The forest was dark and damp, the ground soggy and spongy underfoot. A lonely sheep bleated, its high voice ringing through the limp limbs of the soaked trees. A few birds leapt from their perches, searching desperately for relief from the rain. It was a dreary day and the man was reveling in it.

He stood in a patch of dry forest in the middle of a clearing. Flowers and mushrooms guarded the perimeter of the clearing. The man looked at a red mushroom and tilted his head, as if listening.

"Minime!" He said sternly, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. "Sed mox."

Herobrine hurried to his study, murmuring to himself.

"I can't believe I didn't realize it. The answer has been staring me in the face! Ugh! I'm so stupid!" He stopped, backing up a few paces until he stood in front of the library door. He cleared his throat and knocked curtly, gently opening the door. "Darling?" He said sweetly. "May I borrow Orion for a moment?"

Lydia looked at him from her place next to Lucy on the plush velvet conversation couch. She smiled, nodding. "Of course." The alchemist stood from the chair across from the couch and crossed the room in long strides. Herobrine nodded thanks and quickly shut the door to the library. When he turned to Orion however, his expression had darkened.

"Can you speak Twilish?" Orion blinked.

"Uh, not fluently, but I can translate it fairly easily. Why?"

"I need your help." Herobrine said, leading Orion down the hall. The alchemist grinned, relishing the fact that the all-powerful god needed help.

Herobrine's study was done over in gray wallpaper with lighter pin strips that soared to the higher ceiling. The floor was a pale yellow birch wood that was warm to the touch, unlike the marble in the hallway. A wide bookshelf of the same color wood took up the entire wall behind the dark wood desk. In the corner of the room a delicate spiral staircase wound up to a loft with what looked like an observatory.

The anxious god went straight to the bookshelf where he jumped on a stool and pulled a half a dozen thin volumes from the top shelf. He tossed three of them to Orion.

"Start translating. Any mention of rain or a witch named Fi, tell me." The god began flipping through one of the books, still standing on the stool.

"What are these?" Orion asked, setting them on the desk.

"My old diaries. I completely forgot about them…I'm almost positive they'll help."

"That's reassuring…" The alchemist murmured. He walked over to the stairs and sat on one, beginning the long process of translating.

Orion yawned and rubbed his tired eyes. They'd been reading and translating for hours and the alchemist had lost faith in finding anything. He had quickly learned that the entire bookshelf was filled with diaries, the older ones at the top and the newer ones near the bottom. Books were strewn across the room, the top three shelves empty.

"Question." Orion said his voice slightly hoarse. "Why are these all written in twilish?"

"At first it was just paranoia, and then it just stuck." The god replied offhanded. "So few speak it…"

"Well that's because twilish is from-"

"Aha!" Herobrine interrupted. "Found it!" He jumped off his perch and to Orion, practically shoving the book in his face. "See?! Right there!" He pointed to a few words. Orion blinked.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"Something bad…" The god murmured, shutting the book. "We have to tell the council." He jumped up and threw open the door, racing down the corridor towards the dining hall. Orion sent a last glance at the piles of books and chased after the god.

The young alchemist lost the much faster god sometime after the third backtrack from a dead end. He learned over, his hands on his knees, huffing and puffing.

"This isn't a castle…" He gasped. "This is a labyrinth…"

Herobrine popped his head 'round the corner in front of Orion.

"Well come on! We have important information to deliver!"

"F-fine! But slow down!" Orion said, regaining his breath.

"You speed up!" Herobrine said speeding off again like his terror had turned to giddiness. The alchemist noted this with interest.

The two burst through the doors of the dining hall where the guests had gathered for dinner. Orion gasped for breath and fell to the floor, exhausted. Herobrine looked around and straightened, tightening his tie.

"Pardon me ladies and gentlemen." He said eloquently. "I was not aware you had sat down for dinner." He shot a glare at his butler standing at the side bar.

"Perhaps you and Orion would like to join us." Professor Oslo suggested. Herobrine nodded as his butler helped the alchemist to his feet. Herobrine calmly sat down in the empty chair next to Lydia who smiled sweetly. A bowl of steaming brown stew was set in front of him. He looked at it disapprovingly.

"Mushroom stew… My favorite…"

"Herobrine," Lysander started. "While I enjoy the pleasantries of sitting down for a proper meal, the rain is our main concern. And judging by the way you came in, you have surely fond something interesting."

"Yes…" The god pushed the bowl away and laid his diary in its place. "When you are as old as I am, you see a lot of things, wars, droughts, plagues, lots of things. But it's really all about the little details. This is one of the volumes of my diary and in it, I believe I've found the answer."

