Renegade Reborn (25 page)

“So close are you now, so close are you to your dream of crushing the human heart into a moldable thing of your own sick desire, but I tell you now, with everything I am, that something beyond reason, beyond control, beyond understanding, now stands in your way. This something, it does not bend, it does compromise, it does not relent, and on the morrow, when this is over, when the dust has settled, and when the sun rises on this world, you will know the name of this thing, and forever, in your fear of fears, there will it remain, the name of Renegade!” Vadid said.

And with that, the finest warriors upon Thera leapt to the attack, coming at the man who considered himself a God without restraint. The Dragon lashed its tail, striking half of them down, only to have them rise back up, stronger than before, while Vice Dastard stood his ground against Drakearon, alone, falling seven times, but rising eight, refusing to quit, putting not just his body on the line for the sake of Thera, but also his artificial soul, and then, it happened. With a swing of his blade, Drakearon unleashed a barrage of black lightning filled Drakeness, striking all the warriors in blue, and bringing them to their knees, with the weight of all their guilt, iniquities, and sins, weighing them down.

They writhed upon the ground now, helpless to rise, battered, cut, and bruised beyond belief, and then, as he would years later, a man, perhaps with the most sins, and most regret ridden soul of all, against all possibilities, rose up on one knee, then two solid feet. Just the sight of him, standing tall, cleared the clouded, infected hearts of the others as they, through much effort, found their footing as well, and stood tall beside him.

“This is but wasted effort. Your power, your will, while impressive, fills but a single pond, while I draw upon oceans upon oceans upon worlds! This ends, NOW!” Drakearon said. Suddenly, his dual bladed sword glowed so fiercely; those in its sight range found they could not look upon its brightness, as the energy around the blade soon stretched out and grew as tall, and thick as an oak. He then raised the sword high, meaning to strike through all of them in one blow.

“It is finished,” Drakearon said, as he swung the massive blade down, whose purpose and size, seemed more adequate for slaying buildings rather than Renegades, but even so, the blade came down, and struck, blowing back sand, and street, but not one Renegade fell.

Vadid the Valiant stood now, his Phoenix blade screeching, shining like a blue sun, pushing against the Dragon blade and protecting his men with all of his remaining strength, literally holding back the might and pressure of a tidal wave with his own power. Vadid gritted his teeth and felt a molar pop, felt the tips of his hair and beard burning as he looked the masked man in the eyes with maddening resolve.

“This is it, this is the moment, MY moment! The moment when I finally see that pompous fire die in your eyes! We are but seconds away! No, moments! Already, I see a bone ready to pop through your skin, and when it does, your defense will break, along with all you stand for and love. It is over. You have challenged me beyond anything I could have predicted, and you have given me the perfect resistance, the perfect obstacle to overcome to make my dream all the more sweeter! I thank you, Vadid, I thank you!” Drakearon said.

“I . . . ungh,” Vadid grunted. Blood trickled from his nose, and his eyes began to roll up into the back of his head.

“Save your breath, and go in peace,” Drakearon cooed.

Vadid saw fireworks burst before his vision in a variety of colors and hues. He was losing consiousness, but worse than that, he was losing his will. Darkness, once an enemy, now seemed a viable friend compared to the debilitating pain thundering through his body. Sweet darkness, all he had to do was close his eyes and it would be all over, all he had to do was . . .

“Stand . . .” A voice spoke in his mind. It was so sudden, it startled him, but in the best way possible. It was his wife, and with her tone, came a collage of images, swirling and circling in his mind of past, present, and future. He saw his fight with his brigand of a father that forced him to leave home and put him on the path to meeting the love of his life, and becoming a Renegade. He saw his two sons and daughter, Karm, Narroway, and Nora playing, one studying over ancient tomes, the other, whacking his sister with a wooden blade as she hit him with a coiled rope. He saw his first student, Falcon Vadid, and felt both immense joy, then sorrow, then, hope, and lastly, he saw his daughter Nora bring forth a boy into the world who did not arrive with a whimper or a cry or balled fists. No. He came with a head full of thick dark hair. He came with his little hands, opening and closing, feeling and understanding the world that he would one day protect, and lastly, he came with his eyes, wide open, looking all about, until they fell on his own, and Vadid, lost his breath, as well as his emotional control as tears, flooded the grizzled old warrior’s eyes, as well as a will and resolve, more powerful than before!

