Renegade Rising (The Renegade Series)

by J. C. Fiske

  “I . . . I don’t know,” Rolce said, his face looking like the embodiment of pain. Gisbo knew Rolce was good at a lot of things, but one thing he couldn't do was lie or hide his feelings. Gisbo knew there was something wrong here and he had a feeling that sudden twinge of guilt and embarrassment had come from Rolce's mind, not his own. He couldn’t believe the extreme pain of it. Was this how Rolce felt all the time? How could he even walk and smile? Gisbo figured he would play dumb for now. It was just a theory and at that moment, he didn’t want to know if it was true or not. He figured Rolce didn’t know that he had felt it. Since Rolce always responded well to positive remarks, Gisbo said, “Well, at least you did it, right? And with more practice, you’ll get it down in no time!” Rolce forced a smile and nodded.

  “Yeah, yeah, you're right. Still, it takes a lot out of you. Whew, I got to get stronger. At least I know I can do it now,” Rolce panted as he breathed out a big sigh.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but food is calling me from the commons. I told Crass and Knob I’d eat with them in a bit to show them my new sword! Come on, let's go, Sybil in the making!” Gisbo said.

  “Thanks a lot for your help, Gisbo. I think I’m going to practice on Harpie and Fao for a while later. I just wanted to see if it would work on you. I don’t want to drain your energy along with mine,” Rolce said.

  “Anytime, pal, don’t worry. Now come on, let's get some grub,” Gisbo said as both boys stood up, stretched, and were off once again on the endless cycle of filling their stomachs.

  Chapter Twenty One: A Battle to Fight

  Ever since Gisbo had connected with Rolce's mind, he looked upon his friend a little differently. He watched him as he trained, ate and even slept.

  There was no way somebody felt that awful ALL the time, Gisbo thought. Yet somehow his pal trekked on with a smile. When things troubled him, Gisbo liked to stay busy too, even reading, anything to get his mind off it. He now understood why Rolce was constantly training by the picnic table and how one book soon turned to about six or seven at a time. His dedication was . . . inspiring, to say the least, making Gisbo feel quite guilty about his own mediocre training.

  Gisbo had to remind himself a few times why they were both putting in so much extra work. It was all for Jackobi. At least, that’s what he was doing it for. He wasn’t so sure Rolce was training specifically for that reason alone, but was he any different? That empty bunk caused Gisbo pangs of guilt every time he looked at it. He knew it wasn’t his fault, or Rolce’s for that matter, but it didn’t make him feel any better. Guilt proved quite the motivating factor for them both and if the feeling Rolce had passed to him was truly his emotion at the time, Gisbo knew his friend was going to become one powerful warrior if he kept his pace.

  Along with their daily exercises and personal training after work, their mornings were spent with Perry and the rest of the Renegas where they really learned to hone their skills. Word spread quickly of Gisbo’s “special” weapon and for good reason. There were a lot of people in Heaven’s Shelter who weren’t warriors and loved the idea of learning Elekai’. Word also spread about the reason he had been granted this special privilege from Chieftain Narroway. If anything, this was closest to what Gisbo had originally set out to do, to stand out for his accomplishments and not his weird name. He found it especially ironic that his shortcomings ushered in this newfound popularity. Everyone in Heaven’s Shelter was indeed proud of their Gisbo Falcon. Well, almost everyone.

  Ranto hadn’t seen Gisbo since the day he received his second band. Narroway had him training out in the desert wastelands of Flaria and he checked in with him every now and then. Upon Ranto’s return, however, the news of Gisbo's unique method of channeling Elekai’ with a special device, as if he was using a crutch, caused the towering young man's glee to overflow. He waited in ambush for both Gisbo and Rolce one morning on their way to class. When the boys arrived on the scene, Ranto was leaning against an oak tree chomping on an apple casually. Rolce and Gisbo froze in their tracks.

  “Remember what I was telling you, Rolce? About looking out for animal crap on the way to class? That’s about the biggest piece of crap I’ve seen,” Gisbo said.

  “Gisbo! Rolce! It’s been too long. Enjoying those bands I see?” Ranto said as he tossed his apple core over his shoulder and made his way forward.

  “And how can we help you, butt-pipe?” Gisbo asked with a snarl.