"Something minor I hope." Xephos commented.

"I'm afraid not." The god said darkly. "A very, very long time ago, I met a nomad traveling around, preforming small magic tricks for village children. At first I thought none of it, but then I met the traveler again, in a different town. Soon I noticed a pattern. The traveler was everywhere I went, like she was following me. I finally confronted the traveler, demanding to know who they were. She told me her name was Fi and that she was a witch from a world neither I nor my brother created.

"She claimed to be able to see through my human disguise and knew exactly who I was. She also claimed she could do things I couldn't with the powers of her world." Everyone around the table was silent, rapt with his tale.

"Could she?" Lydia finally asked quietly. "Could she do something you couldn't?" Herobrine hesitated.

"She could…create life. She took me out into the woods, into a clearing and showed me. With a wave of her hand, she created rings of flowers and mushrooms. When she snapped a cloud formed and rain began to fall in the clearing. She challenged me to do the same…" His voice trailed off. The others looked at his expectantly. "Anyway, the point is it's her. She's the only one I know who can create rain other than my brother. And I think this is her way of sending a message. If we want this to end, we have to find her."

"It's all well and good that you've figured it out, but how are we to find this witch? And on that note, why should we help? This is your problem now." King Iwan voiced, annoyed but no longer enraged.

"It is my burden and mine alone. And I would like to find her on my own." Herobrine said, folding his diary. "None of you are obligated to help me. You are however advised to stay here in the safety of my castle until I can convince the witch to stop the rain."

"And how are you going to find her?" Xephos quipped.

"I look for the darkest clouds."

Late that night, after the butler had shown the council members to the guest rooms, a figure sat perched on the balcony ledge outside the main bedroom. The balcony was enveloped in an area of clear sky, the rain falling in a perfect circle around it. A stray cloud drifted across the sky, revealing a pale, wavering full moon that bathed the figure in a shaft of silvery, other-worldly light.

His hair was fine and straight, barely brushing his shoulders in choppy layers. It was a pale yellow green color that gradually darkened near the roots. The tips of his hair were an orangey red, like the way a leaves turns colors in fall. He pulled a small leather pouch from the belt under his finally woven orange tunic. Gracefully he jumped off the ledge and crept into the silent bedroom, his footfalls muffled by his leather slippers as he approached the bed.

He looked down at the woman in disdain, her curtain of scarlet hair draped across the white sheets. He lightly ran a lock of her soft hair through his fingers, his other hand clenching into a fist and his face flushed in anger. He then crossed to the other side of the bed and looked at the god lovingly. The figure longed to stroke the sleeping god's smooth, pale cheek.

With a delicate hand, the figure scattered the contents of the pouch, a shimmering white powder, over the couple. Their pulse immediately slowed and their breathing deepened. They were unconscious.

The man kissed the god on the forehead and set an envelope stained yellow with age on the table next to him. He them picked up the woman and roughly tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her with ease despite his slight frame. He made his way to the ledge of the balcony and disappeared into the night with his quarry.

Herobrine was furious. He was positive it was Fi. Who else would've been able to knock him out so thoroughly and kidnap his fiancée literally right out of his arms and leave a note written in twilish!? No one else he knew. Or at least was an enemy with.

He looked at the note again. The stained parchment was mostly blank except for a single phrase in twilish. The clearing.

There was no way it couldn't be Fi. Herobrine was sure she still held a grudge against him for… He shook his head, shoving the note into the pocket of the pants he had thrown on when he'd finally woken up. He fingered the fabric of the pants and stood on the balcony, looking over the landscape.

The castle and its surrounding grounds had been liberated from the rain and was now a refuge for the animals that lived in the nearby forest. A songbird landed on the ledge next to Herobrine's hand and whistled a sweet tune. He glared at it, but the bird continued tweeting away. He sighed and looked down at the soaked and soggy ground. Bellow him was the garden that yesterday had been drowned and dead, but today the multicolored flowers, fruit trees and shrubs had regrown, flourishing better than before.

Herobrine glared at the garden, Lydia's garden, which Fi had violated with her otherworldly magic. Anger resparked within him and he slammed his fist against the rail, cracking the marble.

With a quick turn of his heal, the god marched across the room to the wardrobe and pulled on a plain cotton shirt. From the bottom of the wardrobe he grabbed a scuffed and worn pair of brown leather books and a matching belt that he fastened around his trim waist.

