fight till your last breath. Gnashing your teeth at me even as I pulled your arms and legs off. Don’t spoil this for me; fight me! I’ve waited too long!” Narsissa said as she backhanded him with a blow hardened from the Drakeness, sending Gisbo crashing to the ground. He saw his aunt choking for breath and saw his father, starved and nearly dead, laying on the ground.
“I’ve failed everyone . . . everyone is going to die because I failed. What is the point of it all? Why so much pain? IAM! Why do this to us? If I am the Man-Phoenix, then give me the power to beat her! IAM! Give me the blue fire like before!” Gisbo screamed.
“That’s it, shout to your Diety, shout to your phoenix! Shout to your God! See if he comes to your rescue. I love to hear the desperation, keep shouting!” Narsissa cackled.
“IAM! GIVE ME THE STRENGTH! PLEASE! I don’t care if my body dies from the power, just grant it to me! Let me save us! Save the only people capable of bringing a fight to Drakeron! PLEASE!” Gisbo shouted.
Silence.
“I prayed to my god, too, you know. You know what he told me? He told me to enjoy this gift, that I have earned it. He told me to rip you apart, piece by piece, and keep your eyes that are so much like your mother’s as a trophy in a jar so I may look at them always, and know that I, Narsissa, was the one that ended the line of the Man-Phoenix,” Narsissa said.
Gisbo planted his face into the ground and wept, listening to the sound of Narsissa’s cackling, when suddenly, it stopped. Gisbo felt a cold hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw a pair of ice blue eyes that he hadn’t seen in months. He looked into the face of his father, Falcon, who had managed to crawl his battered and starved body over to him.
Though his body was weak, his eyes looked as strong as the day he faced the Elekai’ Elite single-handedly, the day he stood tall against Purah with the highest of pains wracking at his very body and soul, and he could imagine the same eyes that pummeled Chieftain Lamik and hunted down all of the unholy twelve. The very eyes that looked upon a Drakeron himself, faced him and escaped with his life, now faced his own.
“Gisbo Falcon, what the hell are you doing?” Falcon asked plainly.
“What?” Gisbo asked.
“Exactly. Pick up your swords and fight. You are my son, you have what it takes to win . . .” Falcon said.
“I don’t . . .” Gisbo started.
“FALCON!” Narsissa screamed.
“And the first thing you should do is slice that tongue of hers off, if you can find it. My head’s killing me and I can already hear her nagging from days past . . .” Falcon said.
“Dad . . .” Gisbo said.
“I’m sorry for leaving like I did. You were all I thought about, son, before this predicament. Now go, kick her ass,” Falcon said, smiling as he slumped to the ground. With a recharged vigor, Gisbo rose to his feet. Narsissa shook her head.
“That man . . . is nothing short of amazing,” Narsissa said.
“Essence or not, that man’s blood flows through me, and it hates everything about you! But what’s even worse for you, the blood of my mother flows through me, too, and she hates the very ground you walk on. What chance do you think you have of beating me?” Gisbo asked, Tantos raised as he walked forward.
“You sound as if you could win,” Narsissa said
.
“Yup, I’m sure of it . . .” Gisbo said as he picked something off the ground and put it in his pocket.
“What have you got there?” Narsissa asked.
“An insurance policy. You don’t need to worry,” Gisbo said.
“My vial of Drakeness? You wish to inject yourself with it, to use its power to save your friends and family? Is that so?” Narsissa asked. Gisbo looked over at his father, who was still out cold, as he pondered the idea.
“You could most certainly defeat me if you did make that decision. Would you be willing to deal with the consequences? Oh my . . . so gutsy of you!” Narsissa taunted. “But . . . you don’t have the balls . . .”
“Shut up,” Gisbo said.
“Do it, then, do it! You could save everybody . . . without it, you’re doomed. Are you that selfish, Man-Phoenix?” Narsissa yelled.
Gisbo took a deep breath. What choice did he have? He would certainly die, and if he died, then who was left to fight her off? With such a power boost, he could fight her for days on end, he was sure of it. By then, more than enough help would arrive. At least, he thought this way initially . . .
