by J. C. Fiske
“It all makes so much sense now! At least, that part. Does Frank know that version of the story?” Gisbo asked.
“No, I don’t think he does. It isn’t well known. Even so, I feel he’s too wrapped up in his own darkened heart to really pay any attention to what happened. But because of that night and because your father went up against the unholy twelve like a one-man army, he is in grave danger,” Foxblade said.
“Why is that? They’re all dead,” Gisbo said. Foxblade shook his head.
“No, one still remains, and she may be the most deadly of them all, especially for your father,” Foxblade explained.
“And why might that be?” Gisbo asked.
“Because she was your father’s ex-lover,” Foxblade said.
Chapter Thirteen: The Holy Chosen
“She was my dad’s . . . ex?” Gisbo asked. “Just who is she?”
“A very dangerous, unpredictable, and obsessive individual that needs taking down. I do not much like discussing your father’s past with you, but she is one of the rare ones left on this planet who has the Drakeness flowing through her veins. For nearly thirteen years, we have seen no trace of her. She has hidden herself well, and we finally know where. I believe she may be behind the Holy Chosen. Their cult is beginning to spread, even within the likes of Oak County. It is a frightening thing, indeed. Just like the Drakeness, the weak and lost flock to it, looking for answers,” Foxblade said. “We, however, are searching for answers, as well. We must confirm a sighting of her within these walls, find the evidence, and discover your father’s location. Something is in the works here, and I don’t like it.”
A thought rose to the front of Gisbo’s mind, a thought that terrified him. “So, if she has the Drakeness, then that means she could share her blood and infect people and spread it! Can’t she?” Gisbo asked. Gisbo felt relieved when Foxblade shook his head.
“It is impossible. Only Drakeron himself can share his blood as he is the only one directly in tune with and bonded to the dragon. Only the dragon’s blood can truly infect someone with the Drakeness,” Foxblade said. “However, that doesn’t mean she is incapable of drawing from the unearthly power. As you know, we, as Renegades, have been outright in the dark about the Drakeness and its mysterious powers. We’ve had Falcon, and now Shax in our midst, but they cannot use the power or else they would succumb to it. The same is not true for Jackobi. This was his special mission this year. He has been training with the Drakeness as only he can wield its power. He will be a weapon against the enemy and give us a window to discover a weakness.”
“Wait, but why can only Jackobi use the stuff? What is so special about him? Is that why he knew I was in trouble and could teleport to me?” Gisbo asked. Again, Foxblade shook his head.
“It is a story for another day and not one I wish to tell. One thing I discovered is that the Drakeness, much like a Boon connection, awakes special, unique abilities within each person. This woman we are after was in Drakeron’s Unholy twelve and within the top three for a reason. She is powerful. We do not know what her powers are. Also, this is still all theory; we don’t know just how much of her power she can actually use, due to her predicament,” Foxblade said.
“Predicament? Was she injured or something?” Gisbo asked.
“Her spine was damaged, and she was paralyzed completely. We have found the Drakeness can heal most wounds, but it cannot heal broken bones or recover lost limbs. She also had her right arm and leg graciously removed,” Foxblade said.
“What? Yikes! What happened to her?” Gisbo asked. Foxblade groaned.
“Must you continue to jabber me with questions?” Foxblade asked.
“Well, stop being so vague and tell me the good stuff! Then I wouldn’t have to, damn it. What did that to her?” Gisbo asked.
“If you must know, your mother did that to her,” Foxblade said. Gisbo’s face brightened and a sense of pride, along with surprise, resonated through him.
“Whoa, really?” Gisbo asked.
“Really,” Foxblade answered.
“Then what are you so worried about? This psycho lady is missing an arm and leg, she’s paralyzed, and she can’t infect others with the Drakeness. What’s so dangerous about her?” Gisbo asked.
“A person’s mind is far more dangerous than the body itself. The body doesn’t come up with ideas of rape, malice, or sadism. It’s only a willing participant. Remember that,” Foxblade said. “As long as she is still able to breathe and draw people to her cause who can act for her, she is a deadly adversary, indeed.”
