Renegade Rupture (52 page)

“Sybil energy . . .” Purah said. He looked through the sea of black at a golden figure in a meditative position, rising up into the air, wrapped in a shining gold aura. More golden globes popped up around certain Renegades, stemming and blocking the flowing sea of black like stepping stones in a raging river.

“What is he . . .” Purah started.

“It seems our final battle with the Renegades will not end here. Just like the last time, they’ve done it again. They’ve activated Code Risinyu,” Drakearon said.

Rolce Moordin, his Boon form unavailable to him now, was lost in a sea of black. The only indication of his fellow Renegades were colored lights that were disappearing all around him at an alarming rate. He knew it was only a matter of time before something snuck around his swirling staff and landed a killing blow.

Then, suddenly, he found himself encased in a glowing, golden globe of energy that he recognized as Sybil energy.

As far as he could tell, he couldn’t pierce through it, but neither could the scratching Drakelings and Drakeknights on the other side. He was trapped. Unbeknownst to him, several of his comrades across the battlefield were trapped also.

The next moment he was forced into a Mind-Link and brought to a place where time did not flow or exist.

Rolce found himself standing at the gates of Heaven’s Shelter, looking up at the glowing entrance sign that said in the colors of all four elements, “Welcome Home.”

But he was not alone.

Standing beside him was Anaka Laurin, Crass Bastio, Glinda Bicknill, Grandfield Groggo, Niffin Roarie, Whip Miles, and Rake Lokin. They all looked at one another in utmost confusion.

“What the hell is this? Where the hell are we?” Crass stammered.

“Mind-Link, but this feels different than before,” Whip said.

“Your extraordinary senses are correct, Whip Miles,” Sybil Honj said. All their Class Masters, mothers, and fathers appeared before them in a straight line.

“What, what is going on? Gisbo! Where’s Gisbo!? He, he,” Grandfield started, only to be interrupted by Glinda.

“HE KILLED ASHLIN! HE,” Glinda started.

“He killed all those Renegades! He, he,” Anaka started.

“No, no, he did not. Drakearon killed Ashlin. Drakearon killed all of those Renegades. Gisbo was the unfortunate weapon carrying it out. His mind, his will was not his own,” Sybil Honj said. “Right now, I cannot sense him or his father. Somehow, Falcon resisted me again. He should be here. His stubbornness knows no bounds; he . . .”

“He has a reason, he must,” Moordin said.

“His essence, no offense to you all, cannot afford to be lost. Pieces of Vadid himself lay within him. Already Drakearon’s army has taken Bastio’s essence, Ernie’s, Dave’s, Ashlin’s parents, and countless others. It was not his call to make. He knows how sacred Code Risinyu is,” Sybil Honj said bitterly.

“Code Risinyu?” Rolce asked.

“Risinyu, the Flarian word for ‘rebirth.’ The reason we are here. This is no mere linking of the minds, but of the soul, the mind, and the body,” Sybil Honj said.

“Why do I not like the sound of this . . .” Whip said.

“Renegades, have you ever wondered why none of our masters are still alive?” Sybil Honj asked.

“They got old?” Grandfield stammered, just to break the tension.

“No, son. When the time came, those who were available activated Code Risinyu and passed on their essence to our generation. Our generation’s power is a combination of hundreds of warriors before you who, either at their death or at certain death, go through Risinyu, Rebirth. They pass on their essence, their power, to the next generation, to keep it from being lost. In our world energy cannot be created, nor destroyed, but it can be transferred, passed on. Now it is our turn to pass on not just our essence, but our life force . . . to all of you . . . the next generation,” Sybil Honj said.

The group fell silent.

“Like it or not, we are going to die out there. It is unavoidable. But all of you will live on, and our power, and the power of hundreds of Renegades before us, will live on, within you all. Our symbol is the Phoenix, the symbol of sacrifice for something far greater than ourselves, you all, and this world, only to rise from the ashes and rise stronger and higher than ever before!” Sybil Honj said.

There was silence.

