Chapter Eight

*Brief Notice: Special thanks to Watcher321 and any and all who read this fic.

I sat close beside Steve, wiping stray tears from my eyes and glancing around the makeshift shelter he had made out of the back of a cave. Any picture of Herobrine's nightmare had faded to a mere shadow of what it was a few minutes ago.

Steve rested his elbows on his knees and drew the scrap of paper from his inventory, holding it delicately in his fingers.

"This is my family," he said quietly. I looked at the paper, and through the flicker of torchlight, I saw that it was a photograph of five people.

The first was a tall, brown-haired man with olive skin who had his arm around a woman with the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen. However, her gaze was unfocused and covered by a milky film to match one of the two little boys beside her. Each brother looked just like his father in nearly every aspect, save for the bright blue eyes. The last person in the picture stood beside her father—a young woman with soft blonde hair and eyes to match her brothers'.

"This is my father, Aaron and my mother, Cassandra." Steve said, pointing. "That's my sister Marion and that's me and Michael."

"Hold on a moment," I said, squinting at the photograph. "Earlier your grandmother said that you looked like your mother. Your mother is blonde."

Steve glanced at me, looking faintly amused.

"Gran just says that because she doesn't like my father. She didn't think it was right for her only daughter to fall in love with a miner." he said. "I can see why she would think that…Mother was a woman who deserved a prince."

"You were so cute back then," I acknowledged after a moment, looking at the smiling, skinny little boy hugging his twin brother with one arm. "What happened?" Steve chuckled softly.

"I grew up." he said. Then his smile faded. "Not that I had much of a choice."

He drew a breath, then began.

"Michael and I were nine years old when he started to distance himself from us. He was always shy and reserved, but he suddenly began to be antisocial and secretive, as if he were hiding something. My sister was the first to discover that he'd been sneaking off into the forest at night with a mysterious book. We tried to get him to tell us what the book was and why he was hiding it from us, but he got angry and lashed out at my sister. She was badly hurt, and it was then that we knew something was terribly wrong. We locked Michael in his room and went to the town cleric, taking the book with us. When we got there, Father Alexander told us that the item Michael had been keeping from us was one of the four Books of Notch, written by a lost race. When found, they could be used as powerful tools for the benefit of our realm."

"I think I've heard of them…but I thought it was only a legend." I said.

"That's the problem." Steve told me. "Legends are a little different each time someone tells them, and Father Alexander was only half correct. Two of the Books were authored for the sake of good, written by the Valkyries and the Dragon Riders, while two of them were meant to destroy. The Withers and the Shade were a wicked and cruel race that ruled over half of the world in darkness and tyranny, while the Valkyries and the Dragon Riders maintained a realm of light and peace."

"How do you know this?" I asked in quiet awe. Steve pulled the white book I had seen the other day out of his inventory and set it in his lap.

"Because I have the Book of the Valkyries." Steve told me. He flipped open the worn, brown pages, displaying diagrams and words. "This is an accurate history of what happened almost a thousand years ago, and long story short, the four races fought and ended up banishing each other. The Withers and the Shade were imprisoned in the Nether, and the Valkyries and the Dragon Riders were sent to the End. Only their Books were left behind, and those were scattered across the world."

"And your brother found one?"

"We aren't sure how he got it, but yes, Michael happened upon the Book of the Shade. Father Alexander told us not to worry, that Michael had probably just eaten some poisonous berry and was acting strange due to hallucinations—if a blind boy could have them. However, the next day, Father Alexander was found dead over the altar, a black iron sword through his heart. This wasn't an accident, because when Father and I came home, Marion and my mother were dead, ripped to pieces."

I drew in a breath.

"Oh my Notch," I whispered.

"Michael stood in the hallway, soaked in blood and carrying that book in his arms. Father told me to run, to leave and never return, and in a last desperate effort to save me, he burned the house down. I haven't been back to that place since."

Silence fell like a stone dropped into a lake.

Finally, I reached out and placed my hand against his wrist.

"Steve, I'm sorry," I whispered. "But it wasn't your fault. There wasn't anything you could have done."

