Renegade Rising (The Renegade Series) (14 page)

The beauty of it was breathtaking, like a lost paradise. Taking in what only a few moments ago had been an empty, snowy valley between two mountain peaks, Gisbo didn't trust his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that the entire village was covered in trees he had never even seen before. Sure, he recognized the oak and pine, but these new trees were foreign species that Gisbo remembered learning about in his books. “Palm trees” was their official name, he believed, but how could it be possible? He recalled that they were only able to grow in tropical climates and here they were in the middle of snowcapped mountains!

Gisbo noticed that the warming essence around him had ceased swirling. The air was quite warm now. Falcon continued his slow coast overhead, allowing Gisbo to take in the astounding sights around him. In the midst of the trees, Gisbo could make out hundreds of huts, buildings, sports fields and ponds, but above all, he couldn’t miss the massive golden statue raised high in the center of it all.

The statue was in the form of a gigantic man garbed in Renegade attire, holding a sword pointed toward the heavens. Gisbo figured he must have been somebody of paramount importance. His facial features were highly detailed, even revealing scars. It looked as if it could come to life at any moment. Behind the man stood a needle-like tower that extended past the point of his sword. Small windows could be seen at the top of the tower and oddly enough, Gisbo noticed that it gave off a strange bluish glow. Even on a day as bright as this, it had the effect of an additional sun. It hurt to look at it too long.

Finally, Rolce was coming to. He awoke upside down and immediately began flailing and wailing to regain an upright posture. Falcon saw this and, with a quick surge of essence, Rolce was back in a standing position, knees shaking. He instinctively fell back to his crouched stance, holding his knees and closing his eyes.

"Where are we? Is this Heaven's Shelter?" Rolce asked, eyes darting.

"Of course it is! Welcome, boys, to the home of the Renegades, now your home too. We'll go ahead and touch down and get you two situated. You know, protocols and such, blah blah . . . then we'll get some grub! The chefs have been hard at work preparing for the best barbeque you’ve ever had!" Falcon exclaimed.

The ground looked increasingly welcoming as Falcon lowered them to the entrance. Overhead, a sign in huge, flaming letters in all the colors of the elements read, “Heaven’s Shelter, Welcome Home!" Falcon melted away the bindings on Gisbo and Rolce's feet, freeing them to step onto solid ground. Rolce collapsed with a wheeze, looking just as happy as Gisbo had been zooming around in the sky earlier.

Falcon refastened the two skeets to his back and disengaged his essence. He then looked at his recruits and stretched out his arms under the sign with a grand flourish, as if to say, "viola!"

"Home sweet home! Now if you would just follow me," Falcon said as he spun around with a whirl of his cape and began making his way under the fire-lit sign. Rolce and Gisbo exchanged grins of anticipation as they followed Falcon, taking their first steps into Heaven’s Shelter. It amazed Gisbo that just a hundred yards back they would be in a freezing cold, snow-filled mountain range. How they maintained this atmosphere he had no idea, but he figured he would learn soon enough. They walked upon neat cobblestone roads surrounded by palm trees. Exotic flowers grew at their roots and filled the air with pleasant, sweet smells that Gisbo’s nose had never witnessed before. Past the flowers and the trees however, Gisbo noticed animals of all kinds running about freely, animals he had only seen pictures of. Monkeys cooed and bounced through the branches. Brightly colored parrots squawked in greeting and even bears and tigers walked side by side, eyeing Gisbo’s group suspiciously.

Now getting near the main section of the city, Gisbo saw people walking to and fro, tending to the enchanting scenery. One man was spraying a watery mist over the plants through a ring on his finger. He waved at Falcon as they passed. The whole scene reminded Gisbo of Warlord Karm’s castle earlier that day, however, here, everything seemed so different. Unlike Karm’s place, Heaven’s Shelter did not feel artificial at all. If anything, it felt natural, right. In his wildest dreams, Gisbo could never have known such a place existed and the thought that this was to be his new home didn’t fully register.

