by J. C. Fiske
“Oy! Gizzy! You and your pals come join in on the fun! Not everyday you get to destroy a city!” Phil said.
“Phil! We just . . . why are they?” Gisbo stammered.
“Don’t you get it, mate? We don’t want some culty-cult city! We want the proud Flarian city of old back! We got to destroy it to build anew! Too many bad memories about this place. Now come on! Let’s blast some bricks! Wooohoo!” Phil said as he grabbed a barrel of beer and hiked it up over one shoulder, guzzling it as he walked, and began punching everything that stood still.
“Quite a family you got there . . .” Crass said, planting a hand on Gisbo’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Gisbo said.
“Hey, sorry about your aunt. She is the most heroic woman I’ve ever met. Because of her, we live to see another day,” Crass said.
“Yeah,” Gisbo said as he slumped away.
“And, ugh, did you hear what happened to us in the church after the battle outside?” Crass asked. Gisbo looked at him curiously.
“Um, no?” Gisbo asked.
“I don’t know for certain, but I’m like 90% sure,” Crass said.
“Sure about what?” Gisbo asked.
“Well, when we finished up the fight outside, we ran into the church to come after you, but we were stopped by a squad of more cultists in black capes.”
“Huh? Me and Rolce went in there first. What are you saying?” Gisbo asked.
“I’m saying they weren’t waiting for you, they were waiting for us. They knew you were going down there and didn’t even try to stop you. In other words, I think this was a set-up,” Crass said.
Gisbo was silent.
“Oh, but it gets worse. That squad of guys, once we engaged them, I saw a few faces I recognized beneath their cloaks . . . and they wore green,” Crass said. Gisbo’s mind put together the pieces in a flash.
“Strifes?” Gisbo asked.
“That’s right. I know I saw a few of the scumbags that were out training with us in the rainforest this term,” Crass said.
“You know, they kind of just disappeared from the Flarians’ home when I got back. I never even thought to ask. Jeesh, can’t we get a break? You’re saying the Strifes were working with these people?” Gisbo asked.
“Worse, if they are working with them, then they are also working with Warlord Karm, which could mean . . .” Crass started.
“Enough, enough! Ugh, my head’s spinning after today. I gotta go get some air,” Gisbo said.
“We’re outside, man,” Crass said.
“I just mean by myself,” Gisbo said.
“What? You aren’t coming to break stuff?” Crass asked.
“Dude, give the kid some air, half his family is gone,” Shaved said.
“Oh, right,” Crass said. “Gisbo, I’m sorry, I didn’t . . .”
But Gisbo was already walking away.
He made his way to the outskirts of the city and he sat down to watch the rising sun, far away from the group, his back turned to them. Kennis looked out after him and began to walk toward him when someone grabbed her wrist. She turned to see Rake Lokin.
“Leave him be for a while, he’s been through a lot today. Let him have some peace,” Rake said.
“Oh, alright, you’re right. I just, I don’t know, I wanted to thank him.” She let out a deep sigh.
“If you want to thank him, be there when he needs you. That’s all,” Rake said.
Kennis stood in silence, watching him as Nina joined him and leaned on his side. For the first time, she cursed herself and the way she felt. Was it jealousy? Was it longing? She didn’t quite know.
“And he does need you. Believe me, he’ll need all of us,” Rake said.
“You think so? Then you, too, know what he is?” Kennis said.
“When he hit us with those blasts, I felt him, and it was then I knew. I believe everyone knows now,” Rake said.
“Yeah,” Kennis said.
“But I knew before that,” Rake said.
“You did?” Kennis asked.
“Yes,” Rake said vaguely.
“How?” Kennis asked.
“Because I was told by my mother, long ago, that the only person a man ever needed to follow was Vadid the Valiant. He was kind, he was righteous, and to not believe a word anyone said to disgrace his memory. Moreso, he was something more than just a man. He represented goodness, directness, righteousness, and kindness, above all else. My mother was that to me, and when she died, I lost it forever, but never forgot how it felt as my cold-hearted father raised me, if that’s what you would call it.” He let out a deep sigh.
“Either way, I trusted her words and, through the words of Vadid the Valiant, through the Renegades, I did my best to hang onto it, but I failed and became more like my father. That was, until recently, when I felt different somehow,” Rake said, looking out at Gisbo. “All because of him.”
“What did he say?” Kennis asked. Rake then looked at Kennis.
“He showed me kindess,” Rake said.
Kennis was silent.
“And, I don’t know what it is, but there is something about him that . . .” Rake started.
“What?” Kennis asked.
“He makes me want to follow him,” Rake said.
Kennis didn’t answer, but looked out at Gisbo and Nina again with a heavy breath.
“That’s how I knew he was the Man-Phoenix. He made me want to follow him. He reawakened a part of me I thought died a long time ago. He made me want to let go of who I was for who I am. And a person with the power to do that . . . should be followed,” Rake said. Kennis couldn’t help but smile, even if it was bittersweetly.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Nina said.
“You lost someone too,” Gisbo said.
“No, I gained something, freedom, knowing she’s gone. Believe me, I have no sadness for me, only sadness for you. I’m so sorry,” Nina said.
“Were you the reason she died?” Gisbo asked.
“No,” Nina said.
“Then what do you got to be sorry for?” Gisbo asked.
“I know, I just . . .” Nina started.
“He’s back again,” Gisbo said.
“Who?” Nina asked.
“And here I thought from the beginning, he was some high-up cultist with the Holy Chosen. No, he’s not part of their group at all. He has something to do with me, but,” Gisbo said. “You already know, you just don’t understand,” The goat man’s words floated through Gisbo’s mind.
“Gisbo, what, what are you talking about?” Nina asked.
“The goat man. The one who’s been watching me,” Gisbo said. Nina turned where he was facing, but saw nothing.
“Gisbo, there’s . . .” Nina started.
“HEY, NINA! I NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE WITH THE HEALS!” Rolce yelled.
“COMING!” Nina called. “I’ll be back. Cheer up, okay?” Nina said, kissing him on the cheek before she left him.
It seemed everything was back to normal now. The cultists were defeated and the remaining ones were captured. Gisbo’s family was safe, all except for one. Heaven’s Shelter was saved, along with all the Renegades inside it and out and, once again, Gisbo had a proper heritage to return to, if he so desired. So why then did he have a gut feeling in his stomach that this was just the beginning of an even bigger plot and that, somehow, the Man-Phoenix, with the powers of Drakeron running through him, was certainly not a good thing? Even as he thought this, he tied his bandana tighter to his forehead as an oily black fluid dripped down between his eyes and there, out in the distance, leaning against a fallen wall casually, arms folded, watching him intensly behind his mask, was the goat man, dressed in his blood-splattered cloak. Gisbo blinked once, and that was all it took. The goat man vanished.
Suddenly, without warning, Gisbo’s vision faded, and he saw the ominous door within his mind. He saw blackness slowly seep over it, along with everything else, poisoning all it touched. Then it reached the chains, the only thing
keeping the door at bay, keeping the memory no one needed recovered trapped. Within moments, like acid, the blackness corroded the chains and they fell to the ground with a clatter. Gisbo’s heart pounded and now, more than ever, he heard the screaming of the woman. He couldn’t take it anymore. Slowly, Gisbo closed his eyes and reached for the doorknob . . .