Last Stand on the Ocean Shore Page 7

  Stonecutter stopped to sniffle and wipe more tears away from his eyes.

  “Woodcutter told me the ghast went down into the crafting chamber, then after a few minutes came out with someone trapped within its tentacles.”

  “Malacoda,” Gameknight hissed, his voice filled with anger.

  Crafter placed a hand on his shoulder to calm the User-that-is-not-a-user.

  “He cannot hurt NPCs anymore,” Crafter said, trying to ease the User-that-is-not-a-user’s rage.

  Gameknight nodded and relaxed a little, then stopped to readjust Filler on his shoulders.

  “That was the ghast’s name … Malacoda?” Stonecutter asked.

  Gameknight nodded as he continued to walk.

  “He isn’t around anymore,” Gameknight said.

  “You took care of him?” Stonecutter asked.

  Gameknight shook his head. “Someone else ended his miserable life.”

  “Good,” Stonecutter said, then breathed a deep sigh and continued. “Woodcutter said he tried to get up and stop the ghast, but he didn’t have the strength to stand, so he just sat there and watched as they sent creepers down into the crafting chamber. My family was down there. My wife, Baker, would have grabbed our son, Weaver, and gone down to the crafting chamber as soon as she heard the first creeper. She probably took as many kids with her as she could. That was always the plan if there was danger.

  “Weaver … he was your age, Topper. He was the greatest son a father could ever want. His little hands could weave incredible designs into carpets … better than anyone else in the village. Whenever he finished a new one, he would bring it to me so that I would be the first to see his newest creation. Each one was better than the last, and it was my greatest joy in life so see his face light up when he was showing his work. That morning, before heading to the temple, he showed me his newest carpet. It showed my wall around the edge of the rug, and then, somehow, he’d woven pictures of himself, his mother, and me into the fabric. It represented my wall protecting all of us … what a joke!”

  He paused to wipe another tear from his square cheek.

  “I’ll never get a chance to see that look in Weaver’s eyes ever again.”

  He grew silent for a moment, and Gameknight could tell from the look in his eyes that Stonecutter was likely reliving some wonderful memory of his family. But then the bright light in his stone-gray eyes dimmed and his face was again covered with sadness.

  “Woodcutter said that he could hear the explosions underground, and knew that they were destroying all the survivors. My wife and son, Woodcutter’s family … everyone’s family perished in that underground tomb. And it was all because of me!

  “I left Woodcutter for a moment to search our home … maybe Weaver or Baker was there, hiding. But the only thing that I found was …”

  He paused for a moment to regain control of his emotions.

  “What was it?” Topper asked. “What did you find?”

  “It was the most ironic thing of all,” Stonecutter said. “I found Weaver’s last rug. It was in perfect condition, as if nothing had ever happened. The image of my wall in the fabric looked impeccable and unflawed, and our happy faces ringed within the barricade looked safe and content. I sat there with the rug in my hands and wept for I don’t know how long. And when all the tears were gone and my emotions were wrung out, I knew that I couldn’t bear to look at that rug ever again, so I buried it there among the ashes of our home.”

  He grew silent again.

  “Stonecutter, this isn’t your fault,” Crafter said. “We can only be responsible for today. Our decisions and actions have ramifications for tomorrow, but we can’t know for sure what those ramifications will be. All we can do is our best each day, work our hardest, and make the best decisions we can make. You made the best wall you could make … that was your job. Perhaps the fault lies with your crafter.”

  “Our crafter was the best!” the stocky NPC snapped.

  “I’m sure he was,” Crafter answered, “but he was responsible for your community as well. And your blacksmith, he was responsible for making weapons to protect your village … does he not share some of the responsibility?”

  “Well … I guess …”

  “In a community, everyone is responsible for the health and safety of everyone,” Crafter explained. “No single individual carries the weight for all. Everybody does their share … that’s what it means to be part of a community.”

  Crafter glanced at Gameknight999. They made eye contact for a brief second, then the User-that-is-not-a-user looked away.

