CHRONICLE
BOOK TWO: CORREN
PART FOUR: REBIRTH
Chapter Twenty-Seven:
Echoes
The long silence gave both gods and mortals alike a deep-seated unease that no one could shake.
Notch, unchallenged lord of all gods, knew that the enemy had thrown all it had into the attack on the Aether. While they had left deep scars, their defeat had cost them. Now they were regrouping. They would have a spell of rest- but no one could say how long. They were not safe.
Then there was the problem of the traitor.
Once his own personal counsel, now the catalyst that began the war. He was still at large, and a rogue influence on events. For now he suspected that Laskig was no longer working for anyone's interests but his own. If he stayed with a side, fine. But if he became a third party, he could spell ruination for all.
Including himself, thought Notch.
With a sigh, he returned his attention to the mortals below. A Villager mystic was deep in prayers, ones that demanded answers he could not yet give.
The healer sat before his brazier, gazing deep into the flames. Incense rose with the smoke, filling the room with the heady scent of spices and herbs.
He had given his usual prayers already today, on the holy day, at the temple. He led the procession to make the offerings and ask for another year of bounty from the fields and forests. Another year of few attacks of monsters. Another year of security. Peace.
Peace, he mumbled to himself. It was so simple a goal, so simple a need. Why was it so difficult to achieve? Why did he sense the peace they knew now was so fragile?
These things he asked Notch, meditating over his questions. The candles in the room flickered out and the stars rotated in the sky when he felt a flicker of movement in his mind. A connection.
First he felt the usual greeting, a sense of calm, and this time, encouragement. He was on the right path, of that he was certain. Teaching Corren the ways of war and honor was the creator's will.
But then he felt something else. A warning.
Dark days shall return, the unspoken voice said. Great destruction shall come. I am sorry.
He took a deep breath. I am not afraid, he said.
A wave of pity answered him.
Oh, my servant. A pause. Even we above make grave mistakes. Mine have cost me. What I ask of you will cost you more.
The healer closed his eyes, barely registering the dim flickering of the embers that pierced his eyelids. What would you have me do? he asked.
No more than you are doing now, came the reply. But you must know- that path you walk is the path that shall spell your doom.
An image flashed through his mind. Smoke, against starry skies. Flames reaching up, dust clogging the air. Screams of people and animals, and the sharp ringing of iron on iron. He felt the ghost of a blow that made him jerk in his seat, nearly breaking him out of his trance. He knew then that his death was coming. But he was already advanced in years. What did it matter how he died, violently or at peace? He would face it, and his calm would not be shaken. However...
What of the boy? he asked, a bolt of fear striking him to the heart. I do not fear death! But what of the boy- Corren?
He will live. You are certain?
I am.
A burst of brilliance filled his mind, and in that light was warmth, life-giving and beautiful. It lifted the healer out of his fear. He will live, and he shall turn the tide of this world. Somewhere in that brilliance, he could see something, white-on-white. Clouds- a city. My hand is on your fate and that of the prince. Live with purpose. Nothing you do shall be in vain.
With that, the presence faded. The healer sat back, stretching his stiff shoulders and legs. As he put out the brazier and went to his cot, he ruminated on the revelations of the night.
So, he thought to himself, doom is coming. He looked once again to the diamond sword set in the wall. He thought of it in his hand, then of it in Corren's.
Well, if doom is to come, it shall not find us unprepared.
"Where are we going?"
The healer paused to look back at Corren, chuckling. "Somewhere far enough that I'd advise you to save your breath."
"Okay," he said. Then he completely ignored his mentor's advice. "But really, where are we going?"
The healer leaped up the rock face with a grace that utterly belied his age. "You'll see," he called down.
That morning, Corren had been told to pack up enough for several days, clothes and provisions. Now they were miles along on a journey to an unknown place, and the healer was tight-lipped as ever. He carried the heavier burden in order to strengthen him as is master said, and so that his master could clear a trail for them. They followed what used to be a footpath, but now it was overgrown with vines and ferns.
Sometime in the afternoon, Corren lifted his head when he heard the sound of water. The healer broke down a tangle of dead vines, and sighed contentedly.
