Confronting the Dragon

by Mark Cheverton

  And then the wolves were on them.

  Huge, furry white creatures were running straight at them. Gameknight could tell they were enraged; their eyes glowed bright red. He could see in the distance that the pack must have been at least thirty strong if not more; they had no chance of surviving an attack like that. Each had a colored collar around their necks, but Gameknight couldn’t make any sense of that; fear and panic was ruling his mind. Gripping his sword firmly, he readied for the first set of snapping jaws.

  And then the massive pack of wolves streaked by.

  They were like little white bullets as they shot past them, weaving around the leafless trees. The wolves ran up the hill and then plunged down the other side like an unstoppable white wave

  As the last of the wolves passed, Stitcher cried out. “It’s Herder!”

  Gameknight snapped his head around and saw Herder sprinting after the last of the wolves.

  “Hi Gameknight,” the lanky boy said as he ran past, a huge grin on his face.

  “What?” Gameknight was confused.

  “Come on, they’re attacking the skeletons!” Crafter yelled as he streaked up the hill.

  Still in shock, Gameknight sprinted up the hill and then stopped at the crest. What he saw stunned him. The clearing was bedlam; white wolves were battling with the ashen wither-skeletons. Sharp teeth were snapping at dark bones as iron swords tore into furry flesh.

  “Come on, we need to help,” Stitcher yelled.

  “No, free your sister,” Gameknight yelled as he tossed her a diamond pickaxe.

  Stitcher caught the tool in the air and ran toward the iron cage as Gameknight followed her. Running into the battle, Gameknight swung his enchanted sword with every ounce of strength he had. Ducking under an iron blade, he slashed at a skeleton, then spun and blocked an attack with his diamond sword. Rolling under another iron blade, Gameknight took out the legs from an attacker as he turned and skewered another dark bony monster.

  Looking over his shoulder, he could see Crafter locked in a deadly dance with one of the monsters, the tall skeleton driving his friend back, but then there were two wolves attacking the dark beast, snapping legs and crunching arms. The monster disappeared in a cloud of bones and XP balls. The skeletons were slowly losing the battle, but there were still many alive, and it only takes one to kill you.

  Dashing forward, he grabbed the sword arm of another skeleton just as it was about to bring it down on a wounded wolf. Tearing the sword from its bony grip, he shoved the monster to the ground as two other wolves fell on it, consuming its HP in seconds.

  Clank!

  An arrow bounced off his diamond armor, pushing him back three steps. He’d been shot at by a bow . . . an enchanted bow.

  Turning, he looked across the battlefield to see a wither-skeleton holding an enchanted bow, an arrow notched and aimed right at him. The skeleton released the arrow. Gameknight could see the arrow spiral through the air as it headed straight toward him. It was like watching a movie in slow motion. The approaching arrow transfixed him; his mind seemingly paralyzed by the experience. And then suddenly he was knocked off his feet, Herder on top of him. He could hear the arrow zip past his ear as he tumbled to the ground. Looking up at the skeleton, Gameknight could see the dark monster notch another arrow and aim it at Gameknight’s head. He’d lost his helmet and sword in the tumble; he was defenseless. The wither-skeleton gave him a bony smile as he drew the arrow back, the pointed barb aimed right at the User-that-is-not-a-user’s head. But just before he could fire, an arrow pierced the monster’s side, causing his aim to waver. The skeleton released the arrow just as another shaft hit the monster in the chest.

  “You don’t shoot arrows at my friends!” Hunter screamed. “And I definitely did not give you permission to use my bow!”

  The skeleton’s arrow sank into the ground next to Gameknight as Hunter’s projectiles struck the monster in the chest again . . . and again . . . and again. The dark monster disappeared in a puff of bones and coal.

  “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Hunter exclaimed.

  She then dashed to Gameknight as the wolves destroyed the last of the wither-skeletons.

  “You OK?” Hunter asked as she reached out and helped him up.

  Gameknight nodded, then turned and looked for Herder. He found him on the ground with an arrow in his side. Extending a blocky hand, Gameknight reached down and help the youth up to his feet.

