Confronting the Dragon

by Mark Cheverton

  As they moved across the sandy dunes, Gameknight could see a structure appear on the horizon. It was an elaborate stone structure that arced high up into the sky, disappearing into the boxy clouds, seemingly heading nowhere . . . and that was where they needed to go. And as he looked at the massive structure, Gameknight shuddered. What danger would be waiting for them on the other side of the Bridge to Nowhere?

  CHAPTER 15

  BRIDGE TO NOWHERE

  As the army moved across the hot desert sand they cautiously approached the foot of the Bridge to Nowhere. The bridge stretched high up into the sky, curving upward in a graceful arc and penetrating the clouds until the end was lost from sight. It was the biggest thing Gameknight had ever seen . . . well, except for Malacoda’s terrible fortress in the Nether. It was at least twenty blocks wide if not greater at the bottom, with a set of ornate steps that reached down to the desert floor. It curved upward making a graceful arc as it stretched over the rippling waters of the river that flowed through the desert biome. Great columns of stone brick stretched up from the sides of the curving bridge to support the lofty arched roof. Blue blocks of lapis and green emerald cubes decorated the brick pillars, the colors shining bright. Across the roof, Gameknight could see bright redstone blocks, but their color mixed with the stained sun made them look ominous and scary, as if they were blocks of blood.

  Gameknight shuddered.

  Leaping off his horse, he slowly climbed the steps that led up to the bridge, each step taken with trepidation. At the point where the stairs met the curving bridge, a wooden sign could be seen fixed to the first brick column. It was an item frame. Moving up close to it, Gameknight could see that it had a picture of a flower on it; a rose. But the rose lacked its deep red color. In fact, it appeared to have almost no color at all, as if the greens and reds had somehow been drained by the passage of time. Leaning closer to the frame, Gameknight noticed that the petals of the rose had a peculiar sheen to them, like they were polished and metallic.

  The Iron Rose; we found it!

  Reaching out, Gameknight brushed his hand across the Rose, trying to feel the metal flower. But instead of feeling hard metallic petals, he only felt air as his hand passed through the image.

  “Well, can you take it?” one of the NPCs asked behind him.

  Gameknight999 reached out again, and the same thing happened again. His hand passed through the flower as if it were made of air.

  “No,” Gameknight answered as he stepped back from the sign.

  One of the other NPCs stepped up and tried. The same thing happened; blocky fingers meeting air.

  “What does it mean?” someone asked.

  “It is just a sign,” Crafter said. “A marker to confirm that this is the correct path, but it is not the Iron Rose that we seek. We must follow the bridge. The Rose will be on the other side.”

  “But we don’t know where this bridge will lead,” Gameknight said, his voice shaking a bit.

  “It will lead to the Iron Rose,” Woodbrin said from behind the User-that-is-not-a-user.

  The light-crafter had the uncanny ability to sneak up right behind him without ever being seen or heard. It unnerved Gameknight a little.

  “All we know is that the Iron Rose will be on the other side,” Mason said confidently. “We have to get this key before the monsters can reach it.”

  He turned and faced the army that stood at the foot of the bridge. The massive collection of NPCs stretched out across the sandy desert they had just crossed. All of them looked up at Mason, confidence and trust showing in their eyes.

  “A small party of us will go across the bridge and bring back the Iron Rose,” Mason explained. “Those that remain, I want to you fortify this end of the bridge and prepare for the enemy, in case they dare to challenge us here.”

  He paused for a moment to consider his words, then continued.

  “He who is prudent and lies in wait for an enemy who is not, will be victorious,” Mason said as if reading some kind of famous quote.

  Gameknight glanced at Mason’s blocky form, and for an instant their eyes met. A guilty look seemed to flash across Mason’s face, as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, then the big NPC looked away.

  I remember that one, Gameknight thought. It was on Mr. Planck’s wall, next to the pencil sharpener. It was a saying from that Japanese general . . . what was his name . . . oh yeah—Sun Tzu. It’s from his book, The Art of War . . . how can he know these things?