Then the voice returned to his head, the dark voice made of honey and razorblades. The voice of the Dragon, the voice of Appolyon. It beckoned him to do it, to use its dark power, and, with it, he could save his friends. Gisbo gritted his teeth.
“I don’t do it for you, I do it for me! For my friends and all I hold dear! If my father can deal with it, then so can I!” Gisbo said. Without another second of hesitation, Gisbo plunged the needle into his forearm. The Narsissa blob was silent for a moment before speaking.
“The sins of the father . . . come full circle. It is done,” Narsissa said. Gisbo was about to respond until Narsissa fired two thundering tentacles at him. Gisbo deflected each one with his swords. Narsissa didn’t let up as she hammered him, and still Gisbo fought on, deflecting each strike as he moved closer and closer to her. Finally, he was within swinging range and let her have it, slicing up every part of her until she fell apart into pieces. Gisbo stood, hunched over, completely spent, when two shots of Drakeness clocked him in the jaw and stomach, toppling him over. Narsissa hovered over him.
“It’s over, boy . . . either way, I win,” Narsissa said, when suddenly a blast of fire engulfed her, sending Narsissa scuttling away, screaming.
“What? Who, who are you?” Narsissa asked.
Frank McCarley strutted toward her, an extra large Talon sword draped across his shoulder as he fired blast after blast of fire, causing Narsissa to scream in agony and drip uncontrollably.
“NO! NO! You’re running everything! This, this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen! DIE, BOY PHOENIX! DIE!” Narsissa squealed as she fired every single available tendril straight at Gisbo so fast he didn’t have time to react. There were dozens of splongey, shunking noises, followed by a burst of blood as Frank McCarley intercepted the tendrils,
With his own body.
“No . . .” Gisbo mouthed. Frank McCarley took one look back at his grandson, trying to find words, anything to say in his final moment, but none came. Instead, he smiled, and tears, real twinkling tears poured down from his eyes as he fell to the ground, dead.
“NO!” Gisbo screamed, and suddenly, the calvary arrived.
“Gisbo! You’re alright!” Nina screamed as she hopped off her lion and embraced him in the biggest hug ever.
“Hey! Quick, all Flarians go over and keep lady much down!” A Flarian yelled.
“That thing is . . . yuck . . .” Grandfield said.
“Just go! Quick!” Knob yelled.
“Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Grandfield said as Knob, Glinda, and the rest all rushed at Narsissa, blasting fire all the way and keeping her body in a constant state of restoration, making her unable to attack, only scream.
“He, he saved me . . . after all that,” Gisbo stammered as he watched Narsissa burn.
“How is everyone doing? None of you are hurt?” Nina asked.
“Well, I lost an eye, but not that that matters . . . See?” Whip said as he put a finger in his empty socket and rolled it all about inside.
“WHIP! STOP THAT! You’ll get it infected!” Kennis screamed.
“Oh, hush up. Long as Nina’s here, I’ll be all right. If it weren’t for her out there, Gizzy, after your wolves were gone, I don’t think we woulda made it out of there. You got yourself a keeper there, man. I’m jealous. I owe ya one, by the way. We need to talk,” Whip said.
Douglas, Foxblade, and a small squad of Flarian Renegades made their way down the stairs, led by none other then Phil McCarley, who wore a giant, steel-plated mask over his head that waddled back and forth atop his head like a giant bucket, causing him to trip.
“Gizzy! Oy! Check out me new hat! Gift of Goryelrac! Nice fellah all in all, once he was dead!” Phil yelled with a wave.
“Gisbo!” Douglas cried. He then turned and saw his wife, Barb, upon the floor. “Barbie! Barbie! You’re alright!”
Gisbo’s heart felt crushed. Then Barb explained to him what had happened. Doug’s face lost all its color.
Doug was silent. Foxblade and Phil stood somberly beside him.
“I . . .” Doug said, tears streaming down his face.
“I’m going to take my own life, Doug,” Barb said, crying softly. Doug grabbed her hand and held it.
“You can’t leave me, you can’t leave us,” Doug said. “I’m . . . nothing without you.”
“My life to save hundreds? Hundreds of the greatest people in this world? I’ll make that choice today, tomorrow, and the next day. Boys, my boys, my men, come here,” Barb said.
