Location: Testificate Village, somewhere north of Hyrule.
Year: 2236 AP (After Plauge), Evening, 3 days after Birthday of Princess Zelda
The tall trees of the northern forest were covered in snow, and a chill wind blew into the face of a young boy plowing through the snow. he young boy shivered, but continued onward, eyes squinted against the sting of the snow and head bowed in an attempt to keep himself warm. He could barely see in front of him, and it was starting to get dark out. The boy had been wandering for days, and it was by pure luck that he had made it this far. He wouldn't last much longer without shelter, already, the boy couldn't feel his fingers or toes. He needed to find a dry cave, or he would be either a frozen forest decoration or zombie chow by morning. Soon, the mobs would be out to hunt, despite the freezing temperature.
As he stumbled blindly through the forest, he thought he caught a glimpse of a few blurry shapes through the trees. Shaking his head, he looked again. Yes, he could make out a few grey shapes in the distance. A small hill with a cave in it, maybe?
Shelter, He thought, changing his direction slightly… just as the sky darkened even more.
The boy began to move faster, but the cold bit deep into him, and the snow slowed him down. It was only a matter time till a zombie picked up his scent on the wind.
"Gahhhhhehrrrrr!"
Oh… Notch, why now! The boy thought, as he heard the moan of something hideous… shuffling behind him.
He turned his head to see the thing that was now on his track. He wished he hadn't. The creature resembled a human dressed in filthy rags. Its body was thin, shriveled, and had a sickly green cast to it. Its mouth oozed slime, and the black caverns where its eyes should've been locked on him as if sizing him up. As hard as he tried, he couldn't break eye contact. He was paralyzed in fear. Vaguely, out of the corner of his eye he could see that the zombie's arms were held out in an imploring gesture as it stumbled forward to claim him. Knowing it would be the last thing he would ever see, he let loose a blood curtailing scream!
Then, something happened, so fast, he was sure it. He heard a metallic snarl and then the zombie gave a startle "Galomp!" as it was tackled to the ground by something huge. It moaned in agony f as whatever attacked it began punching it repeatedly before it fell silent.
By now, the cold had gotten deep into the boy's system, and the shock of the events sent his mind into overload. His eyes drooped, and he collapsed into the snow. The last thing the boy saw as he faded into unconsciousness was the grey shape turning towards him, its arms extended in a gesture that somehow seemed protective…
Hanson the librarian sat in his hut, quietly sipping some herbal tea, and reading from the Holy Book of Notch. A fire was crackling merrily in his fireplace, and the white robe that he usually wore over his tunic was hung on a coat peg near the door. It had been a long day in the village. Trading with the Humans was business as usual, and his sermons and denouncement of Emerald addiction went largely unnoticed as his fellow villagers constantly ripped off each other and any visitors that happened to need something.
Why is everyone so obsessed with those things? They are too rare and beautiful to be used as mere currency. Such gems should be part of art and jewelry, not being bartered like gold. But alas, tis not so.
There was a frantic banging at the back door.
Zombies! Here? He thought, jumping to his feet and dashing to his hidden bunker.
There was another bang on the door, this time accompanied by an urgent sounding metallic yelp.
A Golem? He thought, At this time? Shouldn't he be out patrolling?
The metallic grunts were getting louder and increasingly urgent.
"Gollu? Is that you?" He asked hesitantly.
A softer grunt of confirmation was all the reply he got back, followed by another urgent bark.
Instantly, the Villager was on his feet and running to the door. If Gollu was banging on his door, it must be urgent. He flung open the door. There stood the Golem,towering over the villager. Despite the fact that its face showed no emotions, The golem cradled something in its arms. Almost tenderly he held out the figure, letting the light from the door spill onto the person's face.
It was a human boy, surely no more than 8 years old. He had no winter clothes on, his eyes were closed, and his face slight bluish tinge. Flecks of ice were in his dark brown hair, and his nose and ears looked like they were frostbitten. It was clear that if he didn't get out of the cold soon, that he would die.
"Hurry, come on in!"
The Golem squeezed through the door and sat on the floor with a huge thump. Hanson made sure to getting the child wrapped up in a warm blanket by the fire, before turning around to confront the golem.
"Where did you find the boy?"
The golem pointed to the southeast.
"You brought him to me?"Hanson asked.
The Golem nodded.
"What do you want me to do?"
The Golem pointed a finger at the boy then directed the finger at Hanson.
"Oh no. I'll make sure that he is warm and comfortable for the night… but other than that…"
The Golem grunted insistently.
"You really want me to care for him?" The librarian asked exasperatingly, "A human?"
The Golem nodded firmly.
"But I know nothing concerning the raising of children." He protested.
The golem tilted its head and let out a mournful sound. Somehow, its lifeless eyes grew larger and more… deer like in appearance?
I gotta hand it to him, he's more intelligent than he is trying to tug at my heart strings. But by Notch's beard, it's not going to work…
But it was already too late. Before his mind could register the the thought, he was already responding.
