The Book of Syndianite

Skeletor

   Summary: Would it not be fitting for a champion to have a steed as bad ass as himself?

   Warnings: Cursing, fighting, weapons mention, dead horses

   The mobs that followed Dianite were not the friendliest. Most, if not all, immediately attacked whichever human, or humanoid, in Tom's case, happened to be closest. Among these mobs, however, remain a few passive beings. Such as the zombie and skeleton horses. Now, everyone knows that horses are Mianite's mob, but the Nether god has been known to "corrupt" his brother's mobs. Or, in his opinion, improve them

   These particular horses are rather rare, as they don't spawn as naturally as their traditional counterparts. Rather, they have a chance to spawn once a horse dies. Today, in an oddly peaceful Nether, a herd of skeleton horses had spawned together, just beyond his personal temple.

   On the Overworld it was creeping closer to midnight. The heroes slept peacefully, for the most part. His beloved champion was sprawled out in his closet of a bedroom, bundled under countless blankets. The god stood in the doorway, taking a moment to study the serene figure. Then he snagged the blankets off his body.

   A low groan came from the zombie, now rolled up against the wall. His eyes cracked open, unhappy with the sudden cold. As they found the god, he reluctantly got up. 

   "What the hell, it's like dead o'clock in the mornin'." He tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. "And I actually went to sleep at a decent time for once," he ended with a grumble. 

   Dianite let his eyes sweep over sweatpants and long-sleeved shirt the man was wearing, appreciating the look. Rolling his eyes, he picked the sleepy mortal up, cradling him in his arms. 

   "Well, you'll want to see this before they leave," he responded quietly, letting Tom lay his head against his chest. He received a low groan in reply.

   With his champion secured in his arms he returned to the Nether, floating above the scene he wished to show Tom. The zombie hummed in approval at the increase in temperature brought by the realm. Jostling his shoulder, Dianite gestured to the group of skeletal horses below them. 

   "This is what I want you to see," he whispered to the groggy male.

   Tom opened his eyes, rousing from the light doze he had fallen into. In the direction his god had gestured stood pale, bony horses, the white highlighted in a smoldering orange of the lava light. 

   "Damn..." Tom uttered, "That is so fuckin' cool." Excitement bounced in his eyes as he turned his eyes to his god. "Let's get closer," He practically glowed with jubilation. 

   Chuckling, Dianite obligingly floated down closer, letting his feet touch the ground. The closest skeleton warily made its way over, curious to see the green thing held in the Nether god's arms. Dia carefully grasped Tom's hand and held it out for the horse to inspect.

   For a moment, the horse sniffed at his hand, judging him. Then, with a snort, he pushed his bony muzzle into Tom's hand, who proceeded to stroke it with awe. 

   "Did you see that," Tom crowed to his god, "We're bonding. This is a very magical moment." His face was very serious, though he couldn't contain the smile threatening to burst back onto his face. And then he turned back to him with those, pleading, willful eyes. "Can I keep him?" Dia set his chin in the zombie's fluffy hair. 

   "Only if you prove you deserve him." Tom pouted at him has he pulled them away from the mob, floating in the air once more.

   "Back to bed with you," he hummed to Tom, bringing him closer to his chest. By the time he had returned to Tom's mountain home Tom had already fallen asleep. 

   "Bored with my presence I see," Dianite teased to the slumbering champion. He settled the zombie back into his bed before retrieving the blankets from the floor. And if he stayed with him until the sun rose, that was no one's business.

~

   Hardly few days later found Tom once again fighting the people he called friends. Tucker had gone Super Salt, and was relentlessly attacking Nade, who just wanted to get home without being messed with again. He enlisted the help of Tom, who proceeded to do his best to destroy his lovely friends. 

   He cackled at his pursuers as they tried and, once again, failed to land a blow on the agile zombie. Apart from a few scratches upon his armor, he was fairing rather well. Fiery arrows rained from the sky as Tom landed yet another hit. Tucker let out another yell at the blow and Tom let loose a predatory smile. 

   "This is fun!" Tom dodged another volley of arrows. He readied another shot and aimed for Sonja, barely missing her. 

   "This isn't fun Tom," the Mianite champion shouted back at him. Of course, getting beat up by a single person with three on your side wasn't fun. But neither was attacking the same man over and over, giving him no chance to retaliate. Nade had long since gotten away, but Tom was intent on teaching his foes a lesson.

   The battle raged well into the night, ender pearls sailing through the air alongside flaming projectiles as Tom found success against his weary opponents. 

   "Just leave if you want to." He sent a smirk out to Tucker, who responded with grade ten bitch face. With little thought, he made a mad dash for his home, his companions having already left or been defeated. This, for sure, was the highlight of his week.

~

   Turns out he was wrong as all hell. His return home from the end found not only a dragon's egg at the head of his bed, but the best gift to date. From what seemed like ages ago, a battle-ready, skeletal horse lounged just outside his house. 

   "Holy shit!" Tom eagerly, climbed into the horse's nether rack housing, giddy with excitement. No. Fucking. Way. He vaulted on the horse's back, who let out a huff of irritation, and jumped them out of the pen. Despite the obvious lack of muscles, it ran swifter than any horse he had before. When he settled down, he noticed the note upon the stable.

    'Thomas, Take this as a gift for the bloodshed'

   Of course his god was happy with his actions. Tom sported a wolfish grin. Chaos always makes him happy.