They continued walking and Rolce pointed to a towering pole. Atop the pole, a great ball of swirling fire spun. A man beneath it was using a red ring on his finger to keep it powered up. The ball began glowing brighter until it shone like a miniature sun. Falcon noticed Rolce and Gisbo staring at it with curiosity.

"Don’t stare at that too long, boys. You’ll burn out your retinas! Oh, what’s this? It seems I’ve found some more speeches in my pockets. Lucky you! Those fireballs are known as dwarf suns and harnessing their energy is a Flarian technique. You'll find many all about the grounds. They allow us to regulate our own climate so that nearly all forms of life thrive: plants, animals, you name it," Falcon explained, then pointed up into the sky and continued.

"That bubbly energy field we traveled through earlier acts both as a visual shield and as a way to contain this wonderful weather. Every race is required and needed to keep this place functioning. Flarians provide the warmth, Soarians provide the atmosphere, Aquarians provide periodic rain and manage the water supply, and the Naforians provide our plants, landscaping and dwellings. Amazing, is it not? This is the perfect place for us Flarians, since most of us left our old homes in the outer deserts to come here. The last place you would expect a Flarian to be, after all, would be somewhere cold and Karm’s men are still trying to round up the remnants of our society by scouring the deserts of Flaria. There are of course a few stubborn sorts who still live out there, my brother for one, but the general populace now dwell here in the cold winter mountains of Heaven’s Shelter." Falcon radiated pride for his homeland.

Gisbo and Rolce bobbed their heads and turned in all directions, trying to take everything in. As they continued their stroll, Gisbo saw a group of Renegades seated at a table playing some sort of card game. It was Poka, a game Gisbo knew well. The only way he got any cash back at Oak County was through gambling and not too often as he had rotten luck. He noticed that some at the table were not dressed the same way as Falcon. They were all wearing the same headbands and the same color combinations, but some bandana tails were much longer than others. The uniforms were different too. A few sported short, sleeveless robes of varying lengths under the conventional Renegade poncho and others wore masks that covered the lower portion of their faces that extended from their ponchos. The tattooed markings on their arms also ranged widely. Some only had a marking on their forearm and mid-arm, while others were fully emblazoned all the way up their arms.

"Hey, Falcon, why are there different Renegade outfits? Some of their markings are different too," Rolce asked. Falcon turned to see where Rolce was looking before he stopped and responded.

"Ah, well, there are three classes of Renegade, determined by natural talent and skill. The first, oldest and most commonly seen is known as the ‘Berserker Class,’ my class. Our talents are all well-rounded and balanced in close quarter combat, employment of technique and some distance fighting. We are usually a wild bunch and primarily make the enemy focus their attack on us. We train our bodies to be able to withstand major damage and we learn to focus our adrenaline so that it grows more and more powerful as our fury and pain heighten. Anybody can lash out in a rage. To control it and harness it is something else entirely. A Flarian is especially suited for the Berserker class, but with the perpetual expansion of techniques and powers, every race has proven their potential for this class," Falcon answered, then pointed at one of the seated men who was garbed in robes.

"In recent years we have added two new classes to the Renegade roster. The one in the robe-like uniform is known as the ‘Nazarite Class,’ our newest class. These guys are pure genius. They train their minds and cultivate knowledge even more than physical prowess. That is not to say that they can't take a hit or two in close quarter combat. Everyone trains in each area to the point of proficiency before choosing the path that suits their talents best, focusing there, and excelling above and beyond typical human capabilities. These guys can make your head spin with their intelligence as well as raw power. Most argue it is the Nazarite who triumphs in one on one combat, but I've yet to see it proven," Falcon said, as if thinking of a certain time he had dueled one. He then pointed to the masked people.

