Heyo my Edgelings!
I'm finally done moving and it's good to be back! I will now return to my usual once a week schedule!
I hope you have fun reading this chapter, cause I sure had fun writing it!!!!
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From the west coast of the Main Continent to the sprawling grasslands in the east, a grand mountain range stretches across the North, separating the southern taiga from the northern tundra, and serving as a natural border for the human kingdom. The mountains are towering and jagged, like rocky teeth protruding from the cold ground. The peaks are capped in pure white snow, untouched by the footprints of any creature, the elevation too high for even the mountain goats built for such climates.
Chunks away from the coast, nestled on the southern side of the range, was a large stone plateau raised high above the taiga. Smoke from hundreds of campfires rose into the cold cloudy sky, and the plateau was covered in a multicolored blanket of tents.
Down amidst the tents, two men, one dressed in a gold-trimmed white shirt and the other in a blue-trimmed white shirt, both wearing coats. They spoke in low voices as they weaved between the shelters and campfires, making their way towards the Royal Tents.
"When did you say the foot soldiers are going to arrive?" Nilan asked, his gold-trimmed garments flapping in the chill wind, his thick fur coat wrapped tightly around his thin, muscled torso.
"They should be here either tomorrow or the next day. The battlements will be a couple days behind them." Cedrick replied, holding his warm hood up with one hand to prevent the wind from blowing it down. The fluffy grey hood exaggerated his extraordinary height.
"Smart of you to set out in segments. If we were in dire straights, it could've prevented a catastrophy." Nilan complemented.
"It was Juliara's idea." Cedrick smiled, but then his face resumed its seriousness, "What do you think he's waiting for? It's been over two weeks, correct?"
"I have been pondering that myself. His army didn't suffer any casualties at the last battle. In fact, it grew. In theory, he should've continued the attack, chasing us back to camp while we were retreating. I do not understand his reasons for holding back."
"That is odd..."
"The King has suggested that the Ex-prince is trying to catch us off guard, hoping that our troops will relax if he waits long enough."
"Was the Ex-prince himself injured?"
"Yes, he was dealt several fatal blows, but continued to fight anyways, singlehandedly taking out dozens of our men. He is undead, so I assume he cannot be killed by normal methods."
"Is it possible that perhaps such wounds can't kill him, but do weaken him over time? Maybe he needs to heal before attacking again." Cedrick contemplated.
"Mmmm..." Nilan hummed, searching this hypothesis for errors, "That is indeed a possibility. But we don't know how long it takes him to heal, so we still have no way of predicting his next attack. He has always been a bit unpredictable."
After a moment of thoughtful silence, Cedrick asked, "Why is he back? And how?"
"I don't know. I have a feeling that the King knows more than he is letting us believe, but he refuses to talk about his brother, so as of now, you know as much as I do." Nilan shrugged.
"Hmph." Cedrick huffs, "Well, have you sent any scouts to track down his location?"
"Our very best, but his trail ends at the base of a mountain a couple days east of here."
Cedricks brows furrow in confusion, "How does an army disappear?"
Nilan sneered, "By the same sort of dark magic that brought it forth, I suppose. The entire mountain and every cave in it has been throughly gleened. They can't find a trace of them."
"How deep did they go?"
"All the way down to deepslate. The only notable things they found were a couple mob spawners, a vast abandoned mineshaft system running through this entire section of the Northern Mountains, and the beginnings of an Ancient City."
"I'm guessing that's where they ended their search?"
"Indeed, three scouts against a Warden are not good odds."
"A dozen well-trained warriors against a Warden aren't good odds." Cedrick added.
"Precisely." Nilan nodded.
"How's that guy who lost his family been?" Cedrick inquired, remembering that the Queen had asked him to check up on the man. Shoot! He forgot his name...
"Which one? That pretty much describes half the army." Nilan chuckled humorlessly.
Cedrick rolled his eyes, "You know who I mean."
"Yes, yes. Emmet has been faring well. He's been helpful in navigating the region and predicting the weather patterns. Turns out it's hard to come by someone with any knowledge on the North. I sent out several scouts to check on other villages close to the border, and there's not a single one left untouched until you get to Windcrest to the south."
Cedrick eyes widened, and he whistled low, "How many villages is that?!?!"
"Twenty-three," Nilan answered, not even flinching. "There aren't very many here in the North, but the estimated loss just from those villages is two thousand."
"Great Notch!!! And that's how the Ex-prince made his army? By raising them up as Undead?"