  “Prepare overlapping fields of fire for the archers, and spaces for the cavalry to charge out to meet the enemy,” Mason continued, his eyes avoiding Gameknight’s. “Build obstacles to stand behind, walls and columns. Be sure to . . .”

  Gameknight mind drifted to the memory of that battle at Crafter’s village when he and Shawny had faced off with Erebus for the first time. It seemed to be a million years ago. They could certainly use Shawny’s tactical know-how right now . . . but then something his friend had said came back to him.

  ‘A flood is coming, my friends,’ Shawny had said. ‘We cannot stand rigid against this flood for it will wash us away. Instead, we will redirect the flow to where we need it and where we are prepared.’

  A flood is coming . . . redirect the flow . . . these words bounced around in his head, the pieces trying to find their place on the game board that now lay before him. And then he had it.

  “Redirect the flow and have a little surprise waiting for them,” Gameknight said aloud, then started to laugh.

  Mason stopped his instructions to the troops and turned toward Gameknight, a look of confusion on his face.

  “What?” the big NPC asked.

  Gameknight looked up into his square green eyes. Placing a hand on his shoulder he smiled.

  “I know what to do . . . something Shawny taught me back on Crafter’s server,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said.

  “Redirect the flow?” Mason asked, clearly confused.

  “That’s right . . . redirect the flow.”

  Moving back down the steps, Gameknight knelt and explained his plan, drawing formations in the sand. Blocky faces nodded as the warriors muttered to each other, seeing the wisdom in Gameknight’s plan.

  Mason nodded as Gameknight explained his plan, a wry smile stretching across his large boxy head.

  Once he’d finished, Mason stood and spoke with his powerful, commanding voice. “While you are building, some of you start mining. We need resources, and this is as good a place as any to start.” Mason then glanced at Woodbrin for a moment, lost in thought, then continued. “Light-crafters, you will go with us across the bridge, in case we need your help.”

  “We cannot help you there,” Woodbrin said, his voice creaking with tension, almost sounding like a board cracking with strain. “The light-crafters will stay here and help prepare for battle.”

  “Very well,” Mason replied. “We will retrieve the Rose while the rest of you hold this end of the bridge.” He then drew his sword and held it up high. “The monsters of Minecraft will have a painful surprise if they try to stop us here. FOR MINECRAFT!”

  “FOR MINECRAFT!” the warriors answered, their weapons now held high up in the air.

  But as the warriors cheered, Gameknight had the feeling that the monsters of Minecraft would challenge them here, and that there would be a great battle at the foot of this bridge. He could almost hear Erebus’s cackling as the monsters swarmed forward, smashing against their defenses with reckless abandon. Images of what might happen started to spin through Gameknight’s head, pushing aside his courage and causing him to shake with fear.

  Will my plan work, or will it lead us to ruin? What if Erebus figures out my plan and gets around our defenses? What if . . .

  But then something his father had once said started to echo faintly within his mind. And as the words grew louder, they pushed aside the imaginary failures and began to fill him with confidence.

  Don’t focus on what might happen, his father had said to
him. Let go of the what-ifs and focus on the now!

  The now . . . that’s right, the now . . . I’ll focus on the now and let the rest go.

  Pushing aside the events that hadn’t happened yet, he spun around and started climbing the gently rising bridge. Drawing his diamond sword, he pushed aside his fears and headed forward, toward the now.

  “You see, the User-that-is-not-a-user is already heading for the Iron Rose,” Mason shouted. “Nothing can stop us when we have Gameknight999 as the tip of our spear. His courage is an example to us all!”

  The soldiers cheered.

  Focus on the now.

  A clattering sound filled his ears as Crafter rode up next to him, his small hand holding the line to a horse.

  “Come on Gameknight, we ride,” Crafter said.

  Gameknight grabbed the reins and jumped up into the saddle. From this height, he thought he would be able to see over the curve of the bridge and see the opposite side, but it still arced up and away, the far end still a mystery.

  Mason rode up next to them, a collection of twenty horsemen at his back.

  “We’re ready,” Mason said in a firm voice. “Lead on, User-that-is-not-a-user. Lead us to the Iron Rose.”

