*Ssshhh*
"Ahhh…."
*Ssshhhh*
The soothing sound of shifting sands gave the room tranquillity like no other. Incense from the burner filled the air with notes of sandalwood and lavender.
A large handsome man with a well-trimmed full beard rested shirtless amidst a mound of the most delicate pillows from the Empire of the Sands. Candles lit the room softly and warmly, bouncing light off his beautiful olive skin, casting shadows over his round pecs and cobblestone abs.
"Hmm," the man hummed deeply as he lay with closed eyes. "You have once again disturbed my slumber."
A shift in the shadows and a man cloaked in purple moved forward.
"Former Leader of the Strings. To what, I owe this pleasure," the muscular man said as he stretched out his muscles and opened his dreamy turquoise blue eyes.
"It's good to see you again, Dust Devil," said Ambrose as the candlelight reflected off his amethyst eyes. "Leader of the Percussion."
The Assassin moved silently across the Moroccan-decorated room. His eyes scanned the exquisite wood cravings and breath-taking tapestries as he kept his guard high.
Dust Devil laughed nonchalantly, "I never fancy that title nor the responsibilities it comes with."
Focusing his gaze on the muscular man, Ambrose said with a serious look, "I need your help, Dust Devil."
The Leader of Percussion cracked out a laugh before looking back at Ambrose. They were not close friends, to say the least. They were hardly friends at all. Dust Devil never had any intentions of crossing paths with the other division leaders. Instead, he preferred to keep things smooth and quiet in Percussion's territories in Bismuth.
"But…"
Dust Devil frowned as memories returned to him. He did owe Ambrose a favor back when he was in Banshee Ensemble, Rustmore's infamous underground organization, before the Assassin deflected to join the ranks of the Royal Family through the League of Steel.
What seemed odd to Dust Devil was that this prideful former leader of the String would come to seek his help.
"Ugh," muttered Ambrose suddenly as his head tilted slightly like a headache had struck him. A gleam of gold flashed across his amethyst eyes.
What was that...?
Dust Devil held his curious gaze on the Assassin as he crossed his muscular legs. Thoughts raced through lofty man's mind as he rested his head comfortably back into his pillows.
"Fine," said Dust Devil after a long pause. "I'll return the favor from before."
Ambrose was slightly startled by the man's agreement. The Dust Devil was known as a man notoriously challenging to work with. Most of the time, his lackey would do all the work because the leader never liked getting his hands dirty.
Recomposing himself, the Assassin nodded, "Details will be given soon."
With that, he blended into the shadows and left the lair of one of Rustmore's most dangerous men.
As he was about to enter the ward, Jaguar turned to see a woman left in a hurry. Tears filled her eyes as she tried to hold back from bawling.
Diana?
His young mentee, Renegade , was lying in bed. A look of emotional exhaustion on the Rustmorian's gorgeous face as he rested with closed eyes. Dried streams of tears stained his cheeks.
"How are you doing, Renegade?" asked Jaguar as he stood by the young hero's bed.
Opening his eyes, Renegade stared blankly into space, feeling lost.
"Something feels wrong, Jaguar. My feelings... They are messed up," said Renegade. His gaze shifted uncontrollably. "I've... I've hurt Diana."
Thoughts of his encounter with Mistletoe returned to haunt the hero. Despite being free from the influence of the Primal Cologne, Renegade continued to remain trapped in his memories with the villain.
Renegade startled slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder. His mentor Jaguar was leaning in close to him.
Too close.
The Rustmorian prince quickly glanced away as his face reddened. Jaguar was an attractive and muscular man, dressed in his all-black hero suit. His handsome face was covered by a cowl, revealing his sexy jawline. Muscular scarred arms extended from his tall frame.
Fuck. What's wrong with me?
Renegade bit his lips as an image of Mistletoe flashed in his memories. Those lustful thoughts of that man's musk lingered on.
Confused, the young hero rested on his side, his back against the Kant Guardian.
