Renegade Reborn (48 page)

In my travels, I came across a writer by the name of Lao Tsu, who wrote the Tao te Ching, a book that single handedly birthed Taoism, the Chinese philosophy advocating humility and religious piety which is still practiced today in various realms across the universe. It was within this book that I found a passage that put the mystery of the Nameless One, IAM, the Phoenix, and my existence into a new light. In Lao Tsu’s words, it went as follows . . .

Look, it cannot be seen - it is beyond form.

Listen, it cannot be heard - it is beyond sound.

Grasp, it cannot be held - it is intangible.

These three are indefinable;

Therefore they are joined in one.

From above it is not bright;

From below it is not dark:

An unbroken thread beyond description.

It returns to nothingness.

The form of the formless,

The image of the imageless,

It is called indefinable and beyond imagination.

Stand before it and there is no beginning.

Follow it and there is no end.

Stay with the ancient Tao,

Move with the present.

Knowing the ancient beginning is the essence of Tao.

You may not understand that passage now, but perhaps doing some soul searching in your free time, you just might . . .” Vadid said, right before falling into a fierce coughing fit.

It was then Gisbo noticed, but couldn’t quite believe it. Right before his eyes, Vadid, was indeed, growing older, as if his story, keeping it withheld, was what gave him desire to live, but now, that it was out of him . . .

“What are you . . .” Gisbo started.

“It’s nearly time. Soon, Gisbo, Drakearon, he will no longer be able to control the Dragon, and when that happens, the two sides will cease to exist and all that will remain, is madness . . . “ Vadid said. Gisbo took a moment to take in what he said, his mind a blur of thoughts, but a few were clear, one with Drakearon, holding Kennis’ thick, blond hair back, and slicing open her throat, of his father’s body, turning into ash upon his touch, of Malik, beating Kinny’s face into hamburger meat, of Ranto, embarrassing him, joining with Drakearon, and finally, there came the first pain, the memory behind the door . . .

Gisbo always wondered why when it came to violence and death, he was the first to leap, unafraid to face it, and then he understood why. When your greatest fear is realized, there’s little else to be fearful of. And what is every little boy’s greatest fear?

The face of the Goat Man appeared now rising up and past all the others. Gisbo watched from the eyes of his four year old self, as the Goat Man slashed, snipped, and cut away at his Mother’s beautiful face and body as if he were trimming a lawn hedge. His dagger flashed in the morning winter sun, as blood splashed in crimson ribbons across the white snow, ruining its purity forever with . . . wait, no, it wasn’t a dagger, it was too long to be a dagger, but, it was too short to be a sword . . .

It was a Tanto.

“All that you told me, it answers much, except for one thing, the one thing I’ve wanted to know since his literal, haunting of me. The Goat Man, who is he?” Gisbo asked, his voice, and widened pupils trembling in sync. Vadid gave him a neutral look, a poker face, insinuating he was hiding something. “You know, don’t you? Tell me, who is he?”

“Even as we speak, right now, three armies are assembling, and with every army, there is a leader. One is the army of Ranto, formed from what’s left of the Strifes. The other is an army formed from criminals and the worst Black Scar has to offer, united under Malik Strife. They’re marching, Gisbo, right now. Any idea as to where?” Vadid asked.

Gisbo knew the answer, but didn’t speak it.

“I know you do, but I’ll tell you anyway. They march on the place of your birth, your childhood, and the source of so much of your pain and hardship. They march onto Oak County, for different reasons, but the same purpose. To destroy what it stands for, what I stand for, what we, stand for.” Vadid said.

“You said there were three armies,” Gisbo said.

“Yes, yes I did. The third army, will be the Renegades, joined with Ricard and his warriors, but Ricard won’t be leading them. You will, for if Oak County falls, hope falls with it . . .” Vadid said.

Gisbo’s gaze left Vadid’s as he suddenly found the ceiling quite interesting, and tried to stare a hole into it.

