The User-that-is-not-a-user shook his head. Fencer looked as if he had actually enjoyed the engagement, but for Gameknight, it had been terrifying. He hated being the sole person to decide what they were to do, which strategy to employ, which group should attack and who should be held in reserve. The responsibility felt like a two-ton weight on his square shoulders.
“Nothing makes a battle great,” Gameknight corrected. “The only way to make a battle great is to avoid it entirely. Violence only causes more violence.”
“But at least there are a few less spiders about,” Fencer said.
“Perhaps, but one thing concerns me.”
“What’s that?”
They swerved around a cluster of bushes, Gameknight going to the left as Fencer moved to the right.
“Herobrine is rebuilding his army,” the User-that-is-not-a-user continued. “Those spiders were heading to their queen, Shaikulud.”
“How do you know that?” Fencer asked. “Maybe they were just moving across the land and had the misfortune to run into us.”
“Because spiders don’t work or stay together unless they absolutely must,” Gameknight explained. “Spiders are solitary creatures. These were moving together in a small group when they could have been all spread out. No, they were definitely acting as an intentional team.” He sighed. “It was a mistake for us to disband the army. The war is clearly not over. We will be in need of Carver and his warriors before long.”
“What is it with you and wars?” another villager asked.
Gameknight turned to face Butcher, a villager who had likely come from the savannah village they were heading toward right now; he’d been with the group for as long as Gameknight could remember, back when the real Smithy was still around.
“You always seem to think there is a war brewing. We just defeated Herobrine, again. Don’t you think he’s had enough?”
“That evil virus will never be satisfied until he destroys everyone and everything,” Gameknight explained. “And now he can attack with ghasts, from the sky. The defenses around our villages are going to be useless.”
“We’ll see,” Butcher replied. “When you see my village in the savanna, look at our defenses and you tell me if you think they’re useless.”
The army ran on in silence until they reached the end of the forest and passed into the savanna. The lush green of the forest was replaced with a gray-green grass that stretched out before them. Strange trees dotted the landscape, each one bent and distorted in different ways, giving a unique look to each.
Gameknight loved the acacia trees in this biome. He thought they looked as if they were stopped in the middle of some kind of dance, each tree expressing itself in a distinctive way. At the top of a large hill, just at the edge of their vision, he could barely make out the village. The sight made the army move faster, all of them eager to get to safety.
They sprinted across the rolling hills of the savanna, the heat of the biome making the NPCs’ iron armor grow hot. Gameknight was glad he still wore the dark-brown leather armor that Smithy had on when he’d been killed. Many times, villagers had offered him a set of iron armor, but he felt he needed to continue wearing the leather armor to keep the disguise intact. The only iron he wore was his helmet, the large nosepiece covering his small, user-like nose. No doubt, if he removed the helmet, the other villagers would instantly see he did not have the bulbous nose of an NPC and his true identity would be revealed. As a result, he kept the iron helmet on at all times.
As they climbed the hill upon which the village sat, Gameknight noticed there were no guards on the walls. The archer towers seemed strangely absent of archers, and the gates to the village were wide open. He stopped on a wide plateau that sat before the community.
“Where are all the soldiers?” Gameknight asked. “Butcher, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” the NPC replied as he moved to the blacksmith’s side. “When we left the village to join you in battle, the mothers stayed behind to take care of the children, and the elderly remained to stand guard on the walls and watchtowers. Now they seem to all be gone.”
“I don’t like this,” Fencer said.
“Nor do I,” Gameknight said. “I fear something has happened.”
He glanced around at the other NPCs and saw the same expression on all their blocky faces: fear.
CHAPTER 6
SURPRISE
They approached the village walls quickly and quietly. There were massive fortifications standing eight blocks high, with alternating blocks along the top for archers to use as cover. Holes were cut into the walls with trapdoors covering the opening. They could be easily flipped open from inside, allowing more access for archers. Towers loomed on the corners of the wall standing another eight blocks higher, with openings on the sides to allow archers a clear field of fire. It was an impressive display; likely, this fortress was impregnable from ground forces. But from the air, Gameknight realized looking at it … it was vulnerable.
He moved to the wall and approached the open doors that should have been closed, especially since night had fallen. No movement was visible within the village.
This is not good, Gameknight thought.
Slowly, he drew his diamond sword with his right hand and the iron blade with his left. Turning, he looked at the other villagers. They all had the same concerned expressions on their square faces: something was wrong. Gameknight moved next to Fencer and Butcher and spoke in a low voice.
“Here’s what I want to do,” Gameknight said. “Swordsmen, go in first and form a battle line. Archers, go in behind and place blocks on the ground so they can fire over the heads of the front line. One company of swordsmen will go to the left flank, and another to the right, to protect our sides.” He glanced around at their worried faces, watching as fear slowly changed to rage. “Don’t worry, we’ll get in there and find out what happened to our people.”
“I have the feeling they’re okay,” one of the NPCs said. Gameknight looked at his smock and instantly recognized him as a carpenter.
“What?” Butcher asked, an angry tone to his voice.
“I said I think everyone is okay,” Carpenter repeated. “So don’t start shooting right away.”
