by J.C. Fiske
Chapter 10: The Sybil
After lying in the drenched field for another ten pain filled minutes, the class managed to vacate the field. Gisbo introduced Rolce to Shaved and Grandfield as they all made their way to the bank and grabbed some tarries for lunch.
“That lady is a bit evil, eh?” Shaved mouthed as he collapsed into a chair outside a food stand that read, “Renegade Joe’s Steak Hut.”
“A bit? She IS evil! I thought I was going to die and never . . . Ohhhh steak, how I’ve missed you!” Grandfield crooned as he began digging into his meal without utensils.
“We got about ninety five tarries left now. Do any of you guys have jobs yet?” Rolce asked as he began picking at his food.
“Sure do! I just got Grandfield a job with me. I think I may be able to get you guys jobs too if you want,” Shaved offered. Rolce and Gisbo beamed.
“Really? What is it that you do?” Rolce asked.
“Well, to make a long story short, turns out that my dad is a Renegade and he thought it would do me some good to grow up humbly. So, just like you guys, he sent me away from here. It’s been quite a shock getting reacquainted with a family I never knew existed, but, at the same time, I’ve felt like something in me has been filled. I’ve always felt something has been missing, something was never right. It’s been so unsettling, but ever since I came here, it’s gone. This was it apparently. I can’t wait to see what else is in store, but anyhow, the job. Well, my father, and I use that term loosely, I know him just about as well as you guys do, is a renowned engineer as well as a blacksmith. I’ve always loved machinery myself and I'm quite the grease monkey. Makes sense really, so I pretty much had a job set for me soon as I got here, but I bet I could convince my Dad to take on a couple more for, you know, cleanin’ up around the shop, basic stuff like that,” Shaved said as he bit into a crisp apple.
“That sounds great! You really think you can land me and Rolce jobs?” Gisbo asked.
“Oh yeah, shouldn’t be a problem, we can all go right after lunch. I’d love to show ya around the shop, but I’m still learning the area myself. Grandfield hasn’t even seen it yet, so yeah, guess we’ll learn together. And don’t worry, it's not a far walk from here,” Shaved said with a smile. Grandfield's face lightened up a bit upon this realization.
“Yeah, it turns out Groggo and Shaved’s dad, Davison, are great friends. They purposely put us together in the town of Hooksett way out in the east. We became friends on our first day of school without even realizing it was meant to be. Pretty weird, huh?” Grandfield said, chewing. Rolce and Gisbo looked at each other as if remembering Falcon’s comments earlier about knowing what was pre-determined for them.
“I grew up beside this kid my whole life and we didn’t even talk to each other until yesterday. Weird,” Gisbo said, jerking a thumb at Rolce.
“So, where is the third member of your synergy?” Rolce asked. Shaved and Grandfield met each other’s gaze with amused smiles before answering.
“Well, he’s, ah, a bit of a character. He was totally convinced he was going to nail a lunch date with not one, but a couple of the Renega girls he has been eyeing,” Shaved said.
“Jeesh, guy works quick, huh?” Gisbo asked.
“Oh yeah, guy works fast, I’ll give him that much. I’ll bet you anything though that he’ll be joining us in a few minutes,” Shaved said with a smirk.
“Alone,” Grandfield added in. Sure enough, not even a moment later, up walked a boy in Nazarite attire. He had dirty blonde, thinning hair, with a distinct widow's peak and big green eyes. He sat down at their table with a huff of frustration.
“Right on schedule! I present to you Knob Brawlda. Knob, this is Gisbo Falcon and Rolce Moordin. Heh, so how did your dates go?” Grandfield inquired with a sarcastic air.
“They were all right, both chicks were just out of their mind crazy, not my type, but it's ok because I got like two others lined up for tomorrow,” Knob said with an assured smile. Everyone at the table rolled their eyes, unbeknownst to Knob.
“Hey, you’re that guy who got torn up by Roarie today! Ain’t she something nasty, huh? You got dangles, man! She’s quite the babe though, when you look past those wrinkles,” Knob started until Grandfield cut him off.
“You’d go after anything that moves! Show some discretion!” Grandfield exclaimed as he scarfed down more food with his hands.
