Henry and Herobrine had both been suspiciously inactive. Henry would be otherwise occupied, somewhere around the corners of and folds of spacetime. He probably wasn't up to anything more evil than his usual occupation. This was, of course, completely evil, but what could one expect from an amorphous blood-drinking outer god? But Herobrine, too, had been ignoring Steve. Not a single murder attempt in more than a year. It was making him nervous. Not that he liked being murdered, quite the contrary. At first he'd enjoyed the peace, but now, he was starting to wonder if his half-brother were working on something especially nasty, or if he had left their planet altogether. Perhaps he and Henry had put aside their disagreements and were collaborating on something of galaxy-crushing proportions. Steve liked to think that Henry would at least gloat to him about it first, but maybe not. He couldn't trust the thing, and at any rate, it had a healthy respect for Herobrine. Henry was only a small space god, and Herobrine was an extremely powerful immortal humanoid abomination. Earthbound perhaps, for now, but surely not for long. Steve felt sick thinking about it. He didn't like waking up dead every other Tuesday, as seemed to be the case when his brother wasn't ignoring him, but he didn't want Herobrine leaving either. But it seemed to be too much to ask for the human Herobrine back. He should let go.
He couldn't let go.
So here he was again in the mind-bending system of tunnels around Herobrine's base. Any lingering hopes he'd had of contacting Henry for help (assuming he could—he hadn't tried it lately, but it seemed unlikely) were gone. Herobrine had obviously learned from his previous experiences. Powerful wards were knit into the walls of the labyrinth complex to keep him, and of course any other interested nonhuman parties, out. Steve shook his head, running his hand over the magic-saturated stone. No human could do this, not in a lifetime. Maybe this was what had kept him occupied lately. Oddly, the wards against outer gods didn't work on Herobrine himself. He was still close enough to human. And so was Steve. Herobrine clearly didn't consider the "lower" life forms enough of a threat to protect against them to the same degree. Besides, he might have some sort of magical mishap and be forced to navigate his tunnels himself. So Steve was, mostly, safe. Mostly. Of course, Herobrine didn't want Steve, or any annoying animals that might have fallen down, to wander into his base either. There were wards to sense torchlight or motion, dead giveaways, not to mention the occasional dynamite trap. Herobrine had ascended to higher, subtler forms of magic, but he still liked to see things go boom now and then. The ghost of a smile tugged at Steve's mouth.
He was walking slowly without a torch, all his attention on the dim shapes he could just pick out of the dark and the constant tremor of magic, head down, watching for drop-offs. Suddenly his head jerked up. For a moment he wasn't sure what had attracted his attention. An opening in the passage, far down in front of him, was suddenly brilliantly outlined. His heart rate tripled within a few seconds. But this wasn't the dead light that hung around his brother, it was ruddy and warm. It looked like torchlight. In a moment, a form appeared, walking quickly in a distinctly alive fashion. It was tall and carried what looked like a mostly empty bag on its back. A sword swung from its left hip. The torchlight caught at loose hair in a blaze of gold. A moment later it was gone, silent and swift as a waking vision, and Steve was left crouched against the wall, staring into black. Not a zombie. No other monster that he could think of. It was, in fact, human. Yes. Definitely human. Was Herobrine working with humans now? Well that was horrifying. Surprising as well. Hard to imagine Herobrine would consider them worth his while, or that they would be so stupid. But then, this was from his perspective, and not the humans'. Stranger things had happened in the history of the Overworld. But this human with the torch seemed to know where it was going. Steve decided to follow it. It was a better bet, anyway, than wandering around on his own. And now he was even more concerned as to what his brother had been up to. If he were drawing humans into this madness… well, it wasn't on par with galaxy-smashing, but he didn't like it.