“Why do you think they’re okay?” the User-that-is-not-a-user asked.
“Well … umm … I sorta had a dream about it before we left the desert village,” Carpenter explained. “It was a strange dream, like I really was back in the village. But anyway, I saw everyone there, and I think they’re all safe.”
“A dream … that’s impossible,” Fencer said with a laugh. “You’re an NPC. We don’t remember our dreams. None of us do. Maybe you were just exhausted from the battle and hallucinating.”
“I only know what I remember,” Carpenter said, “and it was a dream, a strange but real dream.”
“Well, no offense, but I think I’ll just trust my sword first and your dreams second,” Butcher said. “Those are my people in there, and I’m gonna find out what happened, and punish those responsible, if even a single villager is hurt.”
He turned to Gameknight, Butcher’s black hair hung across one eye. He reached up and pushed the wayward strands back into place.
“Let’s do this,” the NPC growled.
“Okay, everybody, run as quietly as possible,” Gameknight said. “Now!”
The NPCs darted toward the village, swordsmen in the front and on the sides, archers at the back. They swept through the village gates, each warrior’s nerves stretched to its limits. But as soon as they stopped and began setting up their defenses, loud shouts rose up from behind buildings and through open windows. Mothers and children and grandparents all ran forth with flowers in their hands, celebrating the return of their friends and family.
The warriors immediately relaxed as they put away their weapons and ran to embrace their spouses and friends. Many wives and grandparents wept upon learning their loved ones had not returned from the war. The cost of stopping Herobrine
had been severe, and many families had been shattered in order to keep Minecraft safe; now they were beginning to pay the price that would haunt some of them for a long, long time.
Walking through the village, Gameknight consoled those that grieved, many of whom he didn’t really know. But they all knew Smithy, the blacksmith leader of this army. So Gameknight continued to play the part, though living the lie still nagged at him. He wanted to come clean and tell them all the truth, but the User-that-is-not-a-user was afraid they would turn on him. Gameknight finally felt like he was a part of the community; he didn’t want to lose that.
Am I just being selfish? he thought. Wouldn’t the truth be better, regardless of the consequences?
Gameknight shook his head as he contemplated these questions. He wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was, so instead he focused on what could be done, now, to help others, and that was to console those that mourned their lost loved ones.
As he moved through the village, he found Carpenter standing off to the side, watching both the celebration around them as well as the sadness. Something about the NPC’s story earlier bothered Gameknight.
“Carpenter, you mentioned a dream,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said.
The tall, skinny NPC looked over at Gameknight with warm hazel eyes that seemed to sparkle with golden embers in the moonlight. He was unusually tall and skinny for a villager, with dark-brown hair that was thinning across the top of his square head.
“I didn’t really want to talk about it, but I felt it was important to say out there on the grassy plain,” Carpenter explained.
“You said it was a dream, but it felt real?” Gameknight asked.
Carpenter nodded his square head, his short-cropped hair bobbing up and down.
“Can you tell me more about what it was like?”
“Sure,” Carpenter replied. “The first strange thing about the dream was the fog; there was a silvery mist that seemed to wrap over everything. I could feel the moisture in the mist and it was incredibly cold. But then it began to fade away and I saw the village. Everyone was sleeping and had a transparent sort of look to them, but every now and then, an NPC would turn solid, as if they were really there with me. I thought they could see me for just an instant, but then they’d fade again, and only their transparent, sleeping body would remain.” The tall NPC lowered his voice and moved closer. “I know it sounds crazy, but I think the dream was real. I think it was trying to tell me something.”
And then Gameknight realized what Carpenter was talking about. Suddenly, he remembered his friend Crafter telling him about a distant great-great uncle from a hundred years in his past, which, of course, was now Gameknight’s present.
“I’m sure no one believes you about dreaming, because NPCs don’t realize they dream,” Gameknight said. “They never remember their dreams, but I know you do. I believe you.”
The tall villager relaxed and finally smiled.
“What you experienced is called the Land of Dreams,” Gameknight explained. “You’re a Dream Walker, and I am as well.”
“You mean you dream too?” Carpenter asked.
“Not for a while, but I’ve learned how to control the dreams, so that I can go into the Land of Dreams whenever I want.”
“Really?”
Gameknight nodded.
“I can teach you this skill,” the User-that-is-not-a-user explained. “But you must realize there are dangers in the Land of Dreams. Some of the monsters can go into the dream world, and their claws are just as sharp as they are in the real world. It is important for you to know: if you die in the Land of Dreams, you die in Minecraft. So you must be careful.”
Carpenter smiled and put an arm around Gameknight’s shoulder and gave him a hug.
“Smithy, I’ve been struggling to understand these dreams since the … awakening,” Carpenter said. “Finally, I can make some sense of this.”
“Just remember, there are real dangers there in that silvery mist,” Gameknight warned. “You must always be careful.”
The tall NPC nodded and gave the blacksmith another smile, then moved off to join the celebration. Glancing across the courtyard, he saw the Oracle smiling at him as she tapped her cane on the ground, but then the smile changed to a scowl as if she’d just sensed something dangerous. The User-that-is-not-a-user thought he heard the faint cry of a ghast, just barely audible and far, far away, but he wasn’t sure; it could have been his exhausted imagination. By the look on the Oracle’s wrinkled face, Gameknight was sure something in Minecraft had changed.
