by J. C. Fiske
“It is a miracle you're alive, you know that,” Rolce said.
“Yup,” Gisbo said. Rolce shook his head.
“You and your, ‘yups,’” Rolce said.
“I find it stranger that Falcon supposedly knew how everything was going to play out, but then my actions surprised him. Something happened out there that wasn’t supposed to happen and I haven’t got a clue why,” Gisbo said distantly, his mind deep in thought.
“This whole day has felt like that, like we are on some trail we can’t break from. I feel that IAM has great plans for us,” Rolce said with a touch of seriousness.
“How does a guy as smart as you believe in something you can’t even see? Do you really buy into all those ideas of an afterlife? Hate to break it to ya, pal, but this is all we got.” Gisbo looked up again at the full moon through the skylight. Rolce sat up in his bed to answer.
“I refuse to accept that life is a meaningless accident. It is a comfort to dwell on the possibility that there is a life beyond this one,” Rolce answered, staring at the stars above. Gisbo looked from the window to Rolce with curiosity.
“Still, you just don’t know; you can't prove it. Why limit yourself to some higher power's rules, doing things against your own nature, when you can make the rules and do what makes you happy?” Gisbo asked.
“You could be entirely right. I believe though that what you said about following rules and doing what makes you happy is intertwined. I think whatever it is up there, IAM? Something else? I dunno for sure, but I feel each of us have been given talents to use that will make us happy and as long as we stick with what we love, that's what we are meant to do,” Rolce stated plainly. Quiet enveloped the room as both boys pondered the words.
“Hm, you know what, buddy, I can get behind something like that. Night, pal,” Gisbo said as he turned over to sleep.
“Night, man, pleasant dreams,” Rolce said. Gisbo sighed loudly.
“Rolce, a man does not wish another man pleasant dreams,” Gisbo said.
“What? I was just being . . .” Rolce started.
“Night, pansie,” Gisbo said.
“Shut up,” Rolce answered.
“GISBO!!!” Rolce’s voice boomed through Gisbo’s eardrums. Gisbo sat up, yelling curses in protest of the rude awakening until he saw Rolce’s accusing index finger pointed not at him, but at the clock on the Breeze Harmonic. Pulsating in thick golden numerals it read 5:55 a.m. Gisbo jumped from his bed, forgetting that he had a top bunk, and hit the ground with a thud that shook the floor. Rolce struggled to get his uniform on as Gisbo frantically began retrieving his articles of clothing one at a time from where they were strewn across the room. In a matter of minutes, they were out the door with Rolce shouting “We’ll be back soon!” to Harpie and Fao who were still sleeping soundly.
After taking only one wrong turn past the swamp they had fallen in the day before, they were finally at the common, with the giant golden statue of Vadid the Valiant staring down at them. They ran past the statue, through some shops and various food suppliers to the wide open circular field that held the cookout earlier. Huffing and puffing, they joined a group of boys and girls standing erect in a line with an instructor pacing back and forth. When they barged in on the group, the instructor stopped talking. A painful silence ensued as the boys quickly caught their breath and stood up straight to match their classmates. The instructor walked right up to Gisbo and stood with her arms folded, glaring up at him.
The instructor was nearly a foot shorter than Gisbo and two feet shorter than Rolce. She was dressed in Shininja attire, with blond hair and intense hazel eyes. She looked quite attractive for her age as well, which Gisbo guessed was just a little younger than Falcon. The awkward silence, along with the petite woman in front of them doing her best to look intimidating, was just about as much as Gisbo could take. A small chuckle escaped his lips, followed by a sheepish grin.
Rolce went white upon Gisbo’s insolence. The petite woman simply smiled back and moitioned for Gisbo to follow her with a delicate wave.
“Hah! Here we were getting all worked up at Falcon’s warning of some big tough Renegade who was going to put us through total hell . . . she’s just some little old lady,” Gisbo whispered to Rolce in a tone just above a whisper before he followed the woman to stand in front of the Renegas. Rolce looked like he was about to have a panic attack as the other kids were staring at him with looks that said, You're friends with that idiot?
