by Billy Miner
“There he is!” I heard them shout.
I had to get out of there. It was already too late to sneak out, and now they were after me! I ran as fast as I could, jumped over bushes and walls, turned around corners, knocked over crates with market food that were left in front of the homes, and even climbed on a rooftop.
They almost lost track of me. My agility had nearly beaten them. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, I got out of sight, at least of the fat, slow ones that were after me. One of the guards, however, kept up and didn’t let me go.
Why did I have to be confronted with some athlete or sports champion?
I jumped again and rolled to break my fall. I ran up to a wall, grabbed onto the edge, and pulled myself over it. I looked back, but he was still there, chasing after me as if it were the last thing he did.
“Aha! That will be my escape route,” I thought as I saw a chimney on the left. I skipped to the chimney, climbed into it, and let myself drop.
Booof!
I landed on a cold, spiky log.
“Ouch!” I cried out.
As quickly as I could, I stood up and ran out the front door of the home I invaded. Nobody had seen me. I disappeared in an alley, never to be seen again by my pursuers.
At home, I took the block out. I went to my closet and grabbed some paper, ribbons, and a marker. I became creative. I decorated everything nicely. The note on the wrapped gift I made read,
To the Ender king. From Miners Village. We want you to have this. Consider it a token of our goodwill. We appreciate everything you do and hope to work together with you in the future.
I attached the note to the wrapped block, finished it up with some smooth ornaments, and left my home. It took an hour before I reached the street where the palace of Ender City was. I looked around but saw nobody. Was it time yet? I was five minutes early, so maybe I just had to be patient.
“Pssst,” I heard suddenly.
I turned around. It was Jeremy.
“Do you have the Emerald Ore?” he asked.
“I do.”
“Great! Hand it to me and I will lay it in the throne room. The king will be thrilled.”
I handed him the block and watched as he took a sneaky side door into the Ender Palace. My job was done. Now all we had to do was wait.
Entry 7: Peace
The next day, there was a big celebration in town. I slept in, since I was so tired from all the anxiety and excitement.
The parade woke me up. There were trumpets, tubas, drums, and event dancers. Everybody was happy. I looked out the window and noticed how many people from Ender City were intermingling with the residents of Miners Village. Most people were laughing and enjoying the festivity.
Most people…
When I saw Commissioner Randolph’s face, I hid behind the curtains. I wasn’t ready to confront him yet. I thought for a minute and got prepared. I put on my shoes and my jacket; then I opened the front door and moved between the many people in the crowd towards the town square.
This is where it would all take place.
This was the town’s big moment.
There was a stage set up. The mayor of Miners Village and the Ender king were shaking hands. Smiling at each other, they exchanged unheard words that signified hope. The Ender king took the cloth off a cushion one of his servants was holding. Underneath it was a gigantic Ender Pearl. It was pretty and shiny; it was worth a fortune. The mayor accepted it gladly and gratefully. Then he turned to the masses and beckoned us to be silent.
“With this, we have decided to form a union between the two towns,” he said. “Ender City and Miners Village will work together as partners and exchange economic benefits to help each other grow stronger and more prosperous. This will be the single most important contract in the history of our village. Long live the king!”
Everybody cheered. Peace was secured. The contract was officially signed and the two rulers stepped down to shake hands with the people in the crowd to make a friendly, politically correct impression. It was a happy moment.
But not everybody was happy.
I felt someone tapping on my shoulder.
“I know it was you,” Commissioner Randolph said when I turned around. “You stole that Emerald Ore. I don’t know how you did it, I don’t know how to prove it, but I just know it was you. That crystal sword on the pedestal was yours. I don’t know anyone else who has one like it.”
I lifted my mouth to the side and smirked, closing my eyes halfway and raising one eyebrow.
“Great job for figuring it out, genius,” I said. “But before you exert yourself to find some kind of evidence of my betrayal, I have to warn you that I have seen what’s on the cat disc. Do you have any clue what it may do to your career if I tell anyone what your soldiers did with that mine?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he said.
“Try me,” I answered.
“Even if you would, how do I know you even have that disc? You never reported to me. Maybe it got lost or stolen. I think you’re bluffing.”
“Am I?” I asked rhetorically.
He had nothing else to say. He was furious, but he didn’t want to take the risk. Of course I was bluffing anyway. The disc was already gone. But who cares? He didn’t know that.
