Renegade Rupture (8 page)

“Drakeness . . . here? Oh, oh no, FAO! FAO!” Gisbo yelled as he ran to his white wolf who, rather than standing upon her tall rock, happy to greet him, was draped over one side of it. Her white coat was bloodied and marred with blackness. Her chest rose and fell unnaturally, and with every breath, she squeaked with pain. Gisbo wrapped his Boon, the guardian of his inner world, up in his arms.

“Fao . . . Fao, please, speak to me, girl, come on,” Gisbo said, rocking her and feeling his eyes begin to water. A single tear dripped down his cheek and onto Fao’s head.

“Hello . . . my . . . my boy,” Fao said weakly. “I’m fine, I really am.”

“No, no, you’re not. This is because of me, isn’t it? All of this?” Gisbo asked.

“NO!” Fao shouted before erupting into fierce coughs.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, girl, come on now,” Gisbo said.

“No, no, you mustn’t ever blame yourself. This is not you. This was pre-ordained. The enemy is here, already within you. I’ve done what I can to help you, anything and all, but the black things, they attack me. Soon those that I killed will respawn, back to do it again in an endless cycle. Gisbo, this path you are on, you MUST change it, or soon they will overwhelm me and take me by sheer numbers. Then you will be lost forever,” Fao said.

“I won’t let that happen. I can’t . . .” Gisbo said, “ . . . but, how do I stop this?”

“There is a vision. Seek out Rolce, ask him about the vision, and most importantly, beware of, of . . .” Fao said.

“What?” Gisbo asked.

“You must distance yourself from Nina. You do not belong together. I don’t care what she’s told you, you mustn’t. You must break away,” Fao said.

“Fao, I . . . I can’t do that. I . . . I . . .” Gisbo said.

“Love her?” Fao asked.

“I, I don’t know,” Gisbo said.

“But you can’t say it? Even to me?” Fao asked.

Gisbo was silent.

“Then you truly don’t,” Fao said. “I know this will be hard, for both of you, but it must be done. You must distance your feelings. If you don’t, it could cause a series of events that you will not come back from. You trusted me once before, Gisbo. Please, trust me again. When you’re together, because of, because of who she is, it . . . this darkness inside you, it’s a part of it, and if you don’t control it . . .” Fao said.

“I don’t know what it is. Every time I’m around Nina, I get this unpleasantness flowing through me. Why, Fao? All was fine before the Drakeness,” Gisbo said.

“You will learn why in your own time,” Fao said. “For now, trust me. I have no reason to lead you astray.”

“I will, Fao, and I do. I . . . Look at this place. Please say I can make this better?” Gisbo asked.

“You can, but it will take time,” Fao said.

“Then I won’t come back until I do. I make my stand here. I will prepare for this tournament and win and stop whatever is coming by my own hands,” Gisbo said.

“Gisbo, hold on to your fighting spirit,” Fao said. “I don’t just believe you can, I know you can, and you will. I love you, Gisbo. Come back to me safe and sound.”

“I will, girl. I love you too,” Gisbo said as he held his wolf tightly. The world dissolved around him and he found himself standing back on his front porch with Fao by his side again, fur white as snow. Gisbo bent down and gave his wolf another hug and she lapped him fiercely.

“What are you doing up so late?” Rolce asked as he walked out of the front door, rubbing his eyes, clad in his underwear.

“I should be asking you that,” Gisbo said.

“Well, someone flashed his ring so brightly it lit up the place. You know I’m not a sound sleeper,” Rolce said.

“A fart in the breeze could wake you up,” Gisbo said.

“One of your farts? It could wake the dead,” Rolce said. Gisbo smiled at the joke as he sat down.

“Rolce, Fao just told me something. She told me about a vision you had about me. What did you see?” Gisbo asked. Rolce was taken aback and the shock on his face showed. He joined Gisbo, sat across from him, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t feel right about you touching me while in your undies,” Gisbo said. Rolce quickly pulled back. “Put a pillow over that thing. I don’t want you getting all excited and poking me.”

Rolce quickly took a wicker furniture pillow and put it over his lap.

