The Wither Invasion

by Mark Cheverton

  Er-Lan put a hand on Watcher’s shoulder. “Does Watcher still have the wizard’s cape?”

  Watcher nodded. “Yes, I do. Thank you for making sure I had it; that cape saved my life. Without it, I’m sure my Elytra wings would have snapped off after I fell from Krael’s shoulders. I couldn’t have survived that fall. You were right about me needing it.”

  “The need is not over.” Er-Lan sounded serious.

  Watcher pulled out the dark purple cape, its ornate gold stitching sparkling in the sunlight. “How can you tell?”

  The zombie shrugged. “Er-Lan does not know; it is just a feeling, like visions of the future.”

  “Did you have a vision about Tharus’s Cape?”

  Er-Lan shook his green head. “No, just a feeling, but a strong one. Watcher must be careful with that cape and keep it safe, or …”

  “Or what?”

  “It is uncertain, but likely it would be bad if it were to become lost.”

  Watcher glanced down at the cloak and nodded, then stuffed it back into his inventory.

  “It’s good to see the golems bonding to the villagers,” a scratchy voice said from behind. “They aren’t used to being around other NPCs.”

  Watcher slowed his pace, allowing the golems to move to the head of the formation, then picked up the pace when he was near Planter and Mirthrandos.

  Planter’s mysterious midnight-blue armor sparkled with enchanted powers, tiny red embers dancing across its surface as if it were heated from within. She reached up and tugged at the helmet, hoping to pull it off, but she couldn’t. In fact, since magically clamping around her body, the armor had remained stuck. Planter had tried many times to remove the glistening shell, but she’d been unsuccessful; it seemed unwilling to release the young girl, and that just added to Planter’s hatred of magic.

  “Weren’t there villagers in Wizard City during the Great War between the NPC wizards and the monster warlocks?” Planter ran a finger under her helmet to scratch an annoying itch.

  “Of course there were,” the ancient wizard said. “But I made the golems after everyone had abandoned Wizard City.”

  “That must have been lonely for the golems, Mirthrandos.” Watcher glanced at the old woman, a purple glow coiling around her body like an iridescent snake.

  “You know, since I joined your little war here and let you borrow my wolves, mechites, and golems, you’ve all been so formal with me. The least you can do is relax a bit; call me Mira instead of Mirthrandos. I always feel like I’m in trouble whenever someone uses my full name.”

  Watcher glanced at Planter. They both smiled and nodded their heads.

  “Okay then, Mira,” Watcher said. “Are you planning on living with us? You, your wolves, mechites, and golems would be welcome.”

  Planter nodded. “That’s right. We certainly have room in the Wizard’s Tower for everyone. Our village is built within that ancient structure, to avoid being seen by any of the monster warlords, if there are any left out there.”

  “Yeah, we destroyed the skeleton, zombie, and spider warlords; who knows if there are more.” Watcher scowled slightly. “The last thing we want to do is have more battles with monsters. It’s better if they leave us alone and we leave them alone.”

  “That’s always a good theory, Watcher.” Mira gave him a faint nod. “But I’ve learned that keeping your eyes shut so you don’t see bad things doesn’t mean the bad things aren’t coming.”

  “That’s true,” Watcher said. “But we aren’t gonna go out looking for them. We figured staying hidden was a better choice.”

  Mira shrugged. “Perhaps.” She closed her eyes as if reliving some distant memory. “I haven’t been to the Wizard’s Tower for many centuries.”

  “When was the last time you were there?” Planter asked.

  The ancient wizard laughed. “The last time I was in the Wizard’s Tower, our great leader, Tharus, punished me for helping out that wither back during the Great War, hundreds of years ago.”

  “You mean when he made it so you wouldn’t age anymore?” someone said. Mapper moved to the old woman’s side, his bald head reflecting the light from the high sun overhead, making his head and the ring of gray hair along its edges seem to glow.

  “That’s right, Mapper.” Mira nodded. “Tharus used the magic woven into the Wizard’s Tower to amplify his power. That let him cast the spell that sentenced me to this terrible eternal life.” She grew quiet. “I swore I’d never care about anyone ever again. Watching all my loved ones grow old and die was heartbreaking.”

