Battle with the Wither King Read online

  Finally, he was able to see light from between the thick trunks of the spruce trees; torches atop the fortified walls casting circles of yellow light upon the landscape. The laughter in his mind began to recede as the sounds of his village grew louder. Cook pots clanked on top of furnaces as the smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the forest. I bet that’s Baker’s bread, he though. Steak sizzled as mushroom stews bubbled, filling the air with delicious smells that drifted over the tall cobblestone wall and into the forest; it made his mouth water.

  How could some monster try to destroy all this, he thought. It’s my home.

  “Someone’s approaching,” a voice yelled from the top of the cobblestone wall.

  The sound of metal clanking against metal filled the air as the armored warriors formed up on the other side of the wall. Watcher could hear Carver shouting out orders to the soldiers, getting them ready for possible battle. He sounded strong and brave, as if there were not an ounce of fear in the big NPC’s voice.

  I wish I were like Carver, Watcher thought as he waited at the foot of the fortified wall. He’s strong and brave and not afraid of anything. All I am is weak and frightened of a wither’s laughter. The warriors named us correctly, the Insignificants . . . maybe they were right.

  He sighed.

  Suddenly, the gates to the village swung open and a stream of iron-coated villagers flowed out, weapons drawn and shields at the ready. They quickly surrounded Watcher, but when they recognized him, they turned and faced the forest, taking up a defensive formation in case any monsters stormed out of the darkness. Carver then strode out with just a sword in his hand, an angry scowl on his face.

  “What are you doing out here after dark, Insig,” the stocky NPC barked.

  “I found the wither king,” Watcher replied. “I knew I didn’t just imagine it. He was out there, watching our village and he . . .”

  “You know it’s dangerous going out into the forest after dark. There could have been monsters around. If they had snuck up on you, then me and my soldiers would have to come out there and rescue you.”

  “Monsters can’t sneak up on me, that’s absurd,” Watcher said, then cringed at the disrespectful tone to his statement.

  “Absurd, huh . . . You think you can just break the rules whenever it suits you.”

  “You don’t understand, Karkan is going to attack the village. We need to prepare before he . . .”

  “I keep hearing you talk about the legendary king of the withers, yet you still haven’t shown me any proof. Where is your evidence, Insig. Show me!”

  Watcher stepped back, suddenly afraid of Carver.

  “Well . . . I . . . uh . . .”

  “Show me!”

  Watcher reached into his inventory and pulled out the fern leaf. He pointed to the charred tip, but the whole thing had become crunched from being stuffed into his inventory. It was difficult to see anything unusual with the leaf.

  “What is this supposed to be?” the stocky NPC asked.

  The warriors looked at the leaf and laughed, some of them pulling up tufts of grass and handing them to Watcher as more evidence. The only one not laughing was Carver; he never laughed nor smiled. It was as if he might fall apart if a grin ever creased his face.

  “Well . . . uhhh . . . I followed a trail of charred plants until I made it into the jungle. Then I . . .”

  “You went into the jungle!” Carver exclaimed. “You know there are tons of creepers in there. They blend in with the plants and are impossible to see. You could have been blown up.”

  “There were ocelots all around me, so I knew there were no creepers nearby.”

  “You relied on a bunch of cats to protect you?” Carver asked.

  The rest of the warriors laughed.

  Here comes the humiliation part, Watcher thought.

  “A bunch of wild kitty cats aren’t gonna protect you from a deadly creeper. You Insigs know nothing. Get back inside so we can close up the village for the night.”

  “But creepers are afraid of ocelots. They do keep them away,” Watcher said in a weak voice, but he knew he’d already lost the argument, even if he were right; Carver and the other warriors never bother listen to someone like him.

  Maybe he is right, maybe we’re just Insigs, Watcher thought.

  As he walked into the village, Watcher saw NPCs staring at him, some of them pointing and laughing while the others were whispering to each other, shaking their boxy heads.