  “Are you OK?” Gameknight asked.

  Herder touched the arrow protruding from his side and winced, then gave him a huge grin.

  “I told you . . . told you I needed more friends . . . friends,” Herder stammered.

  “Well, you certainly brought the right ones,” Gameknight replied, slapping him on the back and making him wince again.

  “It’s a good thing you found a pack of wolves and not a herd of pigs,” Crafter added as he approached, a huge grin on his young face.

  This made Gameknight laugh for the first time in . . . who knows how long. The image of a herd of pigs coming to Hunter’s rescue caused him to chuckle.

  And then Stitcher came running forward and dove into her sister’s arms. Hunter instantly dropped the bow and wrapped her arms around her younger sister and hugged her as tears streamed down her cheeks. They stood there, unmoving, as they held onto each other, each grateful for the other’s safety.

  “I was so terrified when I saw that monstrous ghast take you back in the Nether,” Stitcher whispered into Hunter’s ear. “I cried out to you, but I was too far away. When I finally made it out of the fortress . . . you were gone.”

  “You were there . . . where?”

  “I was taken captive after they . . . after they destroyed our village,” Stitcher explained, cries of joy punctuated with a moment of sadness. “Mom and Dad . . .”

  “Yeah . . . I know . . . they’re gone.”

  And now Stitcher and Hunter were both crying again, this time joy replaced with sadness as the realization that their parents were gone sank in and became real. Their family had been shattered by Malacoda’s evil plans and now they only had each other. This realization made them hold on a little longer until finally Stitcher released her hug and looked up at her big sister.

  “I made Gameknight999 promise that he’d come save you,” Stitcher said as she wiped the tears from her eyes, then smiled at the User-that-is-not-a-user. “And here we are.”

  “Well, I have to say that I am glad that he kept his promise,” Hunter replied, smiling at Gameknight. “But who is this new person? I don’t think I know you.”

  As she reached out to shake Herder’s hand, she saw the arrow sticking out of his side.

  “Oh no, you’re hurt,” she said to Herder.

  “It’s . . . it’s nothing,” Herder answered. “I’ve had . . . I’ve had worse.”

  “You’re such a liar, Herder,” Stitcher snapped. “Are you telling me that you’ve had worse than being shot by a wither-skeleton?”

  The lanky boy looked away guiltily, shuffling his feet.

  “That’s what I thought,” Stitcher said. “But you did great, Herder. Without your wolves, I don’t know how we would have saved my sister. Thank you.”

  She gave him a kiss on the cheek, then a big hug.

  The skinny boy’s face turned red as he looked away, embarrassed. Just then, Hunter grabbed the shaft of the arrow and yanked it out of his side. Herder yelled in pain and surprise. A chorus of growls suddenly sounded in the clearing as the twenty or so surviving wolves started to slowly approach Hunter. Moving quickly, Herder stepped in front of the pack with his arms outstretched.

  “These are Herder’s friends,” the boy said. “You must treat them like you would treat me.”

  The red eyes slowly faded to yellow as the animals calmed down and relaxed.

  “We have to go, now!” Hunter said. “I know what Malacoda is planning and we have to hurry.”

  “What is it?” Crafter asked.

  �
�I’ll explain on the way. I hope you brought horses, for speed is our only ally now.”

  “They’re over that way,” Gameknight said, pointing toward them with his shimmering sword.

  “Then let’s get going,” Hunter snapped.

  The party sprinted through the woods, the herd of wolves running with them toward their mounts. But none of them saw the dark enderman watching the entire battle from the top of the rocky outcropping that looked down on the clearing. The shadowy monster watched the group run through the trees until they were out of sight, then a mist of purple particles enveloped the creature as he teleported to his King . . . Erebus.

  CHAPTER 23

  MALACODA’S PLAN

  After the enderman delivered the news of Hunter’s escape, Malacoda screamed in rage, his booming voice echoing across the plain. The cat-like screams and blood-curdling cries made all the monsters nearby bring their clawed hands to their ears to block out the terrible noise.

