The Wither King

by Mark Cheverton

  A shout of pain pierced the forest, putting worry for his friends into Watcher’s soul. Standing up, he backed away from the zombies and glanced toward the sounds. The huge direwolves were tearing into the NPC warriors, their sharp teeth shredding iron armor as if it were made of paper.

  Putting the Flail back into his inventory, Watcher pulled out the Fossil Bow of Destruction, the enchanted weapon he’d taken from the skeleton warlord many months ago. Gritting his teeth and preparing for what was coming, he pulled back on the bowstring and aimed at the most vicious of the wolves. Instantly, an arrow appeared on the bowstring, and at the same time, pain surged through his body as the Bow used his HP to energize the powerful enchantments woven into the weapon.

  Somehow, the wolves sensed the magical weapon instantly. They stopped their attack and stared straight at Watcher, their beady eyes glowing red with vicious anger. Chills of fear shuddered down his spine as the three animals loped across the grass-covered ground, snarling and baring their teeth.

  Watcher released the arrow, his thoughts focused on his target. The arrow leaped off the bowstring and streaked through the air. The wolf saw the projectile and instantly curved to the left at the last instant, causing the arrow to miss, but the sparkling shaft arced around, tracking the target. The wolf, thinking it was safe, charged at Watcher, but before it could reach him, the arrow struck the animal in the side, instantly taking all of its HP. It yelped in pain, then disappeared, its snarling mouth still open as it tried to bite at Watcher. The other two wolves charged at their enemy. Watcher fell to one knee, his health low after using the bow.

  Suddenly, Builder was at his side, throwing a potion of healing on the boy. The liquid seeped into Watcher’s body, cooling the fiery agony that licked at his nerves. Standing, Watcher pulled the string back, getting ready to shoot, but he was too late; a direwolf jumped in the air and landed right on top of him, knocking him to the ground and sending the Bow of Destruction falling from his grip, out of reach.

  Reaching into his inventory, Watcher pulled out a wooden shield and held it over him just in time as the creature snapped at his head. Its powerful jaws crashed together above him, sounding like a blacksmith’s hammer banging against an anvil. Terrible odors came from the creature’s mouth as it tried to bite at Watcher’s face, the shield keeping the creature away, but just barely.

  Suddenly, a scream pierced through the sounds of battle around them; it sounded as if a villager was grievously wounded. And then, out of nowhere, a glittering arrow struck the side of the wolf on top of Watcher, taking the vicious creature’s HP to zero instantly. It disappeared with a look of surprise on its lupine face.

  Another scream sliced through the air. Watcher set aside the shield and turned toward the sound. Builder was on one knee, his body flashing red. In his hand was the Fossil Bow of Destruction. The NPC drew the string back and fired an arrow at the last of the direwolves. The sparkling projectile hit the creature in the shoulder, causing it to disappear, a howl of pain just escaping its mouth before it vanished.

  “Builder … no!” Watcher reached into his inventory and found a potion of healing. He threw it on the villager, but the liquid just bounced off him, the enchantment from the Bow likely canceling out the magic.

  Builder flashed again, then fell to both knees weakly. He stared at the Bow of Destruction as if it were a deadly viper. He shook his hand, trying to dislodge the weapon, but it would not come loose from his grip.

  Watcher ran to him and grabbed the bow. Pulling with all his strength, he tried to tear the enchanted weapon from the NPC’s grip, but to no success. It was as if the weapon were a part of the NPC’s body … for now.

  “Here, Builder, eat something.” Watcher handed him an apple.

  The NPC tried to bite into the fruit, but it was magically pushed from his grasp as the Fossil Bow of Destruction punished the non-wizard for using the weapon.

  “Someone … HELP!”

  Watcher glanced around the battlefield, where Cutter and a handful of NPCs still fought with the first two zombie warriors. Nearby, Planter and Blaster battled with the third, Planter’s golden axe crashing into the monster’s armor while Blaster’s curved knives slipped into gaps between the plates, making the creature flash red with damage, then disappear.