Then, in clear view, a lightning strike revealed Sand Lake City. In daylight, it was probably a beautiful place. Ivory walls of various curvatures said they were wealthy, but now, in the dead of night, Gisbo had to admit the place looked rather ominous and foreboding, especially with everything he had just heard. So many questions swarmed through his mind. What was worse was the people in front of him could answer most of them if they weren’t the strong, silent types.
“We have arrived. Be proud to stand upon this ground, Gisbo. Many Flarians gave their lives here upon these sands to make sure your future had freedom and peace . . . at least, for a little while,” Foxblade said. “Here stands the once great Flarian capital, Cledwyn City, resurrected by blasphemous hands. Let us be cautious, discover what we need, and make haste. Come to me, Gisbo. It is time.”
Gisbo made his way to Foxblade. Slowly, Foxblade closed his eyes and concentrated. The ring upon his finger glowed a fierce yellow, and he reached out and placed a weathered hand upon Gisbo’s head. Gisbo felt a rush of energy, not within, but around him. The skin on the back of his neck and forearm felt raised. He saw a substance that looked like the surface of a glittering lake under a moonlit sky wash across his entire being. Through the raindrops, if he squinted, he could barely make out the outline of his feet. He could barely even see his hands in front of his face, as the substance finished washing over him from head to toe.
“Whoa . . .” was all Gisbo could muster.
“Cloaks up, Jackobi,” Foxblade ordered. Jackobi obeyed as both he and his father faded away from view in flashes of yellow.
“But I can’t even see either of you,” Gisbo started to say when Foxblade snapped his fingers into a glow and poked him in the eyes with his index and middle finger. Gisbo leapt back out of instinct, ready to feel pain, but it didn’t come. Instead, Jackobi and Foxblade were lit up in an array of yellows. He could see them perfectly. Beyond them, he noticed many blurred, yellow clouds moving through the city walls.
“Whoa, what is this? How did you . . .” Gisbo started.
“I have now granted you the eyes of a Soarian Shininja. Anything lit up is heat. You would be wise to stay clear of it. Now follow my lead, both of you. The rain will hide our tracks, but will also make it a tad bit easier for our enemy to see us. If we somehow get separated, Gisbo, always stay to the shadows and you will be fine. The rendevous point will be at the place of origin where we arrived by the Drakeness portal. Let’s move out.”
Both Foxblade and Jackobi took on crouched stances. They seemed to glide across the sands as if they were on skates. Gisbo tried to do the stance as well and tripped over his own feet and crashed into the sands. Jackobi and Foxblade immediately stopped and turned.
“What are you doing?” Foxblade asked.
“I was, ugh, I tripped,” Gisbo said.
“Stop walking like you have a load in your drawers and that won’t happen. Now come,” Foxblade said. Gisbo grumbled and reluctantly followed. They were now outside of the gates. Gisbo saw that the gates were closed, but there was nobody at all near the gate or the watch towers above.
“This is child’s play,” Jackobi muttered. “We could sneak in here without our cloaks.”
“Still be on your guard, my son. Never underestimate your opponent, always consider them stronger than you,” Foxblade said.
“Yes, Father,” Jackobi said. “What mode of entry do you suggest?”
Foxblade lo
oked at the thick, closed doorway. He viewed the surrounding area, back and forth, and finally pointed over at the far end of the wall.
“There is the farthest point from the closest person. That will be our entry,” Foxblade said.
“So, what? We’re just gonna climb over the wall? How do you plan on doing that?” Gisbo asked.
“I have the ability at my disposal to erase future stupid questions from an individual forever. All you must do is stick out your tongue,” Foxblade said as he playfully flipped his dagger in the air. Gisbo gulped.
“Come,” Jackobi said. Gisbo followed both Shininjas to the far side of the wall.
“Our Soarian cloaks serve many purposes. Now, follow us and do as we do,” Foxblade said. Both he and Jackobi planted their fingertips against the side of the wall and, with one motion, pulled their bodies upwards and planted their feet. They did not fall. Instead, their hands and feet stuck to the surface like suction cups and, like two black spiders, they were up the wall in seconds. They planted themselves at the top in crouched positions and waited for Gisbo to move.