“Must you make a joke of everything?”

“Yes,” Gisbo said.

“Well, I’ve been thinking long and hard about what to tell you about this,” Rolce said. Gisbo giggled.

“I bet you have . . .” Gisbo said, laughing, and soon they both were laughing, laughing like they used to.

“I’ve missed being able to laugh like that. You seem to be doing a lot better. I’m glad. It’s like I’m talking to my friend again, and based on what I’ve seen, that comforts me.”

“How come?” Gisbo asked.

“You want to know what I saw?” Rolce asked.

“Hit me,” Gisbo said.

“What I saw is something that will take place in the future. I first thought a Sybil’s power was different, that I could only see something going on in the present. That may be true, but through a certain ritual, I went beyond my powers and saw something down the line. We were in the middle of battle, hopelessly outnumbered by an unknown enemy, and there you were, leading us, laughing like a maniac, just as you did now, and you lead us to victory,” Rolce said.

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that today. Jeesh, do I really look like a maniac when I’m fighting?” Gisbo asked.

“Yes, yes, you do, but what I saw, I just know it’s going to come true,” Rolce said.

“You sure it wasn’t just a wet dream? I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Gisbo asked. Rolce got up out of his chair, rolling his eyes, and walked back inside.

“Hey! Come on, man, I’m just messing! It’s how I deal with things that heavy. Come on, don’t be so sensitive,” Gisbo said, following Rolce inside.

“Nope, good night, that’s the last time I tell you anything,” Rolce said.

“If we cuddled, would it make it better?” Gisbo asked.

“GOOD NIGHT!” Rolce yelled.

“For the love of everything holy, Rolce! SHUT THE HELL UP!” Jackobi said.

“But I . . .” Rolce stammered.

“Yeah, shut up, Rolce,” Gisbo snickered. A few minutes later, Gisbo heard Rolce snoring away again and thought about Fao’s warning to stay away from Nina. He thought about what happened the last time he didn’t listen to Fao. He had gotten his shoulder torn and permanently damaged.

“Damn it . . .” Gisbo said, unsure of what to do. He decided that he would take a walk into the commons and see if anyone was up.

“Come on, girl, let’s go for a walky, ok? Wanna go for a walky?” Gisbo asked, rubbing Fao behind the ears. She quickly spun around three times in excitement, and they went down their spiral staircase.

Gisbo lit his ring to light their path as they walked through the forest together. Upon arriving in the commons, there was still a bustle of activity and a few poka games going on. Better yet, there wasn’t a green clad Strife to be found. Gisbo searched around to see if he recognized anyone. He smiled when a boy with a bandana wrapped around his eyes, rather than his forehead, called him over.

“Whip Miles, how ya doing, buddy?” Gisbo asked as he sat down across from him. “How’d ya know it was me?”

“Everyone has their own distinct smell. A deodorant, an aftershave, a perfume, a sullen musk. Then, there’s you. A mix of wet dog and someone who likes to scratch their ass,” Whip said.

“Hilarious,” Gisbo responded.

“Only when I’m not joking apparently,” Whip said.

“Hmph,” Gisbo said.

“Hmph? That’s all I get in return? Rumors are true. You haven’t been yourself lately,” Whip said. “I haven’t had much time to catch up after, well, what happened. How are you?”

“I’m doing fine, Whip. I appreciate the concern,” Gisbo said.

“She saved us all, Gisbo. Every day since, I’ve regretted not even knowing the woman, a woman who gave up her own life so that thousands may live,” Whip said.

“Yeah. So, what are you doing up so late?” Gisbo asked.

“Eh, what’s night and day to a blind kid? To be honest, I live for this time of night. With my senses, during the day, everything just comes at me all at once. It’s hard to focus. This time of night though, when all the hustle of the city is gone, a stray cricket chirping, a frog croaking, a wolf howling, it’s like no orchestra I’ve heard. It puts me in the perfect state of peace before I drift off into sleep. Besides, peace and quiet is a necessity when you live with someone like Crass. Guy plays Phoenix Force at all times of day as if it’s going out of style,” Whip said.

“That’s understandable,” Gisbo said.

