Finally I've updated the Herry chapter! It was a little difficult, I don't think I captured him as well as the others. And Archie is next - that's a challenge. Expect to wait even longer for that, especially with school starting soon (tears). Once again thanks to everyone who reviewed, it always makes me happy inside to see the e-mail form the fanfiction bot :) Also, I do not own Class of the Titans, so sad.
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The Seven Keys
Herry
It would be hot today, Herry could tell, and already the air hung greedily on the green grass after the thankfully unseasonal rain last night. He sat on the peeling white porch, watching birds flitting through the early-morning sunlit mist with a far-off air and already sensing the change in the temperature.
He was accustomed to this; rising with the sun in order to work, or do another odd chore for his grandmother, or if neither was the case, have a fully proper breakfast before normal daily activities. Today was a complete exception, however, with nothing needing to be done until mid-day, and breakfast finished quickly. Thus Herry was enjoying the calm of the early yellow morning on the back porch.
Herry had always enjoyed just watching – sunrises, birds, girls – but his ability to find pleasure in the simpler things put him off as just simple to his classmates. He was not the brightest in his class, Herry knew that, but his heart was in everything he did. This did not, however, prevent Herry's classmates from making snide remarks behind his back or, if to his face, using wit they were sure would go over his head.
The tone of voice and general gist of the insults, however, had still gotten through to Herry, but he took everything with a grain of salt and stood it calmly for as long as he could, until one day after school his temper got the best of him and he shook the main offenders' senses into next week.
Herry's inhuman strength, brought about by his hearty appetite and aptitude for farm work (so his granny reasoned), was not displayed often. Herry was as baffled by it as the next person, but if a need arose he was not intimidated to use it. After that day, all those who had witnessed Herry's feat kept their mouths as shut as possible – in his presence. The effectiveness of his violent tactics made him resort to them more quickly as he got older, and didn't help his reputation as a 'dumb giant'.
Herry got up with a contented sigh and stepped off the porch, striding through the soaked grass with what was almost a nostalgic air. The forest near his granny's property was lined with colourful wildflowers, and Herry stooped to gently pick a handful, heading back to the old farmhouse with a fragrant bouquet.
He reached the quaint house, with its white siding and green shutters, and stepped through the screen door into the cozy interior he knew by heart. A fireplace in the far corner, currently unlit due to the temperature, warmed the conjoined living room and dining room in the winter months. Off the dining room was the kitchen, lovingly adorned with glazed terra cotta plates and drying herbs. A door separated the kitchen from the front hall, the end of which hosted stairs leading up to the bed and bathrooms, and large windows everywhere lit up the house with the prairie sun.
Herry's granny turned from her rocking chair facing the fireplace as he came in and smiled toothily when she saw what he was carrying.
"Oh Herry what a nice idea!" she exclaimed in her unique accent, her small frame cradling the flowers as she went to put them on water.
Herry, having been raised by his granny, was old-fashioned in a sense, taught the morals of society through her reminiscing. His parents were dead: they had been gone from before he could remember, and from the age of 2 his granny raised him on her farm as she did his father 35 years earlier. Due to this Herry was always prone to small gestures like flowers, and his farm-boy charm proved him quite the object of affection in his early teens.
The absence of his parents hadn't distressed Herry though; his grandmother was a tireless, spirited woman who had kept usually good-natured Herry happier still with farm chores and stories of his parents. Even in the most awkward times growing up Herry never seemed depressed that he was raised by his grandmother instead of actual parents.
His granny came back from the kitchen, the flowers tucked into a large glass vase. "Herry, you should start in the garden soon," she said as she placed the vase on the table and assessed the day through the screen door.
"Yes granny," came Herry's usual answer, as he headed back onto the porch and to a small shed that contained gardening supplies. With Herry's help, his granny had set up quite a successful garden beside their house, full of flavourful vegetables and herbs they ate or sold. Today was the day for Herry to turn the soil in preparation for the impending seeds. He chose a suitable shovel and strolled to the garden, reveling in the sun.
Herry stood before the damp patch of earth like a giant and imagined proudly the last year's efforts. With a satisfied exhale he planted the first strike and upturned the first shovelful of moist dirt. The buzzing of cicadas and the smell of fresh earth took Herry back to when he could first remember working in the garden. His strength meant he could help his weakening grandmother even at a young age, and many reasoned that his good-natured attitude was from living such a simple life with nature, free of the stresses and pollutants of the city.
Herry continued upturning the soil in straight rows until he was back where he started. As he raised his shovel for the last time a glint of gold reflected into his eye and he stopped, planting the shovel elsewhere and kneeling close to where he thought he'd seen the light. Sifting through the dirt he'd just turned over, his hand brushed something hard which he scooped up and wiped off vigorously on his pants.
Sweating from the heat, Herry wiped his brow and peered at what he had found. It was a golden circle that hung off a linked chain, with strange symbols engraved all around an arrow attached to one side of the circle, the arrow pointing to a symbol that looked like an 'i'. On the other side, as Herry turned the heavy pendant over, was a swirled H carved into the flat golden surface.
Herry stood with the medallion in his hand and hoisted the shovel from the ground onto his shoulder. Walking back to the house, not looking where he was going he dropped the shovel on the porch and pushed through the screen door with a creak, still examining the pendant in his hand.
"Granny, who did you say used to live on this property?" he asked without looking up. His grandmother came beside Herry curiously to look at what had him transfixed, the golden medallion at eye level with her.
"No one extraordinary," she commented, craning her neck to briefly look over the pendant before searching her memories for something to link it to their house. "I've found other things in the fields before but nothing like that," she noted.
Herry turned the circle around again and made a pensive noise. His granny put a thin hand on his wrist to pull his arm down and get a closer look at the pendant.
"I'm not sure what it is, Herry, but it is meant for you," she said enigmatically, pressing it gently into his hand with a strange look in her downcast eyes. Herry furrowed his brow but pocketed the item. They both fell silent the air hung like a viel between them.
"Alright, well, I'm going to head to the store for a drink," Herry said with an exaggerated breath, breaking the mysterious feeling that had enveloped the room. "All this hard work has made me thirsty for a slush."
His granny, acting as if Herry had just asked about previous tenants and the last minute had not happened, nodded and waved him off. "Have fun dear. Come back quickly," she said as Herry smiled and headed out the door.
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And Herry is done. Keep up your lovely reviews please :) I will try to write Archie's fairly quickly! PS I know the director posted some line drawings of the pendants, but I've kept 'my' design for the sake of the story. If only he'd posted them sooner.