Renegade Reborn (41 page)

“Already defeated Purah in your mind have you? That’s good. Hold onto that confidence. Don’t let it go.” Jack said.

“Still, I just wish they’d start this thing. Where the hell is she?” Rolce asked, when suddenly the door behind them slid open and in walked a petite woman, clad in golden robes.

“Rolce Moordin? It is time,” The woman said.

Rolce nodded. The woman made her way through the two of them and touched a control panel within the glass box. There was a hum, and the corners of the walls, pulsed yellow, followed by the sounds of hammers dropping as the box lurched forward and began floating downward toward the ring. As they floated down, Rolce saw that another box on the opposite side of the ring was descending as well.

Rolce saw the silhouette of several people in the box and saw one was taller than the others. At this site, his stomach twinged and he felt his heart began to hammer in his chest as he wiped cold sweat from his brow.

“Fear is good.” Jackobi said. “It makes you move quicker,”

“So says you,” Rolce countered.

“You’re ready for this. We’ve spent your Risinyu energy wisely. Moordin, Shax, as well as generations of Naforian’s that have come before, who have all gave their lives for freedom, true freedom, are with you. Don’t think, just act, and victory is yours,” Jackobi said.

Rolce took in a slow, steady breath, and only nodded as the skybox landed softly upon the arena floor and the door behind them slid open. Together, he, Jackobi, and the petite woman all walked out and stood on the outer rim of the circle floor which was covered in a thin layer of white, Flarian sand. Before them, in the center of the arena, stood Lady Seveara, towering over her two body guards who stood still as statues on both sides of her.

“This way gentleman,” The robed petite woman said, and together they made their way to her. Rolce, now that he stood in the arena, began to find his focus, as the crowds loud cheering got his adrenaline going. He didn’t even notice the way Lady Seveara was looking at him, nor did he notice the subtle way she parted her own hair with a finger, a sign of attraction, upon seeing him. No, rather than looking at her, he was looking through her, at the man behind her, the man with the chiseled jawed, the bright blue eyes, and the warm, deceptive smile. Rolce realized then that it wasn’t a smile at all. It was a shield, a shield to hide the darkness behind it while he tortured his father, killed his mother, and kidnapped children all in the name of Drakearon.

Rolce Moordin, what a pleasure it is to see you again, and all grown up too!
Purah’s voice echoed within Rolce’s mind. Rolce’s face grimaced.

Sorry, but I can’t say the same.
Rolce sent back mentally.

Fair enough. I didn’t expect you to, but, nonetheless, here we are. It is said that when two Sybil’s do battle, even the heaven’s themselves give pause. Just know, that what happened with your father, your mother, with Jack, it was never personal, only necessary. I wanted you to know that.
Purah said.

Suddenly, Rolce reached out and extended a mental invitation, not a grab as he had done so many times to Gisbo. It was more like a mental handshake. Purah accepted, and together, the two blinked and were transported to an area of Rolce’s design on a different, higher, plane of existence. When the two opened their eyes again, they were sitting across from one another in the common grounds of a place they had both, once, called home.

Heaven’s Shelter.

Purah looked all around, admiring the intrinsic attention to detail of Rolce’s memory. Everything was present. Renegade Joe’s Steakhouse, the sushi hut, the giant golden statue of Vadid hanging overhead, as well as the black tower, glowing with blue white fire at the top. The only thing missing, was the people. Chairs were pushed out and empty, and rather than smell various foods cooking, and hear the clinking of mugs, and conversation, they heard only the wind flowing through the chair legs and crevices in the huts, issuing out a strange, wooing sound, the sound, of emptiness.

“I still think about this place you know. More than you probably believe.” Purah said, finding Rolce’s eyes with his own.

“You should. You only murdered hundreds of people and destroyed the place. I would hope your actions haunt your dreams as much as they do mine.” Rolce said, folding his arms and giving Purah a hard stare. Purah met his gaze, and then, beyond anything Rolce could have predicted, Purah did something that wasn’t forced and couldn’t be faked. Tears, real tears, filled up in the corners of his eyes and rolled down the side of his cheeks. Rolce was at a loss for words.

