by J. C. Fiske
“Aye, if the Man-Phoenix skips a generation, then the Man-Dragon skips one, as well. He has the same powers you do, he too has a wolf, he is the darker side of the same coin. The tails to your heads. I believe that he be Drakeron’s next of kin, as you are Vadid’s,” Phil said.
“But . . . then… then Malik, he must be related to Drakearon somehow to get such powers. I knew I felt it, I knew there was something off about him! But, but how come he wasn’t hurt when he used his powers? He was fine! And was still able to hurt Kinny!” Gisbo asked.
“I don’t know for sure, but I do know such powers are linked to fury. However, there be two different kinds o’ fury. The Phoenix power is linked to righteous fury, where the dragon’s is linked to raw fury. Malik, I feel, can draw upon raw fury in proper alignment; it is natural for him to do so. But you, Gisbo . . . the Phoenix power can be used with raw fury, but at an immense cost to you. It is unnatural, just as if Malik used such power for a righteous cause, I feel, he could be at great risk,” Phil said.
“Jeez, this has been quite a few days,” Gisbo said as he collapsed on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. “Nobody believes you, either?”
“I tried to tell me grandah, but he won’t talk to me after I hit ‘im, and me dah and mum are gone on errands again to the surface. Aye, this has been floodin’ me mind! I’ve been waiting for you to wake up just so I could tell somebody I could trust! Do you believe me, Gizzy? Please say you do,” Phil said.
“Absolutely, Phil, I absolutely do. Who knows what he will do next, but what can we do about it?” Gisbo asked.
“Well, not’ing, I’m afraid, but keep a close eye on him. You’ll be seeing much more o’ him in your training, but if I were you, I’d keep a lid on it. Sometin tells me nobody knows of his powers cept me an’ you. They were all expectin’ a new Man-Phoenix, but I don’t think a new Man-Dragon, a new Drakearon, was part of their prediction. Either way, you draw attention to him, you draw attention to yourself. You got enough to worry ‘bout already,” Phil said.
“I suppose you’re right,” Gisbo asked. Phil nodded. Gisbo slammed his fist onto the bed. “Damn it! Gah, I didn’t even get one shot at that bastard. None! DAMN IT!”
“Not that you are in any position to try me, cousin o’ mine, dat arm of yours be shot for a little while, but trust in o’ Philly. I got me a plan to get dat baby fixed in no time!” Phil said, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “Dat’s why I couldn’t wait for you to wake up. You get to help me out wit me secret mission an’ in turn, you get yer arm fixed, dat you do! How ‘bout it?” Phil asked.
“You serious? Alright, I’ve been hearing about this secret mission of yours since I got here. I want to hear all about it. Kalloway filled me in on the Ronigades mission while they’re here, too. How about you fill me in on everything? Not like I’m going anywhere,” Gisbo said. Phil thought for a moment.
“Aye, I suppose dat be fair, but let’s go get some drinks and come back here an’ talk. I got to loosen the whistle a bit, if you know what I mean, an’ I don’t want nobody hearin’ me,” Phil said. Gisbo nodded.
“Alright, let’s go, then,” Gisbo said as he rose. He saw Phil didn’t.
“Oh, wait, I can’t. Remember dat whole punishment ting? Aye, well, I be stuck here an’ can’t leave,” Phil said as he lifted his ankle to the air to show a metal clad strap about his ankle which pulsed yellow.
“The hell is that thing?” Gisbo asked.
“Shock chain. I leave the house, it zaps me good an’ hearty. Grandah’s keepin’ it on me until he decides a formal punishment for me for attacking him; rules must be enforced and all that bologne,” Phil said, pronouncing bologna, bow – log – neh.
“So, in other words, you mean to tell me you’re under house arrest by your own grandfather?” Gisbo asked.
“Aye, dats one way to say it,” Phil said. Gisbo shook with rage.
“That’s it, I’ve had it with that bastard! I’m gonna go talk to him right now and give him a piece of my mind,” Gisbo said.
“I, ugh, Gizzy, I wouldn’t recommend dat, he’s stubborn as a brick wall!” Phil said. Gisbo ignored him and walked through the family room and out the kitchen door, slamming it behind him. But before he did, he turned and yelled back to Phil.
“SO AM I!” Gisbo declared.
