by Cube Kid
I tried the latter. “Back.”
The visual enchantment screen returned to its former state.
“Interesting.” Touching the screen with her paws, Meowz began browsing through all of her abilities.
I did the same, pawing down the list, accessing each sub-menu, reading it, and saying the word “back” in my mind each time.
Here’s a full list of my abilities:
(I’m guessing “INT” means intelligence? I have no idea what “AI” means and neither does Greyfellow.)
The endermage said an ability’s level is a measure of how powerful it is. So, most of my abilities are still pretty weak. But they won’t be like that forever!
“By the way, energy is used for abilities,” the enderman said. “Spells, too. Using abilities and casting spells drain your energy bar. That’s why Eeebs could breathe only one fireball yesterday and only puffs of smoke afterward. Energy slowly recharges over time. So it’s best to use your abilities only when you absolutely need them. Like most monsters, you have a maximum of 100 energy.”
“How do we know how much energy we currently have?” Tufty asked.
“That’s the yellow bar in your HUD, or heads-up display. Simply concentrate upon the word ‘HUD’ in your mind, and it will appear across the bottom of your vision. If you are injured, hungry, drained of energy, or debuffed in any way, your HUD will automatically appear, as a kind of reminder, until your condition improves.”
Okay, let’s try it: HUD.
As soon as I thought this, a bunch of stuff appeared across the bottom of my vision, just like the enderman had described.
“The hearts are a measure of your life force,” Greyfellow said. “Each heart represents two hit points. By the way, I’m curious. How many hearts do you have?”
Each of us replied with the same number:
“Ten!”
“Twenty hit points, then. Not much. You’ll gain much more as you grow stronger, though.”
“What about the gray shirt things?” I asked, not wanting to think about what would happen if all of my hearts were removed.
“That’s a visual indicator of your protection, otherwise known as armor. The more armor you have, the less damage you will take. Some forms of damage bypass armor, however.”
“How about the boxes?”
“Your hotbar. You can secure items to your body—with the help of a belt, for example—or in an easy-to-reach location in your inventory. You may then access those items quickly.”
All three nether kittens exchanged glances: “Inventory?”
The enderman then explained how we each have an “extra-dimensional space” that lets us carry many items. We only have to say “inventory” in our minds for the inventory screen to appear. That must be how Batwing withdrew the tellstone from what looked like thin air: He accessed his inventory.
“Your inventories are currently quite small,” Greyfellow said. “You can increase the size of your inventory by wearing a container, like a belt pouch. There are even enchanted containers that dramatically increase your inventory space. Sadly, such items, enchanted or not, won’t be easy for kittens to wear. They aren’t normally designed for animals. An easy way around that, if you felt the need to carry many items, would be to level-up your Pack Beast ability.”
Tufty blinked. “Um, can you repeat that? I’m totally confused.”
“Same here,” I said. “I guess that means we really need to level-up our Higher Intelligence ability, huh?”
After we played around with our visual enchantment screens, a question spawned in my mind. “Say, how do we get stronger, anyway? And how can our abilities gain levels?”
The enderman gave me a strange look. All of his expressions were strange, really, but his expression then was as if I’d just asked why zombie pigmen are purple and have ice cream cones for heads.
“By doing your job,” he said.
“And that is?”
“Turning Herobrine’s and EnderStar’s minions into clouds of smoke. Every time you defeat one, you’ll absorb some of its power. Of course, you’ll also grow stronger by questing.”
Questing … ?
Before anyone could even ask for clarification, more screens appeared before us.
Like with the ability screens, simply thinking about the word “quest” conjured what could be called a “quest screen”:
Sadly, Tufty and Meowz had different messages on their quest screens.
“What does all of this mean?!” Tufty said. “It’s so weird!”
“I have to agree,” Meowz said. “I’m so confused I could hiss! It’s not fair, you know? We’ve been chosen to help save the world, and all this new stuff is being thrown at us, and we don’t even get classes or something?”
“It does seem an awful lot has been thrust upon you kittens,” Greyfellow said. “A heavy burden, indeed. I am doing my best to teach you, but there are many things I do not know. Eeebs, I do suggest returning to the Overworld as soon as you can. Once there, the first place you should head to is the capital. Ask around for the Library. One of my colleagues there knows much about the Prophecy and may be able to help you locate that villager.”
As he said this, I tried piecing everything together in my mind.
We’re supposed to help fight against the Eyeless One, otherwise known as Herobrine.
We’ve been given abilities, and we have these things called quests—tasks we’re supposed to complete.
My first quest is meeting up with that villager. A villager I don’t know anything about. Is it a boy or a girl? What’s his or her name? Why do I have to serve that villager, anyway? What, am I just a pack kitten or something? I thought my role in all this would be a bit more glamorous than that.
“My friends really have to stay here?” I asked.
