The Wither King

by Mark Cheverton

  He just shrugged. He understood how she felt.

  They moved in silence through the petrified forest, an uneasy tension spreading over the group. Everything was so bleak and lifeless; it left a depressing wound in Watcher’s soul that seemed to grow larger with every step. Glancing at the other villagers, it was evident by the expressions on their faces that they were feeling the same thing. But, thankfully, after they’d been walking for an hour, the color slowly faded back into the landscape until everything was green and alive again, as were their spirits.

  “I can’t imagine what kind of spell could have done that stone-making thing to the landscape,” Cutter said.

  “The more interesting question would be, why did they do it?” Mapper said.

  Watcher nodded his head but said nothing. He could still feel the anger in Planter over both his behavior with Fencer and the damage to the landscape. Somehow, he had to make it right.

  “Hi,” Watcher said as he moved to her side. “That was pretty terrible back there.”

  She just grunted a response.

  The forest around them was getting denser, with the birch and oaks getting closer together.

  “You know, I feel terrible about how I treated you.” He tried to look her in the eyes, but Planter just stared straight ahead. “I was wrong in listening to Fencer and not shutting her down. You were right to be upset, and I’m going to make it up to you.”

  “How … how are you going to make it up to me?” Planter eyes were filled with anger, but also emotional pain.

  “Well … I’m just gonna be truthful all the time,” Watcher said. He steered around a tree, with Planter going around the opposite side. “I can’t change what I did, but I can change what I’m gonna do, and that’s treat you with the respect you deserve.”

  “What about all this wizard stuff?” she asked.

  “Well … I know I’m not some great wizard, but I do have powers … I know it.”

  Watcher reached out and took her hand in his. She stared down at their intertwined fingers for a lingering moment, then pulled away.

  “I am a wizard; I just have to understand my powers. Then I can do some good with my abilities.”

  “I’m not a fan of magic, especially after what we just saw.” Planter pointed back at the petrified forest. “The land was lifeless … that’s a result of magic. I don’t see any good coming from a power that can do that.”

  Watcher started to object, then stopped and considered his words. “Maybe you’re right. But if I don’t understand my powers, then I can’t avoid doing something like that.”

  “Well, I guess understanding your powers, if you really have any, could be—”

  A growl floated through the air, coming from up ahead, causing everyone to stop in their tracks and glance around at the surrounding forest. The trees had grown close together, making it difficult to see things far away.

  Another growl came through the woods, but this time from behind. Watcher turned and faced the rear of their formation as Planter stared toward the front. Both pulled their enchanted weapons from their inventories, Watcher holding the Flail of Regrets while Planter gripped her enchanted bow firmly.

  “Can anyone see anything?” Watcher whispered.

  No one spoke.

  “It is the direwolves … Er-Lan can feel them,” the zombie moaned.

  Another growl crept out of the woods and floated past their ears. This one came from the left and was followed by a snarl to the right.

  “They’re all around us,” one of the soldiers said, voice full of fear.

  “Stay together,” Watcher said. “We can’t let them divide us.”

  Another growl filtered across the forest, flowing on the persistent east-to-west wind.

  “There’s too many of them,” the soldier said. “We have to run!”

  “Hold your position!” Cutter boomed.

  But the villager didn’t listen; he just ran off into the woods, fleeing the last growl he heard. “Everybody run, they’re all around us!”

  The crunch of the NPC’s feet on the leaf-covered ground was easy to hear as he sprinted, weaving around the close-packed trees. But then another crunching sound came to Watcher’s ears. It was softer, as if something was gliding lightly across the forest floor. Then more of the soft sounds added to the first as angry growls drifted across the forest, followed by a terrified shout.

  “There’s five of them, and they’re—”

  Suddenly, the villager screamed, then went silent. Even the crunching of leaves stopped; the forest grew completely silent … like a graveyard.

  But then, a victorious howl cut through the silence like a razor-sharp knife through flesh.