  “Help? Right now all I need is Elekai’ and my two big fists,” Ranto boasted, flashing a dagger-like smile. It was then Gisbo noticed a huge bruise over Ranto’s left eye. Gisbo couldn’t help but grin.

  “Hey, that’s a nice black eye you got there. Were you going down on something and missed?” Gisbo said as he took his sword from its sheath. Ranto rubbed at his black eye and grimaced in anger, cleary embarrassed. Gisbo pushed him on the subject.

  “What happened? Someone kick your ass out there in Flaria?” Gisbo asked.

  “None of your business,” Ranto said, actually appearing to be at a loss for words. Rolce looked back and forth between them.

  “Come on, Gisbo, let's just get to class,” Rolce wheedled.

  “Now, now, Rolce. There is so much more to life than class! I’ve heard how hard you both have been working, especially you, Gisbo! Why, my own father was so impressed by you he allowed a special crutch for a special boy. You must be so proud,” Ranto crooned as he was now towering over Gisbo and standing eye to eye with Rolce.

  “Come on, let's, let's just ignore him and go . . .” Rolce stammered. Suddenly Ranto’s cool exterior broke. Before Rolce could even hope to counter, he felt Ranto’s spiked knuckles dig into his chest with a powerful uppercut that lifted him off his feet and down to the ground hard. Gisbo ran to his friend's aid as Rolce struggled to take in air between thick coughs. Three puncture wounds could be seen on Rolce’s chest, blood oozing from each small incision. Gisbo looked up from his kneeling position, eyes full of hatred as he ignited his blade in a blast of red fury.

  “I’LL KILL YOU!” Gisbo screamed. However, when he locked eyes with Ranto, he shuddered for just a moment, realizing this was not the same boy he had encountered on his first day in the courtyard of strength. No, the eyes of something sinister had replaced the Renegade prince’s haughty glare. He ignored Gisbo, overcome by fits of repressed rage and deep, growling bellows, aimed at Rolce.

  “NO! NO YOU'RE NOT! All I hear from you is, 'Ignore him! Ignore him, Gisbo!' Not this time! Look at you! You know what I think? I think you’re pathetic! PATHETIC! You should be up on your feet and attacking me, but no . . . it’s pathetic, a big kid like you and nothing to show for it. I wanted to take you the moment you walked into this place. Finally, a guy of my stature to contend with, but no, your little pussball friend next to you had to interfere each time. You're a Renegade, so PROVE IT! You're the son of the guy who was arguably the greatest Nazarite and Sybil to walk the face of Thera! Come on, Rolce! Prove me wrong! Get up! FIGHT ME, SON OF SHAX!” Ranto screamed in fury, with wide, bloodshot eyes.

  Gisbo looked down at his friend wincing in pain. Rolce’s face was fish belly white and his skin was glistening with sweat. His eyes were like white orbs, frozen in fear as he breathed heavily, not from the wind being knocked out of him, but almost like some form of panic attack.

  “Come on, Rolce! Get up and hit the kid! What are you doing!?” Gisbo asked. It was then Rolce finally did rise to his feet. Without looking either boy in the eyes, Rolce picked up his pole-arm and, in a flash, ran back to the tree house clutching his chest, tears falling with each retreating step. Gisbo and Ranto both stood on the spot, shocked as they watched Rolce sprint away. Then Gisbo turned to Ranto.

  “You really are a bastard, ya know that? You want a fight for the ages, eh? Look no closer, buddy,” Gisbo threatened through clenched teeth. Ranto stood watching Rolce climb the stairs to the tree house and slam the door shut. He stood for a moment shaking his head, mouth agape before looking down at Gisbo.


  “What is my father thinking? Recruiting one kid who can’t use his essence and another kid who runs at the sight of a little blood and the thought of a battle? You both are supposed to be RENEGADES! Do you even understand what that means? The best of the best! I, I can’t even ponder this, this weakness!” Ranto said, trailing off in disgust.

  Gisbo ran forward and swung his big blade at the Renegara’s face. Ranto, with an agility Gisbo had never seen, raised his metal protected forearm and ignited his essence. There was a flash as fire collided with fire. Ranto was pushed back from the force of Gisbo’s blow, but only for a moment. He wheeled back around with his free fist and struck Gisbo’s stomach in a fierce upper cut. All breath seemed to leave Gisbo as he hunched over, mouth agape. He seemed to be watching in slow motion as Ranto brought his fist back, opened it, and forming a ball of swirling red energy, thrust it forward into Gisbo’s stomach once more.

