The Jungle Temple Oracle

by Mark Cheverton

  Hunter looked at Gameknight, then slowly put away her bow.

  “So . . . we’re here because of . . .” Hunter said but was interrupted.

  “I know why you have come,” the Oracle said.

  “Oh really?” Hunter asked.

  “Yes,” the old woman replied. “You have come here because of your nemesis, Herobrine.”

  “You know where he is?” Crafter asked, finally come back to his senses.

  “Yes,” she replied. “I can sense him through the tree leaves. Many, many years ago, I modified the code for the trees so I could track his position, using the leaves to sense his presence. In addition, when I created my wolves, I sent them out to watch for Herobrine across all the server planes, attacking him at every opportunity.”

  Herder instantly perked up at the mention of the wolves.

  “Yes, Herder,” the Oracle said, “I created your little friends.”

  Herder’s eyes grew wide in amazement, then flicked toward the dark tunnel that pierced the wall of the chamber.

  “Of course,” she answered him, somehow hearing his unasked question. “Go visit with my friends. They will accept you as all animals do in Minecraft.”

  The lanky youth took a step toward the tunnel, then turned back and looked at Gameknight999.

  “Go on,” Gameknight said. “We’re OK here, for now.”

  Giving him a huge grin, Herder sprinted off across the chamber and into the dark tunnel. Instantly, Gameknight could hear the barking of what sounded like a huge pack of wolves, their excited howls resonating throughout the chamber.

  Looking back to the Oracle, Gameknight saw that she was smiling.

  “He is a good boy,” the old woman said. “You have done well, accepting him as he is.”

  “He is part of our community,” Crafter said proudly, “and a trusted friend.”

  The Oracle smiled and nodded her head.

  “This is all well and good, but we didn’t come here to play with a bunch of dogs,” Herder said. “We need something to help us defeat Herobrine. I’m sure his whole army is on their way toward us right now.”

  “They are already here,” the Oracle said. “They were here before your journey even began.”

  “What?” Hunter snapped as she fitted an arrow to her bow.

  “Relax, you are safe within these walls,” the Oracle said.

  “But what about our friends outside these walls?” Gameknight asked. “We have to protect them, and we must defeat Herobrine. He wants to escape from the Minecraft servers and move into the physical world . . . I cannot allow that.”

  “I know,” the Oracle responded.

  “And I don’t know how to defeat him,” the User-that-is-not-a-user explained. “He’s too fast with those teleportation powers. I never know where he is or where he will attack next.”

  “I know,” she said again.

  “We need something that will help us destroy him,” Gameknight said, now pleading. “The safety of the physical world and the safety of Minecraft are paramount, but we don’t know how to stop him.”

  “I know.”

  “You keep saying ‘I know . . . I know,’ but I don’t hear you saying that you’ll help us,” Hunter said. “Was this just a waste of time coming here? There are monsters on their way here, you said so yourself, and they need to be destroyed. But first we need a way to take care of Herobrine. Are you going to help?”

  “Long have I watched you, Hunter,” the Oracle said, then sighed. “A terrible thing . . . what happened to your family. You are now filled with such hate and violence that eventually your thirst for vengeance will consume the wonderful person you are until all that is left is pain and death. You walk a dangerous path.”

  “What?” Hunter asked, confused. “This isn’t about me, this is about killing all those monsters.”

  “You seek violence before you seek understanding,” the Oracle said. “These creatures are not coming here by choice; they are being driven here by Herobrine.”

  “I don’t care why they are coming . . . they are monsters, so they should be destroyed. We cannot trust them or live with them or leave them alone because eventually they will attack us,” Hunter yelled, taking a step closer to the old NPC.

  “Perhaps they think the same thing about you,” the Oracle replied.

  “Who cares what they think? They are monsters and we have nothing in common with them!”

  “You only have nothing in common when you don’t look,” the old woman replied, her scratchy voice sounding aged and wise. “Hunter, you have mastered the Land of Dreams as no other has in the history of Minecraft. For that I am proud of you.”

