CHRONCLE

BOOK ONE: LYDIA

PART ONE: OUT OF THE GOLDEN CITY

Chapter Four: Sparks

Herobrine leaped up onto his black warhorse and closed his legs on the animal's sides. Immediately the great charger sprang forward, galloping down the street to meet the crowd head-on, sparks flying from the cobbles in his wake. The wind picked up, spurring the rider on and flattening the crowd back. He didn't risk a glance back to ensure the safety of Jonas and his family. They were on their own now- he had other matters to deal with.

The mob, for example.

As Herobrine pounded closer and closer, the crowd stopped moving forward, but they did not retreat. Herobrine narrowed his eyes and did not let his horse slow.

Just as he was about to barrel into the front ranks, he leaned back and pulled sharply on the reigns. The black horse stopped short and reared, warding off the nearest people with its raised hooves.

Thunder rolled in the skies and dark clouds began to roll in ominously on the high winds. For several heartbeats, no one moved.

"Is this not what you called for?" Herobrine shouted over the wind to the crowd. "Did you not call for me to come out?"

A wave of muttering swept over the crowd, some of it angry, some of it fearful. Herobrine analyzed the crowd as it shifted and murmured, his black irises flinty in the stormy light. Blinding light flashed overhead, and the smell of ozone filled the air as thunder rolled again.

"Here I am," Herobrine shouted, releasing the reigns and spreading his arms wide. The crowd fell deadly silent, replying with only steely glares. Herobrine dropped his arms and nudged the horse forward with his knees to walk a few steps closer. The front ranks drew back to let him by, but not out of fear of him. They were just keeping out of the way of his horse. Herobrine knew something was wrong as his horse waded into the crowd. These people had reacted too quickly, too violently, to too vast of an extreme. He wondered deeply who had riled up the populace like this. What had started this chain of events in the first place.

A hoarse voice shouted from the crowd and broke his concentration.

"What coward stays mounted so he can ride away to safety instead of facing us like a man?" Herobrine's head snapped around and immediately located the speaker- a stout, brown-haired man with watery brown eyes.

Ahh, he does have a point, Herobrine thought. Best not to make them any angrier. He knew just how delicate the situation was- not complying could enliven the mob again, and then where would he be? Best not to assert his power here- these were his people, not criminals.

"A coward would not have ridden out to meet you," Herobrine called to the speaker. Securing the reigns around the saddle horn, he swung one leg over the saddle and slid off, landing lightly on the ground with his hands half-raised in a gesture of peace. "I am not here to do harm."

Immediately, a stone struck him in the face.

Herobrine had sensed it coming, but he decided not to react. As he reached up to touch his now-bleeding cheekbone, he examined the thrower of the stone closely. It was a teenage girl, tall and wiry with dark hair. She had forced her way through the crowd to attack Herobrine face-to-face, and now stood before him with feet apart and fists clenched, glaring back at him with icy blue eyes. Herobrine knew who this was.

Ari, he thought. That was the name of her father- Ari, the rogue, the one responsible for the deaths of six people.

And now here was his daughter, standing here, pointing one trembling finger at him accusingly.

"You," she hissed, jaw clenched. "You killed my father." Another stone flew at Herobrine from another angle and another wave of muttering went through the crowd. Several angry exclamations were heard, but no one else attacked. Herobrine caught the stone right before it collided with his temple without looking up. Leveling his gaze at the girl, he dropped the stone and let it clatter to the ground.

"You know for what crimes your father died," Herobrine replied coldly. "He killed six others among this city, and was responsible for many others through accomplices. He paid the price. By taking others' lives, he made his own forfeit. Is that not fair?"

The crowd roiled with angry outcries.

"Who are you to decide justice for us like that?" someone shouted. Other voices took up the cry.

"Tyrant!"

"You have no right to judge us!"

"We can govern ourselves!"

Herobrine knew the situation was spiraling out of control then.

"You say such things, yet hundreds of your own kind are at war against you, killing and stealing!" Herobrine bellowed. "And yet, you do nothing! You will not empower yourselves against injustice! You are divided against one another. You are not ready to govern yourselves!"

The crowd fell silent all of a sudden, and Herobrine hoped that they had listened to him. But one man cried out and dashed that hope in an instant.

"Bastard!"

The entire crowd exploded into action, and, raising their torches and stones, surged forward as one.

Scrambling down the stairs, Lydia struggled with the straps of her pack one-handed with Hanna's hand firmly clasped in her other. Drayda was at the base of the stairs, helping Alayne pack up the bare essentials. Outside, the noise increased. There was a sound like tearing fabric and the ground shook with a deafening blast of thunder. As if cautiously testing them, a low tap-tap of rain began to come down on the roof.

Then a wave of rain blew into the house with a sound like a cascade of pebbles. The wind howled, and the rain fell harder and harder, coming down in sheets.