"Indeed, his strength is far greater than what he revealed to us during that one battle. He only had about two hundred there. That makes me believe that he is only toying with us, and has some bigger plan in store. The King, on the other hand, is convinced that he wouldn't think to plan ahead like that. He believes that Brine has simply gone mad, and that explains his strange strategy."
"And you disagree?" Cedrick questioned with an arched eyebrow.
Nilan side-glanced at the First General, then sighed, "I'm afraid to say that I do. His behavior suggests that he has gone mad, I'll admit that. But his previous actions, such as the way he carefully took out village after village with such a high success rate that there is only one known survivor? That is far too organized for someone who is completely mad. He is either faning insanity so that we will underestimate him, or..." Nilan trailed off into silence.
"...Or?" Cedrick prompted after a second.
"Or it is possible that he is working for someone else, such as the Necromancers. That he is simply following their plan."
"He is undead, so that does make sense, but we have no way of knowing for sure..."
"That is why preparing is so difficult. We know next to nothing about our enemy, and have almost no way to predict his next move." Nilan huffed in frustration, then stopped abruptly in front of a diamond blue tent. "We're here."
They entered the meeting tent and found it full of lower ranking generals gathered around the map table in the center, dicussing plans amidst themselves. Off to the side, the King was quietly speaking with a man in a thick green tunic.
Cedrick recognized him immediately. Emmet.
".. and your ribs aren't healed yet. I believe it is best if you do as I said to begin with and go tell another scout to complete this mission." the King continued in a low tone as his two highest military officers approached.
"I assure you, your Highness, I will be fine! I have been at the base of them before, and I know the quickest paths to get me there. I will be faster than any of your other scouts, and time is of the essence." Emmet pleaded, not taking his determined eyes off of the King as the others came near.
"Fine," Steve relented, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You have leave to retieve a horse and set out as soon as possible. The supplies have already been prepared and are in saddle bags at the entrance of the tackle tent."
"Thank you, your Majesty! I won't let you down!" Emmet said brightly as he quickly headed to the entrance flap, walking past Nilan and Cedrick without a second glance.
"Arguing with you again is he?" Nilan commented disapprovingly, " What is this mission he's setting off on?"
"Evening Nilan, and welcome Cedrick! I hope your forces have settled in well. I just sent Emmet off to seek weaponary from the Floating Isles."
"Thank you, your Majesty. The new calvary regiments have already set up camp." Cedrick smiled warmly.
"Don't the Floating Isles unofficially consider themselves independent?" Nilan asked.
"Perhaps, but they are within my kingdom, and as such are under my rule. If they wish to become otherwise then it would be considered treason, and they would have to contend with our armies as soon as we are out of this mess. Besides, enchanted weapons will be extremely useful in the coming fight." Steve directed his attention back to Cedrick, "Speaking of which, did you bring the inherited weapons?"
"I did, sire. They will arrive with the heavy weaponary in a few days."
"Good, the powerful weapons of our ancestors will help us turn the tide in this war." Steve nodded.
"It's a shame that enchanting has become a lost art, and we must turn to the finicky people of the Isles to obtain such things." Nilan commented haughtily.
Steve sighed, "You're very right. But in times like these, we must be prepared for anything."
"Yes, your majesty!" Both High Commander and First General saluted in sync.
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You smile slightly as you lean against the warm blackstone wall, waiting outside Hero's room for him to take his bandages off one last time. Two weeks... only two weeks and every single wound was completely healed! The speed of his recovery astonishes you, especially considering his wounds had appeared healed almost a week ago, but he told you he was still having some internal pain, so you kept the bandages on and made him stay in his room. Your only concern now is that he hasn't eaten anything, but then again, you've never seen him eat anything ever, so your guess is he just doesn't need to.
You stopped staying with him to comfort him a long time ago, as soon as he became strong enough to change his own bandages. You couldn't help but feel bored during the day. The only thing to do is go listen to Hearings with Poggo, which you don't particularly enjoy. You want to go explore the Nether, but your post is here in the Great Hall, and you are obligated to remain within its walls unless you are going to monitor the war.
That had been the Council's instructions to you the last two times you went back to report. You are supposed to observe the next battle to verify that no Endermen are endangered. Some members seem anxious and worried, like Tkeerah, about the prospect of a IV Interdimensional War, others seem to approve of the idea, believing the humans need to be stamped out, and still others, including most of the highest Council members, are entirely indifferent on the whole situation unless it somehow ends up involving your kind.
