Herobrine's War

by Mark Cheverton

  “FIREBALLS! LOOK OUT!” Weaver shouted.

  Gameknight jumped into the water again and glanced upward. A woodcutter had been in mid-air when the fireball hit him. The doomed soul disappeared just as he was about to drop into what would have been the life-saving water.

  “EVERYONE, FOLLOW ME!” he yelled.

  “OINK!” Wilbur added.

  Gameknight sprinted along the river bank, heading upstream. He could hear the ghasts in the distance; likely they were checking their surroundings to see if any of the villagers had chosen to run away from the river and into the savanna. If any did that, they wouldn’t last much longer.

  The thunderous roar grew louder as he neared the mouth of the river. Ahead, a waterfall cascaded over the edge of a cliff and into the river, just like he remembered. Gameknight quickly scanned the sky for the terrifying ghasts. He could see them far downstream, searching the savanna. Suddenly, one of them turned and spotted him. It screeched a terrible, high-pitched scream that sounded as if some animal were being hurt.

  “They’ve seen us,” Gameknight said. “Everyone, move fast and follow me.”

  He set Wilbur on the ground just as Weaver approached. In the water, Gameknight saw Carver holding the child, Milky, as the little NPC’s mother and father had both been seriously wounded. Reaching out, he helped the stocky villager onto the banks.

  “Thanks,” Carver replied.

  Gameknight nodded his square head, then pulled out a block of dirt and streaked forward. The riverbank walls grew steeper and steeper the further he ran upstream, until they became sheer walls. If the ghasts reached them now, they would be trapped. Eventually, the projectile damage from the fireballs would get them all.

  SCREECH! Another of the evil floating monsters cried out, its evil eyes focused directly on the blacksmith.

  Gameknight moved along the edge of the river, placing blocks of dirt next to the steep walls. He didn’t have many blocks with him, so he had to space them apart as wide as he could. If he ran out of materials, they would be in trouble. The waterfall was maybe a dozen blocks away and the walls here were solid stone. Reaching out, Gameknight999 placed another block of dirt, then jumped to it. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the villagers following him, terror and grief painted on their square faces.

  Placing another block, the User-that-is-not-a-user jumped forward, then put down his last two. He was within two blocks of the waterfall, but had no more cubes of dirt. In a state of near-panic, Gameknight couldn’t remember if there was a ledge in the waterfall or if the crashing liquid just fell straight down into the river. The only way to tell was to jump blindly into the water. But if there was nothing to land on, the waterfall would push him downstream, right toward the approaching monsters.

  I have no choice, Gameknight thought. I have to make the jump. If I miss, then it’s over.

  Have faith, child, a calming voice said in the back of his head, the lyrical notes of music adding to the soothing words.

  “Weaver,” Gameknight shouted over his shoulder. “If I make it, have everyone follow me.”

  “Follow you … where?”

  “Through the waterfall,” Gameknight replied.

  “Through the … are you insane?”

  “Maybe,” Gameknight replied.

  “Smithy be crazy!” Carver exclaimed. “GO!”

  Gameknight set Wilbur on the block at his feet, took a large breath, then jumped.

  CHAPTER 17

  THE BUTCHER’S BILL

  A tidal wave smashed down upon Gameknight as he plunged into the waterfall. He started to fall, and for an instant thought he’d made the wrong decision, but, thankfully, he felt a solid surface under his feet a block down.

  There was a ledge—he was safe!

  Climbing quickly out of the water, Gameknight stepped through the rest of the waterfall. A wide cave stood before him, its walls hidden in shadows. He placed a torch on the ground near the water, then stood in the light and waved. Instantly, villagers began to leap through the cascading flow.

  First to come through was Weaver with Wilbur in his hands. The pig seemed a little upset at the violent shower, but was glad to be away from the ghasts.

  “Weaver, move the torch to the back of the cave,” Gameknight said. “I’m going back out to check on everyone.”

  The young boy nodded his head as he lifted the burning light and moved further into the cavern.