“The day I show discretion is the day you go on a diet, pal. Thera wasn’t meant to spin backwards, don’t ya know,” Knob countered as he attempted to grab a stray chicken wing from Grandfield's plate, only to be attacked by a sharp fork barely missing his hand. It seemed the utensils served as a means of defense only.
“Well, good luck with the uh, ladies, Knob. Fill us in later. I gotta take these guys down to my Dad’s shop for a bit,” Shaved said as he rose from his seat and the others followed suit.
“Yeah, I’ll see ya. Tell your dad I’ll show him some of my designs tomorrow,” Knob said. “He should be impressed!”
“I’ll tell him. Later!” Shaved said. They cleaned up their area and made their way down one of the side streets from the commons.
“Designs?” Rolce asked.
“Yeah. As much as the kid is a goof, he is a real genius when it comes to engineering stuff. He grew up where we were too, but we hardly ever saw the guy. He spent his days cooped up in his room just . . . drawing stuff. Machinery, schematics, you name it,” Shaved said.
“Hm,” Rolce said. The boys passed shop after shop until they stopped at one labeled, “Ern an’ Dave’s Mach Shop.” They made their way inside and were rewarded with the sight of many kinds of swirling knick knacks, weapons, skeet swords, various breeze harmonics and a host of other odd contraptions that all made sputtering and whirring sounds. Suddenly, a small black cat ran forward and pounced up on Shaved's legs.
“Hey there, Driver, miss me, buddy?” Shaved said as he bent down to pet it. “This is my Boon. He’s a baby black panther, pretty cool, huh? I actually found her up in some machinery yesterday. Dad was going to start it up, woulda friggin’ fried her if I didn’t get to her first. Probably wanted somewhere to stay warm during the night,” Shaved explained. “Oh, and Grandfield got a boar! Saved it from the kitchens, pretty weird huh? Out of all the meats, pork is something he’s vowed to never touch again,” Shaved said as he picked up his furry friend and scratched behind its ears. The cat purred and closed its eyes at Shaved’s touch.
“WHAT!? That’s so not fair! We nearly died getting our stupid Boons! How did you get yours?” Gisbo asked, looking at Grandfield.
“I tried to sneak in and find some food last night in the kitchens and there he was, all tied down, ready to be slaughtered into meat when I saved the little guy. He’s back at our place. So what did you guys get?” Grandfield beamed.
“I got an eagle and Gisbo here got a wolf. Sounds like you guys had a much easier time then we had! It’s a long story though,” Rolce said.
While Rolce and Shaved chatted, Gisbo began walking around the shop and stopped to admire a large sword that looked a whole lot like Falcon’s. It was a big berserker sword.
Gisbo slid his hand along the gleaming front and he heard a voice behind him. He spun around to see a man standing before him in his mid fifties with thick black hair and wearing Berserker attire. His face was a weathered tan with deep wrinkles and his wise green eyes gave the impression of all-knowingness.
“That right there is a Talon Sword, a Dave an' Ern Specialty. Well, mostly an Ernie specialty and . . .” The man stopped as he realized who the boy was in front of him.
“Ah, hey, Dave! Come get your fat butt out here and see who has dropped in!” said the green-eyed man. Upon command, a tall, rather large man, especially around the belly, walked out. His head was bald on top and white hair frizzed out in all directions around the sides and ran down in a thick white beard.
“Ohoho! If it isn’t Falcon’s boy, Gisbo! And look there, Moordin’s boy too! Wadaya know,” Dave said. He then wh
ispered something in Ernie’s ear as Ernie nodded with a smile, gazing at Gisbo.
“How is it you know my name?” Gisbo asked, a bit surprised.
“Because we’re Dave an’ Ernie, that’s why, my boy! We always get the gossip on the new Renegas each year; plus Moordin and I go way back. So what can we do for you? Little too early to purchase your first weapon, isn’t it? I’m sure Roarie would kill me if I let you purchase one so soon. Pretty positive, actually.” Dave sounded a little worried, but he chuckled to himself in a deep laugh.
