Renegade Rising (The Renegade Series)

by J. C. Fiske

  “Oh my, if it isn’t my young friend Gisbo! Good to see ya, champ. So, why is it that every time I see you it seems you have just survived a bear attack? Where is this bear? I’m sure the good general here would be able to dispose of him for you. Why I could be of service too, what with my trusty broom in hand, I’m sure we could beat him back into hibernation. SWOOSH! SWOOSH!” Falcon burst out, swinging his broom all about.

  “Enough! Your stench is unbearable, janitor. Cannon, Scarrr, please dispose of this bothersome bloke,” Ricard said before falling into a coughing fit.

  “Yes, sir! Come now, janitor, there is much cleaning to do elsewhere. Yes, very far away. Just come with me and we will . . . WHOOP!” Cannon reached out to grab Falcon and in an odd disarray of events, he tripped over Falcon’s foot and fell like a rock due to his heavy armor. Completely embarrassed, Cannon saw Scarrr loom over him with a half smile. This only angered the mountain of muscle even more.

  “That’s it! I’VE HAD IT! You are coming with me!” Cannon exclaimed as he regained his feet with much effort. In that instant, Falcon lashed out with lightning speed and punched Cannon square in the face, knocking back on his duff. Dazed and confused, Cannon sat upon the ground and realized his nose was bleeding. He now held it both due to the smell and to contain the flowing blood.

  “What on Thera . . . YOU DARE STRIKE ME!!??” Cannon bellowed.

  It was then Falcon’s demeanor transformed as he straightened up and carried himself like a whole new person. He turned away from Cannon and looked Ricard straight in the eyes.

  “You dare strike that boy again and I can promise, a bloody nose will be the least of your concerns,” Falcon said. His voice had dropped a whole octave and adapted a scary tone. At this point many guards had gathered round, as well as parents and children. The general eyed Falcon with curiosity.

  “Falcon, is it? You have made it clear that you are no mere janitor. I hesitate to order my guards to rush in and slay you where you stand for one reason. And do you know why? In all my years of service to Warlord Karm, a man has never looked me in the eyes as you have. For a brief moment, you took me back to the days of battle where status meant nothing. Back then, only strength spoke for a man. Obviously you are here for this boy. You have most likely been employed for quite some time to keep an eye on him and, for the moment, I do not care why. You, my janitor friend, are far more interesting . . .” Ricard stated, arms folded. Falcon looked at Ricard with a thin smile, then peered down at Gisbo. He seemed to practically glow with a calm reassurance.

  “Gisbo, I am sure you are bewildered at this point, but do not worry yourself. I, Falcon, have come for you and will protect you with my life. When we leave this place, all will be explained. For now, I want you to trust me and stay conscious. You certainly won’t want to miss this …” Falcon said. He then flashed a crazy grin and with a flick of his wrist, ripped back his white hood to reveal a beautifully stitched, vibrant blue, two tailed bandana.

  Chapter Four: Dreams Anew

  A Renegade!!?? That’s . . . that’s . . . Gisbo was in complete shock. He knew the bandana well. The vivid artist’s renditions from his books came flooding back to him as Falcon ripped away the rest of his scrubby, stinky cloak to reveal the full uniform. The color scheme made it look as if the entire suit glowed like the vivid blue flames at the heart of a fire. Everything was present: the flowing blue cape with black and white jagged edges; the loose, sleeveless, jump-suit-like uniform; the tight black leather bracings around the chest, waist and legs with lighter blue trimmings.

  Almost as impressive as the uniform’s design were the night black tattoos that streamed down Falcon’s entire left arm, where a scabbard, tied directly to his hip, pointed down behind him. The sword’s handle was topped with a brilliant red stone that glittered like a sunrise.

  The citizens of Oak County stood in awe at this revelation, not knowing whether it was the real thing or an insane imposter who stood before the Elekai’ Elite now. But then again, the man had sent hefty Captain Cannon flying from his pedestal . . . no mean feat. All gazes shifted from the blue clad warrior to the Elekai’ Elite, each with the same question emblazoned across their faces that read, What are you gonna do now? Ricard, not to be outdone, quickly drew attention back to himself.

  “To think you a mere janitor was a mistake, but to think that a Renegade was hidden under that obscene garb? Can it be?” Ricard said, as if he were talking to himself. Scarrr and Cannon remained speechless as they began moving behind their leader with caution, awaiting orders.Gisbo sat still, not wanting to move with Ricard's sword still just a swing away.

