A/N: Warning: There may be increased amounts of swearing because this is rated T and I want to abuse my right to write swear words. :3

Chapter 8:

Two hours after Steve's "departure" from Sylder;

Tevon scowled, pacing back and forth across the throne room, slowly wearing a trench in the very expensive carpet. Those useless soldiers couldn't even catch a walking miner on horseback!

"Stupid guards." He muttered. "Stupid Crafter, who just won't die! And even stupider sorcerer guy who messed up my plans!" And left him with a burn mark on his butt, too. Now the prince couldn't sit down properly because he had a burn on his gluteus maximus and couldn't bear the humiliation of having a physician look at it. He'd be the laughing stock of the century!

Tevon scowled again, twisting his features up even more. Now how was he supposed to prove himself to be a hero and get in Notch's Elites? Crafter didn't really matter now, though, not once the Aether was alerted of his crimes. A petty smirk formed on Tevon's arrogant pie-hole. The Aetherians were going to hunt him down and kill him in all sorts of painful and creative ways, or so he hoped. Herobrine wasn't the only thing the miner had to watch out for now.

Wait a moment...

The words "hunt" and "Herobrine" slowly came together in the prince's extremely slow mind, followed by the word "fame". Tevon grinned. If he wanted to get in the Rangers... All he had to do is to kill the Creator's worst enemy. He'll get more than just a ticket into the Elites, he'd get his name written in every boring educational history book made for preschoolers. He just had to kill one teeny, tiny ghost. With his skill with a sword, and his *ahem* borrowed weapon, it should be easy! Maybe a few guards to witness the deed as well...

Tevon felt pleased with his stupid self. Now all he had to do is to figure out Herobrine's location.

We hurtled through the forest, stopping occasionally to catch our breath. Behind us, the zombies moaned and skeleton arrows whizzed past, none actually coming close to hitting. The villagers had given up the chase long ago. Why did I repeatedly end up having to run away these past few days?

"Can't we just... dig ourselves into a hole and... cover the top with dirt?" I panted.

Horus shook his head. "Either the zombies smell you and dig you up, or the creepers literally blow your cover." he replied.

"What about... obsidian?" I suggested.

"If you have enough to build a box, we can do that. But we don't have any obsidian right now." He replied dryly. Of course he'd know. He still had everything that was in my Inventory save my sword, which he had given to me not long ago.

"Where are... we going?"

"A friend of mine. I wasn't planning on going there originally, as she doesn't like unexpected visitors." He answered. "We may be shot at," he added quietly.

"Wait a second-" I gasped.

We ran into a dead end. There was a cliff right in front of us, and if we'd tried to climb over then we'd definitely get shot, even with the skeletons' extraordinary skill of hitting things five miles away from the intended target. The forest closed around us menacingly, as if trying to swallow us up in its murky green depths.

"My bad." Horus muttered. "Miscalculation. Forgot she lived on a cliff." Good one there. Remind me to thank your bad memory when we burn in the Nether.

The first zombies had caught up by now, and they shuffled forwards, moaning. Luckily, they didn't have weapons or armour.

I drew my sword and got into a fighting stance. Behind me, I heard a rasp of metal signifying the draw of a weapon.

A zombie shuffled in front of the others and made a sloppy lunge at me. I ducked under its swinging arms and flicked my sword in an upward slash. The blade cut through the rotten flesh easily like a hot knife through butter. The head and left arm of the zombie fell away as the rest of it toppled to the ground.

Behind me, something whistled through the air. I ducked instinctively as a scythe-like weapon passed to my left and flew in an arc, cutting all the zombies in half before completing the circle, returning to Horus' hand.

"What was that?" I asked in disbelief. Weapons didn't just aim themselves and then return to your hand.

"Pointy object plus slight manipulation of the air equals dead things." Horus answered in a matter-of-fact tone. If I could do maths like he did, maybe I'd stop hating maths classes.

Then the skellies came.

