The Jungle Temple Oracle

by Mark Cheverton

  The two zombies were almost on him.

  He pulled harder and harder on the spiderwebs, but they did not yield.

  Should I yell out for help? he thought. But it might attract more monsters.

  Looking at the approaching monsters, he could see they were only a few steps away . . . he had no choice. But just as he was about to yell, Digger turned the corner and sprinted toward the two creatures.

  “I don’t think so!” he yelled, his booming voice echoing throughout the library, causing dust to fall from the shelves. “FOR MINECRAFT!”

  His pickaxe was a blur as it tore into the two creatures. The monsters turned when they felt the bite of his mighty pick and reached out with their dark claws, but they stood little chance. Digger smashed into one, then chopped at the other, tearing the HP from them in seconds.

  And suddenly, where there used to be two monsters, there were none.

  A moan sounded behind Gameknight. Turning his head, he could see the last zombie was almost on him. Digger was at the other end of the aisle, too far away to help. Gameknight tugged and tugged at his sword arm, but it was still stuck.

  “Gameknight, don’t move!” Digger yelled.

  “Don’t move? Are you kidding? I can’t move!”

  “Good!” the big NPC replied.

  Holding the end of the pick’s handle with two hands, he brought it high up over his head, then stepped forward and threw it with all his might. The tool spun through the air, end-over-end, until it hit the zombie with a thunk. The creature stumbled around, flashing red again and again. And then Crafter was at its back, slashing at the creature with his own blade. In seconds, it was gone.

  Stepping up to Gameknight999, Crafter chopped at the spiderweb with his sword—the only way to efficiently cut through the silky strands.

  “Are you OK?” Crafter asked.

  “Yeah . . . thanks to Digger, and you.”

  “I found what we’re looking for,” Crafter said. “Come quick.”

  The young NPC ran to a ladder that led to the top floor, the others following close behind. Then, dashing around the raised walkway, he stopped in front of one bookshelf, the tomes before him looking ancient and worn. Gameknight could see what looked like the same books they’d seen in the last stronghold, before going to The End. He saw numerous titles that he recognized: a book called The Great Zombie Invasion, another called The Great Shame of the Ghasts, one called The Joining, and one that looked older than all the rest. It was called The Awakening.

  How is it that these books are here, when I saw them in the other stronghold library on a totally different server?

  He reached out and pulled down The Awakening, looking at the cover with wonder and confusion in his eyes.

  “I know what you are thinking,” Crafter said. “How is it that these books are here, when we saw them in the other library?”

  Gameknight nodded.

  “You see, stronghold libraries are like ender chests,” Crafter explained. “What goes into one stronghold library goes into all of them. Every library has all the same books, no matter which server someone is on.”

  Gameknight nodded again as he put the ancient book back on the shelf. Crafter then reached in front of Gameknight and pulled down a volume called The Oracle.

  “Here’s what I was looking for,” Crafter said.

  “Maybe we should just take it and go?” Gameknight asked.

  Crafter shook his head.

  “These books can never leave the library,” Crafter explained. “If they do, then they will turn to dust. They can only survive the ravages of time within these walls. We must read it here.”

  “Then Digger, go get the others and bring them here,” Gameknight commanded. “Follow the torches back to the fountain room.”

  “Consider it done,” Digger said as he sprinted back toward the ladder and disappeared from sight.

  “OK, let’s find the information we need and get out of here,” Gameknight said to his friend. “I have the feeling that something really bad is about to happen.”

  “This will be quick,” Crafter said has he shuffled quickly through the pages. “Here it is . . . ahh . . . this is what we need. It says, ‘The Oracle is a creature of power and wonder. She was brought into Minecraft to save us from the ravages on the Intruder. Though her solution is not quick, it will save us all, in the end. It will take the strength and sacrifice of many to stop the Intruder, but all hope rests on the User-that-is-not-a-user. Only he can save Minecraft from this threat. It will seem impossible, at times, for the Intruder is strong and resourceful, but the User-that-is-not-a-user must not give up. You can accomplish only what you can imagine.’ It goes on for a while here, and . . .”

