Hero's Bane

Chapter 42: And Mercy

Edited 4/24/2022

…

It was bad. Steve had tore the red stained gauzes right down the center over the wound and the injury looked horrible. The gash still lacked the healing light and it wasn't all that clean, he thought he even saw a few blades of grass in there. He looked away from the lesion and took a deep breath, hoping he wasn't about to do more harm or make matters worse. Blood was one of the things that he hated to see and now he was seeing a lot of it, mostly because it was his fault; dumb luck or not. He stepped away from the injured man and back over to the chest on the other side of the room, he dug through the chest to find a little sack that Nigel had left him along with his last potion of health. He pulled the vile out along with the sack and heard chinking sounds when he closed the box and laid the bag down gently on the square container.

He pulled the drawstrings apart and searched through the small bag to see a few concoctions that the old man must of left before leaving back for the village. Steve pulled out one vile labeled Potion of Regeneration, a potion of Heath, and one Potion of Swiftness. There was also a folded sheet of paper inside that he pulled out, he unfolded the sheet to find handwritten notes. The bottom half was faded out like a liquid had been spilled over it and erased some of the it's contents, but some of it was still distinguishable.

Notes to self: Potion Mixing

-Mixed potions are very helpful and can heal bad wounds or sometimes even worsen wounds. Can also create longer lasting effects or even shorten them, depending all on the ingredients and proportion amounts. (Obvious presumption.)

-A better potion can do much more, even save your life or take it. (Again, palpable)

-Mixing some potions can often produce a variety of powerful and beneficial effects… or become less potent if not completely useless or even harmful.

-Potions are to be swallowed not applied to the outer surface of the body.

-Splash Potions are more effective on direct injuries and therefore should not be ingested so that the potency doesn't decline, when mixed with regular potions it usually retains the potency on the external surfaces of the body.

-Base Potions have no effect. (Why did I write this?)

Created Concoction list: tested and untested:

-Potion of Slowness mixed with Potion of Resistance makes a better and longer lasting effect of resistance to poison and fire for some odd reason. However, the slow effect lasts twice as long and is quite debilitating. (Tested)

-Potion of Swiftness mixed with Potion of Slowness has absolutely no effect. (Tested)

-Potion of Heath and Potion of Resistance actually reduces healing effect. (Tested)

-Potion of Regeneration with Potion of Healing causing both healing effects with a slight increase of the healing rate. (Tested, excellent results)

-Potion of Slowness with Potion of Harming? (Not tested)

-Potion of Harming and Potion of Weakness makes a deadly concoction. (Not yet tested but theorized)

-Splash Potion of Fire Resistance and Potion of Strength with Potion of Harming creates a whole new effect; but I will just call it Splash Potion of Fire. (Tested. Instant fire in a bottle. Worked well, too well.)

-...

-...

-Important note to self: Don't mix Invisibility Potion with a Potion of Harming, very, very bad results. (Tested, dreadfully awful- most unexpected of results)

-...

The rest of the notes were all washed out and illegible.

"Hmmm?" Steve looked over it once more with furrowed brows but he couldn't find anything on a very potent healing potion, he didn't have many potions to mix either. All he had was two Potions of Health, one of Regeneration, and one Swiftness. He considered the idea of mixing all three of them but he didn't know what the outcome would create. He speculated that the Healing and Regenerating one would be more beneficial as Nigel had noted with the slight increase of the healing rate, the Swiftness could retain the potency from being a splash potion and it could help the wound heal quicker but he also had that doubt. Some potions when mixed had reverse effects or weakened effects, some with possibly being unexpectedly hazardous. He didn't have much to work with, but he decided he'll at least try this combination that wasn't listed from what he could read.

