Confronting the Dragon

by Mark Cheverton

  “The boy . . . he’s riding with . . .”

  “What’s he doing?”

  The warriors all uttered their disbelief at what had just happened, and somehow, Gameknight999 could feel his companion smile behind him, and it caused the smile to spread to him.

  Maybe it was possible.

  “The herd . . . the herd . . . I have to check the herd,” the young boy said in Gameknight’s ear.

  “Fine,” Gameknight said as he glanced down at Stitcher.

  He found her giving him a huge smile the stretched around her flat face, bending around her boxy head, lighting up her face. She reached out and patted him on the leg, clearly proud of the User-that-is-not-a-user.

  Yep, just like my li’l sis’.

  Gameknight smiled back at her, then turned his head to speak to Herder.

  “Ok, to the herd,” he said as he guided his horse out of formation and to the center of the column. As he rode away, Gameknight could hear Stitcher saying something to the old woman who had come up to her side.

  “You see,” Stitcher said, “the User-that-is-not-a-user can overcome anything, even what’s inside us.”

  Turning to look at the young girl, Gameknight found her still smiling at him, her hand now clenched at her chest in salute.

  CHAPTER 6

  AMBUSH

  The army’s herd was massive. There were cows, pigs, and of course chickens. Gameknight smiled remembering some YouTuber that always called them spy-chickens. Herder had been gathering them as they traveled across this land, drawing more and more creatures with his calming touch. Surrounding the herd were his wolves. Each patrolled the perimeter of the herd, nipping at the heels of any animal that tried to go astray.

  Herder walked amongst the animals with arms held out wide, trying to touch each one. The gentle brushing of his fingers seemed to calm those that were nervous or scared. After walking amongst the animals, he moved to the wolves, scratching each behind the ears and giving them a piece of meat to satisfy their hunger and renew the bond of friendship. Gameknight could see red hearts appear above each wolf as it was given the tasty morsel, the grin on Herder’s face getting bigger with each reward. This lanky boy was truly meant for this task.

  Just as Herder fed the last of the encircling wolves an alarm was sounded. Turning, Gameknight bolted for his horse, jumping into the saddle in a single fluid motion. Spinning his mount around, he faced Herder who was running toward him.

  “No, stay with the animals,” Gameknight said.

  “But . . . but I could help,” Herder stammered.

  “I need you here, protecting the herd. That’s more important . . . now stay here and do your job.”

  Herder looked down as if he’d some something wrong.

  “Herder,” Gameknight said in a loud voice so that others would hear. “I’m counting on you. We all need you to take care of the animals. No one can do it better.”

  Herder pulled his head up and looked back at Gameknight, a look of confidence and pride on his face.

  “Take care of them. I know you won’t fail.”

  Then the User-that-is-not-a-user turned and headed toward the alarm. Tapping his heels into the horse’s side, he urged his mount forward, but slowly; he wasn’t anxious to get to the battle too soon. The sound was coming from the side of their formation with only a few soldiers nearby. Most of their troop rode at the front and back of the army, but few on the side. Moving toward the sound, he quickly came upon Stitcher. She was running toward him, her bow in her hand. As he approached, she held up her free hand. Reaching down, Gameknight grabbed it and swung her into the saddle in front of him.

  “Let’s go,” she snapped. “We need to get to the battle and help.”

  “I’m not sure they really need our help . . . ahhh . . . Mason probably already has . . .”

  “Just quit your whining,” she snapped. “Get this horse moving, NOW!”

  Gameknight reeled from her ferocity and heeled the horse into action, sprinting forward.

  “You’re just like your sister, you know that?” Gameknight said, not sure if it was compliment.

  “Just shut up and drive this thing,” Stitcher replied, then turned her head and gave him a smile.

  As they sprinted, they saw warriors running in all directions, swords drawn, unsure where to go. Part of the cavalry was also moving, but in every direction all at once. The alarm sounded again, someone banging on a chest plate with the flat of a sword. This drew the soldiers in that general direction, but they were still unorganized.

  But then someone shouted out in a loud clear voice.

