Chapter 9: Opening Day
When Gisbo awoke, it was nightfall. He looked up from his comfortable new V-bed and saw the stars through the skylight, along with a glowing full moon. It took Gisbo a few moments to realize where he was and he was trying to remember what had happened when a young white wolf hopped from the bed next to him and began lapping his dirty face in excitement.
Gisbo rubbed at the back of his Boon’s neck and suddenly smelled the tantalizing scent of grilling meat just outside. Gisbo quickly grabbed Fao in his arms, jumped from the bed, and ran to the porch. There he found Rolce sitting in a rocker with Harpie and talking to Falcon, who was hunched over the grill stirring something that smelled glorious, while smoke filtered off into the night air.
“Of all things, it's the smell of food that wakes him,” Falcon said with a grin, as he flipped over what looked like a few steaks, flames rising with each turn as the grease and juices ignited.
“How long was I out for? What happened?” Gisbo asked, rubbing his eyes.
“I’d like to ask you that last question.” Rolce said. Gisbo gave him a curious look and then held Fao out in front of him. Fao stared at him a moment and then lapped at his face once more. Laughing, Gisbo took a seat.
“So we finally got both our Boons! But, jeesh, I must have got hit on the head or something. I don’t remember a damn thing. What happened?” Gisbo asked.
“Well, I got Falcon and we both made it back to you. When we got there you were collapsed with Fao, surrounded by dead wolves, and not a scratch on you!” Rolce said. Gisbo’s eyes went wide and he desperately tried to remember what happened. He remembered the wolves now, he remembered they were fighting and then . . .
A quick burst of fire lit eyes flashed across his mind. Gisbo shuddered and then it was forgotten as white space replaced it.
“I . . . I don’t really know what happened, to be honest . . . everything’s a blank to me,” Gisbo said in a distant voice, trying to piece together the images that flashed through his head. Rolce frowned.
“So you don’t remember how you and a pup defeated a pack of savage wolves without a scratch? Did you ask them politely to leave you alone and kindly drop dead all around you? I’m slightly offended you think me so stupid,” Rolce said, crossing his arms. Harpie seemed to give Gisbo a nasty look too.
“I remember fighting the wolves with Fao here. We were doing all right, then things started to turn in their favor. I remembered seeing Fao, hurting, as two wolves were snapping at her . . . then everything went black, then it was red . . . I really don’t know what to tell you, ugh, everything is a literal blank in here. Don’t worry, Rolce, you’ll get used to it hanging around me. I’m lucky if I remember to put on my pants in the morning,” Gisbo said. Falcon only looked over his shoulder with a curious glance and then kept on cooking.
“Hmph,” Rolce said, folding his arms and squinting at him.
“Don’t look at me like that! I really don’t remember anything and AND YOU!” Gisbo said, pointing at Falcon. Falcon turned and placed a hand over his chest.
“Me?” Falcon asked.
“Yeah you! Seriously! If you weren’t making that food right now, I’d wallop you! Do you even realize what me and Rolce had to go through to get these Boons?!” Gisbo blurted out as he held Fao up. Fao just yawned and began panting.
“Yup,” Falcon said as he turned back to his cooking.
“Yup? That’s all you can say? We nearly died!” Gisbo protested, raising his voice.
“Correction, YOU nearly died,” Falcon said as he shook an accusatory grilling fork at him. “That was . . . unexpected . . .” he added and, with a shrug, he went back to cooking.
“Unexpected? You sound as if you knew what was going to happen,” Rolce stated, as he stroked Harpie’s head slowly and the little bird cooed.
“That is not entirely false. However, it is not beneficial knowledge for you as of yet. There are more pressing matters ahead for conversation, so let's do it over dinner, shall we?” Falcon said, as he slapped various meats and grilled vegetables onto three plates, passing them out to Gisbo and Rolce, keeping one for himself.
“Oh yeah? Well, what was all that talk before then about not holding anything back from us?!” Gisbo asked. Falcon looked a bit pained as they began walking inside and setting their table for dinner.
“Boys, it’s not that I don’t WANT to tell you, it’s just that it is top secret, Renegade classified. That's the honest truth.” Gisbo and Rolce looked quite disappointed, but also intrigued. Things brightened quickly enough with their first bites of food. It tasted even better then their previous meal, if that could be possible.
“Falcon! This tastes amazing! What do you do differently than the Renegade chefs?” Rolce wondered with a mouthful of food. Falcon smiled at his compliment.