  The old woman then glanced at Monet113 and smiled a knowing smile. Monet looked away quickly as if caught doing something wrong. Gameknight looked down at his sister, then back to the Oracle, confused.

  “But I do not have a secret weapon that will defeat Herobrine for you,” the old woman said.

  “Well, this was a great idea coming here!” Hunter snapped, glaring at Crafter and Gameknight999.

  “However,” the Oracle continued, “I have half the weapon you need.”

  Reaching into her inventory, she pulled out what looked like an egg. It was shaped like one of the spider’s eggs that Gameknight had seen in Shaikulud’s nest, round at one end, narrowing slightly at the other. But this one was shaded a rosy color, almost a light pink, but with spots all across the surface. Holding it carefully with both hands, the Oracle extended it toward the User-that-is-not-a-user.

  “What is it?” Gameknight asked.

  “Hope,” she replied.

  Stepping forward, he reached out and took it from the old wrinkled hands. Inspecting its surface, Gameknight999 expected to see some kind of button or switch he could push to make it transform into something else . . . something useful . . . but saw none. Turning it over in his hands, he looked carefully at the surface, then held it out for Crafter to take.

  “NO!” snapped the Oracle. “This weapon is for the hands of the User-that-is-not-a-user. Only he can wield it, if he can figure out how.”

  Gameknight looked at Crafter, hoping his wise friend would give him some kind of answer, but his big blue eyes showed the confusion that Gameknight felt. Looking to Hunter, Gameknight thought he might ask her if she had any ideas.

  “They cannot tell you anything,” the Oracle said, somehow hearing his very thoughts. Then she raised her voice so that it resonated throughout the chamber. “Gameknight999, this is a weapon that can only be used once. If it is used at the wrong time, then it will fail and you will fail. If it is used incorrectly, then it will fail and you will fail.”

  She gazed into Gameknight’s eyes with an intensity that made him want to look away, but for some reason he could not. With their eyes locked, she leaned forward slightly, then continued in a low, ominous voice.

  “You must have the wisdom to know when and how to use this weapon. The entire world, both Minecraft and physical, teeters on a razor’s edge, and any mistakes will plunge both into misery and despair. Everything depends on the wisdom of the User-that-is-not-a-user.”

  And then, as her words echoed within Gameknight’s mind, the Oracle grew silent.

  “Well . . . no pressure here,” Hunter said with a smile.

  “Hunter, be quiet!” Crafter snapped.

  Gameknight looked down at the weapon in his hands and imagined how he might use it. Closing his eyes, he let his senses drift across the egg, feeling for its secrets . . . but he came up with nothing. No ideas on how to use it, no clever tricks, no wisdom . . . nothing.

  Shaking his head, he carefully put the egg into his inventory.

  “OK, you know what to do?” Hunter asked.

  Uncertain, Gameknight lowered his gaze to the ground, embarrassed at his lack of understanding . . . his failure.

  “Perhaps he will come to understand, over time,” the Oracle said.

  “You’re a big help,” Hunter snapped, her voice dripping with sarca
sm.

  “Hunter . . . be respectful,” Crafter snapped.

  “Well?” she replied as she spun around and headed back to the stairs, her red hair flinging through the air like a crimson wave.

  Stopping at the foot of the stairs, Hunter glanced over her shoulder at the Oracle.

  “We need to get back to our friends on the surface,” she said as she shifted her bow from her right hand to her left. “Is the passageway open?”

  The Oracle closed her eyes for a moment. The sound of stone grinding against stone reverberated through the temple for a moment, then stopped.

  “You can now leave,” the old woman said.

  “Great,” Hunter replied, then turned to face her companions. “Let’s get to the surface. We need to make sure everything is ready when Herobrine gets here.” She then pointed at Gameknight999 with her bow. “You need to figure out how to make that weapon work by then or it’s game over . . . you got that?”

  Gameknight nodded, fear and uncertainty filling his entire being.