Chapter Twelve: Family Ties
“Alright, you old bastard! Let me in, damn it!” Gisbo screamed as he pounded on an iron-clad doorway. “LET ME IN, YOU BASTARD!”
Finally, two Shininjas stepped out. Gisbo saw that they were the same ones who had grabbed him before. Now, however, they were charred all over and bandaged. One of them was in a neckbrace. They looked at him with dagger eyes.
“Do you think we would ever allow you to see Frank McCarley? You are lucky you aren’t outlawed from this place like your father,” the guard in the neckbrace said.
“Say what you want about me, but don’t talk about my Dad. He’s a greater man than you’ll ever be! All of you here, you’re just a buncha drunk pansies who can’t get over their own pain!” Gisbo argued. The guards looked at each other, then back at Gisbo.
“You think you know pain, boy? I don’t think you do, I don’t think . . .” the guard started when Gisbo interrupted him, lunged at his shirt, and grasped it tightly with fury in his eyes.
“Don’t . . . you . . . EVER say that I don’t know what it is like to feel pain. When you grow up having a stupid ass name like mine, have an entire town hate you without knowing why, without a friend in the world, then get banished to a shack that smells like shit, and have to fight for what little scrap of dignity you have every day and cry yourself to sleep for twelve years, then, THEN you can tell me all about pain,” Gisbo said, quivering with rage, not taking his eyes off him. The guard was a bit taken aback. The door behind them creaked open and a voice was heard.
“You may let my grandson enter,” Frank McCarley ordered. Gisbo let go of the guard and walked through the doorway. The guards outside shut the door behind him. The first thing Gisbo noticed was just how dark it was.
Gisbo looked around and saw glass bottles with minute traces of alcohol in the bottom everywhere, scattered about in no sense of direction. The place was a mess, even by Gisbo’s standards. The smell of body odor, as well as the pungent smell of alcohol, set his nasal passages afire. Gisbo looked down at the bottles and realized some weren’t even alcohol, but mouth wash and various other cleansing products. As he tried to find his grandfather, he had to look hard to find a bedroll scattered about with books. His grandfather leaned against the wall, a bottle in his hand and swaying back and forth.
“Surprised at what you see, Grandson? Proud of your dear ol’ Granddaddy? Pah, just say that you hate me like everyone else and take your leave,” Frank said as he swigged at his bottle and gave an eerie chuckle. Gisbo stepped forward to face him. His shoulder seemed to pulse more with pain with each step closer.
“I do hate you, not because of this lifestyle of yours, but because of your behavior. And that means a lot coming from me,” Gisbo said.
“HAH! Listen to you, boy, still in the prime of your innocence, something the Renegades treasure above all else, only because it gets stripped away from them at such a young age. I need no lecture from a boy like you. You have nothing worthwhile to say to me, so just vent your frustrations because of what I did to your arm and be off so I can finally get some rest,” Frank said.
“You’re pathetic,” Gisbo said. Frank’s eye suddenly twitched.
“What did you say to me?” Frank asked.
“I didn’t stutter and I don’t need to repeat it because I got a hell of a lot more to say to the likes of you,” Gisbo said, tightening his fist.
“Oh, do you, my boy? What? Do you have a problem with the way I run things here? Is that it? You think because you’re family I’ll value your opinion? You come from a stock I disowned long ago. I hoped that you wouldn’t turn out the way you have, but clearly, hope is for fools, like me,”
Frank said, taking a swig from his bottle before letting out a breathy sigh.
“How could you even say that? How? We are the same blood! You can’t change that. I’ve lived my whole life without a family; you haven’t! All I wanted was a family, somebody to love and be there for me, and now that I’ve found it, I get you! How could you be so cold hearted after everything you’ve had? You’ve had it all!” Gisbo said. Then, with a speed he didn’t expect, Gisbo’s grandfather was on his feet and right in Gisbo’s face, snarling and spraying saliva everywhere.
“I DID HAVE IT ALL! I DID! AND BECAUSE OF YOUR FATHER, IT WAS ALL TAKEN AWAY!” Frank bellowed.
An awkward pause ensued as Frank breathed heavily and looked to the floor. He shot his gaze back up at Gisbo.
