Chapter 1 Father (Bartimeus POV)
With the world border slowly coming in to our village, I was having a lot to process. Ever since I left the life of being a normal enderman in the end, to helping raise Feleia, my life had changed drastically. I was a gentleman, or at least I classified myself as one. That itself to a lot of work to keep up my act, if that is what I should call it. Before I decided to become a gentleman, I was a rowdy enderman with no intention of following the rules set before me by the Ender Dragon. One day, I had gotten in trouble. My father had caught me breaking the rules, and not teleporting away in the daytime. I was punished severely. While endermen take good care of their young, they only want the best, so the punishments are usually quite harsh. They locked me in a room for about 30 seconds, and had water slowly drip in from the ceiling. I was told not to teleport, I would have to go through the process again, but longer.
As the water dripped down, I started sobbing an apology. Pain flooded over me, and I screamed at the top of my lungs. Right when I felt like I was going to die, the water stopped, and I was let out of the room. I hugged my parents, saying that I vowed not to break the rules again. From then on, I vowed to myself to be a gentleman, and be a role model for every enderman around. I guess I learned my lesson. Thankfully, I learned it at a young age.
I stopped flowing memories when Tom, the creeper, broke the silence, "I need to get back to my house and adjust my gadget so that it can track things that went in the air. It should take a few minutes, and then we should be set to go."
"We have a little time to spare," Martin the scout said. "There shouldn't be any villages swallowed in a while. Sadly, every village but 20 have had their people killed behind this 'World Border.'"
"I say we all take a rest while Tom fixes up his tracking goggles," Paul said. "We need our energy for the battle."
"Agreed," I said. "A nap would be grand."
We all left our separate ways for our homes, and I went into my house, comprised of Endstone and obsidian. I went into my bedroom, where a very long bed, custom made by the woodworker, was contained. I pulled up the sheets, and climbed in. Paul was right when he said that I needed rest. I pulled the sheets up to my neck, closed my eyes, and quickly fell asleep. That was when I had the dream.
I woke up in a bright room, lit heavily with redstone lamps. I looked around for a door, but then saw that I was strapped to a chair. I struggled to get up, but failed. I looked up; my top hat was gone. I looked down; my purple bowtie was missing. I tried to teleport, but failed to do so. Then, all of the lights started shutting off one by one, until only one was left. Then, the last one broke. It was pitch black. All of the sudden, I heard a piston activate, and then heard running water from all sides. The walls had opened up, leaving water to rush in. I was stuck in the chair, with no way to avoid getting splash, and no teleporting powers to escape. A redstone torch magically appeared on the floor in front of me, unable to be broken by water. It gave me just enough light to see someone I dreaded: Phillip Gungars.
"Gentleman," the villain laughed. "I think not."
The floor opened up, and the chair dropped into an ocean. I still couldn't teleport, and I was surrounded by water from every direction as I sank to the floor of the ocean. I screamed as loud as I could for help, but no one came. My screaming came to a climax as my health dwindled, and blood pumped through my ears, pounding in my skull. I tried to yank myself free from the binds of the chair, but it was no use.
My vision then went black.
I opened my eyes, surprised to still be alive. I was in the same chair, but I wasn't bound to it this time. In front of me was my father, who died in the Nether War.
"Dad!" I exclaimed.
"How are you, my little gentleman!" He said. I got up from the chair and gave him a big hug. He returned it quickly.
"I need your help with something, Bartie," my dad said. "Someone in your team is not who they seem. I have no idea if it's Steve, Tom, Papart, Sylvester, Paul, or Alex, but someone is pulling a charade, and it may put your goal of defeating the thieves in great danger. I need you to find this person, or mob, and destroy them. It may not be humane, or like a gentleman, but it is the right thing to do. If you don't do this, the world may be in a greater danger than it is now."
"I need to know who," I said.
"Time is running out," my father said. "I was only told that something was wrong in your group, and that a person was not who they were. I wasn't told who. I'm sorry Bartie."
"Will I ever see you again, father?" I asked, tears coming to my eye.
"Time will tell, Bartie," he replied. "Time will tell."
He vanished, and I started crying. I cried the most that I had ever cried before. I wanted to be with my father more than anything else. Then, the dream ended, and I woke up.
"Good God," I said to myself, getting out of my bed. "I need to figure out who this person is, and quickly. Our plan is in jeopardy."