  “Everyone, move close together,” Watcher whispered. “The direwolves want us to run, so they can pick us off one at a time … but we aren’t gonna do that, are we?”

  No one answered, but Watcher knew they understood.

  The NPCs formed a tight circle with Mapper and Fencer in the middle, each holding potions of healing at the ready.

  The growls moved closer, then spread out in a circle around them. A red blush spread across the sky as the sun kissed the western horizon. Normally, it would have been a beautiful sight, even here, but with the terrifying direwolves slowly surrounding them, the crimson sky reminded Watcher too much of blood. His nerves felt electrified with fear as his pulse quickened. Breathing in short, nervous gasps, he glanced over his shoulder, searching for Planter. He found her sandwiched between Blaster and Cutter.

  Good; she’ll be safe there, I hope, he thought.

  Just then, wolves slowly emerged from the darkening forest, their beady red eyes glowing bright with hatred and a hunger for XP.

  “Fight together and watch each other’s backs.” Watcher’s voice cracked with fear, but he knew the other NPCs were feeling the same thing.

  Pulling a shield from his inventory, Watcher held it in his left hand, the Flail gripped firmly in his right.

  The wolves glared at him with such vile hatred, it was almost painful to look back. It reminded Watcher of the way the bullies used to stare at him when they were getting up the courage to torment him. He swore he’d never forget how those thugs in their village had made him feel, and these wolves were doing the same. Rage bubbled up from within his soul, pushing the fear aside.

  “I’m tired of being afraid of these flea-ridden dogs,” Watcher said from between gritted teeth. “It’s time we taught them a lesson about respect.”

  The other villagers cheered, some of them banging their swords against their chest plates.

  “Come on, you filthy wolves!” Watcher shouted. “Time for you to get schooled.”

  The largest of the wolves growled, its sharp teeth bared, then let out a piercing howl. At that moment, the direwolves attacked.

  The wolves charged at the villagers with jaws snapping and teeth gleaming. Some villagers tried to shoot at them with arrows, but the animals juked left and right, avoiding the pointed shafts. Watcher spun the Flail of Regrets over his head, hoping for advice from the mystical entity living within the weapon, but the ancient voice was silent.

  A wolf snapped at the villager next to him, the animal’s sharp teeth clamping down on the NPC’s sword arm. Watcher smashed the animal with his Flail, hitting it with a glancing blow and pushing it back. The direwolf growled and faced Watcher, then lunged. Rolling to the side, Watcher stood and slammed the spiked ball down, but the animal was expecting that and was already gone.

  Suddenly, pain surged up Watcher’s leg as a set of powerful jaws grabbed hold of his calf. The animal was too close to use the Flail, so he dropped it and pulled Needle from his inventory, then slashed at the monster, causing the wolf to flash red as it yelped in pain. The creature released its painful grip and backed away.

  Shouts of pain came from the other villagers around him as the wolves darted in and out of their formation, snapping at arms and legs with vicious accuracy. The NPCs tried to keep them back, but the wolve
s were too fast. Though there were only five of them, it seemed like a thousand in the heat of battle. The animals darted across the battlefield like furry white shafts of pain, their teeth slashing at villagers as they passed. But the largest of the direwolves seemed focused solely on Watcher.

  The huge beast leaped forward, trying to tear Watcher’s sword from his grip; he brought his shield up just in time to deflect the animal’s attack. The bands of metal across the shield groaned and cracks formed across the back as they repelled the animal’s bulk.

  More shouts of pain and fear came from his companions. The sound of healing potions shattering against the backs of his friends filled the air; Mapper and Fencer were trying to help where they could. But the painful yells from his friends were still growing stronger. The wolves were doing a lot of damage … he had to do something.

  Use the Gauntlets, a voice said in his head.

