CHRONICLE

BOOK ONE: LYDIA

PART TWO: THE FALL

Chapter Fourteen: Deception Siege

Herobrine knew the eyes of all the world were on him this day. All the gods in the Aether knew today was the day he finally made his move that would determine the end game, and all of mankind was watching eagerly. He had sent out the summons through the city for everyone to gather in Court Square, the square between Kingshall and the shrines of the city, and he could already hear the crowd growing beyond the limits of the city square, into the adjoining streets and nearby park. Many people were already getting restless.

Herobrine checked the skies through the windows behind his throne- nearly noon. It was almost time.

In wars between gods, open violence only broke out when one side gave in. The majority of the fighting was in feints and mind-battles, small tricks and deceptions that piled up and up until it all at last broke out into the open, and by then, the field was usually already set for one side to be guaranteed victory. Herobrine could not be more familiar with the procedure. He knew the many ways of entrapping another god in their own wiles, and he cursed his own blindness that had held him back now.

The creator god already knew, between his visions and his deductions, that he was in a deadly trap. But he wasn't cornered yet, or so he hoped. The traitor had been so dastardly clever, orchestrating the corruption of mankind and a deep rift between Herobrine and Notch. The traitor knew the two gods would remain separate in the case of a Void resurgence, and he had acted upon that. Someone had whispered things into Notch's ear, and done what no Void power had ever done before- he made him distrust his own brother.

Herobrine closed his eyes and furrowed his brow, deeply pondering the events of the day just before. At first, he believed that humans had been the main weapon against him, used to unhinge him and distract him. That had worked, but while Herobrine searched fruitlessly, the enemy had moved on. Now, as Herobrine realized with a start, he was pitting the Creator brothers- none other than himself and Notch!- against one another.

As a tactic, if it could be made to work, nothing could be more effective.

Herobrine knew now how the enemy intended to bring him down- it would fool Notch into stripping him of his powers-, but what would it do against Notch after? He could not tell. Shaking his head, Herobrine stood up from his throne and went to the window, gazing off into the forested distance over the walls of the city. He had just one plan of action left now, and it was shaky.

He had to find the identity of the traitor. It was now or never.

When he left the city today, there was no doubt that an agent of the Void would make the first full-scale strike against him as soon as he was isolated. If he could be quick enough, Herobrine would latch on to the thread of black magic and trace it, following it to its source where he hoped he would find the traitor or at least some clue to the traitor's whereabouts. It was extremely likely that the traitor would personally appear once he was alone. Under normal circumstances, it would be an easy plan, almost too easy.

But this time, his brother was threatening to leave him helpless in the most critical moment.

Herobrine clenched his fists and took a deep breath. He had another plan ready, a contingency plan, but it was even shakier. If anything, it would be a last-ditch effort to save himself. If Notch did indeed take away his power, then he had sources of power stored away in crystals and amulets, ready for use in just such an emergency. He would use that power to teleport back to Kingshall, and quickly make a means to escape to the Aether. Ward upon ward, layers of magical barriers, had been erected over the palace just for this occasion- powerful walls that would keep all but the most powerful beings out.

But they wouldn't hold forever. If Herobrine could not escape in time, then he would be in a desperate situation, indeed.

The light in the room shifted ever so slightly.

The sun had reached its zenith. It was time.

Every slow, deliberate step Herobrine took on the smooth-cut stone could be heard clearly through the recesses of the square. No one moved, no one spoke, and no one looked anywhere but at the balcony. A collective intake of breath was heard as Herobrine stepped into view, into the sunlight to be seen by all. There was no moved, and not one piece of clothing or armor rustled.

The silence was almost unnatural.

Herobrine looked up at the sun over his head, gazing briefly into its impossible bright. He was there when that sun was made. He was the one to give it color. Every tree, flower, and blade of grass it gave life to was his creation. And now before him stood rank upon rank of men and women and children- his creation, and his people. He was their god. Their creator.

So why did he feel so powerless?

Herobrine softly cleared his throat.

"Greetings, people of Luminara," he began. People here and there snapped to attention, and Herobrine felt all eyes turn upon him. "I have called you here for a single purpose.

"We all recall the violence of past years- the turmoil that filled the streets of this beautiful city. As I remember, few liked my reaction to this violence, and fewer still have approved of my actions more recently. I can understand why.

