The Wither King

by Mark Cheverton

  “We can’t do this if we’re all worried about everyone else back here in the village. I need you here so you can set up defenses in case we trigger some kind of monster retribution. It happened with the skeletons and the spiders in the past; why wouldn’t it happen this time as well?”

  Winger sighed. “Fine, but only if you agree to a couple of things.”

  “What?”

  “First, I want you to take my best Elytra.” She pulled a set of wings from her inventory. They sparkled with enchantments, making the fragile things glow like Watcher’s arms. “They have a mending enchantment, so if you don’t hurt them too badly, they’ll be able to repair themselves. Use them when walking just won’t do.”

  “Great.” Watcher took the wings, then held out his hands as if expecting to get more. “What else?”

  In response, Winger pushed her brother aside and stood before Planter. “Planter, I want you to take my bow. It has the Flame and Infinity enchantments on it. You’ll never run out of arrows, and having fire arrows always seems to be handy.”

  “Thanks, I’ll take good care of it.” Planter took the bow from the girl’s hands.

  Winger glanced down at the bow and gave it a wistful look, as if she didn’t expect ever to see it again. “No, it’ll take good care of you.” She gave Planter a forced smile, then stepped back.

  “Okay,” Cutter boomed. “Let’s get ready to go.”

  “Yeah … let’s gather our equipment and get ready,” Watcher said, trying to sound as confident as Cutter, but it was difficult, especially with the images in his mind of the Broken Eight storming through that village. They had been like an unstoppable force of nature. Would their band of warriors be strong enough to weather that storm? They were likely to find out.

  Krael floated through the air, his dark, protruding spine just barely skimming the ground. The Broken Eight ran next to him, easily keeping pace with the wither king, their direwolves loping along beside them with hungry eyes and snapping jaws. Behind each zombie, a trail of charred footsteps marked the ground where the broken spells wrapped around the ancient warriors had damaged the very fabric of Minecraft.

  With the village destroyed behind them, the wither king knew he now had a chance to get to know his new allies better. He looked at the one with the dragon-shaped helmet.

  “You’re the one in command of the Broken Eight, correct?”

  “This zombie commands, yes.”

  “And you said your name is Ya-Sik?”

  The zombie nodded, and the wither king’s left skull chuckled. “Zombies and their names … they’re so strange.”

  Ya-Sik said nothing.

  “What are the other names?” Right asked, her voice soft and soothing as she stared down at the monsters.

  “Wi-Sik, Vu-Sik, Ur-Sik, Tu-Sik, Ra-Sik, Pe-Sik and Ni-Sik.” Each one of the zombie warriors stood tall and proud when Ya-Sik spoke their names.

  “All of your names end with Sik,” Krael said. “What’s that about?”

  “A zombie’s last name is the family name. The first name shows the rank.” Ya-Sik lifted his chin in pride. “The closer to the end of the alphabet, the higher the rank. Any can challenge for leadership and take Ya-Sik’s name, but all know better.”

  “Have any of the Eight tried to challenge you in the past?” Right asked.

  Ya-Sik laughed. “One tried a long time ago, but Ni-Sik was not strong enough. The scar across the face of that zombie is a reminder.”

  He glared at one of the zombies with a helmet resembling that of a wolf’s head, and the zombie removed it and stared back at his commander. A long scar ran down the left side of his face, clearly a memento from the challenge that had ended poorly for him.

  “Put your helmet back on, Ni-Sik.” The zombie commander ordered, scowling.

  Ni-Sik acquiesced and replaced his helmet, and Ya-Sik turned back to face Krael.

  “Where is it the king of the withers is leading the Broken Eight?” There was an almost challenging tone to Ya-Sik’s voice. “It was understood that revenge against the wizards is of paramount importance.”

  “The zombies are not very respectful.” Left glared at the zombie. “Don’t they know who we are?”

  “Left, be quiet for a change.” Right glared at the skull.

