The Wither King

by Mark Cheverton

  Quickly, Krael fired one more skull, which struck the lever and pushed it to the side until it clicked into place. Instantly, lines of redstone powder on the cold floor came to life, melting through the thin layer of snow and ice covering them. The glowing signal moved to each jail cell door, allowing the iron doors to swing outward. The shimmering layers of magic surrounding each cell flickered as the doors swung open.

  “Now … get out of the cells!” Krael shouted.

  The eight zombies each leaped out of their cells, followed by their direwolves. In a blink of an eye, the magical spells wrapped around each jail cell burst back into life and the iron doors slammed shut as the enchantments regained their vitality … but it was too late.

  The Broken Eight were free.

  “It is time for revenge,” Ya-Sik growled. The other zombies nodded, drawing their golden short swords and pulling their golden shields from their inventories. The shields were curved, letting them wrap around the wielders’ bodies, and their fronts were covered with razor-sharp barbs. The zombie warriors were a terrifying sight to behold, and Krael loved it.

  “Absolutely.” Krael’s three heads nodded. “And at the top of the list is a certain boy-wizard I know. He’s meddled in my plans one too many times, and now, at last, it’s time for his destruction.” He glanced at the zombies and smiled. “I can’t wait for that puny wizard to meet my new friends … the Broken Eight.”

  The zombies clanked their golden swords against their spiked shields while the huge direwolves howled with angry delight.

  The king of the withers laughed as he floated across the floor and out of the ancient structure, eight vicious zombie warriors following close behind.

  Watcher moved through the passage under the Wizard’s Tower, his nerves feeling like old bowstrings stretched to their limits. Shadows covered the walls of the corridor, his imagination putting terrifying beasts in the darkness, ready to attack. A sparkling circle of purple light surrounded him and his friends, coming partially from his enchanted sword, Needle, which he held at the ready. The magical power laced throughout the weapon cast a soft purple glow on the tunnel walls, but it was dwarfed by the light coming from the boy’s arms. Holding them out, Watcher was still surprised when he saw them glowing, the sparkling light pulsing from his fingertips to his shoulders as if the magical enchantments moving through his body were somehow alive.

  “You make a good torch,” a voice said next to him. A smile emerged from the shadows, then moved closer, resolving into his friend, Blaster, in his favorite midnight-black leather armor. “You think there might still be monsters down here? We’ve searched the Wizard’s Tower many times.”

  “I know, but we need to be sure.” Watcher put away his sword and pulled out a torch. “I’m a little nervous about any surprises after moving everyone from our village into this place.”

  “You know we couldn’t stay in the savannah,” a soft and lyrical voice said from behind them.

  Planter, his best friend—and new girlfriend—moved to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. It felt as if fireworks were going off in his heart. He smiled at her, forgetting about the fact they were hunting dangerous monsters.

  “After defeating the spider warlord’s army of monsters, we all knew it would be too dangerous to stay in the savannah; the monsters knew where we were.” Planter moved her hand from his shoulder to his hand and interlaced her fingers with his. “Moving everyone to the Wizard’s Tower was a great idea, Watcher.” Her voice was soft and soothing.

  Blaster coughed. “Umm … maybe we should focus on the job at hand?”

  “Oh … ahh … yeah, of course.” Watcher’s cheeks grew hot; he hoped none of them would notice in the shadowy passage. Pulling his hand from Planter’s, he put the torch in his left hand and drew Needle again.

  “Watcher, why do you think there are more unexplored tunnels or rooms in the Wizard’s Tower?” Blaster asked. “I’ve been through this structure a hundred times.”

  “I know, but since this happened,” Watcher held out his glowing arms, “hidden doorways have been opening when I come near. I guess it’s because of me.”

  “You mean because you’re now this all-powerful wizard?” Blaster’s question had a friendly, mocking tone.

  “Well … I am a wizard, after all.” Watcher glanced at his friend. “Your arms aren’t glowing, are they?”

  Blaster shook his head.

