Renegade Rupture (7 page)

Kennis smiled, waved, and turned to walk away. Gisbo couldn’t help it; he stared at her, entranced. She really had changed, blossomed into a captivating woman over one summer. Was she really the same slightly overweight smarty pants from a few years ago? She was taller now, curvy, and top heavy. Her hair grew out in long blond locks just beyond the top half of her back. Gisbo felt gooseflesh and butterflies erupt all at once across his being, and for the first time since he arrived back at Heaven’s Shelter, when he wasn’t focused on intense training, his mind was clear and at peace.

“Whew, take a deep breath, Gisbo. What, what was that?” Gisbo said out loud. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulder. Gisbo turned to see Knob Brawlda.

“That, my friend, is no girl. That is what we call a woman. A busty blonde, big, tight, and curvy in all the right places,” Knob said, making an hourglass figure shape in the air with his hands. “Trust me, pal, you couldn’t handle something like that. Neither could I, hence why I just look from a distance and never touch. A guy’s got to know his limitations,” Knob said. Gisbo shoved him off.

“What the hell are you doing out here, Knob?” Gisbo asked.

“Hey, I live out here too, man. Besides, could you blame me for wanting that kind of view all the way home?” Knob asked, motioning to Kennis’s swaying behind as she finally cleared the trees.

“’Spose not,” Gisbo said.

“You should really stop talking to yourself. People are gonna start thinking you’re going crazy or something,” Knob said as he patted Gisbo on the back and made his way towards his own tree house.

“Hmph,” Gisbo muttered. He walked up the spiral staircase of his tree house and was greeted by an excited Fao, who licked him all over.

Still startled by the sense of sudden peace he felt around Kennis, a peace he never had around Nina, Gisbo sat down. In fact, ever since the Drakeness had infected him, all he felt was a misplaced anger around Nina, something he couldn’t quite point out, as if he sensed Malik’s presence. Gisbo felt rage build up in his chest again just thinking about her. He moved his thoughts to Kennis’s smile and was immediately at peace once again. Gisbo felt a natural smile stretch across his face, and with that, he decided to take advantage and lay down for an afternoon nap, dreaming of what could be.

Upon waking, Gisbo was greeted by Harpie, Rolce’s great golden eagle, pecking him between his eyes.

“Rolce, get your damn bird off me,” Gisbo said aloud.

“Harpie! Here, girl!” Rolce said, thrusting out his forearm. Harpie instinctively squawked and leaped in mid-flight off Gisbo’s headboard, but not before dropping a big bird turd on Gisbo’s forehead.

“Sorry, man, she tends to do that just before she flies,” Rolce said. Gisbo rolled out of his bed and grabbed Rolce’s pillow on the way down. He wiped the bird dropping all over the back of it.

“And when she lands, and when she eats, and when she breathes. All that bird does is crap!” Gisbo said, walking over to the fireplace where Rolce was seated, reading a book.

“Birds have a fast metabolism! She can’t help it! Can you, baby? Ooooh, that’s a good girl,” Rolce said, cooing as Harpie rubbed her head across Rolce’s chin, nuzzling him. “So, how are you doing? You’ve been sleeping for a while. Nina was asking about you.”

“I’m fine,” Gisbo said as he sat down across from him. Rolce closed his book and leaned forward.

“Do you wanna talk?” Rolce asked. Gisbo eyed him.

“Talk? What are you? A woman?” Gisbo asked, rising from his seat and making his way over to the icebox.

“Hey, I’m just worried about you, pal, that’s all,” Rolce said.

“Well, I assure you, I’m fine. My dad deals with it, your dad deals with it, and I will too,” Gisbo said as he rummaged through the fridge. Gisbo grabbed a beer and chugged it outright.

“Where did you get a beer? Gisbo!” Rolce said. Gisbo belched loudly and tossed the bottle in the trash.

“What? Are you the beer guard now? Last I checked, I’m of age,” Gisbo said as he made his way outside only to be met by Jackobi.

“Emergency meeting in three minutes for all Renegades. Moordin told me to get you two,” Jackobi said. At this, Rolce stood to his feet.