  As the zombie vanished, Planter glanced in Watcher’s direction, then came running, a golden apple in her hand. Kneeling at Builder’s side, Watcher held the doomed villager’s head in his lap, trying to comfort him as waves of agony crashed through the NPC.

  “Builder, you saved me, but you shouldn’t have used the Bow; it’s only for wizards like me!” Watcher held his hand as another burst of pain spread through the villager’s body.

  With his strength waning, Builder shook the Bow again, still trying to dislodge it from his grasp, but Watcher knew it was futile. The villager finally surrendered to his fate and stared up at Watcher, fear and understanding in his brown eyes. Builder squeezed Watcher’s hand feebly, then spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

  “Protect my niece and nephew. You can do this, Watcher. You can defeat the wither king.” Builder took a strained breath. “Just be true to your—”

  And then he disappeared, leaving his items and the Fossil Bow of Destruction on the ground. Planter reached his side and stared down at the discarded inventory, a tiny square tear tumbling down her cheek.

  “Oh no, Builder …” Planter moaned as she placed a hand on Watcher’s shoulder.

  Rage overwhelmed Watcher’s mind as he stood. He picked up the Bow and stuffed it into his inventory, then pulled out the Flail of Regrets. His arms burned with enchanted power as his anger made them glow brighter and brighter. The magical power poured into the Flail, causing it to blaze with energy like a spiked, purple sun.

  He rushed across the forest floor, swinging the Flail over his head, screaming his battle cry. He flung his weapon into the closest zombie warrior. The spiked ball crashed into the creature’s chest plate, causing a wide crack to split down the middle. The monster moved his hand in shock across the fissure in his golden armor and screamed in rage, then attacked the wizard. Watcher ducked as the zombie’s golden blade swung at his head, striking the trunk of a nearby tree. As the monster struggled to free his weapon from the wood, Watcher hit him again, knocking the enderman-shaped helmet from the creature’s head. The zombie swung again at Watcher, but he’d already moved, rolling across the ground to the side. Standing, he brought the Flail of Regrets down upon the zombie with all his strength. The creature flashed red again and again, then disappeared, a sad moan escaping the monster’s lips.

  Before the last zombie could react, Watcher rushed forward to attack, but in his haste he tripped over one of the gnarled roots snaking across the forest floor. He fell hard, knocking the wind out of his chest. The zombie took that opportunity to slash at one more villager, then turned and fled. The gold-coated monster zigzagged between the trees as arrows sought to taste his HP, but they fell harmlessly to the ground. Some of the NPCs gave chase.

  “Come back!” Watcher shouted to them as he stood. “We have more important things to do.”

  The villagers stopped their pursuit and returned to the others.

  Watcher glanced at the ground. Discarded items lay strewn across the ground from fallen comrades. Guilt surged through his soul as he stared down at the glowing balls of XP.

  The only thing marking these four NPCs’ existence are a few weapons, armor and glowing balls of XP, Watcher thought. I failed them all.

  No, the ancient voice said deep within Watcher’s mind; it was the Flail of Regret. They left traces of themselves with all of you, through memories and stories and how they touched your hearts. They are never truly gone if you remember them.

  Watcher frowned, trying to force the tears to evaporate and just go away.

  But Builder and the others suffered so much, Watcher thought.

  He could still hear Builder’s screams of pain and fear in his mind, echoing in his soul,
forever reminding him of his failure, and regret.

  Then remember them and honor their sacrifice, the Flail said, then grew silent.

  Watcher looked up and realized his jaw was sore; he’d been gritting his teeth while he thought about Builder and the others. He heard sobs; Fencer was weeping, her arms wrapped around Mapper. Others looked sad, too, but their anger toward the Broken Eight and the wither king was so great, it pushed back the tears and replaced them with rage.

  “The cost of this battle with just three of the Broken Eight was steep.” Glancing around at the piles of tools and weapons, Watcher felt a tear trying to escape from the corner of his eye, but he refused to set it free. The time for grief was later; right now, it was time for action. “We must not let the sacrifices given here be in vain.” He raised his hand into the air, fingers spread wide. “For Builder …”

  “For Fisher …”

  “For Carver …”

  “For Saddler …”

  The litany for the dead sounded hollow in this strange land, but Watcher knew their sacrifices had been important.