Jonas finished tying a kerchief around his head to staunch the bleeding on a fresh weal, and then crossed the living room and opened the back door of the house by the stairs. A wave of rain blew in, soaking the floorboards. He nodded to Alayne and Drayda and vanished into the storm, holding his cloak tightly around himself.

Alayne swept Hanna up into her arms and Drayda snatched Lydia's hand, adjusting the straps on her pack with a series of short, merciless jerks. Then Lydia was pulled out the door, a cloak thrown about her shoulders just before she was thrust out into the freezing rain. Struggling to see, Lydia splashed after the blurry outline of her mother as Drayda towed her along towards a few blotches of horse-shaped color.

Other rangers and forest-wanderers awaited them at the fence. Drayda was shouting something in Lydia's ear- she shook her head to show that she couldn't understand her over the storm. Drayda sighed and shoved Lydia into the arms of a black-cloaked ranger, who lifted her onto the saddle of his gray-mottled horse before leaping up behind her on the saddle.

The door slammed. Lydia could just make out Alayne as she locked the back door of the house and crossed the yard in a few running strides, mounting her white mare behind Hanna. The four-year-old sat stiffly on the saddle, not making a sound as the rain poured down and the saddle, much too big for her, strained her legs. She snuggled close to her mother, eyes wide. Alayne wrapped her daughter's cloak tighter around her tiny shuddering body and hugged her tightly. From where Hanna was sitting, she couldn't see the murderous look on Alayne's face at what was happening.

No child should have to go through this. Especially not any child of her's.

"Let's go!" Drayda commanded, wheeling her horse about. The other rangers followed quickly, digging their knees in and urging their horses into a gallop. Lydia wrapped her hands around the saddle horn and held on tight.

Rain whipping their faces, wind buffeting their cloaks, the party rode out down side-streets and down the paths that would take them out of the city. Lydia thought she heard other horses galloping after them, but it was hard to tell thunder from the sounds of pursuit. She tried to twist around to look, but the ranger she was riding with pushed her head forward again with one elbow, shouting for her to stay still. Swallowing, Lydia settled back down and hoped that they would make it out without trouble. She thought of the arrow that almost hit her father just hours before and shivered, only half from the cold.

Why were all those people so angry?

All of a sudden, the city wall loomed up dead ahead of them. The entire party turned to go parallel to the wall to reach the gates, and Lydia caught a glimpse of the crowd again from a distance down the street that ran straight through the entire city. There were bright flames visible despite the rain, and a rumble of voices that defied the storm. A cold feeling gathered in the pit of her stomach.

Something went wrong when the first two rangers rode out the gates.

"AMBUSH!" Drayda roared as thunder rolled, and Lydia heard metal ring as the seasoned forester drew her sword. Lydia couldn't see what exactly had happened, but both the rangers were visible through the rain just outside the gates, swinging their swords.

"Get them out!" Drayda ordered, and the horse under Lydia sprang forward, knocking her back into the ranger behind her. As they passed through the gates, she got one swift glance at what Drayda had seen- there were parties of armed fighters outside every gate down the walls. The two rangers were fighting hard to keep them at bay to let Lydia and her family ride safely out. Drayda shot out of the city, her sword swinging down at one of the mounted bandits.

Then Lydia was past the ambushers and could no longer see what transpired behind her.

She couldn't see any of the rest of her family around her, and the ranger wouldn't let her look back. Squeezing her eyes shut, she desperately prayed that they would all get out of this alive.

Herobrine struggled in a sea of fiery eyes and battering limbs. Someone hit him behind the knee, and he fell to the ground. Immediately the sea of people closed around him, stomping down and thrusting fiery torches at him. He batted them away, and splayed his limbs, unbalancing his nearest assailants. Leaping up, he flew up into the air, but someone grabbed his ankle. He could have flown away, but what would that have done except terrified this new attacker into losing his grasp and falling to his death? Herobrine floated back down, and the sea swallowed him once more.

From that short flight he could see what the riot was really doing. While there were some chanting his name in hatred, there were a vast many others around the streets using the riot as an excuse for violence. Some were throwing rocks without caring who they hit. Some were in groups shattering windows and breaking into shops, coming out with armloads of valuables.

Several windows were gleaming yellow with fire inside, but the rain kept any external fires extinguished. They were looting. Herobrine shook his head- this was simply to surreal. There was simply too much violence.

He needed to distract the mob.

Pushing backwards through the throngs, Herobrine came to a place where he could have a wall to his back. From there, he surveyed his options

There, on the street corner, was a tall ornamental tree. It was on the other side of the than he was trapped on, but it would do to let him out of the choking grasp of the enraged rioters.

Ducking underneath the swing of a heavy length of wood, Herobrine summoned a fireball into his palm. Reaching up, he grabbed his attacker's shoulder and used that to lift himself, slugging the fireball up and over the heads of the crowd. Then he ducked back down and fended off the countless battering fists and sticks as best as he could.

