Confronting the Dragon

by Mark Cheverton

  Standing, he sprinted for his horse. In a single, fluid motion, Gameknight jumped up onto his mount and headed back for the rectangular pool. A mechanical howl of rage echoed throughout the arena as the King of the Golems screamed. Following with all his speed, the iron giant chased after Gameknight, a look of overwhelming hatred painted on the metallic face.

  When he reached the pool, Gameknight drove his horse right into the center, but instead of jumping to the other side, he stayed in the center, constantly pushing the horse up against the current. He was just able to hold his position as the golem approached. Reaching into his inventory, Gameknight pulled out the Iron Rose and held it high into the air. The petals glowed bright, casting an intense circle of light around the User-that-is-not-a-user, making him almost appear to glow as if lit from within. He could hear the trapped golems all scream in anger, but their chorus of rage was nothing compared to the Golem King. He bellowed a loud mechanical cry that made the very walls of the arena shake.

  “You want this,” Gameknight yelled at the guardian. “Then come and get it.”

  The King of the Golems howled again. This time, it was so loud that many of the NPCs dropped their weapons and fell to the ground, shaking in fear.

  “Return what you have stolen,” the mechanical giant bellowed, his voice filled with the sounds of metallic gears.

  “Yeah? COME AND GET IT!” Gameknight yelled back, moving a step closer to the edge of the pool.

  This time, the golem leapt into the pool, his long arms swinging upward violently. Wheeling his horse at the last instant, Gameknight moved just out of the way, the long metal fist landing a glancing blow against his arm, almost making him drop the Rose. Pain shot down his shoulder and arm, but he did not let go of the prize. Urging his horse forward against the current, he headed for the opposite side. Leaping with all his might, Gameknight’s horse jumped out of the watery trap and landed on the dry iron ground.

  Another metallic howl came from the King of the Golems as the flowing water pushed him into the deep end of the pool, trapped.

  I did it, Gameknight thought, and even managed to not get killed. Yay, me!

  And then the mechanical howling stopped as all of the golems stopped their thrashing and turned to face the User-that-is-not-a-user, their king at the front.

  “We will take back what is ours,” the King of the Golems said, his voice sounding like distant thunder, “and nothing will stop us. We will appear when you least expect us and then the tides of battle will shift. We will take what is ours; whether you die as a result of it is up to you.”

  Gameknight shook slightly, as if the golem king’s words were some kind of premonition, but then he was startled by the sound of cheers directly behind him. Spinning his horse, he found the warriors had surged forward to congratulate the User-that-is-not-a-user. Dismounting, Gameknight was greeted with pats on the back and shoulder as the soldiers all wanted to touch the one that had taken the Iron Rose. Holding it up high, he let the bright light from the silvery petals shine across the arena, forcing many to shield their eyes.

  “Come on, we need to get back to the others and find the second key,” Crafter said in a loud voice.

  “Yes, the others,” Gameknight agreed.

  Jumping up onto his horse he started to ride back to the bridge, the clop of the horses’ hooves all ringing on the iron blocks of the arena. But as they moved out of the arena and back onto the gravel pathway, a rhythmic sound echoed across the land. It was a ringing sound, like someone banging on a huge bell with a metal hammer, the gonging sound resonating pure through the air. Turning to look toward the noise, he saw Herder digging away at the iron blocks that surrounded the water trap. Spinning his mount around, Gameknight rode to the lanky youth.

  “What are you doing?” the User-that-is-not-a-user yelled over the gonging sound.

  “They are trapped . . . trapped. We cannot . . . cannot leave them trapped.”

  “What?” Gameknight asked as he dismounted.

  Moving to the young boy’s side, careful to avoid the swinging pickaxe, Gameknight put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, then reached over and grabbed the handle of the pick.

  The banging sound stopped.

  “Herder, what are you doing?”

  The young boy lowered the pickaxe and turned to face his idol. Behind him, the thrashings of the iron golems could be heard, their iron fists struggling against the watery current and smashing against the edges of the trap. With each blow, the ground shook as the mighty giants tried to gain purchase on the edge of their liquid prison. Only the Golem King stood stationary, a cold hatred burning in his eyes for the one that had imprisoned his kind; Gameknight999.

