Renegade Rising (The Renegade Series) (6 page)

“‘His weapon of choice is a blade not long enough to be a sword, but too long to be considered a dagger, giving him an equal balance in offense and defense. It does not have a name as he fashioned it himself . . .’” Sid said, readjusting his glasses again. Mort pointed to the man on the far right.

“What does it say about Captain Cannon?” Mort asked. Sid began flipping through some pages and finally stopped.

“Mmmm, here it is! It says that he’s a powerful user of the earth element from the Naforian race and is also a biological anomaly. He’s a short man by the standards, but weighs three times as much as a man his height should. Weird, huh?” Sid asked. Sid’s friend stared at Cannon with a nervous glare.

“Don’t let him hear you say that. What’s he do?” Mort asked. Sid returned his finger to the page and began to read again.

“‘What Cannon lacks in speed, he compensates for with power and defense. His weapon of choice is also of his own creation. A thick steel baton with two large block hammers on each side of it that he calls the Ham-Pole,’” Sid said.

“That’s pretty lame.” Mort muttered quietly. Sid continued reading.

“‘When holding his Ham-Pole, Cannon can undergo an instant photosynthesis to grow his body larger at will by absorbing solar energy like a plant. He can also absorb the properties of any stone substance around him and emulate it, making his skin quite literally rock hard like an impenetrable armor. Many blades have been broken against his body.’ Jeesh, this guy’s crazy,” Sid exclaimed. Mort smiled.

“Sure they are, but they are both minor league compared to the guy in the middle. What does it say about General Ricard?” Mort asked with his arms folded. Sid smiled as he flipped through some more pages then stopped.

“‘A natural born fighter and second in command only to Warlord Karm, Ricard is said to be so powerful that none have ever witnessed him at his true strength. It is also common knowledge among the soldiers that Ricard can trounce both his Elekai’ Elite members with ease,’” Sid said, going bug eyed.

“Cripes,” Mort muttered. Sid continued.

“‘He’s a water user from the Aquarian race. Ricard’s basic abilities are the ablility to draw moisture from both the ground and the air and freeze them. From here, these droplets are morphed into any shape desired, ranging from daggers to arrows. Eyewitnesses have seen him send such shapes in countless numbers straight through opponents with ease. This is but his basic technique. It is said his real powers have yet to be shown to anyone,’” Sid said, looking up. Mort laughed.

“Told you the guy was incredible. What’s his weapon?” Mort said. Sid returned his gaze to his book.

“‘His weapon of choice and source of power is a unique sword very similar to that of a fencer, the gentleman’s weapon; quick, agile and cunning. Traits that personify Ricard perfectly,’” Sid finished.

Gisbo stared at Ricard who kept signing autographs with a shimmering smile. As much as Gisbo hated Ricard’s offspring, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the general. If anything, Ricard was Gisbo’s favorite.

A few more minutes passed and it was now Gisbo’s turn to sign up. He stood under the gaze of the living legends for a good ten awkward seconds, unable to utter a syllable. Ricard cleared his throat impatiently at Gisbo. On either side of him, Scarrr and Cannon were busy with other children.

“Well, son, do you have a name or are you here to waste my time?” Ricard asked.

Gisbo bit his lip and he said his name in nervous shame. Gisbo didn’t know why, but Ricard’s eyes seemed to light up upon hearing his name.

“Gisbo, you say?” Ricard asked.

“Yes, sir,” replied Gisbo.

“Surname?” Ricard asked.

“I have none . . .” Gisbo answered, feeling uncomfortable at the way Ricard was staring at him. Ricard knew he didn’t have a surname, but he played along anyway and forced an air of disinterest.

“Wait now, I know of you. I trust your food shipments from the castle have been arriving on schedule? If you have any further complaints, you may put them in writing and you should receive a response within five days or so,” Ricard said, testing him, with a feigned seriousness. Gisbo looked at him oddly before answering, wondering what was with the sudden change in demeanor.

“I’m here for the same reason as everyone else, sir, to be an Elekai' warrior,” Gisbo stated, matching Ricard's seriousness.

