The Wither King

by Mark Cheverton

  Watcher glanced over the old man’s shoulder. “What are those dots between the Cave and us?”

  Mapper shrugged. “Who knows. It’s probably just the landscape.” He tucked the map away. “We need to go that way.” He pointed with a crooked finger to the northwest.

  “Okay, let’s get moving.” Watcher reached into his inventory and pulled out the Flail of Regrets, just to be safe.

  They moved in silence through the dead landscape, their boots kicking up tiny clouds of soot around their ankles as their feet crushed the grass to dust. The airborne powder was gritty and coated the back of Watcher’s mouth as he breathed. He coughed, as many others did, trying to clear their throats, but it did little good. Reaching into his inventory, Watcher pulled out a flask of water and took a gulp. The liquid washed away the grime, only for it to be replaced with his very next breath. Frustrated, he put the bottle back into his inventory and continued to walk, trying to ignore the foul taste in his mouth.

  They walked in silence through the gray landscape as the sun slowly crept higher into the sky. By noon, they’d come to the end of the ashen grasslands and entered a new biome. It was a desert, with the occasional rolling dune interspersed with long stretches of hard-packed sand and sandstone. Watcher almost felt grateful to be leaving the dead grasslands until he stepped into the new landscape and felt the full might of the desert sun.

  The blasting heat made many of them stagger as sweat instantly poured down their foreheads. Occasional errant beads of moisture managed to seep their way past their thick unibrows and flow into their eyes, stinging terribly. More than one NPC tried to wipe the painful sweat from their eyes with their sleeves, but with their garments soaked with perspiration, it did little good.

  “Watcher, did you notice the ground?” Blaster asked.

  Watcher glanced down as he walked. The sand was a pale, off-white color, with different shades of white, beige and pale yellow making up the cube. “It looks normal enough to me.”

  “Tap it with the heel of your boot.”

  Watcher stopped his march and tapped the sand with his diamond boot, expecting his heel to dig into the sand, but instead, the cube rang out, as if it were a block of iron.

  “What?” He knelt and ran his hand across the hot surface. “It’s glass.”

  Blaster nodded. “Whatever happened here, it melted the top layer of sand into glass.”

  The other NPCs kicked the ground and knocked on the sand with gloved fists, but no grains came loose; everything was fused solid.

  “Strange that so much damage happened on this side of the Creeper’s Teeth,” Mapper said. “I don’t remember seeing any harm like this on the southern side.”

  “Maybe there were two purposes for the Creeper’s Teeth,” Planter said. “Maybe they not only served as a barrier to keep people away from the Cave of Slumber, but also as a way of containing the damage from the Great War.”

  “That’s a great theory,” Mapper said, nodding.

  Planter smiled.

  “Thanks,” she replied. “I was just thinking that—”

  “Er-Lan smells something,” the zombie interrupted, sounding alarmed. “It is not right.”

  “What is it?” Watcher moved to the zombie’s side. He glanced at Planter and gave her a grin, but she looked away.

  “Er-Lan has a strange memory of this aroma from long ago.” The zombie sounded troubled.

  “You mean from when you lived in your zombie town?” Planter asked.

  He shook his head. “No, the memory is from long, long ago, somehow …”

  Just then, a moan floated over the next dune, followed by the clicking of a spider and the rattling of bones. Watcher crouched as he drew the Flail of Regrets, then approached the dune. Laying uncomfortably on the hot, glassy surface, he crawled to the top of the mound and peered over the top.

  Below, something akin to a fountain spewed sparkling particles into the air. Beneath the shimmering spray, a collection of monsters bathed in the spray, a look of contentment on each face. But it wasn’t just a bunch of zombies, spiders, and skeletons; instead, this group of monsters was a mish-mash of different body parts: the head of a zombie on a spider, a shadowy enderman head atop a skeleton body, a zombie with skeleton arms … It was as if the monsters had been disassembled and then put back together in the most random way.