“No doubt this is where Gisbo would shout something. Would anyone like to . . .” Sybil Honj started.

“What you’re saying is you’re going to kill yourselves! Kill yourselves over, over some stupid tradition? This is sick! This is weak! This is . . .” Grandfield started.

“This is necessary, son, and no, this is not suicide. I have protected you with an unbreakable Sybil field. When my mind breaks, it will break too. Each of you will watch as your Class Masters fight to their last breath taking out as many Drakelings, Drakeknights, whatever you want to call them, as they can. Their essence, now linked to you, will not be wasted. When we fall, and you absorb their energies, you will be transported away from the battle to safety. When it’s over, you must come together, as we did, to bring peace, real peace, back to this world,” Sybil Honj said, taking a deep breath.

“The time has come for our generation to step aside and for your generation to lead. The cycle continues, and with it, our power will be added to yours. It has been an honor, Renegades. Do not mourn us. Instead, carry us in your mind, body, and heart,” Narroway said, doing the traditional Renegade greeting. “It has been an honor serving with you. Goodbye, my friends, until we meet again.”

“Wait! WAIT!” Grandfield screamed, but it was too late.

“No . . .” Rolce said, placing his hands upon his golden cage, helpless to get out. “NO!”

Rolce saw his father and Moordin. The energy field blocked out everything else, only showing their battle. Back to back, they swung their Bo-staffs, expelling their Naforian energy outward, taking out everything in their way but for every destroyed monster, countless more took their places.

Rolce saw the two best friends glow a shade of green he had never seen before, and he knew they radiated not just their essence, but the essence of generations of Naforian Renegades as it leaked from them into Rolce’s golden globe, filling it.

Rolce felt the memories of hundreds of lives, then deaths, wash over him in a flash. The power and emotion was so great that he fell to the ground, but try as he might, he could not close his eyes. He was forced to watch his father and mentor give their lives so that he, and the rest of his generation, may live on.

He saw Moordin’s knees buckle as a creature severed his hamstring. Shax felt his friend slide down his back and reached down to catch him, only to get a scythe from a Drakeknight right into his gut.

Together they fell, hitting the ground, both of them staring at him. They smiled, and Moordin spoke, his voice filling Rolce’s golden globe.

“Rolce Moordin, I’m sorry it had to be this way. Looking at you, I see myself looking at my own master, Grandir Hapenstay. He probably saw himself too as his master sacrificed himself so the line of essence, and power, would not be wasted, would not be lost. Rolce, I will never forget the day you first walked into Heaven’s Shelter. It took all I could to hide my excitement. I couldn’t show you how much I favored you then; it wouldn’t have been good for you. You were too talented as it was. Now, now I can,” Moordin said.

“We both can, son. Thank you for not giving up on me. You freed me from a torment you couldn’t possibly imagine, and I hope you never do. Rolce, if your mother was here, if she could look at you, no doubt she would come to tears. You have not only become the man I wished you to be, but you have become the man that I always wanted to be. Strong, patient, and kind. A holy trinity that will not only bless you, but all others who cross your path. Now go, be the man that this world needs you to be. I love you, son, more than you could ever know,” Shax said.

“Rolce, it’s up to you and Jackobi and Gisbo now. I know you’ll make us proud. Just know, above all else . . .” Moordin said. For the first time, Rolce saw tears pour from his mentor’s eyes, causing tears to well up in his own eyes.

“I love you.”

“No . . . please,” Rolce stammered. He watched as their eyes closed and they fell to the ground.

Chapter Thirty Seven:
Falcon’s Last Stand

On and on it went, Renegades falling in glowing piles. Their essence was no longer lost to the wind, but sent to the next generation of Renegades. Sybil Honj looked across the battlefield and saw the multitudes of black creatures stalling, frozen, trying to find targets that were no longer around. For a moment, there was peace in their confusion. Then he felt it, and saw, and heard a red spark out in the distance, fighting its way alone closer and closer to the ring where Drakearon, Gisbo, Purah, Ranto, and Lokin stood. His battlecry was legendary, his sword moved like a firebolt, and all fell before him as he fought his way through the black sea.