  “But the wither king . . . he’s out there,” Watcher pleaded, “and he’s gonna attack our village soon. We must get prepared or . . .”

  “Or what?!” Carver snapped as he stepped into the village and closed the gates behind him. “Or we’re gonna be destroyed? Or they’re gonna take over everything? Or? Or? Or? I’m tired of hearing you rant about your imaginary villains.”

  Watcher thought about mentioning the gold, but he knew Carver would never listen. The stocky warrior was right. Watcher and his friends were just Insignificants and nothing they said or did was important to anyone else. He might as well be invisible, which was how he felt.

  Suddenly, that terrible, hollow laughter floated out of the forest. It was faint and hard to hear, but his keen hearing was able to catch it. Watcher’s blood ran cold as icicles of fear stabbed at him from all sides.

  “He’s here,” Watcher moaned.

  “What are you talking about, Insig!” Carver snapped.

  “Karkan, he’s here, and he’s going to destroy the village.”

  He heard the evil laugh again, this time a little louder. Watcher wanted to dig a hole and climb inside as terror overwhelmed his senses. Some of the other villagers heard it this time and looked confused.

  “Are you insane,” Carver growled. “Now you think this imaginary wither king is here and is going to attack our village.”

  Some of the other warriors laughed at Watcher, mocking him with hurtful comments but Carver remained stoic, a stern look always on his square face.

  Suddenly, the king of the withers shouted a deep throaty roar that echoed as if it were made from within a bottomless pit. All of the villagers grew quiet as they stared at the front gates of the village, the forest beyond the cobblestone walls now looking sinister and evil.

  “This village is sitting on land that I want,” a voice bellowed from within the forest. “And when I want something, I take it.”

  Slowly, Karkan moved out from behind the bushy top of a spruce, his three heads glaring down at the villagers with a venomous hatred. A malicious smile grew across each skull as if the wither king knew some kind of evil secret. Then with a laugh, he launched his flaming skulls down at the village, screams of terror from the NPCs filling the air.

  Chapter 6 – Attack

  Karkan laughed as his flying skulls streaked down at the fortified walls, dark flames surrounding each like a deadly halo. They smashed into the cobblestone walls and just tore gaping holes in the fortification. More fell down upon the NPCs, striking those atop the ramparts, rending HP (health points) from the villagers’ bodies.

  Shouts of panic and pain filled the air as villagers scrambled for cover. Many dove through doorways to get inside, but the wooden walls of their homes did not protect them. His flaming skulls carved through the houses and found the NPCs that hid within, causing many to scream in terror as they were stuck by his aerial assault.

  “This is what happens when you don’t give me what I demand!” Karkan shouted.

  A villager was running across the top of the wall with sword and shield in his hand.

  “Look, the fool is trying to attack us,” Left said. “I want to destroy him, but slowly.”

  “We cannot treat this as a game,” Right snapped. “All of us, attack.”

  Left and Right fired their skulls at the NPC, followed by Middle’s dark blue flaming skull. The first two hit the villager, then the blue skull struck the doomed soul. Instantly, the NPC looked confused as the wither effect took him over, making it impossible t
o tell how much health he still had.

  “Left, Right, hit him again!” Middle ordered.

  Left and Right fired another volley at the villager. Because of the wither effect, the idiotic fool didn’t know his health was almost consumed. The next two flaming skulls took the rest of his health, causing his armor and weapons to fall to the ground, his body disappearing with a pop.

  “Ha ha ha,” Left laughed.

  “Be quiet!” Middle snapped.

  Some of the warriors were assembling near the gate. They were wrapped in iron armor and each held a sword and shield. The trio of heads fired their flaming skulls at the wall, tearing a gigantic gash through the defenses. They fired again, causing the warriors to scatter like silverfish in the sunlight.

  “Ha ha,” Right chuckled quietly.

  Middle glared at Right, silencing him. He then turned his head toward the village below.