Needless to say, the respect Gisbo had for General Ricard faded in an instant. The General burst into laughter, along with a good portion of the crowd around him. Even the notoriously serious Scarrr couldn’t help a half smile. Gisbo clenched his fist in anger, wanting to wallop them all, but managed to refrain himself. He was not going to blow his chances, let alone risk dying by fighting the Elkai’ Elite.

“Now, now, everyone, calm yourselves. We will give this boy the same chance as everyone else to try his or her skill. Even if he comes from no reliable lineage, we have no idea if his essence has potential . . . Well son, I will add you to the list. It will be up to you to keep it there. Based on your history, I am already colored unimpressed. You are going to have to do much to catch my attention, understand?” Ricard said in a condescending tone, implying that Gisbo should stop kidding himself. He really hoped that Gisbo would turn around and go home, but he didn’t, much to the disappointment of Ricard. He couldn’t outright insult the boy in front of all these people.

“Yes, sir,” said Gisbo through gritted teeth and for a moment, he could see the face of Thomson in General Ricard's features.

“Good. Tryouts begin in ten minutes. Prepare yourself,” Ricard said. Gisbo spun around to walk away, followed by Mort and Sid.

“Hey, dog boy, why don’t you just go get a real job? This isn’t the place for a scrub like you,” taunted Mort. Both the boys rushed past him, laughing. Finally losing control, Gisbo found himself grabbing the back of Mort’s shirt collar and unleashed a wicked punch to the back of his head. Mort went crashing to the ground. Sid looked from his fallen friend, then to Gisbo and began to run away.

“Where you think you’re goin’, four-eyes?” Gisbo yelled as he tackled Sid to the ground. In his rage, Gisbo had forgotten his surroundings. He was no longer in the back woods. Other kids and even parents began to grab hold of him and rip him off the two boys.

The parents used more force than was required to restrain Gisbo, throwing him to the ground and kicking him while yelling degrading remarks that rivaled the school kids. Gisbo felt a chill. He looked up through hazy vision at the three members of the Elekai’ Elite standing over him.

“On your feet, son,” Ricard said with a stern air to his voice. The parents hoisted Gisbo upward as Sid and Mort squirmed away, unnoticed. For a moment Ricard only stared in frigid silence.

“When I said impress me, this is not what I meant. However, I appreciate the effort. Let the boy be. Ten minutes now!” he yelled to the onlookers. Ricard spun around and walked back to the tables, leaving a bewildered Gisbo and angry parents in his wake. The crowd began to disperse, for nobody dared challenge the authority of the Elekai’ Elite. Gisbo watched them retreat with thankfulness and noticed the Elekai’ Elite whispering to each other on the way back to the table.
Nice job, Gisbo,
Gisbo thought as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Trying to keep a lower profile, he made his way over to the training grounds, attempting to walk off the newest aches and pains.
Why can’t I control my stupid self?
Gisbo thought. He had assumed his reputation would at least signify that he was not one to be messed with. At this rate, it seemed like he would have to beat down every kid in town just to earn a shred of peace.

After every participant was checked in, Cannon, Scarrr and Ricard all made their way to the castle front. The three men formed a triangle and stood at ease. The soldiers around them saluted as their general walked forward to face them and the crowd.

“Hello and welcome, young men and young ladies, to the chance of a lifetime! May I personally welcome you all to the youth army tryouts! Here you will work and train under the best of the best, including the Elekai’ Elite!” he shouted. Thunderous cheers erupted from the crowd at the mention of the Elekai’ Elite.

“However, this is still but a chance. I see before me almost two hundred contenders. Out of you, only a mere thirty will proceed. We will put all of you through rigorous tests that will challenge your skill, your strength and also your mind. All of these must work precisely and be equally strong before you even hold an elemental stone in your hands. Even then, you may not have enough elemental essence floating within you to be accepted, but one thing is certain. If you cannot first prove yourself a fighter, essence or not, you have no chance at being an Elekai’ Warrior. By observing these tests you are about to partake in, we can determine your potential. Bring your families honor and make your Warlord proud! Let us begin!” General Ricard shouted.

