by Mark Mulle
The Legend of the Snow Dragon, Book 1: Lost Memories
Copyright 2016 Mark Mulle
Author’s Note
This short story is for your reading pleasure. The characters in this "Minecraft Adventure Series" such as Steve, Endermen or Herobrine...etc are based on the Minecraft Game coming from Minecraft ®/TM & © 2009-2013 Mojang / Notch
Table of Contents
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
About the Author
Other books by this Author
Day 1
I’m not sure how to exactly start this. How does someone start a journal when they remember nothing about themselves or where they are? Does that sound crazy? I think it does.
Maybe I should start at the beginning. Back when I woke up. Then I can go through what I do remember and maybe it will jog memories. That sounds good, right?
Okay. I woke up with a jolt a couple of hours ago. My vision was slightly blurry and my head was throbbing. The next thing I noticed was the fact I was freezing cold. I sat up, alarmed and looked around.
I was half buried in snow. In fact, it was still snowing. My legs were buried and half of my right arm was covered up as well. I pulled my arm free and managed to get my legs out of the blanket of snow that had formed. For some reason, it felt as if it took a long time to get my legs out from some snow.
When I managed to free myself from the snow prison that had formed around me when I had been sleeping, I looked around. Nothing about my surroundings rang any bells at all. I tried to remember how I had ended up in a snow bank but my head felt dizzy and my limbs heavy. Maybe that was why it was so hard to get out of the snow.
I got to my feet. That was a mistake. Instantly, everything around me started moving and tilting. I took a step forward but whatever was affecting me was too much. I pitched forward and landed face first in the snow.
As I laid there in the snow, I tried to backtrack in my head. How had I ended up in the snow? Why was I so weak? What was I forgetting?
Yet my brain was just a big blank patch. The only thing I could recall was a name – Ziggy. Was that my name? I supposed so. There was nothing else for me to go off of. It must be mine.
I managed to get my face out of the snow and sat upright. I was freezing cold. My teeth were chattering so hard it felt like my jaw was going to snap from the force of it. Everything around me was snow. Even the trees were coated in it. I could barely see the green underneath. The snow came down heavily. If I sat here too long, I was going to be buried in it. I needed to move on.
I made myself get to my feet again and try to walk. Even though I was dizzy, I still forced myself to go forward. Surely, something would pop up. I would see someone I knew. Or a memory would come back to me. I was trying very hard not to panic. But I have to admit that the panic was winning.
Suddenly, I stumbled over something. Once again, I landed face down into the snow. Okay, I was growing sick of this. I rolled over. My foot was caught in something. I pulled on it hard and it broke free. I sat up and looked to see what I had tripped over.
A bag was buried in the snow. I had gotten caught on the strap and tripped. I pulled the bag towards me. Excitement hummed through me. Maybe this would clear everything up!
Quickly, I opened up the bag and peered inside. There were a few different items. A pickaxe. A bow and some arrows shoved inside awkwardly. There was a journal in there as well. Eagerly, I grabbed it and opened it.
But it was empty. My heart fell. I had so been hoping there was going to be something inside of here! But the journal was blank.
Panic was taking over by this point. I got to my feet and slung the bag over my back and took off. There were no signs I was going in the right direction. I could be going backwards from where I was supposed to be going.
I was still feeling sick and light headed as I walked. My stomach grumbled loudly at one point. I walked over a hill and saw something down below – a cave. I quickly picked up speed and headed towards it.
I almost tripped from walking too fast but managed to stay upright. The mouth of the cave offered protection from the snow. I was eager to get to it and get some rest. I hesitated briefly at the mouth of the cave. What if there was something inside of here?
But my eyes fell on something. There were burnt sticks in one corner. A fire. Someone had lit a fire here and stayed here. Had it been me? There was an old broken rusty sword tossed in one corner as well. Whoever had been here was long gone. If something had been here in the cave, whoever stayed here – myself or someone else – wouldn’t have had time to light a fire.
I sat around the burnt sticks and wondered if I could get a fire of my own going. But the sticks were burnt and refused to light again. I looked in my bag for more sticks but there was nothing but junk in the bag.
That was when I took the journal out again. I decided I’d start writing in here. What if I lost my memory again? At least I would have something to read to catch me up on what was going on. Which, so far, wasn’t much. I’ve tripped a lot in the snow and managed to find a cave I was probably at already.
So all I can say is…I think my name is Ziggy. And that I have no idea where I am, how I got here, or where I am supposed to go.
Day 2
Night was uncomfortable. Even though I had a thick coat to sleep in, the floor of the cave was freezing. I had no fire to warm myself up. I was paranoid of creatures coming out of the darkness to attack me. Halfway through the night, I moved farther down into the cave because I was worried about creatures.
By the time the sun came up, I was tired and sore. Not to mention I was so hungry that I was feeling weak. I definitely needed to find food. I rummaged through the pockets of my bag. I hadn’t checked them yesterday.
I found some old pork chops in a little baggy in one pocket. As I sat there, munching on them, grateful to have found something to eat, I tried to figure out my next move.
I had no memory of why I was here. Someone had definitely been here in this cave before. It was safe to assume it had been me back when I had my memory. So I needed to go back to where I had woken up and keep cutting across the snow bank. Wherever I was trying to go surely had to be in that direction, right?
I’m trying very hard not to completely lose my head in this situation. But how can I not? I’m literally sitting in a cave, hunched over a journal, scribbling in it like I know what I am going to do next. But really, it is all just a guess. I could leave the cave and end up in serious trouble.
What if I live in this cave? Maybe this cave is my home. I’m freaking out about needing to go somewhere but what if I’m already there?
But even if I think about that, I know it has to be wrong. The cave showed no signs of anyone living here. It looked like someone just stayed here for a night or two. There is no way that I lived here. I’m just thinking crazy thoughts.
So, I’m going to leave the cave now and cut across the snow. I’ll try to go to where I woke up and see if I can figure out my next move.