Renegade Reborn (22 page)

“Do you think I would have brought it up if I wasn’t already to go through with it? Spare me your sentiment. A Shininja’s speciality is stealth. Not too often can one test his skills in such an arena as this. One wrong move and we’re dead.” Jack said, smiling creepily.

“Tone it down on that smile, huh? I’ve seen corpses more welcoming.” Rolce said.

“I told you, I have my pleasures. Nothing gets my heart pumping like facing the possibility of death and telling her to go screw.” Jack said.

“Death’s a woman is she?” Rolce asked.

“Death’s a bitch, so yeah,” Jack said. Rolce laughed.

“All right, tell me, what do I have to do?” Rolce asked.

“Take my hand and don’t let go,” Jack said, looking Rolce right in the eyes. “Seriously, don’t.”

Rolce nodded, took his hand and in an instant, their minds were transported while their bodies remained seated and still in Stratataris.

When Rolce opened his eyes, he found he couldn’t speak. It was as if he were underwater at night, looking up into a turquoise green, rippling moon. The slimish, unnatural color glowed ominously and seized at his heart. Unlike the Phoenix’ blue white light, this green blackish light instilled him with doubt and fear, but he was a Renegade. Controlling fear was his speciality. Rolce took a deep breath and stared right into the glow, studying it, making it more familiar. The more familiar a thing was, the less it scared him.

From the glow, countless, glistening chains stretched all about and past them, floating, rising, and falling like black, glistening tentacles. He never expected the chains to be a real, transient thing. They felt ice cold to the touch as they draped under and over Rolce’s shoulders and around his body and legs. Rolce immediately thought back to his youth, slaving away at crops on his foster family’s farm and the time he got lost in the cornfield. This was similar, except instead of being surrounded by green, warm stalks of vegetation; all was black, hard, and cold. Only the green light gave him any sense of direction. Rolce then felt a comforting squeeze atop his hand, and he turned and looked at Jackobi Foxblade, whose eyes were reflecting the green light, but through it all, the blue hue still shone through, his identity still his own.

“Ready?” Jack asked.

“I assume it’s safe to speak?” Rolce asked.

“Quietly, yes,” Jack said. “Anything above a dull roar though . . .”

“Jack, this place . . .” Rolce said, his hand subconsciously rubbing at his chest.

“I feel it too, the pressure, the dread, the fear, the guilt, this, this is the source of the Drakearon’s power.” Jack said. Rolce let out a shaky breath, and it rose into a smokey plume.

“It feels just like that time, almost, when we were all struck by the Drakeness, and only Falcon, only he rose to his feet. Even now, this, this isn’t nowhere near that time, but, I still don’t know what he found to rise above all that,” Rolce said, suddenly, feeling his emotional heart ache. He did his best to fight back a sniffle, but failed. “I miss them all, so much, Jack. Falcon, Moordin, Foxblade, my Dad . . . I can’t believe they’re all gone . . .”

Jack gripped him by both shoulders and looked him right in the eyes.

“Don’t give into despair, Rolce. You still have me.” Jack said, winking. Rolce laughed, then covered his mouth. Suddenly, the chains stiffened around them, as if a nerve was poked.

“May want to keep that down, something tells me an emotion such as joy may reveal us. Come, we have work to do. These chains, we must find the one that links to Purah. Every one of these links, alive, or dead, are people that Drakearon has come in contact with,” Jackobi said. Rolce looked through the weaving chains, swaying in all direction like countless cobras, ready to strike, and his heart seized again in his chest.

“We need to hurry. I don’t know how long I can take this. It feels like Grandfield is sitting on my chest . . .” Rolce said.

“Watch the jokes,” Jack said.

“It’s no joke. He got me hammered one night and we wrestled. This is exactly what it feels like,” Rolce said, wincing in pain.

“May as well start here. I’m going to start touching chains, and together, we will both see these memories flash before us, some will no doubt be hard to bear, but they are only memories. The past can hurt us, but it can’t kill us.” Jackobi said.

“Tell that to Gisbo,” Rolce said.