  “I hate to be a bother, but you must understand . . . I still have much sweeping to do and, if you would be so obliged, I would love to do it with the three of you.” Falcon paused to let his statement sink in, before continuing. “Now, we Renegades have always been the more battle battle, less talky-talky type. So let’s get to the part where I climactically defeat you all and am on my way with the boy intact,” Falcon said, folding his arms impatiently.

  Captain Ricard stood for a moment and pondered a question that had long troubled him. In his own way, he had surpassed his own father’s legacy, no easy feat, but now a new possibility occurred to him. The only thing to rival his accomplishments now was distant memory of the Renegades, the mythic elite of old. Supposed elite, Ricard thought. Should he defeat one now, the question would be settled once and for all. He, General Ricard, would be known country wide as the ultimate warrior and the trouncer of Renegades. He even had an entire crowd to witness it.

  It’s the chance of a lifetime, Ricard thought. He had made his decision. Why end things so anticlimacticly by sending all his guards to attack one man? He had the people’s eye; why not make things interesting? Ever since the Flarians left, life had been so awfully boring anyway.

  “Guards, restrain the boy,” Ricard ordered. The guards obeyed and dragged Gisbo a safe distance away.

  “Your offer is indeed . . . intriguing, Falcon. However, I would need to see for myself that you are worth my worth. Meet my subordinates, Cannon and Scarrr,” Ricard said.

  “We’ve met,” Falcon growled. Cannon and Scarrr suddenly looked at one another.

  “Together they do not equal my true strength. Fight them both, defeat them, and you will be rewarded by fighting me as . . .”

  “Foolish TURKEY! You are not a prize to be won! You honestly think yourself able to withstand the fury of a Renegade Berserker? Hah! You turkey!” Falcon barked. Ricard was left speechless. “However, I do love me a fight, challenging or not. Send me your worthless peons but, I will say, I cannot guarantee their safety. Upon facing me, they may never fight again,” Falcon warned, this time his tone as mild as if he were discussing the weather. Ricard felt as if he were back in his young days as a soldier and a drill sergeant had just reprimanded him.

  Did he honestly just call me . . . a turkey? Not just a turkey, but a FOOLISH TURKEY? Less talky-talky, huh? For someone who does not like to talk, he doesn’t seem to shut up! Ricard gathered his thoughts.

  “CANNON! SCARRR! HAVE AT HIM!” Ricard screamed, thrusting his sword in Falcon's direction.

  Ricard stepped off the wooden staging and made his way over to the guards in charge of Gisbo. He stood with his arms at ease as his men began to prepare for battle. The townsfolk and children all backed away to a safe distance, eyes wide, afraid to blink lest they miss something. The children were especially excited, for this would be their first time witnessing a real Elekai’ battle! Not only that, but if the man’s word was true, they were about to see a long lost Renegade fight before their very eyes!

  General Ricard smiled with confidence once again as he saw his two companions ready themselves. Their teamwork was intrinsic and their powers unrivaled. In his mind, Falcon was the one unqualified for this bout.

  Much has changed since the days of the Renegade. These two will annihilate this poor Flarian, Renegade or not, Ricard thought to himself.

 
; Cannon and Scarrr looked across at their opposition. They pulled their respective weapons from their sheaths and, in traditional Elekai’ Elite fashion, began spinning their weapons ostentatiously, stepping forward and backward and finishing their dance with a synchronized spin, standing in each other's original position with knees bent and weapons flourished overhead. A quick burst of applause rang out causing Cannon to beam in satisfaction. It was good to hear fanfare after his embarrassing incident and it had been an excellent display of handiwork and footwork, after all. He and Scarrr awaited their opponent’s next move as Falcon continued to stand, indifferent, with arms folded.

  After a few moments passed, Falcon stretched, yawned and scratched his rear end. Cannon and Scarrr were outraged by such disrespect, but remained calm. It was now Falcon’s turn to draw. In a humble gesture, the Renegade drew his sword from his sheath with a quick SHWING noise and pointed it towards his opponents, holding the same careless stance.

  Cannon and Scarrr glanced at each other and nodded. It was time to release their elemental essence. They gripped their weapon handles and the stones in their hilts began to glow brilliantly, Scarrr’s a transparent yellow and Cannon’s an emerald green. Both weapons began to emit a constant whining noise as first the handle, then the entire weapon matched their stone's colorful glow before erupting into powerful, pulsating beams of light.