  Upon impact, a miniature explosion sent Gisbo flying backward, skipping across the ground like a flat stone across a pond. The pain was enormous. Upon landing, he hacked up a small puddle of blood. Gisbo had felt pain before, but nothing quite like this. It was his insides that were now hurting him. He couldn’t help but collapse to the ground as the pain caused everything to go black.

  When he awoke next, the pain felt worse at first, then calmed to a more bearable level. Fao was standing over him with a worried glint in her dewy eyes and Gisbo realized he was back in his dorm. He gave his Boon a quick rub behind the ears to show he was all right, then reluctantly looked down at his stomach to see three puncture wounds across it. At least his insides didn’t hurt so much now, but he had a throbbing headache. With some effort, Gisbo managed to sit up in his bed.

  “Damn it all,” Gisbo said, cursing himself for his defeat. It was then he noticed Rolce was seated at the kitchen table with his back turned to him. “So, what the hell was that about, Rolce?”

  Silence.

  Gisbo got down from his bed and walked over to sit across from Rolce, who turned his seat around, but still refused to make eye contact.

  “Rolce, what was all that about?” Gisbo repeated. Rolce shook his head.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Rolce said as he got up to leave. Gisbo slammed his fist on the table, startling Rolce.

  “Well guess what? You’re gonna! Now sit,” Gisbo yelled. Rolce did as he was told, remaining silent, staring at the designs on the oak table.

  “Well?” Gisbo asked again, folding his arms in impatience.

  “I . . . I’ve never been in a real fight before,” Rolce said sheepishly.

  “What do you mean? You saved my ass back at those tryouts in Oak County,” Gisbo argued.

  “No, all I did was prevent the blow. A girl attacked me before that, Gisbo, best I could do was throw up my weapon and block. My, my knees were shaking. I couldn’t even fight back!” Rolce exclaimed.

  “Well, today was a hell of a time to learn! He walloped you, Rolce, walloped me too, and all you did was sit there, cry and run away! Look at you! All this training, all this Elekai’and plus, you’re a big kid! What made you run away?” Gisbo asked.

  “I don’t know why! All that talk about me being afraid of what I’d do if I were mad was all a lie, a front. The thought of a fight just terrifies me. Ranto was right when he said that when you fight, you pour out all that you are against someone else’s all. I just don’t know if I have what it takes. This whole time I have just felt, felt like I’m putting on a big show, you know? I'm just acting the part and any day now I could be revealed as nothing more then a weak, frightened child. It’s killing me inside!” Rolce said as he sunk his head into his hands.

  “Rolce . . .” Gisbo muttered in concern.

  “That’s why I’ve been doing so much training and studying, because I want to help Jackobi, don’t get me wrong, but mostly . . . for myself. I’ve just been jealous of you in a way, Gisbo. I’ll never understand someone like you. You can just jump right in, fearless as anything, and . . . and how are we even going to get the chance to save Jackobi when you really think about it? I mean, come on, we are two Renegas! The lowest of the lows. Do you think we are just going to march into Lokin and my dad’s hiding spot and rescue him? It’s suicide, Gisbo! They had no problem killing kids like you and me before! How are we going to even figure out where he is in the first place? We're chasing the moon,” Rolce said, sinking his head even lower.

  Gisbo had never really thought out how they were going to save Jackobi. He figured Rolce would take care of the logistics and strategy like he had before, in Perry's challenge. Now, here was Rolce pouring out his heart to Gisbo.

  “Is this what you didn’t want to tell me? Is this what was bothering you before?” Gisbo asked.

  “It’s part of it, yeah . . .” Rolce said turning his gaze away.

  “Part of it? There’s more?” Gisbo asked. Rolce didn’t answer. They sat there in silence for a minute as Gisbo pondered all that had just happened. He could hardly believe that Rolce, Renegade born, WARRIOR born, could be scared of anything resembling an actual battle. Yet he was the smartest kid Gisbo had ever come across, earning top grades, passing an exam thought to be impossible that granted them both their bands, displaying great control of Elekai’ . . . and on top of all that, he was a Sybil! How was this guy jealous of him, Gisbo, the boy who passed the second band by the skin of his teeth, the boy who couldn’t use Elekai’ correctly? The boy who couldn’t do something as simple as controlling his temper? The boy who Oak County thought wouldn’t ever amount to anything.