He walked over to fireplace and pulled up the empty glass bottle of Stamina from the floor, it could hold the new mix. He walked back over to the other side of the room and pulled and end table over to the side of the bed and Herobrine. He yanked all of the cork caps off of the bottles and poured a small amount of each potion into the empty glass vile, watching as a mauve liquid mixed in with the red healing solution combining to make a deep ruby color. He then took the bluish looking concoction labeled Potion of Swiftness; and poured some of it in carefully. The miner lightly jumped in surprise as the new deep purplish mixed potion fizzed as the aqua liquid was added. "I sure hope this does something good." He held up the new potion and sloshed around the contents a little to mix it better, the fizzling settled down and the concoction looked normal; yet he wasn't all that excited about using it. He had to test it out for himself first to see if it was safe, he just couldn't pour it all over Herobrine without knowing what it could do.

He gulped in nervousness while lifting his injured arm, he still had the stab wound and a fresh cut from Herobrine. So what better way to test it then on himself? For his own wellbeing regarding to pain; he decided to only pour it onto the new cut. Steve carefully tipped the bottle over his wound and a little of the solution splashed onto his skin and seeped into the gash.

Steve immediately placed the potion down onto the table and squeezed his now stinging cut, it was ten times worse than the average bee sting. He hissed and scrunched his facial features from the pain, he stepped away from the table and paced back and forth in front of the door; trying to think up anything or do anything to keep his mind off of the burning spot.

…

For minutes he was trudging about in ache, the stinging sensation was eventually overtaken with a gnawing feeling that felt like a wolf chewing on his arm and he was finally able to handle the pain better. He moved back over to Herobrine and he removed his hand to find that the wound was unchanged in appearance, but that was expected. There wasn't no miracle potion that would immediately heal wounds like Herobrine's own blood in his own body, so only time would tell. Steve took a deep breath and picked up the purple concoction, now it was the hero's turn. Steve still didn't know if this new potion would help but the ancient being's wound wasn't fairing so well and he was still bleeding, he was going to use it on him and hoped to Notch that it would do something helpful. Hopefully heal, even if it is less effective.

He tipped the potion over and the purple substance landed on the man's wound. Herobrine remained motionless as the potion and blood mix bubbled with a low sound. The miner knew that as long as Herobrine was out of it then he wouldn't feel a thing. Actually, that would make Herobrine lucky so far. Steve just had to hope the potion would do it's job.

Some of the potion fizzled out and ran down the being's side and onto the bed sheet.

"Of course." He sighed and pulled the vile away. Now his only bed was covered in blood and a dark violet fluid, that wasn't going to come out easily. The miner then exhaled and curled his lips, something like that wasn't something to worry about; especially not right now. Helping Herobrine though, was however.

Steve walked back over to the trunk and took out his last roll of gauzes, he then moved back over to Herobrine and tore the last lengthy bandage in half. Being his last gauze he knew that the wound wouldn't be nicely secure and tight, but he needed something to at least keep it covered and keep it from getting infected. The last of it would be used later after he cleans the wound, right now the injury was too fresh to mess with so the unbearable task of cleaning up dried blood would come later.

The miner finished wrapping up the immortal carefully and took a seat with a heavy sigh. There wasn't much he could do now, nothing but wait. He unsheathed the diamond blade and looked down at his reflection in the cyan surface. "Why? How?" His mind trailed off on the idea of the sword having some kind of unique enchantment on it, that was the only explanation of why the hero couldn't heal; or so that he could think of. The surface was shimmering like an enchanted item and it gave him strength, endurance, and speed in battle. But why did it cause this horrible injury that Herobrine couldn't heal?

…

It hadn't been longer than an hour and Steve was starting to sink in his seat, his eyelids were nearly closed and hid most of the blue of his eyes. He had placed the blade onto his lap and stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours; lost in thought. Now he was becoming drowsy and he was fighting to stay awake, it was still very early into the morning; the sky was still pretty dark. His tired gaze finally moved to the incapacitated hero and he blinked. He reopened his eyes to see the hero still there, he blinked again and again with his eyes half open and trying close again. He yawned a few times and allowed his eyelids to rest for just a minute.

A loud shifty sound had him peeling his lids to see the immortal abruptly sit up and tilt his head in the miner's direction with a blazing glare.