  Before Gameknight could move, a hand grabbed his leg. Looking down, he found Stitcher looking up at him, Herder at her side.

  “You aren’t going anywhere without me,” she said in the characteristic stern voice. “My place is at your side,” she continued. “and until my sister comes back, it’s my job to keep you from doing something stupid. I have to keep you safe, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

  Gameknight frowned down at her, but she just scowled back.

  “You can leave me behind, but I will follow you,” she snapped.

  “Me too.” It was Herder.

  “Herder, your place is with the . . .” Gameknight said.

  “My place is with you!” Herder said in a stern voice, his two color eyes glaring up at Gameknight. “You said believe in myself . . . myself. Well, I do. I know that I can . . . I can help, and I’m going with . . . with you.”

  Reaching up, he swung up into the saddle behind Gameknight.

  Glancing to Crafter, Gameknight looked to his friend, hoping he would help.

  Crafter only nodded and smiled.

  “Come Stitcher,” Crafter said, “you can ride with me. I think Gameknight’s horse is kinda full.”

  The young girl laughed, then moved quickly to Crafter’s horse. She swung upward into the saddle, her red hair flowed like a crimson wave, then landed deftly in front of him, her bow out, an arrow notched.

  “Let’s go,” she said, then smiled at Gameknight.

  It was a smile of victory.

  CHAPTER 16

  BRIDGE TO SOMEWHERE

  They rode up the curving bridge for at least ten minutes. It had arched upward so high that the cool water of the river below was now completely out of sight. White blocky clouds started to drift across the tall pillars that supported the multicolored ceiling; the greens, reds, and blues getting muted by the floating mist.

  Gameknight could tell by the pattern of stepped blocks that they were almost at the top of the bridge’s arc; they would be heading down soon. But instead of finding the flat top of the bridge, he was shocked to find something else; a portal.

  A huge purple rectangle of light bisected the bridge. It covered the entire pathway, with the edges of the portal built into the brick pillars that held up the colorful ceiling. Gameknight could see small purple teleportation particles moving about the portal’s edge, floating out of the iridescent field then getting drawn back in.

  Moving up close, Gameknight dismounted and moved to the edge of the bridge. Holding onto one of the brick pillars, he leaned out over the edge of the rocky structure. He could just see around the edge of the portal, and found nothing but open air. They could have built a pathway around the portal and bypassed it, but there was no place to go. Their only choice was to go through the portal or go back.

  Grabbing his horse by the reins, Gameknight walked up to the portal, his horse pulling back a little.

  “It’s OK, boy,” Gameknight said to his horse, patting it lightly on the head.

  “Stroke him like this,” Herder advised as he gently petted the horse on the bridge of his nose.

  Gameknight did as instructed, and the horse seemed to calm down a little.

  “We must go through,” Mason said as he stepped off his horse.

  “Gameknight and I will see what is on the other side, then come back and report,” Crafter said as he stepped forward, the line to his horse firmly in one hand, his iron sword in the other.

  “Herder, Stitcher, I need you to stay here,” Gameknight said, his voice sounding almost as if he were pleading with them.

  Crafter looked at Stitcher and nodded to the young girl, agreeing with the User-that-is-not-a-user.

  “We may need to move fast, and it will be easier without extra passengers on the horses,” Gameknight said, this time a little more confidently.

  “OK, we’ll stay,” Stitcher said, “but not for long, so you better hurry up.”

  Crafter smiled at her, then turned and faced the portal. Moving up to the sparkling purple field, Crafter turned his head and looked directly at Gameknight999, then stepped through the portal with his horse in tow. He wavered for just an instant, then was gone.

  Gameknight could feel all eyes on him; the soldiers waiting for the User-that-is-not-a-user to join his friend. Gripping his horse’s lead firmly in his hand, he stepped up to the portal. He could feel the serpent of fear start to coil around his courage and squeeze his will, but he ignored his fear and stepped into the portal.

  The purple wavering field filled his vision and made him slightly motion sick for an instant, then he was through. He was shocked that the blasting heat of the Nether didn’t smash into him as it did on the last server. In fact it was fairly cool, almost comfortable . . .