  “There’s the User-that-is-not-a-user.”

  “Follow Gameknight999,” shouted another.

  “The monsters will be sorry when he gets to them,” said a swordsman nearby, his fist clenched to his chest.

  A cheer rang out as the warriors merged together behind Gameknight, their courage buoyed by just his presence. Stitcher turned her head and smiled at her friend, then spun back around, her hair flinging in a wide crimson arc that brushed across Gameknight’s face.

  “Hey . . . you did that on purpose,” he complained with a smile.

  “What me?” she replied.

  Stitcher turned again to give him another warm smile, then spun her head around even quicker, splashing his face with more curls. And then Gameknight felt chills run down his spine as he began to hear the sounds of battle on the other side of a gentle rise. A familiar trepidation filled him as he imagined the terrible things that were happening to people out there. What kind of monsters would they be facing? Would it be blazes, or spiders, or zombies . . . ? His imagination formed every terrible image it could muster, quickly eroding his courage and making him want to flee. But he could not flee; he had Stitcher sitting right in front of him. She was his friend and he couldn’t let her down. So against every instinct he had to run away and hide, he urged his horse forward.

  As they reached the crest of the hill he saw the battle, and his blood turned cold. Spider-jockeys. There must have been at least fifty of them. The dark furry spiders were scurrying about, a bone white skeleton riding on their backs. Wicked black curved claws slashed out from the spiders, scraping against armor and gouging into flesh. The skeletons on their backs fired arrow after arrow at the small group of NPCs that were already surrounded. Gameknight could see Crafter and Mason at the center of the circle, both firing their own bows at the elusive monsters.

  And then Stitcher’s bow started to hum as Gameknight started to charge toward the fray. Without thinking, he drew his enchanted diamond sword and urged his horse into a sprint.

  Speed . . . they needed speed. If he kept moving fast enough, maybe none of the spider jockeys would attack him.

  Zip . . . an arrow sped past him, threading the space between his chest and Stitcher.

  “Stitcher . . . to the left,” Gameknight shouted.

  He pointed at the skeleton that had fired the shot. But without realizing it, the warriors behind him took his gesture as a command and all charged at the skeleton. They knocked the bony creature from his mount, then fell upon skeleton and spider, slaying both quickly.

  The NPCs then formed a wedge, with the cavalry on the outside, swordsmen and archers in the middle, as Mason had trained them. They smashed into the encircling monsters. The mounted warriors had their swords drawn and sliced into the bony monsters while the archers fired at the spiders, taking the mounts out from underneath them. Seeing an opening in the enemy lines, Gameknight charged forward, leaping his horse over a riderless spider, Stitcher sinking three arrows into its bulbous abdomen as they flew through the air. The dark creature disappeared in a flash, leaving behind tangles of spider web and glowing balls of XP.

  Driving his mount forward, he moved through the surviving NPCs, maneuvering to Mason and Crafter.

  “Are you two OK?” he asked, his voice shaking.

  “Yes, but we need to—” Mason said but was interrupted when an arrow clanked off his armor. />
  Stitcher answered the arrow with three quick shots. Her arm was a fluid blur as she drew arrow from inventory, notched it, then loosed it at her target; she never missed. She was certainly Hunter’s sister.

  “We need to get some cover,” Mason shouted over the sounds of battle. “The skeletons are tearing us to shreds.”

  Clank, another arrow bounced off his back.

  Thrum . . . thrum . . . thrum . . . Stitcher silenced another attacker.

  The chaos of the battle had Gameknight terrified.

  What should we do . . . what should we do? he thought. I’m so scared, I just want to dig a hole and hide.

  “Gameknight, what should we do?” Crafter asked, almost pleaded.

  I want to dig a hole and hide, dig a hole and hide . . . that’s it!

  “Dig holes,” Gameknight said, imagining some kind of World War II movie with John Wayne and his men digging fox holes from which to fight. “Dig down one block and fight from there. Crouch between firing.”

  He then spun his horse around before they answered.