Their arrival was announced by several arrows hissing through the air, none of them actually getting close to us due to aforementioned amazing skill at hitting objects sitting in the opposite direction of the target. I started strafing left and right in order to avoid being shot. I heard a few pinging noises coming from where Horus was, which probably meant he was deflecting the arrows rather than dodging.

Flash bastard.

I ran towards the skeleton closest to me. It didn't even get the time to react before being reduced to a pile of bones. "This is revenge for my first day in the Overworld." I muttered under my breath.

I heard a whistling sound behind me and ducked instinctively as a stray arrow sailed over my head. I darted towards the offending Mob, running in a zigzag pattern. Upon reaching it I sliced the bow of the second skeleton in half and decapitated it. Then I charged towards my third skeleton.

I may have gotten a bit overconfident, because I barely dodged the arrow this time. It scraped my neck and left a bleeding gash in its wake, fortunately not damaging any arteries. Another arrow came towards me and I ducked behind a nearby tree. Then two more thunks followed as arrows hit the tree. I shuddered. That could have being me. I decided to play it safe and threw my sword instead. It sliced through the spine of the skeleton and downed it for good.

Three down, lots to go- oh.

Horus was standing in front of a pile of bones.

I retrieved my sword and just as I turned around...

I went flying through the air with all the grace of a demented chicken.

What just happened-

Bam! A fist connected with the side of my face.

Thinking it was Horus, I yelled:"What's the big idea-

Then I saw the Enderman.

"Hey-? Do I know you?" I offered a nervous smile. And got punched in the face in return. "Ow! Hey! I come from the End too! You might've seen me around the End somewhere!". I looked at Horus, discovering that he was engaged with another bunch of Mobs. His scythe flashed, a gleaming blur in the night, and seemed to glow eerily whenever he zapped a Mob into ashes.

He also appeared to be repeatedly yelling something that sounded suspiciously like : "Carrots! Carrots, carrots carrots carrots!"

"H'rayka." The Enderman hissed, attempting to hit me again. I ducked, narrowly missing being punched again.

"What's a rake-arr? Is it some sort of piratical gardening tool?" I asked in some state of confusion. The Enderman gave me a puzzled look, like he was trying to figure out what was going on. I took my opportunity and darted forwards while he was distracted and quickly kicked the Enderman's feet out from under him. He fell with a grunt, and was just preparing to teleport away when the edge of my sword bit through his neck. I sighed. Killing Endermen never felt right with me, even if they were the ones trying to kill me in the first place. I picked up the Enderman's Ender Pearl and stowed it in my Inventory as an afterthought.

The nearest Mob was another skeleton aiming a bow in my face, so I chucked my sword and split its skull in half before I could get turned into a pincushion.

Just as I turned to retrieve my sword, a flash of green flickered across the edge of my vision.

A creeper was sneaking up on Horus, very quietly.

Crap. I cursed mentally. Had to happen just after I throw my sword.

I cried out in warning as the the Mob began to flash white. Horus lashed out with astonishing speed and kicked the creeper into a wall of oncoming monsters.

There was a deafening boom, and the size of the undead army was reduced by a quarter.

Horus moved back and looked up expectantly.

Something zipped past and hit a Mob, dropping it instantly. Then what seemed like a storm of fiery arrows arced down from above and reduced the remaining Mobs to piles of items. The rest of the Mobs disappeared at an alarming speed, as if they had come into contact with the owner of the said arrows in the past and wasn't too keen on repeating the experience.

A familiar figure with fiery orange hair dropped down on a rope and aimed her bow at me. She lowered it after a second. Oh, so that's who the 'friend' was.

"Steve." Alex said in greeting. Her eyes moved to my left and narrowed. "And... Horus? What are you doing here?"

"Carrots. You took your sweet time there." Horus appeared next to me so suddenly that I jumped.

"Wait... Carrots?" I mumbled. Then shut my mouth when Alex shot me a death glare. "And you two know each other?" I asked quite pointlessly.