“He’s still alive, isn’t he? If anything, it will make him stronger.” Jack said.

“Jack, hate to be a dead weight here, but I won’t be able to take this much longer and . . . and we haven’t even started yet. I feel, I feel so much pain here, besides just my own, I feel, screaming in my head, from the deceased, from those still alive, I . . . I . . .” Rolce started. Jackobi spun on him then.

“You can do this, these screams you hear, it should only be encouragement, to stop this from happening ever again, to anyone else. Find your resolve Rolce, let go of despair, and push on through,” Jackobi ordered.

“I . . . I can’t, it’s so . . .” Rolce started, when Jackobi slapped him hard across the face.

“Get mad, Rolce,” Jackobi said. Rolce felt his cheek stinging.

“Jack . . .” Rolce started.

“Think of all these people, all their pain. The source of it, is right there,” Jack said, pointing to the horrible green aura. “Consider ourselves fortunate. Unlike the start of the Great Veil War, we know exactly who our enemy is. Our enemy has a name, evil has a name, and his name is Drakearon. Now, get mad!” Jack said, slapping him in the same spot. Rolce felt his blood boil, feeling just as he had the day him and Gisbo were climbing the tree to get Harpie, his wonderful boon whom he loved with all his heart, only to be taken by Drakearon, who possessed his best friend and sundered her, wing from wing. The memory came up out of him, still so fresh, still so real, he didn’t know if it was because of the place he was in, or it was always like that, but he kept it at the forefront of his mind, and strangely, felt his mouth tighten, and his lower lip quiver into a snarl.

“Let’s go,” Rolce said.

Jack nodded and led him through the sea of chains, looking for one of the bigger, thicker ones that were linked to so many others, then, satisfied with one, he reached up and slowly grabbed at it.

The memory that appeared before them wasn’t a memory at all to them. It was real, as real as life itself, and they were forced to take it in and watch like flies on the wall, unable to change its course . . .

“It’s ok, Puggy, it’s . . . it’s . . .” stammered the little girl with the blood red hair. She burst into tears, holding her just recently received birthday present, a pug puppy, who she immediately and without hesitation, named Puggy. The little dog with his red birthday ribbon still attached to his collar, looked up at her with his large, dewy eyes, and wrinkled, pushed in face, then quickly lapped up the little girl’s tears, sensing her dismay as only man, and woman’s, best friend can.

There was another explosion and this time, the soundwave seemed to travel straight at them, echoing down the alleyway, toward the back, where her hiding place was. The girl closed her eyes, fought back a scream and held Puggy tightly as her hair and little dress flapped all about from the power of the explosion. A moment later, she felt her hair and skirt fall back into place and felt the pup’s warm tongue lap at her face. The little girl, with much effort, opened her eyes and held a hand over her mouth.

At the end of the dead end alleyway, there was fire and destruction all about, as well as soldiers, and black, dripping monsters, running all about, not noticing her. She leaned closer into the cold, steel of the dumpster that she was hiding behind. With all the sudden rising heat around her, the chill of the dumpster against her body felt good, and comforting. She then felt her eyes flutter close again, and when she did, she saw it, saw the soldiers in black break into her home while celebrating her fifth birthday, and saw them grab her parents, and . . . and . . . the girl burst into tears.

“Mommy . . . Daddy . . .” The little girl squealed, crying, and holding Puggy close to her chest. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even close her eyes. She could only listen to the horrible sounds men, women, and children being slaughtered by the monsters in black. She then felt Puggy squirm in her arms, not enjoying the high pitched screams with his heightened senses.

“Don’t worry, Puggy, they won’t find us here, they can’t, they just can’t!” The little girl said. Puggy whined in her lap, and nuzzled his warm, moist face deep into her chest. “They can’t, they just . . .”

Suddenly, there was a roar, a roar so terrible, so menacing; it caused her body to shake all over. She looked up, and saw the smoke part in the air, and like a knife, a giant, winged monster cut through it. The little girl tried to look away, but found she couldn’t. The monster was as big as a cottage, and spiraled through the air with the grace of an eagle with its long, leathery, and green glowing veined wings. It had no arms, no legs, just one long, twisted, thick body, like a snake’s with glowing, turquoise green scales that pulsated, matching the rythm of its heartbeat, and red, fire lit eyes. Then, the worst thing happened.

