HOTT 03 ~ Twinkle, Twinkle Little Dead Star

[a_lost_prophet]

[COLOR=white]<< The Heroes of Ten Tors[/COLOR]

[COLOR=white]Coming too was worse than the torture of sex itself. Under the overcast sky, Tom stirred naked in the blanket of autumn leaves. His head pounded and every muscle screamed their way back to life. The world around him was a blur of grey and green hue with a startling light rising on the horizon. The air was chilling, and was another harsh sensation to the skin. Clinging to the dead white bark Tom pulled himself to his feet. Scanning over the scene of last night’s fury and passion. There was no sign of Robert or his things. Gathering what was left of his tattered clothes, he dressed himself as best he could, but he still looked like a boy who was mauled by the wolf man in the middle of the night. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Good morning.” Every note of that women’s voice was like the ring of a church bell in his head. No hangover had ever been this bad.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Not so loud.” Tom winced.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Are you alright?” She asked, confused by the request.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“You didn’t see what happened?”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“I have my own things to get on with, can’t be watching you both at every minute.” A discreet reminder that time was not on his side. There was still the Hero of Skill and the Hero of Will to find. But where had the Hero of Strength wondered off to?[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“He needs to be armed, can I trust you?” he cut her off with curt confirmation. Forsaking a normal life for this training, he was fully aware of what was required of him. Every hero has a weapon, an extension not of just their body but a conduit to channel their power. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Now, if we can only find him. Anything that was left spread across the floor at the make shift camp site was thrown into the backpack. Tom wondered from tree to tree in search of any sign of Robert. Dragging his feet through the dead leaves he was drawn to the sound of trickling water. By the river, a naked Robert was drying himself off, having bathed in the freezing waters. His pale skin shone under the dull sunlight. Tom caught the sight of his back, a massive mound stretching across his shoulders, his neck buried under there somewhere. His gazed followed each muscle as they flexed, the rounded delts that reached around the top of his arm like sculpted boulders. Those wide lats, curving their way down his sides to a tapered waist, and that solid firm arse, would have gotten the straightest of men staring.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Morning” said Tom, putting on a cheery tone as he gracefully skipped down the slope to meet him. But the Hero looked over his shoulder and said nothing. He slipped on a black pair of boxers that were still big enough to hold up his member and fitted to the rounded butt. Even with a pair on they were strained against the weight of his swinging package.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“You should probably get washed” he said gruffly, gathering his things in his thick arms and starting to walk off.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Robert?” When no response came, Tom pushed on “...everything alright?” He took a few steps closer to the walking wall of muscle. “If this is about last night...”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Like a bullet he grabbed Tom’s neck and pinned him to the wide bark of the tree behind him, his feet barely brushing the ground below him. Blind rage; that was the look on the Hero’s face, so intense it was scalding. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Listen to me to, faggot. Last night didn’t happen, I’m not some freaking,” he brushed off that thought before looking him dead in the eyes, “tell anyone, and I’ll fucking snap you in two!” [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]With a swift kick to Robert’s groin, he fell to the ground and choked for some air. Tom braced himself against the tree as he slid down the bark; the splinters of wood scrapping down his spine. He massagedhis throat as he too chocked to fill his lungs again. It didn’t help that the air was so bloody cold. He started to move in a circle around the gagging Hero.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“You may be the Hero of Strength, but that soft spot will always be there.” gasped Tom. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Robert had fallen to his knees, sucking the air in through his teeth. The expression on his face was unchanged and still with fury. “Last night…” [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Unwilling to hear what the Guild Boy had to say next, Robert shuffled back to his feet to smash the boy in two but struggled to move under the pain. He tired to block out Tom’s words, but they still made their way through. “you think I don’t know that was about?” Snarling, Robert made a run for him, throwing his monstrous weight on him only to be flipped up and onto his back. No matter how much power he had, Tom had the better technique. “You were pumped up. Roided up from sapping the energy of a dozen Balverines on the night of a full moon.” [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Defeated Robert‘s body spread itself across on the ground, his chest still heaving with rage. “You were horny, all that power focusing around your dick. It happens, frankly you would fucked anything with a pulse and I just happened to be the closest.” He walked over to him, cautiously albeit, and knelt down beside Robert and his tenting shorts. “And whether you want to admit it or not, you really wanna go again too. Maybe with me or something else, and last night wasn’t anything worth bragging about, so I’ll keep your secret” [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]The Hero got to his feet.