It was easy to follow the blaze of torchlight down through the passages, further from the sun and closer to Herobrine. Steve felt almost afraid of this human. It wasn't afraid of what lay ahead, and he was. What had it given his brother in exchange for safe passage? Not much on a human scale would interest him anymore, or at least, Steve hadn't thought so. But as time dragged on, and he dared follow a little more closely, he began to wonder. The human acted more like an explorer than one familiar with the place, pausing to look down branching passages in the torchlight and appearing to choose its route haphazardly, once doubling back from a dead end and nearly catching Steve at the end of the passage, which put him in a panic. The human would stop, now and then, in a place where the air was heavy with magic, and stand for some time with an intent look—even curious, Steve wanted to say—and then move on. Could they have found the caves by accident? But why were they still going deeper, if that were the case? They could clearly sense the magic. But maybe they really were just clueless. Steve peered around the edge of a rock at the retreating glow of flame. Now that he thought of it, that made much more sense. Perhaps he should try to talk to it. Worst case scenario, it attacked and killed him, but he wouldn't have to feel guilty if something terrible happened to it. He was still reluctant to approach it. Besides the natural suspicion of anything which seemed so at home in Herobrine's labyrinth, he wasn't sure how to start a conversation. It had been a long time since he'd had someone to talk to. He and Herobrine occasionally shouted at each other while Steve was being murdered in horrifyingly original ways, but no normal conversations. How would he even start? Should he just shout at them down the passage and wait for them to stop? Then what would he say? Hey, you know there's a Herobrine here, right? You're alright with that? OK, just checking. Pretend you never saw me. No, no one important. Please don't mention this to your friend when you find him.
His thoughts were interrupted by a rending blast which echoed through the passages and shook the floor beneath his feet. He sprinted forwards and crouched against the wall, listening to the sounds of collapsing rubble ahead. So much for the human, he thought. But then a pained scream rang out, and Steve tensed. Then there was silence, except for the sounds of settling rubble. In the silence he could hear labored breathing and the occasional whimper. The torchlight was gone. Steve was convinced: this human didn't know what it was doing. But now his brother was due for a visit. Steve was torn between running for his life and creeping closer. In the end he stayed where he was.
It was a little while before the flash of white that signaled a certain entity's teleportation appeared. Herobrine must not have been very concerned about his security. Finally, there was the trademark shriek of rent air, and a pitter-patter of displaced rocks. A few thuds signaled loose pieces of ceiling losing their hold.
"Hello there." Steve's heart beat a little faster at Herobrine's voice, and he held his sword ready. Herobrine chuckled. "Well, you've found me. Who sent you? You obviously didn't come yourself."
"I.. I'm just a scavenger."
"Really? Hmm. Well, you've come to the wrong place." The human muttered something. "From your fear, I believe you know me."
"Herobrine."
"I remember a few titles in there. But, close enough." So the human hadn't known. He'd gotten lost in the caves by sheer bad luck. "How would you like to participate in some really advanced magic for once?"
There was a long silence. "Yes?" The human seemed to expect that this was the right answer.
"Excellent. I'll need to borrow your blood. All of it."
"Somehow I just knew you were going to say that." How, Steve wondered, had that been said? With bitterness or resignation, or a combination of both? With the driest of dry gallows humor? Perhaps as a way of reassuring himself that he still had some control, or at least, he could call what was coming next? He was almost overwhelmed by all the possibilities in the sentence. One sentence, only one. This human could be anyone, he realized. He was only pulled out of his confusion by an intensification of Herobrine's power. He'd grown attuned to it over his long life. His awareness of it sometimes substituted a few last seconds of obliviousness for ones of panic, before he was attacked from behind. Very useful, he thought. It was focused on something, and he heard the human give a sharp gasp and some desperate movement. Then with a final blaze of colorless light Herobrine disappeared. Steve waited for rubble to stop falling, then took out a torch. The rock walls blazed up around him. Softly he rounded the corner and picked his way over the rubble to where the human lay, a small crumpled form among and partially caught under chunks of fallen stone. It was streaked with blood and one arm was pinned under a collapsed section of wall. The shoulder-length hair was thrown across the floor and its face, and its free arm was raised above its head as if it had been trying to fend something off. Tan skin, a pointed nose and a golden five o'clock shadow. As the torch came over him his eyelids flickered and his mouth half-opened in a noiseless groan. His eyes, Steve saw for a moment, were green. Light green like leaves in spring. He was young. "Hey," said Steve, marveling at him, the way the soft hair pooled on the rock, the way his chest rose and fell with the breath of life. He was unconscious again. Steve followed his right arm to where it disappeared under the rock with his eyes. Blood was pooling on the floor from somewhere out of sight. That was going to be a mess. He gently prodded the person's shoulder. They grimaced but didn't wake. "OK, uh, I'm going to have to get you out of this." He hadn't caught exactly what Herobrine said, but it sounded like he'd be coming back. Not good, no