Alex looked at us suspiciously, as if we might be zombies in disguise. "What are you doing here?"

I tried to speak, but Horus beat me to it. "Long story short, our mutual acquaintance became extremely inebriated and decided to become a pyromaniac."

"Let's not do this out here." Alex sighed. "The Mobs may be slightly fearful of me, but that only means they'll come back with their friends as well."

She walked over to a boulder and reached under it, pulling a hidden lever (wait, we could have just done that?!). A hidden passageway opened in the cliff face.

"Come on." She called impatiently. "Let's get up there already."

So, Alex. I'd run into her once chasing down a thief who had stolen some of my stuff. Turned out the same person had stolen from her as well, so we'd teamed up together to catch the culprit. Then I'd run into her a second time when me and a group of us Elites were killing off a Mob congregation. The same Kingdom had hired her as a sell-sword for the same job, so we fought together again. The third time I met her was when she came to the Aether to file a complaint to Notch on a corrupt royal family. The waiting line for Notch's attention at that time was probably 100 people long and 1000 people deep, so I'd offered to let her stay at my house. Somewhere along the line we decided to become friends, though I haven't the foggiest idea when.

"Funny." I said to Alex. "I've known you for eight years but I've never been to your house, though you've been to mine even if it was up in the Aether."

"An experience I never want to repeat again." Alex scowled. "Your house looked like a place silverfish would thrive in. Not to mention your snobby neighbours..." she shuddered. "One of the advantages to living on the top of a cliff is that you don't get annoying neighbours, scheming door-to-door salesmen or fishy "friends" turning up at entirely the wrong hour." she gave Horus the stink eye. Which had zero effect on him.

Yes, laugh away. Right now, the only two people I could trust were both social outcasts (I wasn't too sure about Horus yet). Though if I said that out loud Alex would most likely drop an anvil on my head. Her aim with anvils and frying pans were legendary. They should make a song about that and scare little kids with it instead of the senseless Herobrine poem.

Alex's house looked like it would contain more than ten inhabitants comfortably, and was decorated in such a fancy way it looked like someone was perpetually getting ready for Notchmas. The fenced garden was enormous, with its own pond, farm plot, chicken pen and Mob head collection. There was also a stone statue of someone who looked like me (though I couldn't quite make it out in the dark) with a target attached to its face and around fifty arrows stuck in it. I almost felt sorry for the guy. Horus made a small sound that could have been a chuckle when he saw it.

We stopped in front of the door. Alex opened it and stopped us just before we went in.

"Wait a minute." She whispered, peeking through the opening cautiously. "I gotta make sure he's not in h- Yowch!" What seemed like a giant russet furball shot out of the house and bowled Alex to the ground, where it proceeded to give her a thorough licking.

"Bad dog!" Alex yelled, trying unsuccessfully to shove the animal off her. I bit back a laugh. The fearsome, invincible warrior Alex defeated by a mere dog. Her enemies shall rejoice. There were so many of them they wouldn't all fit on a small continent.

Alex finally managed to get the excited beast to stop licking her and sat up. "Ugh!" She spat, attempting to wipe the saliva off her face. The dog just sat by her side and whined. Wait- did I say dog?

The enormous animal was at least as big as a horse. It looked almost like a rust-coloured wolf, except for, well, basically everything that wasn't its head. It had two long, slender tails ending in wicked barbs of bone, short, stubby spikes sticking out of its spine, four paws socked in scarcely visible flames, and slitted yellow eyes that shed their own light.

"Impressive." Horus commented. I gave a start, surprised. He hadn't spoken for some time. "Where did you get a pet Netherwolf from?"

"Sylder Forest is known for its unusual inhabitants." Alex grumbled. "This thing just followed me home one day. It's still a puppy though, so it doesn't know how to speak yet." She glared at Horus. "Also, do not call me Carrots ever again." Yes, Sylder Forest was indeed known for its unusual inhabitants. Alex being a prime example.