  “Both of you be quiet!” Center’s voice boomed across the landscape, silencing the skulls. The wither king gave each an angry glare, the Crown of Skulls glowing bright upon his head, then turned his attention to the zombie leader. “We are heading to the Cave of Slumber. There, we will release an army of withers trapped by the wizards at the end of the Great War. Once they are free, we will rain flaming skulls down upon the NPCs.”

  “But revenge against the wizards was promised.” Ya-Sik stopped running and held his gold sword in the air. The other zombies stopped with him. “Did the wither lie to the Broken Eight?”

  “Don’t be a fool, zombie.” Krael floated higher into the air, out of reach of their puny swords. One of the wolves growled at him, but the king of the withers paid it no heed. “The last remaining wizard will undoubtedly follow us to the Cave. He already knows of our plans, and is probably heading there now. We will have ample opportunity to destroy the boy-wizard and his friends.”

  “How does the wither know this?” Ya-Sik asked doubtfully.

  “It’s true.” Right’s voice was, as usual, calm and soothing. It gave her words a sense of importance. “The wizard saw us after we released the Broken Eight. He was using some kind of enchanted artifact. In fact, he’s probably watching us right now.”

  “The longer we stand here and talk, the stronger the boy-wizard becomes,” Center said. Krael’s three skulls all stared down at the zombie leader. “You’ll never find this wizard without me.” The wither started floating backward, continuing to the east. “Now, are you coming with me, or will I get to destroy the boy-wizard on my own?”

  “We will follow, but tell the Eight where this Cave of Slumber can be found.” Ya-Sik lowered his sword and nodded to the other zombies. The monsters began running again, keeping up with the wither, seemingly unfazed by the effort.

  “Our destination, right now, is the Hall of Planes.” Krael waited to see if the zombies knew the name; the blank stares on their faces suggested they didn’t. He curved around a tall oak tree, the green leaves brushing his shoulder, then continued.

  “The Hall of Planes is a construction made by both the wizards and warlocks before the war began. It is a place where one can travel from one plane of existence to another, moving throughout the Pyramid of Servers that makes up the Minecraft universe.”

  “Pyramid of Servers?” Ya-Sik was confused.

  “I don’t know exactly what it means. All I know is, that’s what it’s called.” The wither ducked under some low branches, moving closer to the ground. Left turned to watch the zombies and direwolves while they were near the ground. “In some ancient books written by the wizards, I found references to the Hall of Planes. Apparently, the wizards put the Cave of Slumber on a different plane of existence from this one so that it would be difficult to find.”

  “But those ancient fools had no idea who would be looking for it,” Left said. “Being on a different plane won’t stop us.”

  Center smiled deviously. “We’ll go to that plane to find our army, then bring destruction to the Far Lands.”

  Ya-Sik nodded. He glanced at the other zombies as they ran; they too nodded.

  “Very well,” the zombie said. “Where is the entrance to this Hall of Planes?”

  Krael ducked under another branch, then rose from the ground, out of reach again from any weapons. “The ancient texts spoke of an entrance to the Hall of Planes hidden under a village well. That’s why we destroyed that village near your prison, so I could blast the well and look beneath it.”

  “And we also got to destroy some villagers, too.” Left grinned.

  The other skulls chuckled. The Broken Eight remained silent.

  “Where is the w
ither heading now?” Ya-Sik asked again.

  “There is another village to the east,” Center explained. “It’s near an ancient structure buried in the desert. That seems like a likely place for the entrance to the Hall of Planes.”

  “And when the wither finds this new village, will the NPCs be destroyed?” Ya-Sik glared up at the wither king as if challenging him.

  “Of course.” All three skulls smiled maliciously. “The villagers are our enemy, just as the wizard is. We will destroy them, just because they are there.” Krael thought about his wife, Kora, imprisoned in the Cave for all those years, and his rage grew. “The wizards will pay for what they have done. They thought they won the Great War, but all they did was put it on pause for a century or two. We will bring the war back and teach the NPCs what it means to suffer.”

  The zombies cheered and banged their shining swords against their curved shields, running even faster as the king of the withers accelerated his pace, anxious to find the next village and punish it.