  “They are trapped,” Herder said, “they can’t get . . . can’t get out.”

  “That’s the whole idea.”

  “What is wrong?” a voice asked behind them.

  Gameknight turned and found Crafter directly behind them, Stitcher at his side. Mason then walked up, a look of impatience on his square face.

  “We must be going,” the big NPC said in a deep voice that seemed to boom across the arena.

  The iron golems in the water trap heard this booming voice and stopped their struggling. Their cold eyes all turned toward Mason and looked at the big NPC, the look of hatred that had been there an instant ago seemingly evaporated. Even the King of the Golems seemed at peace as he looked toward Mason, but then the hateful look returned as he turned his glare back to Gameknight999.

  “Cannot leave them here . . . trapped,” Herder said again, his voice now strained with emotion. “Like the spleefing . . . like the spleefing. This is not right, they must be . . . be freed.”

  Raising the iron pickaxe again, Herder continued his digging, slowly breaking iron blocks near the trap.

  “You know what it’s like to be trapped, don’t you Herder?” Crafter said with a soft, reassuring voice. “But we must be going. We have to get to the last key.”

  The lanky youth ignored the question and kept on digging.

  Pulling out her own pickaxe, Stitcher stepped forward and added her strength to the effort, slowly digging a channel that would allow escape for the metal giants. Sighing, Gameknight took out his own pickaxe and move forward to help. As soon as he stepped forward, the iron golems became agitated, their arms swinging about dangerously.

  “They don’t seem to like me very much,” Gameknight said as he stepped back, putting his pick back into his inventory.

  Patting the User-that-is-not-a-user on the shoulder, Mason stepped forward, a shining iron pickaxe in his hand. As he approached, the golems calmed and stopped swinging their massive fists.

  “You best go back to the bridge, User-that-is-not-a-user,” Mason said, glancing at Gameknight over his shoulder. “You still hold their Iron Rose. As soon as they are released, they will attack you. It would be best to be out of arm’s reach when that happens.”

  “You think?” he replied. “Stitcher, come with me.”

  The young girl smiled, then put away her pickaxe and ran toward him, leaping gracefully into the air and landing on his mount, her red hair flying through the air like a sheet of flame.

  Jumping up onto his horse, Gameknight sat behind her and rode to the gravel path that led to the bridge. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Mason release the last block with his pick, and step back quickly as the iron monsters slowly climbed out of the water trap. Instead of moving to the recessions in the walls of the arena and going back asleep, they all slowly walked straight toward the User-that-is-not-a-user and their Iron Rose.

  Turning his mount, he rode for the bridge, the sound of the others quickly catching up. As Gameknight rode up the ornate stone bridge, he glanced over his shoulder. The iron golems slowly trudged out of the arena, the King of the Golems, with his crown of vines glowing bright in the rosy sunlight, glaring straight at him. The look of venomous hatred made Gameknight cringe.

  CHAPTER 18

  ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH

&nb
sp; They rode through the portal with Gameknight at the head of the column, the Iron Rose pulsating from within his inventory as if somehow alive. He could feel it pulling on him, drawing him to the north, likely toward the second key.

  Gameknight shuddered. He was sure that the second key would likely be just as dangerous as the first, if not more.

  Stitcher craned her head, trying to look across the curving bridge.

  “Can you see the army?” she asked.

  “I think we’re still too high, but we’ll see them soon enough.”

  Urging his mount into a gallop, he headed down the curving path, the Iron Rose guiding him. Looking over his shoulder, Gameknight could see the rest of their squad coming through the portal, Crafter emerging from the purple mist with Herder’s skinny frame looming behind him on his mount.

  As he turned back, Gameknight felt a strange chill settle across his skin. It was as if someone had sprinkled small shards of ice across his skin, the sharp chilly points digging ever so subtly into his flesh.

  Something’s wrong, he thought.