  The horrific creatures glanced at Watcher and his friends but didn’t take even the smallest step toward them. They seemed to be blissfully content within the twinkling shower, either unwilling or unable to move.

  Watcher slowly stood, still expecting the jumbled creatures to attack, but they remained motionless. The other villagers moved to the top of the dune and stood at Watcher’s side, all with weapons drawn, but again, the monsters remained within their glittering shower.

  “I guess they aren’t gonna attack,” Blaster said. “Let’s just walk around them.”

  They headed down the dune, but as soon as they’d walked three steps, the shower of sparks suddenly stopped. The monsters glanced around at each other, uncertain, then turned and focused their disjointed and mismatched eyes on the intruders.

  “The HP fountain stopped because of them,” a zombie head growled from atop a skeleton body. “It will not turn back on until we destroy the intruders.”

  The other monsters growled and snarled as they slowly stepped away from the now-silent shower.

  “We don’t want any violence,” Watcher said. “We’re just passing through. After we leave the area, I’m sure your HP fountain will turn on again.”

  The mob took another step forward, their eyes filled with a hunger for violence.

  “I think they don’t believe you so much,” Blaster said.

  “Yeah … I get that impression.” Watcher stepped forward and raised the Flail of Regrets over his head, waiting for the monsters to fall upon them, the bitter taste of battle on his lips, again.

  Watcher charged forward, the Flail glowing bright purple as he swung it. The spiked ball smashed into the front line of monsters, making them flash red with damage. A fire arrow zipped over his shoulder and struck a zombie, then another flaming shaft followed, taking the last of the creature’s HP. It disappeared with a look of confusion on its face. Glancing behind, he found Planter standing there with another arrow already notched.

  Beside Watcher, Cutter tore into the monsters with his diamond sword, cleaving into one creature after the next, while Blaster dashed between the monsters, striking out at the creatures with his curved blades. The terrifying monsters tried to stop him, but Blaster was just too fast.

  The rest of the warriors formed a battle line, refusing to yield as the horde crashed upon them like a tidal wave of claws and fangs. Villagers shouted out in pain and were pulled out of the line only to be replaced by others. Mapper and Fencer stayed at the rear, helping the injured by offering food and healing potions.

  “Everyone … move forward!” Watcher shouted. “Advance!”

  Slowly, the line of NPCs moved down the dune, pushing the monsters back. When they reached the bottom of the dune, Watcher pulled out his bow.

  “Everyone … retreat back up the hill!”

  The villagers obeyed, turning and running back up the hill. The monsters, not expecting this, just stood there for a moment.

  “Now … use your bows!” Watcher fired three quick shots at a skeleton. The monster disappeared before it could return fire.

  The villagers pulled out their bows and fired down upon the nightmarish creatures as they trudged up the hill in pursuit again. Their pointed shafts chiseled away at the monsters’ HP, causing more to fall and disappear. The archers were wreaking terrible damage on the attackers, yet the monsters never slowed, as if the risk of destruction was insignificant compared to their need to get their fountain turned on again. They continued to advance under the hail of arrows until only one creature remained. It was a creature with a skeleton body, dark enderman arms coming off each shoulder, and a spider’s head sittin
g atop its bony shoulders.

  Watcher held up a hand, stopping the attack, then stepped forward.

  “You need not continue to fight.” He lowered his bow and advanced. “We have won the battle, and will now be on our way.”

  The monster stared at Watcher with its eight blazing red eyes. It unclenched its dark fists, then glanced over its shoulder at the silent HP fountain.

  Watcher moved closer. “We’ll be on our way. Just step aside, please.”

  The creature brought all eight spider eyes to bear on Watcher, then clenched its enderman fists and sprang forward.

  A flaming arrow streaked past Watcher’s ear and struck the monster in the chest. Another arrow flew past, the magical flames singeing his hair, and struck the monster in the shoulder, making it flash red one last time, then disappeared, a look of relief on the monster’s terrifying face.

  “Nice shooting, Planter,” Blaster said as he put away his bow.

  “Yeah … that was awesome,” Fencer added in awe.

