Yay! It's done! I've FINALLY rewritten this age-old story! :D


...Once, long ago, when Minecraftia was still young,

there was peace between the Minecrafters and Mobs.

They accepted each other, they knew their rules and limits.

But every once and then, it happened that they stepped over their bonds.

Honestly, who has the rights to tell with whom you should be in love with?

No one.

Not even a god.

Back then, hybrids were rather common.

Endercreepers, Enderborn, Creeperborn, Spidercreepers, Silverspiders...

Weirdest mixes were part of everyday life.

They were the one thing that kept the different species together.

But due to many small incidents, which piled up on each other,

and a fatal misunderstanding

it happened that a great war was unleashed.

Even the godly brothers, who usually don't meddle in the affairs of mortals, took their part in it.

After the war, which is also known as 'The Dark War', ended,

the Mobs and Minecrafters blamed the Hybrids to be traitorous and called them cowards.

Because they didn't want to choose a side.

They were hunted and brutally murdered by the pure blooded, even their own kinds.

It was a bloody century.

Almost no Hybrid survived.

The few that survived the flood of blood and murder, built the Temple of Time and inside it, protected by lethal traps and malicious spirits, a secret room.

After their work was done, they scattered over the world, hiding in unknown dark and damp places.

Be sure, this bloody slaughter was never necessary and started with very little things.

But a spark of hope for peace still lives, remaining within an ancient prophecy, only known by the Guild of Fate:

Follow the strings of fate back in time and you'll experience it first-view...

The winter had been rainy and now, as if to make up for it, spring was especially hot.

This was the first warm day in this year, not a single cloud dared to come out into the hot rays of the sun.

And one certain little Enderling wasn't going to waste it.

Happily strolling through the wide open area, it chased after a butterfly in the waist-high grass, giggling as it playfully danced in front of its nose, as if to tease it.

But the butterfly underestimated its reflexes and soon found itself in its hands.

Smiling, the child sat down and examined it, not noticing that its parents were nowhere to be seen. Sudden footsteps on the grassy ground made it curiously turn around. Was there some friendly Mob who wanted to play with it? But there was nobody, just that tree, which always stood there. Quickly disinterested it turned its attention to a rose to its feet, ripping the petals off and chewing on them while looking at the bug sitting on its hand. The gleaming sun still shined down, reflecting on an irony surface. The child didn't notice how two cold, calculating eyes were watching it.

As quiet as a Creeper a silvery figure came out of its hideout.

A deathly blade was lifted.

The kid noticed a shadow looming over it and dragged its head around.

„YESTER! NO!"

Stunned by the sudden shout-out the teen missed his target. The Enderling stumbled to its feet, trying to run away, panic in its amethyst eyes. It screamed loud enough to make Yester think his ears would explode.

Zzzt!

Out of nowhere, surrounded by a trail of purple mist, a giant, black and slender figure towered over him. Yester managed to keep a calm face, but behind the mask his thoughts were barely more than a panicked mishmash.

Mistake!

An alarm bell ringed in his head. He lifted his iron sword in order to defend himself. The Ender's eyes gleamed with wrath as it stared down on its enemy. It lifted a black claw and Yester got ready for a hard battle.

But the attack didn't happen. The Minecrafter looked up, seeing that the reptile's attention was fixed on a point behind him. He, too, turned around, only to see a bearded man running towards them, carrying a bucket full of water. The enderian parent backed slowly away, then boldly turned around, picked up its kid and teleported away, just one heartbeat before the deathly fluid touched its skin. Seeing that his prey was gone, Yester angrily turned to the heavily panting man, clothes soaked partially in water. He knew he had just saved his life, but that wouldn't ease the shame of failure when he was back home.

„Why did you do this? I could've brought back an Enderpearl if you didn't..."

„Shut up!", he interrupted Yester. „Do you have a single clue how close you were to death?! You should be thankful rather than talk to me like that! If you'd slain that kid, its parent would've killed you quicker than you could wield your toy sword! You should be happy that these were obviously loners, otherwise I'd have to explain your parents why a whole clan ripped you to shreds! And seeing you dead - although you're stupid enough to deserve it - is something I'd prefer to avoid! Have you forgot what I told about attacking Mobs?"