The bickering voices of Council members still ring in your ears. You had no idea that the Council was so divided until you became Keeper. The dizzying scope of feuding politics is brand new to you, and it confuses you to realize that the same people who preached to all Enderkind that Unity is one of the Three Major Principles, didn't follow their own teachings. When you first walked in, they had all been calm, but then they started talking about the war, and began yelling heatedly at each other, breaking yet another Principle, Respect. It shakes you slightly... more than slightly...
Abruptly, the chamber door swings inward with a screech, and you jump at the sudden noise. Herobrine struts out with a bounce in his step, eyes glowing brightly and his characteristic crooked, sharp-toothed smirk stretching across his lightly tanned face. He grabs his hands above his head and leans backward, sighing happily as his back pops. "Nether! It feels good to be up again!" he turns his attention to you and you swear his eyes glow brighter, "What's up Spitfire? Did I miss anything?"
You can't help but chuckle at his cheerfulness, "Nothing but more very interesting Hearings as far as I know."
"Ah yes... Poor Poggo huh?" He chuckles slightly, not sounding the least bit sympathetic.
"He actually seems to enjoy it, oddly enough. He joins right in the arguments, and seems only happy to stir the conflict. By the end of it, both sides are so busy arguing with him that they seem to forget what they even came in for, so I guess it works."
"Mm. Sounds about right. Poggo doesn't stop until he's proven his point. Annoying sometimes..."
"I suppose it can come in handy though," You suddenly notice something odd about Hero's appearance. Is he...is he wearing his old clothes? He is! It's that same teal t-shirt and indigo pants! What? How?
Your staring becomes noticed as Hero arches an eyebrow and comments with that same devilish smirk, "Watcha looking at?"
Your stomach drops and your chest begins to glow at the remark, and you quickly brush it off, "I was just wondering how you got those same clothes back, and also where the Piglin ones went. I personally saw Poggo throw that shredded outfit into the lava, but now you have it back on. How?"
"Oh, well, the clothes that Poggo found for me are back in the room," he says, pointing his thumb behind him, "and these? For some reason my clothes... grow back... I don't know how it works or why."
"Oh..." you reply, still confused. You suddenly remember something that you have been wanting to ask him about, "And also... Why is the skin on your torso black?"
He blinks, processing how to answer, a strange look quickly flashing across his face before disappearing, "Well... uh... it just sometimes grows back like that... I... uh... don't know why." His voice sounds nervous for some reason, and you assume that it's because you're asking too many questions... he doesn't like questions...
You open your mouth to apologize when he suddenly changes the subject back, "I guess my clothes growing back comes in handy. If they didn't I would've been naked after I fell in that lava-"
"You fell in lava?!?! When?!?!" You exclaim, knowing he isn't as fireproof as you are. How did he get out?!
"It was... a long time... ago..." Herobrine stutters, his glowing eyes flickering slightly. Crazy the little details you begin to notice when you're around someone a lot. But wait! Why are his eyes flickering?! That usually only happens when he's...
...in pain.
"Oh no..." you murmur under your breath, your red eyes going wide when his breath begins to come out in fast, short gasps. Not this again!
"Shoot! I'm sorry Hero, I didn't mean to bring something up!" You quickly try to apologize, but he doesn't seem to hear you, already lost in the throws of a painful traumatic flashback. His eyes are dim and glazed over, and he sways as if about to fall down.
Soulsand and Sulfur! This is all your fault!
You jolt as his arms jerk up, fingers curled into grasping claw shapes, desperately trying to reach for something that isn't there, grabbing at thin air as if trying to hold on to it. You're sickened at the sight of the desperate pain on his face and the shiny tears leaking out of his eyes.
You have to do something!
Quickly you remember the last time something like this happened. When he was shaking in the hall before, you laid your hand on his shoulder and he calmed down. Now you have to try that again.
You step forward and reach your hand out, but yelp as one of his wandering hands snaps around your wrist, yanking you forward as he tries to pull himself out of his waking nightmare. You struggle to free yourself from his grip, but when you pull, his grasp only tightens, and his other hand reaches out and grabs your left shoulder.
You gasp in pain as his unnatural strength unintentionally crushes your wrist and his fingernails digging viciously into your black skin, his eyes still glazed over so he couldn't tell what he was doing. "Let go Herobrine!" You yell at him, tempted to light yourself on fire and force him to let go, but you know that will only make the situation worse if you burn him.