“Well, it’s not that I don’t WANT to tell you, it’s just that it is Falcon Vadid classified. Those chefs have been trying to pry my marinade recipe from me for years. Maybe one day I’ll pass it on to someone, when the time is right,” Falcon said with another amused grin. Gisbo and Rolce weren’t disappointed as they continued to scarf down the delicious meats and vegetables before them.
“Now then, down to business. Your official first day as Renegas begins on the morrow. The training will prove . . . adequate. The term is split up to focus on one notch of study at a time rather then having all three to deal with at once. Each of these courses, upon completion, will earn you your initial bands and should you finish notch three, you will graduate to Renegara status. From there, you will begin your training with your Class Masters after a short break for summer. Now Gisbo, if you would please stand up,” Falcon requested.
“Why?” Gisbo asked.
“Just stand your ass up,” Falcon muttered. Gisbo did. Falcon pointed his ring finger forward and, with a glow, a red beam of fire stretched forth, hitting Gisbo’s leather belt. It stayed concentrated for a moment and the smell of burning leather hit his nostrils and then it was done. Gisbo looked down at his belt and saw the symbol of a fork burned there, pulsating with a red glow every few seconds.
“If you recall seeing all those relics and plaquards throughout the hallway we walked down earlier today, then you should know those are the titles one can win for oneself, forever engraving one's name in Renegade history. Quite the honor, the silver fork already has your name engraved upon the plaque and now you display the fork on your belt for all to see. If you notice, it will pulsate with a red glow from time to time, showing all that you are the current eating champion. Should you lose your title, the engraving will remain, but it will cease to pulsate. I doubt anybody will challenge you anytime soon, what with your display of fortitude today,” Falcon added with an air of pride. Gisbo beamed.
“You will meet in the Courtyard of Strength on the morrow at exactly six in the morning. Don’t be late, the instructor is in quite the foul mood that early in the morning and you shouldn’t try their patience,” Falcon stated.
“That early? Every day?!” Gisbo moaned.
“Not every day, five days a week. You get the weekends off at least, which comes down to our next state of affairs . . . tarries,” Falcon stated with a smile.
“Money?” Rolce and Gisbo said, almost in unison.
“Yes, money. You have been given about one hundred tarries apiece in your bank accounts. That should be enough to last you until you find yourselves a means of work. You are able young men and the time for handouts was over when those one hundred tarries were deposited. If you wish to buy food for yourselves, books, supplies, etc. you will need to find a means of work throughout Heaven’s Shelter to support yourselves. I suggest you two look as soon as possible after your course tomorrow, before the good jobs are taken. I believe that’s it for now, so pleasant night to you, boys! I’ll be seeing you!” Falcon said as he unsheathed his sword and made his way to the end of the deck. With a quick leap, Falcon activated his essence and was skeeting away into the night sky, leaving a fiery red tail behind him.
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“Man, I can’t wait for the day I can do that!” Gisbo said, watching the red trail glimmer in the night sky before dissipating.
“He could have at least helped us clean up,” Rolce complained, as he began picking up the plates. Gisbo and Rolce then took turns jumping into the cleansing room and were off to their beds. Fao slept at the base of the ladder of Gisbo’s bed and Harpie perched on the bed post of Rolce’s.
“I better not find any surprises behind my bed in the morning. You and Fao can take your business outside! You understand?” Rolce said, laying down the law. Harpie puffed out her feathers in retort. “So you really don’t remember what happened, Gisbo? The place was an absolute mess. There was even a shattered oak tree and, when I say shattered, I’m not at all exaggerating.” Rolce said, turning to Gisbo, who only sighed.
“If I knew what had happened, I’d tell you, Rolce. It’s bothering me too. I felt death’s grip on me and then I wake up here in my bed, safe and sound,” Gisbo stated.
“It is a miracle you're alive, you know that,” Rolce said.
“Yup,” Gisbo said. Rolce shook his head.
“You and your, ‘yups,’” Rolce said.
“I find it stranger that Falcon supposedly knew how everything was going to play out, but then my actions surprised him. Something happened out there that wasn’t supposed to happen and I haven’t got a clue why,” Gisbo said distantly, his mind deep in thought.
“This whole day has felt like that, like we are on some trail we can’t break from. I feel that IAM has great plans for us,” Rolce said with a touch of seriousness.
“How does a guy as smart as you believe in something you can’t even see? Do you really buy into all those ideas of an afterlife? Hate to break it to ya, pal, but this is all we got.” Gisbo looked up again at the full moon through the skylight. Rolce sat up in his bed to answer.