  Gameknight jumped into the waterfall and landed on a stone block, then jumped again, moving back outside to the path he’d just created. Along the banks he saw villagers struggling to make it toward the waterfall; some of them were limping badly. NPCs had arms around friends and family members and even total strangers, offering help to any that needed it. In the distance, he could see the ghasts glaring at him as they soared through the air, closing in.

  “We have to hurry, the ghasts are coming!” Gameknight shouted.

  He pulled out his bow and moved downstream. Drawing an arrow back, he aimed well above the distant monster, then released. The pointed shaft leapt off his bowstring and streaked into the air like a missile. It soared in a graceful arc that was almost beautiful as it closed in on its target. The boxy monster closest to the arrow weaved sideways, easily avoiding it.

  “What good did that do?” Carver asked.

  “If I keep firing, maybe I can slow them down a little and give the others time to get through the waterfall,” Gameknight explained. “And by others, I mean you as well! Get through the waterfall now before it’s too late.”

  He drew back another arrow and fired. As it flew through the air, he quickly notched another arrow and let it fly. But, surprisingly, instead of one arrow streaking through the sky, a dozen flew up into the air. Turning, he found Carver standing defiantly next to him, his bow in his strong hands, and a handful of archers joining them along the banks.

  “Let’s give them another volley,” Carver said, his voice booming across the savanna.

  More arrows streaked into the air. None of them hit the ghasts, but they forced the monsters to float higher and swerve to the left and right, slowing their approach. Gameknight stepped back and got in line with the other warriors, adding his arrows to theirs, firing as fast as he could.

  One of the ghasts, high up in the air, launched a fireball at the defenders.

  “Everyone scatter,” Carver shouted.

  The warriors spread out as the flaming projectile smashed to the ground right where they had been standing.

  “Fire back!” Carver yelled.

  The archers let loose another barrage, their arrows whistling high into the sky. But in response, more fireballs were fired back. Gameknight glanced over his shoulder to check on the progress of the villagers. Nearly all of them were through the waterfall.

  “Some of you go through the waterfall while the rest of us hold off the ghasts,” Gameknight said.

  The warriors all stood their ground, firing arrows as fast as they could draw and release.

  “This is ridiculous!’ Gameknight shouted. “We need to get everyone through the waterfall.”

  A wave of fireballs plummeted toward them. The User-that-is-not-a-user jumped into the river, narrowly avoiding a fireball. As he climbed back to the river bank, he found two piles of items floating just off the ground; not everyone had been as lucky as he.

  “Fall back,” Gameknight said, then screamed. “FALL BACK!”

  The archers slowly walked backward as they continued to fire at the airborne monsters. When they reached Gameknight’s hastily built walkway, Carver moved to his side.

  “Go through; we’ll follow,” Carver said.

  He gave the User-that-is-not-a-user a shove toward the falls.

  “Okay, everyone through the water!” Gameknight yelled, then ran across the blocks of dirt and jumped through the rushing water. When he climbed into the cave, soaking wet, he turned and waited for the others. Carver came through, followed by a woodcutter and a sadler, but then a massive attack of fire
balls descended down upon the river. Gameknight and Carver ducked as some of the fireballs flew through the waterfall and smashed into the cave walls. The blast was deafening as flames lit up the opposite side of the waterfall like an inferno of destruction. When the blinding light from the explosive attack finally subsided, Gameknight looked back to the waterfall; no one else was coming through.

  “They’re gone,” Gameknight moaned. “They’re all gone.”

  Carver stood up, then lifted the User-that-is-not-a-user off the ground and carried him to the back of the cavern.

  “They were just there,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said as tears began to tumble from his eyes, “and now they’re gone. They waited to hold off the ghasts so we could get through the waterfall, and now they’re gone forever.”

  Gameknight stood and turned toward the villagers that were huddled at the back of the cave. He could hear cries of grief as mothers and wives realized their loved ones would never return. Villagers in pain moaned as others tended to their wounds and gave them food. It looked as if half the villagers that had followed Gameknight999 into the savanna were gone … destroyed by the ghasts in fiery explosions. The stone chamber was consumed with sorrow and grief.