  “Then it must be my new wizarding abilities that are opening up these things.” Watcher stood a little taller, feeling empowered by the fact that he was a real, living wizard, the first since the long-ago Great War fought between the NPC wizards and monster warlocks.

  Planter groaned.

  Blaster sighed. “Not this again.”

  “I’m just saying, we’ve searched all these passages before and found nothing new. But now, we’re finding brand new corridors that weren’t here before.” Watcher patted the stone wall with an outstretched hand. “It’s like the walls are opening up just for me.”

  Blaster suddenly held up a hand. “You hear that?”

  “No … what?” Watcher stared at the boy, curious.

  “It was me rolling my eyes so much, I could hear them bouncing around in my sockets.” Blaster laughed and patted his friend on the back. “Now get over yourself, and let’s get this passage searched.”

  “I agree,” Planter added, her voice sounding a little exasperated.

  Watcher sighed. They don’t understand how hard it is to be a wizard. If they just—

  “Wait … I heard something.” Planter leaned forward, cupping her hand around her ear.

  Watcher sighed, expecting another joke. He was accustomed to being made fun of; it had been the favorite pastime of bullies when he was younger. “I don’t think we have time for—”

  “Shhh … a humming sound.” Planter held a hand up, silencing him. “Follow me.”

  They moved slowly through the passage, the glow from Watcher’s arms revealing the stone walls and floors around them, but doing little to shine any light on the rest of the tunnel. They went maybe twenty-five blocks until Planter stopped and pointed at the ground.

  “Right here, the humming is coming from right here.” She pointed at the block beneath her feet. “There’s something under these bricks.”

  Watcher glanced doubtfully at Blaster; they both had expressions of uncertainty on their faces.

  “Dig it up,” Planter said.

  It sounded like a command, and neither dared refuse. Blaster pulled out an iron pickaxe as Planter stepped aside. After three hits, the stone bricks shattered, revealing a dusty wooden chest.

  With a satisfied smile, Planter knelt and opened the chest. Inside the ancient box was just a single item: a necklace, glowing with magical power. She reached in and pulled it from the chest, then closed the lid. With her holding the amulet in the air, Watcher was able to get a good look at it.

  The necklace was made from the finest silver chain, almost too thin to see without moving very close. At the end of the necklace was a shiny square of metal that was perfectly reflective, almost mirrorlike in its appearance, like the surface of Watcher’s sword, Needle. At the center of the metallic square was a blood-red gem that glowed as if powered from within; it reminded Watcher of the eye of a spider. The chain and reflective square pulsed with magical power.

  “You better let me have that; it’s magic. I can handle it.” Watcher reached out for the amulet, but Planter pulled it back.

  At that moment, it flashed with power, the gemstone glowing a bright red, and Planter put her hands to her ears as if some loud noise had just blasted through the passage.

  “Did you two hear that?” she asked.

  Watcher and Blaster both shook their heads.

  “It said ‘Amulet of Planes,’ but it sounded as if someone yelled it from inside my mind.” She looked scared. “What’s that mean?”

  “I don’t know, but maybe you should just put it in your inventory for now.” Watc
her knelt and replaced the stone bricks back on top of the chest. “Maybe Mapper will know what it is. We’ll show it to him later.”

  Then the scuff of a boot across the stone floor echoed off the ancient walls, barely audible.

  “Shhh.” Watcher held a glowing hand up to stop his friends.

  “What? Did the wizard detect a disturbance in the Far Lands?” Blaster chuckled.

  “Be quiet … something’s following us.” Watcher put away the torch and reached into his inventory for his bow. His fingers brushed across the Fossil Bow of Destruction, the ancient relic he’d taken from the skeleton warlord many months ago. Watcher pulled the Bow out and grabbed the string.

  Every time he touched it, he was nervous. The ancient weapon was reported to only be usable by wizards; any non-magic person using this weapon would be killed by its powerful magical enchantments. He was always cautious when using the Bow.