“I refuse to accept that life is a meaningless accident. It is a comfort to dwell on the possibility that there is a life beyond this one,” Rolce answered, staring at the stars above. Gisbo looked from the window to Rolce with curiosity.
“Still, you just don’t know; you can't prove it. Why limit yourself to some higher power's rules, doing things against your own nature, when you can make the rules and do what makes you happy?” Gisbo asked.
“You could be entirely right. I believe though that what you said about following rules and doing what makes you happy is intertwined. I think whatever it is up there, IAM? Something else? I dunno for sure, but I feel each of us have been given talents to use that will make us happy and as long as we stick with what we love, that's what we are meant to do,” Rolce stated plainly. Quiet enveloped the room as both boys pondered the words.
“Hm, you know what, buddy, I can get behind something like that. Night, pal,” Gisbo said as he turned over to sleep.
“Night, man, pleasant dreams,” Rolce said. Gisbo sighed loudly.
“Rolce, a man does not wish another man pleasant dreams,” Gisbo said.
“What? I was just being . . .” Rolce started.
“Night, pansie,” Gisbo said.
“Shut up,” Rolce answered.
“GISBO!!!” Rolce’s voice boomed through Gisbo’s eardrums. Gisbo sat up, yelling curses in protest of the rude awakening until he saw Rolce’s accusing index finger pointed not at him, but at the clock on the Breeze Harmonic. Pulsating in thick golden numerals it read 5:55 a.m. Gisbo jumped from his bed, forgetting that he had a top bunk, and hit the ground with a thud that shook the floor. Rolce struggled to get his uniform on as Gisbo frantically began retrieving his articles of clothing one at a time from where they were strewn across the room. In a matter of minutes, they were out the door with Rolce shouting “We’ll be back soon!” to Harpie and Fao who were still sleeping soundly.
After taking only one wrong turn past the swamp they had fallen in the day before, they were finally at the common, with the giant golden statue of Vadid the Valiant staring down at them. They ran past the statue, through some shops and various food suppliers to the wide open circular field that held the cookout earlier. Huffing and puffing, they joined a group of boys and girls standing erect in a line with an instructor pacing back and forth. When they barged in on the group, the instructor stopped talking. A painful silence ensued as the boys quickly caught their breath and stood up straight to match their classmates. The instructor walked right up to Gisbo and stood with her arms folded, glaring up at him.
The instructor was nearly a foot shorter than Gisbo and two feet shorter than Rolce. She was dressed in Shininja attire, with blond hair and intense hazel eyes. She looked quite attractive for her age as well, which Gisbo guessed was just a little younger than Falcon. The awkward silence, along with the petite woman in front of them doing her best to look intimidating, was just about as much as Gisbo could take. A small chuckle escaped his lips, followed by a sheepish grin.
Rolce went white upon Gisbo’s insolence. The petite woman simply smiled back and motioned for Gisbo to follow her with a delicate wave.
“Hah! Here we were getting all worked up at Falcon’s warning of some big tough Renegade who was going to put us through total hell . . . she’s just some little old lady,” Gisbo whispered to Rolce in a tone just above a whisper before he followed the woman to stand in front of the Renegas. Rolce looked like he was about to have a panic attack as the other kids were staring at him with looks that said, You're friends with that idiot?
“Falcon’s boy, why am I not surprised?” the woman said, as she sized him up. “For our time together, would you and Moordin’s boy kindly be punctual? It would be MOST appreciated.” Her voice was sweet, almost too sweet. Gisbo was a bit taken aback as he nodded, not knowing what else to do.
“Good! Now off you go,” the woman said in an uppity tone as she raised her hand, beckoning for Gisbo to return to the line. Gisbo shrugged and turned to walk away when he heard a rush of air behind him. Before he knew it, the instructor was standing right in front of him. Gisbo froze as he looked backward, wondering how she had gotten there so fast. The faces of the students were shocked.
“We will be learning much in this three month term, my students. By the end of it, your bodies will be in peak shape, able to attack and defend yourselves accordingly,” she asserted. In an instant Gisbo felt pains all across his body as the instructor went wild with an array of punches and kicks, returning to her erect ready stance in seconds. How many hits had landed, Gisbo didn’t know. He was only aware that his entire body ached as if his whole body was just attacked by a hive of wasps.
“The main point of this course is to strengthen your body well enough to be able to bear elemental essence within it,” continued the petite Shininja woman, swinging her right arm, slamming Gisbo in the stomach and retracting in one fluid flash of movement. Gisbo coughed in pain as he tried to reclaim the wind knocked from his gut. Unable to, he dropped to his knees and crouched over.