"Let me say this for all to hear, and to confess once and for all: I have wronged you." A few gasped, here and there, and there were small sweeps of murmuring across the massive crowd, but the rest remained in deadpan silence. No one felt the need to protest. Everyone agreed.

"Though I am a god," Herobrine continued, "I am not the highest of all, and I do not carry the authority of such. In the past years, I became your tyrant rather than your protector, and kept you from doing the very thing I accuse you of never knowing how to do: to rule yourselves. I was blind and hasty in my actions, and I have never allowed you to break free from me and grow on your own.

"But believe me when I say this- I meant the best for you in all I did. The best for all of you." Herobrine sighed heavily, swallowing. "But good intentions do not make right what I have done to you. I cannot hide behind a coward's mask of denial.

"The charges stand against me, and you know them as well as I. I have overstepped my authority, and upon this day, I return that authority back to you, for it was never mine to take over you. I feared that you would destroy yourselves before, but now I must let you govern your own by your own laws. Remember the lessons I have taught, indeed, but I cannot keep you now out of fear alone. To hold you back now, my people, would require cruelty.

"I will not prolong my crime. Today, I will leave you to ensure your safety from otherworldly forces as I should have been doing, and I will leave you to yourselves. If all goes well, you shall not see me again for a very long time. I withdraw all of my authority from this city, and I call forth the former Council you chose for yourselves to step up and lead in my place. I ask you to do justly and lead with a gentle hand, to remember the virtues I have taught you." Herobrine paused, as if finished with his speech. A few people shifted, a few more began to murmur. Herobrine gripped the railing of the balcony and looked up at the sky once more.

He glanced back down at the crowd, and silence fell again. "Do not forget," Herobrine said, his voice magically amplified over the crowd, "I still love you. One and all. Farewell."

He did not give anyone in the crowd time to return the gesture. There just wasn't enough time for false pleasantries.

Releasing the railing, Herobrine spread his arms and flew up into the sky, hurtling past the clouds and into the layer of the sky where the ground faded away into misty blue and the stars faded into view. The sun grew blindingly bright as Herobrine rose further still, and then changed direction, arcing down to the earth far to the North.

Air whistled past him as he flew, stinging his eyes and building heat behind him. Tucking in his limbs, Herobrine slowed and dropped straight down like a stone, landing on the ground in a crouch with a solid boom. The stone shook beneath him, and buckled in places.

He stood, looking around him. Tall, ancient oaks grew all around, fighting for the sparse patches of soil between the broad swathes of exposed rock. The mountains loomed oppressively close to the North, a cold wind blowing down from their snow-capped peaks. Taking a deep breath, Herobrine spread out his senses, picked a direction, and began his search.

Yes, watch me Notch. Herobrine thought. Watch all our predictions come true.

It would not be long before the first presence of the Void would appear.

"Thank you," the priest said, and the attendant bowed and left the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving the priest alone with a cup of hot chocolate cradled in his hands.

He sat in the upstairs room of a village on the edge of a heavily forested realm, the desk before him cluttered with his various papers and maps. The snow was piled high outside- too high for travel. He had stayed here for several weeks already, forced to winter here. It rankled him- he needed to speak with Corren as soon as he could. The priest took a deep sip from his hot chocolate as he ruminated bitterly, and managed to burn his tongue.

With a sigh, he put down the cup, careful not to spill it anywhere, and looked at the empty blank page of his codex. The story was beginning to come together, at least, with the few pieces of local history he had managed to collect. He had all sorts of reports of disasters and warfare- the fall of Arrenvale, the earthquake at the Great Temple- but what he really wanted was the reason behind all that violence.

A knock came to the door.

Before the priest could answer, a green-robed villager poked his head in.

"You wished to see me?" the newcomer asked, and the priest immediately struggled to his feet, inching around the desk to embrace him in the traditional greeting between clergy.

"Remund, I trust? The monk and healer?" the priest asked, and the green-robed villager nodded.

"I was told you sought the truth."

"Indeed, I do!" the priest replied enthusiastically, gesturing for Remund to find himself a seat. "Please, make yourself comfortable! I'm sorry I couldn't offer you a neater meeting place. These borrowed rooms are all I have."

"No matter," Remund said sagely, finding a stool under a stack of books and evicting the volumes to seat himself. The priest sat down in his chair again, folding his hands before him on the desk.

"You say you have had visions before?" the priest asked, and Remund nodded.

"I predicted the great earthquake," he answered. "It happened three days later, at the very time I knew it would."