  Stitcher could feel him tense up and turned her head to look up at him.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Gameknight answered, “but something is not right.”

  Kicking his horse into a sprint, he sped down the curving arch as his head swiveled from left to right, looking for threats.

  The chill slithered its way down his spine. The feeling was familiar. He’d felt it in that dream of his basement, and in the swirling mist of the Land of Dreams countless times.

  “He’s here . . . I can feel it.”

  “Who’s here?” Stitcher asked.

  “He’s here . . . he’s here.”

  And as they neared the bottom of the bridge, he could see what he already knew was waiting for them. A huge wave of monsters was crashing against their defenses. Gameknight could tell that this was the smallest fraction of Malacoda’s army. The majority of attackers were the monsters of the Overworld, with a few Nether-creatures amidst the horde. This was not an attack, it was a test . . . a very deadly test.

  Ranks of giant spiders clashed with the defenders on an outer wall composed of cobblestone. Flashes from exploding creepers punctuated the scene as the stone wall was pierced in multiple locations, allowing the flood of monsters to flow forth.

  A series of walls had been built in Gameknight’s absence. The outermost had now been breached as monsters flowed through the gaps, falling on the NPCs too slow or unaware to run for their lives. Fortunately, the majority of the defenders had retreated when the wall was shattered . . . just as they had planned.

  Now a second wall stood before the monsters, this one made of dirt and sand. Archers stood atop this earthen barrier, raining arrows down upon the approaching army, but their pointed barbs did little to slow their approach.

  At the rear of the monster horde, Gameknight could see a huge group of endermen, their black skin standing out against the bright sand. At the back of this group was a tall shadowy creature that was the color of dried blood; a dark, dark red just a few shades above black, his menacing eyes glowing bright crimson. It was Erebus, his nemesis . . . his nightmare.

  “Is that him?” Stitcher asked.

  Gameknight nodded as a shiver ran down his spine.

  “Maybe it’s time we showed him that he should be fearing us,” she said as she pulled her bow from her inventory and notched an arrow.

  “No, put your bow away,” Gameknight said.

  Stitcher turned and looked at him, confused.

  “Put it away,” he said as they reached the end of the bridge.

  She put away her bow as she looked up at him, her unibrow was creased with confusion. Gameknight reached into his inventory and pulled out his enchanted bow, the iridescent light from the sparkling weapon lighting up both their faces.

  “Your sister gave this to me, but I think you could put it to better use.”

  He handed her the iridescent bow as waves of purple magic ran up and down its length. She looked down at the bow, then fitted an arrow into its string. Pulling the arrow back, she loosed it into the air. The flaming arrow streaked up into the blue sky, soaring off the bridge and landing in the river below. Turning back, she looked up at Gameknight and gave him a smile that lit up his very soul.

  “She’ll be glad to know that you have it,” Gameknight said.

  “You be sure to tell her when we rescue her,” Stitcher replied. “We are going to rescue her . . . right?”

  “Assuming we survive today . . . yes, we will go get your sister.”

  She gave him another huge smile then turned and scowled at the approaching army.

  As the monster army approached the dirt wall a cloud of purple particles formed at their head. Suddenly, a wall of endermen appeared before the dirt barrier. Reaching out, the shadowy creatures grasped key blocks of dirt and sand, then teleported away, leaving behind a hole in the barricade. Returning, they continued to disassemble the barrier, teleporting back and forth. The defenders held their fire as the endermen slowly disassembled their battlement, not wanting to enrage them, allowing them to join the fighting. So they chose the only option open to them . . . retreat.

  Sprinting back to the last wall, the defenders quickly positioned themselves as planned. The last wall was made of cobblestone on the left and right sides, but was composed of only sand in the middle. Tall towers dotted the last wall, their peaks bristling with archers. Swordsmen stood behind the walls with swords drawn as the cavalry stood ready for the last charge. Out in front of this sandy wall, the normal desert sand was replaced with blocks of dirt. From his position, Gameknight could see saplings planted here and there throughout the field of dirt, likely a little surprise from the light-crafters.