“You know what my dream was? Do you? Unlike you, I did have a family growing up, even if it was just a father. He was terrible. He beat me every night, told me I was weak, I was nothing. I learned at a young age this world gave no favors. You had to be tough if you were to survive. That’s what I vowed; I was the one to be tough, I took the hits, so that my own family wouldn’t have to. All I wanted was a family, a wife, children, and I was going to give my all for them. I was going to give them the kind of childhood I never had!” Frank said. Suddenly moisture appeared in his eyes. However, he fought it and slunk to the floor.
“I became just that. I got what I wanted. I met my dear Susan, we had your father and your uncle, and I gave them everything. I threw myself into my work as a soldier for Fanquess the Fury, the Flarian Warlord at the time and father to Vadid. I gave my family the most comfortable lodgings, the best education available, everything. But I grew apart from them. I was never there for them. I never faced the problems in my heart from my own father and now, in a way, I’ve turned into him. The sins of the father always pass to the son. I had become my own father in the end. The only way I could show my love to my boys was through sports and work. It was all I knew.
“And then, just when I didn’t know what else to do, I learned that my two boys were destined to be Renegades, and instead of feeling proud, I felt relieved. They would leave me and I wouldn’t be forced to face my issues. I was saved for the time being and spent many happy years with my wife as we both watched from a distance as our sons grew,” Frank said. Suddenly, his features, showing almost distant pleasure of thinking of the good years, changed. His eyebrows tightened and his eyes twitched and unpredictable fury replaced it.
“And then, your father changed everything! EVERYTHING! Every other child was fine, every other child came back to live at Heaven’s Shelter, perfectly content to be reunited with his family. But not him. The chastising I received from the other Renegades was unbearable. He was a wild boy, without restraint. He was anger-ridden, angry at me, angry at everything, and in the end, Heaven’s Shelter was not the place for him. He left, left us all and betrayed us and joined him. Joined that despicable man, Drakearon; he believed in his hellbent idealism and injected himself with the very substance we were trying to fight against! I disowned him at that moment. I was no longer his father and cared not what happened to him. I cut myself free. But his mother could not. She took it to heart, took it personally, and in the end, her grief and guilt became unbearable and she died of a broken heart. Your father took my wife from me! My love! The one person I felt complete and happy with! But he didn’t just stop there! NO!
“Your father, along with Drakearon and his two top men, attempted to assassinate Fanquess and cause a rebellion. HE was a part of that! Because of his actions, he threw his own country into chaos! Many died! He charged into the throne room with Drakearon and his cohorts by his side. HE and his companions killed my . . . my two best friends! MY SYNERGY! And he himself struck me down and took my arm as Drakearon killed Fanquess. Your father did that! He took from me everything! EVERYTHING! MY WIFE! MY FRIENDS! MY WARLORD! MY REPUTATION! And now his offspring stands before me. I cannot even look at you, boy! I cannot stand by as Heaven’s Shelter takes in a man like that and shelters him! But worse than all that is what he did to you!”
Gisbo was silent for a moment, mouth agape, hearing this story for the first time.
“Yes, boy! The very reason you had your memory erased. You weren’t even SUPPOSED to be a Renegade! What? You think you are special? NO! Your essence didn’t cut it! They lied to you! You were sent away out of protection because of what you could have become! You are a monster waiting to happen. IAM forbid if that block within your mind ever gets removed. Part of me wants to tell you right now, just so your lousy father can be responsible for his actions! They knew your essence wouldn’t work properly; they knew it! They humored you up to that point, to keep your mind at ease, to bring you peace. You were a failure! A FAILURE! YOU UNHOLY STOCK! YOU ARE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER!” Frank was now screaming in Gisbo’s face and tears began to well up in Gisbo’s eyes.
“Heaven’s Shelter never wanted you! They had to take responsibility for you! They lied to you! We all did! Don’t you see? See it now, boy? That’s why I didn’t refrain from attacking you; anything to stop you! They believe you to be the new Man-Phoenix? PAH! I don’t believe it! You shouldn’t either! You are nothing! Nothing but a stem from an unholy stock! You want to know what your father did to you!? You want to know!?” Frank said, as he grabbed Gisbo’s shoulders and squeezed hard.