no no no. "Okay?" nothing. It was probably better if they stayed unconscious, at this point. He propped the torch up and sank down at the human's side, examining the stone on their arm. They were trapped fast. He tried shoving it from different angles and only gave himself a moment of panic when he seemed about to start a rockslide onto the still unconscious human. He resorted to hitting the rock above the trapped arm with his pickaxe, carefully, chipping it a little at a time. Blood began flowing faster as the pressure from above eased. Finally he was able to pull the human, and their dragging arm, to the side, away from the precarious drift of rubble. The arm left a trail of blood on the floor. He fetched the torch closer and forced himself to look at it. A few fingers were missing, and it seemed to be stretching in ways that no intact limb should stretch. Carefully he ran his hand under the mess and tried to find how many breaks there were. The answer was a lot, and he quickly stopped counting. He couldn't do anything with this. And it was still bleeding. Aware that his hands were shaking now, he felt up to what seemed the last break, a little above the elbow. Then he had to consider what to do next. He'd thought of making a diamond dagger, for crafting, with a few leftover shards of diamond too small to do much else with, but he never had done it. Now he wished he had, and had brought it with him, or any kind of knife. Well, he could get along without one. He took out his diamond sword, braced it against the floor, and carefully pulled the human's arm against the edge, parting the flesh a little lower than the break. When it was over he briefly examined the wound. The break seemed clean. He tied the flesh together over it with a layer of bandage and then wrapped the whole as tightly as he thought safe. He looked at the human, suddenly afraid they had woken up, but they were still unconscious. He ran his hands over the bandage, already damp in spots, checking it. It would have to do for now. He sat back, looked at the severed limb leaking on the floor, shuddered and looked back at the human. It was pale but still breathing. It looked so wrong with part of it missing. Steve had to force down a terrible feeling of guilt. Herobrine would be back soon. Carefully he lifted the human in his arms, hid the torch and began walking, back into the caves.
For hours Steve had been hoping that his new friend would wake up, but he never had, and Steve was thinking more and more of the possibility that he never would. Steve had finally stopped to rest and think about his options. He wasn't sure where he was. He thought Herobrine's labyrinth had been built only as a barrier, but it didn't seem eager to let them leave the place and return to the upper world. In fact he had a nasty feeling that as soon as they started leaving Herobrine's base behind, a twist of the way brought them back towards it. Beside him, the human groaned. It had been groaning for some time without waking and the sound was upsetting him more every time he heard it. He ran a hand over the human's hair. It seemed to be comforted, and quieted. The breathing was a little faster. Was it awake? He couldn't tell. A moment later a hand came out of the darkness and touched his face. He held his breath. They were awake. And touching him. And awake, and alive, and not dead, and they were touching him. No, this wouldn't do, he was going to pass out himself if he kept holding his breath. "You're awake," he said, then closed his eyes in annoyance. Of course they were awake. The hand was snatched away.
"Who are you?" the voice was wary. Steve was a little hurt. Then again, the last thing they remembered was Herobrine and explosions and pain, so that made sense entirely.
"A friend." Please please be a friend. "My name's Steve."
The human gave a senseless laugh. "Hello Steve I'm Arix." He sounded nearly hysterical. Steve put his hand on Arix's head.
"Hello, Arix." He stroked the soft hair and the breathing beside him grew less tense. He was alive. Arix was alive. Steve's entire life had been condensed for the present into a single mission, to get Arix out of the caves. Alive. He could start, for the moment, by keeping him warm. He rolled the shivering human onto his chest and wished he'd brought a blanket, but he didn't usually need them. "You'll be alright," he whispered. He wasn't sure if Arix heard. Maybe he was asleep. But he wanted it. He wanted him to be alright. He would be alright, if there was any chance at all. Steve would protect him. He ran the silky hair through his fingers, imagining he could see it blazing again in the torchlight. He'd never held something this precious since leaving the city. What could qualify life, awareness? It outweighed everything. He didn't know anything about Arix, but he knew that he was precious beyond anything, and from this moment, they were friends. That made him very nervous, but there was also a steely feeling deep down which he recognized from long ago, when Herobrine had been human and in need of his help. He was going to protect his friend to the death. And, considering that death didn't last very long for Steve, chances were good that they'd make it out to see the sun again.
A/N: Someday soon I will write something other than The Mark-related drabble, I promise. School is crazy.
So. This is odd. But I just suddenly wondered what the first few chapters of The Mark would have been like from Steve's perspective. As in, not the perspective of a guy who goes straight from "I have no idea what I'm doing" to "Whoops I angered Herobrine and I'm unconscious." As in, the Steve who's been alone, being plagued by a crazy evil brother, for hundreds of years. Also, I wanted to work in Henry in a way that made sense.
May edit more later, I rushed over this, but yeah, here's the gist of it. Also, for the record, Steve is a badass warrior of badassery, he's just used to being destroyed by Herobrine, so he's afraid of everything.