  Looking up, he found Crafter waiting nearby, already mounted on his horse.

  “Thanks for joining me,” the young NPC said, a smile on his face.

  Gameknight wasn’t sure if he was being sincere, or sarcastic.

  “Let’s get this done,” he said as he swung back up onto his horse.

  Turning he faced away from the portal. They could see the other half of the bridge stretching out before them, the gentle arc slowly bending back down to the ground. There were no threats nearby.

  “Wait here,” Gameknight said to Crafter as he rode down the pathway.

  The bridge was identical curving down as it had been curving up. Digging his heals into his horse’s flanks, he sprinted down the length of the bridge. Below him was water, a vast ocean that stretched out underneath the bridge, a sandy beach slowly coming into view. He could see stairs at the end of the bridge that led down to the beach, but instead of leading to a desert biome, it led to something that was completely pale, with sand everywhere across the ground. Instead of grainy sandstone or rocky hills, Gameknight saw only white. It wasn’t snow; it was something else. Stretching out away from the bridge was a gravel path that led off between two tall spires, all white. Carved into the spires were the shapes of two NPCs, each one wearing billowing cloaks and robes. They both held a sword in one hand, the other hand held straight out as if commanding all those approaching to stop.

  Looking across the landscape, Gameknight could see no threats, just the tall statues of the two stony kings guarding the entrance to who knows what. Spinning his mount around, he charged back up the bridge and back to Crafter.

  “What is it?” the young NPC asked. “Are there monsters?”

  “No, nothing,” Gameknight answered. “Just the other half of the bridge.”

  Gameknight dismounted to catch his breath and allow his horse to rest.

  “Bring the rest,” he said to Crafter. “I’ll wait here.”

  Crafter dismounted and grabbed the horse’s reins. He then stepped through the portal, pu
lling the horse close behind. They disappeared in an instant, but within a minute Crafter returned, with Mason and their soldiers at his back.

  Herder moved excitedly back to Gameknight’s side, Stitcher already mounted on Crafter’s horse.

  “What is it that lies before us?” Mason asked as he mounted his horse.

  “A strange land at the foot of the bridge,” Gameknight answered, “but no monsters that I could see.”

  “This is good news,” Mason said in a loud voice. “We’ve beaten the creatures of the night to the first key. Come on, let’s go.”

  The warriors stormed down the bridge with Mason and Crafter at the head of the column, Gameknight taking up the rear. When they reached the bottom, the soldiers spread out, taking up defensive positions, all eyes scanning the terrain looking for threats.

  Gameknight trotted his horse up to Crafter and Mason and stopped off to the side.

  “Where now, User-that-is-not-a-user?” Mason asked.

  Pointing along the gravel path, Gameknight kicked his horse forward, his shimmering diamond sword in his hand, Mason and Crafter following at his side. The path led him between the two massive statues, their flowing robes made out of sand stone, the outstretched arm formed from what looked like iron blocks. Gameknight and Herder both looked nervously up at the two figures as they rode between them, Gameknight hoping they would not come to life and squash them.

  “Who do you think built these statues?” Gameknight said.

  “The Creator built everything on this server,” Crafter said as if reciting from some sacred tome. “This is his private server, where much of the development of Minecraft was done. Everything you see was formed by the Creator’s hand.”

  Gameknight grunted.

  “I wish he’d created a quicker way to find this stupid Rose,” Gameknight replied, a disrespectful edge to his voice. This brought a grunt from both Crafter and Mason as they galloped forward, but drew a laugh from Stitcher.

  The gravel pathway led past the two statues to a high wall maybe eight blocks tall, a colossal mountain beyond that, all made of the shining white blocks. There was no plant life in sight, no trees, no grass, no flowers; just a sea of antiseptic cubes of white. Ahead, he could see a narrow opening in the wall just two blocks wide, the path leading straight for the gap. As they followed the gravel trail to the high wall, Gameknight reached out and tapped the pale blocks with his sword. They rang like a bell; a pure tone that resonated to the neighboring blocks, creating a harmony of sounds that filled the air.