  “What have I done?” Gameknight moaned, as guilt over all their despair slammed into him like a sledgehammer.

  Wilbur came forward and rubbed himself against Gameknight’s leg, then looked up at him. The Oracle then stepped forward, encircled by her light-crafters.

  “You did what you had to do, child,” she said. “You turned a hopeless situation around and gave everyone a chance for survival. Without you, all of us would have been destroyed by the ghasts. If you hadn’t known about the waterfall and the fact that this cave was here, then we’d all likely be dead.”

  “She’s right,” Baker added, tears streaming down her flat cheeks. “I lost many good friends today, but I know it could have been worse.”

  “But if I’d just left you alone and stayed away from your village, then your friends would still be here,” Gameknight replied in a weak voice.

  “True, but for how long?” Baker asked. “Sometimes in life, we don’t know in advance what the right thing to do is. Maybe go left, maybe go right, maybe go nowhere … it’s hard to tell. If I think about what’s best for my village and focus on what might go wrong, I become paralyzed and can’t make any decisions; I feel lost.”

  “What does that … have to do with any of this?” Gameknight asked.

  “Smithy, when you came to our village and asked for our help, I had that same moment of feeling lost,” she explained. “I didn’t know what to do: Should I follow you on this dangerous course, or should I hide in my trees and hope the storm just blows past us?”

  “So how did you choose?” Gameknight asked. “What made you decide to go with us?”

  “I did what I always do when I feel lost,” Baker said. “I just stopped, closed my eyes, and listened.”

  “Listened to what?” he asked.

  “I listened to Minecraft and I listened to myself,” she replied. “And you know what I heard?”

  By now, the cave had become completely quiet as all the villagers listened.

  “What?” Gameknight pleaded. He desperately needed something to give him hope again. “What did you hear?”

  “I heard music,” she said, a smile slowly growing on her square face as she remembered the moment. “I heard the music of Minecraft. It was the most soothing and beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Gameknight cast a glance at the Oracle, but she was staring intently at Baker.

  “But not only that, I heard myself think through the problem clearly, without worrying about what might happen if I made the wrong decision. I heard my true self, without any insecurities or fears or doubts. And my true self told me it’s always an honor to be given the opportunity to help another, even if it’s difficult or dangerous. Herobrine must be stopped, and if not now … when?”

  “Your friends, though, they’re gone … because of me,” Gameknight said.

  “No, my friends are gone because of those ghasts and because of Herobrine,” Baker growled. “Villagers help villagers. That’s the way it’s always been, even if it’s difficult or dangerous, and that’s the way it’s gonna be in the future.”

  She took a step forward, standing next to Carver and stared at Gameknight999, determination etched onto her square face.

  “Smithy, you asked yourself, ‘What have I done?’” Baker said. “Well, you turned certain death into a chance for life for everyone in this chamber.”

  Carver nodded in agreement.

  “Oink!” Wilbur added.

  Baker reached down and petted the pink animal on his head.

  “You seem to know the most about this Herobrine character,” Baker said. “You’re gonna figure out our next move, because we sure aren’t gonna sit around in this cave feeling sorry for ourselves. We need to take decisive action. Herobrine and the ghasts probably think we’ve been almost completely destroyed. Maybe he even thinks you’re dead. That means we now have the advantage of surprise.”

  “I don’t know,” Gameknight moaned. “I can’t be responsible for more deaths.”

  “You aren’t …” Baker said. “Here, let me make it easy for you. Everyone who is willing to follow Smithy and continue the fight, step up.”

  At first, no one moved. Gameknight’s head began to droop a little as hopelessness set in. Then Carver moved to Gameknight’s side, followed by Baker. The Oracle shuffled across the stone floor, followed by her light-crafters. They stood close around Gameknight999, Treebrin’s rough, bark-like skin scratching his leather armor. The User-that-is-not-a-user smiled at those around him and was about to say something when everyone huddling in the darkness came forward, each tear-stained face trying to stand tall and be close to Smithy of the Two-swords.