  “Archers to the center,” Gameknight yelled. “Swordsmen, dig a one block deep moat around our position, then wait for the spiders to get close and hack at their legs. Cavalry, follow me . . . FOR MINECRAFT!”

  Speed . . . they needed speed, just like back in the Nether.

  Leading the horsemen, Gameknight punched a hole through the enemy lines, then led the cavalry around the spider jockeys. Once they were outside of the battle lines, he looked back. He could see their men encircled by the spider jockeys, Crafter and Mason at the eye of the storm, but then he saw the NPC start to drop down as they dug their foxholes. Just then a roar came from the top of the hill; more of their NPC army had arrived . . . the rear guard. Now they completely outnumbered the attackers, but they did not flee. The skeletons kept on firing their deadly missiles as the spiders continued slashing at exposed flesh.

  It was complete chaos . . . terrifying and real.

  Clank . . . an arrow bounced off his diamond armor right near his neck.

  That was close, he thought.

  Thrum . . . thrum . . . thrum.

  Panic and fear started to fill his mind.

  I can’t do this, I can’t lead the battle . . . I’m just a kid.

  Another arrow zipped by his head. It reminded him of the day in the cafeteria when a milk carton had narrowly missed his head. These spiders were like those bullies in the cafeteria. They were all out to get him.

  I have to get out of here.

  Picking a random direction, Gameknight started his horse galloping; unfortunately, in his panic, he didn’t notice he was heading near the edge of the encircling monsters.

  “Follow the User-that-is-not-a-user,” Stitcher yelled as she held her bow up high.

  Gameknight ignored the cheer that bubbled up behind him. He just wanted to run . . . get away . . . hide. He rode past the spider ring and started to head out onto the open plain that stretched out before them, but Stitcher grabbed one of the reins and pulled on it, steering the horse so that it circled the spiders.

  “Cavalry, surround the spiders,” Stitcher yelled. “Follow the User-that-is-not-a-user!” She then lowered her voice and spoke to Gameknight. “Ride around them in a circle . . . it will be OK.”

  Gameknight, numb with fear, did as instructed. A storm of uncertainty and panic raged within his mind. He felt like he was watching the battle from within a tornado, but then he tried to push back on the storm within his mind, push back on the bullies down there attacking his friends.

  Maybe it is possible . . .

  “Draw your sword and strike at the spiders,” Gameknight yelled over his shoulder as he drew his diamond sword, his insides still shivering with fear.

  Reaching out, he slashed at spiders as they passed. Just then, one of the massive creatures leapt up and swung its dark curved claws at Stitcher. Leaning forward, he shielded her with his body, feeling the wicked claws gouge his armor.

  Nobody’s gonna hurt her, he thought to himself.

  “Don’t worry li’l sis’, I won’t let them hurt you,” Gameknight said, his voice now filled with anger. Nobody’s gonna hurt my li’l sis’.

  Driving his mount faster, he slashed at the spiders, his mind filled with an overwhelming rage. Crashing into the gigantic spiders, Gameknight’s sword was a blur of iridescent blue as his enchanted diamond blade became a spinning whirlwind of death. The ferocity of his attacks startled the monsters, making them hesitate for an instant.

  “Look, they’re afraid of the User-that-is-not-a-user,” the warriors yelled.

  This drove the NPCs even harder. The cavalry rode into the spider jockeys as the swordsmen leapt out of their moat and ran straight into the monsters. The archers picked off the skeletons as the cavalry and swordsmen attacked the spiders. In an instant the battle shifted. The spider jockeys changed from the hunters to the hunted. They were attacked from all sides at once. The warriors ignored their fears and charged forward, smashing into the massive creatures, the presence of the User-that-is-not-a-user giving them strength and courage. And in minutes, the battle was over, the ground covered with spools of spider web and skeleton bones.

  The warriors cheered, men and women slapping each other on the back, but Gameknight did not cheer. He noticed the piles of armor and tools here and there, remnants of NPC inventories; belongings left behind by the dead.