On Ricard’s signal, the soldiers began to divide the participants into three groups. Once they were aligned in an orderly fashion, General Ricard spoke again.

“Now that we are all settled in, let us begin with the preliminaries. The rules are very simple. You must pass two of the three tests to move on. If you fail to do so, you go home. The first test will measure your strength, for what is a weapon without strength to back it up? The second test concerns your skill with a weapon. And the third will measure the speed of your mind as well as your eyes. At the first trial, there will be three soldiers, each of them wielding a large padded shield. They will stand in a line, evenly spaced from each other. On either side of them lie two boundary lines. Your goal is to run from the starting position and past the guards without being bumped out of bounds.” General Ricard said in a demanding tone. The children glanced at each other nervously.

“For the weapon test, you will be equipped with a humble training stick. Everyone you see here has trained with these sticks before a real weapon graced their palms. You will be no different. This test involves another three soldiers, but in this case they are unarmed. On each of these soldiers, an apple hangs from a different vital point of the body. The first soldier, as you see, has his apple hanging in front of his heart; the second, his head; and the third, his throat. Your mission is to knock away and obliterate these apples in three minutes - one minute for each soldier if it's done correctly. The men may move, but they will not attack you, only defend themselves. To be a successful soldier, you
must
have the ability to strike a vital area when the time arrives.” The children nodded in response.

“And for the last test, there sits a soldier by the name of Blur. He is graced with such a name because he is arguably the fastest man in all of Karm’s kingdom, after Captain Scarrr of course. If Scarrr ran this test, it would not be fair to any of you!” Ricard said. Cheers erupted upon hearing Scarrr’s name.

“Blur’s reflexes are uncanny and what he lacks in power he doubles in speed. There are ten pots and under one of those pots is a pebble. The test is simple enough. The pebble will be placed under a random pot in plain sight. Blur will then begin to shuffle the pots around the table and when he is finished, you must guess which pot the pebble lies under. There are ten pots, so if you lose sight of the pot for any reason, you have a 10% chance of guessing correctly. What you can’t make up in skill, you better be able to make up with luck. Some have it, some don’t. Now! You have heard the rules of all three tests, good luck to you all. I am eager to see the results! Let the games begin!” finished General Ricard and he made his way to the observation balcony with his two comrades.

The soldiers began to lead the groups to different sections of the courtyard to begin their tests. Gisbo looked around at his group. There were about seventy kids in all. He began to think about what a small amount would make it. A nervous rush of doubt started to sink in, but he knew he had to fight it. This was all he had. There was no plan B. All of his eggs had gone into one basket.

The other kids around him jumped up and down with excitement, talking to each other and bragging to their friends about who would pass and who wouldn’t. Gisbo looked ahead to see which test the soldiers were leading him to. He could see a large table with ten clay pots upon it. Gisbo’s first test would be the eye test.

Everyone watched as Blur made his way to the large table and called forth his first contestant. It was Thomson. The General’s son would not have to wait in line. He would probably be the first for every test he took, Gisbo assumed. Either way, Gisbo was thrilled to find out he was in the same group as Thomson. He wanted to see the little butt nugget fail miserably. Thomson approached the table with an arrogant, assured smile. As always, his minions cheered him on, doing their Black Wolf Pack cheer.
Awwwooo! Awwwooo!
Gisbo cringed at the sound. In their own little world, they may have thought they sounded like wolves, but to Gisbo and many others, they sounded like coyotes with a bad case of the runs.

“All right, let’s get this thing over with. Show me what you got, Blur boy!” Thomson sneered. Blur cracked a sly grin and looked down at the pots.

“Watch closely and we will see just who the boy is,” Blue replied. He held up the pebble for Thomson to see and then placed it underneath one of the pots.

“Are you ready?” Blur asked. Thomson nodded and Blur cracked his knuckles, placed his hands on two of the pots and began shuffling them about the table. He shuffled them slowly at first, and then, in a breath’s pause, Blur’s hands started to move back and forth and up and down, touching all the pots and moving them about with blinding speed. Thomson’s head darted back and forth for a quick instant and then stopped as the pots continued to speed in front of him. He threw his hands into the air with a frustrated curse.