  “Then why did you help us?” Planter asked.

  “Well, Fixit thought you were worth it.” Mira reached out and ran her fingers through the tiny mechite’s silver hair. The wolf on which Fixit rode gave her a playful bark. “I learned long ago that Fixit was a good judge of character, so if he thought you were worth helping, then who was I to disagree?”

  Watcher smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t disagree. Without your help, I don’t think we would have been able to keep Krael and his army of monsters from flooding into the Far Lands and destroying everything.”

  “And though the Far Lands is millions of blocks from the center of the Overworld,” Mapper added, “I think the wither king would have tried to destroy the rest of this world as well.”

  “No doubt.” Mira nodded, her long gray hair swaying back and forth.

  “You think we’ve seen the last of Krael?” Planter asked.

  Mira shrugged. Watcher noticed a strange expression on the ancient wizard’s face. Is she hiding something from us? he wondered.

  Wizards always have secrets, a deep voice, not his own, echoed in Watcher’s mind.

  He reached into his inventory and pulled out the Flail of Regrets. With a leather-wrapped wooden handle, length of stout chain, and a large spiked-ball at the end glowing with magical power, the Flail was a vicious weapon in battle. It was originally from the days of the Great War, centuries ago.

  Like many of the weapons in his arsenal, this one had the mind of an ancient wizard within it. At the end of the Great War, the NPC wizards put their minds and power into weapons like the Flail, making it possible for a warrior without magical power to wield them and take advantage of the enchantments each held. The wizard trapped inside the Flail of Regrets was named Baltheron, and Watcher had learned to heed his advice.

  What are you saying? Is Mira lying? Watcher was confused.

  She isn’t lying, but Mirthrandos certainly has secrets of her own. Be cautious. And then the deep voice in Watcher’s mind grew silent.

  “Are you planning on doing something with that flail?” Planter’s brow creased with concern.

  Watcher shook his head. He had two other weapons with wizards’ minds trapped within them: his sword, Needle, and the Gauntlets of Life, one of which was clasped around each wrist. Planter, too, had such artifacts: her magical shield had likely saved their lives many times, though she hated using it. She also wore armor colored a deep blue, as if it had been made from rare lapis gems, with magical red embers sparkling at its edges. No wizard lived within the deep blue armor plates, as far as they knew, but they clearly had strong enchantments wrapped into their smooth surfaces.

  “Are you listening to me?” Planter’s face changed from concerned to annoyed.

  “Ahh … sorry, I was just thinking.” Watcher put the Flail of Regrets back into his inventory.

  “Were you talking to that thing again?”

  Watcher shrugged. He knew she hated all this magic and just wanted it to go away.

  “No, I was thinking about Krael. I hope we don’t ever see that monster again.” Watcher felt bad about lying, but in this case, with Planter, it was better to lie; she didn’t trust anything having to do with magic.

  “I can see my spruce tree,” Blaster shouted from atop the lead golem. “We’re almost home.”

  “Spruce tree?” Mapper was clearly confused. “Why would there be a spruce tree in an oak and birch forest? Spruces are
only found in Taiga biomes and—”

  “That’s the point, Mapper.” Watcher nodded. “Blaster planted a spruce tree on the edge of a trail marking the path leading to the Wizard’s Tower. With it being a spruce tree, it would stand out without being obvious.”

  “With the Wizard’s Tower sunken into the ground, it’s hard to find,” Planter explained.

  “Yes, of course.” Mira glanced at Planter, then back to the ground.

  “Do you know something about that, Mira?” Watcher moved a step closer to the ancient wizard. “How did the Tower sink into a huge hole?”

  The ancient wizard shrugged. “Ahh … I don’t know, sorry.” Mira’s words were rapid and rushed, as if she wanted the topic to end as quickly as possible.

  Wizards always have secrets, indeed, Watcher thought, but he received no answer from Baltheron, Dalgaroth, or Taerian; none of the wizards inhabiting his weapons spoke up, but he sensed they knew something as well.

  Watcher was about to ask Mira a more direct question when Blaster yelled again.