“Surprised, are you? Do you think I, for one second, do not regret my actions? Do you think that I do not regret infecting your father with the Drakeness and using him as my puppet? You think that I do not regret that your mother died in the crossfire because, I, in my own naivety, lost control of myself dealing with my own, pure Drakeness infection? You think that I sleep well knowing that my friends and people who I considered family, all died in a massacre, because their beliefs did not coincide with Drakearon’s or my own? Rolce, I don’t sleep, and I hardly eat. Death, for me, is going to be the real pleasure. Living? That’s my true hell.” Purah said, wiping away tears. Rolce just shook his head.

“The things you’ve done, Purah! The things you’ve done to me!” Rolce said, slamming his fists upon the table. “The things you’ve done to my family, my, my best friends, it’s, it’s unforgivable! I . . . I can’t, I just can’t pity you . . .”

“Of course it isn’t, and yet, you still do pity me. And why? Because, as much as you try to push it down, you understand me, and that, is what scares you beyond anything else, and that’s why I accepted this palaver before we put our lives on the line. I would like to have a battle of the minds, right here, right now. I want to weigh what I believe, against what you believe. I’m ready to die for my cause, for what I believe in. Are you?” Purah said.

“Of course.” Rolce said.

“Then go. I will give you first question.” Purah said. Rolce didn’t even take time to think.

“Why? Why do all those things?” Rolce asked.

“So, you wish to know the answer to, ‘why’ rather than ‘how’? A good start, and also a hint at the way your mind works. But, why should I bother answering a question you already know the answer to? I do what I do, did what I did, for the greater good, and the greater good is the world Drakearon wants . . . a world without pain, without suffering, without sin, and without loss.” Purah said.

“You say greater good while committing evil, but, we will get to that down the line. I first want to say that the world that you want, will also be a world without freedom, without choice, without love, without life! To take away free will is to take away what makes us human! To take that away, is to, is to . . .” Rolce started.

“Exactly. I want to make us something more than human. Make us something where murder, rape, sadism, theft, violence, greed all becomes obsolete. Under Drakearon, we shall become new beings, and all that is wrong, will be made right. Is that not what some believers in IAM believe as well? That we die in this world only to reborn as new beings in the heavens? Free from such afflictions and desires that I mentioned? Why wait for a life that is not a guarantee, when we can have that now? Why take something on faith, when we can take something on fact? I believe that you should never sacrifice what is, for what could be.” Purah said.

“I’ve seen what we become under Drakearon. The weak, become Drakelings. The strong, become Drakeknights, but in the end, all they will be is mindless monsters, all of them, lashing out at everything and anything that moves, and all apart of Drakearon’s will, rather than their own. That’s not life. Free will won’t go away, Purah. It will only become exclusive to one man playing at God.” Rolce said.

“Ah, but the definition of life is relative, isn’t it? Not one life is lived the same. Some pursue worldly pleasures, while some pursue pleasures of the heart. You want to decide life for everyone?” Purah asked.

“Of course not. I want to give them the option to choose for themselves! And Drakearon wishes to take that away!” Rolce said.

“But what about those who choose to join Drakearon willingly? What of those who want to become a Drakeling or Drakeknight or delight in the Black High?” Purah asked.

“All it leads is to destruction for themselves and more power for Drakearon.” Rolce said.

“But isn’t that their choice?” Purah asked. “And the only reason the Drakelings lash out is because they are at war. They do not lash out at one another. Do they? They lash out at those such as yourself, who cling to their humanity as if it were something special, when it is only a flawed existence. You’re selfish. If you would only join with them, the war would end.”

“How can you defend this? What about, ‘I think, therefore I am?’ We will be puppets on strings, just, living to exist, not existing to live,” Rolce said. “That’s not life! Life is nothing without choice!”