It came right at her.

The monster twisted its horned, lizard like head downward and opened its mouth. The little girl was about to scream, when at the last possible moment, the dragon arced its body and flew right over the alleyway, spitting fire from its mouth as it did so, incinerating several ranged warriors stationed on the rooftop.

“Why, Puggy, why is this happening?” The little girl squeaked, tears swimming in her eyes. Who were these black monsters that had assaulted her home, killed her parents while they shielded her, and now, were killing everyone in her city. She didn’t expect an answer, but she got one.

“Power my child, power I need to save this world . . . from itself . . .” A voice said from behind her. The girl jumped and spun around. There, leaning casually against the wall behind her, was a tall man, dressed in beautiful gold, white, and black robes. He had long, shimmering platinum blonde hair, and a mask upon his face with intricate designs etched all throughout.

“Who, who are you? Stay, stay away! Puggy will bite you!” The little girl threatened, holding out Puggy, who yipped and growled at the newcomer. The man looked at the little barking dog and girl and gently bent down on one knee.

“I’m not your enemy. I’m your savior little one,” The man said.

“You, you are?” The little girl asked.

“Oh, yes, my dear. I’ve come to save everybody, but you see, I need the Flarian’s help, to do that. Would you like to help me little one? Would you like to help me save this world?” The man asked in a gentle tone.

It was then, there was a piercing screech, so loud, so threatening, even the man in the mask was caused to give look. Together, the little girl, Puggy and the tall masked man shot their gazes to the sky to see a gigantic bird emblazoned in blue white flames, so bright, it lit up the sky, and with every pump of its large, powerful wings, the smoke seemed to clear, but just like the Dragon before hand, it passed over head.

“It seems, we have no time to hear your decision little one, but it’s all right. I can see it in your eyes. Much, much potential power flows through you . . . that hair color of yours, is it natural?” The man asked.

“I . . . yes . . .” The little girl said. The man reached out and stroked the girl’s impossibly blood red hair, marveling at the color, and what it meant.

“I thought as much . . . oh, little girl, you have no idea your potential, just how rare a little girl you are. I’m tempted to wrap you up, take you with me, but, the better half of me, won’t allow it. I’m so sorry.” The masked man said, as his trembling, right hand rose up and touched his mask, then, suddenly his left hand came up, grabbed his right hand by the wrist and shoved it back down with much effort. “There will be a little pain my dear, just a little, and then, there will only be peace. I can hear them you know. Your mommy and daddy, they’re waiting for you! I can hear them . . . I can . . . “ the man started, and then, he couldn’t stop it. His right hand shot upward, grasped at the mask, and spun it completely around and the design of the beautiful golden mask changed to that of a demonic monster, along with the man’s voice as he finished his sentence.

“ . . . I can hear their screams, and now, I want to hear yours!”

The little girl screamed, and in a quick snap, the man grabbed Puggy by the collar, and hoisted the pup out of the girl’s hands.

“No, no! Give him back, give him back! PUGGY!” The little girl cried. The man stood up to his full height now and Puggy yelped, cried, and wriggled in the man’s grasp, trying to free himself.

“No, NO! Don’t hurt him, don’t hurt him!” The little girl pleaded, her big eyes, large as saucers.

“Hurt him? No, my dear . . . I’M GOING TO KILL HIM!” The masked man snapped, and with that, the little wriggling pup burst into flames. It squealed and thrashed as its red birthday bow came loose and floated downward. The little girl caught it, then looked back up to see Puggy was now nothing more than a grisly, smoking lump of black with four dangling appendages of un-equal lengths.

“Ah, that’s it. I can feel your despair . . . it makes me strong! Now, be still, little one. If you behave, maybe I’ll end you quickly . . .” The masked man said as he unsheathed a dual-bladed sword . . .