Yester looked down, blushing slightly in embarrassment. „You can attack everything you want..."

„...but keep away from two things: Spiderjockeys and ENDERS!"

The teen sighed quietly. The first rule of novice Mob-Slayers.

„Sorry, uncle Cardillac." He mumbled, wringing most of the water out of his vest.

Cardillac shook his head, his ruby eyes glittering scoldingly. „Being sorry won't help you if you die. Many famous Mob-Slayers died because they were too overconfident. I'm starting to have second thoughts about that..." He placed a finger on the armor over Yester's shoulder, referring to the insignia printed on his clothes.

„But uncle! You said yourself that I'm good at it and-"

„It doesn't matter how good you are if you're dead! Remember that you're still just a novice. You need to respect. Children are a taboo. You're usually not that careless."

„It's just...", Yester tried to explain himself. „Dmitri said that I wouldn't dare to attack an Ender and then we made a bet..." the youngster visibly faltered under his uncles hard glare.

„A Mob Slayers job is not only killing, Yester!", Cardillac continued. „I'm going to talk with your father about this. We'll go home. You've had enough combat training for today."

Without waiting for his nephew's answer, the Mob-Slayer turned around and walked back the way they had come. With a hanging head he followed, his sword drawing a line in the dirt behind him.

Three hours later, Yester sat together with his family at dinner. He wasn't hungry, though.

„How was your day, darling?" his mother asked his dad, who had just come back from work.

„It was alright, some Jokesters broke a few tracks, that's all." His father worked as the repairman for the mine cart tracks in Lavafall city. Seeing as it was an almost entire civilization completely underground, that was a surprisingly important and well-paid job. But the name Glutmond was really more famous for the successful Mob-Slayers they had brought forth, dad being the only one who hadn't followed the tradition.

„You should rather ask your son about his escapades at the surface." he added. The woman looked at the teen in surprise.

„What does your father talk about, Yester? Yester?"

The soon-to-be Mob-Slayer was busy pushing the carrot pieces around his plate and creating little towers with them.

„Yester Glutmond, would you please stop playing with your food and answer my question?" The named looked up upon hearing his mother's voice.

„Sorry, mom." He sighed. „I...I broke a rule..."

„Sure did, pal." his father growled. „He attacked an Enderling. Cardillac told me about that 'incident' of yours. And the reason. I've never thought you're that stupid."

„Desan, I don't think it's that grave..." Yester's mother answered, trying to protect her son a bit, whose previous confidence was shrinking with each second.

„Oh, it's more than that. He must learn to respect the rules. I may not be a Mob-Slayer, but I certainly understand enough of it to know that this must not happen again. Do you understand, boy?"

„Yes, dad."

„However, I've talked a bit with Cardillac about everything and he thinks that you didn't understand what the job is about. You actually don't deserve it, but you two will go for a journey so that you'll get some experience." Yester's eyes lit up at the thought of this, suddenly sitting upright.

„And where? Twilightdale? Shadow Forest?" Twilightdale and Shadow Forest were both excellent hunting places, famous for their great amount of Mobs, although both were quite dangerous. His father shook his head. Yester gasped. „Far Islands?", he asked almost inaudible. Desan gave a weary sigh.

„Yester, you obviously didn't listen. Again. I think the Far Islands are a bit too challenging for you." His son's face fell at the thought of what that cloud possibly mean.

„Oh please, dad, not Ir Qas!" To him, Ir Qas, a tiny, mostly by Testificates inhabited village, was the most boring place in the world. (Of course, if he knew what was going on there, he wouldn't say that, but that's a different story.)

„Wrong again.", he proclaimed after gulping down a piece of chicken. Yester looked at him, puzzled. He ran out of ideas.

„You're going to Creeperville." There were a few seconds of absolute silence.

What."

Creeperville was a rather ordinary place, aside from being the biggest village within Adminia. What made it special, though, was, as if the First Mob War never existed, Mobs and Minecrafters lived in peace there. The inhabitants of Creeperville, or Traitorville to some, simply couldn't understand the reason of fighting against each other, if you could also trade with each other.

„I don't understand, dad! Why do I have to-"

„You're going there. Pack your things before you go to bed, you'll leave tomorrow."