"Renegade," Jaguar said firmly and coldly. "You have countless people depending on you. This is not something that should topple you."
The young hero grunted frustratedly before lifting the sheets over his head.
"Just go, Jaguar. Let me be."
Turning to the door, Jaguar shot his mentor a last glance before shaking his head in disappointment.
"Hello, everyone."
Jaguar stared at the young man seated across him from the Guardian's table. He had ginger red hair, deep brown eyes, and a shy smile. Wearing a dark red jacket over his hero suit, the young hero looked no older than his mentee, Renegade. Younger even.
On the right of the young hero was Lt. Maverick , the hero leader of the Kant Alliance. The other Kant Guardians filled up the remaining seats.
Gallant was gleaming brightly. The hero of the Beast Gauntlets was smiling even more than usual. In his orange super-suit, Gallant wore a pair of golden mystical gauntlets styled in an oriental design.
Jaguar's gaze briefly turned to the other Guardian beside Gallant. Nonchalant as he always was, MoonDust was utterly unimpressed, seated with his eyes closed. The pale Nature Sorcerer was dressed in his dark purple coat over his high-collar super-suit. A pendant of a moon hung from his muscular neck.
Lt. Maverick addressed the team of Kant Alliance's most powerful superheroes, "Guardians. It had been years since I had taken over this position from Captain Solar . Since his return, we had kept a spot open in the Guardians, waiting for his return."
Pausing for a moment, Lt. Maverick said with regret in his deep voice, "Our research team is working very hard to bring him back to his glorious self, but we have yet to see any results."
Jaguar frowned.
It can't be. This young boy in front of them? Maverick could not be serious, right?
"After assessing our heroes in the Alliance, I would like you to welcome Fable into our team," said Lt. Maverick as he broke briefly into a smile.
"Yes!" Gallant yelled excitedly and leaped out of his seat. His excitement was obvious to Jaguar.
Fable was Gallant's mentee years ago. After the apprentice hero was promoted to a full-fledged superhero, they maintained a close relationship. One would say that they are almost like father and son. No doubt, part of the reason for Fable's entry to the Kant Guardian was due to Gallant being a strong advocate of his.
MoonDust sneered. Opening his eyes, he turned to the hero leader, "Is that all?"
"Not yet, MoonDust," Lt. Maverick said, turning to Jaguar. "I've received a message from League of Steel. They want Renegade to return to Rustmore immediately."
"What?" Jaguar stood out. "What did you tell them?"
"I agree with them," replied Lt. Maverick. "Your incompetence as his mentor had soured our relationships with the League and embarrassed Kant Alliance to the rest of the Republic."
Jaguar gritted his jaw. The League of Steel was the hero alliance of Rustmore. Knowing Renegade's lineage, it was inevitable that they would demand his immediate return. But it was clear his mentee was not ready, still recovering from the shock of Christmas.
"Lt. Maverick! Renegade is not -"
"Not another word, Jaguar. He has to go."
"But -"
"He's your responsibility, Jaguar. You failed to make sure he was safe."
Slamming his hand on the table, Lt. Maverick stood up with a serious look. There was no negotiating with the hard-headed lieutenant.
“The least you could do is to ensure his safe travels back to Rustmore," scoffed Lt. Maverick before leaving the room. "Guardians. Dismissed."
Watching the rest of the heroes leave, Jaguar uttered under his breath, "Fuck…."
The clanking of silverware and occasional ooh and ahh could hardly lower his spirit as Caleb Hatt sat at the restaurant. Dining with him was his mentor and dearest friend, Andrew Matterson. Wide-grinned and chatty as usual, the mighty hero Gallant was excitedly going through the menu with the head waiter.
Curious eyes darted toward their table frequently. After all, seeing two prominent heroes in public was not a daily sight, especially the Kant Guardians. Handsome as he was, Caleb hardly stood out beside the behemoth frame of Gallant. His mentor was a mountain of muscle under an exquisite suit.