  Sighing, the User-that-is-not-a-user rode back up to Mason and Crafter. Before they could congratulate him or each other, Gameknight raise his hand high in the air, fingers stretched out wide. Stitcher looked back at him, then glanced about at all the items on the ground. She too raised her hand up high, her tiny fingers held out wide. Gameknight and Stitcher then clenched their hands into fists, squeezing tight until their fingers hurt; the salute for the dead.

  The other warriors saw this and stopped their cheering. Arms started to sprout up out of the cheering crowd, bringing the jubilation to a halt. Soon everyone had their hands raised up high, fists pointing up into the air.

  “Let us not cheer too loudly, for there are many who cannot cheer with us,” Gameknight said. “Let us instead remember those that fell today keeping their friends and neighbors safe . . . keeping Minecraft safe.”

  And then Gameknight lowered his head as he brought his clenched fist down, the rest of the army doing the same.

  Dismounting from his horse, Gameknight walked up to Mason and Crafter.

  “You two OK?” he asked.

  They both nodded.

  “You think this was Malacoda’s army?” Gameknight asked.

  “No,” Mason answered. “He’s just harassing us. These spider-jockeys were likely sent out to look for us and told not to return until we’d been destroyed.”

  “But how could they do that? Malacoda only sent fifty of them out after us. They couldn’t destroy our whole army,” Gameknight said.

  “That’s true, but it tells us a couple of things,” Mason said as he walked up to a collection of skeleton bones and spider silk. “First, he doesn’t know our numbers or he would have sent more. He probably thinks only the User-that-is-not-a-user went through the portal. His mistake was to assume that the NPCs would not go against their programming and follow you. He underestimated us . . . and you.”

  “And what’s the second little tidbit of secret knowledge you’ve drawn from this?” Gameknight asked in a sarcastic voice.

  “Something important that we must remember if we are to be victorious,” Mason said, his voice sounding as if he were uttering some kind of universal truth. The soldiers around them all became deadly quiet, listening for what was next. “These spider-jockeys had no supplies with them so that they could return to their own kind. This was a one-way trip for them.” He paused to let this sink in, then continued. “He commanded them to seek out the User-that-is-not-a-user and continue to hunt him until their deaths claimed them. He commanded them to fight until they could no longer draw breath. That is important to k
now.”

  “Why is that so important to know?” Gameknight challenged.

  “Know your enemy and know yourself and you can fight a hundred battles without disaster,” Mason said.

  The sea of NPCs, the soldiers, and fathers, and mothers, and children all nodded their heads as they pondered this statement . . . all but Gameknight999.

  I’ve heard that before! Gameknight thought. Why does he keep saying things that I recognize . . . something from school? Yes, it was from his history teacher, Mr. Planck. But how could he . . . ?

  Just then one of their scouts yelled something as he came riding back, his mount sprinting across the rolling hills. Gameknight couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, but excitement started to ripple through the troops as the rider approached. Slowing to a canter, the rider came near, then stopped and dismounted. Walking up to Gameknight and Mason, he looked at them both, unsure who to address first.

  “Well?” Gameknight snapped. “What is it?”

  “Take a minute to catch your breath,” Mason asked, “then tell us what you saw.”

  The NPC leaned over, putting his hands on his blocky thighs as he tried to slow his breath. “I saw a village, over that way,” the villager pointed in the direction where the last spider-jockey had fled. “We were chasing a spider-jockey that was trying to escape and finally caught him. Roofer got him with a long distance shot from his bow. It was a beautiful shot the way the arrow curved through the air and . . .”

  “The village,” Gameknight said, agitated, “tell us about the village.”

  “Oh yeah,” he continued. “When we got to the hilltop where the monster had died to collect his inventory and XP we saw it in the distance on the shore of an ocean . . . off to the north. It’s what we’ve been looking for . . . a village.”

  “Where are the rest of your men?” Mason asked. “Are they alright?”

  “I sent them to the village to keep watch on it but not to enter. I wanted to make sure there are no monsters about. They’ll come back if they see anything dangerous and take out any small mobs.”

  Mason stepped up and patted the man on the shoulder, his bright green eyes beaming. The characteristic huge smile that they’d come to expect was painted firmly on Mason’s boxy face.