Steve gasped and blinked again and again but the hero was now lying still and unconscious on the bed. Steve forced himself to sit up and he rubbed his tired orbs, he glanced back at Herobrine and grinned. He was getting so tired that he was now seeing things, scary things. That smile faded as he thought about Herobrine waking up.

It had just occurred to him that he didn't have a full plan to handle the hero once he wakes up, that was not a good thought to dwell on. It was actually quite unnerving, the more he thought about it the worse it seemed. Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat still wondering what to do or say should he find Herobrine actually waking up, the being was at 'his' mercy after all but that would flip in a moment's notice. He had a sword that he could use to coercer Herobrine to stay put and listen to the miner's demands for concord, but that would probably make the being mad and only cause discord and a possible fight. He could tie the man down but that guy had power that exceeds anything in the house to hold him down with, so that idea wasn't going to work either.

The only thing he could think of that would be even remotely close to a compliance would be what he would say, should he know what to say and when to say it. The hero wasn't much for talk but he did listen, though the being almost always seemed disinterested but that was better than nothing. So now all Steve had to do was wait for that not so anticipated talk, and the probable scuffle that would likely initiate as the old hero realizes that his enemy is in the same place as he. Steve also had to be up before Herobrine if he was going to defend himself should the ancient man want revenge.

Steve shifted in the chair again, his neck was growing stiff from sitting still with his eyes fixated on the immortal. His back ached and his eyes continued to grow heavy, the seat was so uncomfortable but he was still finding it hard to stay awake. It was if his whole body was screaming for rest but he couldn't, at least not yet. He couldn't risk falling asleep and not ever waking back up again. 'I can't chance everything I've worked so hard for to just end dying, I've come to far for that.' Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. He was soon starting to doze off so he placed a hand upon the side of his cheek and rested his stiff neck, he blinked as his eyes started to lose focus. He yawned again and partially closed his eyes unwillingly, he was getting very bored and very sleepy. He then drew his sword and traced his finger's along the blade in an attempt to keep himself preoccupied, but his arm soon grew weak.

His eyelids dropped and he couldn't fight the exhaustion no more.

...

The sound of the diamond sword clinging against the wooden floor snapped the miner awake, he shot up in the wooden chair and glanced around with a thudding heart; only when his frightened gaze find the sword at his feet did he finally calm down. He sighed in relief to find that everything was as he left it before drifting off to sleep, Steve moved his head towards the window to see that it was dark out still; he hadn't nodded off for too long it seems.

The miner decided to stay in the chair and actually sleep now, he was tired of wrestling with exhaustion and just ready to get some rest himself; too drowsy to be rational. Everything was fine, Herobrine was fine. Everything would be okay so long as he kept his sword ready should Herobrine awaken soon. He lazily assured himself as he picked up the blade once more and leaned back into the chair before closing his eyes and falling asleep very quickly.

…

Steve couldn't see anything and he couldn't feel anything either, it was like he was floating in mid air in that same blackness that always seemed to greet him in this land. He blinked a few times to find absolutely nothing, he was in a pitch black area that was devoid of any light and warmth and the place stunk with a revolting odor. It smelled of death.

Steve continued to blink over and over to get this blackness to clear but it wouldn't. He moved his hands about to try and grab something, anything, but they were numb and heavy. His legs also held this strange feeling. "Hello?" He called out to the dark with nervousness. "Why is it so cold here?" He asked but it went without a response. He moved his numb arms up and attempted to wrap them around his freezing chest but all he could feel was a tingling sensation now radiating from his bones.

He floated around in the abyss and keep his eyes wide open in case he could see anything, it wasn't long before he saw a darkened figure right below him lying in empty space, floating lifelessly. Steve moved down towards the body and froze after his eyes adjusted enough to see a dark colored cyan shirt on the corpse with a big black blotch on the lower end of the shirt. The miner automatically recognized this form and he moved closer with apprehension and dread, the decaying odor grew much stronger as he closed in on the corpse and he stopped once the stench became too much to bare.

Was this who he really thought it was? Did this mean that Herobrine was dead?