“I take it the lack of Knob’s trumpet blasts means this is a secret meeting?” Rolce asked. Jackobi nodded.

“Where?” Gisbo asked.

“Right here. Come on, let’s grab a seat outside. Sybil Honj and Shax should be sending out a Mind-Link any moment and it will be over within a second of our time. Any Strifes watching will be none the wiser,” Jackobi said.

“I suppose now would be the only good time to discuss any sort of strategy considering the festival tomorrow night and the announcement of the first event,” Rolce said.

“Hold on, festival? What festival?” Gisbo asked.

“The Elekai’ Festival always happens the day the tournament begins. You know, dinner, dancing, socializing,” Rolce said.

“Screw all that!” Gisbo said. “Well, except the dinner part,”

“Agreed,” Jackobi said.

“Come on, it’ll be fun! It’s an event that comes around once a generation!” Rolce said.

“Well, I’m not goin’,” Gisbo said.

“Unfortunately, gathering is mandatory for entry,” Jackobi said. “Believe me, I don’t like it either.”

“Plus, unlike last time, it isn’t tournament style. The tournament was bracketed single elimination last time. This time, it’s Event Style, and that means . . .” Rolce started, only to be interrupted as blackness washed over their vision, followed by a lit hand bursting through it. A moment later, Gisbo, Rolce, and Jackobi all stood within the courtyard of strength, at least a mental version of it, and Narroway was in a spotlight as he faced the crowd. It was good to not see any green within the crowd.

“. . . well, might as well let him explain,” Rolce said, folding his arms in anticipation.

“RENEGADES! Hear me well. Tomorrow the festival begins and I become a mere tournament official, but I shall see no grave faces! I shall see no idle stares! As we speak, green clad abominations are within our proud city, threatening our way of life, threatening the name of Renegade! The future of our city, of our world, lies within each and every one of you. You have been trained by the best. And with us is last tournament’s champion, trained by my father himself, FALCON VADID!” Narroway screamed. The crowd erupted with cheers. Gisbo had no idea where his dad was, but he couldn’t help but feel an ounce of pride. He began to feel excited as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“But that was then, and this is now. This tournament will be different, and my decision for Event Style did not come overnight, I promise you that. We are Renegades! We do not fear the coming storm; we embrace it! We claim it! We ride with the winds, and that is something the stone cold Strifes simply cannot do! This is not the end; this is the ushering in of a new era! A grand era with a new Renegade Chieftain to lead us! Victory is assured, my friends; never fear, but be ever watchful. Just like the last time, foul play is in order. The tournament doesn’t stop after each event. It is everlasting until the final bout. Watch your backs, watch each other’s backs. Watch your drinks, where you sleep, and especially watch anything clad in green. Now, down to the tournament itself. Then, I shall take questions.

“During the festival tomorrow, I will announce the first event. Immediately following it, one week will pass before it begins. That week must be spent wisely and cautiously. I will see no Renegade training alone, understood? This is why we have synergies in place. Now, I realize some of you may not know what an Event Style tournament is, so I will explain. One event will take place each week, in representation of the four elements. Every event will be different and test you all. Once all four events are completed, the team winner from each category will be chosen, and four representations from each team will take place in a Battle Royal for this band upon my forehead, and one choice: take over the mantle or pass it to one they deem worthy to lead us.

“More will be explained at the opening festival once I make my decision upon the first event, which, I guarantee, will favor us. I know each and every one of you. I know your skills and I will choose the best course of action. Now, questions?” Narroway asked. “Yes, Renegade Groggo?”

“What sort of food will be served at this festival?” Groggo asked. At this, everyone had a good laugh. “What? Hey! Don’t laugh! It’s a serious question!”

“That you will have to find out for yourself! Next! Yes, Bastio?” Narroway said. Crass’s father spoke loudly, to the point of yelling.

“Just what are we allowed to do in terms of sabotage?” Bastio asked. Everyone cheered at this. Narroway smiled.

“Anything that doesn’t get you caught! Next!” Narroway said. “Yes, Knob Brawlda?”