“I believe so. Your quests were given to you by the Immortals themselves. It would be wise to follow them.”
“That’s not fair!” Meowz said. “I don’t want to stay here anymore!”
“You can’t be serious,” Tufty said. “We can learn more about our powers! How cool is that? Besides, don’t you want to help save the world?”
“Yeah, it’s just … I already miss my family.”
“At least you don’t have to go into the Overworld alone,” I said, “looking like this.” I turned to the enderman. “What about Clyde? Can he go with me?”
The endermage avoided my gaze. “Well, I … um … it’s not exactly written in the Prophecy. Plus, I’m not sure whether a ghast could even survive in the Overworld for any length of time.”
Oh, man.
I didn’t want to be a hero anymore. Not without him.
How could I leave my best buddy behind? I’d just caught up with him again!
“There has to be a way,” I said. “I really want Clyde to go with me. He’s so smart. Besides, I know he’ll want to.”
“It’s up to him,” Greyfellow said. “I will warn you that constant exposure to sunlight could weaken him, possibly even kill him.”
“Maybe he’s right,” Meowz said. “Once you return to the Overworld, you’re going to scare enough people as it is. A huge ghast floating behind you certainly won’t help any.”
What will Clyde do once I tell him he can’t go with me? I thought. Maybe it’s for the best. The witches seem to like ghast tears, and after I tell Clyde that he can’t tag along, their inventories will be overflowing with them.
“There’s one more thing I’d like to try,” the enderman said. “Please follow me.”
To our complete amazement, Greyfellow then whirled around … and stepped into the back wall of his house!
Tufty and Meowz had no idea what was going on. But I’d heard about shadow blocks and remembered how you could walk through them. In other words, the endermage w
as taking us to his secret chamber.
Now, I’d never really met a wizard before. At this point, I had no idea that most wizards even had something called “secret chambers,” much less how cool secret chambers might actually be.
I saw a lot of new stuff today and learned a lot of new words. Such as “brewing stand.” And “anvil.” And “crafting table.” And “enchantment table.”
“This is called a rune chamber,” the enderman said. “Do you know what it does?”
I glanced at the giant silvery box. Even though it didn’t look all that scary, it scared me all the same. “Errr, no?”
Tufty wasn’t scared, though. He immediately zoomed inside. “Is this like a house?” he asked, sniffing the silvery material.
Meowz ran inside as well. “Wow,” she said, lifting up her paws, as if the silver material (“iron,” I learned later) was painful to the touch.
She left the box as quickly as she’d entered. “It’s freezing in there!”
“Indeed it is,” the enderman said. “It contains a most powerful form of magic. Only three wizards in all of Minecraftia know how to create such a device.”
“What does it do?” I asked.
“It makes you stronger,” he said. “Stronger than you already are, I mean.”
Stronger than I already am? Even if I didn’t know how it made me stronger, it sounded good to me. Is there any downside to having more super powers? Basically no.
“A rune chamber can permanently enchant an animal or monster,” he said, “granting them additional strength, defense, and so on.”
“What’s ‘enchant’?” Meowz asked.
The enderman shook his head. “Sorry. Not ‘enchant.’ Enchanting is more for items, physical objects. The technical term is ‘enhance.’ A rune chamber can be used to enhance you. But let’s just call it enchanting to make things easier.”
Tufty stepped out of the rune chamber, shivering. “S-so, it m-makes us more p-powerful?”
“Yes. And I would like to see whether it’s possible to affect Chosen Animals.” Greyfellow’s eyes glowed more brightly as he glanced at us. “Are any of you willing to serve as my … test subject?”
Three little paws flew into the air at the same time.
“Me!”
“Me!”
“Me!”
Tufty lumbered toward the chamber again, but Meowz grabbed his tail. “I called it first!” she hissed.
He grumbled. “Whatever. Don’t freeze your tail off, huh?”
With a smirk, the white nether kitten zoomed into the rune chamber. “How long do I have to wait in here?”
“Not too long.” As the enderman said this, a gray window appeared in the air before him. It contained many boxes. In one box was an image of Meowz.
He placed a blue cube into one of the boxes. “That’s called lapis lazuli,” he said. “It’s used for this type of thing.” The cube disappeared, and a flat image of the cube appeared in the box.
“Almost done,” he said. “The process should take only a few seconds.”
Suddenly, there was a bright white flash from inside the chamber. Meowz made the biggest and most terrified-sounding screech before jumping out.
“Mreeeeeeeeeeew! What was that?!“
Greyfellow smiled. “That was you being enchanted.”
“Really? I don’t feel any different.” A screen appeared before her moments later.
“Look,” Tufty said. “Your claws are kind of purple now.”
Meowz held out one of her paws. Indeed, her black claws had a faint violet glow, just like the books Rarg had dropped earlier.