  How am I going to do this? he thought. I don’t have the faintest idea what to do with this egg-thing. All of them are relying on me, expecting me to be some kind of expert. But I’m not . . . I’m just a kid. What am I going to do?

  Be patient and have faith, a voice said from somewhere else in his mind.

  Turning, he looked at the Oracle and found that she had a wry smile on her face.

  “What do you mean ‘Have faith’?!” he snapped, frustrated at her lack of help.

  “Have faith in those around you,” the Oracle said. “Even the smallest and youngest have something to contribute. Aid will come to you from the most unexpected of places.”

  “You talk in riddles,” Gameknight complained as he turned and followed Hunter up the stairs, Monet and Crafter fast on his heels.

  As he climbed the stairs, Gameknight looked one last time upon the Oracle. Her long gray hair seemed to be glowing in the torchlight of the ornate cavern. But as he gazed at her, he could feel his own doubt circling him like a pack of wolves ready to attack.

  CHAPTER 19

  THE JAWS SNAP SHUT

  When Gameknight999 walked out of the temple, he found the landscape clothed in darkness; the sun was now completely hidden behind the horizon. That concerned him, but what worried him more were the looks on all the NPCs’ faces; they were filled with panic and desperation . . . as if the battle was already lost.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he stepped out of the musty entrance.

  “The scouts say that there are two huge armies of spiders heading straight for us,” Teacher said.

  Looking back at the temple, Gameknight could see Digger and Crafter emerging from the entrance. In the darkness, the torches that had been placed around the structure made it stand out like some kind of sacred monument, the torches driving away the shadow of night.

  Surrounding the temple, Gameknight could see the villagers had built a series of walls. Stone, brick, cobblestone, and dirt were used all around their position; anything that would make a useful obstacle for the monsters that were slowly closing in on them. Off to the sides of the temple, he could see tall archer towers that had been built out of cobblestone and dirt, a cluster of sharp arrows pointing outward from its peak. Near the base of each tower were TNT cannons, each pointing in a different direction so as to cover a larger field of fire. Around the cannons, the villagers had put large areas of soul sand; the rusty blocks would hopefully slow the advance of any attackers.

  I wonder where they got all that soul sand? Gameknight thought. He figured the answer was probably his friend, Shawny.

  Gameknight smiled.

  In front of the temple, the NPCs had cleared a huge part of the jungle away, making it necessary for the monsters to cross a large open area. Torches had been planted all throughout the clearing, giving the villagers brightly lit targets at which to shoot. The flaming lights flickered in the wind, painting the landscape with a curious brush; large circles of golden illumination dotted the shadowy landscape like huge bright splotches on a painter’s canvas. Hopefully, those circles of light would make the monsters easier to see . . . and destroy.

  Woven throughout the clearing were wide bands of gravel. Gameknight knew that the villagers had likely made redstone traps as they had in their own village. He could see a building made of cobblestone right near the temple entrance. Inside, he could see levers mounted on the walls, thin lines of redstone leading to each. Across the windows of the structure were iron bars. They would allow the operator to watch the battle but be free from attack.

  The villagers had been busy.

  “You all did fantastic!” Gameknight yelled.

  The NPCs beamed as they wiped their sweaty brows. Many were still adding blocks to walls while another group was carving a deep channel into the river that surrounded the temple, making it more difficult to wade through.

  Suddenly, Hunter was at his side.

  “They did a good job, didn’t they?” she asked.

  “Yes they did,” Gameknight answered, but then he leaned close and lowered his voice. “The problem is that we’re stuck here. We have no mobility, no ability to change the location of the battle. Essentially we are trapped with our backs against the sea.” He looked around to make sure that nobody else could hear him. “Herobrine can keep sending wave after wave of monsters at us, and we can’t do anything but fight until we are slowly whittled down to nothing. I’ve seen how many monsters he has for this fight, and we can’t win.”

  Hunter looked at him and then gave him one of her crazed smiles.