“Did I stutter with my orders, Gisbo? Or do I need to throw something sharp at you?” Foxblade called from above. Gisbo immediately put his hands and feet upon the side of the wall and shimmied up without trouble. Foxblade and Jackobi, without warning, fell backward over the wall. Before Gisbo could say anything at all, he saw them float downward like feathers as they neatly turned themselves and landed upon their feet. Gisbo didn’t wait for a snide comment from Foxblade this time as he leapt from the wall without question, only to realize that he was, indeed, falling. The ground came up before he had any time to yell, when suddenly he stopped a foot from the ground and fluttered for a moment. He saw Foxblade with his arm extended and felt the air circulating beneath him like a pillow. It disengaged and he hit the ground with a huff.
“Damn it all, why didn’t you tell me the cloak didn’t let me float?” Gisbo asked.
“We were not floating, we were flying slowly. I can share a few of my Soarian abilities with you, but not flight. That is innate to us and an elementary rule, such as a Naforian being unable to allow us to understand animals. If you paid attention in Perry’s class last year, you would have remembered that. Paying attention in class can save your life. Now, without further delay, do try to keep up,” Foxblade said as he and Jackobi glided across the sand like twin snakes. Gisbo rolled his eyes and speechlessly, but reluctantly, followed behind.
Light and Dark was easily distinguishable with the new Soarian filters over Gisbo’s eyes. The safe places were pitch black, and the dangerous areas were gray or yellow. Sometimes he saw a cross of the two. Gisbo followed Foxblade and Jackobi to the edge of a small dwelling in an alleyway.
They edged their way through the alleyway, up against both sides of the walls, and for the first time, Gisbo saw the courtyard of Sand Lake City, once the great home of his own people. He had to admit it was beautiful. Everything seemed crafted from ivory and gold, with stones as black as the night itself. Fountains sprayed fresh water from springs that came below the surface, pillars supported the larger buildings, and, much to Gisbo’s surprise, a statue of the current Warlord, Karm, was erected in the middle of the courtyard, as lifelike as the one of Vadid that stood in the center of Heaven’s Shelter. This one, however, made Karm seem like an incredible warrior, robed with flowing armbands, headbands, and capes that hung like wide ribbons from his shoulder blades and neck. Best of all, he had a sword that was nearly twice the size of his own body hanging loosely over his shoulder as if he knew what he was doing with it. Gisbo couldn’t help but snicker at such a false portrayal of Karm.
“Wow, what a tool,” Gisbo said. Gisbo noticed that Foxblade and Jackobi were looking past the silly statue and seemed disturbed by the scenery itself. “What’s the matter with you guys?”
“The statue is just the beginning of despicable here, Gisbo. I wouldn’t expect you to notice the color scheme of this place and what it means, but why don’t you take a guess? If you notice, the absence of red is one sign, but look at the colors erected here, colors Karm wouldn’t even dare put in Heaven’s Shelter, but they are here.”
“The gold, black, and white mean something?” Gisbo asked. Foxblade nodded.
“They are the colors of Drakearon himself. I feel his presence here. It is unsettling. What is even more unsettling is Karm’s men are here, as well. That they have struck a deal of neutrality with these Holy Chosen or are involved with them is troubling. Something bigger is going on. Let us continue forward,” Foxblade said.
They did, ever so silently, careful to stay in the darkest places, but for a place this big, there were hardly any guards on patrol at all. Most of them looked woozy and wobbly.
As they continued through the courtyard, they heard singing and clinking of cups coming from a luxurious building that seemed to stretch to the sky. Perfectly rectangular and seeming to have close to twenty floors, each floor was brilliantly lit. Foxblade and Jackobi stared upward at it.
“What a structure . . . I’ve never seen a building like it before. What do you suppose it is?” Jackobi asked no one in particular.
“It’s a skyscraper . . .” Gisbo said. Foxblade and Jackobi, surprised at Gisbo’s answer, turned to him.