She turned and led us inside.

Her house was very brightly lit, and it was all very neat in there. Definitely better than my house on a good day.

"I didn't expect visitors, so I didn't make an effort to tidy this place."

"You wouldn't bother cleaning up even if you did know we were coming." I snorted. Then thought better of it. "I mean, it's already very tidy. Like the Aether Labs." Alex threw me a dirty look.

"I mean, before Jeb manages to blow it up." I added hastily. She ignored me this time, fortunately. The evangar sat near Horus' feet and lowered its head, as if bowing to an old master. Horus bent down and seemed to whisper something into its ear while absentmindedly stroking it.

Suddenly I felt very tired. I yawned, and then tried to cover my mouth. My headache, which had been forgotten in the rush of adrenalin from fighting, came back even worse. My head suddenly felt like something stuck on an anvil with a hammer coming down on it repeatedly.

"I- gotta... go sleep." I managed to get out.

Alex just waved to one of the rooms. Horus didn't seem to hear, he was too busy stroking the wolf's fur. I dragged myself in and simply collapsed on the bed like a sack of potatoes.

Sleep came as soon as my head hit the pillowless mattress.

A young boy laughed as he ran on the faintly glowing surface of the End. Above him, the perpetually dark skies were filled with winking stars. An equally young Enderman followed after him, looking slightly out of breath.

"Wait up!" the Enderman puffed.

"What, can't you keep up now, Sirras?" the boy's violet eyes sparkled as he grinned.

The Enderman looked none too pleased. "If you'd let me teleport, I'd beat you in seconds!".

"But what's the fun in that?" the boy asked. "I can't teleport, so all I'd be doing is losing!"

The Enderman suddenly got a mischievous look on his face. He teleported an inch away from the boy and tagged him. "You're it!" he shouted, jumping back, smirking.

"Hey!" the boy shouted. "Foul play!"

The Enderman grinned, standing barely four meters in front of the boy. "Come and get me now, if you can."

The boy leapt forwards, and the Enderman flickered away. "You can't get me!"

The boy growled something under his breath. Suddenly, the boy disappeared in a shower of Ender Particles and reappeared next to the Enderman, crashing into him and knocking them both into the ground.

"Woah!" the Enderman gasped. "You can teleport too!"

The boy looked a bit dizzy and very confused. "What?"

"We gotta tell my parents!" the Enderman took the boy's hand and prepared to teleport away.

"And..." he added with a grin:" From this day on, we are going to play tag with teleportation allowed!"

I slowly came back to consciousness like a whale resurfacing after a long dive. My ear was pressed against the wall. Someone was talking, but it was too faint to make out what they were saying.

"Certain people are about awake as a boulder" Alex, from the sound of the voice.

More murmuring. Probably Horus.

"I don't understand. There's something wrong in the End?"

Horus said something that I couldn't hear. He was speaking real quietly.

"You're saying you've felt that thing's signature before, but you're not sure what it is?"

Silence. Maybe a nod.

"Why do you want me to stay here? I could help!"

"Please, Alex." Horus said quietly. "I have my reasons"

The rest of their conversation faded into obscurity as I drifted off to sleep again.

I woke up on an extremely hard surface, staring at a wooden ceiling. Where was I again?

Oh, right. On Alex's stone floor. I'd fallen off the bed before I woke up. Was that an achievement?

Also, what's up with all these dreams? There'd been more and more of them recently, and the visions were always crystal clear. I could even feel the wind in some of them. Were they real? Maybe I was some sort of seer or something. Well, at least I knew the dream about Xeraph was real, because a few years ago he'd figured out how to link people's dreams and all that and filled quite a few of my dreams with images of rainbow Endermites dancing in a meadow. I'd developed insomnia before he'd seen fit to stop.

I sat up, and immediately fell back down again. A night of sleeping on the stone floor had obviously not done any favours for my back. After a few attempts, I managed to get myself upright.