  “You aren’t the only one who feels that way, Rolce,” said Falcon, as both boys noticed him standing in the doorway.

  “How long have you been standing out there?” Gisbo asked.

  “Oh, long enough to get the general idea of what just happened. What with Ranto returning today, Perry telling me neither of you showed up for class this morning, the small traces of blood, yeah, I put two and two together. So, here comes the part where the wise old Falcon shows up and offers both of his young friends the meaning of life in your failures. You ready?” Falcon said with a familiar goofy grin as he took a seat.

  “Now listen and listen good. As I said, you aren’t the only one who feels inadequate, Rolce, and don’t hesitate or think for a moment that you don’t have what it takes,” Falcon said.

  “Yeah, but I’m just not a fighter,” Rolce protested.

  “But you want to be?” Falcon asked.

  “Well, sure, I mean,” Rolce stammered.

  “And you’re a man, aren’t ya?” Falcon asked.

  “Well, well, yeah,” Rolce said.

  “Then you got what it takes. Life has a way of hitting you hard, bringing back all your mistakes to the front of your mind as you forget your triumphs. If you let it, it will keep you down in a dark hole. You just got to search a little harder, reach down and pull up that strength. It is there, Rolce, even now, flickering in those eyes. The fight both begins and ends in here,” Falcon said, smiling, pointing to his forehead, then stamping a fist across his heart.

  Rolce just forced a weak smile in reply.

  “Growing up, especially at your age, is tough and confusing. You should count yourselves very lucky that you have the opportunity of growing up in a warrior culture that will give you room to build confidence, test your strength and experience first hand, above all else, that you most certainly have what it takes,” Falcon said, leaning back in his chair comfortably.

  “Just think for a moment how many boys your age are brought up in towns like Oak County. How do those boys test their strength? Where is their great adventure? How do they know what their purpose is if they are never even tested?

  “Unfortunately, so many people never realize their potential and it saddens my heart. Instead, they believe the lies that Karm feeds, the very ones Drakearon started, and are forced to live by them, for the best of lies branch from truth. Weapons are violent, adventure is dangerous and one’s status is judged by how big their
dwelling is and how much money resides in their bank vault. Peace and comfort can twist the mind and even now a great evil is building its forces to strike once more.” Falcon paused, then leaned forward.

  “If you remember nothing else, remember this. All that laziness brings is a comfortable death,” Falcon said as he leaned back up and continued.

  “Karm, however, refuses to see it. He doesn’t realize peace is never free and must be protected. Life should be lived like the warriors live it: sword always at the hip, ready to save yourself and protect others. During times of peace, your sword is sheathed and it's only removed when peace is threatened. Karm and his followers have thrown their swords to the wayside. Don’t live such a lifestyle. Don’t let peace thrust you into a fluffy bubble, for unfortunately, although you might not believe in violence, you must remember there are always those who do and they are always ready to preach. When standing valiant in a place of opposition, you will realize that strife is unavoidable. Don’t waste your life dying in the name of peace without any effort. That’s what they want you to do. Give your life fighting for peace. As long as an oppressor rules over the people, true peace, true freedom, will never exist. This is a Renegade’s duty, my friends, to rise up and fight for those who won’t when peace and freedom is threatened. To do this, we must be strong, must believe in ourselves and most of all believe in each other,” Falcon said with a look full of care.

  “You talk way too much,” Gisbo said.

  “I can be quite the chatterbox. Take everything I say with a grain of salt, of course. You are free to make your own decisions. I just can’t help it when I see someone in need. I usually talk to Akalia. That tiger has the patience of a Sybil, let me tell you. I can stop if you want,” Falcon said.

  “We never said it was a bad thing. Keep going,” Rolce said, smiling along with Gisbo.

  “Hey suit yourselves. If you’ll let me, I want to reveal a little something to the both of you, something I can’t prove, but that I believe to be true. Will you listen?” Falcon asked and again both boys nodded.