“It’s been even worse since the fighting. We, we killed, Gisbo. People, like you and me.” Whip said. “I think Crass throws himself into the chaotic music to keep from thinking about it. Do you think, do you think it’s something that we will ever get used to? Killing? And what, now with this supposed coming war . . .”

“What do you think about it?” Gisbo asked.

“Me? I think this whole tournament is a joke. The battle will happen as soon as this mystery peace treaty is absolved. Either way, whoever wins, there is going to be a battle for this place, a battle between the greatest warriors this planet has to offer. That is why I’m out here. When life is good, Gizzy, when you have peace, you shouldn’t just try to enjoy it, you NEED to enjoy it, because tommorow, it could end. I have no regrets. Maybe not being able to see anymore has made life simpler, rather than harder,” Whip said.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Whip, how did you lose your sight?” Gisbo asked.

“I don’t mind. It was a long time ago. Why don’t I just show you? Don’t throw up now. I know you have a bad habit of that,” Whip said. As he spoke, he untied the bandana covering his eyes and let it drop to the table. Gisbo didn’t feel sick, he only felt a deep sadness and care for his friend, whose eyes were nothing more than scalded, black, grisly skin stretched across his face.

“Is that, is that a burn? Damn, Whip, I had no idea. I’m, I’m sorry,” Gisbo said.

“I don’t like showing people, only because I get that same answer. ‘I’m sorry.’ I told you back then, I saw everything I needed to see. Personally, I’m sorry for people like you, especially with what you might have seen in that battle. Images that I can only imagine, images that won’t haunt me at night,” Whip said.

“How did it happen?” Gisbo asked.

“Well, you may not have realized it, but I used to be quite a jerk,” Whip said.

“Never would have guessed,” Gisbo said, smiling. Whip laughed.

“Anyway, I grew up in Aquaria. I didn’t have a rough childhood. I wasn’t picked on. I was privileged beyond belief with my foster parents and I was the one who picked on others. Perhaps that was what my real parents wanted to teach me, wanted to show me that having everything can be the same as having nothing at all. I had nothing to work towards, nothing to achieve. I never knew how to want, I just . . . had,” Whip said. “But then again, try telling that to the man on the streets digging through garbage just to fill his belly.

“I went to my schoolhouse with the best clothing, the best books. I was talented, the top surfer in my school with medals to prove it, attractive to the ladies, and I just felt empty. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Poor me, poor little rich kid. So, I filled that emptiness by trying to make others feel just as empty as me. I picked on the less fortunate, bullied those unlike me, mostly because I wanted what they had: purpose and want.

“And then, one day, well, this one day took several years in the making, I drove a kid too far . . . This boy, a boy just like me, he flung himself off of Ransom’s Point. His own father, a marine patrolman, found his son’s body mangled among the rocks. A closed casket funeral was held a few days later, one I didn’t even bother attending. You see, back then, I saw the world in black and white. You were either the best or the worst. Strong or weak. And if you couldn’t be the best, you were better off dead. That’s how I saw things, black and white. Little did I know, the next day, for the rest of my life, all I would see was black . . . a cruel irony.

“Unlike me, that boy had friends. Heartbroken and beyond reason, these boys, one of whom was the son of the local surfboard crafter, cornered me. They brought me out back of the surf shop, beat me near death, poured all their hurt, all their frustration at the loss of their friend into their fists, then into me. I couldn’t believe the passion. With every strike, I felt their pain. They forced me to feel for the first time, and then, they forced me to see by taking my sight. They grabbed a pick from the furnace, used for branding the boards, and . . . well, I’m sure you can guess the rest.

Gisbo was silent.

“I don’t expect you to say I’m sorry, Gisbo. You don’t need to say anything. I am so thankful for those boys. I lost my sight and I never told anyone who did it to me. Those boys helped me to see, truly see, helped me realize a lesson I’ll never forget. What people portray themselves to be and what they are truly like inside are two different things. A kind word or a mean one can either steer someone into a brighter day or right into their last. Your eyes can deceive you, but your instincts and feelings never will, and instincts and feelings are all I have to go on now,” Whip said.