  Cannon’s seemed to spark and drip with raw green energy. The veins in his arms and face glowed the same hue as the power flooded through his body. Scarrr’s burst forth in a perfectly straight beam that flashed with a deadly precision. His veins glowed a vibrant yellow, equally distributed throughout his body.

  With a unified battle cry, Cannon and Scarrr unleashed a surge of energy, causing a flash of combined aura so powerful that the wooden planks and floorboards on the staging began to crack beneath their feet, sending splinters flying through the air. Falcon’s cape and bandana tails ruffled behind him from the sheer display of their power. The Renegade betrayed an expression of profound fear as he lifted his forearm over his eyes to shield them.

  This ever-so-serious Scarrr absolutely flushed to see the Renegade’s fear. However, their excitement quickly faded. Falcon suddenly dropped his forearm and laughed heartily to himself. They couldn’t hear him through their weapons constant whining, but the body language was enough. Falcon finished his laughter and adapted the same gaze he had shot at Ricard earlier. The two Elekai’ Elite members both felt their neck hair rise as the Renegade raised his blade, slowly, and pointed the tip to the sky. The red jewel at the end of the handle glowed first. It was entrancing, almost exotic to see the color red in their vicinity once more. Falcon’s veins emitted a glow that made it seem like a lava flow had replaced his blood stream. And then, the explosion hit.

  ROARRROOOSH!!! In an instant, Falcon’s essence was unleashed. It sounded like a bomb going off. The blast of fiery energy was so powerful it split the entire stage platform in two, sending the two members of the Elekai’ Elite tumbling off. Falcon’s roaring blade had also completely silenced the dull, whining noise of Cannon and Scarrr’s. If one closed their eyes and listened, they might have guessed two mosquitos were fighting a lion. Falcon calmly walked down the steps and onto the castle grounds toward Cannon and Scarrr. Both of them covered their eyes from the intense heat and they were pushed back from their standing positions as if their feet were on ice skates due to the sheer force of Falcon’s power..

  After much effort, Cannon and Scarrr managed to regain their ground. They had no other option but to resort to their most powerful abilities and fast. They both spread out to the left and the right of the Renegade. Cannon called upon his innate powers as stones and pebbles began to fly from the ground and cling to him like magnets.

  Scarrr turned his weapon sideways and activated his air suppression, creating the appearance of teleporting back and forth as he sprinted towards Falcon. Cannon sprinted on as well, activating another ability that increased the size of his body to towering heights. Cannon now looked like a giant rock monster with green moss growing over every nook and cranny. Scarrr attacked from the left as Cannon stormed in from the right, just a breaths pace behind Scarrr.

  Ricard stood ever so still as he watched the green and yellow glow about to make contact with the red one. Falcon’s immense elemental roar may have impressed everyone else, but they were oblivious to the giant smile plastered on the general’s face. To all appearances, Cannon and Scarrr weren’t messing around either, skipping over their warm up to their most powerful attack. They never even tried it on me for the sheer danger of it; I doubt I would come out of this unscathed. Let’s see how the Renegade fares, Ricard thought.

  Gisbo watched with intense interest. He thought meeting the Elekai' Elite was the highlight of his life, but it had just taken a quick backseat to what was going on in front of him. His imagination of what an Elekai’ battle would be like was shattered. Nothing could have prepared him for the amazing display of unleashed essence. No, nothing could prepare him for the essence that Falcon, the Renegade was emitting. Was this the true power of a Renegade? Could he be capable of such force himself? So many questions, but Gisbo would have to wait for now, but he didn’t mind. He was fully entranced by the show before him. The many blows that his noggin had taken in the past day seemed like nothing. His fear of death was gone almost as quickly as it had come. Everything felt like it was going to be all right, knowing that Falcon, the Renegade, was on his side.

  Falcon’s essence seemed to be enveloping his Elekai’ Elite opponents as they neared striking distance. Scarrr flashed a false forward swing with his blade, but before the frontal image of himself even dissipated, he was behind Falcon, ready to land a killing blow.

  Cannon, with his stone like arm, now close to the size of an oak tree, reeled back and poised a giant, boulder-like fist just above Falcon’s head. Before impact, everyone, including the two strikers, saw Falcon still standing put, allowing triumphant smiles to stretch across the faces of Scarrr and Cannon.