  Erebus stood his ground and did not move, but had been careful to be out of arm’s reach when the bad news was delivered. He’d seen the speed at which Malacoda could strike with those nine tentacles and he didn’t want to be his next victim.

  “What do you mean she’s gone!” Malacoda bellowed.

  “He took her.” Erebus answered, his voice screeching with nervousness.

  “He . . . you mean that . . .”

  “Yes, the User-that-is-not-a-user took your prisoner from your wither-skeletons. Do you remember back in your Nether fortress, when I told you that this Gameknight999 can do the unexpected at the most inconvenient of times?”

  Malacoda just grunted and looked away.

  “Well, that’s what he did here,” Erebus said. “He stopped his pursuit of the second key to the Source to save this one NPC.”

  “But it makes no sense,” Malacoda boomed as he floated up higher into the air, his eyes burning bright red. “Why would he divert his entire army just to save only one NPC?”

  “He didn’t have his entire army,” Erebus answered with a wry smile. “It was only the User-that-is-not-a-user and three NPCs.”

  The enderman next to Erebus muttered something to his King.

  “Ahh yes, and a pack of wolves,” he added.

  “Four warriors and some dogs defeated my wither-skeletons?” Malacoda asked, disbelief and rage painted across his mottled face. The tear-like scars under his eyes were beginning to glow bright with his rage.

  “Oh . . . and did I fail to mention that Gameknight999 was the only user there, the other three were NPC kids.”

  “WHAT!”

  Erebus smiled.

  Malacoda was beyond insane with rage. Floating down to a nearby blaze, he reached out with lightning speed and slammed his nine tentacles into the fiery body. The punches sounded like bolts of lightning, the doomed creature’s HP being extinguished in seconds, leaving behind only a few glow rods to mark the flaming monster’s existence.

  “How could you let this happen?” Malacoda screamed down at Erebus.

  The enderman stepped forward and spoke in a low voice, only meant for the King of the Nether’s ears.

  “If you recall . . . your greatness . . . I recommended moving the prisoner down into the tunnels to have her surrounded by lava.” Erebus paused, then stepped back to make sure he was again out of arm’s reach, then spoke so that others could hear. “The User-that-is-not-a-user mocks all the monsters of the Overworld and the Nether with this insult. But we will have our revenge on him soon enough.”

  “I want revenge, now! I want him destroyed, NOW!” boomed Malacoda. “We will move to attack these NPCs from the Overworld and destroy them at once.”

  “No,” Erebus said quickly, taking another step back.

  “What did you say?” Malacoda growled, his cat-like voice filled with anger.

  “That would be a mistake . . . your supreme kingliness.” Erebus stepped closer again, risking the ghast’s wrath, but lowered his voice for only the King’s ears. “We should let those foolish NPCs lead us to the second key, then let them battle whatever guards it. After they capture that key for us, then we will take our revenge.” Erebus then moved back a step or two and raised his screechy voice so that all could hear. “We will steal the keys to the Source from these insignificant NPCs and then the Source will be ours for the taking . . . and the destroying.”

  Erebus teleported to the top of a small hill that placed him at the same level as Malacoda. Glancing across the army of monsters, he held his long black arms out wide.

  “Brothers and sisters, victory is nearly in our grasp. These NPCs are too few to stand against us. We will be like an unstoppable storm, and crash down on them so violently that they will wish their creator, Notch, had never bothered to write them into Minecraft’s code.”

  The monsters cheered.

  Erebus turned his head and looked at Malacoda. The King of the Nether looked agitated, his anger growing. He knew that he still had to be careful . . . for now.

  Smiling, the King of the Endermen continued. “The King of the Nether will lead all of us to the greatest battle that has ever been seen . . . the Last Battle for Minecraft. And after we are victorious here, we will go to the physical world where we will take over EVERYTHING!”

  Another cheer came from the monsters.

  “But we must be patient and wait until the time is right,” he added as Malacoda’s burning eyes glared down on him. “All hail Malacoda, King of the Nether!”