“Falcon’s boy, why am I not surprised?” the woman said, as she sized him up. “For our time together, would you and Moordin’s boy kindly be punctual? It would be MOST appreciated.” Her voice was sweet, almost too sweet. Gisbo was a bit taken aback as he nodded, not knowing what else to do.
“Good! Now off you go,” the woman said in an uppity tone as she raised her hand, beckoning for Gisbo to return to the line. Gisbo shrugged and turned to walk away when he heard a rush of air behind him. Before he knew it, the instructor was standing right in front of him. Gisbo froze as he looked backward, wondering how she had gotten there so fast. The faces of the students were shocked.
“We will be learning much in this three month term, my students. By the end of it, your bodies will be in peak shape, able to attack and defend yourselves accordingly,” she asserted. In an instant Gisbo felt pains all across his body as the instructor went wild with an array of punches and kicks, returning to her erect ready stance in seconds. How many hits had landed, Gisbo didn’t know. He was only aware that his entire body ached as if his whole body was just attacked by a hive of wasps.
“The main point of this course is to strengthen your body well enough to be able to bear elemental essence within it,” continued the petite Shininja woman, swinging her right arm, slamming Gisbo in the stomach and retracting in one fluid flash of movement. Gisbo coughed in pain as he tried to reclaim the wind knocked from his gut. Unable to, he dropped to his knees and crouched over.
“And also be ready to wield weapons accordingly upon your third notch of training,” the woman finished as she quickly extracted what looked like a dagger. In a flash of steel Gisbo’s pants dropped to the ground and he was left on his knees, regretfully showing his underwear to the class. His classmates were too stunned to even laugh at a situation that would have been funny at any other time. The petite instructor dropped down to Gisbo’s level and looked him in the eye, dangling her dagger playfully as a cruel smile stretched across her face. This time she truly was scary to Gisbo, which was probably the point of it all.
“For those who didn’t hear me the first time, you may call me Renegade Roarie. Does that name suffice to you, pup?” Roarie asked with the sickly sweetness of poison. Despite the pain all over his body, Gisbo he couldn’t help but feel angry at her cheap jab at his dog name.
“Thank you for your cooperation, pup. For those who don’t know, this is Gisbo Falcon, but you all are to refer to him as ‘pup’ for the remainder of this week in my presence. Anyone who doesn’t…well…I have something of great fun prepared!” Roarie announced gleefully.
“Well, pup, off you go now! Oh, please be on time for our next meeting, will you?” Roarie reiterated as she motioned with her hand to return once more. Gisbo pulled up his pants gratefully and scuffled back next to Rolce.
“Now, I’ll be straight-up honest with you. The first few weeks are going to be very intense. Puking, exhaustion, dizziness, extreme muscle aches and short periods of blackout are all completely normal. So if you have complaints in anything other than those areas, I’ll be glad to hear them!” Roarie spoke cheerily, as if she was wishing somebody a happy birthday. Soft chattering spread up and down the line of Renegas.
“She’s not sane,” Rolce muttered under his breath.
“Also, throughout the term while the Renegara’s are on their summer break, they will be helping in your training,” Roarie explained. Gisbo saw several boys and girls in Renegara attire walking their way.
If Gisbo had thought his day couldn�
�t get worse, he had been wrong. There, at the head of the Renegaras, was none other then Ranto. Gisbo gritted his teeth as Ranto eyeballed him, taking the place next to Roarie with his other Renegara friends. Gisbo noticed a number of pulsating symbols all across Ranto’s belt which all glowed except for a fork shaped one. At this, Gisbo smiled a bit to himself.
“For our first exercise, we will work on endurance. Gamba and Tora, if you please,” Roarie said.
A boy and girl in Nazarite attire walked to the center of the field and each raised a staff into the air. With a jolt, one ignited in green essence and the other in yellow. With a wave of their arms, the earth shifted and swelled until it formed several large, rather steep hills. Upon completion, a yellow energy field seemed to drop from the sky and formed a dome around them.