  Planter glared at the girl, then her face softened, and she nodded.

  Watcher moved to her side. “Thanks! You have incredible aim. Those arrows just barely missed me. I’m glad you hit what you aim at.”

  Planter smiled. “Maybe I missed.”

  Watcher stood silent, unsure how best to react. But then Planter laughed aloud. Blaster patted her on the back and laughed too, pointing at Watcher’s confused face.

  “You should see the look on your face,” Blaster said. He reached out and punched Watcher in the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get moving.”

  Suddenly, a sound like tiny gems being dropped on the ground filled the air as the HP fountain began working again. Little shimmering sparks shot up out of a hole in a pale block. They flew high into the air, making graceful arcs until they fell back onto the hard ground. Er-Lan moved closer to the fountain and extended an arm with a single outstretched finger. One of the glistening sparks landed on his finger, then soaked into his skin. A smile spread across his face as the HP regenerated his health.

  Mapper moved to his side and glanced at the satisfied expression on his scarred face, then stuck a finger out as well. A single shard of HP landed on his finger, and, just like with Er-Lan, Mapper smiled as it soaked into his body.

  “You all need to come try this,” Mapper said to the rest of the group.

  The old man and the zombie slowly moved farther into the HP shower with arms outstretched. Cutter moved to the edge of the shimmering spray and held out a hand. As with the others, a serene smile grew across his square face as the sparks of HP sank into his skin. He too stepped into the fountain, allowing the spray to envelop him.

  The other villagers came forward and walked into the spray too, each enraptured by the effects of the HP fountain.

  “I think we should get moving,” Watcher said, still outside of the fountain’s range. “Mapper, Blaster … let’s get moving.”

  The two villagers didn’t move and made no attempt to answer. Their eyes were glassed over, mouths hanging agape as they just absorbed the HP in what appeared to be sheer ecstasy.

  “Come on … Planter, Fencer … we need to get moving,” Watcher said, starting to grow concerned.

  Neither of the girls moved. They just stood there, either unable or unwilling to respond.

  “It’s like a drug,” Watcher whispered to himself.

  They are in grave danger, an ancient voice said in the back of his mind.

  Watcher glanced down at the Flail. What do I do? he thought.

  Cover the fountain, the enchanted weapon said.

  Cover it … how? But the Flail remained silent.

  “How can I cover it? If I step into the fountain, it’ll probably paralyze me, just like all the others.”

  Watcher searched his inventory for something that might help or maybe trigger an idea, and his fingers brushed against the Elytra wings his sister had given him before they left their village. This gave the young wizard an idea.

  Pulling out the wings, he stared down at the shimmering item. He could still hear her words in his mind from the day she gave the fragile wings to him: “Use them when walking just won’t do.”

  “That’s exactly the situation now, sis,” Watcher said to no one.

  He removed his diamond chest plate and strapped the wings to his back, then ran back to the top of the sand dune and planned his attack. Putting away the Flail, Watcher pulled out a block of dirt.

  “I’ll probably get only one shot at this.”

  Holding the cube firmly in his hands, he ran across the dune, then jumped up into the air. Leaning forward, he made the wings snap open. As soon as they caught the wind, he started to rise, the breeze rushing past his ears. He banked to the left, then lined up on the gap between Blaster and Cutter. Leaning forward, he traded altitude for speed, though he didn’t have much of the former. The wind’s speed increased, sounding like a mini-hurricane as it whooshed past his ears.

  Gritting his teeth, he entered the HP fountain. Suddenly, the sound of the wind died away, and all he could hear was the tinkling of HP shards dancing across the ground. His skin tingled as the sparkling crystals of health instantly rejuvenated him; it was spectacular.

  I could just stand under this fountain forever, Watcher thought. In fact, I think I’m gonna—

  Drop the block now, the Flail said in his mind. PLACE IT ON THE FOUNTAIN!

  The enchanted weapon’s voice was that of an enraged giant. It shocked Watcher back into his mind again.