THE END
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Minecraft Enderman
A Minecraft Enderman Diary
By Billy Miner
Copyright @2015
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the publisher, Billy Miner.
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Contents:
Introduction
Entry 1: The Dark
Entry 2: Caves and Mineshafts
Entry 3: Water
Entry 4: Quit Staring
Entry 5: Training
Entry 6: Teleport
Entry 7: Control
Entry 8: The End
Introduction
If you’ve played Minecraft and you came across and Enderman, you may have wondered what the background is of this mysterious, dark creature. Well, to help you unde
rstand its origin, Edward the Enderman has agreed to tell us of his life: His worries and frustrations, his joys and his passion.
Perhaps it will surprise you how much we are like the Enderman in this diary sometimes. Despite his obscure appearance, he is a real person with thoughts and feelings that he is ready to share. His teleporting ability may have offended some in the past, but in this diary, he shows you how wonderfully it has served him and those around him.
So get ready and dive into this engaging story of an Enderman.
Entry 1: The Dark
I like the dark. I just do. Some say I’m crazy, but that’s just how it is. I don’t like the bright sunlight, and having a shady spot just makes my day better. Why? Nobody knows. I don’t even get it myself, but something inside me says I was meant to stay in the shadows.
I’m a little lost. I haven’t seen anyone of the same species around for years, so I must have drifted away from them somehow. I always knew I was different than all those miners in blue clothes coming my way. I’m just made out of something else, and that’s okay, I guess. One of my goals in life is to find my own kind. They must be somewhere, right? I mean, it’s not like they’ve all gone extinct, or have they?
Well, here’s the dilemma: If they are alive, they are probably hiding in the shadows, just like I always do. That doesn’t make it easy, does it? It’s like we are all subconsciously preventing each other from finding each other by hiding. Not very smart if you ask me, but I understand, since I am the same way.
So that’s my story. I guess I can stop writing now, but that would completely boring, wouldn’t it?
Okay, okay, I’ll tell you the rest.
It started when I was little. Like I mentioned, I hate the light, but I was expected to go to a regular school, with all the regular kids, and behave in a regular way. Not cool.
I went to school early in the morning so I could get there before the sun rose. I just wanted to be inside, so I didn’t have to experience it shining in my face. But then the problem would start all over again in the classroom, when the teacher turned on the classroom lights and I still felt like it was too bright. Again, not cool at all. I was about to die in there.
Oh, and Christmas? Not for me. Why? Because of all the candles. People were carrying them everywhere, and although they weren’t as bright as lights, the flames of an actual fire would hurt my eyes even more.
“What’s wrong with him?” one of the kids asked her teacher one time.
“He just doesn’t like the light, sweetie,” she teacher answered.
“Why? Light is great. I think it’s just silly,” the girl said.
“Well, why don’t you like the dark?” I asked her, seeing what she would answer to that!
“You can’t see in the dark, weirdo,” she sneered. “Here, take a look at this.”
I bent forward, having my curiosity take over and leaving my common sense behind me, fully trusting this mean girl for some reason.
“See how you like that!” she said as she shone a flashlight in my face.
“Aaarrghhh!” I yelled. “Get it out of my face!”
“Stop that!” the teacher said out loud, taking the flashlight away from her.
“You’re just a freak,” the girl said as she was pulled away. “Have a nice life, freak!”
It wasn’t the only time I got bullied, but I figured it out. One time, I was walking through the streets of the village with no particular purpose in mind, when my eye caught the sight of an extraordinary solution to my previous problem: Sunglasses.
Awesome! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before! I immediately counted my pocket change, made sure I had enough, and went inside to buy them. When I came out of that store with my newly acquired item, I was a different person.
The good thing about my quirks was that I was better at seeing in the dark. I surpassed all the other children when it came to night games. They were holding their hands in front of them, attempting to feel whatever was there; but I raced from one end to the other when I had to.
One time we were playing “capture the flag” in the dark. Kids were sneaking around and trying to hide on the ground.
“Sssshhtt…” one of them said. “They’ll see us. Duck.”
Just like the others, I kept low and lay on the humid moss next to a big tree. I saw everything, even a half mile away. The sun had already set and the only dim light that shone through the trees of the forest, was that of the moon. However, it wasn’t enough for any of the boys to make sense of what was going on. They just couldn’t see that far, because it was too dark outside.
“Give me those binoculars,” one of the boys said to another.