“These little molehills will be a part of our training every day throughout the term, so get used to them. It's pretty simple. You will sprint up the hills as fast as you can and then run down the other side, repeating until I allow you to stop. Also, you will become familiar with this special energy field surrounding your training ground. This trick is a particular favorite of mine that I have dubbed The Encourager. Should any of you start slacking, running a little too slowly for my liking, a friendly electric shock will shoot from the barrier and encourage you to move a little quicker. We will do this until I think you’ve had enough. Now please randomly position yourself outside of your synergies for exercises. The time for teamwork will come later; I want you to get to know your fellow Renegas, so go and get situated,” Roarie ordered with a clap. Gisbo split off from Rolce and walked to the farthest hill from him and stood next to two other boys.
One boy had a shaved head, medium build, a friendly smile and sharp green eyes. He wore Shininja gear. The other boy was massive, nearly as wide as he was tall. His Berserker attire was quite filled out, especially toward his stomach area.
“How's it going? You can call me Shaved Head or just Shaved will do,” said the boy with the shinija gear. Gisbo accepted his handshake with a wry smile.
“Shaved Head, huh? I’d ask why you’re called that, but I think I reached my limit on stupidity for one day,” Gisbo joked, but his air of curiosity led the boy to explain anyway.
“Well, my real name is Jag Davison, but as long as I can remember, I’ve always had a shaved head and, well, I’m not so much a social butterfly and with everyone hardly knowing my name, they just referred to me as the kid with the shaved head. Kinda stuck I guess, but I don’t mind,” Shaved said with a laugh. He motioned to the boy next to him.
“This is my friend, Grandfield. He was my best bud from my old town and we ended up in the same synergy!” Shaved told him as Gisbo pumped Grandfield’s strong yet chubby hand.
“Don’t worry, you won’t be hearing us call you pup. You . . . are amazing! My class master, Groggo, was quite depressed losing to such a prissy kid like . . .” Grandfield moved in closer to whisper, looking over his head for the person he was about to mention, “ . . . Ranto. He was ecstatic to see him get floored by you,” Grandfield said, smiling widely as he shook Gisbo’s hand up and down repeatedly.
“Eh, I do what I can and you already know my name, so good to meet ya both!” Gisbo said. Upon hearing Roarie’s voice, all three of them braced themselves for the order to begin. It was then they noticed Ranto make his way over to stand behind them, grinning.
“Hey, pup, good to see ya again. Me and you are going to spend some quality time together this year. Oh and looks like Davison’s and Groggo’s boys have joined up as well. Such company always attracts each other it seems,” Ranto said. To Gisbo, his words seemed to just fester and boil within his viens. He literally began to shake with fury. Noticing this, Shaved put a hand on Gisbo’s shoulder.
“Seriously, don’t. He’s trying to egg you on. Trust me, I heard Renegade punishments are quite harsh, not like detentions at some grade school and, as of right now, he’s our superior. You can’t nail a teacher, let alone her assistants. Just try and phase him out,” Shaved advised in a calm, comforting tone.
“Good to see there’s at least one cool head among you three; smart, too. You’d better heed his warning, pup. Eating is one thing, fighting’s a whole other matter. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you further today,” Ranto said, looking Gisbo straight in the eye, almost purposely flashing his muscled arm with three completed armbands before moving on to observe the other Renegas.
“That guy’s gonna get it one of these days. Groggo tells me most of the Renegaras all have that holier than thou attitude about 'em. Buncha jerkwads. They belong in the Strifes if anything,” Grandfield said with a snarl. Gisbo was pleased to know he wasn’t the only one who wanted to wallop him, even though he had no idea who the Strifes were. Grandfield made them seem worse than Flarians.
“I’m starting to like you guys already,” Gisbo said. At that moment, a giant lightning bolt struck the hill in front of them and a loud voice rang out, “Go!” Gisbo, Grandfield, and Shaved all sprinted quickly up the hill with Shaved in the lead, back down the other side, turned around and did it again.
After only a few up and downs, Gisbo and Shaved were doing all right, maintaining a steady speed, but Grandfield was another story. He started to slow a bit as a painful stitch erupted in his side only to quickly forget the pain as a bolt of electricity spanked his rear end. With a yelp and a jump, he began to run much quicker.
“Gah! People of big stature . . . weren’t meant . . . for such training. It’s so damn hot, I don’t think I can . . . YOUCH!” Grandfield shouted in between heavy breaths as he rubbed at his tender behind and picked up the pace.