  All of the villagers reached out and tried to touch him, creating a massive collective group-hug as the NPCs began to weep again. But this time, the tears of despair were mixed with tears of hope.

  “Our loved ones did not die in vain,” one of the villagers said.

  “The fight isn’t over,” another growled.

  “We aren’t gonna give up,” someone demanded.

  “Smithy can find a way.”

  “Herobrine will be stopped!”

  More comments echoed off the stone walls of the cave as the villagers put their inner thoughts to voice. And this gave Gameknight999 something he hadn’t had for what seemed like an eternity: hope.

  If these people believe in our cause this much … and believe in me, then maybe we can do this after all, if we do it together, Gameknight thought.

  That is the wisest thing you’ve thought in a long time, child, a scratchy voice said in his mind.

  Gameknight smiled.

  “We sort of look like a massive mountain of villagers all grouped together like this,” Weaver said near the outside of the group. “I feel like we could almost reach up and touch the clouds.”

  “Yeah!” the others said, their sadness now replaced with hope and determination.

  “Mountain … clouds,” Gameknight said.

  “What is it?” Carver asked.

  But the User-that-is-not-a-user did not reply. He could feel the puzzle pieces tumbling around in his head. There was a solution here, he just needed to set aside his doubts and fears, and rely on those around him.

  And then the first puzzle piece fell into place. It was a mountain, a massive mountain, the tallest in Minecraft. He knew exactly where it was, for he’d been there before. They had to go there and figure out what was happening with these ghasts. After they gathered some information, then they could devise a plan, but first they needed to understand the mystery of the ghasts. And to do that, they had to go to Olympus Mons.

  CHAPTER 18

  DISAPPOINTMENT

  As the sun rose in the east, painting the sky with splashes of orange and crimson, Malacoda slowly floated away from Herobrin
e’s army, and moved toward the distant waterfalls. One of his ghasts was arriving to report on the situation, and he wanted to hear the news far from Herobrine’s ears.

  A cat-like cry floated out of the sky. He glanced upward and saw ghasts moving overhead, dragging their tentacles through the shimmering clouds as they replenished their HP. The sparkling clouds, with the faintest touch of orange, drifted overhead as glowing embers danced along their misty edges. The mountain at Dragon’s Teeth was continually generating new infected clouds, which were spreading out all across the Overworld, corrupting all they touched, and extending Herobrine’s power across Minecraft.

  I’d much rather be up there in the clouds, the monster thought to himself. But he first had to learn what had happened with the blacksmith.

  The commander from the waterfalls approached, the evil-tainted ghast giving off cat-like cries and wails that made him sound nervous as he drew near. Malacoda had ordered the ghast to report at sunrise and tell him what had happened with the foolish NPCs. The white ghast approached cautiously, as if it wanted to flee; this did not suggest the monster had good news to share.

  “Sire, you asked for an update at sunrise,” the ghast said in a baby-like voice.

  “What news do you have about the blacksmith?” Malacoda asked.

  “We believe our attacks have destroyed him,” the ghast said. “Ghasts moved up close to the waterfalls and bombarded them with our fireballs. Since that attack, we spread out around the falls and watched to make sure none emerged from tunnels and tried to escape. There has been no activity or movement since. I’m sure they are all destroyed.”

  “Did any try to escape?” Malacoda asked.

  “None,” the ghast replied tentatively.

  The fool! Malacoda thought. That likely means they have escaped. Herobrine will be furious.

  “This sounds like excellent news,” the ghast king lied. “I command you to report this to Herobrine.”

  The king of the ghasts saw a nervous expression flash across the pristine white face of the monster; he knew this was not a reward, but a punishment.

  Moving behind the monster, Malacoda pushed the monster downward, toward the collection of creatures that congregated on the savanna. The ghast floated hesitantly forward, the pressure of Malacoda’s tentacles on his back keeping him moving forward.