  Waiting for just the right instant, he placed the block of dirt onto the fountain’s mouth as he flew over. Then, out of control, he smashed into the ground in a wash of sparkling particles, flashing red and taking damage, but the sparks of HP still in the air fell upon him, quickly repairing the damage.

  Watcher smiled and stood as the bright splashes of light danced upon his body for a moment more, but then the shower ceased; the block of dirt sat right on top of the fountain, blocking its flow. As his mind’s clarity returned, he shook his head, trying to clear the numbness from his brain.

  “The fountain … we need to get away from the fountain.”

  Watcher reached out to the nearest villager; it was Planter. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. Her eyes blinked, and then the blank expression on her beautiful face faded away.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “The HP fountain—it captured everyone,” Watcher said. “We need to get everyone away from it before it starts up again.” He glanced down at the block of dirt. Tiny cracks were already forming across its brown face. “Shake ’em to wake them up, fast!”

  He moved to another NPC and shook them violently. Planter saw what he was doing and copied the action. In seconds, four of them were awake, then eight, then all of them. The group rushed away from the fountain just as the block of dirt shattered and the shimmering sparks shot up into the air again.

  “What happened?” Mapper’s voice sounded groggy and tired.

  “The HP fountain captured all of you. I covered it with a block of dirt, then Planter and I woke you up.” Watcher removed the Elytra and put them back into his inventory, then put his diamond chest plate back on.

  “I don’t think we would have ever left that fountain,” Fencer said, shaking her head.

  “That’s why the monsters fought so hard,” Blaster said. “They didn’t care if they died or not; they just wanted the fountain back on.”

  “Why would this thing be here?” Cutter asked.

  “Er-Lan thinks it is another of the wizards’ defenses,” the zombie said. “Attackers either are defeated by the prisoners of the HP fountains, or become ensnared by its power.”

  Watcher nodded. “We need to be more careful and keep our distance next time. Now let’s get moving. We have a Cave of Slumber to find and a certain wither to destroy.”

  Blaster smiled and patted him on the back, then took off running, the rest of the company following. None of them noticed the beady red e
yes loping along, watching them from a distance, each pair filled with a hunger for violence.

  They continued northward, consulting the torn map occasionally to make sure they were on course. The entrance to the Cave of Slumber was getting closer and closer; soon they would be there, which made Watcher nervous.

  What kind of trap will Krael have set for us when we’ve reached our goal? Watcher thought. Shivers of fear ran up and down his spine. He shuddered ever so slightly, then glanced around to see if anyone saw.

  There was no doubt it would eventually come to a showdown between him and Krael. The Broken Eight and their direwolves were a problem, but they’d already proven they could be destroyed, whereas the king of the withers … that was another matter. Somehow, Watcher had to figure out how to destroy Krael if he was going to protect his friends.

  The hardened, glassy desert gave way after a time to a lightly forested grassy plain. Rolling hills of green spread out before them, with a random scattering of birch and oak trees, each standing tall and proud. After being in the gray, dead forest, and then the melted desert, this biome seemed like perfection. Some of the NPCs trimmed the leaves on the oak trees, looking for apples, but they found only a few.

  As they ran, Watcher noticed a change in the surroundings. The colors of the trees and grass began to fade, although not like the dead forest. Instead, the landscape became grayer and grayer until everything seemed petrified.

  “Look at this.” Blaster tapped on the leaves of a tree with one of his knives. It sounded as if he were tapping on a block of iron. “It’s all stone.”

  “Even the grass is petrified,” Cutter said. The stocky warrior kicked at a clump of tall grass. His iron boot bounced off the blades, not even leaving a dent, but he did it again and again until the grass shattered into a million little granite shards.

  “What could cause something like this to happen?” Mapper asked.

  “This is likely from the Great War again.” Planter’s voice sounded angry. “I don’t like what this magic has done to the land. All this mindless destruction from a bunch of power-hungry wizards and warlocks makes me sick. Maybe it’s a good thing all the warlocks and wizards from the Great War are gone.” She glanced at Watcher. “No offense.”