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Fuck you,” he seethed, turning away. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]As he saw that barn door of a bulk walk away form him, Tom couldn’t help but to smirk ever so slightly. Even with all that muscle plated armour, the small Guild Boy had managed to find a way to get under his skin.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=white]The hike through the West Country was borderline civil. Every bump stumble and brush against each other was an irrationally perceived advance on Tom’s part. He became intolerable, Tom was trying to focus his mind on the runes and every so often was a cut and quip from Robert to distract him. Why trust the bones? What are they leading to? Are you lost? The woods were a barren graveyard, narrow trees spread sparsely apart with a blanket of their dead ornate, crinkled and dried leaves on the ground. The light grey scene had a haunted edge to it, made only worse by the settling mist and the dark day above. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“What are we looking for?” grumbled Robert as his shoulder took another chunk out of a tree.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Oh, it’s we now is it? Tom thought bitterly, throwing the runes up in the air once more. I thought it was just directionless me who was to blame? The mist was thickening and crunching leaves echoed in the distance.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“A wall.” Tom’s gazed tried to pierce deep into the hidden woods, but nothing.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“There are no walls here,” snapped Robert marching up to him. “These woods were never occupied throughout British history, even back in the earliest accounts in Anglo periods.” [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Tom stood still; stunned that such intelligence would pass through the lips of someone so stunning. A rare union of qualities.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“History?” he asked nonchalantly, turning away to look for the wall.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Second year.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Well the wall we’re looking for isn’t going to be picked up on a typical regional survey.” Tom said continuing on his zigzagged path. “It’s concealed and magic doesn’t work systematically and in straight lines.” The deeper they travelled the less the world around them looked like their own. The white washed world was a painting from the brush of a sinister artist, a maze to hide treasure in a corridor of magic, one which must travelled carefully, or they’d fall out back into the world. One foot behind the other and with Robert within brushing distance Tom stepped closer to it, a marble surface in the distance, a broken wall a bus wide and reaches no more.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Bingo.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Centuries of weathering and warfare had reduced what would have been a vast wall into nothing more than a monument to the old kingdom. The centrepiece had survived the trials of time, the 15 foot high face of an aged man, bearded and in the image of God, or Zeus. Ancient yet powerful. In the silence they gazed upon the amazing craftsmanship but every other moment was broken by the distance sound of crushing leaves.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Right, now to get through it” [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Robert looked at him puzzled; he swiftly lapped the ruins and rocks and found nothing beyond the faced gate.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“You’re kidding me right? Why not just walk round?”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“No I’m pretty serious. What we want is to get through the gate, not on the other side of the wall.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“When are you going to start making sense?” The stillness was broken with laughter (a tad more manly), irrational and inexplicable laughter. After the past few days they need to break the tension and memories of death and destruction with a brief giggling fit.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=white]Deep at the bottom on his bag Tom has a stash of Jaffa Cakes. Now was a good time as any to stop for a break. They’d ran from Bath to the middle of now-where. Slept, bathed and hiked. In their haste they forgot the need for food but now as they sat before the door they could rest for a while. Tom spoke on how his life wasn’t always as adventurous. He was once a student himself at Henley college. He drifted through his first year without a purpose. Drama, biology, literature and geography, his future was as unclear as the present. Then one day Morigan came to him, asking for his help, and just as he had moved from one interest to the next, he dropped what he was doing the moved to the South West. Four years of training and here he sat, having found the Hero of Strength and mounting a defence against the Shadow Court.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Speaking of which, it was time to get back to it.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Wanna see something cool?” Tom asked, getting back to his feet and stretching.