  “What did it say at the end there . . . the last sentence?” Gameknight asked.

  “Ahh . . . oh, here it is . . . ‘You can accomplish only what you can imagine.’ That’s what that voice said to you, right?” Crafter asked. “It was as if the text was talking directly to you.”

  Gameknight shivered for just an instant, then looked up at Crafter.

  “Does it say how to find the Oracle?” Gameknight asked.

  Crafter shuffled through more of the book, then stopped on a page that was slightly torn. It looked as if there were stains on the page, like something had been spilled across the bottom . . . something red.

  “It says, ‘Continue the path set forth by the great spires of ice. The two juniors point to the senior, which points the way to the Oracle. Follow the rising sun and you will find her temple. But beware of the jungle, for it hides deadly creatures that will stop all but the most brave and resilient.’”

  Crafter closed the book and put it back on the shelf. As he turned to face Gameknight999, he heard a commotion on the ground floor of the library, many feet shuffling across the dusty wooden floor. Drawing his diamond sword, Gameknight moved to the ladder and held his sword up high, ready to attack. Hunter’s red hair suddenly popped up through the opening, her warm brown eyes staring up at him.

  “You looking to give me a hair cut or something?” she said with a smile. “Nothing personal, but I don’t think so.” She then glanced at Crafter. “You find what you need?”

  The young NPC nodded his head and smiled.

  “Then let’s get out of here,” she added as she dropped back down the ladder.

  Gameknight followed her down the ladder and found a collection of NPCs in the library, some of them out in the stone hallway. Digger stood next to the door, his mighty pickaxe resting on his shoulder.

  “We have what we need,” Gameknight said to the NPCs.

  Glancing at the collection, he could see that some were missing.

  “Where are Planter and Baker and Weaver?” Gameknight asked.

  “They’re guarding the tunnel,” Digger answered. “We thought it best to . . .”

  Suddenly a voice echoed down the stone passage.

  “CREEPERS!” the voice yelled. It was Planter. “CREEPERS!”

  An explosion shook the very foundation of the stronghold, the blast cutting off Planter’s voice abruptly. A cloud of dust billowed down the hallway, making the NPCs cough and struggle for breath.

  A scream pierced through dusty air, followed by a sound that could only have been a stone block being broken. Another explosion rocked the hallway, followed by the sounds of more broken blocks.

  “What’s going on?” Baker asked, his voice shaking with fear.

  “I don’t know,” Digger answered, “but I think we should get out of here.”

  “I agree,” Gameknight said. “Let’s get going.”

  As he stepped out into the hallway, his ears were instantly filled with that swishing-squeaking sound, like some kind of creature scurrying across the floor. But this time it didn’t sound as if it were just a lone creature; this time it sound like there were many.

  Turning to look at his companions, he could see that they all heard the sound . . . and they all looked scared.

  “What is that sou
nd?” Carver asked.

  “I don’t know,” answered Runner.

  “I know what it is,” Gameknight answered, his voice filled with trepidation and fear.

  “What?” Hunter asked. “What is it?”

  “It’s the swarm.”

  CHAPTER 13

  THE SWARM

  They ran out of the library and headed toward the only exit they knew. The problem was that they were also running toward that swishing-squeaking sound. Turning the corner, they found a section of the passageway completely missing, chunks of floor and wall that were clearly victim to the creepers’ explosive embrace. Torches lay scattered on the ground as well as some inventory items . . . likely the remains of the missing NPCs.

  Suddenly, they heard feet running toward them through the darkness. Drawing his sword, Gameknight moved to the front of the group and readied himself for battle. Hunter moved next to him and placed a torch on the wall. As the circle of light expanded, they saw Weaver running straight toward them, a look of panic on his face. His iron armor was dented and cracked as if he’d been in a huge battle.

  “They’re coming! Run!” Weaver said as he approached.

  He reached Gameknight and Hunter, but did not stop. Digger reached out and grabbed the NPC and held him tight, but the villager’s momentum knocked both of them to the floor.

  “Weaver,” Crafter said as he helped the NPC to his feet, “try to calm down and tell us what happened.”

