Black Star

This is an entry for the Finish the Story Contest - Week #20.

Here is @f3nix's story:

Black Star

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And finally dawn came, mercilessly, to reveal the blasphemous massacre of that night. The sulphur smell of the Flaegreian fields was blending with that of blood and entrails, while clots of death, horribly coagulated one with the other, slowly melted inside the iridescent acid water pools. There was no honour of weapons for the vanquished, whose remains were hideously smeared on the battlefield.

Instead, something else was crawling in that silent scene: the unnatural profanity of a rape, far beyond the concept of victory of one army over the other. It was as if the ground, pierced by fumaroles and teeming with mutilated bodies, wanted to shout to the sky a silent cry of faltering horror.

From the piles of corrupt meat, a black pillar emerged in the middle of the plain. An invisible and incandescent flame was emanating from that dark mountain, making the landscape all around tremulous due to the intense heat.

"I brought you some wine, Xarag." The man in armour approached cautiously to the black and immobile human tower.

"I do not find it right that you have to stay still for all this time instead of celebrating ..".

"Tell me you did not come alone just with that nauseating spicy wine." Glaring through the black metal of the helmet, the paladin abruptly interrupted the officer.

"I also have the serum, Xarag. Our queen never forgets the needs of her most valiant servants"

"Oh yes, she's always so thoughtful". The sudden pain obliged the paladin to an added effort for emitting the last word, which barely came out through the bloody clenched teeth.

"Do not worry, I cannot figure out how much you suffer, Xarag, and I won’t even dare to, but I promise you that also this time, when it has cooled down, we will manage to get you out of the gift".

"The gift, of course, guard of the queen. I know you'll do a good job with that piece of meat that still sticks to my bones," the black tower murmured in a metal hiss. "Now pour the whey into the wine and then leave me. You, at least, go and celebrate."

Xarag, the Black Star, barely approached the chalice at the deformed hole of the helmet and drank avidly. His meats, slowly devoured by his own armour, produced sounds that he would never get used to. He wanted to look up from that vision of death, he wanted to look for a star in the sky, among the poisonous and sulphur fumes, but the steel colour of the abyss no longer allowed it by many battles. He wanted to think to her, if only he didn’t have to bleed for the effort of not being torn apart in his body, mind and soul at the same time. For him, the battle would have still continued in solitude for long hours.

The fires projected cheerful arabesques on the cobalt walls of the camp tents, where the unrestrained bacchanal of victory was taking place. A group of officers argued in the galley tent, away from the crowds.

"I told you they did not fight! The angel approached, and they just looked at each other for a very long time .. at least that's what I saw as long as I could," said the young man with shelled eyes to the rest of the group.

"If only I could fight one of those damned celestials simply by standing by.. Maybe even while scratching my balls.” The silly laugh of the inexperienced official interrupted in a strangled sob.

"Listen to me well, piece of dung. Just because you miraculously survived your first battle and you got good marks at the academy, do you think you gained the right to talk about the Black Star?" The veteran's arm had relentlessly triggered at the young man's throat with a ruthless grip.

"First of all, that was not just an angel, but it was one of the Powers, sent into battle directly from the third triad. Have you already forgotten the lessons on the enemy hierarchy, cutie?" The grip loosened just before the colour of the young officer passed from red to dark purple.

"Also," continued the veteran, "you can bet they were fighting, as the Power had managed to overtake the first two auras of Xarag's armour and was now attempting to force the third inner one.. "

"Disintegration of the essence." Like gnarled invisibile fingers, a murmur ran through the soldiers.

The senior officer would have continued but was interrupted by a loud disturbing roar. The immediate shock-wave overwhelmed those present and all the contents of the tent. Perhaps the battle was not completely over.

---

And this is my ending:

Xarag watched as the guard hurried down the black armor. Even with ropes and footholds in place, the vertical climb was still quite a feat. After he had disappeared in the yellow fumes below, the paladin sighed and fell back on his seat inside the helmet.

The heat was excruciating. Xarag's skin was hissing and smoking, peeling off in places, every nerve on fire, blood close to boiling. The serum was helping with the pain but would do nothing more. A queen's mercy.

That was the Black Star: human-shaped black metal pillar, as tall as ten men; mystical armor of a forgotten race of giants; oldest sentinel; strongest of weapons... and the title of its chosen sacrifices.

The gift had protected the queendom for centuries. Alas, it came at a price. The death-light, which turned even sand to molten glass, would not burn red unless someone was stationed inside the armor--which would then stay closed until cooled down. No mortal could withstand that hellfire. Only paladins, trained for resilience and self-healing, could hope to endure the night.

Sometimes we do, thought Xarag. It was getting harder to breathe.

---

---

Somewhere underground, purplish ambiance surrounded a throne. There sat an ancient man, with long white hair and beard, wielding a double-pointed metal wand. He aimed the wand at a kneeling, hooded figure.

"Report, my Baron."

From the depths of the hood, two voices answered in unison. "My lord, it is as you predicted when we awoke from our millennial stasis. I witnessed the red flare. Your old enemy endures."

"The super-alloy is indeed indestructible," said the man, unperturbed. "But it needs a hero to guide it in battle. And all heroes, unlike me, must age and pass." He considered. "Let us again test their mettle."

Raising his wand high, he shouted: "I. HAVE! RETURNED!"

An earthquake followed.

---

---

Xarag wondered if he'd lost his mind. The armor is alive! Suddenly, all around him, metal surfaces were sliding and moving, revealing small pulsing lights, strange handles, minute levers, beeping alarms. A large object shaped like a bull's head grew from the floor: instinctively, he grabbed the horns.

They felt cool to the touch. The heat is gone, he finally noticed.

He pushed against the horns. The horizon slanted.

---

Among the tents, the roar was increasing in volume. The younger officer pointed at the gigantic dark statue. "Did it just move?"
"Shut your fuck-hole," answered the veteran, but still he looked up. Right then, the Black Star took a step forward.

They ran.

---

Inside the cockpit, a frantic paladin was trying to make sense of his situation. Inscribed in the panels, he found celestial symbols--the many languages of the invaders--and he had been taught some. 'Stone', he read. And this one, must be Latin, stands for 'and'. Then... 'Fist'. Stone And Fist. Rock Et Punch.

It makes no sense, he thought. Then, wish me luck, my love.

He clicked the switch and became legend.