  Erebus extended a long dark arm towards the floating ghast, then raised his dark fists up into the air. The monsters cheered again, their moans and wails echoing across the landscape. Looking down on the army, Erebus could see the cold dead eyes of the monsters looking up at Malacoda, their faces filled with violent expectation, but many were also looking up toward him. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he looked at Malacoda. The ghast was smiling at this momentary adulation and sucked up every moment of it, his eyes sparkling with self-satisfaction.

  The fool.

  Soon, they would be his soldiers and he’d be free of this idiot ghast. Malacoda, your days are numbered, he thought as he raised a dark fist up high and cheered. As he thought about his plan to eliminate the fool, a wry knowing smile crept across the King of the Endermen’s dark face.

  CHAPTER 24

  SHAWNY

  They rode hard, heading to the north-west toward Mason and the army. Gameknight rode out front, setting the grueling pace with Herder at his side, a furry white protective ring always surrounding the party. Stitcher, having refused to leave Hunter’s side, rode with her on one horse, the two of them talking continuously—recounting everything that had happened since their village had been attacked. And Crafter, with his bright blue eyes scanning the horizon for monsters, brought up the rear.

  Sometime in the afternoon, they crossed over from the tall hilly forest biome to the unusual and dry savannah biome. The strange, flat-topped acacia trees dotted the flat landscape with their gray-green leaves, looking unhealthy in the reddish hue of Minecraft’s sun. Their disjointed, angular trunks and grayish bark looked almost alien-like compared to the tall majestic oaks and lush, green pines of the forest biome. Gameknight liked this flat terrain, though; he could see monsters coming from far away. They saw the occasional zombie or spider approach across the savannah, their bodies cutting through the tall yellow-tinted grass like sharks through ocean waves, but Hunter made quick work of them with her bow; the monsters never got getting close enough make anyone draw their sword.

  Riding through the rest of the day and all through the night, they made good time. Near dawn, Gameknight saw the sun start to brighten the horizon over his shoulder off to the east. As with most users and NPCs, he was glad to see the sun rising, for the night belonged to the monsters, but they had seen few during their trek back toward Mason.

  As the landscape started to brighten, Gameknight turned to Crafter and smiled.

  “I’ve always like the sunrise,” he said to his young f
riend who was now riding up front.

  “I know, me too,” Crafter replied as he smiled and turned his head toward the rising square sun. “My great-great uncle Taylor used to say ‘sunrises are Notch’s salute to those that survived the night. It is a rebirth, where all the sins of the night are washed away by the luminous yellow face of the sun.’”

  But then his smile quickly faded to a scowl.

  Gameknight could feel the tension in his friend and looked off to the east. The sun was its normal deep red on the horizon, but as it climbed into the sky, the face of the sun kept its stained discoloration. It cast a deep crimson tint across the landscape, shading everything with a dark rosy hue as if the entire day were sunrise.

  “It’s getting worse,” Crafter said.

  “Those vile shadow-crafters,” Hunter said. “They are the ones doing this to Minecraft.”

  “But why?” Gameknight asked as he urged his horse to go a little faster.

  “They never said,” Hunter replied. “The green one, Zombiebrine, did most of the talking, but from what I could tell he wasn’t the one in charge. There was another, with bright glowing eyes . . . that one was in charge, though he never spoke.”

  “I think we should assume that these shadow-crafters are helping the monsters of Minecraft,” Stitcher said from in front of Hunter. “After all, we have the light-crafters on our side . . . it’s reasonable to assume that they will have the shadow-crafters.”

  Gameknight nodded and urged his horse forward a little faster. Looking around the landscape, he saw few living creatures in this biome with the exception of horses; they seemed to spawn naturally in the savannah. He was always nervous of the unexpected monster popping up out of a hole or tunnel entrance to surprise them. But today he felt unusually at ease. Likely this was due to the ring of wolves that encircled them; the pack obediently following Herder’s commands—protect. If a spider or creeper were to suddenly appear, the wolves would quickly take care of them, allowing Gameknight to relax a little as he swayed back and forth in the saddle.