He glanced up at a small cloud that was floating by and sensed trouble, but not in the fluffy rectangle high in the air. Instead, the trouble he felt was far away, like a distant storm, but it was approaching … fast.
“What are you up to, Herobrine?” Gameknight said to himself. “I know you’re planning something, but what?”
Weaver ran up to him and grabbed him by the arm.
“Come on Smithy, the celebration is starting,” the young boy said, his bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement. Gameknight shook his head to clear his thoughts, and allowed himself to be led toward the celebration, even though he kept a wary eye skyward.
CHAPTER 7
LAND OF DREAMS
Gameknight had gone to bed soon after the celebration got underway. He was exhausted, not just from running through the desert, through the forest, and into the savanna, but also from the stress of responsibility. The User-that-is-not-a-user was continually afraid that he’d do something wrong that would get someone hurt, or worse. He had to make all the decisions and come up with their plans all by himself. If his decisions were wrong and someone died that wasn’t supposed to, it could alter the future and hurt his friends as well. This responsibility and constant state of fear was exhausting and wearing him out. But when Gameknight’s head finally rested on a pillow, much of that fatigue disappeared as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier until …
The mist wrapped around his ankles like a murky bog, clinging to him as if afraid to let go. It was wet and cold, like a blanket left out in the rain overnight. There was a silvery sheen to the mist, as if it were shining from within, the damp fog appearing almost magical. Instantly, Gameknight999 knew this was the Land of Dreams. It had been a while since he’d been here. The last time had been long ago when he’d battled Erebus, the king of the Endermen, on the steps of the Source, with his friends Hunter and Stitcher at his side. And now he was back again … and because he was in the past, Erebus was still alive!
Gameknight had the faintest memory of Crafter mentioning his great-great uncle, Carpenter. His friend had said his ancestor was the first Dream Walker, the first to ever enter the Land of Dreams. He knew there had been many more throughout the history of Minecraft. His friends Hunter and Stitcher had both been Dream Walkers, and, of course, Gameknight himself was as well. Their job was to protect the NPCs from the monsters that prowl in the ethereal world.
Gameknight knew that typically, NPCs didn’t dream, or more accurately, they didn’t remember their dreams. As they began to fall asleep, villagers tended to pass through the Land of Dreams before they became completely submerged into their sleeping mind. And at that point, while they were transitioning from consciousness to fully asleep, they would materialize in the Land of Dreams and would be vulnerable to the monsters that preyed in the silvery mists. It was the Dream Walker’s job to protect the villagers and ensure everyone was safe.
As the cold, silvery mist cleared, Gameknight could see the village around him. The structures all appeared to be solid, but he knew he could pass through them if he focused his mind. Like in a dream, things were only as real as you imagined them to be.
He walked through the village, moving through the walls of homes and peering through windows, making sure everyone was safe. Occasionally, he saw the sleeping form of an NPC. Those that were awake and those that were completely asleep had a transparent look to them, but the ones that moved from wakefulness to sleep took on a
solid form for just a few moments, then became transparent again.
Focusing his mind on the desert village near Dragon’s Teeth, Gameknight999 teleported at the speed of thought. Instantly, he was standing at the center of the sandy village. The cobblestone walls that they’d built still stood strong around the village, with translucent villagers walking along the battlements, watching for monsters. He moved out into the desert and found it empty, save for the ever-diligent cacti standing guard over the scorched landscape. There were no monsters nearby, but for some reason, he had a feeling something dangerous was approaching.
Glancing up at the sky, the User-that-is-not-a-user could see stars sparkling like shining gems sewn into a dark tapestry that stretched from horizon to horizon. Clouds were drifting toward the village from the east, but for some reason, they seemed to glow and sparkle as if burning embers were bouncing about within the fluffy rectangles. As they neared the village, a bright ball of fire streaked down toward the NPCs on the fortified wall. It smashed into the cobblestone, tearing a gigantic hole into the fortification as if some kind of giant had just taken a bite out of it. The warriors that had been standing atop the battlements were gone, consumed in the flames.
Another fireball fell from the sparkling clouds. It struck the blacksmith’s home, causing hungry flames to lick up the walls of the wooden structure, quickly covering the rest of the side and the roof.
Gameknight yelled up at the clouds, but he couldn’t do anything; he was in the Land of Dreams, and all this was happening in the real world. Villagers ran about, grabbing buckets and filling them with water, then throwing it on the flames. But that was exactly what the ghasts wanted: to draw the NPCs out. More fireballs fell on the village, but instead of hitting the structures, they were aimed at those with buckets, consuming their HP in seconds.
“I have to do something,” Gameknight cried.
Quickly, he closed his eyes and concentrated on Carver. Instantly, the User-that-is-not-a-user appeared in his house, the stocky NPC still asleep. But as the noise grew, the NPC stirred and began to wake. As he moved from asleep to awake, he passed through the transition zone again and solidified.
Herobrine's War Page 4