  “Hey . . . have faith,” she said. “Look at all these people around you. Can’t you see the hunger in their eyes?” Hunter then raised her voice so that all could hear. “Herobrine can send as many creatures as he wants against these defenses. They will crash against our walls and be pushed back over and over.”

  Many of the NPCs cheered.

  “You see?” she said as she turned back to Gameknight999. “No big deal.”

  “What are you talking about?” he said quietly. “It’s not the spiders that concern me, even though I’ve seen how many they have, and surviving that army will be a miracle. But let’s say, just for fun, that we are able to defeat the spiders. What do we do about Herobrine?”

  He then leaned close and whispered in her ear. “With his teleportation powers, he could just zip around and attack us one at a time, and we’d have no way to stop him.” Gameknight then peered into her dark brown eyes, her curly red hair lit by a nearby torch and creating a crimson halo around her square head. “What am I going to do?”

  “You’re going to do what you always do,” she said.

  “And what’s that?”

  “You’ll figure it out at the last second, and then do something crazy that will save the day,” Hunter explained. “That’s what you do . . . that’s what makes you the User-that-is-not-a-user. So you got nothing to worry about. Just be patient and wait for that inspiration that always seems to come when everything looks the bleakest. Though I wouldn’t mind if you figured it out a little earlier.”

  She smiled and slapped him on the back, then ran off, laughing, her enchanted bow casting off a blue iridescent glow in the darkness.

  Turning back to the temple, he found Monet standing near the entrance, Stitcher at her side. Running to them, he caught the pair just as they were about to run off and take up position amidst the defenders.

  “Monet, Stitcher . . . wait!” Gameknight yelled as he approached.

  “What’s up, bro?” his sister asked.

  “Where are you two going?” he asked.

  “We have a nice spot staked out up in the archer tower on the left,” Stitcher said as she pulled out her bow. Waves of magic rippled along its length, shading her face with a blue glow.

  “Not Monet,” Gameknight said.

  Turning, he found that his sister had pulled her bow out as well, and it too was enchanted.

  “How did you get that
?” he asked. “I saw Hunter and she had her own bow.”

  “Some of the scouts came across a few skeletons,” Monet113 explained. “One of them had this nice weapon, and they figured I could use it.”

  Gameknight nodded his head, but then grabbed her arm as she tried to walk off.

  “No you don’t,” he commanded. “You aren’t going out there. Dad made me responsible for you whether I like it or not, and out there in the middle of this battle will be the most dangerous place to be.”

  “You still don’t trust me, do you?” Monet asked as she glared at her brother, refusing to back down.

  “It’s not about trust, it’s about responsibility. Dad put me in charge because he had to be gone . . . as usual. I don’t want this responsibility, but I’m stuck with it. Now, I’m going to give you a task, and if you don’t listen to me, then I’ll have one of the NPCs make sure you are put somewhere safe.”

  Looking to his right, he caught the eye of Smithy and motioned him to come near. The big NPC with the dusty apron ran to his side and waited patiently. Monet glanced at the blacksmith, then sighed and nodded her head.

  “Excellent,” Gameknight said. “Now, your job is to guard the Oracle. Go back into the temple and stay in there until I call for you.”

  “But I can help!” she shouted.

  “No offense, Monet, but what difference could one arrow make in this battle? Look around you.” He gestured to the NPCs finishing up their preparations. “These villagers are ready for what is about to happen; it has been a part of their lives for years. But you . . . you know nothing about war, about fighting. Your one arrow will make no difference in this battle. Now do as I asked.”

  “But . . .” she complained, but Gameknight turned and glanced at Smithy. The blacksmith took a step forward and glared down at Monet113.

  “Fine!” she snapped and sulked back into the temple.

  After watching his sister slowly shuffle into the temple, Gameknight turned and faced Stitcher.

  “You know, you’re wrong about her,” Stitcher said.

  “What do you mean?” Gameknight asked. “I have to take care of her, that’s my responsibility. So what else can I do other than put her somewhere safe?”