"You're wrong. Michael was my brother…I should have been there for him." Steve said bitterly, shaking his head.

"How? He was possessed by a demonic book!"

"I don't know!" Steve cried, getting to his feet. He raked his hands through his hair and leaned against the stone wall. "But Herobrine was right when he called me a murderer. It was my fault that they were killed."

I went to him and grabbed his arm.

"This happened, like what…twenty years ago?" I asked.

"Exactly twenty years ago." Steve confirmed.

"Then you've been running from your past for two entire decades. Nothing is going to change, Steve." I told him.

"What do you know?" His tone was a half-hearted attempt at being rough.

"Only what you've told me. You've been running from Herobrine so that you can protect yourself from what he did to you, and this whole time you've been blaming yourself for something that you didn't have any control over."

"I've been running from Herobrine to protect innocent people!" Steve shouted, turning on me. "He's a monster, and he isn't going to stop until everyone close to me is dead!"

"Then what are you going to do about it?"

Steve went silent for a while, his icy blue eyes boring into me. I stared him down, my jaw clenched.

He raised his hands and clasped my shoulders.

"I am going to bring you back to your family. And then I'm going to keep running. It's the only thing I can do to protect myself and the ones I care about." he said.

"Althea, we are not getting a horse." Steve said.

"Why not?" I asked, reaching out to the big, white mare in front of me. She let me pat her felted muzzle, then stroke her neck.

"Because…um…." Steve protested.

"It will cut our travel time in half, plus make it harder for Herobrine to catch us." I told him, climbing onto the mare's back. She tolerated me for a little while, then nickered dangerously, prompting me to slide off and feed her more carrots from my inventory before she would allow me to saddle her.

"Well…uh…I said no! Now, come on!" Steve huffed.

"Are you scared?" I taunted.

"Nuhyas."

"What the heck is a 'Nuhyas'?"

"Nothing. Get off of that thing so we can get going." Steve planted his hands on his hips and glowered up at me.

"You are scared!" I jumped out of the saddle.

"I am not!" he cried.

"Are so."

"Am not!"

"Uh-huh,"

"Not!"

"You totally are."

"I'm really not."

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at him. His tanned face was stained with pink.

"Prove it." I challenged, smirking.

"I don't have to justify myself to you!" Steve cried indignantly, glaring back at me.

"You wouldn't have a problem with it if you weren't a really big baby." I poked the center of his muscular chest.

"I am not a baby." he growled. I walked behind him and shoved him forward.

"Then ride her!"

"OH NOTCH NO." he shouted as he stumbled forward, then staggered backwards. He fell onto his butt and scrambled away from my new mount, who regarded him with round, dark eyes.

"Admit it. You're scared of horses." I giggled. He glared up at me, biting his lip and screwing up his face.

"Okay…yes…I'm scared of horses." he said bitterly. "Are you happy now?"

"Why?" I asked, smiling at him and offering him my hand.

"I don't know! They're just…big and…creepy-looking…and big." Steve muttered, taking my fingers and pulling himself up.

"So are you." I told him, addressing the fact that the top of my head only met his collarbone. He had to be at least 6'5".

"I am not creepy-looking," Steve said defensively.

"Then neither is she." I told him. "Now what should I call her?"

"Nothing."

"Snowflake! No, that sounds like a little girl named her…um…Misty! Nope. Not that one either. Oh, I got it! I'm going to name her Cassandra." I shot a look at Steve. He was glaring at me with enough force to set paper on fire.

"That was below the belt, Althea." he growled.

"Well, now we have to keep her." I smiled, climbing into the saddle. I patted the space behind me with one hand and stroked Cassandra's neck with the other. She shook her mane and pawed the ground, ready to go at my next command.

"There aren't words to describe how much I hate you right now." Steve grumbled, raking his hands through his thick, brown hair.

A few moments later, I felt his chest pressing against my back and his arms locked so tightly around my waist that I could hardly breathe.

"Steve…you aren't going to die," I gasped. "But I might…if you don't ease up a little bit."

He muttered something inaudible and buried his face between my shoulder blades. I rolled my eyes and tapped my heels into Cassandra's sides, urging her forward into a walk.

