Hey ya'll, it's Enderdeath! I hope you're having a great day, but I don't know if I'll make it any better with this new chapter... So yeah. This chapter has 1,415 words. NOTE: I do not own Mianite, any YouTubers mentioned, Minecraft, and really, I don't own anything except the idea. ALSO: I am not claiming the real Declan actually deals with this sort of thing, nor do I; this is purely fantasy.

Chapter 3

Dec stared numbly at the gold ingots in front of him. Over the past few days, the cuts on his arms had multiplied at a terrifyingly rapid rate. He had been feeling more and more listless, and could now barely summon up the energy to get out of bed.

"Dec? Are you feeling all right?" Dec glanced up as Champwan's question reached his ears. His old assistant was staring at him with a worried gaze.

"To tell the truth, I've got some cuts that are getting infected," Dec could no longer bring himself to lie. He slowly unwrapped his bandages, revealing the long scars criss-crossing the length of his left arm. Champwan gasped quietly and immediately started rummaging through some cabinets behind him, searching for something intently.

Champwan straightened back up, a small bottle filled with a gray-green salve held in his hands. He uncorked it, dipping his index finger into the paste.

"Lay your arm right here, Dec," Champwan tapped a place on the counter right in front of him. Dec forced himself to move his arm, letting it rest where Champwan had indicated, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out in pain. Champwan spread the salve over Dec's cuts, eyes narrowed in concentration, yet filled with sorrow.

Dec sighed in relief as a cool feeling spread over his arm, numbing the pain. "Thanks Champwan," Dec half-smiled.

"I know how you got these cuts, Dec," Champwan spoke slowly, avoiding Dec's gaze. "I don't know why you did it, but I only want to help you."

Dec pulled his arm away and averted his gaze, not wanting Champwan to see the tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, standing still as Champwan walked around the counter.

"Dec, please understand what I'm about to say," Champwan voice was soft, yet firm. "I'm not here to judge you. I'm here to be your friend. If you ever need help, please, please come to me."

Dec trembled. "I'm just scared of trusting any - anyone." Champwan suddenly pulled Dec into a hug, his arms wrapping around the shorter priest.

"What did I just tell you?" He murmured, voice slurred with tears. "I'm here to be your friend. Never think that I won't be." Dec felt a warm relief spread through him and he felt the conflict in his heart ease off slightly for a moment.

"Thanks," he breathed, closing his eyes.

Champwan backed away and put his hand under Dec's chin, lifting his head so they were looking at each other eye to eye. "Now you need a place to stay while you heal. I'm more than willing to let you be my houseguest. I can take care of you." Dec turned his head away.

"I can't ask you to do that," Dec felt sorrow creeping through him again. "I'm too much of a problem already."

Champwan narrowed his eyes, pulling the bandana down from his mouth. "I'm ordering you now - never call yourself a problem again. You are not a problem. And you weren't asking me - I was telling you."

Dec started backing away, his desperation to be alone becoming overwhelming. "Don't do that for me," Dec shook his head as Champwan took a step after him. "Don't burden yourself."

Champwan's eyes blazed. "You are not a burden!" Champwan raised his voice and Dec flinched. "I will not let you call yourself that!"

"That's all I am though," Dec's voice was barely audible. "I'm of no use to any of you."

Champwan buried his face in his hands, drawing in a shaky breath. "Why do you think that?" Champwan whispered. "What have any of us done to make you believe that?"

"Jordan," Dec answered. "He couldn't care less. Tucker sometimes forgets that I exist. Don't even get me started on Sonja."

"But what about Tom? Or Aurey?" Champwan pressed. "Tom is proud to be friends with you, and Aurey's told me several times that she thinks you're an interesting person to be around."

"Aurey's nice to everyone. So is Tom. It wouldn't matter to much to them if I were to -" Dec took a deep breath, "If I were to kill myself."

Champwan closed his eyes and with a start, Dec realized his old assistant was crying. Crystal tears were tracing their way down his cheeks and Champwan wiped them away with his scarlet bandana.

"It would matter to me," Champwan drew in a shuddering breath. "Dec, when you found me, I was lost and alone. You saved my life. I can never repay that. If you – if you died in that way, I would never be able to get over it."