  As soon as Watcher drew the string back, a sparkling arrow appeared, its sharp tip glinting with magical power. Pain surged through him as the ancient weapon dug into his health points (HP), using his body as a source of energy for the enchantments woven into the relic. Watcher gasped, always shocked at how much it hurt, but he remained motionless nonetheless; who knew what might emerge from the shadows?

  Blaster drew his two curved knives and disappeared into the darkness, moving noiselessly through the passage, trying to sneak behind their potential assailant.

  Planter pulled out her enchanted shield, a bright red rectangle with three black skulls emblazoned across the surface, its light adding to the shimmering glow around them. She held her enchanted golden axe in her right hand, ready for battle, her beautiful blond hair almost sparkling in the iridescent light.

  “I know you’re out there,” Watcher’s loud voice echoed off the cold stone walls. He placed a torch on the ground, then backed away, pulling Planter with him. “Step into the light, and I won’t open fire.”

  Pain exploded through his body again as the Fossil Bow of Destruction stabbed at his health, drawing more energy into the ancient weapon. Watcher grunted as the waves of agony crashed through him but stayed on his feet.

  A wizard wouldn’t fall, he thought, the pain growing steadily.

  “Umm,” a high-pitched voice said. “It’s only me.”

  A young girl stepped into the torchlight. She wore a tan smock with a black stripe running down the center. Her long blond hair, tied in a ponytail, hung over her shoulder, stretching down almost to her waist; it was Fencer.

  Watcher gave an exasperated groan and lowered the bow, grateful to put it back into his inventory, stopping the pain.

  “What are you doing here?” Planter was angry, her voice no longer soft and lyrical, but sharp as a knife.

  “Well … I saw Watcher going into the darker parts of the building, and I wanted to make sure he was okay.” Fencer glanced up at Watcher. The young girl’s face lit up when she made eye contact with him.

  Planter’s body tensed as her rage built. Watcher knew she was getting ready to yell at the girl, and he didn’t want that. Placing a hand on his girlfriend’s shoulder, he stayed her anger, then took a step toward Fencer.

  “I’ve told you before; you can’t just follow me around.” Watcher bent over and picked up the torch, then pulled out a loaf of bread and ate, allowing his HP to begin regenerating. As he neared, Fencer’s smile grew bigger.

  “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything.” Fencer took a step toward Watcher.

  “Like what?” Planter moved to Watcher’s side. “We’re here, searching for monsters or hidden traps. What did you think we needed? More weapons? More arrows? Did you bring any of those?”

  “Well …” Fencer just shrugged, then looked away from Planter and toward Watcher again. A smile instantly grew on her face.

  “Watcher, you’re the bravest, most important person in all of Minecraft.” She smiled a huge, joyous smile. “I’m gonna take care of you … forever.”

  Planter scowled at the young girl, her unibrow creased with annoyance.

  “It’s okay, Planter; she was just trying to help.” Watcher gave Planter a quick smile. “I’m sure she was worried about all of us, weren’t you, Fencer?”

  The young girl just shrugged. She glanced at Planter and saw the angry glare levied toward her, then cast her gaze to the ground.

  Planter moved her glare from Fencer to Watcher. “Watcher, sometimes, you’re such an idiot.”

  “What?” He wasn’t sure what she meant. “What did I do? I was just—”

  Watcher stopped in mid-sentence and groaned. A sensation, not quite pain, but something similar, washed over his body, and he fell to one knee as the sound of multiple explosions echoed in his mind, mixed with a harsh, maniacal laughing.

  “Watcher, what’s wrong?” Planter caught him as he started to fall.

  Another wave of discomfort smashed into his mind, filling him with a feeling that could only be described as spikey and evil. It drove the strength from his body, causing the magical purple glow woven through his arms to sputter and flicker.

  The last of his strength faded, and his legs buckled. Planter held him in her arms and slowly settled him to the ground. “Watcher … what’s wrong?” Planter pulled his diamond chest plate off his shoulders, making it easier for him to breathe.