"Oh, alright," he found himself sighing, "but its only temporary. I'll see to it that he that he gets a warm place to sleep, and that he is out of the cold. If someone else doesn't take him soon, he will be on his own again."
What are you doing, you idiot! He thought, You are a librarian, NOT a babysitter!
The Golem looked at him steadily for a moment, seeming to asses his inner turmoil. Then Gollu stood up, having to crouch under the low roof., and with a stunted motion he patted the librarian on the head and wormed his way back out the door, leaving a baffled librarian Hanson in his home.
Sheepishly, the librarian glanced at the boy who was still asleep in his armchair.
Maybe a healing potion will bring him up to snuff.
Hanson had studied many things in the years that he had lived in the village, one of which was the art of potions. After all, if you have books, you might as well read them. He walked into his small kitchen and opened up one of the cupboards, rummaging around through the various distilled essences that he kept for various occasions. He whipped out a small vial filled with reddish powder.
"Ah, the essence of healing," He muttered.
Now I just need to add it to some boiling water.
Dumping out the kettle he used to boil the tea, he filled it with snow from outside and placed it over the fireplace. He waited until it was boiling, then took the kettle off the flame and carefully mixed in a small pinch of the red powder. Essence of Healing took forever to make, and only a little bit was needed to make potions.
Suddenly, he heard a stifled yawn come from the chair.
Good, he's waking up.
Quickly he stirred the mixture, taking care not to spill the boiling potion on himself. He set the kettle down on a hot pad, and then put away the essence, before stirring some more snow into the pot to cool it down.
One dose should be enough for him, but no use in letting the rest of the potion go to waste. I could sell the excess for an emerald or two.
After a few more minutes, the potion was at a safe temperature to drink, and he pulled out four bottles from another cupboard. He dipped each of them into the pot, taking care to not overfill each of them, and stuck a stopper in all of them. He set the other three to the side, and carried the remaining bottle to the child, who by now was rubbing his eyes, as he shook of the last remnants of unconsciousness.
Slowly, feeling began to return to the boy's extremities, and he found himself becoming more aware of his surroundings. He let out a yawn, and tried to stretch, but a tingling pain came to him, so he just relaxed and tried to figure out where he was. It was warm in here, that much was certain, and he could hear the sound of something boiling, and the clinking of bottles, so it was obvious that he was not dead. He tried to open his eyes, but they were so heavy that he couldn't open them.
The sound of footsteps on a wooden surface grew louder. Startled, the boy weakly began to shift around. A hand clasped the boy on the shoulder.
"Easy, there boy," A gruff voice urged. "Don't move around too much. You don't want to injure yourself."
The boy relaxed, slightly. He didn't know where he was, or if this person was friendly. He didn't trust this person, though it seemed as though this man had saved his life. In his experience, appearances could be deceiving.
"Drink this," the voice said, as something was gently pressed to his lips.
Unable to speak, the boy turned his head slightly,.
"It will make the pain go away," The voice said calmly, again gently pressing the bottle to his lips.
This time the boy complied, slowly sipping the drink until it was all gone. He gasped as the drink seared down his throat and filled his body with an intense warmth. The pain dimmed, then dulled, and was finally gone. The weariness that had filled him was reduced, and he found himself able to open his eyes.
The first thing the boy saw was a strange looking man in a white robe standing in front of him. The bald man's head was abnormally large and tanned, and his long drooping nose took up a good portion of his face. His deep brown eyes were also large, but bespoke a kind of gruff kindness.
"Where…where am I?" The boy asked, "The last thing I remember was…being attacked by a zombie."
"Gollu, our Iron Golem, saw to it that you were brought to safety," Hanson replied, trying his best to convey a sense of comfort. He was not good with children. "You are in a Village. No mobs can harm you here."
"What is your name, sir?" The boy asked, sitting up.
"You may call me Hanson. And yours?"
There was a moment of silence. The boy, who had been staring intently at Hanson, now shifted his gase to the floor. The seconds ticked by, and then, almost reluctantly, the boy spoke again.
"My parents… they called me Link."
"Well Link, it is good that you brought that up. Where are your parents? A boy such as yourself shouldn't have been wandering outside after dark, much less in this weather."
Link paused for a moment, and Hanson could tell that the question pained the young human.
"They're…Dead," The boy said, fighting back tears. "They were…killed by Creepers. Right in front of me."
Hanson couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor lad.
"I am so sorry, Link."
"It's okay," The boy sobbed.
"I... I guess you will need a place to stay, Link."
What in the names of NOTCH, HEROBRINE, AND ENDEN'S BLOODY BEARDS AM I THINKING!
"Really? You'd do that?" The boy asked looked up at him. "I have been cold for so long..."
"Yes. You can stay here, at least for the night. In the morning I will see if we can make more permanent arrangements for you."
Author's Note: And here ends Chapter Two. What will be in store for the young boy named Link? And what is his significance to the world of Minecraft?
Any reviews, comments, or suggestions would be most appreciated.