  “So, how did you end up in our village?” Topper asked from Stonecutter’s shoulders.

  “I heard Crafter’s call for the defense of Minecraft, so I came … and I fought.” He turned and faced Gameknight999, his stone-gray eyes now streaked with red from crying. “I followed you to the Nether and then to the Source. I fought by your side on the steps to the Source and watched your back during that terrible battle. While you fought Erebus in the Land of Dreams, I kept the zombies and skeletons from reaching your sleeping bodies.”

  He pointed to a long, jagged scar along his arm.

  “I got this from a wither skeleton that was trying to get to you and your friends,” Stonecutter said. “But I stopped him with my pickaxe.”

  Gameknight reached out and touched the long scar with his blocky fingers, and realized how painful it must have been. He looked up into the gray eyes and was about to speak, but Stonecutter interrupted him before he could start.

  “I vowed that day, when Woodcutter finally died, that I will never forsake my responsibility to protect Minecraft and everyone on the servers. And the best way I could do that is to protect the User-that-is-not-a-user, even if it means sacrificing myself for him.”

  “Stonecutter, I won’t allow that,” Gameknight said sternly.

  “You have no say in the matter,” the stocky NPC snapped. “This is my debt to repay for causing the deaths of everyone in my village … Baker and Weaver.” He paused for a moment to take a deep breath to stop more tears from flowing, then continued. “I will never stop watching your back, or being at your side to lend my pickaxe to your sword, even if it means my very destruction. It will be, and that’s the end of it.”

  Gameknight was about to object, but Crafter placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

  “This is Stonecutter’s responsibility to bear, and we must respect that,” the wise NPC said.

  Gameknight looked into Crafter’s bright blue eyes and wanted to complain, but he could tell that it would do no good. Glancing up at Stonecutter, he could see the look of absolute conviction in his eyes and realized that resistance was futile. Reaching up, Gameknight placed a hand on Stonecutter’s big shoulder and patted him affectionately, then turned and faced the village that was just over the next dune. He thought that maybe having Stonecutter there to cover his back would be reassuring, but all it did was make him responsible for another life.

  I can’t take all this responsibility, he thought. I don’t want to be a hero … I just want to be a kid.

  Then an ancient voice filled his mind, echoing through the music of Minecraft as if were coming to him from very far away.

  Those who have the ability to help others are obligated to do so, no matter how difficult it may be, the Oracle said.

  But I didn’t ask for this, he complained, and you know that, Oracle. I don’t know if I can do all this.

  You can accomplish only what you can imagine, the Oracle replied.

  But how do I imagine being brave, or imagine not being afraid to fail … how do I do that?

  But the Oracle was gone, the music of Minecraft having gone silent for the moment. Glancing around, Gameknight noticed that all eyes were focused on him.

  “You OK?” Crafter asked.

  The User-that-is-not-a-user nodded.

  “You had a serious look on your face all of a sudden,” Crafter said. “What’s going on?”

  “I was talking
with the Oracle,” Gameknight said, as if it were something that he did every day.

  “What?” Hunter asked.

  “I can hear her in my mind,” he replied. “We talked last night in the Land of Dreams.”

  “Did she tell you what’s been happening with Herobrine?” Crafter asked.

  Gameknight nodded.

  “He destroyed the jungle temple and all the wolves … don’t anyone tell Herder.” Gameknight looked at his friends to make sure they would comply, then continued. “He sort of killed her. I mean, he destroyed her body, but she isn’t dead. The Oracle is part of the music of Minecraft and is watching over us.”

  “So you mean she’s OK?” Crafter asked.

  Gameknight nodded. “But she told me where we need to go, so that I can figure out how to work this weapon.”

  “Are you going to share … or keep this to yourself?” Hunter asked.

  Gameknight looked at Hunter and smiled, causing her impatience to build, then explained.