  “Villagers, this is my land, and I want it. You have two days to leave this village. When I return, my wither army and I will level this place to the ground, leaving behind only a smoking crater. We will then take what is ours, which is EVERYTHING!”

  Before the villagers could form a response, Karkan headed back toward the jungle and his sacred temple.

  “Why do you give them two days?” Left asked. “We could have destroyed them now.”

  “Didn’t you see the one with an enchanted bow?” Middle asked.

  Left and Right both shook their dark heads.

  “If they have archers with magical weapons, then they could be stronger than we realize,” Middle explained. “We will let them stew in their fear and think about what we could do to them. I’m sure in two days, they will be gone and we can just take the gold that lies under their homes.”

  “But what if they haven’t left in two days?” Left asked.

  “Then you can do that which you do best . . . destroy.”

  Left gave a hoarse, chocking sort of laugh that eventually spread to Right and Middle until all three dark skulls were chuckling with evil glee.

  Chapter 7 – Signifs

  The village was covered with debris, pieces of the village wall here, chunks of a roof there. Buildings were destroyed and families were left homeless. But worse still were the items that were strewn about the village, each marking where an NPC had perished, their inventory items being the only evidence they had ever existed.

  Grief-stricken villagers wailed in despair as they mourned the loss of family members. Mothers cradled a shovel or hoe in their arms as they wept, fathers and brothers boiled with anger and heartache.

  The sound of all that misery and despair made Watcher openly weep. He didn’t feel strong enough to hold back the tears . . . or maybe it took more strength to show the emotions, he wasn’t sure. All he knew for sure was he’d never felt such overwhelming sadness in his life.

  “My friend, Baker . . . she was standing right there,” Watcher moaned as he stared at loaves of bread that floated off the ground nearby.

  She had been the same age as Watcher, and always secretly gave him and the other Insigs fresh bread when it came out of the furnaces. Now, bread would never taste the same again. The lanky boy moved to the brown loaves and allowed them to flow into his inventory, then sat on a block of stone and just stared at his surroundings, his body numb.

  Carver stormed through the courtyard of the village, fuming mad. He yelled at the gaping holes in the walls and the torn up buildings, his sword in his hand. Watcher could tell he wanted to hit something and vent his rage somehow, but there was no enemy here to attack, just sorrow and grief.

  Suddenly, the faintest of high-pitched cries reached Watcher’s ears. It was not the weeping sobs of an adult; this was the cry of an infant in pain. He looked at the building behind him. The flaming skulls had smashed right through the walls and destroyed Baker’s whole family; her mother and father and younger sister hadn’t stood a chance. They were just erased from the face of Minecraft, only a few tools and some childish toys remained. Their daughter, Hunter, she wasn’t even a year old and now that little girl was . . . suddenly another high-pitched cry reached his sensitive ears.

  He stood and moved into the destroyed home, pushing aside pieces of the shattered walls.

  “What are you doing in there?” Carver demanded. “Leave their stuff alone. This is not time to divide up their belongings.”

  “Be quiet!” Watcher snapped. “I hear crying.”

  Watcher moved further inside their house and listened. Another muffled sob tricked its way through the debris. Watcher carefully pushed aside parts of a broken table and pieces of shattered furnaces.

  “Insig, now is not the time to clear out their home. Don’t you have any respect?” the big NPC barked.

  Watcher held out a hand, silencing Carver. Some of the warriors gasped in shock.

  “How dare you!”

  “Shhhh!” Watcher insisted.

  He got onto his hands and knees and pushed through the shattered home, listening. Another sob . . . it was getting weaker. Watcher lifted blocks of wood from the wall and threw them frantically aside, some of them flying into those behind, but Watcher didn’t care. And then, after hefting a wooden chair aside, he found a hole in the ground that had likely been put there by one of the flaming skulls. At the bottom of the hole lay Hunter, her skin almost as pale as a skeleton. Quickly, Watcher pulled out a shovel and dug up the sides of the hole so he could climb down to the girl.