“What? There were pictures of that type of building in my Man-Angel books. That’s what they called it, anyhow. I just can’t believe one was actually built here!” Gisbo said.
“Let us make our way closer,” Foxblade said.
They silently moved to the ground floor’s wide open doors. Inside were tables aplenty and every one of them was filled with drunken, armor-clad soldiers, causing an absolute uproar, singing with fervor. Several fights had broken out and more than a few soldiers were passed out on the floor, some from too much alcohol and some with black eyes.
“No restraint . . . being stationed here by Karm is more like a vacation than work. If only the townspeople of Oak County knew where their tax tarries are going to. Still, all the better for us,” Foxblade said.
“I thought this was a religious city? There seems to be no account of any that I have yet,” Jackobi stopped when they saw the tallest building nestled in the center, opposite from the skycraper, tall with a large steeple and as wide as a small canyon. They heard bells chime loudly in the steeple, and suddenly the whole town came alive. Every tiny home’s light came on and doors were thrust open in a flash. People poured out from them, practically in a sprint, and they were coming right for them. Before Gisbo had time to think, he felt Jackobi and Foxblade grab each of his arms and he found himself floating in the air above the spraying fountain. He was getting soaked.
“Higher!” Gisbo yelled. Jackobi and Foxblade looked down and did as he said. Multitudes of people were running to and fro. Gisbo couldn’t believe the excitement in their eyes. There seemed to be an unnatural glow in them. Suddenly, an old woman tripped and fell to the ground. Instead of being helped up, she was trampled. She screamed as she took several kicks to her mid-section and face, and then she was lost to the crowd. Gisbo shook his head in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. After another long minute, all the people were packed inside the church and the remains of the old woman were clearly visible, looking like a blood stain on a pure white sheet. She was dead, her body mangled almost beyond recognition. Soon, a few guards came over, picked her up by her feet, and dragged her away, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.
Jackobi and Foxblade floated downward and planted Gisbo gently on his feet and made their way over to the stain upon the ground. Gisbo shook his head.
“Unbelievable. What the hell was so exciting in there to make people so heartless? This old woman died right in front of them and they were the cause!” Gisbo said, unable to take his eyes off the blood spatter across the ground.
“Look at this . . .” Jackobi said, motioning them over. They followed and arrived at one of the small homes. As soon as Jackobi pointed out the steel bars on the windows and the studs
upon the door, it seemed to change before Gisbo’s eyes from a home to a prison cell.
“These locks are all linked together. These people were locked within these homes from the outside. As soon as those bells started chiming, the locks were released,” Jackobi said.
“I’ve rarely seen people walk with smiles to a church service, let alone sprint with grins. There was only pleasure upon their faces. Their eyes were full of craving, longing, as if they have been deprived of something. It can’t be food, however, they all looked healthy, except for their hands . . .” Foxblade said. Then something clicked.
“They were all scarred, weren’t they?” Gisbo asked. Foxblade looked at him, surprised.
“I’m amazed at your eyesight, Gisbo,” Foxblade said.
“No, I just guessed. I met a girl earlier this year out in the desert while training with Falcon. She was very pale, looked healthy otherwise, but had deep scars on her hands. Then she cocked an ear, as if she heard something, and I’ll never forget how she smiled. With that, she took to the sky and flew off,” Gisbo said.
“A Soarian then? A Soarian with Elekai’ potential, as well. We Soarians with Elekai’ potential also have vast hearing capabilities. We are one with the air and sound travels upon it. Not only do we hear sound, we feel it. This girl you met, I wonder if she heard bells,” Foxblade said. Gisbo just shrugged.
“Well, let’s find out what this thing is all about, shall we?” Jackobi suggest. They all nodded and made their way to the large church. They no sooner made it onto the steps, then Foxblade stopped in his tracks. Jackobi and Gisbo both turned to face him.
“What? What is it?” Gisbo asked. Foxblade simply pointed upward. Gisbo and Jackobi followed his finger to a large, bronzed sign. In huge, beautifully designed letters, the sign read:
“Chapel of the Saint Priestess Narsissa”