“I sense great distress in you, Gisbo, but the Man-Phoenix is, and must be, a neutral good, a good who doesn’t ask questions. He only acts, for the wellbeing of Thera. If they are going to stand a flicker of a chance, you must . . .” Vadid started, as Gisbo’s eyes snapped back to Vadid. His lips were pursed, thin, and he was breathing hard, fighting back a rising, and burning rage in his guts.

“You mean, to honestly tell me, that two of the biggest assholes I’ve ever come across, have armies behind them? And they are marching, right now, to a place, that I’ve always considered my personal hell, and you, you would have me save that hell? Save the very place that still haunts my dreams? I still hear their laughter, their snide remarks, still feel their punches, and you would have me, the one they outcaste, the one who they forced to live in, IN A SHIT SHACK! You want me, to go, and SAVE them?” Gisbo asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Gisbo, innocents, innocent people, good people, they will be caught in the crossfire. They . . .” Vadid started.

“I don’t think you get it. There are no good people in Oak County!” Gisbo snapped.

“I understand that they mocked you, beat you, outcaste you. But . . .” Vadid started.

“Listen, I’m the Man-Phoenix now, not you, and the day I come to the aid of Thomson Ricard, and his cronies, and, and all the rest of those assholes, is the day I’ve finally drunk my brain cells into oblivion! You know what I think? I think what’s happening to them is justice. Let ‘em burn, and kill each other! There are other cities out there besides Oak County. I’ll defend them!” Gisbo said. Vadid opened his mouth to speak, but Gisbo thrust a finger in his face. “And don’t give me anymore of your speeches! You have no idea what I . . .” Gisbo started.

Just then, there was a sound unlike anything Gisbo had ever heard. It was as if, right outside, all around them, hundreds of boulders dropped from the sky, and landed seconds apart from each other. The tower leaned left, then right, and the coffee table flipped up against the wall, as paintings and kegs spilled out of their slots, and crashed to the floor, bursting open like brown eggs, then, just like that, the quaking stopped.

“What, what the hell was that?” Gisbo asked. Vadid stared at the floor for a moment, then, rose to his feet, and breathed out a deep sigh.

“Seems, we’re out of time. They’re here . . .” Vadid said. It was then, for the first time in their long time together, Gisbo, saw something in Vadid’s eyes, something he had never seen before.

Fear.

Chapter Twenty Three: Hail to the King

“I have to go.” Vadid said as he reached down, pet Fao with a smile, kissed her forehead, then, pulled Gisbo’s face toward him, wrapping his hands behind his head, and kissed him on the forehead as well, pulled away, and ruffled the back of his grandson’s hair, smiling, with tears swimming in his eyes. Then, without a word, he turned, and walked out of the treehouse, making his way down the stairs and toward the exit.

“Vadid! GRANDPA! What is this? Where are you going?!” Gisbo called, but Vadid didn’t turn, as he made his way through the garden, admiring the scenery, felt at the plants as he walked by, and looked up at the sky, as if, he would never see it again.

Gisbo with Fao in tow, ran down the stairs and chased after him, calling out to him, without hearing a word in response, and saw him enter the elevator at the end of the dark hallway.

“DON’T YOU CLOSE THAT! GRANDPA! GRANDPA!” Gisbo screamed as he sprinted toward him. Vadid only smiled, and suddenly, it felt as if Gisbo were running in slow motion. Somehow, Vadid was controlling the atmosphere of the tower, and just like that, the doors closed, time flowed normally, and Gisbo slammed into the shut elevator.

“DOOR TO THERA! DOOR TO THERA!” Gisbo screamed, but nothing happened. Gisbo slammed his fists upon the door.

“OPEN! OPEN!” Gisbo ordered, but the doors did not obey, and just before he was about to lay waste to it with his Flarian ring, the door popped back open with a ding, but Vadid wasn’t inside. Gisbo ran inside with Fao, and the doors snapped shut behind them, quicker than they ever did before, then, the elevator began to move on its own, downward, and downward, before stopping with a sudden jolt. A moment later, the doors slid open to reveal a sight Gisbo, nor Fao, could have prepared for . . .