  Watcher glanced at the darkening forest as he guided his horse past tall oaks and bright birches. The western sky grew angry as splashes of red and orange stretched across the horizon, shining warm hues upon the Far Lands. The rays of light turned the bright green forest to something moody and mysterious. Long shadows stretched from the base of the trees, reaching toward the eastern horizon as if trying to grasp at the yet-to-arrive moon. To the east, the sky was a jeweled tapestry as the stars emerged for their evening performance. With the colorful view overhead and the thick aroma of leaves and wood around them, the world seemed brimming with vitality and life.

  “Let’s slow down and let the horses rest.” Cutter raised a thick, muscular arm, then slowed his mount, the rest of the company doing the same. He glanced at Watcher. “Now, tell me again why you think we’ll find the wither king heading this way?”

  “Well … it’s not me, it’s Planter.” Watcher pointed at his girlfriend. “Tell him and don’t be shy.” The boy-wizard smiled at her. “I listened to you before, just like I’ll always listen and believe; that’s what a boyfriend does.”

  Cutter rolled his eyes. “What … spill it. We all need to know what’s going on.”

  “Well … it’s about that amulet I found in the Wizard’s Tower.” Planter glanced around as more NPCs brought their horses closer to hear.

  “What about it?” Blaster asked. “It looked like just some kind of necklace, that’s all.”

  “No, it’s enchanted,” Watcher said, jumping to her defense. “We all saw it glowing, you know, like my arms. It must be magical … like me.”

  Blaster glanced at Cutter and chuckled, the big warrior doing the same.

  “Watcher, you don’t need to defend me. I can take care of myself.” Planter reached out and grasped his hand in hers and squeezed it, then let go and faced the others. “The Amulet of Planes is whispering to me.”

  “Whispering to you?” Mapper moved his horse forward, so he was next to her. “That’s fantastic.”

  “I know.” She smiled and blushed. “Anyway, it’s telling me the location of the Hall of Planes. It says to follow the rising sun until we reach the desert, then look beneath the well that lies between the dual dunes.” An embarrassed expression came over her face. “I’m not sure what all that means, other than the rising sun part: we need to keep going to the east until we find a desert.”

  “That makes perfect sense. Can you show me the Amulet again?” Mapper was excited, like a child receiving gifts on Awakening day.

  Planter pulled it out from beneath her enchanted chainmail armor and held it out. The reflective square of metal at the end of the silvery chain was bathed in iridescent light, with sparkles dancing about its edges, as if it had been made of the stars twinkling overhead. The blood-red gemstone at the center seemed lit with fire from within, making it glow unnaturally bright for a ruby.

  “This artifact must have been made by one of the great wizards.” Er-Lan adjusted himself in the saddle, uncomfortable on the horse’s back. He patted the creature on the neck, then dismounted and let the animal rest. Others followed the monster’s lead.

  The leaves of a nearby fern swayed back and forth, drawing everyone’s attention away from Planter and to the ground as a group of rabbits, likely a mother and a couple of babies, moved through the forest. Er-Lan bent down and picked up one of the bunnies, stroking its soft fur with his green hand.

  “How did you do that?” a villager named Builder asked, amazed. “Rabbits are impossible to catch.”

  The NPC reached out to grab one of the bunnies, but instantly it bolted, scurrying away so fast it was hard to see where it had gone.

  The zombie shrugged. “Er-Lan has a way with animals.”

  “I guess you do.” Mapper nodded.

  Setting the rabbit on the ground, Er-Lan nudged it along, causing it to hop toward its companions. It rejoined the others, then the family of bunnies hopped away into the now-dark forest, the silvery rays of the moon that filtered through the trees offering little in the way of illumination.

  “There are all kinds of interesting things hidden away within you, Er-Lan,” Planter said, smiling at the monster.

  The zombie just shrugged again.

  “He really does have a way with animals.” Watcher was proud of his friend. He glanced at the NPC who tried to catch the rabbit. “You’re Builder, right?”

  The villager nodded, his long brown hair swaying across his face.

  “I saw you hugging some kids before we left the Wizard’s Tower; were they your children?” Watcher asked.