  “We have to find an Ocean Monument. In that Monument, we’ll find the Book of Wisdom. This book will tell me how to use the weapon, but it’s guarded by one of Herobrine’s creations.”

  “Of course it is,” Hunter said with a sarcastic tone.

  “Well, at least we know where we need to go,” Crafter said. “Let’s hurry up and get to the village so that we can start our search.”

  The User-that-is-not-a-user nodded, then shifted from walking to running, holding onto Filler’s legs tightly. As he ran, Gameknight thought about the Elder Guardian from his dream, those long, razor-sharp spines waiting for him. Somehow, Gameknight999 could feel those spines getting closer and closer … and he was sure that when they were close enough … they would strike.

  CHAPTER 10

  DESERT VILLAGE

  The NPCs ran down the sand dune toward the desert village, their voices raised high in celebration. Villagers from the desert community came out to greet the visitors, many of them with pails of water and loaves of bread for the newcomers.

  As Gameknight crested the dune, he saw that the village looked like every other one he’d ever seen, with the exception that everything was constructed out of sandstone. The pale yellow walls of the homes and buildings merged into the sandy background of the desert, making the entire community blend into the landscape … all expect for the crops. They were planted in dark brown soil, a cool strip of blue water flowing between lush green beds of wheat. Green cacti stood as silent sentinels on the outskirts of the community, bright against the pale background. As with the fields of crops, the cacti seemed even greener than normal against the sandy backdrop, their prickly spines reaching out to anyone who dared come too close.

  The smell of lush, fertile soil greeted Gameknight’s nose as he moved into the village, the crops driving the dusty, dry smell of the desert from his nostrils. He smiled as he pulled in the aroma … it was wonderful.

  High overhead, Gameknight could see the watchtower that loomed above the village. It was made of the same sandstone as all the buildings; stone was a difficult thing to get in the desert. Watchers, NPCs with the best eyesight, stood atop the watchtower, their keen eyes always scanning the surroundings for monsters; that was good. It always paid to be careful in Minecraft.

  As he approached the field of crops, Gameknight realized how dry his mouth had become. Since the telling of Stonecutter’s story, he’d been lost in thought and had forgotten to drink. Reaching into his inventory, Gameknight could see that he didn’t have any water. He carefully pulled Filler to the ground, then knelt down. Brushing his hands clean on his pants, Gameknight dipped his hands into the flowing water that moved between the two fields and cupped them together. Bringing his hands to his mouth, he let the water spill over his face; some managed to make it past his lips, but much of the liquid spilled down his shirt, cooling him for a brief instant. It felt good. Reaching in for another handful, he brought it to his face again, but at the last second threw it on Filler. She laughed as her long sandy-blond hair caught most of the water, rivulets of cool moisture running down her square face.

  Feeling rejuvenated by the cool drink, the User-that-is-not-a-user stood and surveyed the area. The village was spread out over a large area; a few sand dunes surrounded the community but were not tall enough to be used for defense. The village was completely exposed on all sides; how were the NPCs going to defend the settlement if monsters came?

  Suddenly, a flicker of motion caught Gameknight’s attention off to the right. Turning his head, he thought he saw something peeking over a large sand dune that was far from the village. It looked like some kind of creature, maybe an NPC or a user, but it looked strange. It had red across its chest, and its arms were covered with blue and white stripes. The colored creature stood out in stark contrast to the pale, sandy surroundings, but it disappeared behind the dune just as quickly as it had appeared.

  Was it really there, or was I just seeing things? Could it have been another … no, that’s crazy. Why would they be following us?

  Looking up at the sun, Gameknight could see that they still had a few hours until nightfall … they had to work fast.

  “Digger, let’s get some defenses set up,” Gameknight said as he stepped forward and took Topper from Stonecutter’s shoulders. “Filler, Topper, I need you two to go up to the watchtower and help the watcher. Stay there until I tell you to come down … you got it?”

  The twins nodded their heads excitedly, then took off running. Gameknight smiled at Stonecutter, then glanced around, looking for Hunter.