“Can I get the day off tomorrow?” Knob asked.

“No! Next? Yes, I see you there, go ahead, Whip Miles!” Narroway said.

“Obviously, if we win, the Strifes will attack us, and if we lose, well, what does happen if we lose?” Miles asked. “Hypothetically, of course.”

“A plan will be set in motion,” Narroway said.

“And you won’t tell us, right?” Whip asked.

“Of course not,” Narroway said.

“Ok, one more question. This secret treaty between you and Lamik, the one that kept them away from us all these years and kept them pent up in Glaknabrade City within the Naforian forests. At the tournament’s end, will the treaty be absolved?” Whip asked.

“A rather good question. Upon the passing of the King’s Band, yes, anything can happen,” Narroway said.

“So why don’t we just all pile up and stab these guys in their sleep tonight? Why wait for this stupid treaty to absolve and go through this tournament? Let’s just go kick some ass now!” Crass screamed and was met with many cheers.

“Because, you idiot, should the tournament be canceled, Narroway dies because he is blood bound to it! Keep your mouth shut and let the adults talk!” Glinda’s prissy voice easily carried over the crowd.

“I promise I take no offense to the comment, Crass. Believe me, the best minds of Heaven’s Shelter are at work on what to do in the aftermath. Anything can happen. The Strifes may not attack us and may return to Glaknabrade. I will not even discuss the possibility of them winning. It simply will not happen!

“Now, if you all have had your fill, I have one final thing to say. One final message while I still wear this King’s Band that once belonged to my father, Vadid the Valiant,” Narroway said. He took a deep breath and was on the verge of tears, but hid it well.

“We now lie on the threshold of the tide. I will not explain what would happen to this world should the Renegades fall. I have no long speech prepared or lesson to give. I believe that others will speak for me when my time as Renegade is done. All I wish to say is that it has been a tremendous honor to serve you in these times of peace, a well earned peace that may be shattered in these next few weeks. You all have so much power within you. Please be the action this world needs, not that it deserves. I believe in and love you all,” Narroway said, pausing and breathing hard.

“I . . . love you all so much. My brothers, my sisters. When the time comes, I know we will not fail. Good luck, and may IAM and the Phoenix go with you. Shax, Honj? Sign us off,” Narroway said. The image melted away and Gisbo found himself back on his front porch with Rolce and Jackobi. They looked at each other only once, and then sat in quiet contemplation.

“The end of an era . . .” Jackobi said.

“No, the beginning,” Rolce said, smiling.

Chapter Five:
War is Blind

That night, Gisbo tossed and turned, unable to sleep because of his long nap and getting re-acquainted with Rolce’s snoring. Gisbo cursed and rolled out of his bed. He tiptoed over a sleeping Fao and made his way to the front porch, slid into a wicker chair, and relaxed, taking in the end of the summer evening. The crickets chirped and the bullfrogs croaked and the fireflies flew all about, blinking on and off, signaling for mates.

The moon was high and crescent shaped, and the stars twinkled brilliantly, setting him somewhat at ease, until his thoughts began to wander again.

They’re hiding something from you,
the voice started.

“Not again . . .” Gisbo said, leaning forward as his forehead began to pang hotly.

Your friends, they’re afraid of you. They’ve seen what you will become,
the voice said.

“Damn it all! Shut up! Shut up!” Gisbo said, rising to his feet and pacing. He had an idea, anything to get him away from the current feeling. He lifted a ringed finger to the sky and ignited his essence.

“FAO!” Gisbo yelled, summoning his wolf and entering his inner world where all was right, all was calm, and all was peaceful. Except nothing was further from the truth . . .

Rather than the pleasant night sky, the cool air, the twinkling stars, and the full moon that usually graced the green pasture between the black forest, everything was twisted. The night sky was blood red, and rather than stars, fiery comets flew all about, crashing into places unknown deep within the forest. His subconscious was setting everything it touched afire. Gisbo looked about, unable to believe this was the same place he had just visited before the great battle at Flaria. He took a step forward and realized the grass was muddled with a sticky, black sludge.