  “No, they’re my brother’s kids. But I love them as if they were my own.” Builder smiled. “I’d do anything for those kids; that’s why I’m here.”

  “I don’t understand,” Planter said.

  “My brother—his name’s Builder as well; we’re twins—anyway, he’s hurt from a fall off the roof of a house and couldn’t go with us.” Builder stood up a little taller when he started talking about his brother. “He’d be here with us if he could; so I went in his place. I figure if I can help destroy this wither king, then Builder’s boy and girl will be safer. It’s the least I could do. My niece and nephew are the light of my life. If anything plans on hurting them, they’ll have to go through me first.”

  “And us, too,” Watcher said.

  “So let’s go find us this wither king that’s threatening us and crush it.” Builder’s voice resonated with confidence and strength.

  “I like the way he thinks,” Cutter said, patting the villager on the back.

  Suddenly, sticks cracked in the darkening forest, and they all heard the sound of heavy feet moving through the leaves and twigs.

  “What kind of animal is that?” Planter asked the zombie, sounding worried.

  “Not a rabbit.” Er-Lan’s voice was barely a whisper. Slowly, the zombie’s claws extended from each finger as the monster prepared for battle.

  “Maybe the spiders know we’re here?” Cutter drew his sword as he handed his reins to Mapper.

  Watcher drew Needle and moved toward Planter’s horse, but she was already moving toward the noise, her enchanted bow held ready for battle.

  The rest of the warriors quietly drew their weapons and spread out, each watching the others’ backs. More sticks cracked. The NPCs all turned toward the sound, the warriors standing in groups of two or three. They moved quietly through the woods, the only light coming from their enchanted weapons and armor and Watcher’s arms.

  A horse whinnied nervously as the thump of something dismounting floated through the air. Leaves and sticks crunched as the thing approached. All the villagers froze in place and hid behind trees, their enchanted weapons, armor, and glowing arms held close to the thick trunks of the oak trees to hide their light.

  The mysterious thing moved closer, its crackling steps now only a handful of blocks from them.

  “Hold your fire until I give the word,” Watcher whispered. “Pass the word.”

  Th
e warriors relayed the message to their neighbors. Archers slackened their bows, but still held them ready to draw and fire.

  Watcher glanced at Cutter, nodded, then leaped out from behind his tree, yelling his battle cry as Cutter and the others did the same. A high-pitched scream pierced through the dark forest as he charged forward, the glow of his arms and weapon casting a lavender glow upon the scene. Planter and Blaster closed in from the other side, the glow from Planter’s bow adding more illumination to the scene.

  Standing in the center of the iridescent circle of light was a young girl with long blond hair, tied in a ponytail down her back: Fencer.

  “What are you doing here?!” Cutter was furious.

  “Well … umm … it’s just—”

  “We might have thought you were a monster and attacked you,” Planter scolded.

  “Maybe she is a monster … in disguise.” Blaster glanced at Watcher and laughed. “Let’s get back to the horses.”

  The warriors put away their weapons, many of them shaking their heads in disbelief, then turned and walked back to their horses.

  “Fencer, what were you thinking?” Watcher was furious.

  “Well … I was afraid for you after you left. You need someone to look after you while you’re chasing these monsters.” Fencer took a step toward Watcher. “Who’s gonna do that for you if I’m not here?”

  Planter coughed an obvious cough, then glared at the young girl. “You shouldn’t be here. What we’re doing is dangerous. It’s warrior’s work, and you don’t know the first thing about fighting.” She glanced at her boyfriend. “Watcher, you need to take care of this … now!”

  And then she turned and stormed off, heading back to the horses.

  Watcher just stood there, staring at Fencer, speechless.

  “Are you mad at me?” Fencer stepped closer and put a hand on Watcher’s arm. “I came here because no one understands you like I do. You’re a great wizard, and they don’t respect you as they should … as I do. I can help, really I can.”

  The faint sound of a zombie’s sorrowful moan floated through the forest. Fencer jumped and moved closer to Watcher, now holding onto his arm with two hands.