Vadid had just spoke of three armies, lead by two of the most hated people in his life, but what was before him now would give armies reason to tremble. Gisbo had heard the term, ‘legion’ before to describe Drakearon and his armies in days past, but that was exactly what was before him now, a legion, a legion of Maras, the very same creatures he had seen just minutes ago. They were here. They had somehow broken free into the physical realm, and all of them, in a U-Shape, had Vadid the Valiant surrounded.

The pressure the Mara’s were giving off affected Gisbo’s body, as well as his mind, as if he were looking at some mythical beast, like a unicorn, or a leprechaun, something that shouldn’t be there, times a number unreachable, and there, stoic as ever, blue flaming sword in hand, stood Vadid, but Gisbo wasn’t going to let him stand alone. He didn’t know what was going on, but now he knew what the earthquake was from. He looked down at Fao.

“Let’s go girl!” Gisbo said. Fao barked, and together they charged, only to hit an invisible field that sent them flying back. Gisbo realized then it wasn’t some Soarian ability, it was the tower itself, keeping them back, the tower still controlled by the man who held the sword.

“NO! I don’t know what’s going on, but like hell you’re leaving me out of it!” Gisbo screamed as he aimed his ringed fist at the invisible force field, only to have the floor literally morph up like a hand of clay and strike him beneath his chin, and take from him his ring, and his source of power, sucking it back into the floor, unreachable. Gisbo dove for it, but it was too late. It was gone. Cursing, Gisbo slammed his fists upon the floor, then flew at the barrier again. The effect was like slamming into a wall of concrete, head first. Gisbo toppled back, seeing stars, and fell onto his back. He was about to get back up and try again, when he heard a voice, a voice, so unlike anything he had ever heard . . . it was so wrong, as if it didn’t fit onto this plain of existence. He then realized, realized everything. The barrier, it wasn’t there to keep him back, but keep him safe . . .

As the voice spoke, the ash, and sand, the leftovers from the destruction of Heaven’s Shelter swarmed about in not a windstorm, but several tornadoes of sand, in a voice he could understand, but could barely comprehend, like he was but a dog, taking orders from his human master, able to understand the words on the surface, but also knowing there were double, maybe even triple meanings, he could never comprehend . . .

“Vadid the Valiant, I, Camatsu, General of Vile Lord Deity, Rayfenric, the first of his name, have a blood warrant on your life! How do you plea?” Glamatsu said. He was enormous, and kept flickering in and out of reality, like a shadow cast from a dancing candle, but from what Gisbo could comprehend, he was enormous, looking like a goat that had merged with a goat, and for the hell of it, grew bat wings, and decided to walk on his hind quarters.

“What, what the hell is he talking about?” Gisbo asked.

“In the name of a Vile Lord? What of your Deity, Appolyon?” Vadid asked calmly. The Mara’s blood red eyes suddenly bulged from their sockets, as if taking offense to the mention of the name.

“That name, no longer has any meaning to the enlightened, such as I, and all you see here!” Camatusu said, pointing a black, long-nailed finger in Vadid’s direction. It was then, Gisbo, as if looking in a mirror, saw his Grandfather, his blood of blood, chuckle, then burst out laughing, as if the General of the Vile Lord Deity, Rayfenric, first of his name, had told a joke. “So, even Hell itself is in revolt? What is this universe coming to? Fine, please, tell me my charge.”

“By order of my Master, Vile Lord Deity Rayfenric, the first of his name, for tampering with the threads of Time, for your own personal gain, you,” Camatsu started, reading from a scroll, and it was here Vadid interrupted him.

“Ah, ah, for you see, I have gained nothing! If I have gained something, name it.” Vadid said. Camatsu gave him a narrowed look, then pointed his red, boney finger, easily the size of a garden hoe, right at Gisbo, trapped behind the Tower’s defense.

“The one in the doorway, he is the result of your crime, the result of your tampering. There, is your gain!” Camatsu said.

“Ah, I see, so, apparently, I cannot use Time, my own time, for the benefit of someone else. Point taken, won’t happen again,” Vadid said, as he turned and began walking away, to a roar of disapproval from the General behind him.

“DO NOT TURN YOUR BACK ON ME, MORTAL!” Camatsu said. It was at these words that Vadid stopped, and turned back around again to face him.