"We have arrived. Come look."
Corren hurried up the trail to his master's side. For a moment, the sunlight reflecting off the water dazzled him. Then his eyes adjusted, and he could see the scene before him.
A river ran through the little hollow scooped out of the forest, ending in a waterfall roaring over a precipice. Broken quartz pillars rose into the sky, surrounded by brick and stone ruins. Vines and shrubs had begun to reclaim what remained of the demolished buildings here and there.
"Welcome to my sanctuary," said the healer. Corren looked up. They had walked for most of a day to get here, across the desert and then grassland, into forests. They were very far from home, indeed.
"What is this place?" Corren asked.
"I believe it was a part of the kingdom of Arrenvale," said the healer. "Though it was a ruin by the time I was born. It is a safe enough place. We will set up camp over there-" he pointed to a platform built across the water, with stepping stones leading to it. Shielded by the flowing water, it would be difficult for night monsters to reach.
"Why are we here?"
The healer chuckled. "We are here so I can teach you what I have been waiting for you to be ready for."
"Like what?"
"Like this-" the healer lashed out with his foot, catching Corren neatly in the ankle and dumping him onto his face. Corren yelled in surprise before his face hit the dirt and his heavy pack bore him into the ground.
He heard the healer's staff whistling through the air. Turning, he hauled himself forward so the blow landed on the pack instead of his head. Then he bent his knees and slid out of the pack's straps, grabbing his wooden practice sword out of its sheath across the back as he went. He barely caught the healer's next blow on the blade.
Still short of breath, Corren leaped to his feet and aimed a blow at the healer, lunging forward and thrusting with his sword. But what he didn't expect was the healer simply stepping out of the way. A swift blow to his backside sent him reeling right into the river.
The healer turned away and retrieved a cooking pot from the pack Corren left behind. Then he turned to watch his pupil struggling in the water.
"Go find some firewood once you dry off a little. We'll make dinner." he said, and then winked. "After, I think I might show you how to avoid another bath."
When the sun finally set, Corren and his teacher sat across from each other, gazing into the embers of their campfire. Distant growls rose from the forest around them, but the two spent the evening setting up a perimeter that the monsters could not pass.
"There is another reason I brought you here," the healer finally said. Corren looked up from poking the coals with a stick.
"What is it?" he asked, tilting his head.
"I wanted to tell you about your past."
Corren froze. He had asked all his life about what had happened to him when he was just four years old. He still vaguely remembered his former life- the palace, the fine tapestries, gazing up at people dressed in rich colors. And a woman- a woman in a purple gown whose sleeves he always held grasped in his fists. He was told he strongly resembled his father, but he couldn't remember the faces of either his parents anymore.
"Go on", Corren said, his voice suddenly gravelly.
"Corren van Arrenvale, son of Richard van Arrenvale, king of Arrenvale, and Hanna of Luminara, his queen. You were born a prince, and if the kingdom was not destroyed the night of your birthday, you would be preparing for rule."
Corren swallowed. "I remember." He would never forget that night, the screams and the blood and the explosions that took away his sense of hearing for a while. But clearly the healer meant to talk about more than just his heritage.
"You are the lone survivor of the entire human race, my son," he said. "The night Arrenvale fell, hundreds of other kingdoms went to ruin as well. Your parents, your aunt- they were victims of a god gone rogue. He destroyed his creation. We have prayed that his rampage is over, but Notch has revealed to me that it might not be."
"God?" Corren said. "Which one?"
The healer took a deep breath.
"Herobrine, the creator of life. We do not understand why. But my meditations have told me he will return soon to finish his work."
"You mean to kill me." Corren said flatly. The healer nodded.
"For that, we must prepare."
Huntress here.
This time, I must confess, I was delayed by outlining issues. Thanks to that ridiculously long hiatus that was taken due to college work, I lost track of some of my story notes.
Well, that called for some rewriting, and I can tell you the end result shall be even more epic than the original plan. Because that's how it goes.
See ya next chapter. Now time to go work on my other neglected Minecraft rewrite...
Huntress out.