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Robert didn’t object. With a sideward smile, he braced himself. Tom walked up to the door, to the stone marble face, and knocked it on the nose. “EXCUSE ME” he called out to it. The head shuffled from side to side, leaning forward and releasing a loud thunderous yawn. “I do apologies for waking you sir.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“How dare you.” Bellowed back the Demon Door, “Who are you to waken me?”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“I am the Apprentice Keeper to the Guild of Heroes; I seek passage to the guarded realm.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Centuries have passed and many disturb for reasons they felt were just.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“And you turned them down, because you wanted something in return.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“They did go to collect it.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“However returning here is no plain task. They have however, written their accounts.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“So, you have come prepared?” Tom answered with a nod. The library at the Guild was useful, the problem lies in that no one has organised the books and no book is solely about one subject. But deep in the pages there was reference to the Demon Door of Avon, the chest that it guarded and the act that must be performed to sate the Demon Door. “Many years the art of tongues have entertained, oh how I miss it.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Tom pulled a book and flipped to the first page. “In a hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit...”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=white]Robert sat silently and started a camp fire as the afternoon drew colder. Tom continued to entertain the Demon Door; tales of Hobbits, Dragons and Wizards was a luxury it had longed for. But in the distance something rustled through the leaves. Their shadowy figures stumbled closer. In the mist they were nothing but malevolent silhouettes, jagged outlines of slouched human bodies barely putting one foot before the other with any amount of grace.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Grabbing the loo roll, Robert threw the staff to Tom. Robert was poised to attack, his curved arms and hunched shoulder was in the form of a crescent, similar to the Balverines posture. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]They came in their tens, then their hundred and far beyond the horizon they came in their thousands. There was a distant white light in their eyes like a fading jewel. Bone of the dead, taken, possessed and mutilated by ghosts. Ribs curving around the chest like a breast plate, arms and legs thickened, skulls spiked and jagged and the bones of their fingers stretched and twisted out into axes and cleavers. Puppets pulled by malicious spirits who refused to pass into the next world and held onto the anger they had felt in life.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Zombies?!” Robert looked on in disbelief at oncoming army “You’re kidding me right?” Tom explained the legend of the Hollow Men; human souls, evil and afraid to reside in hell, stayed in the world of the living and now by the Shadow Court have been taught the art of taking these empty husks of human bones and desiccated flesh and using the deceased as suites of armour, so that they may walk the earth once more. “We can’t take them all.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“They’re just brittle bones and empty bodies.” Replied Tom, spinning the staff in circles either side of his torso, to loosen himself up. A first wave charged; the sockets of their skulls were glowing a bit brighter with joy. They let out breathy roars and gave into the bloodlust of a murders soul. Arms flying; hoping to hack and slash at anything that came in their way. Mindless and uncoordinated; but in their thousands can overwhelm and wear down any opponent. This was their purpose.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]The hard wooden rod smashed through skulls, shoulders and ribs. With the main body of the Hollow Men shattered on the floor the rest simply crumbled to pieces. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Robert was clawing through body after body, grabbing the corpses by the neck, throwing their limp figures through a crowd of fifteen and shattering every joint. With every pile of dust he felt a jolt in his body, electricity stabbing his body in the chest. He wreathed in the brief ecstasy and shuddered as the charge rippled around under his skin. Every fibre squeezing and swelling, every dead body that hurtled towards him, made him sweat and swell as he punched their remains into the dirt. As the wave subsided, Robert stepped forth and eyed the line of Hallow Men that stood in waiting. From behind, Tom had that the same view of Robert as before, by the river, but this time was something different. He hadn’t become taller but those shoulders had broadened and swallowed his neck entirely, that mighty torso held on a plinth of a 32 inch waist. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Tom took a moment to catch his breath. They must have gone through the first hundred Hollow Men by now. Dark patches of sweat were dotted about on his red t-shirt, even though his chest was cold in the autumn air. He propped himself up with the staff. There were too many of them, and this was their plan. Send wave after wave to wear them down, because all it takes is one slip up for an axe to cut deep into their spines. As Robert starred down the idle army, their dead faces showed nothing other than a submissive mind; Tom hurried back to the Demon Door and knocked on the nose.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Demon Door.” It yawned again as it awoke from its brief nap. “I request safe passage.