  The direwolf pack leader lunged at him again. He brought the shield up, letting the animal crash into it. The wooden rectangle shattered into a million pieces, the splinters stinging his face. Landing on his chest, the direwolf’s paws pressed into his stomach, its hot breath panting in his face. But then a flash of green streaked by, knocking the big animal to the ground. Watcher quickly stood, only to find Er-Lan wrestling with the creature. The wolf snapped at the zombie, but Er-Lan was too quick, narrowly avoiding its sharp teeth. Pushing the wolf away, Er-Lan ran to another villager’s aid, his claws, curiously, not extended … strange.

  Watcher slashed at the huge wolf with Needle, but somehow, the animal caught the blade in its teeth and tore it from his grasp. The monster tossed the blade aside, then snarled at Watcher, an expression of excitement on its lupine face.

  Use the Gauntlets of Life, the voice said again, though this time it sounded farther away.

  Watcher glanced at Needle on the ground and knew it was the source of the voice: another mind trapped within an enchanted weapon.

  The direwolf took another step closer, its hind legs tensed, ready to pounce on him. Glancing down at the gauntlets on his wrists, Watcher held up his hands and pointed them at the monster. Pouring all of his thoughts and his powers and his soul into the gauntlets, he imagined them spitting fire at the wolf. Suddenly, the Gauntlets of Life burst into life, giving off a bright flash that blinded the wolf for a moment. Before it could move, a shaft of purple lightning sprang from the gauntlets and struck the monster, knocking it to the ground.

  Watcher gritted his teeth, ready for the pain to come; he knew the more powerful ancient weapons used the wielder’s HP as a source of energy, and when the relics drank in that energy, it hurt. But this time, instead of being enveloped in agony like whenever he used the Fossil Bow of Destruction, he found the ground under his feet was growing colder instead.

  The direwolf stood again, baring its teeth and growling. Watcher fired another bolt of iridescent lightning, hitting the animal with pinpoint accuracy. The creature flashed red again, but refused to flee; it just came forward, a snarl on its enraged face. Firing another bolt of magical energy at the creature, Watcher advanced, the ground growing colder and harder under his feet.

  The purple lightning struck the direwolf hard, knocking it backward. The creature howled in pain and frustration, then leaped toward Watcher, its jaws open and its razor-sharp teeth aimed at his throat.

  Gathering all his strength, Watcher threw as much power as he could at the creature. A bolt of purple electricity streaked through the air and hit the wolf, making it flash red over and over until it just disappeared in midair, leaving glowing balls of XP falling to the ground.

  Watcher glanced around at his companions. The four remaining wolves were still attacking, with piles of items on the ground around them where NPCs had perished. He moved toward the wolf nearest Planter and attacked with the Gauntlets of Life. Purple lightning stabbed at the vicious creature, making it yelp in pain. The direwolf turned toward its attacker, but never got a chance to move; Cutter swung his diamond sword at the creature while Watcher sent another burst of power at the animal, destroying it. The ground grew cold as the Gauntlets of Life drew energy from the very fabric of Minecraft.

  Planter glanced at Watcher, a look of surprise on her face, and started to say something, but he didn’t hear. Running toward the next wolf, Watcher sent more bolts of magical power at the creature, striking the animal in the side and knocking it to the ground. As it struggled to its feet, the villagers fell on it, iron swords tearing into the animal’s HP. It flashed red over and over, then turned and fled. The remaining two wolves growled, but they also fled as Watcher chased after them, throwing balls of purple energy at them.

  “Watcher!” Planter’s voice sounded scared.

  Instantly, he stopped the pursuit and returned to his friends. When he reached the villagers, he found them circled around two piles of discarded weapons and tools floating up and down just off the ground. Watcher moved next to Blaster and stared at the items.

  “Who was it?” he asked.

  “Fletcher and Cobbler,” Blaster replied.

  Watcher slowly raised his hand into the air, fingers spread wide, as his friends did the same.

  “They died trying to keep the Far Lands safe from Krael and his monsters,” Mapper said.

  The other NPCs nodded in remembrance.

  No! They died because I couldn’t protect them, Watcher thought. I have these powers, but I don’t understand how to use them. Feelings of frustration mixed with grief filled his soul.