“No, Dad, not anything like that. I was just wondering if you and Ernie could take on a couple more workers for the shop. I mean, it’s a lot of work just for me and Grandfield and we thought they’d be perfect!” Shaved pleaded. Dave and Ernie looked at each other and went into a quick huddle. The boys saw them whisper something, then Dave nodded and Ernie shook his head. Dave gave Ernie a whack to the side of the head and a few moments later, they were both nodding.
“We have decided to take on two more workers for the benefit of the Ern an' Dave Mach Shop!” Ernie announced with pride. Gisbo and Rolce both grinned and breathed a sigh of relief. It felt good to know they had a means of supporting themselves now.
“I’ll be expecting you both to arrive at the shop four days a week, after you get some rest and food following your morning sessions. Difficult stuff, I know, and I don’t need you four slacking off when there's work to do! Much work! Get it? Got it? Good,” Ernie said, crossing his arms. All four boys nodded and Dave smiled down at them.
“Take care of yourselves now, we’ll be seein' ya!” Dave said with a wave as he and Ernie dropped behind a curtain into the back of the shop.
Gisbo and Rolce said their goodbyes and returned to their tree house for some much needed downtime. Upon their return, both Boons greeted them excitedly. Fao ran around Gisbo’s legs while Harpie tweeted and ruffled her feathers, begging Rolce to pick her up.
“I suppose we’re all set for a while, huh? Now that we got our jobs,” Rolce said with relief as he collapsed into a chair. Gisbo did the same.
“Ugh, letting my muscles relax was a bad idea, pains coming back, ouch, ouch, ouch,” Gisbo complained as he slouched lower in his chair with a groan.
“I’ll take the pain. Life is pretty grand right now. We both got jobs, we made some friends and we are now official Renegades in training,” Rolce said, smiling to himself while gazing towards the ceiling.
“Renegas in training,” Gisbo corrected.
“Right, my mistake. I’m gonna go relax and have myself a nap. Wake me up before dusk will ya?” Rolce asked as he rose from his chair, stretched and climbed up to his bunk and instantly started snoring.
Gisbo picked out one of the raw steaks Falcon had left from dinner the night before and tossed it to Fao, who dug into it happily. He pulled out the book on Vadid the Valiant and started reading.
Former Warlord, Vadid the Valiant, arguably one of the most powerful men in Thera’s history, was renowned for many things. An avid traveler who strayed from home at a young age, ignoring his social obligations, he shocked his royal parents by marrying a Naforian woman of no status. He won numerous prizefights and titles and was a strong and dedicated warrior, rumored to be trained by the highly secretive Renegades, warrior elite and personal guard for Vadid as Warlord. The Renegades have never offered their protection to the Warlords of old, which means Vadid must have been an extraordinary exception to the rule.
After the tragic death of his father, he united not only his country, but a world torn by prejudice and fear in the fight against Drakearon. After his victory, he went on to rule over planet Thera, ushering in a time of great peace and prosperity.
However, five years later, he vanished without a trace, leaving his two sons in a battle for power. The man who had once united a planet was now shrouded by dark shadows and curious accusations of a double life. It was rumored his power was greater than any mortal man could achieve, but days before his disappearance, many witnessed him talking to himself, pacing in lonely circles and staring into a mirror for hours on end. Did this power come as a cost to his sanity?
Even more curious is that fact that much of Vadid’s writings and correspondences disappeared with him. Many believe it to be the work of the mysterious Renegades, who disappeared shortly after Warlord Vadid. Only a few letters remain, the most notable, a letter to an unnamed friend, containing his thoughts on the beginning of the Great Veil War:
I am a believer in democracy; the will of the people, but the veil has become too thick and our people too foolish. They flock to Drakearon’s lies of security through him, rather than their own hearts. The people of Thera have failed to see their own digression and rather saw it instead as progression. My people have neglected their responsibilities and taken peace for granted, never realizing from whence it came. In turn, the fires in their hearts are gone, along with the belief in fighting for what is precious. They would instead run towards those who preach comfort if only they offer their souls. This evil, this Drakearon, is like nothing I have ever witnessed . . .