  Clenching his hand into a fist, Watcher tried to crush his sense of failure and regret at these losses, but he knew he’d done everything he could. Slowly, he lowered his hand, the others doing the same.

  “We still must find the Cave of Slumber.” Watcher pointed to the dark tower rising high over the forest. “Hopefully there will be some clues up ahead. Everyone, follow me.”

  After picking up all the items on the ground, they ran toward the dark structure looming above the forest, an uneasy silence spreading across the company. Watcher wove around the oaks and birches as they sprinted through the woods. The forest thinned as they grew nearer, then stopped completely, revealing a massive circle of quartz, the dark tower built at the center. Redstone blocks embedded in the pristine white surface outlined paths leading to the entrance of the tower.

  The villagers stood at the edge of the quartz, unsure if it was safe to enter. Watcher glanced at Mapper, hoping for some indication from the old man on whether they should proceed. He was about to ask something when Planter appeared at his side.

  “Do you hear it?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Do you hear it?” Planter gave him an annoyed look.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about—” he began, and then he heard it. A high-pitched sound just at the edges of his perception hummed in lyrical tones, the harmonious notes soothing to his nerves. Watcher smiled and nodded. “Yes, I can hear it.”

  “Come on.” Planter stepped onto the quartz circle, following the redstone-lined path.

  Watcher looked up at the great tower as he followed Planter, trying to figure out what kind of blocks had been used in its construction. The dark cubes looked more like shadows than anything else; no purple speckles were visible, as he would expect if the blocks were obsidian; no black and gray colors, which he’d expect if they were bedrock. Even if they’d used blocks of coal, the edges where the cubes met would be visible, but the surface of the cylindrical tower was completely featureless as it rose into the air, a mysterious anomaly.

  When they entered the tower, Watcher found the inside lit with a complex pattern of redstone lanterns. They spiraled up along the inside of the tower all the way to the top, which was at least forty blocks into the air. They cast a warm yellow glow on the interior; it was a pleasant change from the harsh rays of this world’s pale sun.

  “It’s coming from the center.” Planter led Watcher toward the center of the tower, then knelt and listened, putting her ear to the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Blaster asked.

  “Shhh.” She held a hand up into the air, silencing him.

  Blaster glanced at Watcher and shrugged. Watcher put a finger to his lips and glanced at the other villagers, getting them to all stay quiet.

  Planter moved from block to block, pressing her ear to the stone until she found the one she sought. Glancing up at Watcher, she smiled. “This one.” She pointed at a specific block.

  Watcher drew a pickaxe and swung it with all his might. After four hits, the quartz cube shattered, revealing a wooden chest. Dropping his pick, Watcher knelt at Planter’s side and slowly pried open the lid. The hinges squeaked loudly as it rose, causing rust to flake off the metal, creating a dusty cloud that made Watcher sneeze.

  Inside the chest were two identical items; they looked like gauntlets that would attach onto someone’s wrists, but each glowed with magical power. Planter reached for the items, but Watcher grabbed her hands.

  “These could be dangerous, like the Bow of Destruction.” He looked into her spectacular green eyes. “I don’t want you getting hurt because of their enchantments. You better let me handle them for now.”

  She rolled her eyes, then moved back.

  Watcher reached into the chest. When he touched the gauntlets, the magical relics jumped up and snapped around his wrist so suddenly it scared him. He leaped backward away from the chest, stumbled, then fell onto his back.

  “You okay, Watcher?” Cutter asked.

  The big NPC stood over him. He reached down and offered a hand to help the boy to his feet, but when he saw the magical gauntlets, he pulled back, uncertain about coming near the enchanted artifacts. Blaster moved to Cutter’s side and stared down at Watcher.

  “Whatcha doin’ down there?” Blaster said. He glanced at Cutter, then turned back to Watcher and extended a hand, not caring about the gauntlets.