  Mapper retrieved the items and distributed the food and weapons amongst the survivors while Watcher walked to where the Flail of Regrets had fallen and picked it up. Putting it back into his inventory, he retrieved Needle, too. Staring down at the blade, Watcher could now sense a presence inside it. It was as if someone or something was living within the sword.

  “Watcher, you want to explain what happened over here?” Planter’s voice sounded angry.

  Looking up, Watcher spotted her and moved to her side.

  “You mean destroying the wolves?” Watcher said. “Well, I used the Gauntlets of—”

  “Not the wolves … look.” Planter’s voice had an accusatory tone. She pointed at the ground. “That’s where you were standing when you blasted the wolf that was attacking me. Now look at the ground.”

  Watcher glanced down and found a wide gray area that had once been healthy green grass … but now was petrified into stone. The tree that stood nearby was also a dreary gray, its once-vibrant green leaves now turned, like the grass, into stone.

  Watcher crouched and ran his hand across the cold, hard ground. It was all turned to stone, as if something sucked the very life from the soil, just like in the petrified forest.

  “There’s another circle of stone over here,” Blaster said.

  Watcher moved to Blaster and stared at the ground. “This was where I fought the first wolf. It pulled Needle from my hand, leaving me without any weapons.” He glanced at his companions, then turned his gaze to Planter. “To tell the truth, a voice told me to use the Gauntlets of Life.” He held his left hand up in the air, showing the Gauntlets. “I think the voice came from Needle.” The sword glowed in his hand.

  “Your sword talked to you?” Blaster asked skeptically.

  Watcher nodded. “Like I said, there is a presence of some kind living within the Flail of Regrets, and now I think there’s one in Needle as well.” He looked straight at Planter. “You felt it before; the way Needle seems to know what to do in battle. It’s almost as if it moves on its own.”

  Planter nodded.

  “I think there’s some kind of life force trapped within the blade.” Watcher put away the sword. “It’s probably true about the Gauntlets as well. Maybe that’s how the wizards made these powerful weapons—by trapping part of their magical powers within the items.”

  “That is a great theory, but I don’t really care about that right now.” Planter scowled at him. “Look what your use of those gauntlets did to the surface of Mi
necraft. They turned the grass and soil and trees into lifeless stone. Those enchanted weapons have no regard for living things. They’re dangerous, just like all magic.”

  “Well, I’m glad Watcher had those gauntlets,” Blaster said. “Those direwolves are pretty tough. I don’t know if we could have handled all five without Watcher’s purple lightning.”

  Planter scowled at him. “Maybe you’re right, but look what it did to the land. It’ll forever be lifeless, just like that petrified village and the dead forest of ash. Magic is reckless and should never be trusted. We’d be better off with all this magic gone from Minecraft.”

  “What are you saying?” Watcher asked. “You think I should be gone?”

  “Well … no, of course I don’t mean that,” Planter said, shaking her head.

  “That’s kinda what you said.” Watcher took a step toward her, but she backed away.

  He glanced down at his glowing arms and knew magic was now a part of his life. It wouldn’t be possible just to get rid of it; that would be like trying to get rid of an arm or leg. This was who he was. Would magic always be a barrier between them?

  Will I ever be close to Planter again? An overwhelming sadness enveloped Watcher, making him feel lost, adrift in an ocean of despair.

  “Well, I’m glad you had the new little trick,” Blaster said.

  “Me too,” Cutter added. “Those wolves are fast and tough … and now there are only three of them left.” The big warrior smiled. “Three, we can handle, I think.”

  “The Broken Eight still remain,” Er-Lan said.

  “As well as the wither king,” Mapper added.

  “I get it; there are still lots of monsters out there, trying to destroy us,” Blaster said. “But with Watcher’s new abilities, we have a real advantage. If it costs turning some grass and trees to stone, then who cares? We need to stop Krael from releasing his army of withers. If we fail, no amount of magic is gonna stop hundreds of withers.”