Maybe Horus could answer the dream problem? Or not, because while he didn't look angry last night (at all), I had a feeling he's pissed at me. Maybe drinking wasn't such a good idea?

I went towards the door and tripped on a hard object, falling to the floor with a loud thump. I got up and inspected the mischievous culprit. On closer inspection, the culprit was a wooden chest containing all my gear. Except the flint and steel. The empty spot where the flint and steel should have been seemed to glare at me pointedly. I winced a little. Okay, maybe Horus was a little bit angry. Just maybe.

After stashing everything back into my Inventory, I made my way to the front door. There was no point in staying in the house all day, doing nothing.

As soon as I stepped out of the door, I was met with a face full of excited Netherwolf.

"No! Ashariel! Bad wolf!" Alex yelled as the wolf bowled me over and covered me with saliva.

The wolf got off my chest and bounded back to Alex.

"Uhhhh" I groaned. The zombies would have mistaken me as one of their own. Notch could assign me as a spy- oh wait, he'd just stick me in prison.

Alex gave me a hand up, seemingly impervious to the drool on every inch of my clothing.

"You're up" she noted. Her flame coloured hair was tied back in a rough ponytail and her forest green eyes seemed to have an extra shine to them like she wasn't staying up all night talking to a certain someone. The Netherwolf sat at her feet, golden eyes sparkling playfully.

"Uh, yeah. Where's Horus, by the way?" I asked while attempting to scrape the wolf spit off with the edge of my pickaxe.

"He forgot the fact that humans needed to rest and apparently didn't sleep for the last four days." Alex replied. "As of now, he is dead unconscious, and in an actual bed." she scowled. "Fortunately he didn't forget that humans also have to eat."

I glanced at my clock. "It's... almost midday. Not like him to sleep in."

Alex shrugged. "Didn't sleep for the past four days, remember? Oh, and. -" She paused for a bit, throwing a cautious look at the house as if to make sure Horus wouldn't hear. "-When he wakes up, don't go near him for at least half an hour. He will be in a very foul mood."

"So, Carrots-"

Clang-ang-ang-ang

I groaned, clutching the side of my face as I tried to recover from the blow dealt by Alex's frying pan. "W-what's with you and frying pans?" I asked, head still ringing. She smiled sweetly at me as she put the menacing object away. "Don't call me Carrots" she said, still smiling.

"Anyway," I said, trying to change the subject and painfully aware of the sore face. "The evangi is named Ashariel?"

Alex smiled, patting the wolf. "Not until yesterday. Horus insisted. Though why, I don't know either. He doesn't talk very often, so when he does, it's usually worth listening to."

"Doesn't talk often? He seemed pretty normal to me. Well, aside from everything else." I said, surprised.

"Usually when he talks, it's to make a death threat" Alex shrugged again.

"What's up with him?"

"Just a Crafter of few words, I guess." Alex looked away. "Anyway, what do you want him for?"

"I know this sounds crazy..." I shifted uncomfortably. "But I've been having these weird dreams lately... they feel so, well, real." I'd half expected her to laugh at me but she seemed to take it seriously.

Alex contemplated what I said. "What did you dream about? Give me an example."

I thought about it. "A castle/fortress thing practically blown to pieces by a mass creeper attack and dead Mobs lying everywhere. There was a guy in the middle of it who was somehow still alive with a scythe thing next to him." Then I realised something. "Wait, the scythe thingy looked exactly the same as the one Horus has!"

"Hmmm. Well, there's this explanation for dreams like this." Alex thought for a moment. "When big things happen, memories remain, and the universe tends to..." She searched for the right word.

"Echo them." came a voice from right behind me. I yelped and did a 360 in the air. And found my face three inches away from Horus'.

Cobalt blue eyes stared into mine coolly.

I took a step back and fell over, landing on my butt. Nearby, Alex laughed loudly. "You know, Steve," she chortled. "If you do end up losing your job, you can always become a clown."