"Now if you want intimidation and fear, look no further then these guys. They are part of the ‘Shininja Class,’ fast, agile and deceptive. If you give these guys an opening, they will have you chopped, diced and shredded within seconds in close quarter combat. The Shininja focus on nothing but speed, power and technique as they train their minds to balance with their body. You'll never find a more reserved individual. They are but polar opposites of the Berserker Class, for Shininja's are notoriously serious and masters of both patience and battle strategy. Experts of many disciplines including acrobatics, poisons, hand to hand combat and dagger use, their special skill set is essential as they tend to suffer more from hits because their bodies are suited to speed and stealth rather than bulk. They follow the philosophy, 'You can't hit what you can't see.' They aren’t distance fighters, but they can wait for days on end for the perfect opening and make ideal assassins." While Falcon continued, the boys ate up his every word, slowly moving past the table, staring at the citizens of Heaven's Shelter. Gisbo noticed the other Renegades explaining the same things to their recruits.

"Now that that’s all covered, I'll explain about the Renegades themselves. We may have different classes within our league, but we are still bound by one common name, along with all it represents and upholds. You may have noticed by looking around that some bandana tails are longer then others. You may have also realized that the markings on their arms tend to differ as well. All these differences come down to one thing: rank. The longer the uniforms, capes and bandana tails, along with the size and number of tattoos, represents the strength of the Renegade and where he stands in his training. You two are not deemed Renegades yet, nor will you be for some time," Falcon said as he continued talking without looking back.

"But I thought you said . . ." Gisbo began to protest. Falcon raised his hand to command silence, still refusing to face the recruits.

"Renega, Renegara and finally, Renegade. These are the three titles given to you upon completions in your notches. You two have completed your first trials and will be deemed official Renegas at a ceremony to take place soon. For Renegara, you must complete the three notches in Renega, and to meet the requirements for full Renegade status, you must complete the three notches in Renegara. With me so far?" Falcon finally turned around, still walking. Gisbo and Rolce both nodded.

"Good," Falcon continued. “Within each of these prestigious levels, you will receive three tattoos. Within Renega, upon completing your first notch, you will receive a simple black band around your forearm. Upon completion of notch number two, you will receive another black band on the middle of your arm, and upon notch number three's completion, you will receive another around the top, near your shoulder. Once you have all three, you will move onto your next title, Renegara. Here is where you will begin to study within your classes. You will be designated a Class Master and it’s here that the markings will differ from each other and each notch completed will start at the bottom of your arm and move upward. By training in this fashion, your arm will serve as a constant reminder of your trials to bring you confidence, let others acknowledge your strength, and show your commitment to the Renegades," Falcon explained with a touch of pride in his voice. Gisbo and Rolce both noticed the tattoos emblazoned on Falcon's arm, covered with intricate black designs.

"Also, with each completed stage, your outfits will change. Renegas wear traditional headbands with miniscule tails and a simple poncho, all clean-cut with solid colors and a short scarf. When you gain the title of Renegara, your headband will have short tails, your poncho will have a short cape with jagged edges attached and the color white will be added to your uniform. Upon earning the full title of Renegade, you will don the true garb of the Renegade: long bandana tails, caped poncho with tattered edges around the front and back and the iconic light blue color will be added to the designs across the uniform. When you complete the three notches of Renegade status, only then may you have the color black grace your uniforms. Like mine, for instance," Falcon stated, striking a pose.

Their little group had reached what looked like the center of town. They could now see the huge golden statue of the lone Renegade Warrior and the black needle-like tower behind him. It was this monument that Gisbo wanted an explanation of. This man looked like the ultimate warrior. The statue was even more detailed up close and looked as if it could come to life at any moment. The scars stretched vividly now across the man's proud face and his neat chinstrap beard and thin mustache were precisely rendered. His hair was like a flowing mane, thick and long. His face was frozen in intense excitement, as if he was about to land the final blow to his enemy. The man looked wild and would have been terrifying if it weren't for his quiet eyes. Gisbo reckoned they must have been a soft shade of blue in person.

The man's uniform looked a lot like Falcon's except that it had further intricate designs and some sort of a light armor chest plate and leggings. It was then Gisbo observed how long his bandana tails were. They nearly touched the ground. He hadn't noticed before, being up in the air, but by his side was a large fearsome lion, looking like the man's wild persona incarnate. Gisbo and Rolce didn’t move as they gazed with the rest of the boys and girls who had joined their little group. Falcon was beaming, watching the kids gaze at the statue. He cleared his throat and began to explain just who this man was.