  Scarrr struck first, so as not to be smashed by Cannon’s falling blow. Scarrr’s eyes lit up as he felt his blade pass right through Falcon’s neck, but . . . it kept going, too quickly. Before he could even comprehend it, Scarrr had passed through Falcon’s body as if it were made of a red mist. At first, Scarrr felt nothing. All he heard was Cannon’s crashing blow behind him that sent grass clods and dirt showering over him. Suddenly, the normally quiet Scarrr screamed! His skin began to crackle and turn black as if it absorbed something, and then burst into flames. Scarrr ran like a rampaging bull straight toward the castle’s gushing water fountain. He jumped in, submerging himself in the cold water and sending up plumes of steam, but the pain was too much. Scarrr passed out, convulsing and shaking like a fish out of water before he lay still. Guards rushed to his aid and later, looking in a mirror, Scarrr would realize that he had all the more reason to wear his helmet.

  Cannon’s stone-like form spun around to see the now grotesque form of his comrade being dragged out of the fountain. He lifted his boulder-like fist from the point of impact, realizing too late that there was nothing there but a crater without any human remains. It was then he felt an immense pain in his right shoulder. It was now Cannon’s turn to scream, but instead it came out sounding like a roar, a roar that competed with Falcon’s fully powered blade. Cannon stared down at his body in horror as red, vein-like crackles began to spread across his chest and move downward, filling every nook and cranny of his rock body with a molten, lava-like substance. Seconds later, the rocks blew apart one by one like a series of fireworks. With every explosion, Cannon’s body began shrinking back to its normal size, save for his arm, which stayed the same. As he shrunk, Falcon revealed himself behind Cannon’s massive shoulder. He was perched on it like a blue parrot. Cannon stumbled all about like a drunkard. His gigantic arm was the only thing that kept him standing. His body looked to be covered in puss-filled boils where the rocks used to be. Falcon then forcibly ripped his b
lade free of Cannon’s gigantic arm and the big man squealed like a pig. Falcon walked around to face the short man who now dragged an arm the size of a small oak tree.

  “Cannon the Cruel, as you were once known, I have severed your shoulder tendons. For as long as you live, you will be forced to carry these unsightly scars and lug this gigantic arm as payment for the many Flarians crushed beneath it unfairly. You will live in dire pain and anguish for the rest of your days. Do not ponder even once if I have granted the two of you mercy,” Falcon said, glancing over at the defeated Scarrr. “Living is the hard part, death is easy,” Falcon finished.

  The butt of Falcon's sword handle connected with the back of Cannon’s head, ending the poor man’s suffering for the time being. Wasting no time, Falcon marched straight up to Ricard, ever so calm. The general was shocked beyond belief, but he wasn’t about to allow himself to show it. He had underestimated Falcon’s abilities, sure, but he had never expected to see his men disposed of so easily and so . . . violently.

  So, the Renegades survive . . . Ricard thought. This thought, which initially excited him, now terrified him. What would the people think now? The Elekai' Elite were the pinnacle of perfection that society looked up and aspired to.

  Ricard began weighing what few options remained to him. Should this Renegade defeat him, his very authority would be called into question. He would be doubted among the people and, most importantly, Warlord Karm. He had to take initiative to preserve the remaining attention he had. He was General Ricard after all. He still had favor with the people. He would defeat this lone Renegade and finalize his place in history.

  Both men stood a few feet apart from each other, scrutinizing the other's movements with caution. Ricard was in no mood for talk. Action was called for, but something needed to be said regardless. He had to maintain his air of control in front of his people. The general unsheathed his fencer-like sword and in seconds, he ignited it into a roaring crystal blue color, rivaling the noise Falcon’s blade had emitted earlier. Falcon replied by igniting his own blade once again and awaiting his opponent’s action. This time his red essence did not overtake his foe’s. The energies collided as if they were doing battle on their own. They swirled and wafted through the air and upon contact with each other, thick steam rose to the sky as water mixed with fire. Much to Falcon's surprise, their energies were equal in strength. Falcon disposed of his earlier lackluster stance and adapted a defensive position with his sword pointed straight forward, ready to parry. Falcon knew Ricard's blade was meant for quick, stabbing thrusts while his was made for wild swinging.