We will pay dearly for this complacency, my dear friend. My heart aches for my people. The war progresses and passive souls have been slaughtered or worse, become slaves. A cancer has filled the land and it spreads and it hungers for everything. But there is hope. In the valleys, to the snow tops, to great oceans and forests, a battlecry is rising. Slowly, the people are beginning to realize that although they may not believe in violence, there are certainly those that do and they are always willing to preach. The will to fight is returning once more . . .
Gisbo sat back in his chair, thinking hard on what he had just read. The greatest champion of Thera had disappeared? The very same man who had written his favorite poem had lost his mind? No sooner had he turned the page to find out more when it happened.
Rolce’s body began to convulse wildly in his sleep as he shook the wooden bed frame. Gisbo looked up and Harpie started squawking in worry as Rolce yelled out, “No!” and “Don’t do it!”
Gisbo dropped the book and bounded across the room and desperately tried to wake his friend. After several shouts and smacks, Rolce awoke, drenched in sweat. He grabbed Gisbo’s arm and squeezed it tightly, staring around the room, lost in a daze. Gisbo thought his arm might break in half from Rolce’s brute strength when he suddenly eased off and released it, panting like a dog.
“It’s him, Gisbo! I saw him! Our missing synergy member! I saw him just as clear as I see you now!” Rolce gasped through heavy breaths.
“Take it easy, pal. Just a little nightmare,” Gisbo said.
“NO! I saw . . . killing . . . I saw a boy killed! He was our age! They treated him like, like he was worthless,” Rolce said wincing, close to tears.
“Alright, alright, slow down, Rolce. How do you even know it was him?” Gisbo asked.
“Because, he was the spitting image of Foxblade! I know it was him, Gisbo, I just know it,” Rolce said, calming himself a little. “I’ve never seen someone die before. It was like I was right there above them, looking through a skylight window. Like I was a crowd member, a witness to the whole thing,” Rolce continued.
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a nightmare? I mean, I’ve had this recurring dream as long as I . . .” Gisbo started
“IT WASN’T A DREAM! I SAW SOMONE DIE TONIGHT!” Rolce interrupted.
“ALRIGHT! Ok, I believe you! Now tell me what the hell happened!” Gisbo said, a little frustrated.
“I saw a group of boys and girls, all our age. Most of them had a distant, quavering look in their eyes, full of fear, as if dead inside. It was then I saw him, the only one whose eyes did not waver like the rest of them. They were full of life; big aquamarine eyes, just like Foxblade, same dreadlocks too,” Rolce said. Gisbo’s eyes lit up at the description.
“When I saw his eyes, they weren’t full of fear, but something else, a dark something, but not evil. No, dark for sure, but not evil and oddly enough I thought of you, Gisbo. H
e had the same eyes as you that day, the day we met during our final task,” Rolce said, voice not quavering now.
“Go on . . .” Gisbo said, brimming with interest.
“The kids stood in a circle, all surrounding another boy, and beside him stood a tall gruff man. The man had a bald head with frizzy black hair that covered the back of it and a giant scraggly beard. His teeth were rotten to the core, like they were just about to fall out, and were almost as black as his hair. He had a frightening voice too, like a bass drum or something. He was so intense, but his eyes were . . . his eyes were the worst.” Rolce stopped short as if taking in the image all over again. “They were rimmed with a blackness, almost like eye shadow. He had no pupils, just white eyeless orbs. He pointed to each and every boy and girl in the crowd as he spoke…” Rolce said, zoning out again.
“What did he say, Rolce?” Gisbo asked, worried.
“He said the time for rebirth was near and they would all be tools to bring it about. Apparently, the boy beside him did something wrong, defied him in some way and he was going to be made an example of. The man then drew out a weapon. It was a long pole with a sharp spike on one end. He raised it . . . and . . . and . . .” Rolce stammered, voice quivering again.
“It’s all right, you don’t have to say it. So that’s it then?” Gisbo asked.
“Yeah. That’s when I woke up. You should have seen his face, Gisbo. Like, it was terrifying, so twisted. It was as if he let go of everything and allowed his body to be overcome fully by evil. Kids, Gisbo, kids like me and you! This is where our third member is! It could have been either of us in his place! We gotta help him!” Rolce insisted.
