Hero's Bane

Chapter 84: As Distant As He

The pale white light of the full moon rising over the horizon graced Steve's battered body, the light filtered from the large window behind the bed and shined down on his passive face and upper torso; reflecting its soft ashen glow. Herobrine gazed down at the unconscious miner pensively, he had wrapped the wounds up well but the number of wool bindings wasn't acceptable; he had caused the majority of the injuries and that was nothing to be proud of. He was fortunate that the human lived in spite of the things that were done to him; if Steve was not as considerate to swim out in the well and pull him out of the water tainted by his blood then the miner would have been dead, there was no doubt in that.

The powerful man standing by the bedside squeezed his hands tight with a toothy sneer, he felt the soft moist fabric in his right hand scrunch inward from the pressure. This was his fault, being a coward had brought him so low to actually attempt to kill the guy when all he did was try and help him; even if there were risks involved. That was all Steve had been trying to do right before his arrival in the Nether, is help him in some way or convince him to free himself of a life and debt he no longer wanted; and yet he was awarded such bodily damage he obviously did not deserve. Though he did talk to the creator and seem like a traitor in doing so; his intentions have always been for the better, so selfless. It was ridiculous how a mere mortal could be so kind after taking relentless tides of torment, anybody else would have put him down when they had the chance.

And just how many times had he already tried to kill this one? Herobrine knew it was few but it felt as though he had many times; starting from encountering this human for the first time- then all the way up until now, it's been weeks since. He pushed the man to his utmost limits in fear and endurance and fought him to the death; literally, it wasn't a hard final battle because of prior injuries and unrest but still-. The mortal lives through the tough odds and somehow sways his enemy's intent with something as small as a smile or just a few words, and that's after everything done to him both mentally and physically. Steve is certainly one of a kind.

One worthy of being called a brother.

Herobrine suddenly snorted and tossed the balled-up fabric from his hand to the end of the large bed at the miner's feet. There now laid his tethered cyan shirt stained with splotches of reddish-brown; still holding together and proof of such suffering that was underwent. Even a few small burns were present; along with a few large slashes and a couple of noticeable holes, it was in pieces and yet still whole somehow. Like a fighting spirit that has been whipped, cut, stabbed, lashed at, burned, and worn until it was thin; virtually broken, yet it still holds together. But it can only hold for so much longer before it is nothing but bits and pieces, this mortal's life is already hanging in the balance; one final push could end him for good. Leaving the miner to face such a deadly fate was tough to ignore, but here he stood; spineless and bound to a monster whom he has come to despise despite how understanding and civil he used to be to the same entity.

-It is 'I' that is not worthy of calling you a title that I only gave to Lionel and no one else, I do not deserve to be someone of such importance to you.- Herobrine thought bitterly to himself as he ebbed further from the end of the bed until he stood in shadow; hiding just out of reach of the moon's stretching light. -Not even a friend.- He finished with an even more upset tone. -To leave you to face such a power that would easily crush your own, ... this is truly selfish. I don't know what to do, training alone will certainly not be enough; even lending my blades would do little to bring about a positive outcome. So foolish, so headstrong; I must respect that, my only other friend was like that too. So tied to your goals and promises, I commend such nobility; I only wish I had a kind such as yours for my own. But I lack it and I'm bound to a pact, forgive me for that.-

The White-Eyed being turned away from the sleeping moral and left the room with a slow amble, he walked through the doorway and came to a stop as his hand reached the door. He turned his head back and gave a long glance to Steve, he could have easily entered the man's dreams and made sure that he was dreaming well; seeing as he would likely have a few more before his demise, but he could tell on the man's passive face that there was no need to disturb his rest. Actually, he wasn't going to let anything disrupt the miner's sleep so long as he could prevent it. Steve did deserve this of him; the best treatment and preparation for a great battle, he deserved to be happy and well-rested in any way possible whilst he was still alive.