Herobrine's Legacy (The Wielder Chronicles Book Three)

Chapter 13 || Unlucky For Some

Chapter 13 || Unlucky For Some

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- Unknown POV -

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The Dragon was restless.

It had not been that way for some time; it was usually stoic, chained and miserable, choosing to remain in silence rather than fight an unwinnable battle to break free. The General was the only one who saw it; the General was the only one who spoke with it. Its wings were hidden from all eyes apart from hers.

But we could tell when it wasn't happy. After all, its life force was connected directly to ours- we felt its pain and its energy. Its unsettled mind pulsed through ours, and so turned us troubled, too. We were all connected. We were all a single power.

The Dragon's wings were restless; they ached for vengeance, for death and for agony. To shatter Light's chains.

We would obey its will.

"We must retrieve the Blade as soon as possible," the General stated with supremacy. "The Dragon grows increasingly tired of this realm."

I nodded in agreement. She continued. "The humans will be on high alert after the loss we suffered at the boy's school. Now, we have three awakened Wielders and two Endermen traitors to deal with - not to mention that the Stars have placed their faith in Kai Dare's ability. The Stars. Those dead empty spirits are something we must face, now." Her tone was disgusted.

I wondered if, perhaps, she was thinking of her brother. He could be a Star; if not that, he was a Ghost, travelling the abstract corners of the world in a hollow existence.

All dead became either Stars or Ghosts. The majority belonged to the sky as Stars; the select few scoundrels became Ghosts, and were cursed to half a life for eternity. Herobrine had been a scoundrel. He would probably be a Ghost, like Alex had been before his liberation.

"I have little power over the Stars, but they have none over me either - their power is embodied through the Guardian. As long as the Guardian is not realised, we will win this war," The General said, eyes hard and face as cold as stone.

This talk of Guardians confused me. "General, what is a Guardian?"

She glared at me, but answered anyway. "There is always a Guardian on this earth. They are selected when they are born, and their duty is to protect the Blade. The Creator himself chooses them. They have mostly been rendered useless over the generations, however, because the Blade has remained hidden for longer than most remember. Even a Guardian has no sense of the Blade's location, despite being tied directly to it."

I was still doubtful. "Then a Guardian, according to what you're saying, is quite useless," I said. "They protect the Blade, yes, but with what?"

The General's purple eyes grew darker. "They are the carrier of Light. They have the ability within themselves to repair the Dragon's chains, if they are ever broken. The Creator's power flows through their veins."

I stiffened; I understood her concern now. A mortal like that could be the ruin of all the Dragon's plans.

"As long as the Guardian is not found, we will be safe. Until then, we must move quickly to keep ahead of the Stars' meddling."

"General?" I cautiously inquired. "Do you know of who the Guardian may be?"

Even while she was thinking, her face remained stoic and frozen, unable to display emotion that wasn't anger or irritance. "The last Guardian I know of was Clare Jones, one of Herobrine's followers. She died many years ago. It is likely that her successor is someone who inhibits similar traits to hers - cunning, determination, strength."