Suddenly he yanks you even closer, and lets go of your wrist to wrap his arm around your back. His other arm snakes around your neck and he pulls you into a tight hug, holding onto you for dear life. You stiffen as he lays his head onto your shoulder and begins to shake with sobs. Thank goodness your cloak is waterproof, or his tears would be burning you...
At least he isn't breaking your wrist anymore.
You kind of just... stand there and let him get out... whatever it is he's doing... You reach a hand around and awkwardly pat his back. "Umm... It's ok... You're fine now..." You attempt to comfort him.
Eventually, his shaking stops, and he lifts his head and looks at you, his eyes back to their usual glow. Thank the Void that's over...
And then you suddenly realize just how close his face is.
Your chest blushes bright red as his warm breath caresses your face. His tear-stained face turns pink as well as he stares into your wide eyes, getting lost in their ruby depths. Once again he felt himself drowning, but not in incinerating molten rock. This time he is drowning in longing. Longing for something he had given up on years ago. Longing for someone to care about, longing for someone to care about him.
He thought he killed that desire long ago, because caring only ever caused him pain before. Now the longing resurfaced with unbearable strength, radiating from him in waves. He clung to it now with his last bit of sanity. He had been drowning in his inner darkness for five years, and now he clung to this last, flickering scrap of light that still burns within him.
He needs you.
Meanwhile, you simply stare at the new expression on his face with a small amount of concern. You don't dare move, in case he might crush you in his arms. Honestly, you're just not sure what to do...
Then he ducks his head forwards and kisses you, squeezing you so tight you almost struggle to breath. Your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up as your lips touch someone else's for the first time. Hero's eyes are shut as he leans into you, and you don't have much of a choice but to stand there and...
What is this feeling?!?!
A warm fluttery buzzing ignites in your chest, and your head starts to spin. Are you going to faint?! No... that's not it... why does this feel... good...
He pulls away and opens his eyes, looking at your shocked face with half-shut eyes. You just stare back, speechless, unable to form words and you wrangle with this new, unknown feeling that you can't stamp out.
What the Nether just happened?!?!
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Herobrine abruptly snapped out of his trance, staring at Y/N in surprise. Did he really just do that? He hardly believed himself... but did he regret it?...
No.
He slowly unwound his arms and released her from his embrace. She swallowed and blinked repetitively, flustered and confused. She tugged her white hood over her dark gray hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, ducking her head to hide her face completely. But nothing could hide her glowing chest.
Herobrine smirked. She was... adorable.
"I-I... need to go..." She stammered, then popped out of existence with a flash of red sparks.
Herobrine stood there for a moment, just smiling dumbly as he stared at the place she had been standing. Huh, her reaction was... hard to read... he couldn't tell if she was mad at him or not. The blush could've been one of anger, he mused idly.
But even if he could go back, he wouldn't have done anything different, well, except the flashback part. He did hope that she wasn't too upset with him though; he already missed her company. Funny. All it took was knowing someone to realize just how lonely he really was.
'Are you done being stupid yet?'
Herobrine sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm guessing there is something you want me to do?"
'Oh no, you just keep right on having weak mental breakdowns and kissing a freaking Enderman of all things. Don't let me get in the way of your degrading childish stupidity.'
"Just tell me what you want so I can get this over with." Herobrine huffed, not even realizing he was talking aloud.
'Why? So you can go back to making out? I swear you would get emotionally attached to a Piglin if you had the chance, you mentally weak idiot.'
"Oh right, and it's not like you have anything to do with my mental state, huh?!" Herobrine yelled, his slight taste of happiness quickly overwhelmed by angry annoyance.
'Don't get smart with me, boy.'
"Is that so? I thought you were just complaining about my stupidity? So which is- AHHHHH!" Herobrine cried out as a stabbing flash of pain twisted in his gut.
'Need I remind you why you shouldn't test my patience?'
"NO! No..." Herobrine gasped, struggling to push back another mental breakdown, memories of yet more searing pain bubbling up. "Just tell me what you want... please..."
'That's better. Go to the Overworld and figure out where the human army is camped. Their reinforcements should've arrived by now.'
"Isn't that what you wanted to happen?"
'Yes. It's all part of the plan. Now GO already.'
"Alright! Alright! I'm going..." Herobrine reassured the Whispers as he made his way down the Blackstone hall toward the portal room.
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Emmet pulled gently on the reins of his horse to stop the mare as a couple children ran, laughing, in front of her. Emmet followed them with his eyes as their mother confronted them, scolding them for running across the street without looking. Sadness overwhelmed him and he looked away, tears blurring his vision as he thought of what could never be.
