Read Renegade Reborn Online

Authors: J. C. Fiske

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Teen & Young Adult, #Sword & Sorcery

Renegade Reborn (14 page)

BOOK: Renegade Reborn
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The Goat Man studied Malik’s face with utmost scrutiny. A mistimed blink, perspiration, a facial tick . . . if such was revealed, he wasn’t ready, but Malik revealed nothing, remained eye contact, and answered with haste.

“It changes nothing. I will take his life, only after I make him feel my pain, and when it is finished, I will toss his remains off the same cliff Nina ended her life.” Malik said, his eyes, for the first time in years, clear and focused. Under his mask, the Goat Man smiled.

“Then, my child, you truly are ready. Now, listen closely, obey, and I shall give you the desires of your heart . . .” The Goat Man said.

 

Chapter Six: Enter the Man-Phoenix

 

Stop this foolishness, Drakearon had nothing to do with your friend’s death, or the destruction of your home, you did that. You, YOU, YOU!

“SHUTUP!” Gisbo screamed.

You. Can’t. Win
.

“I can’t win,” Gisbo stammered.


You’ve failed.

“I, I’ve failed . . .” Gisbo muttered.

Leave this place, return to the bottle. Return to peace . . .

“NO!” Gisbo screamed, silencing the doubt in his mind.

Gisbo charged into the blue light and again The Drakeness boiled within him, bubbling out through the cuts in his skin like a bubbling crude.

“One foot, at a time, one foot at a time . . . I . . . I . . .” Gisbo sputtered, when his old shoulder injury suddenly came back to say hello. He let out an unbridled scream of pain and collapsed onto one knee. It felt as if someone had kept a steel dagger in the freezer over night, then, twisted it into the meat of his right shoulder. Fighting through the pain, Gisbo gritted his teeth, too hard, and felt a molar crack in the back of his mouth, as the top tooth stabbed into the exposed nerve.

The pain was transcendent.

Move, own the pain, make it yours! Take every bit of it!
Gisbo ordered himself.

He was forced to crawl now, but he was at least moving. It felt as if he was wafting through a powerful river, going upstream. He knew there was a limit for everyone, knew there was a point where . . .

Never accept your limitations! Crawl! Crawl!
Gisbo ordered himself.

He managed three more lurches forward, until his body just wouldn’t move anymore. He fell back and tumbled down the hill, rolling back to the bottom where he began.

Gisbo lay on his back now, wheezing, coughing up thick, black, oily mucus, which forced him to roll over to one side and puke until he was dry heaving. Once he had his fill, he managed to roll back over and look up at the sky, breathing hard, and cursing. He heard Fao barking for him to get back up. He tried, expecting a spitfire of pain, but strangely, felt nothing. It had finally happened. His brain had decided to stop sending signals to his body, and that meant one thing . . .

Death.

Whether he had wanted it or not death was coming. He had come so far, given it his all, but still, it wasn’t enough.


Why? Why am I doing this to myself? What’s the point? ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU!” Gisbo yelled, surprised he was able to speak.

There was no answer.

“Figures, I . . .” Gisbo started.


Why?”
The voice asked.

“Why, what?” Gisbo answered.


Why do you wish to climb this hill and see what lies above?”
The voice asked.

“I don’t know.” Gisbo said.


Exactly.”
The voice said. Gisbo thought on that for a moment, but couldn’t come up with a reply, so the voice gave him one.


You don’t even know who you are, what you’re supposed to do. How then, will you reach anything, let alone the top of this hill?”
The voice asked plainly.

“Who are you?” Gisbo asked.


Who are you?”
The voice asked.

“Stop it, please, just stop, and tell me who you are!” Gisbo asked.


If you wish to understand who I am, you must first understand yourself. There was a time, I remember, when you lived with purpose. Every step, every stride, every breath, every beat of your heart flowed seamless with your dreams. Then, the worst thing for a dreamer happened. Your dreams, they came true, only to be taken away . . .”

Gisbo couldn’t help it. Kennis’ face appeared in his mind for probably the millionth time. He tried to fight it, but realized, for the first time, he didn’t want to. Her face, at this moment, was comforting, like a beacon in a storm.


Remember, Gisbo. Remember who you are . . . the light around you; it doesn’t reject you because you’re unworthy. No, it rejects you because you fight it. You’ve been fighting against the light your whole life, keeping it down, afraid to shine, holding yourself back in case things don’t work out. It’s time you poured yourself fully into something, with all your heart. Remember, Destiny calls and win or lose, it is not how you fight but how you choose . . .”

That phrase from the poem he used to read over and again, when all he had were his dreams, dreams that had kept him believing, but more than that, had kept him alive . . . hearing it sent shivers across his body as something moved within him, shifted . . . a memory of a day in the rain . . .

 


My boy, you are at a pinnacle point in your life, right now, where your dreams are called into question. Unfortunately, the average person gives up when the going gets tough and instead, accepts a mediocre existence. Life, as we get older, has a nice way of snuffing out who we really are. It’s only the strong that doesn’t let it hinder them. Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy. In fact, it requires all that you are,”

 

“Dad . . . oh, Dad . . .” Gisbo felt the corner of his eyes moisten, could picture him patting his pockets for his speeches. There was no bottle to halt the memories now, and up they came from the deepest, darkest parts of him . . .

 


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 . . . Auntie Barb . . .” Gisbo stammered, suddenly for the first time in three years, feeling a single tear drip down his face. He was remembering everything. “How, how could I forget such, such . . .”