Then, with a deft and practiced finger, Herobrine flicked a lever hidden in the corner of the wardrobe. A long tall panel in the back of the wardrobe slid away on pistons kept well-oiled by the butler, revealing Herobrine's trusted obsidian blade. A thin layer of dust coated the inside of the cubby hole, but the blade was newly cleaned and, upon farther inspection, sharpened. The god smiled and pulled out the blade, sheathing it and clipping it to his belt.

With measured, determined strides, Herobrine quietly stalked through the halls, cautious not to wake anyone.

It was early in the morning, around dawn. But Orion was used to waking early to brew the day's potions. His mother, who had been a potion mistress before him, how taught Orion that the freshest potions were the most potent. She had showed him how she made a super concentrated "master" potion that could be watered down to ten normal strength potions. Not only did this save money in ingredients, but also brewing time.

So Orion had gotten out of bed out of habit and decided to take a stroll through the castle. He casually threw his dark blue robe over his frame and left his room, his silvery hair hanging loose around his shoulders.

He decided to head for the kitchen in hopes of snagging an early breakfast. He entered the servant's quarters and walked down the hall to the kitchen. He spotted one of the little maids scurrying about with clean sheets piled in her arms. Her ruffled black and white dress bobbed as she bounced about anxiously. Orion smiled and said a quick good morning as he walked past. The little maid nodded respectfully and continued bouncing about.

In the kitchen, more little maids bounced around, under the direction of the cook, a plump and curvy ghost woman with rosy cheeks and ringlets of black hair piled on her head. Her attention was captivated however by the young woman leaning on the wooden work table with her bum sticking up in the air. Orion's face colored.

"Lucy, where are your pants?!" He sputtered, trying not to stare. The skylord turned and looked at the alchemist scrutinizing. Then her face flushed.

"I could ask the same thing to you Mr. I am going to parade around in nothing but pants and a robe!" Orion looked down at his boxers and bare chest and quickly pulled his robe shut.

"Why are you even awake this early?!" The alchemist shouted his face still flushed. Lucy crossed her arms defiantly.

"I was hungry." She said matter of fact.

The cook pulled out a tray of hot biscuits and set them on the work table, shaking her head disapprovingly at both Orion and Lucy. She then poured them each a cup of coffee and motioned for them to sit down. With another gesture, she sent two little maids to the guest rooms to get the two youth's clothes.

"Honestly." She murmured in a thick accent. "You two…"

The two of them sat down at the table and looked at each other awkwardly; both of their faces still bright red.

"Is that a new robe?"

"No, it's pretty old."

There was a pause.

"Your panties are cute…Did Lydia pick them out?"

"Yeah. She insisted I stopped wearing pants for boys."

There was another pause. Lucy nibbled on a biscuit.

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah…You?"

"Mmm, best I've had in weeks."

"So that article, with the story about all the women…Was it-"

"It wasn't true. I promise."

"Good…I mean uh…"

The little maids came back with clothes and Lucy was saved from her stuttering. A few minutes later, when they were fully dressed and no longer embarrassed, they had a lovely conversation which consisted of glaring and a comfortable silence both were content with but neither wanted the other to know.

Suddenly Herobrine strode into the kitchen, right passed Orion and Lucy. The two teens looked at each other then jumped up from the table, chasing after the god. They managed to intercept him as he picked his way through the vegetable garden.

"Damn potatoes…" He muttered. "Get out of my way. I have important things to do." Orion grabbled Herobrine by the shoulder, turning him around.

"Where are you going this early?" Lucy asked, crushing a budding carrot bushel.

"I'm going to find Fi." He said firmly, his mouth a hard line.

"Without breakfast?" Lucy scoffed. "No way. You're a bottomless pit when it comes to food."

"I can survive without it!" The god shot back. As if on cue, his stomach gurgled loudly. He looked away sheepishly. "I can…" He repeated less forcefully. Lucy grabbed his wrist and began dragging him back to the kitchen.

When they were all sitting around the work table with fresh cups of coffee and buttered biscuits, Herobrine told them what happened. Orion nodded thoughtfully while Lucy glared into her coffee, steam practically pouring out of her ears.

"Why the dirty rotten witch! Oh if I ever get my hands on her…" Her voice trailed off into angry muttering.

"She was always a jealous person…" Herobrine shook his head. "I have to go find her."

"Then go find her. We aren't going to stop you. Just let us get some swords." Orion said brushing away biscuit crumbs.

"You are not coming with me."

"The hell we aren't!" Lucy shouted, surging up. "She's our best friend!"

"It's dangerous."

"Well too bloody bad!" Lucy's accent was heavy as she shouted.

'You really have no choice." Orion added. Herobrine frowned.

"So I don't…."