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“None may enter the guarded realm” a rehearsed line. How many thousands of years must it have been waiting to say that.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“But they’re going to kill us!”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Nope!”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Look, no else is going to get here. We’ve been the first in how many years? We have to walk circles in an area no bigger than a football pitch. We’re the only company you’re gonna get!”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“My apologies”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Look I’ll finish the damn book later”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Mind your language” he turned away grunting and stomping in frustration.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Be firm with them” said the echoing voice in his head, she had obviously been keeping an eye on them since the Hallow Men arrived. He took a sharp breath. ‘What would Morigan do in my place?’ he asked himself. Summoning his inner ice bitch, he faced the stone bust.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Demon Door!” he raised his finger to him, with no patience for any more games. “I am the Keeper of the Heroes Guild, emissary to daughter of the Bowerstone champion; the Lady of Fairfax. You WILL yield and you WILL grant us safe passage to the guarded realm as it has been commanded.” The rock face was still, the stone cogs working in its mind. Robert stood beside them both, one eye on the action, the other on the enemy. He was a bit stunned; he didn’t imagine such force could come out of the slim flake. But Tom couldn’t break, not now. His eyes were locked on its’, the guise of authority and power could not falter. “Yield!”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]The stone blocks began to shuffle out to the sides; piece by piece the face pulled away, disassembling itself to reveal the dark rising staircase that was hidden behind. As the door opened the signal must have been sent. Beyond the walls was a weapon for the Hero of Strength. They could not be allowed to get their hands on it. The shadow court gave the order, for every Hollow Man to attack, and by the hundreds and thousands they did. Trampling over each other, arms and axe flying that they would shred the kin that ran ahead of and beside them, they ran with an insatiable desire to kill.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Oh cocking hell!” Tom made it through the door with a small dash. Robert wasn’t far behind when he came to the quick realisation that he was about to die. The blocks of light marble sealed behind them and they ascended the stairs.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=white]Through the wall, the stairs rose up. The tunnelling corridor curved to the surface and out of a pit in a shallow valley. Two hills stretched high either side of a setting sun and as far as they eye could see, lavender swayed in the light breeze above a butterscotch mist. They were far from the gloomy autumns of England. Tom greeted the voice in his head but heard no reply, they were far from Morigan’s guidance and alone.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“So someone made swords for me?” asked Robert, glad to be out of that narrow stair case; his shoulders had been rubbing against the walls all the way up.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Not for you, but according to the text, they’d be perfect.” [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]The Twin Dead Stars were forged from the remains of one that passed away in the heavens and fell to the earth. The town cried to the moon and mourned with them and the host of stars. The people took what they could and a mound of black broken stones was erected in its memory. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]But the time came when the country was under siege and from what he could gather; a blacksmith and a witch created the two short swords, and protected their homes.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“I like a happy ending.”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Not so happy.” Tom added, “With power comes-”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“-great responsibility, yea I’ve heard this-[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“-corruption”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Oh”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Furthers steps lead them up to a pale pedestal holding a wooden and iron chest.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Eventually everyone wanted to wield them. The blacksmith and the witch decided to hide them here.” Texts and mention of these blades were scarce but they scattered like breadcrumbs in the library. The trail was easy to follow once you’re on the right path. Not only were they hidden behind a Demon Door but the gateway itself was hidden. Once you came into the field your path had to match that of “the family from which it fell from”. There were references that the dead star was the fourth jewel on a warrior’s belt. Tom and Robert had navigated that field and as they dragged their feet, drew out Orion in the long grass. At the tip of the blade the Demon Door appeared to them in the field, and never to those who would not walk the enchanted path of the witch. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]They ascended the steps of the pedestal and Tom reached out to open the wooden chest. The heavy lid wouldn’t move. He shuffled to get his body and arms in under the oak wedge but still nothing. The lock was secure; hundred years of aging hadn’t weakened it with rust and one little Guild Keeper wasn’t going to change that. Robert swaggered his way to it and nudged Tom out of the way with all his weight. Flexing; massive mountains of muscles erupted out from his double bicep pose. He rolled his shoulder, becoming intoxicated with his strength, enticing Tom with his bare body and announcing himself as alpha male. As his fingers got between the two pieces of wood, his body didn’t move. The chest refused to open even for a man whose strength could clearly fold a motorcycle in half.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Out of Tom’s bag of tricks, he pulled out the broken silver key, only the handle remained; the teeth had been torn off. He placed in the lock and gave it a solid hard turn and with an iron clang the chest opened. Half a key, which could fit all locks.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“It’s all yours” Tom invited, taking a step back. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Two short swords slept in the bottom on the box. Such inspiring beauty; the grip was black leather, weaving down the 6 inch hilt to a chrome cap. The iron cross guard reached out from between the blade and handle, into two spires. The blade itself was magnificent; the spine was a black rock forged from the dying star, an inch wide in the image of dark marble but the blade’s edge were two centimetres of blinding white steel, with a hooked tip.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]As Rob gently lifted them out, the sky turned black, day turned to night as a vale of darkness dropped over the lands, and high above was a ribbon of dotted lights.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“They’ve come to see it too,” whispered Tom, “the stars, their whole family are here.” As they were lifted into the light, the star shone a little bit brighter and Tom noticed something glisten at the base of the blade. A metal half sun rose from the centre of the blade guard and cased four fragments of gem, split into four sects and arranged like a windmill. But these slithers of crystals ran deep into the sword and through the other end. A deep granite jewel, followed, by a bright diamond, dark again, then light. Tom held the heavy blades and eyed them closely.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“It can’t be” one of the books he kept on him was a subject he could never remember in its entirety. Rennock’s Journal, a guide to precious stones and their magic’s. “It’s a Legendary Weapon.” One of a few weapons where magic and metal entwined “The dark one is StoneSkin, renders your body impervious, the white one is StarBurn, think reverse solar power, you’ll do more hurt at night.” Robert took both swords in his hands, they were a perfect fit, he couldn’t explain but Tom knew, the way Roberts rounded arms curved and those curves continued over his hands and down the blades. He looked back to path, with the hole and stairs at the end. “Ready to head back out there?”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=white]Elegant brutality, it was the only way he could describe it. Tom stood beside the Demon Door as Robert slashed his way through the Hollow Men. Almost all trace of the Balverine technique was drowned out by the graceful and skilful execution. Only 971 Hollow Men now; the rest were ash into the wind.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Tom took the opportunity to perch himself on a rock and fulfil his agreement with the Demon Door. He flicked through the pages until he found where he stopped. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]749[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]He continued to read, loudly over the sound of smashing bone and metal, but he didn’t seem to have the attention of the Demon Door.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]530[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]The Hollow Men, also hollow in the skull, continued to throw themselves at him relentlessly, and their remains were flung over the countryside. Half a skull rolled its way over onto Tom’s foot. He kicked it away, brushing the dust off his new Etnies.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]382[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“How are you getting along there?” Tom called out over his shoulder.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Fine thanks” he heard Robert yell back over the cries and screams of decapitated Hollow Men.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]62.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Bravo!” applauded the Demon Door as Tom closed the book shut, he smiled up to the stone bust.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Any time,”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]0[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Not you, you blabbering fool. Honestly such literary marvel wasted on your dull tongue.” He spat out, “Hero of Strength, such a spectacular display of graceful cruelty, I bow to your artistic carnage. Hail maestro!”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Everyone’s a critic!”[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]“Ignore him.” Came Morigan’s voice, “The next city is not that far, go and get some rest. I will make some arrangements for the two of you.” As Tom and Robert gathered their things, they bid farewell to the Demon Door, which entered another century of sleep. [/COLOR]

[Greggrth]

Another great chapter; I like that Tom didn't let Rob walk all over him just cos he's much bigger. An enjoyable read, looking forward for more

[dolphinbad]

Delicious! Great chapter! You describe very well the events.