“I’ve seen so much in this thing I’ve called a life. I’ve seen other planets, other universes, other realities, other times, and despite it all, I realized, it was never the big planets I’ve enjoyed, but the small ones, and Thera, is no doubt, the smallest planet I’ve ever come across. You asked me before, why I wasted my energy, to save that little girl’s pup?” Vadid asked.

Drakearon fell silent, and Vadid shook his head, holding back the power now with little effort. Each sentence he spoke, he thought not of his own body, or power, but others, and they were what were holding back the Dragon now, along with his friend, the fiery blue Phoenix.

“That’s the thing. You think so much beneath you, but not me. I consider myself just another part of this little planet. I love it. This is my home. This is my life. I like little planets, because here, even the smallest decisions have big results, and even the smallest of creatures, can be heroes . . .” Vadid said.

CHOMP!

And then, Drakearon cried out in pain, feeling thick little points pierce the tender spot in his heel, and soak his silken sock with his own blood, and it was in that one moment of distracting pain that gave Vadid the upper hand he needed as he pushed the Dragon blade up, and to the side, forcing the resounding energy to Drakearon’s own army, instead of Thera’s.

The Man-Dragon had to see, had to find the source of the sudden intense flame of pain that had erupted in his heel and was now climbing fast up his leg, and couldn’t believe what he found. There, as stoic as a little pup could be, was Puggy, digging his sharp little teeth into the heel of a would be God, and rending it back and forth with the most viscous and valiant growls he could muster.

In the confusion, Vadid had time to dive into a front roll, and grab the pup in one arm, while striking at the air with his last remaining power, and once again, reality itself folded open like a napkin, and there, through the hole in reality, now flapping in the wind behind Drakearon, was another world, a dark world, with a red sky, and bellowing thunder.

“NOW!” Vadid screamed, falling on to his side, holding Puggy tightly to his chest, completely spent.

Falcon moved first, firing a massive burst of fire, expelling the entirety of his essence at Drakearon, who, now having regained his bearings, managed to bat it aside as if it were annoying insect, and down Falcon went.

Together, Shax, and Moordin charged outright in a spinning display of their pole-arms, only to be blown backward with one swing of Drakearon’s blade, looking like skipping stones across a still pond, as they sputtered and skipped along the sandy ground, blowing up clouds of dust, until they settled, and lay still.

And then the rest came, from all manageable angles. Foxblade and Lokin, daggers drawn, went for the back of him as Purah, the Berserker, went for the front to draw his attention. It did not matter. Drakearon merely took his blade, stabbed it into the ground and unleashed a controlled explosion of energy all around him, sending all three men flailing into the air like ragdolls.

Lokin’s head careened off the corner of a stone home, Foxblade’s body went straight through a window into another, and Purah, landed right between the downed Moordin and Shax with the front of his Renegade poncho on fire.

It had come to this now, the fate of Thera, now in the hands of Vice Dastard, standing alone against his creator, and his father. They looked for a long moment at each other, standing still as Gunslingers as the hole behind Drakearon was slowly beginning to close. Once shut, all would be lost.

“What could you hope to accomplish alone, where the group has failed?” Drakearon asked.

Vice Dastard looked at him for a long moment. It was in times such as these, warriors would draw upon good memories, but for Vice, he could barely count them on his hands, and then, he heard the voice of Vadid again . . .

“
If you were my son, I’d be proud.”

Vice smiled, looked his father right in the eyes, and said,

“Let’s find out . . .”

“There it is! This, this right here is Purah’s chain. Let’s hope that he and Drakearon had some deep, meaningful conversations. Come on, I need your help, we’re going to snap the chain from its source. We’re bringing it back with us,” Jackobi said.

“We, you can do that?” Rolce asked.