Gisbo got up and looked out the window with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know where this feeling was coming from; he had never quite felt this way before. He was completely self-centered until the day he met Rolce. He felt angrier than he should have been over somebody else's torment. Was this caring? Was it a sense of justice? He didn’t know, all he knew was that after the day he somehow survived the wolves, something had changed inside him. Again, he saw a flash of red and then whiteness.
“I know we do. I don’t know why we do, but I just . . . what I know is that I believe what you saw, Rolce, and I feel it wasn’t an accident. This must be what Falcon was talking about with Foxblade and Moordin earlier,” Gisbo said.
“We’d better talk to them about this,” Rolce stated.
“Yeah. I think you're right, but there’s nothing more we can do about it until we find out where they are! Gah! This is awful! Sickens me to the core. I don’t know what that guy is making those kids do, but it can’t be anything good. We should go find Falcon and Moordin right now!” Gisbo said. His statement was unnecessary, for there in their doorway stood Falcon, Moordin and even Foxblade, ready for dinner.
“There, you found us, now go set the table while I throw on some food,” Falcon said with a smile. Gisbo and Rolce desperately tried to share with them what happened, but Falcon raised a hand upward.
“It can wait. Food first, we are all starving. Plus, we have a limited amount of time. Martha is out with some of her girlfriends tonight and we managed to get Moordin away for a bit,” Falcon continued. Moordin’s face turned red at his comment.
Rolce and Gisbo both sighed and went about getting the table ready and then began slicing vegetables. They must have been doing it rather slowly because Foxblade made his way over and sliced them in a flurry of his daggers before throwing them in a pot to stew. Moordin summoned Norse to his side as he rocked in his chair, feeding him a few slices of meat and he popped a few to Harpie as well. Finally, the food was cooked and they all sat down to eat. Falcon allowed Rolce and Gisbo to explain what had just happened.
Rolce recounted his dream to the rest of them as the class masters stopped eating and looked at each other in silence for a long moment.
“So. He’s got the blood of a Sybil. Interesting,” Foxblade muttered in disbelief.
“NO! That is enough! No more on the subject!” Moordin interrupted. Rolce and Gisbo looked utterly confused.
“What’s a Sybil?” Rolce asked, wondering why Moordin became so uptight all of a sudden. Moordin looked at Foxblade with a wicked gleam in his eye, but Foxblade took no notice as he dug into his food.
“You shouldn’t be so secretive, they will only despise you for it later. I’m sure a boy as smart as Rolce would have figured it out on his own eventually,” Foxblade said to Moordin through mouthfuls of food without looking at him.
“Spoken from a true hypocrite! He’s MY subordinate, not yours, so kindly restrain your tongue!” Moordin retorted.
“Meh, you all hang onto innocence far too long,” Foxblade stated, returning to his meal.
“Well, what’s a Sybil?” Gisbo asked this time. Moordin looked at Falcon, rolled his eyes, then spoke.
“Oh very well. A Sybil is a rare individual who can foresee future events and receives invocations to help quell trouble from IAM himself, one of two deities of this planet. A Sybil is a rare individual indeed; one who normally serves as an advisor to a Warlord. Well, that’s how it was in days of old. In current times, people don’t believe in such things. They find them silly and IAM isn’t as active as he was previously.” Moordin paused before continuing. “I wouldn’t have believed it at first, but you have just described a recent event in detail that you couldn’t have possibly known. The last Sybil was, well, given your lineage, it really irks me how I didn’t foresee this until now.”
“Wait, are you saying the reason that you knew me and Rolce would be all right in the woods is because a Sybil foresaw it?” Gisbo asked.
“Correct. Most of what we Renegades do results directly from the insight of a Sybil. There was thought to be only one Sybil left on Thera and he is a personal advisor to our Renegade Chieftain, Narroway. Sybil Honj is his name and he is a good friend of mine when he is not busy with Renegade affairs,” Moordin said. Rolce wore a look of total bafflement as Moordin continued.
“You must understand that none of the information is ever concrete however, but it is better than nothing. What is given is enough to guide us along the path deemed ours by IAM. His ways are mysterious and we know not their purpose; only that they are, indeed, for our benefit and his. It seems IAM has spoken through you tonight, Rolce, and you must keep an open mind. Be ever vigilant, do you understand?” Moordin said seriously. Rolce nodded in response.