An explosion shook the street. For a moment, the angry cacophony of the crowd turned to surprised screams and everyone turned to view the pillar of fire that sprang up in the darkening night skies.

That was the chance he needed. Flying up into the air, he drew the wind towards himself and made a funnel of stormwinds spiral down at the nearest square in the thick of the crowd. The people there screamed and scattered, opening a space for him. He threw a fireball down to gain their attention, and it landed without exploding and blew flames across the cobbles in a wide circle.

Releasing his focus, Herobrine dropped to the ground and landed with a resounding boom.

The noise did not stop, but the nearest rioters halted to regard him coldly. Some of them ran forward to attack, but Herobrine was quite finished being beaten down for one night. He sent a blast of energy outwards that pushed the attackers back the way they came, back into the crowd.

Someone let out a hysterical cry.

"He's using his black magic! See?! SEE?! This is what he really is! Get the monster!"

The entire crowd surged towards Herobrine en mass, but all of a sudden, they slowed to a stop, mid-stride.

The raindrops hung frozen in the air, and a warm light filled the street, overpowering the gleam from the fires and the gloom of the storm. The smell of ozone and rain was replaced by a clear, crisp scent that Herobrine knew well. It was the smell of the clean Aether air, high above this world and beyond the mists of the Void. He knew what was happening. With a resigned sigh, he relaxed and closed his eyes.

"What happened here, Herobrine?"

He knew that voice better than any other.

Notch.

Herobrine opened his eyes and turned.

There Notch stood, haloed in his golden light. The rest of the world around them was frozen, suspended in time by Notch's power. Herobrine took a deep breath before answering, steadying himself. He felt the mental pressure of his brother's superior power, and he allowed the barriers of his own mind to fall and allow Notch to see everything. Likely, even with time frozen like this, he would not have time to explain in detail. This way was faster.

"Something I was hoping would not come to pass," Herobrine answered. "This," he said, gesturing to the frozen people around him, "is part of something that has been going on for many months now." He sighed. "I only wish whoever it is did not retaliate in such a way.

Notch came up on a blank place in Herobrine's mind. Herobrine sensed his brother's confusion and thought, I have yet to find out who. Notch did not respond, but the confusion faded.

He looked around, his dark eyes seeing every face twisted and frozen in rage. He looked back at his brother.

"What have you done to anger your people so?" he asked, brow furrowed. Herobrine looked away.

"It isn't what I have done," Herobrine replied. "It's how they've been told the tale. I'm sure you heard them coming here. They used to love me and they never feared my power. Now they call me a monster who wields black magic." He scoffed lightly, looking up to the sky.

Notch was worried. He had reason to be- he had heard worrying things about what his brother had done on this world, and now he had discovered all of them to be true when he came to investigate. The restrictions, the cat-and-mouse between Herobrine and the growing criminal underworld, the trials and executions, and worst of all, the monsters. Herobrine believed himself at least mostly innocent of guilt, but his mind was tangled with unseen motives and hidden plans. Whatever he had gotten into, he was in deep.

"You didn't need to go to such extremes," Notch said. "Why have you driven your people to this point?"

Herobrine looked at Notch sharply.

"This was not meant to drive them to anything!" he snapped. "Notch, there is something else out there. Something that is eluding my powers of perception, and it's corrupting my people. I have to do whatever I can to root out this evil, and quickly. Please, you must understand."

Notch sighed.

"I know what this looks like!" Herobrine exclaimed, suddenly fearful as his brother turned his back. "You must know it. You have seen the truth in the souls of these people. Something is wrong here. The monsters- you know what that meant. I had to act."

"I know," Notch breathed, barely loud enough for Herobrine to hear. Herobrine fell silent, grateful. Notch looked back over his shoulder to Herobrine. "I will do what I can for now. We will speak of this again later."

As Notch turned away and broke off the mental connection, a deep sense of dread pierced his heart.

Laskig warned me of this, he thought, opening the way to ascend to the Aether once more.

Herobrine watched as his brother faded from sight and the light of the Aether faded back into the dull glow of late dusk. Slowly, the raindrops regained momentum and the people began to move again.

He was left to face the crowd on his own.

At last, Drayda and her party of rangers broke free of the ambushers and rejoined Jonas and his family.

"Go!" she shouted over the wind. Jonas nodded and urged his horse faster, drawing alongside the ranger that carried Lydia. He gave her a reassuring smile, and she weakly smiled back.

"It's going to be okay," he said, but the storm tore his words away. He didn't know if any of his family heard him or not.

Drayda rode up behind Alayne to shield her and her child from any opportunist ambushers. Twisting on the saddle, she caught a glimpse of a few riders still whole enough to follow. Grimly, she decided that would have to changed.

Turning back forward, she nocked an arrow on her bow and twisted backwards again and fired. One of the riders went down. The other two behind the unfortunate pursuer were caught up in the fall, and all three disappeared from sight as the ranger party entered the forest.

The family rode on through the night, all sounds of pursuit lost to the forest.