“Don’t give me crap, Grandfield! You are a Berserker! You and your pal, pup, need endurance more than any other class here! Now move it!” Roarie shouted as she paced back and forth at ease and ordered a bolt to crack across Gisbo’s backside for no good reason.
“DAMN IT! YOU OLD BI . . .” Gisbo started, only to receive another one. He desperately tried to fire some derogatory name toward Roarie only to be cut off each time by a painful jolt of yellow.
The process continued for a full half hour with only three rests in-between and by the time, it was finished everybody was on the ground wheezing and rubbing their sore behinds. Gisbo had never been more tired in all his life. Aquarians walked around and sprayed water into the Renegas gaping mouths as they gratefully gulped their fill, then plopped back to the ground.
“Hills, the best way to train your endurance. The various machines around here are designed after the human body itself. Many of them run best when run continuously at full speed, not going about a steady pace for long distances. Something the residents outside our great city have not yet discovered and you all, like machines, must run exceptionally well to go about your tasks. Now, on your feet,” Roarie stated. With a unison groan, the students struggled to their feet and struggled even more just to stay upon them.
“With your legs and lungs worked out, it’s time to focus on the upper body. You may already realize our training methods are quite unorthodox and guess what? They will continue to prove so. We believe in growing muscles, not simply pumping them up only to have them deflate if not regulated properly. You may notice many of the Elekai’ Neanderthals in Karm’s army were all huge and armor clad; such a waste. With those large pectorals comes slowness, showboating and an utter waste of oxygen. You will be different! Such will not be the case with the Scrappers Supreme! Your bodies will be swift, powerful, natural and adaptable through various exercises, which we will do right now!” Roarie stated with a clap and a smile. Many more groans reverberated throughout the Renegas.
“Ah ah! Did I hear groaning? Who here thinks this is too hard, hm? Does anyone have something to say?” Roarie challenged, somehow maintaining her stomach churning sweetness. Gisbo was about to raise his hand when Grandfield and Shaved grabbed both of his arms and held them down.
“I didn’t think so. Now, like our four legged friends of the forest, we will train by
using our own body weight against us. Your strength will grow as you do and be one with you. Animals continually do this, hence most can decimate us if we are weaponless. All natural! You must respect your furry friends and train like them if you wish to be true Renegades. Training your bodies with some form of heavy weight to pump yourself up strains you unnaturally and deflates you accordingly. If you are to fight something natural, like another four limbed life-form, you need to train like it. We are made to fight, not lift things. Understand? Those that do will trounce their opponents with ease. So let us begin our exercises. I will demonstrate,” Roarie said as she placed her hands on her hips and put her feet together as the class did the same.
“We will first focus on breathing. As any Soarian can tell you, air is a powerful source and you need to be full of it. It will also begin to grow your muscles. We will do this until I feel you have had enough. First, we will breathe in as much air as possible.” A host of boys and girls coughed and gagged doing so as their lungs burned. “And now you will breathe out as much as possible while clenching your butt cheeks and your stomach tightly.” More coughing and wheezing continued as the Renegas did so. Gisbo felt like his entire torso was constricting itself as his body tingled all over and his sore muscles twanged painfully.
“Good. Again!” Roarie ordered. More wheezing and coughs ensued as they went about the exercise. Grandfield simply collapsed to the ground with a thud.
After a few more breaths, Roarie seemed to agree with Grandfield that they had had enough. The Renegaras continued watering them down, smiling at their pathetic feebleness. Gisbo indeed felt pretty pathetic as he lay down, thinking that he might not be able to get back up.
“Rested? Now? How about now? Ready? Oh good!” Roarie exclaimed.
“No, we’re not ready, you crazy . . .” Gisbo started until Granfield rolled on him and covered his mouth.
“Exercise two! Here we go! Drop to the ground like a tiger; it is time to do some push ups! After me!” Roarie demonstrated an odd form of pushup as she stretched her legs apart, bent forward, slid her body forward like a snake, arching her back, then rose to repeat the process. At most, everyone could do about three before they fell face forward in the dirt, which by now was mud. Some Renegaras cleverly foresaw the exercise and they had made sure to drench the ground in neat lines as they supplied water.