“Also, you must keep what you have seen tonight a secret. Do not discuss this matter with anyone else,” Moordin repeated and again Rolce nodded in response.
“And the same goes for your idiot apprentice!” he said, shooting a look at Falcon before pointing at Gisbo.
“Hey! So what are we going to do? How are we going to get him back? No kid deserves what has happened to him, he belongs here with us!” said Gisbo.
“YOU aren’t going to do anything. Focus on your training. We must be patient in the matter. Much needs to be discussed,” Falcon told Gisbo.
“But he could die at any second! We have to help him!” Gisbo insisted until he was cut off.
“There are much bigger things developing right now behind the scenes that you both have no business in. Focus on your training and let us know if you dream anything else, Rolce. Leave this matter to those who CAN do something about it. All will be fine my friend. Trust me,” Falcon said with a confident grin.
“But . . . but . . . you make it sound like there are more important things! What could be more important then to save Foxblade’s son?” Gisbo blubbered. Foxblade's eyes sparked upon this statement.
“Who told you Jackobi was my son?” Foxblade asked.
“He looked just like you, I only just assumed and told Gisbo,” Rolce stammered.
“I know what is best for my boy. Don’t fret yourselves. As for this matter, I agree with Falcon: train hard so one day you can help us in such matters.” Foxblade said, emotionless.
“So Jackobi is his name, huh? That’s
so easy for you guys to say! You aren’t the ones left in the dark! Who was that evil guy Rolce saw? He’s the one who was gathering up all the Renegas-to-be, wasn’t he?! Why are you guys shutting us out? You wouldn’t have known any of this if we didn’t tell you! It’s awful what he’s doing! Go kick his ass or something!” Gisbo ranted. Falcon got up and walked over to Gisbo to look into his eyes.
“Listen to me, Gisbo. I know this troubles you; you have a good heart and you want to save Jackobi. For that I am proud, but you must be patient. This is only one of many troubling matters that have arisen lately. It is out of your realm of concern. There will be a time for the both of you to battle alongside us, but only when you are properly trained. Stay focused, grow strong and let us do what we must. Pleasant night to the both of you,” Falcon finished as he raised himself to full height. With that, the class masters were out the door.
“Well, they were a real help! I don’t like this, we're more lost than when we started. Rolce, start talking to whatshisface up in the sky and get us that location!” Gisbo yelled.
“It’s not like I’m some kind of freakin’ mailbox! I didn’t know I could do it before. I’m just as lost as you and, besides, I thought you didn’t believe in IAM?” Rolce accused.
“I don’t, but we gotta help Jackobi! So come on, start talking to him,” Gisbo ranted.
“I hate it when you get like this. You don’t believe in him, but you want me to talk to him? You don’t make sense!” Rolce rebutted.
“Gahhhh! I can’t think good when I’m frustrated!” Gisbo admitted in a growl.
“You can’t think WELL, period! Besides, we don’t even know how to use Elekai’ yet. How do you suppose a couple of Renegas without an ounce of essence are going to go up against a guy like that and save the day? This isn’t some schoolyard brawl anymore, Gisbo, this guy is a killer! Falcon’s right, we have to prepare. From now on, we really have to focus on our training if we are going to do anything,” Rolce said, frustrated as well. Gisbo couldn't come up with anything else.
“I’ll take your lack of response as a way of saying I’m right. Let's really work hard tomorrow and the days to come. All right?” Rolce asked politely this time.
“Alright, let's get some sleep then, but first things first,” Gisbo said, as he made his way to the cleansing room.
“Oh come on! Let me get in there first before you stink up the place! Gisbo! HEY!” Rolce yelled, but Gisbo had already locked the door.
A little while later, Rolce was snoring peacefully until he was suddenly thrust awake with Gisbo poking him with his foot.
“Have any dreams yet?” Gisbo asked, sitting up.
“How can I have dreams if you KEEP WAKING ME UP? Seriously, how your brain allows your body to function is beyond my intelligence. GOODNIGHT! ” Rolce said and he was back asleep in no time, leaving a restless Gisbo to toss and turn in anticipation all throughout the night.