“And also be ready to wield weapons accordingly upon your third notch of training,” the woman finished as she quickly extracted what looked like a dagger. In a flash of steel Gisbo’s pants dropped to the ground and he was left on his knees, regretfully showing his underwear to the class. His classmates were too stunned to even laugh at a situation that would have been funny at any other time. The petite instructor dropped down to Gisbo’s level and looked him in the eye, dangling her dagger playfully as a cruel smile stretched across her face. This time she truly was scary to Gisbo, which was probably the point of it all.
“For those who didn’t hear me the first time, you may call me Renegade Roarie. Does that name suffice to you, pup?” Roarie asked with the sickly sweetness of poison. Despite the pain all over his body, Gisbo he couldn’t help but feel angry at her cheap jab at his dog name.
“Thank you for your cooperation, pup. For those who don’t know, this is Gisbo Falcon, but you all are to refer to him as ‘pup’ for the remainder of this week in my presence. Anyone who doesn’t…well…I have somet
hing of great fun prepared!” Roarie announced gleefully.
“Well, pup, off you go now! Oh, please be on time for our next meeting, will you?” Roarie reiterated as she motioned with her hand to return once more. Gisbo pulled up his pants gratefully and scuffled back next to Rolce.
“Now, I’ll be straight-up honest with you. The first few weeks are going to be very intense. Puking, exhaustion, dizziness, extreme muscle aches and short periods of blackout are all completely normal. So if you have complaints in anything other than those areas, I’ll be glad to hear them!” Roarie spoke cheerily, as if she was wishing somebody a happy birthday. Soft chattering spread up and down the line of Renegas.
“She’s not sane,” Rolce muttered under his breath.
“Also, throughout the term while the Renegara’s are on their summer break, they will be helping in your training,” Roarie explained. Gisbo saw several boys and girls in Renegara attire walking their way.
If Gisbo had thought his day couldn’t get worse, he had been wrong. There, at the head of the Renegaras, was none other then Ranto. Gisbo gritted his teeth as Ranto eyeballed him, taking the place next to Roarie with his other Renegara friends. Gisbo noticed a number of pulsating symbols all across Ranto’s belt which all glowed except for a fork shaped one. At this, Gisbo smiled a bit to himself.
“For our first exercise, we will work on endurance. Gamba and Tora, if you please,” Roarie said.
A boy and girl in Nazarite attire walked to the center of the field and each raised a staff into the air. With a jolt, one ignited in green essence and the other in yellow. With a wave of their arms, the earth shifted and swelled until it formed several large, rather steep hills. Upon completion, a yellow energy field seemed to drop from the sky and formed a dome around them.
“These little molehills will be a part of our training every day throughout the term, so get used to them. It's pretty simple. You will sprint up the hills as fast as you can and then run down the other side, repeating until I allow you to stop. Also, you will become familiar with this special energy field surrounding your training ground. This trick is a particular favorite of mine that I have dubbed The Encourager. Should any of you start slacking, running a little too slowly for my liking, a friendly electric shock will shoot from the barrier and encourage you to move a little quicker. We will do this until I think you’ve had enough. Now please randomly position yourself outside of your synergies for exercises. The time for teamwork will come later; I want you to get to know your fellow Renegas, so go and get situated,” Roarie ordered with a clap. Gisbo split off from Rolce and walked to the farthest hill from him and stood next to two other boys.
One boy had a shaved head, medium build, a friendly smile and sharp green eyes. He wore Shininja gear. The other boy was massive, nearly as wide as he was tall. His Berserker attire was quite filled out, especially toward his stomach area.
“How's it going? You can call me Shaved Head or just Shaved will do,” said the boy with the shinija gear. Gisbo accepted his handshake with a wry smile.
“Shaved Head, huh? I’d ask why you’re called that, but I think I reached my limit on stupidity for one day,” Gisbo joked, but his air of curiosity led the boy to explain anyway.
“Well, my real name is Jag Davison, but as long as I can remember, I’ve always had a shaved head and, well, I’m not so much a social butterfly and with everyone hardly knowing my name, they just referred to me as the kid with the shaved head. Kinda stuck I guess, but I don’t mind,” Shaved said with a laugh. He motioned to the boy next to him.
“This is my friend, Grandfield. He was my best bud from my old town and we ended up in the same synergy!” Shaved told him as Gisbo pumped Grandfield’s strong yet chubby hand.