Steve yelled a stream of stifled cuss-words into my back and hugged me tighter. I was pretty sure that after this whole ordeal, I would be several sizes thinner.

"Stop that! It isn't that bad!" I said, grabbing his wrist and trying to get him to let me out of the death grip.

He shouted something else that didn't make any sense whatsoever.

"Alright, you asked for it." I growled, gripping the reins and spurring Cassandra into a full gallop. Steve squeezed my pancreas into my chest cavity and hollered at least fifty differently-worded curses into my shirt.

Steve slid to the ground, lying flat on his back and gasping at the darkening sky.

"Oh Notch, oh Notch, oh Notch…" he muttered.

Cassandra gave an amused nicker, making Steve flinch and scoot away. I was torn between laughing and checking his pulse to see if his heart had failed him.

Instead, I dismounted and unsaddled Cassandra, then went to gather things for a fire.

"Steve, start building a shelter." I called, picking up fallen sticks. "We need a way to keep the mobs out."

It had taken three days to cross the desert, one more to traverse the plain where we found Cassandra, and now our fourth day from the swamp was coming to a close. That meant that I had been traveling with Steve for eleven days now, and after our horse-back riding adventure, we had at least shaved off another three days of travel off of the original fourteen.

Tonight was my last night away from home.

And my last night with Steve.

Something inside of me lurched unpleasantly at the thought of not having any more adventures with him, even though I missed my bed and my room and my house more than anything.

"Steve," I asked when I returned to the small clearing we had stopped in. He was still lying on the ground.

"Yes?" he replied pointedly.

"Well…when I get home…" I began, setting my armful of firewood on the ground. "Will I ever see you again?"

Steve didn't reply to this, instead he chose to sit up and get to his feet.

"I should probably start building a shelter." he said.

Mobs were beginning to spawn by the time he finished. I had already lit a fire and had started to warm up pieces of dried beef for our dinner, which I brought to him on the pieces of parchment paper they had originally been wrapped in.

We ate quietly, listening to the growls and hisses coming from outside. Ever since the night I met Herobrine, the spawn rates had been higher than ever.

"No," Steve suddenly said.

"What?"

"No, you won't see me again."

"O-Oh." I murmured. Once again, my insides jerked violently, and I felt a strange mixture of anger, confusion…and sadness. "Why not?" I asked pathetically.

"Herobrine's power is weaker when more people are around, but I'm not willing to put your entire town at risk. I can't stay for more than an hour or two. After that, I'm not coming back." Steve explained. His fingers were laced together in front of him.

"I see." I said, suddenly feeling miserable. "I just…"

"Just what?" Steve looked up at me, his cornflower-blue eyes as soft as his voice. For a third time, some invisible force tugged at my insides. I scooted closer to him, pressing my shoulder against his.

"I'm…just going to…miss you." I muttered. "I mean…I've done so many exciting things with you…and now I have to go back to my normal life."

Steve gave a heavy sigh.

"I was afraid this was going to happen." he said.

"I know, I'm sorry." I apologized rapidly, holding up my hands. "I'm making this hard."

Steve gazed at me for a long time.

"There is power in a name, Althea. Are you going to live up to yours?" he finally asked, changing the subject.

"Are you being cheesy?" I laughed, even though my vision was welling up with unbidden tears. I sniffed and wiped them away with my knuckles.

"No. Well, yes, but not like that." Steve gave a chuckle. "What I'm trying to say is that my name means honor. Your name means truth, remember?"

"S-so what?" I whimpered. Tears were coming faster than I could scrub them away. "H-how do y-you even know s-something like that?"

"It's an old Valkyrie translation, but that's beside the point." Steve said. I sniffled and gazed at him. "I want you to promise me that you'll never once lie to yourself or others, even if it means that something bad might happen."

A weird sense of calm and control settled over me.

"I promise." I sniffed. "But you have to swear something in return."

"And what's that?" he asked. In that strange clarity that had smoothed away the rough edges of sadness, I had decided to keep to my promise even now. I wasn't going lie. Even if it meant that part of me was going to leave me forever.

"Hold still."

At that, I took his face in my hands and leaned forward….