“Stubborn fool . . .” Sybil Honj said. He then felt his heart seize in his chest. He gripped his left pectoral and coughed up blood. Honj knew he wouldn’t survive Code Risinyu, but had it really passed so quickly? He surveyed the glowing golden globes and breathed a deep sigh. This was it. His last bit of power was gone. He would have to use his soul energy to send the surviving Renegades to safety.

He took the last breath he would ever have in the mortal world, filled up his lungs, enjoying every bit of it. He held it, focused his mind, and pushed the remaining Renegades away to safety, leaving only one, the most stubborn and tenacious of all, to carry on the Renegade battle cry.

“Look at him! Still he fights, even when all others have fallen. He is so close to becoming mine again, Purah, I can feel it.” Drakearon said. “We must at least try.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Purah said. Drakearon ignored him and held up his hand. The multitude of black creatures stopped their attack and backed away from Falcon Vadid, the last Renegade still able to swing a sword.

The creatures formed lines on each side of Falcon, giving him a direct and clear path straight to Drakearon.

Falcon gazed up at the one man besides Vadid himself who had such a huge effect upon his life with an intense, unwavering stare.

“Falcon Vadid, my friend, my greatest weapon . . . come forward. You will not be harmed,” Drakearon said.

“I can’t say the same for you,” Falcon snapped. Lokin stepped forward with his daggers, offended, but Drakearon held up an arm, stalling him.

“Easy, now,” Drakearon said.

“Excuse me for questioning you, but honestly, Falcon Vadid is nothing more than a loud mouthed, blithering idiot. Why? Why do you uphold him with such favor?” Lokin asked.

“Because, unlike you, he has never cared what I, nor anyone, has ever thought of him. His tenacity is like an element itself and that tenacity has been passed on into his son. They are a precious resource, an extinct stock, mayhap the last of their kind. They cannot afford to be wasted,” Drakearon said.

“He comes,” Purah said. He was correct. Falcon had sheathed his blade and now walked toward them as snipping and snapping black monsters were held at bay by Drakearon’s power.

A few moments later, Falcon stepped up onto the ring and stood before his former master.

“Look around you at the faces of these Drakeknights, my son, my greatest champion. Ask them how they feel, now that they have perfect peace and purpose through my power. Ask them,” Drakearon started, but Falcon ignored him, and instead, bent down, and cradled his only son in his arms, waking him.

“Hey, son,” Falcon said, smiling.

“Da, Dad?” Gisbo said, weakly.

“It’s okay now; I’m here,” Falcon said. Tears burst from Gisbo’s eyes.

“Dad, Dad, I messed up, oh, I messed up so badly, I . . . I . . .” Gisbo stammered, shaking all over, on the verge of another panic attack. Falcon shushed him and held him close, digging his son’s face in his chest.

“Shush, son, hey, hey, look at me,” Falcon said, lifting his son’s face up. Falcon looked into the eyes of his wife and the eyes of Vadid. “None of this, none of this at all, was your fault.”

“But, but it was! I should have listened to you, I should have smoked those cigars when you told me, I should have not lost control, I,” Gisbo stammered.

“No, son. Listen carefully to me. I’m about to do something really, really stupid. Even moreso than Code Risinyu,” Falcon started.

“Code, Risinyu?” Gisbo asked.

“You’ll hear all about it soon enough. But even with their power passed down, this army is enough to wipe them, and everyone on Thera, out in a blink. None of you are ready for this. So rather than my essence, I’m going to give you something far more precious. I’m going to give you all time,” Falcon said.

“How?” Gisbo asked.

“By giving my essence, not to you, but to them . . .” Falcon said, looking up at the three men standing over them.

“You know how much I hate it when you’re vague,” Gisbo said. Falcon laughed.

“Oh, son. I’m going to miss you so much. Your mother, oh, your mother, if only she could see you now. If only,” Falcon started.