  “I can see the Tower. Come on, everyone, let’s get home. I need a rest, and I think my iron friend here needs one too.” Blaster laughed as he patted the mega-giant on the arm, then chopped down another branch with his axe. As he did so, he lost his balance and nearly fell, but the golem reached out with his other hand and steadied the boy. Nearby, Fencer laughed at him as she chopped at a clump of branches.

  “Come on, Planter. I think it best the first thing our friends see is us.” Watcher cast her a smile. “An army of iron golems bearing down on them might cause a bit of panic.”

  “I think you’re right,” she replied. “Let’s run.”

  Sprinting around trees and shrubs, Planter dashed ahead of the company, leaving Watcher three steps behind. Fixit squeaked excitedly as his wolf dashed forward, easily keeping pace with them, the metallic animal howling with joy.

  The forest suddenly opened onto an unnatural circular clearing, a huge, jagged hole torn into its grassy surface. Out of the massive hole protruded a cylindrical tower made of stone bricks and dark red nether bricks. Stained glass of various colors adorned the sides, allowing the afternoon rays to penetrate the structure, lighting it with colorful hues. The top of the tower, standing at a height that was just below the tops of the nearby trees, was covered by pristine white blocks of quartz with dark cubes of obsidian weaving geometric shapes across the roof.

  Watcher moved to the edge of the gigantic hole and peered into its shadowy depths. Farther below, the tower connected to a gigantic palace-like structure entirely buried underground. Watcher knew the ancient construction stretched out in all directions, with passages and tunnels leading to more buildings, all of which were still buried beneath the forest.

  This was the Wizard’s Tower, built hundreds of years ago, before the Great War, and now home to Watcher and his friends.

  Moving to the edge of the cavernous opening, Watcher stared down into the hole, always amazed at the building’s construction. The tower itself was thirty to forty blocks high, but was barely visible within the oak forest since, at some point in the distant past, the tower and all the many structures connected to it fell into the massive hole here. Watcher figured the monster warlocks were responsible for this, but who knew? Maybe he could get Mira to tell him what had happened.

  The sight of the Tower, their home, made Watcher smile. He glanced at Planter. “I have a feeling today’s gonna be a good day.”

  She smiled. “It’s good to be home.” Planter stepped to the edge of the hole and stared down.

  A wolf’s howl pierced the afternoon air, followed by another and another.

  “They can feel the magic woven into the Tower,” Mirthrandos said. “I can feel it, too.” She glanced at Watcher. “It reminds us all of Wizard City … of home.”

  Watcher nodded. “I know you gave up a lot to help us with Krael and his army of withers. We are forever grateful to you and your metallic friends.”

  He turned and gazed at the huge iron golems and the darker obsidian golems blending into the shadows of the forest. They stood at the edge of the clearing, some of them glancing at the forest, as if expecting to be attacked. The iron wolves spread out along the edge of the huge hole with the mechites still riding on their backs, each of the small metallic creatures holding on to the wolves’ thick silver fur as they all gazed at the tower, the animals’ tails wagging excitedly.

  Fixit glanced at Watcher, then turned and whispered a series of squeaks into his wolf’s ear. The animal nodded, then barked and howled. Instantly, a group of wolves with their mechite riders spread out, forming a large circle around the tower, then slowly moved under the trees, disappearing into the shadows. The golems, seeing the wolves go, moved deeper into the forest, their thunderous footsteps shaking the ground.

  Suddenly, an NPC climbed out of the top of the tower, his gray hair shining in the late afternoon sunlight. He wore a long white smock, the gray stripe running down the front matching his hair.

  “Son, you’re home, finally!” Cleric said. “I notice the terrible wither king isn’t with you. Have we seen the last of him?”

  Watcher smiled and nodded. “Yep, he won’t be bothering us anymore.”

  “Great.” Cleric gave his son a huge smile. “Come on in and let’s talk.” He pointed at the wolves, mechites, and golems. “Your friends are, of course, welcome in our village.”

  Before Watcher could respond, Cleric disappeared down the ladder that led to the top of the Wizard’s Tower.

  Squeak, squawk, hmmm came Fixit’s tiny voice from beside Watcher.

