Withering World [MCSM Fanfiction]

INFLAMMATION: Chapter 15

Jesse

Lukas still isn't in the state to be running around freely, so he can only stay in the treehouse, watching or disassociating from all of this. It's been a day, almost twenty-four hours.

He presumably thinks he's a burden. I don't think so, though I'm not sure about Petra. She secretly wants him here. I'm not psychic and it's not obvious, but I know things no one else does about Petra. We've been friends long enough that if she says something like "go away", I know it really translates to "stay here".

The blond coops up by the bookshelf next to his bed, occasionally checking on his ankle and plucking his bowstring in boredom.

After putting on my armor, I'm ready to scale down the ladder and fight, but collide into Petra on the way. Our protective wear clanks together loudly, the metallic noise rebounding off the wooden walls.

I scowl at myself, but she ignores my embarrassing mishap, her attention drawn to an emotionless Lukas instead. "I feel bad for him," she says, dismissing my apology, "I should've helped him rather than waiting by the ladder."

"You did all you could," I say, puzzled at where this is coming from.

"Yesterday when we were fighting mobs, I noticed he was on the floor, singled out by one of them, but we were too busy doing the Warrior Whip. All I could do was tell him to run."

Shame lurks in my conscience. It hadn't even crossed my mind that he was in trouble.

"Jesse, I'm beginning to think, am I a bad friend? What if those years of adventuring alone only taught me it's every player for themselves?"

"Well, at least you're not feral."

Unaware that we stand within Lukas's register, we revert our attention to him who'd just made the feral comment.

"Funny," Petra deadpans.

"What? I'm being serious. Most would've spiraled into insanity by day seven and you lasted two years out there alone. You're still the same civilized, non-animalistic Petra to me. For the record, I think I just need to work on my combat more."

If that doesn't put peace into her mini friendship crisis, I don't know what in the world would.

"If you trust me, I'll be shooting skeletons from the treetops," Lukas finishes before rising to climb to the tree's zenith. "You're vicious, Petra. But you're a good friend, always have been."

Her expression falters and eventually relaxes, smile more genuine, eyes effervescent. After nodding contently, she turns her head back to me. "Ready to go?" She asks, edging towards the trapdoor.

"Let's do this."

----

The blacksmiths who crafted our armor laid no warning on their durability. They haven't broken just yet, but I feel the disarranged dents uncomfortably jabbing my body, some potentially deep enough to cause bruises.

"Or maybe you're just doing bad enough to keep getting hit all the time," Petra laughs, stabbing another skeleton out of existence.

"Oh, come on," I say, abruptly cut off by a bony creature's attack. It strikes at me with one ferocious swoop, and I duck in the nick of time. "That's not fair since you train more. Just give me time to get it back and I'll be slaying mobs the size of giants."

"Sure, Jesse... duck!"

Delayed by a second, a whistling arrow fires into the chest of the wither skeleton as Petra's about to slaughter it.

"Thanks, Lukas, but that was totally mine!" Her statement's not loud enough to reach him though it makes sense - she was talking to herself.

It doesn't take long for our stamina to drain and for the labor to become as tedious as the paperwork in my office.

Once we hit the half an hour mark, my quadriceps function as if they were axed. My arms almost give out and cold, acidic sores seize my throat. Blood pounds wildly against the flesh of my ears. The sweat that I shed all over my body makes my armor stick to my skin and then untimely rip off when I least expect it.

"This is gonna take forever," I say, raising my voice to be heard by Petra.

"Is this your way of requesting a break?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"Y'know, I'm a little sapped too. But we haven't got anything yet and-" her breath falls short, "-we've been fighting for ages."

Even Lukas signals us to retreat and collect ourselves. His arm is visibly fatigued. The goggles on his head droop over his hairline.

"We have the whole day." I turn back to Petra while wrestling with a dusky, slender mob. Another multitude of arrows fall around us, a destructive hail with one that lands in the back of the skeleton I fight.

"Okay, alright," she accepts, communicating to Lukas to prep the trapdoor. "Go ahead, Jesse. I'll be right behind you."

Apart from a lifetime supply of coal and bones, we've earned nothing.

I flee the horde, taking for the ladder until a wither skeleton emerges from behind the tree, trapping me. Caught off guard, it bashes down with its sword on my pauldron and I cry out in terror. Its blows come at me faster than most, but whenever it dodges me, its elbow signifies its weak point.

"Jesse, what's taking so long?"

"Wait a sec-" I huff, lurching forward land a hit on the humanoid's arm.

Once. Twice. I lash at it three times before it finally surrenders to death.

Under the hovering smoke, my eyes catch the loot it unhands. My jaw drops in disbelief.

"What's the hold-up?" Petra repeats, still fending off the ones approaching.

My pockets are emptied as I dig out gloves to pull down over my hands. As soon as I do, I collect the ground's offering - a withered sword - and grapple onto the ladder, apologizing to Petra simultaneously.

"Wait, is that a-"

"A sword? Yup."

No skeletons try tugging us down this time, the tree safer to climb. Lukas patiently waits for the two of us to resurface so that when we do, he affirms us for the accomplishment.

He's in the middle of rearranging the treehouse, the crafting table, furnaces, and bookshelves being shuffled about. Crafting us something to eat, he also presents to us the sample briefcase with triumph, and I gently place the dark weapon inside.

"One item down, one more to go."

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