„Tomorrow?! But-"

„End of discussion."

Yester frowned and pushed the plate away from him. „I'm not hungry."

With these words he stood up and walked to his room, bringing up all his control to not slam the door.

Annabelle sighed.

„He gets older, but sometimes he still acts like a child..." Her husband kissed her lightly.

„I know. Don't worry, he will grow out of it eventually. I am certain."

FeeL th.e MaG1.c oF

A lanky figure stood at the fence, which surrounded the miracle of science and magic it was standing on, the streets glittering with frost behind it.

White, gloved hands with an irregular number of digits were firmly holding on said fence. Crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dark, the person looked up in the black sky, which was devoid of clouds.

Anyone else would've marveled at the glittering, diamond-like stars.

But he was searching for something specific and had no eyes for such a sight.

His ears picked up a distant humming noise. The sound of an engine. It was faint, but his senses were extremely good, better than most inhabitants of the Island. He looked up, chills running down his spine, for the night was cold so high above the clouds.

Now, added to the constant humming, he noticed a tiny figure in the pitch black of the sky. It was an equally black plane, almost no difference between it and the night if it weren't for the two fluorescent lime-green stripes on each side.

As its owner was near enough, the person shut down the high-tech redstone engine and softly landed on the Island, only with the help of a light breeze.

The man watched the pilot jumping out, its long, poison-green scarf fluttering in the wind. It was a girl, barely 16 in appearance, with lava-colored hair, blazing red eyes with orange pupils and unhealthy pale skin.

A Ghastborn, one of the rarest Human-Mob Hybrids. She wore a black t-shirt – despite the freezing temperatures – as well as black jeans and shoes. A glowing golden sword was hanging on her belt. Taking a glance at the man, she walked towards him, a black cat with vibrant green eyes striding along her feet. He straightened his warm jacket and shook hands with the newcomer.

„Xanthos Sinclair, I suppose?", she asked. Her voice had the distinct sound of a crackling flame and an aura of heat surrounded her. Xanthos nodded.

„And you are..."

„Suki.", the teen answered.

„Suki Ghastfire. Professional killer. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The cat meowed quietly, the sound resonating through the empty city as the two Hybrids vanished in the shadows, only seen by a lonely bat.

Until next time, my fellow Enderproxies...


ANNOUNCEMENT: This chaptr is a newer version of the one found in my DA account and has undergone a huge rewrite, especially in the first part. Human has been replaced by Minecrafter, because I think I have accepted the fact that they're different species. There's also no party village anymore. Shame, I know, but that was necessary.

The prophecy has received a major rewrite as well, so the old one isn't up to date anymore. Ignore it. Also, I'm not going to reveal it right now! :D

I kept cringing at this chaptr. And I still do a bit. Ewrgh.

And...the Guild of Fate. Blimey, what a bad name...

Yay! It's done!

Well, well, a whole bag of references in here, including a special one Flu may be happy about. Also, I'm quite proud of all these names. Meep.

I hate writing EnderMAN. It's discriminating. Ender sounds better. Even though it's huMAN, too. But I hate that as well, so... :P

Fun fact: Suki Ghastfire was originally supposed to be a...rather playful female 'Succubus' Shape-shifter living in Creeperville. Hurhur. How funny that she's now a professional killer. Also-also-also, I wrote '16 in appearance', because she only LOOKS like 16. In fact, she's way older.

Ghastborn. Because I can. :D *kills off your brain*

Next chaptr has a snobbish girl, a cute 'squirt' (For you, TMD!) and probably somebody being murdered.

...

Maybe. Unlikely. ._.

And on a last note, the rewrite can also be found in . Search for Enderchild 080. :3

-HOLD ON HOLD ON HOLD ON! One last thing to say! I nearly forgot! The '-born' ending for Minecrafter-Mob Hybrids is NOT a reference to Skyrim, neither it was influenced by it! Not at all!

I only noticed the similarities when Flu made the 'End-Roh-Da' joke, so I wanted to clear this up. :) I admit, it took me some time to get it.

If I'd own Minecraft, this wouldn't be a fan-fiction. See the logic?

References belong to their rightful owners. (Except for those I didn't knew I made.)

SsssssSSstory and plotline is ALL MINE. Craft. Hehehe.