Dressed in a black suit himself with his signature scarf around his neck, the young hero smiled at his mentor as he finally finished ordering.
"So now that food is on its way. Tell me! How have the last few weeks of being a Kant Guardian felt like?" Andrew asked with his widest grin.
Caleb laughed. His mentor's smiles were always so contagious. In them, he could see joy and bravery. It was little wonder why Gallant could always put people at ease around him.
"Wow. It was not what I expected," Caleb confessed. "It's fulfilling work but sure is a whole lot of work."
"Fantastic! Protecting everyone is not always a walk in a park," winked Gallant. His gaze followed as the waiter came over to present a bottle of wine. "Look at how busy we were. Only could find time for this after a whole month."
Caleb smiled. It was nice to finally able to catch up with his mentor.
Since the Christmas incident, turmoil had been brewing between Rustmore and the Republic of Kant. Negotiations had been taking a toll on the Guardians. It was one thing to take on gigantic monsters and crime lords and another to deal with political issues.
"Things are really getting heated up," said Andrew. His face flushed with a moment of exhaustion before his usual optimism took over. "Well, that aside. I'm so glad we finally have time to celebrate your promotion."
"Absolute, Andrew! No point in dwelling on things we can't resolve," said Caleb.
Gallant's words seemed to imply that a war between the continents was on the horizon. Superheroes are not usually drafted in political wars, but things are different when a superhero lies at its root.
Were the Guardians prepared to go up against the might of Rustmore – The Hammers?
Caleb took a sip of his wine. His mind was too occupied with the thoughts of a superhero war to enjoy the dark cherry notes of his drink.
*Clank*
“W-what?” Gallant said as he looked at a table across the fine-dining room. A man in a tuxedo was resting his face on the tenderloin on his plate. Eyes closed and asleep.
*Clank*
*Clank*
*Clank*
The diners were dropping like flies, falling asleep abruptly during their meal. It was as though a wave of exhaustion had washed across the room.
A loud clatter rang across the restaurant as a waiter collapsed onto the ground, smashing the dish he was about to serve.
It was clear something was amiss.
Gallant and Fable quickly got up from their table, glancing around only to find a strange phenomenon had placed every single person in the restaurant into a deep slumber.
“Be careful, Caleb,” warned Gallant as he looked for the one responsible. “Someone’s making everyone sleep.”
As his eyelids felt heavy, Fable knew it was magic at work. He pulled out a small handbook from his back pouch without wasting a second. As a Runic Mage, he always carries his spell books with him. In his unique case, his spell books were a set of fairytale stories.
"Aperi ianuam fabularis. Da mihi vires heroum intus. Prince of the Little Briar Rose."
After his incantation, Fable took a deep breath as the drowsiness washed off his eyes. A light golden glow surrounded his body, dispelling the induced fatigue.
Sounds of shifting sands drew his attention to the kitchen door. A muscular man wore sand dune clothes, exposing his toned body and bulging abs. He was clearly a foreigner with his unique yet dreamy features, especially the pair of turquoise blue eyes.
“Ahhh… The Guardians certainly live up to their expectations,” said the man. His half-lidded eyes rolled as he let out a heavy sigh. “I was really hoping this would be easier.”
Fable watched as his muscular mentor heaved heavily. Gallant was affected by the fatigue. His eyes occasionally twitched, trying to shake off the drowsiness. Booming in his deep voice, Gallant demanded, “What is going on here?”
The man rubbed one of his eyes tiredly and let out a yawn. “I’m simply returning an acquaintance's favor.”
Suddenly, a mound of golden sand swirled over from behind the stranger and shot toward his mentor. As quickly as it went, Gallant’s hands glowed in orange as his famous Gauntlets of the Beast activated. His mighty fist smashed into the striking sand, dispersing the minerals in all directions. Leaping towards the sandman, he rammed down his mystic gauntlets, only to hit into a shield of solid sand.
“Augh,” Gallant grunted as the sand shield blocked his powerful punch. It was rare that anything could resist the force of his blows.