It felt like an eternity as he remained there staring at the corpse's shadowed face. He couldn't see the man's features or his condition. The miner was grateful for that, but two slivers of light shined dimly; leaking weak light into the darkness from the man's silhouetted head, it had to of been those immortal's eyes.

The glow faded as he stared, he was then surrounded in the pitch black alone.

…

"Mmmmhhhnnnn." Steve's head moved from side to side as he grumbled and his eyes were tightly sealed, his finger's lightly twitched which caused an object to fall out of his hand and clang against the floor. Steve's eyes instantly snapped open and he shot forward out of the chair and panicked as he searched the room a second time. His heart pounded loudly in his chest and he deeply exhaled after finding the hero lying motionless on the bed. He fully leaned up and groaned from his stiffened joints, his neck ached painfully and his back made a popping noise as he straightened himself up.

He shook his head back and forth to loosen his tense muscles. "It was just a dream." He told himself, rebuilding his assurance with more positive thoughts forming in his head. Herobrine was still lying there a few feet away, sleeping soundly and looking not so dead. The miner stretched his legs and stood up out of the chair before walking back over to the unmoving form. Herobrine laid there quietly, only breathing softly with his chest ever lightly rising and falling, signifying that he was indeed still alive.

"I can't believe I let myself fall asleep so easily." He said to himself quietly. He was surprised that he was even able to fall asleep with the dangerous man being so close, for all he knew the hero could have woken up and killed him. That wasn't a pleasant thought. It was unlikely but the possibility was definitely there. He must have been completely exhausted to sleep in the same room with the legendary Herobrine.

The dream or nightmare was something he knew Herobrine didn't create, the immortal was completely out of it. Steve created that dream himself and he feared that it could have been a premonition of some sort, he wasn't sure, he only hoped it was a grim thought that transformed into a nightmare as he drifted off.

Steve immediately realized how weak he felt. His legs and arms ached and he was still tired, his wounded shoulder also stung as he moved his arm around. His eyes quickly dart back to the chair to find his source of protection and strength. It wasn't there. He fully turned around and felt his foot hit against an object as he made a step towards the wooden seat. The enchanted blade was lying on the floor at his feet, he quickly scooped it up and held it long enough to get the pain reprieve before he sheathed the weapon at his side. He looked out the window closest to the door to notice that it the sun was… going down?

"What?"

Steve moved over to the windowpane and rubbed his eyes, not quite believing that the sun wasn't rising. He stepped over to the door and opened it, feeling a freezing cold draft flow across his features. He cautiously stepped out into the snowy landscape and watched for a minute as the glowing orb descended down into the trees, weak rays of light lightly painted his body and clothes a soft shade of orange along with the shack and the snow. The sun was definitely setting.

"I've been out for that long?" He quietly asked himself in disbelief. "That's almost a full day… or longer?" He wrapped his arms around his chest and stepped back into the warm structure with a big frown. It was startling to know that he slept that long and didn't have Herobrine wake up and kill him, that would only make him lucky once again.

He walked back through the door and closed it before walking over to the fireplace to warm up, he tilted his head back to see the ancient man still lying there. Steve wondered if just leaving the hero there on the bed with the bandages would help the ancient being heal, but knowing the wounds from his own past; they needed to be cleaned often and medicine applied whenever possible. Especially for fatal-looking injuries. Besides, now was the time to see if his mixed potion helped in any way, the cut on his shoulder didn't look any better but it wasn't bleeding at least. Steve cautiously grabbed the bottom of the hero's shirt and lightly peeled it back, his face contorted after seeing what had become of most recent his gauze. The long cloth bandage was completely soaked in red and purple and the color was darker around the edges, dried crimson clung to his skin surrounding the wound and gauzes. Herobrine needed clean gauzes. But so far the hero's drying blood was a good sign, maybe it was healing?