He shook his head, tossing his straight black hair around as he tried to clear his mind. He had a mission and he needed to focus. After an entire day of constant riding, both him and his mount were exhausted, thankfully he had arrived at Helenport, a large trading city located on the Helen River, which ran from the Northeast of the Main Continent all the way to the Jungles in the south.
The Helen River served as a natural divider between the North region and the East region of the Human Kingdom. Emmet had only ever been to the East region once, on honeymoon with Tillary... They went through Helenport but didn't stay, because Helenport wasn't just a port, it was also a crime hub, known for the violent gangs that roamed the city. Emmet just hoped he was inconspicuous enough to get through and stay the night without running into trouble.
Right now, he was just entering the outskirts, but the ominous multistory cobblestone buildings were already coming into view. With twilight quickly approaching, Emmet needed to get into an inn before dark.
The closer he got to the center of town, the quieter it got. There were no more children playing outside, only sketchy merchants in stands by the road, and even sketchier customers buying their wares. Emmet didn't like all the dark alleys, too many places for thugs to hide.
There, Emmet finally spotted the sign for an inn only a few buildings away,
A shadow flashed across his peripheral vision.
Emmet jerked his head to the right, but saw nothing. Unease settled in his gut, and he urged his mare into a trot.
The sun was setting, and the shadows grew long and ominous as everything turned gray. Emmet quickly jumped off his horse at the entrance to the inn, but before he could get there, a tall figure in a mask stepped out of the shadows and blocked his path.
Emmet reached behind him to grab his ax from the saddle, only to find three more masked thugs with swords and daggers pointed at his throat.
"Think he's valuable?" one asked.
"No, search him and take the horse. I don't care if you kill 'im" another answered.
But before they could do anything, five figures emerged from the other side of the building. At first, Emmet was afraid it was more members of their gang, but he quickly realized they weren't. They weren't wearing masks, instead, they all wore strangely bright colored clothes. One wore all blue, one wore all yellow, one wore all green, one wore all red, and the one in front wore all orange. They were all young, and a couple of them barely looked fifteen.
"I suggest you leave. Otherwise we will have to intervene." The guy dressed in orange threatened the thugs, who glared at him menacingly. Emmet's eyes darted between the group of boys and the gang members.
"It's ok kids, don't get involved," Emmet tried to warn them away.
"We happen to be going in this inn, and you happen to be in our way." The orange guy ignored Emmet, narrowing his bright lime green eyes, remaining cool and composed.
"Get lost. There's more than one inn in this city." One of the thugs growled.
"Fine then. You leave us no choice." The orange guy drew his sword, and the rest of the boys followed suit, except the blue guy drew a bow, and the green guy pulled out... a fishing rod???
It was four against five, but the thugs seemed confident in their superiority, standing their ground without flinching.
Then the colorfully dressed boys charged!
The red guy ran to the front of the attack, tackling the guy behind Emmet with a kick. The thug quickly regained his footing and began to stab at the kid with his iron short sword, but the red guy dodged the attacks with ease. He began to add in his own attacks, using his fist as much as his sword.
The orange and green guy ran up next. The green guy flicked his fishing rod and hooked it on the back of one of the thug's shirts, pulling him off balance and finishing the move by punching him in the chest. The orange guy locked into a duel with another masked thug.
A second later, the third thug tried to jump the orange guy from behind, but before he could swing his dagger, an arrow embedded itself into his shoulder, and he dropped the weapon with a yelp. The yellow swordsman ran to back up the green one and the blue archer stayed behind to continue backing up the others.
Emmet stared in shock as the kids easily began to overpower the trained criminals, but quickly snapped out of it and spun around to grab his ax. By the time he turned back around, the thugs were retreating into the shadows, and the colorful group was approaching him.
"Thank you," Emmet said immediately as he lowered his ax, "Who are you guys?"
"The name's Chance Becker," The man dressed in orange nodded to the rest of his crew, "And we are the Freelancers."
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Let's gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
I gotta say I was not planning on having a kissing scene in this chapter, but hey it works!
And yes, the Freelancers are the Color Gang from Alan Becker's Animation vs. Minecraft!!! And don't worry! I'm adding Purple and Kind Orange too!!! Of course, they are a little different in my story, but they retain the same personalities and general backstories, though I do tweak a couple things...
Anyways, I uploaded a sketch of my version of The Second Coming, who I named Chance.
Edgy out!