“Yes, but carefully. We have to follow this chain down to the source, only there, can we get a clean break, and then, we’re out of here. No doubt, once the chain breaks, he’ll feel it and our cover is blown. We’ll have one shot at this. You ready?” Jackobi asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Rolce said. Taking in a deep breath, the two of them wafted through the chains, getting deeper to the glowing, ball of turquoise energy at the center where the chains of memories began.

“Ugh, my stomach, this, this is . . .” Rolce started.

“Fight it. The closer we get to the source, the worst you’ll feel. This is the Dragon’s energy. Where the Phoenix has hope, this has despair. Where the Phoenix fills one with courage, this fills you with fear. Come on, almost there,” Jack said.

“Don’t you feel this?” Rolce asked. “It’s like, a rending feeling, tendrils, reaching into my soul, I . . . Oh, Jack, Jack, this is too much, I can’t . . . I can’t . . .” Rolce said. He went to wipe sweat off his brow, only to come back away, his forearm drenched with red.

“Blood?” Rolce spoke, his voice trembling.

“Hematidrosis. Sweating blood in extreme stress. Damn it, Rolce. I’m so sorry. I have an immunity to this due to my Seraph blood, but we can’t stop, please, without you, we can’t do this, we can’t . . .” Jackobi started.

“Jackobi Foxblade, Rolce Moordin . . . I don’t know whether to be impressed, or angry,” A bellowing, cold voice snapped. It seemed to come from all around them, and also, from within them.

“MOVE!” Jackobi yelled, as he fell in a fierce nosedive, straight into the source. Rolce screamed with pain, and his grip grew so weak that Jack was forced to grab his wrist and drag him along. The end was there, he saw it, only a few more feet, and he could snap it free, only a . . .

And then, he blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, there, floating before them, standing in the way of Purah’s chain, was the masked face of Drakearon, huge, and menacing.

“The sheer arrogance of this foolhardy act, I’m at a loss for words, but that’s fine, action is far better. Thank you, for making this so easy!” Drakearon said. Suddenly, his mask flipped around to the demonic face and his cold tone was gone, replaced by the shrill tone of unbridled insanity. “DIEEEEE!”

The eyes of Drakearon glowed, and from them, a dual blast of red energy fired straight toward Rolce . . .

“NO!” Jackobi screamed, as he shifted his friend parallel, using his own body to shield Rolce’s. Jack closed his eyes, braced himself, but the blast never hit. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in darkness. He had gone from the black, into the blue, as all about them was a rotating ring of fire, blue white fire, shielding them from the killing gaze of Drakearon.

“Don’t lose heart boys, for I am with you!” A familiar voice called, a voice, that they had just heard moments earlier.

“Vadid . . .” Rolce stammered, feeling gooseflesh tear across his body as his despair and pain was replaced with hope and exhilaration.

“Oh, the sheer dangles on you boys! Do you have any idea how crazy this was?” Vadid’s voice asked, not in a scolding tone, but rather, it was a tone of pride. “And Jack, how many times have I told you that you are my one link to this world! If you go out and die . . . heh, crazy as a fox . . . I’ll take it from here boys! You get what needs getting’ and high tail your asses outta here!”

“Impossible . . . GRAH!“ Drakearon’s voice growled, not at all enjoying the blue flames dancing before his face.

“You should know this by now. I’m Vadid the Valiant! Impossible is my speciality! Go boys! NOW!” Vadid grunted.

“Rolce, pull! Give it your all! Use that freakish strength of yours!” Jackobi said, and together, they tugged the chain, pulling and pulling with all their might, but try as they may, it would not break free.

“This is my domain! Do not believe for a moment you’ll just float your way to victory!” Drakearon spoke.

“A moment? Oh, Drakey, I think of nothing but victory! Boys, let’s see if I can’t help you out here. Hold on, Gizzy! Things may or may not go dark on you for a bit! Hopefully, he doesn’t spiral into the side of a planet or something . . . ok, whew! Damn are you boys stretching my limits here, it’s been a while . . . HERE WE GO!” Vadid said.