"Glad to see you noticed my talents." I grouched, picking myself up off the ground.

"The universe tends to echo them" Horus repeated, unruffled. "And when people go near to an object that was in the memory, or goes to the place where it happened... They see the echoes." he looked very tired, as if he hadn't slept all night, but his voice remained smooth. He was wearing his usual black t-shirt, blue pants, and leather boots. He looked like he'd just gotten out of bed, and still needed six hours of sleep.

"Besides, the 'scythe thingy' is a single bladed pickaxe."

"So what's causing them? I'm pretty sure I haven't been near the places where those things happened." I was a bit confused. By this point, Alex had left the conversation in order to satisfy her wolf's urge to play fetch. I could see the monster jumping over the house after the stick at times.

Instead of answering, he pulled the blade he always fought with out of his Inventory and held tin front of him. The sunlight hit the weapon, causing it to flash brilliantly silver, gleaming with a somewhat surreal light.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked. It looked... surreal.

"A dead body," he replied calmly, putting the pickaxe back. "It's time to go."

"Now? You look like you need another twelve hours of sleep!" I protested. He just gave me a pointed look that said Well, whose fault is that?

Feeling guilty, I clammed up and went to say goodbye to Alex.

We were back in the forest before long, walking our backsides off again. How big even is thing? And Nether, was it noisy. Birds everywhere, insects chirping in the trees. Horus, on the contrary, was keeping himself entirely silent. I attempted multiple times to start a conversation with him with minimal success.

"What was the name of the other person who was raised in the End?" I asked as I ducked under a swinging branch. Horus, as usual, simply ignored me.

I got a little fed up with him. Sure, he didn't like to talk, but that doesn't mean he had to ignore me every single damned time.

"Look, man. I'm tired of you ignoring me like I'm not there when I ask a question. We're traveling together and you won't even speak to me!" I snapped, losing my patience.

Horus spun around, blue eyes blazing. I held his stare, even though I wanted to crawl away and die inside.

After a moment. he sighed and closed his eyes.

"Aritas" he said softly. "His name was Aritas."

When he opened his eyes again there was a haunting sadness in its sapphire depths.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned around and walked on.

After a few paces, he suddenly stopped. I almost crashed into him, barely managing to stop myself as I slipped and fell to the ground from the unexpected stop.

"What is it this time?" I snapped in irritation, picking myself up grumpily and brushing the leaves from my clothes.

"I smell smoke" he murmured absentmindedly. Then he broke into a sprint at breakneck pace. I cursed and ran after him, struggling to keep up with all the branches lashing at my unprotected face.

Then, just as I thought I'd lost him, I rounded a corner in the bush and stopped just outside the forest.

In front of me was a picture of chaos and carnage. There was a town, a quite nice town at that- or would have been if it wasn't on fire. The rooftops were all ablaze like giant Notchmas candles, and the people in the streets were all running around like headless sheep, screaming their heads off. Dead bodies lay on the streets- mostly animals, but there was the occasional decapitated human (if there were any dead Crafters they would have disintegrated into piles of gear).

And standing in front of it all was Horus, staring at the scene with unreadable eyes.

I jogged to his side. "What's going on?!" I had to shout above the cacophony to make myself heard.

As if in answer, somebody stumbled towards us and fell to his knees, staring up at me with imploring eyes.

"The village," he choked. "Madman. Murderer."

He reeked of smoke, and was missing most of his hair. Something with claws had taken an enterprising swipe at his chest. Judging by the size of the scratched, a crazed housecat.

"What's going on here?" I asked while helping him to his feet.

"The White Eyed One." He breathed dramatically. "Herobrine has come."

Then he passed out.