“Don’t worry, you won’t be hearing us call you pup. You . . . are amazing! My class master, Groggo, was quite depressed losing to such a prissy kid like . . .” Grandfield moved in closer to whisper, looking over his head for the person he was about to mention, “ . . . Ranto. He was ecstatic to see him get floored by you,” Grandfield said, smiling widely as he shook Gisbo’s hand up and down repeatedly.
“Eh, I do what I can and you already know my name, so good to meet ya both!” Gisbo said. Upon hearing Roarie’s voice, all three of them braced themselves for the order to begin. It was then they noticed Ranto make his way over to stand behind them, grinning.
“Hey, pup, good to see ya again. Me and you are going to spend some quality time together this year. Oh and looks like Davison’s and Groggo’s boys have joined up as well. Such company always attracts each other it seems,” Ranto said. To Gisbo, his words seemed to just fester and boil within his veins. He literally began to shake with fury. Noticing this, Shaved put a hand on Gisbo’s shoulder.
“Seriously, don’t. He’s trying to egg you on. Trust me, I heard Renegade punishments are quite harsh, not like detentions at some grade school and, as of right now, he’s our superior. You can’t nail a teacher, let alone her assistants. Just try and phase him out,” Shaved advised in a calm, comforting tone.
“Good to see there’s at least one cool head among you three; smart, too. You’d better heed his warning, pup. Eating is one thing, fighting’s a whole other matter. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you further today,” Ranto said, looking Gisbo straight in the eye, almost purposely flashing his muscled arm with three completed armbands before moving on to observe the other Renegas.
“That guy’s gonna get it one of these days. Groggo tells me most of the Renegaras all have that holier than thou attitude about 'em. Buncha jerkwads. They belong in the Strifes if anything,” Grandfield said with a snarl. Gisbo was pleased to know he wasn’t the only one who wanted to wallop him, even though he had no idea who the Strifes were. Grandfield made them seem worse than Flarians.
“I’m starting to like you guys already,” Gisbo said. At that moment, a giant lightning bolt struck the hill in front of them and a loud voice rang out, “Go!” Gisbo, Grandfield, and Shaved all sprinted quickly up the hill with Shaved in the lead, back down the other side, turned around and did it again.
After only a few up and downs, Gisbo and Shaved were doing all right, maintaining a steady speed, but Grandfield was another story. He started to slow a bit as a painful stitch erupted in his side only to quickly forget the pain as a bolt of electricity spanked his rear end. With a yelp and a jump, he began to run much quicker.
“Gah! People of big stature . . . weren’t meant . . . for such training. It’s so damn hot, I don’t think I can . . . YOUCH!” Grandfield shouted in between heavy breaths as he rubbed at his tender behind and picked up the pace.
“Don’t give me crap, Grandfield! You are a Berserker! You and your pal, pup, need endurance more than any other class here! Now move it!” Roarie shouted as she paced back and forth at ease and ordered a bolt to crack across Gisbo’s backside for no good reason.
“DAMN IT! YOU OLD BI . . .” Gisbo started, only to receive another one. He desperately tried to fire some derogatory name toward Roarie only to be cut off each time by a painful jolt of yellow.
The process continued for a full half hour with only three rests in-between and by the time, it was finished everybody was on the ground wheezing and rubbing their sore behinds. Gisbo had never been more tired in all his life. Aquarians walked around and sprayed water into the Renegas gaping mouths as they gratefully gulped their fill, then plopped back to the ground.
“Hills, the best way to train your endurance. The various machines around here are designed after the human body itself. Many of them run best when run continuously at full speed, not going about a steady pace for long distances. Something the residents outside our great city have not yet discovered and you all, like machines, must run exceptionally well to go about your tasks. Now, on your feet,” Roarie stated. With a unison groan, the students struggled to their feet and struggled even more just to stay upon them.
“With your legs and lungs worked out, it’s time to focus on the upper body. You may
already realize our training methods are quite unorthodox and guess what? They will continue to prove so. We believe in growing muscles, not simply pumping them up only to have them deflate if not regulated properly. You may notice many of the Elekai’ Neanderthals in Karm’s army were all huge and armor clad; such a waste. With those large pectorals comes slowness, showboating and an utter waste of oxygen. You will be different! Such will not be the case with the Scrappers Supreme! Your bodies will be swift, powerful, natural and adaptable through various exercises, which we will do right now!” Roarie stated with a clap and a smile. Many more groans reverberated throughout the Renegas.