  “You looking for me?” said a voice from behind.

  He spun and found Hunter, her bow in her hand. The sun was positioned directly behind her, making her red hair light up like a scarlet halo.

  “Yes,” Gameknight answered. “I need you to set up some defenses. We’re totally exposed on all sides, so we need to be able to defend everywhere around the perimeter of the village until we know where the attack is coming from. Get people building archer towers, then lay some traps out there in the sand.”

  “I’m on it,” Hunter replied as she turned and started gathering NPCs.

  Looking about the village, Gameknight999 could see that the inhabitants of this village looked confused.

  They probably feel like they are being taken over by us, he thought. We need to explain things to them.

  “Where’s Crafter?” he yelled.

  “Here,” came a voice from the other side of the village.

  Sprinting toward the sound, he found Crafter talking to some of the village elders. The town’s blacksmith appeared to be angry, yelling at some of the other NPCs, gesturing wildly with his hands. But as Gameknight neared, the argument stopped abruptly.

  “What’s going on?” Gameknight asked.

  “I was explaining to these villagers that the User-that-is-not-a-user was here, and that you were going to take over for a while,” Crafter explained. “They didn’t completely believe me until …”

  Gameknight looked at the village elders. They were all staring above his head, their mouths hanging open in shock. He could tell that the NPCs saw the white letters of his name floating in the air above him, but some of them looked high up into the sky. Their eyes grew wide with astonishment as they noticed the absence of the server thread that a normal user would have.

  “Hey … look at me,” Gameknight said to the elders. “You need to get over this. Yes I’m the User-that-is-not-a-user so get used to it and get to work.”

  Just then, Monet113 walked up and stood next to her brother. The NPCs glanced at her name, their mouths agape as they saw her server thread missing as well.

  “Yeah … yeah, there are two of us. Get over it; we don’t have time for this,” Gameknight said.

  “Be nice,” Monet chided.

  Gameknight looked at her and shrugged, then turned back to the villagers.

  “We have to fortify this village in case an attack comes,” the User-that-is-not-a-user explained, “and it seem
s that there are always monsters attacking us, so we need to be prepared.”

  This brought the villagers back to their senses.

  “What is it you need?” the blacksmith asked.

  “You see that big NPC over there?” Gameknight said. “That’s Digger. He’s setting up the defenses, and he knows what he’s doing. Go help him. We need every NPC to be working and doing what he says.”

  “OK,” the elders replied, then set off toward Digger.

  “Crafter, you and I need to have a discussion with this village’s crafter.”

  “What about me?” Monet asked.

  “Come with us to the crafting chamber,” Gameknight said.

  “Yippee!” she squealed, clapping her hands together.

  Gameknight frowned at her, then headed for the watchtower, Crafter and Monet right on his heels. Using the secret tunnel, they moved through the underground passages until they reached the crafting chamber.

  When they entered the subterranean cavern, all activity instantly stopped, and all eyes swiveled toward the visitors. Not waiting to be invited, Gameknight streaked down the stone steps and headed directly for the village’s crafter. He was easy to spot in the crowd; his black smock with gray stripe was identical to Crafter’s.

  Without waiting for any questions, Gameknight explained the situation, describing the battles with Herobrine and Herobrine’s desire to destroy Minecraft. The villagers all knew of the legendary creature, but few actually believed his existed. But with the User-that-is-not-a-user standing before them, his sister at his side, they were all instantly convinced.

  “So, above us, everyone is building defenses in case Herobrine finds us tonight,” Gameknight explained. “What we need you to craft are minecarts … as many as you can make.”

  “And weapons,” Crafter added. “We need weapons for your own villagers.”

  “My villagers are not warriors. This is a peaceful community,” the villager crafter explained, a look of disgust on his face.

  “So was mine, until an army of monsters attacked,” Crafter answered. “Gameknight999 here taught us how to fight back, and you are part of this war, whether you like it or not.”