“Sure. But I’m warning you: They don’t help much. I couldn’t see anything with them. Who knows where their flag is… it could be anywhere for all I know.”
“What color does the flag have?” I asked.
“Why would that even matter?” the boy asked. “The area is pitch black out there. There is no way you could distinguish color now anyway.”
“I could,” I put forward.
“Sure. For what it’s worth, they said the flag would be red.”
“Piece of cake,” I said. “It’s right there.”
I pointed at a 40 degree angle somewhat in front of me.
“You’re kidding, right? How can you see that? You’re just playing with us, aren’t you?” the boy said.
“No, I’m serious. My eyes are pretty good in the dark. The flag is on top of that little hill, beyond the sycamore tree and the giant rock. It’s standing behind it on a flagpole made out of a branch.”
“I think he’s onto something,” another boy said. “I say we trust his judgment and go for it.”
“Sure,” the other boy agreed. “On the count of three. One… two… three… let’s run!”
“Go! Go! Go!” a kid with glasses shouted as he sprinted in the direction I had pointed at.
It was a moment of trust. I loved it.
We all ran towards the flag, zigzagging through the trees ahead of us until we reached the heavy rock I pointed out. The moonlight seemed to help a little, and before they knew it, the boys in my team were holding the opponents’ flag. They cheered and expressed their joy with victory cries. I got patted on the back and congratulated by the adult who was in charge of the game. The other team hated me, but at least I gained favor with half the class.
Another time, one of the children in the neighborhood, Jordan, came to my door.
“Would you like to go hunting with my dad and me?” he asked.
“Why are you asking me? We hardly know each other. Take one of your friends instead,” I said.
“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t know you very well, and you probably know nothing about me either. We don’t hang out together and we’re not good friends. But I heard of what you did with capturing the flag. I was on the other team and I hid the flag so well in the dark! I was amazed that you found it. Afterwards, the boys from your team were bragging about how they did it and they mentioned how far you could see in the dark. So I was wondering if you could accompany us and help us find some of those nervous deer we always miss.”
I had to think for a moment. I had never gone hunting before. I didn’t even know how to handle a bow and arrow.
“Come on,” Jordan insisted. “My dad would love it. I know you could help us.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll come along.”
I followed him to his parents’ house, after which we went inside. The home looked cozy and warm, with fuzzy furniture and with family portraits and paintings on the walls. I wasn’t too crazy about the red color of the walls, but I did like the hunting trophies his father had proudly hung above the chairs and tables. Some animals who were the victims of his endeavors were turned into soft rugs or coats. It was clear that hunting had been a family tradition for a long time.
“Dad, I brought Edward home. He said he will go hunting with us.”
It was silent fo
r about five seconds. Then I heard, “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go shoot some dear.”
A giant man with a beard, who obviously was Jordan’s father, walked down the stairs with a strong bow and fancy arrows on his back. He was wearing black, leather boots, a brown jacket, and a thick, wide belt with a golden buckle on it. When he reached the main floor, we got introduced to each other, said goodbye to the missis, and left to the woods.
At first, it was boring. We saw no game. Nothing. No rabbits, no birds, no deer… I was even told there were some wolves and cougars in this forest, but none of them had the guts to show up. It’s like they knew we were there to claim their lives.
We looked for two hours, and all we saw was a squirrel, who rapidly disappeared in his tree trunk.
Then I saw something.
“There,” I said, pointing to a deer.
“Where?” Jordan’s dad asked anxiously.
“Over there. Don’t you see it?”
He put his hand above his eyes as if it would make him see farther. He squinted his eyes and tried to concentrate. Then he shrugged and admitted that he still didn’t see anything but he would move into that direction because I said so.
We got closer and closer. All that time, I could see the deer and knew exactly where to aim. But I didn’t have the bow and arrow; Jordan’s father did. At times, I was tempted to take it away from him and shoot the deer myself, but I knew I wasn’t good at shooting. It wouldn’t make any sense.
So here we were, one of us was a skilled archer but couldn’t see far enough, and the other, me, saw perfectly in the dark but wasn’t able to shoot a single arrow. It frustrated me. I was tired and hungry and this hunting thing wasn’t going anywhere. As I kept telling him where to aim, he continued asking me what to aim for, since he didn’t see anything further than a few feet ahead of him. I wondered if there was perhaps some way to hand him my abilities or to learn archery so we could have more success in the future. But that would take hours of practice, and there was no way I could make him see in the dark that far.