  “I’m sick and tired of this, Insig,” Carver boomed. “Get out of there, or I’m coming in after you!”

  Carver’s voice sounded as if it were a million miles away.

  Watcher lifted girl into his arms, then pulled an apple out of his inventory and gave it to the innocent child. She took it into her small hands and devoured it. Instantly, color began to come back into her face. He gave her a piece of bread, her sister’s bread. Hunter gnawed on it until it was gone; her HP was slowly rejuvenating.

  Carefully, Watcher climbed out of the hole and moved through the rubble.

  “That’s it, Watcher!” Carver boomed. “I’m coming in there to . . .”

  Instantly, he grew quiet when he saw the little girl in the skinny boy’s arms.

  “I would have found her sooner if you had stopped screaming,” Watcher said quietly to the stocky warrior. He raised his voice for all to hear. “She’s OK everyone, but . . .” Tiny square tears began to tumble down his cheeks. “But no one else survived in the house.”

  Carver looked down at the little girl, then drew his gaze to Insig. Watcher thought the impossible was about to happen; Carver was going to apologize. But before the warrior could say something, Watcher spoke.

  “I told you Karkan was out there, but you wouldn’t listen,” Watcher growled. “Now that monster has hurt our friends. Hunter must grow up without parents because the king of the withers wants to take our land.”

  Carver lowered his gaze to the ground. Watcher could tell the big NPC felt responsibility for this tragedy and expected a public reprimand from the lanky boy. But instead, Watcher handed the young girl off to another villager, then faced Carver, defiance etched into his square face.

  “You think we should leave the village?” the big NPC asked in a soft, uncertain voice.

  Watcher took another step closer until he was toe-to-toe with the stocky villager. Some of the other warriors gasped. No one stood that close to Carver and stayed on their feet. Slowly, the warrior raised his head and peered into Watcher’s brown eyes.

  “Once you run from a bully, you never stop,” Watcher said. “Instead of just running away, we need to change the situation. He wants something here in our village. We just need to figure out what it is.” He knew what the monster craved, but Watcher didn’t want to say anything to Carver, not yet. “Once we know that, then we have the power, and that bully, Karkan, will be at our mercy.”

  Carver stood a little taller as Watcher’s words buoyed his courage.

  “We must refuse the role Kark
an as put us in . . . the victim.” Watcher said, his voice growing louder.

  He glanced at the other Insigs that stood near the village’s well and saw the same recognition in their eyes. All of them knew what it was like to be told they were the victim and agree to their role. They had accepted it all this time because they figured it was the natural order of things, and they lacked the self-esteem to think better of themselves. But there was nothing natural about what the wither king had done, or was going to do.

  The Insigs all stepped forward and stood at Watcher’s side, glaring up at Carver.

  “We n-n-n-need to gather s-s-s-some information,” Saddler said.

  “And one thing we’re good at is moving about unseen,” Harvester said in his small high-pitched voice. “We’ll find out what the withers want, and then take it from them.”

  “That’s right!” Weaver added as she shifted weight off her short leg.

  “What do you think?” Watcher asked Carver.

  The big NPC paced back and forth. He glanced at Watcher, then cast his gaze at the other Insigs. Suddenly, little Hunter cried out. She was being passed from one adult to another and had awakened briefly. Carver glanced at the little girl as she nestled in the arms of a new protector, then drifted back off to sleep.

  “OK, we’ll go out there and figure out what this wither king wants from us,” Carver said.

  The Insigs cheered.

  “But we’re doing this my way, you got that?”

  The small, skinny villagers nodded their heads, eager to prove themselves. Watcher stayed perfectly still.

  “I give the orders and you do what I say, no matter what,” Carver said. “That’s the only way I’ll allow all of you out of the village.”

  “Well, to be honest, with the holes in the wall, it’ll be pretty hard keeping anyone in the village,” Watcher said.