  Watcher turned toward Fixit, then glanced at Er-Lan.

  “Fixit said, ‘he looked like a nice villager.’ ” Er-Lan nodded, then looked down at Fixit. “The mechite is correct. Cleric is nice and wise … a true friend.”

  “Come on, everyone, let’s go home.” Watcher followed Planter into the hole.

  They moved down a trail marked with redstone torches placed there by Blaster many years ago. Jumping from block to block, the villagers descended along the steep walls. The wolves with their mechite riders had no trouble keeping up, but the golems remained on guard duty in the forest … just in case.

  Watcher followed Planter along the trail, her beautiful blond hair swinging back and forth from under her cerulean-blue helmet. He wanted to reach out and touch the golden strands, but he knew that wasn’t their relationship anymore. Planter was still furious at Watcher; he’d forced her to use her magic with the enchanted shield in her inventory too many times, causing her to sever their relationship. Her angry words still echoed in the back of his mind: “You and me … we’re done. I can’t trust you when all you care about is magic and power.” A great sense of emptiness now consumed Watcher’s soul.

  Suddenly, a villager stepped out onto the roof of the underground structure that was still far below him, their body masked by shadows. Watcher glanced down from the trail at the person, unsure who they were, but as they stepped into the sunlight, her long brown hair and bright blue eyes instantly identified her; it was Winger, his sister.

  “I hope you didn’t break the Elytra wings I gave you when you left, brother.” Winger smiled.

  “Well … they were a little banged up, but that Mending enchantment you put on them helped out a lot.” Watcher pulled them out of his inventory and quickly put them on, then ran toward the edge of the trail and jumped into the air. The wings snapped open and floated on the gentle air currents flowing through the gigantic hole. He turned in a smooth arc, smiling at Planter as he flew by; she gave him an angry scowl. Turning to the right, he descended, picking up speed, then pulled up at the last minute to slow himself as he gracefully landed next to Winger, who was smiling with pride.

  “Here you go, sis.” Watcher removed the wings and handed them back to her. “If I hadn’t had these Elytra, I probably wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

  She took the wings, then reached out and hugged him.

  Wa
tcher stood there for a moment, and, for the first time in a long time, he finally relaxed. “It’s good to be home.”

  “I’m glad you’re back, and everyone is safe.”

  Watcher released the hug and stepped back. “Not everyone.” He gritted his teeth, trying to control his emotions. “Some of our friends didn’t make the return trip.”

  “You mean they …”

  Watcher nodded. “Krael and those ancient zombie warriors got many of them.”

  Planter jumped off the end of the path and landed on the colorful roof next to Winger.

  “We saved a lot of people, but not everyone.” Planter hugged Winger. “Everyone did their best, but some sacrifices were made.” She grew quiet for a moment, then stepped away.

  “You need to tell us all about it,” Winger said. “But first, I have one question.”

  “What?” Watcher and Planter said at the same time.

  Just then, an iron wolf stepped off the path and moved to Planter’s side. Fixit, riding on the animal’s back, looked up at Planter and smiled, giving off a series of squeaks and whistles.

  “Did you meet anyone interesting or different?” Winger glanced down at the metallic animal and its rider, then looked up at an obsidian golem standing guard at the edge of the huge pit.

  Planter glanced at Watcher, then smiled. “I don’t think we met anyone interesting or different. What do you think, Watcher?”

  “Nope, nothing unusual at all.”

  Mira stepped off the path and moved onto the roof of the structure, her metal-tipped staff clicking on the ancient structure with every step. She knelt and moved her hand across the surface of the Wizard’s Tower as if she were caressing an old friend.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary, huh? I see.” Winger laughed. “Come on, the entire village has assembled below. They’re anxious to hear if an army of withers is about to show up and destroy everything.”

  Watcher stood next to his sister on the roof of the ancient structure they called home with Planter and Mira on either side. The rest of the NPCs and the huge pack of wolves descended the steep staircase, each mechite smiling up at him as they passed. When the last had moved down the long staircase that penetrated the roof, Watcher sighed. “It’s good to be home and safe again.” He glanced over his shoulder at Planter. “I hope this is gonna be a really great day.”