Look me in the Eyes

What did it all Matter?

Rolburn was back at his anvil, hammering down in his little cave he had dug out for himself. By now, I had forgotten about his project, and was surprised when he began disappearing for long stretches of time, until I heard the clank of each strike he made. The Piglin had stopped talking altogether ever since Quinn's revelation about our world. I couldn't blame him; I had no words either, only a scared determination to stop that female Player from reaching a portal to the End. But what could I do? Nothing I had would destroy anything stronger than a door and I knew Players could mine through almost every substance this world possessed.

For his part, Quinn seemed wavering between states of silent depression and sudden bursts of undirected energy. He spent a lot of time underground in his basement, further expanding it or working at the Enchanting Table and anvil, creating spells of varying strength and application. These he fastened to his armor and tools as he deemed appropriate, though for what purpose I could not yet fathom.

As for myself...I was not sure what to do. A game. My world was a game. But only according to Quinn. Was he right? How could he know? What possible being could have created my entire people, our past, our hatreds and tendencies, our very culture? What could have created the Nether, shaped its past and its people according to some standard unknown to me? Who had the mind to do it all, and(mostly importantly) why? I had the answers to none of these questions. But perhaps another might. I could not ask Quinn, he was too withdrawn for now, and I had not the heart to bring him back only to remind him of reality. Deciding I could trust the two of them to stay down there together, I teleported out of the house one day when clouds covered the sky, when the breeze was cool and the earth smelled of damp grass. It stung a little, but I paid small heed; I wanted to get to Karl as soon as possible, and now was the first chance I had.

Getting from Quinn's home to Hamilton Town was a long process, zipping up and over the mountain, down through the forest and then on in, past the gate. There I kept my eyes off the other Players, not wanting to even leave the possibility of an accidental stare. I walked down the pathways, following each past stores and gardens and houses until I came to what looked like the center of town. I then realized I had no idea what Karl's house looked like. Sighing, I went in search of a Player.

Their directions, given cordially enough to my surprise, directed me to a very simple home, and there I knocked on the door. There was no reply. I frowned, and snapped inside. The whole house consisted of a single room, and it was empty. However, a signpost did stand in the middle of the floor, written in Playerspeak. I bent down to read it.

>Have some things going on, so will be gone a while. Be back soon!<

I shut my eyes in disappointment. If Karl could not answer my questions, who else could I ask? Do I trust any of the others enough to open my fears to them? No. None...except possibly Carter. And if he was not here, I would speak to no one else. But where was Carter? I got up and zipped back outside again.

This time when I asked for assistance, the Player whom I then recognized as Ferdie from the reconciliation at Quinn's house told me he would call Carter himself. He went completely still and I heard nothing at all. Confused, I glanced about, but still nothing was happening. Then Ferdie said, >"Alright, he's coming,"< and waved. >"Anythin' else you need?"<

I shook my head and let him walk away. I was unsure what to make of the encounter. From what I remembered, Ferdie had been one of the more vocally unsure about Rolburn and myself, yet he had helped me without question or apparently reservation. I looked down the path after him, feeling my inner questions only multiply further beyond my ability to answer them.

Carter soon arrived, and he was wearing a pumpkin. I balked a little at his eyeless face, but understood why he had chosen it. At his suggestion, we went to a secluded spot in the town where Carter said we could talk undisturbed. It turned out to be an artificial clearing, where blue and white flowers grew in arranged patterns and a little pool held several fish and a lily pad. Trees stood in silent guardianship, their limbs thrown out over the grass, and a few bees buzzed in the petals of the flowers. Carter sat down on a bench and patted the seat next to him. >"Alright," he said, "what's up?"<