  Reaching out, Watcher took the hand and let Blaster pull him to his feet.

  “What are those on your wrists?” Cutter asked nervously.

  “I don’t know. They kinda just grabbed hold of me, and now they’re there.” Watcher tried to pull one off, but it didn’t budge. “I don’t think they’re gonna let go, at least for now.”

  “That’s tomorrow’s problem,” Blaster said. “Today’s problem is finding the Cave of Slumber.”

  “I think I found it!” Mapper exclaimed. “Everyone come over here.”

  They moved to the old man. He was standing on the far side of the tower, where a large map covered the wall.

  “It wasn’t here before,” Mapper said. “But when you opened that chest, it just appeared here.” He pointed at a structure that looked like a compass. “That’s us here. And then way up here is the Cave of Slumber.”

  “How do you know that’s the Cave of Slumber?” Blaster asked from the back of the group.

  “Well, I’ve read a lot of books about the ancient wizards,” Mapper said. “I’ve looked at a lot of maps and studied the Great War for most of my life, so I should know. Plus, it says ‘Cave of Slumber’ in small writing.” He smiled at Blaster.

  “Ok then,” the boy replied.

  “What’s that between us and the cave?” Watcher pointed to a zigzag line that cut all the way across the map from left to right. The tops of the zigzags were chopped off, leaving their peaks flat.

  “Ahh … that’s called the Creeper’s Teeth.” Mapper smiled with excitement. “I’ve read about them. The ancient wizards constructed the Teeth to keep villagers and monsters from some great treasure that lies to the north.”

  “And now we know what that treasure is.” Planter pointed to the Cave of Slumber. “Obviously, the wizards wanted to keep everyone away from the army of withers imprisoned within the Cave.”

  “So we can just climb the Creeper’s Teeth?” Cutter asked.

  Mapper shook his head. “The books say the wizards covered the mountains with unimaginable monsters. Anyone trying to climb the Creeper’s Teeth would face the worst horrors in Minecraft. With so few of us, I don’t think we’d last very long.”

  “Then what are the alternatives?” Watcher moved closer to the map, surveying every inch. “What’s this at the bottom of the mountains?”

  Mapper moved up close. “The map has it labeled as the Labyrinth. I think it’s a passage or tunnel that goes under the mountain. But its label has me a little concerned; it’
s written with some kind of dark-red ink.”

  Blaster moved up to the map and stared at the writing. “That doesn’t look very inviting to me, especially written in red.” He glanced at Watcher. “I think we should take our chances with the mountains.”

  Mapper shook his head. “Many will die if we go that way.” His voice rang with certainty.

  “I think we need to try the Labyrinth.” Watcher glanced at Mapper. The old man nodded. “We’ll have to just take a chance on what might be inside. My magical powers will protect us in the Labyrinth, I’m sure of it. The unknown will be better than a host of monsters waiting for us on the steep slopes of the Creeper’s Teeth. We’ll leave that problem for Krael and the rest of the Broken Eight.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Blaster stared at Watcher, a look of uncertainty in his brown eyes.

  Watcher checked the map, then glanced up at the clouds overhead to get his bearings.

  “OK, let’s get moving,” he said.

  “But wait a minute.” Planter put a hand on his shoulder. “Aren’t you worried about those things on your wrists? You don’t even know what they do.”

  “True, but I know their name.” Watcher smiled, pleased with himself.

  “Oh yeah? Then what are they called?”

  “Well … they’re the Gauntlets of Life.” He held his arms in the air for all to see.

  “How can you possibly know that?” Planter asked with a doubtful scowl.

  “Because it says it right there.” Watcher pointed to the side of each gauntlet. “Anything called the Gauntlet of Life can’t be bad. Besides, if they are a problem, I’ll just take care of them. Remember, I’m—”

  “We know, you’ve told us a thousand times now,” Blaster said. “You’re a wizard.”

  Watcher smiled, pleased with himself again.

  “And probably the best wizard ever,” Fencer added with a grin.

  Watcher’s smile faded, but Blaster’s spread as Watcher’s discomfort with Fencer’s adulation grew.