  “They’re both gone,” he said as he was trying to catch his breath. “They were both standing there, then Planter saw the creepers and charged them. He got two of them before the others exploded.”

  “Are all the creepers gone?” Hunter asked.

  “Only one survived, but that one got Baker,” Weaver said.

  “So they’re all gone,” Hunter said. “We’re OK?”

  “NO!” Weaver snapped. “There was something there other than the creepers!” He paused for a moment to catch his breath, then continued. “They came out of the blocks . . . little spiny things with segmented bodies.”

  Hunter looked at Gameknight as if she didn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “I saw them!” Weaver added. “They were the color of stone . . . all gray. At first we didn’t see them; the little monsters blended in with the stone brick, but then we saw their tiny eyes reflecting the light of the torches. We thought they might be bats, but then they started making that weird swishing sound. Suddenly, they were all around us, coming right out of the blocks. I killed a couple, but for every one I hit, another jumped out of a block, and then another and another.”

  “What are you talking about?” Crafter asked him.

  “Silverfish,” Gameknight said, the swishing-squeaking sound suddenly making sense to him. “They’re throughout the strongholds. You kill one and two more come out of the blocks. That’s what we heard swishing and squeaking back near the fountain room. Silverfish must have been the swarm that got all the kids way back when.”

  “What do we do?” Carver asked. “Fight?”

  “NO!” Gameknight snapped. “We don’t fight, we run. Silverfish never stop attacking, and when you wound one, it calls out to the others hiding nearby in the blocks, increasing their number until they swarm over everything in their path.” Gameknight gazed at his comrades, making sure they were all listening, for all their lives depended on this. “No, we don’t fight . . . we run, as fast as we can.”

  Just then, the passageway filled with the swishing-squeaking sounds of a large group of silverfish. They all turned and faced the sound. From the darkness, Gameknight could see beady eyes staring at them. And then one of them stepped into the light. It was grayish in color and had a rat-like body that was segmented with tiny armored plates. Needle sharp spines stuck out along their back and tail, making them deadly to touch. Gameknight cringed at the sight of them.

  What was Notch thinking when he added these to the game?

  “We can’t just stand here,” Stonecutter said. “We have to do something.”

  “We’re going to do something,” Gameknight added. “We’re going to run.” He then turned and faced the other NPCs. “Don’t stop for anything. If you stop to fight, the monsters will surround you and quickly you’ll be overwhelmed. Run . . . and run for your lives.”

  Putting his sword away, Gameknight turned to face the disgusting little creatures, then sprinted right at them, his eyes on the exit corridor that lay on the other side of the swarm. He could hear the others behind him following, but he didn’t dare turn back and look.

  As soon as he neared the silverfish, he jumped over it, then jumped sideways as another shot toward him. He turned the next corner and found the hallway filled with at least twenty of the creatures, waiting for him. Resisting the urge to draw his sword, he ran straight for the monsters, jumping as high as he could. But behind him, he heard the sound of tiny little squeals as one of the NPCs stabbed at the monsters with their sword.

  “NO, DON’T ATTACK THEM!” he shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the echoes of swords glancing off stone.

  CRACK!

  He heard a block break nearby. Two more creatures leapt toward him. Dodging to the side, he continued his run. But as he sprinted, he heard more blocks breaking, the volume of the swishing-squeaking getting louder and louder.

  A scream pierced through the tunnel as one of the NPCs fell. He could tell by the sound that silverfish were overwhelming the poor soul. Resisting the urge to go back and help, Gameknight knew that all he could do right now for his friends was get to the exit and make sure it was secure.

  Following the torches, he wove his way through the twisting tunnels, shooting up flights of steps and down deserted hallways. Everywhere, he saw silverfish popping out of blocks and the foolish NPCs behind him tried to fight them off. Jumping over what he thought was the last of the little monsters, he streaked toward Digger’s spiral staircase. More screams echoed from behind him, but he kept running. He could hear their footsteps close behind. The silverfish were now behind the party and were chasing down the slowest of the group.

  Another scream echoed through the hallway as the sound of an iron sword ringing off stone filled his ears. Whoever was back there was trying to fight them off, but with every blow he landed, two more silverfish popped out of the walls. And then the screams stopped as the sword clattered to the ground.