“Phil, my son, take that ridiculous garb off your head so I can see your face one last time,” Barb said. Phil took his mask off and knelt beside his mom.
“Mom . . .” Phil said, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Son . . . I love you. Because of you, I’ve been what I’ve always wanted to be. A mother, just a mom. That’s all I’ve ever wanted out of my life. And thank goodness you could never get out on your own; it just allowed me to be a mother longer than the average one. I love you, Philly,” Barb said, smiling as she gave Phil a kiss.
“And you . . . Gisbo, my dear, son of my dearest and best friend. I made the promise I would do all I can to keep you safe, no matter what. I can keep that promise now. Your mother would be so proud seeing not the boy that stands before me, but the man. You’ve grown so handsome, too. You’ll be a heartbreaker, like your father. I can see it! And you’ve allowed me to be an auntie, another dream of mine. I love you, Gisbo, and I’ve enjoyed catching up with you,” Barb said, giving Gisbo a kiss.
“My loving husband, kiss me, one last time. Bring me back to the first starry night, when you nervously asked me out on that walk, when you finally built up the courage after having one too many,” Barb asked.
“It was all Gisbo’s mom’s idea. Without her, I’d never have, never have.” Douglas stopped and, with tears streaming down his face, embraced his wife and leaned in for one final, passionate kiss. Upon pulling away, Barb was not crying.
“I love you so much. I will see you again and, because of you, you’ve given me all I’ve ever wanted out of my life. Because of you, all my dreams have come true,” Barb said and they leaned in again for a kiss and held each other. Upon pulling away, she looked at Foxblade.
“How, how should I do this? I know there isn’t much time,” Barb said. Foxblade stepped forward.
“I have an herb that will null all pain sensors within your body. The heart must be pierced. It is the only way. And you won’t feel a thing,” Foxblade said.
“I, alright, Gisbo, may I have your . . . you know, I’d rather not say the word,” Barb said. Gisbo unsheathed his Tanto and handed it to her. Barb reached out and grabbed it, but Gisbo did not let go.
“It’s okay . . . really, honey, I’m going to a far better place than here. Life is meant to be temporary, that’s why it en
ds. Now, let me go,” Barb said. Reluctantly, Gisbo let go of the blade.
“I love you all. Promise me, every one of you, that you will fight this sickness, this, Drakeness, till the very end. Promise me,” Barb said.
Gisbo looked away, but Foxblade turned Gisbo’s head back.
“No, do not dishonor her sacrifice. Watch with open eyes and never forget this. Never forget the enemy we face, that we must destroy to prevent future innocent lives like your aunt’s from being lost,” Foxblade said. “Barb, before you do this, just know this. The strongest and bravest women I’ve ever encountered in my life have never been loud, never been obnoxious, and never have been confrontational. Their ability to embrace their hearts, their kindness, and their love fully and share them is the bravest thing a person could do. You’ve done what I could never do and, as far as I’m concerned, you’re the bravest and strongest person alive.”
“Thank you, thank you all,” Barb said. “And Gisbo, just like your grandfather, I know that you will one day save us all . . .”
There was shunk noise, and the mother, wife, and aunt of three proud men, Barb McCarley, faded from the earth with a smile upon her face.
Upon Barb’s death, Narsissa faded away, not screaming, but laughing all the while. That laughing was what most troubled Gisbo, almost as if she had truly won instead of lost, as if she knew something Gisbo didn’t.
The battle was over, and the proud warriors all faced the morning sunrise over a bright new day, a new tomorrow. Purple and radiant it came, and for the first time in almost a century, the Flarians stood in their homeland, once again in their hands. Many of them began crying at the sight of it, their sense of honor restored. Gisbo couldn’t help but feel proud, as well. And then . . . something happened Gisbo did not expect . . .
“Alright men! Drinks at the ready! Blasts at the hilt! Let’s bring down this hell hole!” Grandfield’s Uncle Morrie screamed.
“Wait, what? What are they doing?” Rolce asked with dismay as the Flarians hooted and hollered as they raided the local pub that once harbored Karm’s men, busted down the doors, opened kegs of beer, mead, and cider, and began to consume and blast the buildings of Sand Lake City to smithereens.