  Blaster stepped out of the darkness and stood protectively near Watcher and Planter, his eyes searching the shadows for enemies. Fencer pushed past the boy and knelt at Watcher’s side, stroking his reddish-brown hair.

  “It’s okay, Watcher … it’s okay.” The young girl tried to hold Watcher’s hand, but Planter shoved aside her grasp.

  “Just leave him be,” Planter snapped. She glared at the girl, then looked down at her ill boyfriend. “Watcher … what’s happening?”

  “The Flail … I need the Flail.” Watcher’s voice was weak.

  He reached into his inventory and curled his fingers around the leather-wrapped handle of the magical weapon. When he pulled it out, the Flail of Regret filled the passage with a pulsing glow. Magical power flowed from the spiked ball down the links of iron chain and into the wooden handle, throbbing and beating as if it were alive. Some of the power leaked into Watcher, reviving the iridescent energy wrapped around the boy’s arms.

  Instantly, a deep voice whispered in the back of his mind, pushing back on the waves of evil washing up against his brain. Watcher had learned there was some kind of living … thing … trapped within the magical weapon, and he could communicate with it.

  The Broken Eight … the Broken Eight, the Flail said, its voice, for the first time, sounding terrified.

  “The Broken Eight?” Watcher murmured, struggling to understand.

  “What did you say?” Planter asked.

  Watcher groaned.

  Use the Eye … the Eye of Searching. The voice from the Flail sounded insistent.

  With his other hand, Watcher reached into his inventory and found two long leather straps attached to a gold-rimmed glass lens: the magical artifact, the Eye of Searching. He’d taken it from the spider warlord when they defeated her, and now it was part of his magical arsenal. Pulling it from his inventory, he extended it to Planter.

  “Blaster, get some healing potions ready.” Watcher glanced at Planter. “Put it on me.”

  “You’re too weak,” she complained.

  “Do it … please. It must be done.”

  With a sigh, Planter positioned the glass lens over his eye, then tied the leather straps together at the back of his square head.

  Instantly, pain stabbed into Watcher as the magical enchantment in the Eye of Searching looked for energy and found it within his HP. Almost at the same time, a glass bottle shattered against his chest, and cool liquid splashed across his body, quenching the flames of agony surging through him; it was the healing potion.

  Concentrate on your enemy. The voice from the Flail of Regret sounded insistent.

  Watcher had experimented
with this artifact before and knew what it did: it would show an image of anyone or anything he imagined, but in real time, as if he were spying on them from some hidden perch. Closing his eyes, Watcher concentrated on his enemy, Krael, the king of the withers. Instantly, an image of the terrifying monster appeared in his mind.

  The wither king floated down a snowy mountainside in the vision, wearing two Crowns of Skulls glowing with magical power. At first, it seemed to be a relatively insignificant scene, but then another monster stepped out from behind a frozen mound.

  It was a zombie clad in magical, golden armor. The creature held a short sword in one hand and a curved shield in the other, and wore a dragon-shaped helmet over his scarred face. With a snarl, the zombie motioned for others to follow, and seven more gold-clad zombies stepped out from behind the snow-covered hill, each adorned in the same magical armor, each wearing a different-shaped monster-helmet. An evil energy seemed to emanate from the monsters, their enchanted boots leaving charred footprints on the ground. Behind the zombies came a pack of huge wolves, each of the animals almost the size of a small cow.

  Direwolves. The voice from the Flail of Regrets was scared.

  “Who are they?” Watcher asked, shaking with fear, the evil sensation from the zombies stabbing at his soul.

  “What are you talking about?” Planter asked. She put a hand on Watcher’s forehead, checking him for a fever, but he brushed it aside and concentrated on the vision.

  Pain exploded again throughout his body, the price required by the Eye of Searching for the mystical view.

  The eight zombies followed the wither king down the slopes, heading for a village at the foot of the mountain. Watcher knew they were going to destroy the community, not because they had to, but because they wanted to.