In addition, faint little shapes, almost like weird-looking letters, could be seen upon the surface of her claws. They were also violet, slightly brighter than the glow itself.
“This means I can do more damage?” she asked.
“A little,” Greyfellow said. “Rend I isn’t very powerful. Sadly, you’re not strong enough for anything beyond that.”
Greyfellow turned back to the chamber.
“Okay. Who’s next?”
(10 minutes later …)
So, I’ve been modified with Rend I.
Every bit helps, right?
It feels kind of girly having glowing purple claws, but whatever. I don’t care if my entire body turns bright pink, so long as it means I no longer have to run from wolves.
The rest of the day was spent training. After Tufty and Meowz coughed up their own ghast fireballs, we inched silently across soul sand like creepers, climbed up netherrack walls like spiders, sprinted like zombie pigmen, placed a few items in our inventories, and then swam in that orange fire stuff—err, lava—for over an hour.…
There’s a huge lake of that stuff in the center of the city. The mobs often go swimming there. They call it a “pool.”
And today, that lava pool was filled with hundreds of monsters—a “pool party.”
Swimming in lava was so terrifying at first! It took me ten minutes before I could dip one of my paws in. But it didn’t burn. Didn’t even hurt! Lava is like warm water to me now.
(I still haven’t tried drinking it yet. That’s on my to-do list.)
By the way, Batwing is immune to lava, too! So, I didn’t even need to save him! But he’s terrified of swimming … Greyfellow actually had to push him in.
Clyde was swimming, too.
Yeah, I haven’t told him yet. I keep thinking about how I can say it without hurting his feelings.
I know he’ll want to go with me, and I want him to come too, but … I don’t want him to get hurt. I remember what the sun did to the zombie pigmen and the blazes.
Maybe Clyde could wear a helmet? No, probably not.
Greyfellow could sense how I was feeling. He waded over to me. “Still thinking about your friend, Eeebs?”
“Yes. I’ll miss him. I’ll miss all of them. I’ll even miss you. Thanks for teaching us.”
“I’m glad I could help,” the enderman said. “Listen. Your friend, Clyde. There is a way he could go with you.”
“There is?”
The enderman nodded. “One of the enhancements that rune chambers offer is Sunlight Protection. Shall we ask him about this?”
“I suppose,” I said. “But I want it to be his choice.”
“Of course. Also, I have something you’ll need for your return to the Overworld.”
“What is it?”
“I’ll show you tomorrow. I think you’ll like it.”
The following morning, I was holding one of those bottle things: a “potion.”
“That’s a Potion of Disguise I,” Greyfellow said. “Villager variant. Simply drink it and it will seem as though you are an ordinary villager.”
Clyde stared at the red liquid contained within the glass. “Will Eeebs still be able to use his abilities?”
“Yes. Disguise is merely an illusion. Regardless of which form you take, you’ll still be able to do everything you could before. Go on, Eeebs. Don’t be afraid. Drink up.”
“Whatever,” I said. “Here goes.”
I chugged the potion. The taste … yuck! It was like grass mixed with cobblestone. (Don’t ask how I know what those taste like.)
Thin white smoke appeared all around me. To the gasps of my friends, I glanced down at myself and found pale skin and brown robes instead of dark blue fur.
The endermage smirked. “Of course, you’ll need to practice standing on your hind legs for the illusion to be effective.”
“Right.”
I tried standing up but fell to all fours again.
Meowz began rolling around on the floor: “Hahaha … that’s just … wow, I can’t.…”
Soon, what appeared to be a very real and ordinary villager (me) stood before everyone. Although
I was wobbling around on my feet.
“That potion has a duration of only one hour,” the endermage said, “so I’ll brew half a stack for you. Make sure to drink one before going into any town or village. If you must remain there for any length of time, drink another before the effects wear off.”
“How will I know how much time I have left?” I asked.
“See that icon in the lower left corner of your vision?”
“Got it. Hey, what about Clyde?”
“What about me?” Clyde asked.
“Oh, man.” Batwing lowered his head. “You mean, you guys didn’t tell him yet?!”
“Well, um …”
The ghast sniffled. “Tell me what, Eeebs?”
“I’m going to the Overworld,” I said. “It’s part of my quest.”
A single tear fell down the ghast’s cheek. “I see. So, you’ll be gone for good?”
“No way,” I said. “Come on, Clyde. I’ll come back. The Nether is just as much my home now as the Overworld is.”
“All right. Then I guess there’s no reason to be sad, right?”
“If you want, you can come with me.”
“I can? How?”
The enderman then chimed in with how it was possible to protect him from sunlight. “It won’t make you immune,” he said, “but you’ll be all right.”
“But it’s your choice,” I said. “You have to decide for yourself.”
“Then I’m staying,” Clyde said. “You know the Overworld, Eeebs. It’s best for you to go alone. I’ll stay here and help protect the city in case EnderStar finds us.”