"You refer to the one that buried the great library?"

"Yes."

"What a pity," the priest said. "It was said to be a masterwork. And the knowledge they had already stored within!"

"Perhaps," Remund pointed out, "That knowledge may be unearthed later. The wreckage will be cleared in time, I hope."

The priest nodded.

"Perhaps. Now- you said that through visions, you witnessed a great battle between gods?"

"Yes. If you wish, I have much of this written down. I was in meditation when they first came, and prepared for writing down such revelations."

"Oh, excellent! May I see these notes?"

Remund drew a scroll of papers from his belt, tied with a scrap of canvas. "Would you mind if I told you what I remembered as you read? It would save time."

The priest waved a dismissive hand as he took the scroll and began untying the dusty fabric binding. "Pish-posh. It's winter. We have nothing but time. Please, tell me your story."

Remund adjusted his seat, settling himself in more comfortably. "I received the first vision when I was in my morning meditation, three months ago. I saw two gods, Notch and Herobrine, just as the paintings in the Temple had them depicted, but for a few differences. Notch wore battle-armor of shining diamond and gold, and he wielded a sword. So did Herobrine, and Herobrine bore a sword- a great black sword-, the weapon he swore never to carry. His eyes, as well, were wrong. They were white, just as the human survivors described them to be before they died. We had a great many wounded come to the Temple in past decades, when I was just a boy. No one ever survived- they would all fall ill.

Anyway, the two gods were not the ones battling. Herobrine seemed to fade away, pushed deeply into the earth and sealed there. Instantly I knew there was powerful magic involved, and that he had been banished away from the world. But then the real enemy appeared, a great black cloud that seemed to consume the light around it. Everything it touched shriveled and died."

The priest slowly looked up and sat a little straighter as Remund spoke. He had heard of Void gods, evil creatures of unmaking from the beginning of time. "Could it be..." he whispered, and Remund nodded.

"It was... I'm not sure what to call it. Notch spoke to it, cursed it as an 'evil thing', proclaiming that he would banish its darkness from his world once and for all. I refer to it as the Shadow in my notes. I wasn't sure what else to name it as. Now as I watched, the cloud became something else. It transformed.

"That was when my first vision ended. Nothing much was clear- I think it was something that happened years ago, rather than in the future."

The priest put down the papers in his hand.

"If what you're saying is true..." he said, trailing off as he went deeply into thought. "How miraculous."

"You believe me?" Remund seemed surprised. "Many have dismissed my visions as dreams or lies. Even among the Temple staff, despite my warnings." The priest shook his head.

"You are not the only one who can see through Time, my friend," the priest answered. "I've served Notch all my years, and I'm an old man. I know sincerity when I see it. I'll need to check other sources to see how much of what you saw was true- I'm also a scholar, after all,- but I believe you. Trust me, I believe you. You aren't the first seer I've met."

Remund relaxed visibly.

"Now," the priest continued with a less serious air, "What did your next vision show you?"

The two spoke for hours, until Remund grew hoarse and the Priest looked down at his empty cup of hot chocolate with longing as the twilight cold began to seep into the stones of the tower. At last, he held up his hand to stop.

"It's getting late. Thank you, Remund. Now I have something to do all winter, before going off to the road again." Remund smiled.

"I am glad to be of assistance, sir." At that, he bowed farewell and left the room, shutting the door softly behind him. The priest sat back in his chair at his desk, stroking his chin in thought.

So much had happened between the last time Lydia encountered Herobrine, as recorded in her diary, and the day Herobrine vanished completely from the world. Some said he had been slain, others that he merely left to allow a false sense of security to develop. Others still claimed that he was banished to another realm. Either way, he had caused vast amounts of destruction in the roughly five years before his disappearance, and he left an even vaster mystery in his wake.

It had been fifty-odd years since then, perhaps even sixty.

The priest propped his elbows on the desk and rested his chin on one hand, twirling a quill lazily in the other. What he really wanted to know was what happened to cause Herobrine's first disappearance, after which he showed up again and started his whole spree of atrocities. He gazed down at the largest vellum page on his desk, a large and detailed portrait of Herobrine that had been reworked to show white eyes. All the portraits had been reworked so.

The priest dropped the quill back into its inkwell and sat back in a huff, never taking his eyes off the portrait.

"What were you up to?" he mused.

A lone wolf howled outside, signaling the rising of the moon and the fall of night.