“You want to know why you don’t have a mother? Want to know why Heaven’s Shelter felt so much pity for you? Because your father killed her! He took your life, just as he took away mine! Nobody wants either of you! Nobody! Liars, all of them! I believe in truth, rules above all else! Mercy is for the weak, like you! You bastard child of evil!” Frank said.
Gisbo thrust himself away, not able to take the memories flashing through his mind now of the dead woman, his mother, the door rattling harder, only the chains keeping it in place. Gisbo’s feet just moved and moved faster until he was in a full-out sprint as he slammed open the metal door. He heard his grandfather yell to him as he left.
“OUT! OUT! DIE OUT IN THE DESERT! YOU HAVE NO HOME! WICKEDNESS DESERVES NO HOME BESIDES HELL! GO! GO!!!!” Frank screamed. Gisbo ran through people, tears in his eyes, through the iron clad doors of the Ronigades home, said the poem when he reached the end, and teleported out.
Once outside, Gisbo simply ran between cave after cave with no sense of direction. He ran to the point of exhaustion until he suddenly just collapsed into the sand with no idea of where he was. The wind had washed away his footprints. Even if he wanted to go back, he couldn’t. Utter desolation washed over Gisbo. He didn’t know up from down, left from right, as he grasped at his head and screamed as his mind raced with horrible images and the door shook at its hinges like a chained beast. All hope was gone and an eternity seemed to go by as every mistake, every pain he had encountered in his life, was brought before his eyes.
When he was able to free himself from the turmoil of his mind and noticed the world around him again, Gisbo hoped that darkness would overtake him, that he would become so exhausted he would just pass out. But that simply was not the case. He was reminded of a phrase Falcon once told the Elekai’ Elite: “Death is easy, living is the hard part,” and this made him miss his father all the more. The sand before him began to spiral all about. He hadn’t noticed before, but the stars were not visible because of the dark clouds snuffing out their twinkling light. There was suddenly a roll of thunder followed by a blast of lightning. Everything began to feel cold as heavy winds swept downward, thrusting the sand into vicious spirals, leaving him in a brown mist.
Gisbo couldn’t see one foot in front of his own face. Luckily, he could feel the solid surface of one of the hundreds of caves. He felt his way, blindly, with his one good arm. After circling the cave in the wrong direction and taking the long way around, Gisbo managed to find the entrance and crawled his way in and collapsed on the cool surface of the cave floor. All was dark, except for the lightning that lit up the entrance to the cave, only revealing a vortex of sand.
&nb
sp; Between lightning bursts, Gisbo managed to slide his way backward to the side of the cave, where he leaned against it and caught his breath. His head would not stop racing, and it throbbed and pounded. He had to see Fao. At least then he could have peace of mind. He could go to his sanctuary where all felt right and good. He smiled just thinking about it. However, a sense of dread washed over him. The ring on his hand was gone. How it came off, he did not know. He never took it off, ever, and it wasn’t likely to fall off. He then recalled that he was unconscious for a few days in a hospital bed. They must have taken off all his jewelry to do surgery on him.
Gisbo cursed in frustration and slammed his fist against the stone wall. He was now lost in one of the most dangerous places on Thera and he could not even summon Fao to him for peace of mind or to have her hunt for food. Worst of all was his state of mind as he fought at the thing clawing at the back of his brain. The thing his grandfather had told him about Heaven’s Shelter, that he had been lied to, and worse than that was his father, his own father, had somehow killed his mother. He tried to be reasonable about it; everyone had told him not to believe his Grandfather’s side of the story. He was also madly drunk and probably certifiable.
Gisbo got up from his seated position, having trouble catching his breath as he paced back and forth, anything to keep moving, to get his mind where it belonged. Everything he had known had just been shattered. The possibility the reality he had come to believe might actually be a lie was almost too much bear. Being alone at this moment was terrible. If he had just had someone to talk to, anyone . . . Gisbo would have taken Thomson, Ranto, or even Malik at this point. It felt as if his brain was coming unhinged, tearing in two, swelling, about to explode. He collapsed to his knees, gritted his teeth, and slammed his forehead against the floor. He did it again and saw sparkles in front of his eyes. One more time was all it took to lose consciousness, one more time and he could retreat to dreamland, although, he had to admit, the nightmares might actually be worse, but it was a chance he was willing to take.