  Another one gone because of me.

  And then they were at the stairs. Gameknight stopped to place more torches, raising the light level so that they could all see better.

  “Go, up the stairs!” Gameknight yelled as he stood by the exit.

  Carver, who was right behind him, shot up the stairs without a word, followed by Runner and Cobbler. Hunter reached his side and pushed him toward the exit.

  “Go!” she shouted.

  But Gameknight shook his head.

  “Not until the others are safe,” he replied. “You go!”

  “I’ll wait here for a while,” she said as she drew her sword.

  The sounds of scraping tails mixed with the scurrying of tiny little feet filled the corridor.

  “Here come the others,” Hunter said as she moved forward, her sword held low.

  Gameknight could see Crafter and Digger running with all their might, Carpenter bringing up the rear. Suddenly, Carpenter fell. His screams filled the passage as a wave of scaly silverfish flowed over him like an ocean wave. His body flashed red over and over like a blinking strobe . . . and in seconds he was gone.

  “NOOOO!” Gameknight yelled.

  “Get up the stairs!” Crafter yelled as he ran. “I have an idea how to slow them down and keep them in the stronghold.”

  Hunter turned and ran up the stairs while Gameknight stood there waiting for his friends. Digger shot past him without even slowing down, leaving Gameknight and Crafter to face the multitudes.

  “What are you going to do?” Gameknight asked.

  “Soul sand,” Crafter said as he backed toward th
e stairs. “Silverfish can’t cross soul sand without taking damage.” He placed a couple of blocks on the ground in front of him. “It just came to me while I was running. I still had some blocks in my inventory from the last time we went to the Nether. You still remember that?”

  He smiled as he placed more blocks of the brown sandy cubes. Backing up farther, he continued to place the blocks before them, forming an unbroken line. A few of the creatures tried to get over the blocks, but they flashed red as soon as they touched them. One of the silverfish was fast enough to get over the soul sand, but Gameknight struck at it as soon as it was close. It disappeared with a puff, but was joined by the sound of breaking blocks; more silverfish had spawned.

  “Get up the stairs,” Crafter said. “I’ve got this.”

  Turning, Gameknight shot up the stairs as Crafter followed, placing blocks of soul sand as he climbed. Gameknight’s fear slowly eased as the light of day filtered down the rocky steps and brightened the walls with a golden hue. But when he exited the stairway and finally saw the blue sky overhead, he was greeted with the sounds of chaos.

  NPCs were running everywhere, many of them yelling and in a panic.

  “What is it?” Gameknight asked as Teacher ran by.

  “Monsters heading this way,” she said as she donned her armor and drew her sword. “They’re out on the open plain just as you predicted.”

  Without waiting for any response, she turned and headed for her spot on the defensive wall, moving between a woodcutter and the blacksmith.

  Looking about the landscape, he could see NPCs all taking up arms and positioning themselves behind walls or in towers, ready to stand up against the approaching wave of violence.

  An eerie silence settled across the camp. Gameknight could feel a cold wind blowing across the biome. The gentle breeze pushed and pulled on the tall glacial spikes, making some of them vibrate like tuning forks, adding a harmonious humming sound to the scene. For the briefest of moments, it was beautiful . . . until the wind shifted and the sound of clicking spiders and zombie growls filled the air. Looking up to the Father, he could see Monet and Stitcher at the ready, their faces lit with an iridescent hue from their magical bows. Monet waved down at him, then pointed out toward the oncoming horde. Gameknight moved up a nearby hill of snow and looked across the icy plain. He could see a large group of spiders approaching, their fuzzy black bodies standing out in stark contrast against the snow-covered ground. Intermingled amongst the eight-legged monsters were zombies and skeletons, all wearing leather hats, some wearing armor. He guessed there were maybe sixty total in the mob; not the most they’d had to face on this journey, but still a sizeable force. Looking down on the villagers, he knew that many would not leave this place, and this thought made him sad. Hopefully the plans they’d laid would help stem the tide of destruction and protect as many of his friends . . . no, his family . . . as possible.