The miner had pulled the hero's shirt back a little more and peeled the gauzes to see the mess, some of the blood had dried to the being's skin with a few blades of grass and some dirt. The wound still looked awful but the blood was no longer pooling which was great. As he removed more of the gauze on the outer end of the lesion he thought he saw something glow. "Is that what I think that is?" He carefully moved closer to the wound to see a little white glow and he felt himself breathing much easier. He sighed in relief and faintly smiled as he leaned back.

Now was the time to clean and reapply more of the concoction, it wasn't going to be fun that was for sure but Herobrine was healing and that was all that mattered for now. Steve searched the small shack for anything to aid him and found a small wooden bowl along with a white dusty handkerchief in a small cupboard next to the crafting table. He placed the bowl on the table beside the bed and filled it up with the remaining water he had in his bucket and soaked the cloth before wringing the excess water out. It wasn't much for cleaning wounds but it would just have to do.

He gently scraped at the dried clusters around the wound; being very careful not to inflict more damage or hinder the healing process. He also wiped away a few grass blades and pieces of dirt that managed to get inside the cut. After he cleaned out the gash as best as he could, he grabbed the new potion and slowly poured the remaining violet liquid into the wound; causing a small fizzle as it hit the being's life fluid.

Steve kept his undivided attention on the injury, being extremely cautious as he attempted to remove the last blade of grass that he could see. The fizzing potion was bubbling enough for the grass strand to rise and he awaited for the right moment to get it.

… … …

Then before he could pluck out the last plant fiber; it happened. He flew into the wall from a strong punch that surprisingly landed on the side of his cheek, he felt something sharp slip through his upper torso as he collided with the wood and it kept him pinned and suspended above the floor.

… … …

Steve's lungs ignited as he felt something inside of him begin to rip and he finally broke the silence with a loud wail of agony, this new pain wasn't something he couldn't even begin to explain. It was a deep seeded feeling that wasn't in physical form, but whatever it was it burned as the sword tugged more and more. His limbs were beginning to freeze now as more of him was being absorbed into the blade, he fought the pull but it was too strong and the pain intensified as the connection with this thing inside tore more from him.

He suddenly heard low voices of all sorts crying out in pain and misery, so many of those voices wept and many others begged to be free, some demanded for the torture to end. Then those voices soon started to get louder and louder, they sounded like people. Steve's eyes went wide and he gasped. Souls? It was the thought that came into his mind. 'Then mine is being- being ripped from me?' That was when he suddenly remembered Nigel's little inquiry on the existence of Soulsand. 'No!' Steve fought harder against this wrenching feeling that was slowly claiming it's prize, bit by bit. He couldn't stop it and more surges of pain danced in his chest as he fought.

He pried his eyes to see Herobrine standing there, his bright eyes shined like he was out of control once more. Steve gulped as he stared into the vivid white. He only hoped that the being could hear him. "He-" The miner wheezed and gasped for more breath. "Herobrine!" Steve shouted at the top of his deflating lungs. "Herobrine, please stop!" He begged, stray tears moved down the sides of his face when the pain sharpened; as if a clawed hand wrapped around his heart and constricted it.

He found his arm moving up and his hand grasping onto the blade. He tried to pull it out, but he failed. All he received from his efforts was a slashed palm that stung, but that pain didn't compare to one he tried to get out of him. "Please?!" He yelled, he was losing at the tug of war fight with the sword.

…

That voice? Herobrine thought he heard Lionel. He blinked and the brightness in his eyes slowly dulled down, he could see again. All of the torches in the room suddenly lighted back up and the Netherrack's fire blazed brightly again, filling the small house with warm light. The white haze still hung heavily in the air.

There was the miner named Steve, pinned to the wall with the glowing diamond sword that the hero held onto. Blood ran down the new wound and dripped to the floor, forming a small puddle. Herobrine didn't remember making such a move on the human, he did however; remembered being tortured. The strong tenderness was still present in his abdomen. That was a dream wasn't it? It couldn't be. This pain was real and he was being tortured with a blade! The old hero glared coldly at Steve, staring at the miner's watering blue eyes that were filled with so much dread.

"Herobrine?" Steve asked so softly with a pained whisper as his eyes closed.