  Having finally reached the bottom of the bridge, Gameknight moved to a small mound of sand to watch the battle, Mason and Crafter at his side. They could see the monsters approaching the sandy mounds, with charged creepers at the front of the pack. The sparkling blue field about the green mottled beasts would cause the explosion to do twice the normal damage. Their sandy barrier would easily fall.

  “Ready,” Gameknight shouted.

  All eyes shifted from the wall to the User-that-is-not-a-user.

  “Let slip the dogs of war,” he muttered to himself, then sat tall in the saddle.

  “NOW!”

  NPCs flipped levers that activated redstone circuits, triggering the pistons that sat under the tall mounds of sand. And in an instant, the sandy wall fell away into a hole in the ground revealing a line of TNT cannons. The long rectangular cobblestone structures, with the flowing water going down the center, suddenly came to life. Redstone torches were set to blocks of TNT and quickly the clear skies were alive with thunder.

  At the same instant, Grassbrin and Treebrin asserted their light-crafting powers, causing huge oaks to sprout forth, obscuring the vision of the attacking horde, while long blades of grass slowly slithered across the battlefield, tangling feet and slowing the charge.

  And then the cannons roared their welcome. Blocks of TNT exploded, flinging a blinking cube into the air. The ignited block of TNT fell amidst the monster horde that was trapped in the long grass and exploded, shaking the ground. A huge gash was torn into the ground as the explosion took with it dozens of monsters.

  “FIRE . . . FIRE!” Gameknight yelled.

  More cannons were lit and the air was suddenly filled with blinking red and black cubes. As they flew into the air, the cavalry readied for a charge.

  “Once more unto the breach,” Mason yelled. “CHARGE!”

  The horsemen and horsewomen charged forward to take out the closest of the monsters. Swords rang out as they bounced off armored skeletons and clashed with zombie-pigmen blades. The fighting was terrible. Gameknight could see people that he knew disappear in a cloud of items as their HP was extinguished, only to be replaced by another warrior. There was no retreat for the NPCs, so they fought for their lives . . . an
d their family’s lives . . . and for Minecraft.

  They were turning the tide . . . the monsters were starting to pull back. But then a stray arrow fired from some defender hit one of the endermen. The dark monster started to shake as its eyes burned bright white. Then the other endermen started to shake as well as they all became enraged.

  And in an instant, the battle turned again as the endermen joined the fray. The shadowy creatures teleported from place to place, attacking NPCs relentlessly, creating chaos wherever they appeared.

  To make matters worse, the sound of thunder from the TNT cannons started to change. Instead of the booming hollow sound, it started to give off a metallic grinding sound, like metal surfaces scraping against each other. Turning his head, Gameknight’s heart sank.

  Iron golems.

  They’d come through the portal and were now moving toward the NPCs. But surprisingly, the metal giants didn’t seem to notice any of the defenders; they headed straight for Gameknight999.

  The King of the Golems howled out a metallic scream of rage that caused everyone to freeze mid-battle.

  “I can’t do this,” Gameknight muttered. “There’s no way to win.”

  “Don’t worry,” Stitcher said from in front of him, her bow singing as she fired on the monsters from his horse. “We can figure this out, just go and . . .”

  He didn’t hear her, all he could hear was his own fears screaming at him from within his soul . . . you’re just a kid . . . run . . . hide.

  And so that is what he did . . . run.

  Digging his heels into his mount, Gameknight charged straight toward the attacking horde of monsters, streaking past zombies, creepers and spiders. As he sprinted, he saw Erebus staring at him in surprise; he just rode past as fast as he could, looking straight ahead.

  Stitcher cheered as she looked back behind them. The iron golems were following their prize, the Iron Rose, and fell on the attacking monsters. The mighty creatures flung their arms up, throwing monsters high up into the air. When they landed on the ground, the monsters perished in a flurry of red flashes, leaving behind zombie flesh, spider thread, and gunpowder. The golems fell on the monsters in their way with a fury, the ancient feud between golems and monsters reignited and burning bright.