"You would. You don't need me around," Dec turned away, sprinting out of Champwan's fortress without looking back. He heard Champwan call his name, pleading for him to come back, but Dec ignored him, with only one destination in mind where he could escape.

The Nether.

XxX

It was April 30th when Dec learned he was a demigod.

He didn't mean to find out, nor did he anticipate the consequences. And to be perfectly honest, he really preferred the ground before the crater.

But it really wasn't his fault either.

It had been a bad day already. The weather was miserable, raining and cold. It was three years to the day since his mother had died. His father was absent from the house, but Dec could hear him shouting obscenities from inside the local bar.

Which brought him to remember yet again that he was living in possibly the worst town in all of Minecraftia. Sure, it was small, but between the black market, the illegal wolf fighting arena and the sketchiest bar known to even the gods, add on the lack of law enforcement and 'bingo!' You had Dec's current home.

Thankfully, the corruption did not extend to the birch woods, where Dec was currently sitting on a fallen tree. The woods were his only place of refuge, refuge from the horrible reality that made up his life.

Unless of course, the horrible reality that made up his life decided to come to him.

Dec's eyes widened as the rancid stench of alcohol and vomit drifted through the trees, becoming increasingly more pungent. The young boy stood up as a brute of a man stumbled through the trees, bearing a remarkable resemblance to a wild hog. The man's face was scrunched up, his eyes were watery, and his lips were distorted into a sneer. One hand was curled around a half empty bottle of beer, and the other was curled around nothing, forming a fist.

"Multalta," Dec tried to back away, but he was knocked to the ground by the man, Multalta. He closed his eyes, bracing himself.

He merely gritted his teeth when Multalta swung his hand at Dec's shoulder, sending a jolt of pain rushing to the bone. Even if it was Dec's own father who was doing this, it didn't bother him too much emotionally as there was no feeling of consanguinity between them.

Dec scrambled to his feet, his eyes filled with a hard resolve. "You think it takes a punch to break me?" He taunted, knowing full well that he would probably have a mouth full of broken teeth within the next five seconds.

Multalta's eyes flared with anger and he dropped his beer bottle, letting it shatter on the ground. He lunged at Dec, both hands closing around the boy's throat.

Dec's gasped hoarsely and he vainly clawed at Multalta's hands, the struggle to breath becoming overwhelming. Fire seemed to burn inside his lungs and he finally shoved away from Multalta, wheezing as he attempted to breathe regularly again.

"More than a punch, boy? Is that what you asked for?" Multalta's voice was deep, rough, and slurred. "Well from now on, that's what you'll get."

Dec screamed, a sudden burst of rage exploding inside him. Dark red lightning struck the ground mere inches from his feet and both he and Multalta were thrown back from the force of the explosion. Black spots danced in front of Dec's eyes and his ears were ringing.

When Dec could see clearly again, he looked around for Multalta. His stepfather had fled the clearing, leaving the boy alone with the smoking crater where the lightning had struck.

Dec studied his hands as if he were just realizing they were his own.

"Well," Dec said aloud. "It looks like I may be a demigod."

Dec retreats to the Nether for safety... he can summon bolts of dark red lightning... he can talk with mobs... if that doesn't prove who Dec's father is, nothing will!

Random Observation: "KittKaz: Uh- who's gonna die to your hands, Mr. Thomas?
Tom: OH I don't know, maybe JORDAN because he'll probably be dead before he gets bloody TRIAALED FOR BREAKING ARENA RULES DAMNIT! Jardon, your one job was to follow the rules. Not even a Dianitee like me would stoop that low. Kitt, EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT SPARKLY DICK WAS THINKING."

RusYRP: Don't you worry, Qwerty and I trialed Sparkly Pants - we gave him makeup, bunny slippers, and a sombrero as his punishment!

TheAmazingQwerty: DEC, NO! COME BACK!

ironhideandratchet4ever: :(

DiamondScribe: 'Deccy-weccy' - I was so sad about the rest of your review, but I kept laughing whenever I read 'Deccy-weccy!' Simply brilliant!

Ianitethecookie: Indeed! Very necessary!

KittKaz: I had to include that above phrase! I couldn't stop laughing! But I have to warn you... Dec's 'problem' will only get worse...