The human suddenly dropped something to the floor and Herobrine's eyes instantly glanced down at the torture instrument, only to notice that it wasn't a weapon but a wash cloth? A rag? Herobrine studied the fabric now lying on the floor, it was soak and wet and covered in dark red splotches of blood with spots of purple. The hero's eyes then trailed back behind him where they landed on a bed and an end table side by side. The table had a few empty glass bottles on it and there was a wooden bowl filled with red water. A bundle of blood soaked gauzes also laid over the edge with a small clean bundle on the opposite end. The bed was also covered with the red life fluid, it stained the blanket and mattress along with a purple substance. Herobrine then looked down at his stomach to find his wound was perfectly clean through the gaping hole in his shirt. His eyes widened as he noticed a glow of white at the seams of the lesion. It was no wonder he was hurting so bad, he was healing. Finally healing.

The human was helping him then? But… why?

Herobrine snapped his head back in the direction of the miner as soon as the mortal wailed.

Steve's head hung low and he sniveled, he squirmed around even more with the passing second; groaning due to the pain from waging war inside.

Herobrine glanced at his blade and lightened his grip, this made the bright glowing white blade fade back into the darker cyan diamond color. The hazy white aura dimmed to a deep blue before completely fading out in the air.

…

The wrenching ache lessened and he felt the warmth slowly return to his limbs. The sword's strong pull released him and Steve felt a little at ease with the strain coming off of his soul, but as the force receded a terrible pain took it's place and the center of his chest stung immensely as he drew breath. He could feel the sharp ends of the sword with every inhale and he choked out from the sharpness that had him held up a few inches from the floor. He coughed violently and felt something warm slip down the corner of his mouth, he was going to really die this time and he felt it as his body grew weaker.

He daringly moved his gaze up to Herobrine to see the being's furious white eyes now back to a low glow and his expression was now that of confusion. Steve was confused himself for having his soul spared from the depths of the hero's blade and as to why Herobrine looked so perplexed.

…

Herobrine could feel the miner's pulse through the blade getting slower, Steve was dying and the hero had so many questions unanswered. Now he had even more questions and little time to have them answered. Herobrine closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he reopened his eyes and stared directly with bright orbs into the miner's and the human turned his head away from the brightness. The hero let one hand go from the blade and grabbed the top of Steve's head and forced the miner to look into his eyes. The miner thrashed his free arm about and clasped onto Herobrine's forearm, he frantically pulled as the white light consumed his vision.

… ….

Steve's head rolled to the side as he panted for air, he was tired and growing so weak. He actually wondered when he would die and he sort of wanted to at this point, he wanted the pain to end but it seemed as though his body held on to life so dearly. He really didn't want to face death but now his hopes of ever seeing his friends and family were gone, his injury was far too severe now and Herobrine was going to let him die. Every joint in his body was sore and his legs were becoming numb. His chest still ached with tenderness and it grew with every breath.

He reopened his eyes after the glaring light softened. He raised his head in a bit of surprise, he wasn't in the shack anymore. The place he was at was very familiar and it was no longer clouded by fog that it once was. Steve could see for miles across the distant plains and even see some of the trees in places scattered amongst the grasslands, he could even see a small lake towards a forest a few miles out. He tilted his head in the other direction and then down to his feet. He noticed that the enchanted sword was still sticking out of him and that he himself was hovering a few feet off of the ground in mid air, like he was pinned to an invisible wall. Blood still dripped onto the grass below and the sight only made him feel sick.

Steve pulled at the blade again but it wouldn't budge in even the slightest, he wrapped his other hand tighter around the weapon and pulled again but with both hands this time. It still wasn't enough strength to remove the weapon. He immediately stopped as the sounds of heavy footsteps threading through grass caught his attention, he looked before him to now see Lionel standing only a few yards away with a deep frown on his face and confusion on his features. The sentinel then took a few steps forward and Steve could feel a pleasant warmth coming from the guard as he neared. It was like the man was something beyond human.

"Li-Lionel?" Steve began.