“Ah ah! Did I hear groaning? Who here thinks this is too hard, hm? Does anyone have something to say?” Roarie challenged, somehow maintaining her stomach churning sweetness. Gisbo was about to raise his hand when Grandfield and Shaved grabbed both of his arms and held them down.
“I didn’t think so. Now, like our four legged friends of the forest, we will train by using our own body weight against us. Your strength will grow as you do and be one with you. Animals continually do this, hence most can decimate us if we are weaponless. All natural! You must respect your furry friends and train like them if you wish to be true Renegades. Training your bodies with some form of heavy weight to pump yourself up strains you unnaturally and deflates you accordingly. If you are to fight something natural, like another four limbed life-form, you need to train like it. We are made to fight, not lift things. Understand? Those that do will trounce their opponents with ease. So let us begin our exercises. I will demonstrate,” Roarie said as she placed her hands on her hips and put her feet together as the class did the same.
“We will first focus on breathing. As any Soarian can tell you, air is a powerful source and you need to be full of it. It will also begin to grow your muscles. We will do this until I feel you have had enough. First, we will breathe in as much air as possible.” A host of boys and girls coughed and gagged doing so as their lungs burned. “And now you will breathe out as much as possible while clenching your butt cheeks and your stomach tightly.” More coughing and wheezing continued as the Renegas did so. Gisbo felt like his entire torso was constricting itself as his body tingled all over and his sore muscles twanged painfully.
“Good. Again!” Roarie ordered. More wheezing and coughs ensued as they went about the exercise. Grandfield simply collapsed to the ground with a thud.
After a few more breaths, Roarie seemed to agree with Grandfield that they had had enough. The Renegaras continued watering them down, smiling at their pathetic feebleness. Gisbo indeed felt pretty pathetic as he lay down, thinking that he might not be able to get back up.
“Rested? Now? How about now? Ready? Oh good!” Roarie exclaimed.
“No, we’re not ready, you crazy . . .” Gisbo started until Granfield rolled on him and covered his mouth.
“Exercise two! Here we go! Drop to the ground like a tiger; it is time to do some push ups! After me!” Roarie demonstrated an odd form of pushup as she stretched her legs apart, bent forward, slid her body forward like a snake, arching her back, then rose to repeat the process. At most, everyone could do about three before they fell face forward in the dirt, which by now was mud. Some Renegaras cleverly foresaw the exercise and they had made sure to drench the ground in neat lines as they supplied water.
The strange workout continued into an odd array of squat thrusts, more breathing, followed by strange sit-ups, until finally it seemed Roarie was ready for the final exercise. Boys and girls quit trying to stand on their feet and resorted to lying on their backs, wracked with pain.
“Good! You may remain in your lying positions for the final exercise of the day, the bridge!” Roarie said. Gisbo thought it sounded good so far as he let out a sigh of relief. Anything that started by lying down couldn’t be too bad.
“This exercise will be the final one we do each and every day, increasing the time each day so you will eventually be able to hold this position for hours,” Roarie said.
“Lay here for hours? I can do that.” Grandfield moaned.
“This is one of the most controversial exercises around and will work EVERY single muscle in your body, but it will supply various benefits including increased metabolism, adrenaline rate, muscle growth, etc. We will hold this for about thirty seconds today. Now do as I do.” In a great show of athleticism, Roarie arched her back from the ground in a sort of gymnast stance as she held her belly in the air, arching her entire body into an upside down U with her hands and feet planted on each side to support her. Grandfield shook his head and let his mouth hang open.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?” Grandfield whined loudly. “You kiddin’ me?”
A few seconds were what most of the girls could achieve. Their flexible bodies managed to at least hold themselves upward. The boys couldn’t even make their backs rise more than a foot from the ground. They fell in pain, slapping their backs against the mud beneath them.
“Well, boys and girls, that does it for day number one! Congrats! You may now return to your housings and I will see you first thing tomorrow!” said Roarie as she turned and walked away with a wave, but nary a glance backward. Her class however did not do so. They all lay on the ground heaving hard, muscles twitching. A snide Renegara Nazarite conjured a large black rain cloud over the group as the older group walked away. Gisbo heard Ranto laughing hysterically.
“I’ll kill 'em, I swear I will…” Gisbo stated weakly.
“For once Gisbo, I agree.” Rolce said from a few rows down. The rest of the Renegas muttered in agreement through moans. Not one of the boys and girls moved as the rain poured down, washing the sweat and dirt from their weakened bodies. At least day one was over.