A Minecraft Tale: Miles vs. The World
A Minecraft Fan Fiction by: VGamer21
Note from the author: This time, I'm trying just writing this in Word first and not Minecraft, seeing as with the Book & Quill, you only have so many pages that can have only so many words. This isn't being planned ahead of time, so everything that's being written is coming off of the top of my head. I'm not guaranteeing that it'll be good, but not bad either. We'll see what happens.
When we last saw our hero, a young boy named Miles, he had managed to build himself a small shack in a clearing nestled inside a modest forest. It had not been much, but it was enough to withstand the night. He created some stone tools after managing to chip away at a nearby hillside for most of the afternoon. By the time night fell, he had found enough coal to provide lighting for his cottage. Now, all he had to do was hold out until the sun rose once again.
Once darkness set in over the surrounding countryside, a still, nervous quiet set in. The animals still wandered around, but in complete silence so as not to attract attention to themselves. The night creatures and them had a mutual agreement in which the former would not harm the latter unless aggravated or otherwise. This peace was kept since its founding, and kept both sides at ease. It was not until the arrival of an outsider that some began to feel that the peace was threatened. This was more so felt on the monsters' side than the other animals because they had known that the arrival of humans usually meant danger for them.
On the contrary, Miles was more afraid of the monsters, and at no real point felt it necessary to neither fight them nor prove his dominance over them. In fact, he was hoping to reach an agreement with them to let him live in peace without having his home threatened. Because of this, he had not ever wielded nor created any kind of weapon.
Miles sat huddled in the corner of his cottage farthest away from the door, hoping that the sun would come up quickly. Unfortunately, he would be waiting for what felt like forever for that to occur. By the time the sun did raise again, however, the monsters returned back to their homes, and all of the remaining animals began happily making noise again.
When he saw the light seep in through the openings in the door and heard activity outside pick up once again, he assumed that it was now safe to return outside, and soon set back to work digging away at the small hole he had already created. He also cut and replanted several more trees, which allowed him to expand the walls of his cottage to the size of a modest home. Taking advantage of the furnace he had previously built, he dug some sand from a nearby sandbar and managed to build some windows for his house. He began to feel more at home with his surroundings, and the animals began to feel less threatened by the new inhabitant who shared their land. Several chickens, in fact, which curiously meandered over to his house, were met by Miles with open arms and bread crumbs.
Not everyone was pleased, however, with the arrival of their intruder. That following night, several skeletons armed with bows had devised a plan to try to scare off Miles.
Once they had made sure that Miles had settled in for the night, a group of three skeletons snuck around to the side of his house that was not dotted with windows. Then, one of them snuck around to the front of the house and calmly knocked on the door. Miles, curious as to who would visit at night, opened the door. Upon seeing the skeleton in the doorway, his first instinct was to panic, but soon remembered that he had promised himself to try to make a pact with these creatures, and calmly invited the skeleton inside.
The skeleton calmly shot an arrow into Miles' shoulder.
Almost instantaneously, Miles began to scream in pain. The skeleton, amused by his work, quickly ran off and met with the other two accomplices to tell them of a job well done while Miles lay on the floor with blood coming out of the huge wound in his left shoulder.
After mustering up enough courage, he braced himself and promptly yanked the arrow out of his arm. Trying his best not to scream, he began examining the wound. The arrow had not gone too deep; he could easily bandage it and keep it clean, but with what? Seeing no real material that he could use for a bandage, he improvised by taking off his shirt and wrapping it around the wound. It was around this time that he vaguely remembered something about treating injuries.
Gathered around a small stage near the center of town, a returning adventurer told passersby of the importance of food when on your own.
"When it comes to making it on your own, food is one the most important things you need," he stated. "Without food, you won't last long at all. For some reason, food grown or gathered from animals seems to have special properties. Eating it seems to increase the speed at which injuries are healed. If you should remember one thing from me, let it be this: Food is important. The more food you have, the better off you'll be. The more full you are, the healthier you'll be, and the healthier you'll get if you're sick or hurt."
The memory still fresh in his mind, Miles quickly grabbed a piece of bread from a chest pushed against a wall and stuffed it in his mouth. Miraculously enough, the wound began healing surprisingly quickly; and within a few hours, all that was left was a small scar roughly the size of a small rock. He decided to wash his blood-stained shirt in the morning, and decide that tomorrow night he would go and negotiate with the monsters so that what happened that night would never happen again. He also decided that he should have some sort of protection in case that, should he be attacked again, he could be ready to defend himself. Using some left over stone from digging, he created a small sword that he felt would be enough to protect him in a pinch. He began to feel slightly safer after that night, partly due to the fact that he began to understand the threat of living on his own.
Once another day had gone by, he had washed his shirt in the nearby river, and harvested some wool from a wandering sheep, which was more than happy to oblige if it meant making peace with the monsters. When night fell, he went out to the open hillside with only a torch, a white flag signaling his unwillingness to fight, and his backup sword.
A few skeletons who were not involved in the previous night's ambush saw the flag and informed a few of the higher-up monsters that "the intruder (*shackle*) wishes to make a negotiation." A few of them agreed to "hear him out," and a small band consisting of a skeleton, zombie, and a tall, green, short-legged creature referred to in journals as a "Creeper," as they were notorious for creeping behind people and spontaneously exploding.
Miles saw the band of three monsters waving their own flag, and signaled for them to advance towards him with no intent of harm on either side. The four met on the top of a hill that was roughly in between Miles' house and the monsters' dens.
"Sssssoo," the green monster spoke, "you would like to make a deal with ussss. Interessssting."
"I must admit, it is rather unheard of (*creak*) for a human to want to reach an agreement with the likes of us," the skeleton confessed. The zombie simply grunted in agreement.
"Well," Miles started awkwardly, "I wasn't really planning on hunting your kind," facing each of the three monsters respectively, "or any of the other animals, for that matter. I was just hoping to start a home here and be able to do as I wish in peace."
"Well, it does seem that this is quite a predicament," the skeleton replied. "Perhaps it would be best for us to talk over this privately tonight."
"Take all the time you need."
"We will return tomorrow night with an ansssswer," the Creeper instructed, "Do NOT keep usss waiting."
"Oh, don't listen to him," the skeleton assured, "he just likes to be intimidating to keep his status over the rest of them." Miles sighed with relief. "We must be on our way, though. Neither me nor my friend here," motioning to the zombie next to him, who grunted in confirmation, "are not too fond of the sunlight. Hopefully we will have an answer for you tomorrow evening."
"I'll be waiting," Miles replied.
It was at this point that both parties went their separate ways. Miles returned to his home, and the monsters returned to their respective dens. Miles felt that it had gone rather well, but realized that he had forgotten to mention the previous ambush. Figuring that it would be sorted out in due time, he went back inside to rest for the next day. Still, there was an unsettling feeling resting in the back of his mind that there was some part of the negotiation that had gone unaccounted for. Thinking little of it, he soon drifted off to sleep.
Meanwhile, a tall black figure watched from across the river behind a nearby oak as the negotiation took place; a cold, empty look filling his eyes.
End of Chapter 2