 


Life, as you get older, has a nice way of snuffing out who you truly are. Memories, stories, they exist only to remind you of the way your heart once beat, and how to return to it,”

 

“It . . . it’s all coming back. The Renegade training, it was all
for
something . . .” Gisbo said, looking down at Fao, his most loyal friend, freeing yet another vision of his past . . .

 


Fao, I want you to do something for me,” Gisbo said.


Anything,” Fao said.


I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and, for me, that’s not saying much. I mean, look at me. When it came to school, I was practically mentally retarded. I know there are others out there like me now and, for them, I want to prove what you just said. I have to make it, I have to become strong, for them. I want to be an example for all the rejects, the losers, the outcasts. I want to show them all that natural talent is a load of crap. With enough guts, with enough tenacity, anything is possible. I’m gonna do this, Fao, even if it kills me. I may not be Vadid, but I’m going to be something better. Me? I’m Gisbo Falcon, dumbass extraordinaire! I’m the Man-Phoenix now, and I’m gonna be the best there ever was! When you do the moonfire this time, I want it to be huge, none of this little stuff. Give me as much as you can; I can take whatever you throw at me,” Gisbo said.


I don’t think you understand. If I go bigger than before, then the power you are trying to absorb is greater than yourself and the matter that holds you together. It could absorb and eradicate you forever. It’s not worth it,” Fao said.


That’s just it, Fao. I’m not doing it for myself anymore. That’s why I failed. I’ve found my resolve, Fao. Let me have it, I’m ready.”


Gisbo . . .” Fao said.


I’ve never been more ready for anything in my entire life. Do it,” Gisbo said. “If there is a battle coming, I want all the power I can to protect my friends.”

 

“Resolve . . . I remember, I remember what I am . . . why I’m here, resolve, resolve . . . and the others. Others, like me. How, how could I have been so selfish?” Gisbo stammered, as he then thought of the most unselfish man he had ever known . . .

 


I’m about to do something really stupid, something that has never been done before,” Falcon said, standing up to his feet and sighing. “I’m going to be going away for a while, son. Where I’m going, you cannot follow. I’ve been thinking long and hard about this moment, some last phrase to tell you, something you can always remember me by. That way, when things get darkest, you can say this little diddie and feel me close,”


Dad,” Gisbo started.


And I think I may have, sort of, found it. So, if you would, prepare yourself once more for one of Falcon Vadid’s famous speeches,” Falcon said, patting his pants, his chest comically. Falcon stopped, smiled, and looked at him.


Here it is, Gisbo. When I’m gone, please, remember these words,” Falcon said.


Gone? Dad! But, Dad!” Gisbo started, dread gripping his heart. Tears began to well up in his eyes.

All was quiet. Falcon took in a deep breath, all eyes upon him, closed his eyes, put his back to Drakearon, strained, and then,

BRUMMMMMMMMPH!

The loudest fart Gisbo had ever heard blasted out his father’s backside. It was so good, so juicy, it sounded fake. Gisbo didn’t want to laugh, frankly, it hurt him, but he couldn’t help himself. Gisbo and his father laughed, and laughed, and pointed at Purah, and Lokin who coughed and gagged. Even Drakearon was forced to take off his mask and turn his back to them in order to hold his nose.

Together, Father and son laughed until they cried, and when the two of them were breathing hard, Falcon walked toward his son, put an arm around him, and looked him in the eyes.


Sometimes, Gisbo, what this world needs more than anything else is just a little laughter. Sometimes, fools are required more than heroes, and sometimes, all it takes, is a good fart to bring even Gods to their knees.” Falcon said as he stood up to his full height.

 

“Dad, why? Why?” Gisbo muttered, now the tears were really coming down as he saw his father stand up to a tyrant, sacrifice himself, and give them the time to . . .

“Time . . . he gave us, time! And I . . . I’ve disrespected his memory, I’ve, what have I done? No more, NO MORE!” Gisbo said, feeling goose flesh rip across him, his head weighted, swimming with memories, but it was a good ache, all preparing him, for the number one memory, the one that had sent him running to the bottle, but, there was no running now. Gisbo stood to his feet, his body shaking all over, Drakeness leaking out of his pours like black, glistening sweat. He braced himself, took a deep breath, and the memory hit him like a bull moose, sending him back to his knees . . .

 


Gisbo, Gisbo, stop . . . please . . .” Kennis said. “Listen to me.”

Gisbo stopped, his face on Drakearon’s boot.


Gisbo, look at me,” Kennis said. Gisbo felt drops hit the top of his head, and he managed to roll on his back and look up. He saw Kennis’s face through hazy vision, her warm tears falling and splashing on his forehead and dripping down his cheeks, adding to his own.


It wasn’t, it wasn’t supposed to be this way . . . this isn’t how it ends, Kennis! This isn’t, this can’t be how it ends! Fairy tales are real! Dreams come true, happy endings, they exist! Kennis, I . . .”


Yes, Gisbo, yes they do. You helped show me that. The time I’ve spent with you, the time I . . .” Kennis said.


Finish it up,” Drakearon snapped.


Just know, Gisbo, no matter what, know that with everything I am, I love . . .” Kennis was unable to finish her sentence as Drakearon’s blade made its move and slashed her throat to ribbons, and let her fall.

BOOK: Renegade Reborn
13.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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