“There you go again with the sweeping generalizations! Being a Drakeling, it is still life, but from your selfish mindset, you believe that not all life is created equal, and rather than try and fix it, you would rather leave it. Do you think all the poor and afflicted got where they are because they chose to be that way? Where there is rich, there will be poor. Where there is success, there will be failure. Where there is predators, there will be prey. Under Drakearon, however, plants, mammals, invertabrates, all and everything will be equal. All life will be one. The lion will lie down with the lamb. One is all, all is one, as The Holy Chosen say.” Purah said.

“I cannot put the thought of intelligent life, my life, our life, on the same level as plankton, Purah,” Rolce said.

“Then you admit that I’m correct in saying life is not all equal?” Purah asked.

“I do. It is how it is designed,” Rolce said.

“I find it amusing you say designed, rather than grown, or evolved. You are so sure it was designed? Created?” Purah asked.

“Of course I’m not sure, but the alternative is a life without meaning, without purpose.” Rolce said. “And whether IAM created Thera in a matter of days, or we grew over a period of millions of years, or it’s some mix of the two, or none at all. Either way, neither of us can know for sure. Science is a tool for observing what we can see, not what we can’t see. That’s what Philosophy and Theology are for, to fill in the gaps. We need them all, but, that’s not the point of our discussion. We both know IAM exists, as well as Appolyon, and I don’t know where these voices or visions in my head come from, but I can’t deny they’re existence. All I can do, for my own sanity, is believe that I was put on Thera for a reason.”

So, you believe, or want to believe, your life has purpose? Tell me, Rolce. Where does this purpose come from? From IAM? If so, then don’t you need religion as well? With purpose, doesn’t there come rules? Rules such as no homosexual relations? No red meat? No sexual relations before marriage? Need I go on with these silly rules IAM related religions have mustered? And why are some rules different between the religions? Why follow them in the first place? Because, IAM says so? Sorry, but I want more. I want to make rules that actually make sense in order to fix this flawed existence we call life. You’re right. I know IAM exists. So does Drakearon, but the average person hasn’t seen what we’ve seen. They have to take it on faith, and faith, is such a fragile thing when put against reason. Don’t you see the brilliance of Drakearon now? Just with his existence, his power, his words, he gives faith to the realist, and reason to the faithful, leaving them conflicted, and eventually, controllable. This is why they are coming to us willingly, and making our side more powerful by the day. But you, Rolce. You’re different. Tell me, just what are you?” Purah asked. Rolce thought on that for a moment.

“I consider myself a believer if I must claim a title or name. I’m not an IAMst, or an Orthodox IAMist, or consider myself attached to any other branch. I believe that one can believe in a higher power without believing in religion. Man creates religion. Religion doesn’t create man. Religion is man’s way to IAM, and faith is IAM’s way to man. Once you believe in a higher power, believe that every action is preordained, leading to a big picture, then, at least for me, I have purpose. As I said, I believe my life exists for a reason, and part of the fun and mystery, has been discovering what that purpose is.” Rolce said.

“Ah, but if everything is preordained as you say, if IAM exists, and if he knows your every choice before you make it, then, by reason, you do not have free will, do you? Free will, it is but an illusion.” Purah said.

“Not at all,” Rolce fired back calmly. “Just because IAM knows what we are going to do, before we do it, doesn’t erase our free will. Instead, it proves it. You say you believe in IAM, and yet, you continue to do what you do, wanting to use Drakearon’s free will to erase free will.” Rolce said.

“Ah, yes, as I said, I know IAM exists, but, not for a moment do I believe him to be omniscient, or omnipresent. There’s a difference, and yes, I see the irony of using free will to erase free will. Don’t think I don’t, but what I also see is a flawed design, that needs fixing, but please, do continue. Tell me how free will isn’t illusion. Tell me how my questionable actions could both be my own choice, and IAM’s design. You can’t have it both ways here. It’s one or the other. Fate, or choice.” Purah said, leaning in and listening intently.

“The way I see it, is horrible things happen everyday, and yet, IAM doesn’t interfere. I hear the argument thrown around a lot, that if IAM existed, he wouldn’t allow this or that evil to exist, or this or that tragedy to happen, but remember, it’s not IAM who does evil. It is us. Men choose to rape, to murder, and bring tragedy.