Alex (at ten years old in Crafter age)

Alex sniffled, and wiped her nose on her sleeve. She gritted her teeth and picked up the bow lying at her feet. Drawing the bowstring back, she aimed, and fired. The arrow whizzed past the burnt and crumbling buildings and missed the slowly shambling zombie by a meter, joining the other used arrows stuck on the ground in the zombie's wake. The zombie shuffled towards her like nothing had happened.

Alex threw down her bow in frustration, wiping her eyes on a sooty sleeve. It wasn't fair! The village had absolutely nil Mob invasions for the past century (or so she had been told) it didn't make sense that one would happen now. She could still remember her father pushing her into the cellar as vividly as day, still feel his final hug, wrapped around her like a protective cloak, still hear the screams ringing in her ears as she hid in the safety of her cellar, curled into a ball. The wail of loss from her mother... and the worst of all, the utter silence that ensued, broken occasionally by the crackling of fire and the loud, sickly crunching sound of the zombies feeding. For all their superior sense of smell, the zombies hadn't found her, though she heard creepers detonating and the screams of the other children as they were dragged from their shelters, then abruptly silenced.

A cough broke through her chain of thought. She whirled towards it, fists raised.

A boy with dark sapphire eyes and jet black hair, looking no more than ten years old (like her) stood next to the burnt out shell of a building that used to belong to her next door neighbor, out of sight of the approaching zombie.

"I'd suggest using that bow to shoot the zombie, instead of trying to break it." He said, leaning against the remains of the door frame.

Alex looked at him suspiciously. He certainly wasn't from her town, and since this was on the top of a mountain in the middle of the wilderness, what sort of little boy in his right mind would come here?

"What are you doing here?" She questioned the boy with a no-nonsense look while picking up her bow again. She considered aiming it at him, because dammit, he was suspicious as all heck, but eventually decided against it as she hadn't managed to hit anything so far.

"I'm older than I look." He replied. "Crafter" he added as an afterthought.

Alex became aware of the zombie approaching her, now not far away. She lifted the bow.

But before she could shoot, the boy was suddenly beside her. He moved her arm a bit to the right and adjusted her stance so she was side on. He placed his hands beside hers on the bow and drew back, an arrow popping onto the bowstring with a fizz and a crack of orange light. He moved back and looked at her expectantly.

"Now would be a good time to shoot." he advised. Too surprised to do anything otherwise, Alex did what she was told. The arrow arced towards the zombie and embedded itself in its left eye socket. The zombie went down and disintegrated into a pile of rotten flesh. Alex wrinkled her nose in disgust. That was for my parents. She said mentally.

"What are you doing out here?" the boy asked. "I know you are a Crafter, so why didn't you build yourself a shelter?"

"Avenging my friends and parents" she muttered. "I'll become a Mob hunter when I grow up" her fists tightened on her bow. " They say Herobrine commands the Mobs. One day, ghost or not. I'll find him and put an end to him. For my family" the last part she said in a whisper. The boy winced at the last four sentences, but Alex didn't notice.

"That is very ambitious of you. I will watch with interest. But for now, we must find a shelter." He turned on his heels and walked away. "Follow me!" he called over his shoulder.

Alex snapped out of her trance and ran after the black-haired boy. "Wait! I don't even know your name yet!"

Lemme do a bit of explaining.

Crafters age slower than regular humans. 'Crafter Age' is basically the age the Crafter looks like. One Crafter year is roughly two human years. A Crafter, once they reach a certain age past ten Crafter years will simply stop ageing. The age-stop is random. You might stay young in your teenage years forever or get old and have to deal with arthritis for the rest of your very, very long life.

Crafters do not die unless killed by sickness, poison, or sharp objects. And the occasional creeper or TNT explosion and drowning. Of course, don't forget pure noobishness. That can kill, too.

When they die, Crafters have a 10% chance of respawning. That again, is completely random. You can die a heroic death and not respawn or commit suicide and fail miserably.

When a Crafter dies, they leave behind a body and all the possessions in their Inventory whether they respawn or not. Notch's Rangers do not leave bodies when they die and respawn.