But Fable knew they had the upper hand in this two-on-one situation. With Gallant distracting the stranger, he pulled out another storybook and incanted, "Aperi ianuam fabularis. Da mihi vires heroum intus. The Pied Piper of Hamelin."
Immediately, a maniacal laugh exploded in his head. Fable gritted his teeth. He always hated using The Pied Piper story. This storybook character was never in his right mind. In his hand, a golden Zauberflote appeared. Fable placed his lips on the magic pipe, and a melody filled the room. From all corners, large and ferocious rats seemingly appeared from nowhere and raced toward the sandman, baring their sharp fangs.
“Rats again?!? You are not using my story to its potential!”
Fable frowned at the Pied Piper’s comment. Using this particular character’s powers to their full potential would be devastating. Rats were the only safe option.
Despite the ravaging army of rats, the stranger’s sand erupted in spikes, piercing through the monstrous rodents and striking them down instantly. The rats let out shrills of pain before their eventual demises.
“Humans. Use those sleeping humans. Will you? Please… Fable?”
“Damn it,” Fable cursed as he closed the book of The Pied Piper, dissolving the magic. He was unprepared for this sudden encounter and had only one other book left in his pouch.
His eyes watched as Gallant ripped off the sleeves of his tuxedo suit, displaying his rippling arm muscles as he finally shattered through the sand shields.
It was clear that they had the advantage. But suddenly, the stranger managed to grab Gallant’s face in the palm of his hand. A burst of sand exploded onto the mighty Kant Guardian, forcing a powerful wave of fatigue. Gallant knocked off the hand, leaping back a couple of feet before collapsing on a knee, panting with the induced exhaustion.
“Ugh, we need to end this soon.” Fable pulled out his third book and chanted his incantation, “Aperi ianuam fabularis. Da mihi vires heroum intus. Regulus."
The yellow scarf around the young mage’s neck lit up. The familiar voice of his favorite storybook character spoke in his mind, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. It is nice to see you again, my friend Fable.”
“I need your help, my little prince.”
“That… that I can kindly do.”
Thorny vines grew from the ground beneath the unsuspecting sandman. The stranger was surprised as the rose stems twined around him like venomous snakes. His olive skin was cut by the sharp prinks, injecting poison into his body.
Fable grinned. The Little Prince was his strongest story, given his affinity with the character. That meant the toxins from the rose were extremely powerful. No regular man could withstand its potent effects.
As the sandman collapsed onto his knees, Fable let out a sigh of relief. The victory was theirs. But who was this strange man? The way he dressed seemed to indicate that he was from the Empire of the Sands. This stranger needed to be interrogated on what business he had on Kant’s soil.
Fable held a hand to his chin as his mind was in deep thoughts.
Out of the blue, the Little Prince’s voice shouted, “Look out behind you, my friend!”
Unguarded, Fable’s face was smashed in by a solid metal ball. His storybooks flew out of his hand as his vision immediately turned black. Rendered unconscious, his magic faded from his books and dispelled the rose thorns around the sandman.
The metal ball flew back to its owner. Another man dressed in purple stood at the corner of the restaurant. The shadow of his cloak covered his face. Bending over, he picked up the young mage’s body.
“Ugh, Fable,” grunted Gallant. Seeing his mentee in the enemies’ hands gave the hero renewed strength. He let out a roar before he charged toward them. But his path was quickly blocked by the bodies of the diners.
“W-what?” Gallant said with shock. He quickly noticed each of them was still unconscious, but pieces of metallic jewelry suspended their bodies. Glancing past the human wall, he saw a set of amethyst eyes staring back coldly within the hood before disappearing into the shadows with his mentee.
“Those eyes. It can’t be….”
A note from Nox
Hello everyone, thank you for reading my story!
If you like what you read, hop onto my blog for more superhero stories – www.shatteredhonor.com v. I also have a Twitter where I will post regular updates on my work - https://twitter.com/Shattered_Honor .
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