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 1,091 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.

Review replies up top today because you're gonna be - well, I'll keep you in suspense for now.

RusYRP: Dec definitely should have attended those sessions!

TheAmazingQwerty: USER! NO! *starts crying again*

MyBrokenHeart123: Save those tears for later this chapter! You'll need 'em!

ironhideandratchet4ever: Such Darude Sandstorm took place on that day...

DiamondScribe: Your heart - it will be ripped to pieces by the feels in this chapter... I'm giving you a fair warning.

KittKaz: Haha! And just wait for the biggest cliffie EVER! (Literally and figuratively)

WARNING: IF ANY OF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO MASSIVE FEELS, THIS CHAPTER IS FULL OF THEM

Chapter 7

Not so much of a happy birthday for Dec.

So he was fifteen now, big deal. It wasn't like anybody would celebrate it. Once, there had been a time when there was cake and presents, but that was years ago, when Dec's mother was still alive.

Now the only presents Dec got for his birthday was a black eye, and if he was lucky, a bite of non-moldy bread.

Dec was rudely shaken out of bed by Multalta shoving him onto the floor. Dec grunted, scrambling to his feet. He was taller than Multalta now, and just as stockily built without the fat. But Dec was still young and refused to fight back against Multalta.

"Well, boy, I suppose you remember what today is?" Multalta sneered.

"It's probably another day where you get drunk and then beat me up," Dec scowled. Multalta's beady eyes narrowed but he didn't swing his fist at Dec.

"You're fifteen, fool," Multalta growled. "Which means I can legally kick you out of the house now."

"Such joy," Dec grumbled. "And where will you earn the money to pay for your beer? I doubt you can find a job in this town, you lazy swine."

"Watch your tongue, boy!" Multalta roared. "And before you go running off into who-knows-where, I actually got a present for you."

"Yeah right," Dec shot back. "I'll believe that when – when -" Dec's eyes widened as Multalta brought out a mahogany box from behind his back and presented it to Dec.

Dec cautiously took the box, never relaxing even though Multalta didn't strike at him. Dec opened the box, blinking at the sight that met his eyes.

"A dagger?" Dec asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. "Why? This must have been expensive."

"It was," Multalta grumbled. "But it was worth it to see you die."

Dec almost dropped the box. "Wha – what?" he stuttered.

"It was worth the price to see you die," Multalta's eyes gleamed with malice. "This is a finely crafted blade, boy. Made only for cutting – cutting into human flesh."

Realization dawned on Dec and he drew in a sharp intake of breath. "You got me the gift of death," Dec murmured. "I always knew you hated me, but – death?"

"Hate is a powerful word, boy," Multalta laughed cruelly. "Death can be caused be hate. So show me what you can do with that dagger."

Dec picked up the dagger, holding the solid obsidian handle gingerly, as if he were afraid it would burn him. Dec looked at Multalta, an expression devoid of all life set upon his face.

And without another word, Dec drove the dagger into the lit, oil-filled lantern by the side of his bed.

Multalta screamed as he realized Dec's plan, but it was already too late.

Dec flung the lantern onto the floor, smashing it. As he suspected, there were so many places were alcohol had seeped into the floor, that the wooden boards caught fire almost instantly. Dec leapt over the quickly spreading flame, shoving Multalta aside using nothing but his brute strength.

Dec escaped the house, running into the woods with the dagger still in hand as his old house went up in flames behind him.

Later that night, when Dec returned to the place where his house had once stood, it was nothing but charred and smoking ruins. He felt no regret for what he had done, no remorse for destroying all he had ever known, no pity or guilt for ending his stepfather's life in that way.

It was silent.

And Dec welcomed the silence.

XxX

I stared at the drop in front of me, debating if I should really do it.

He had said no one needed me.

Maybe he was right.

After all, what was I? A measly wizard who could never get anything right. Who cared if I had been blessed by Khione? I couldn't even be a good friend for Twisted when he needed me the most. He had run away and I couldn't stop him.

Yeah, no one needed me.

The wind whistled past me, ruffling my hair. The breeze was strong up here, just a few blocks below world height. A mountain formation like this was beyond hard to find. I called it Devil's Claw; an apt name seeing how it curved out of the ground like a giant demon trying to escape from its imprisonment underneath the world.

I took another deep breath, remembering why I had fled here. I had come here to end it. To put an end to my uselessness.

Wizards could be killed. They could be killed by smite weapons. They could be killed by other wizard's spells. They could be killed by the Void.

They could also be killed by falling from a very high place.

Like Devil's Claw.

There was nothing but rocky, boulder-filled ground below this. When I jumped, there would be no soft landing. But at least it would be painless.

As long as I landed facing the right way.

If I landed on my back, I would not die instantly, but instead have to face days in agony before death finally overcame me.

I hoped no one would miss me too much. After all, if they didn't need me, what use was I to them?

So I took one last breath.

And jumped.

At first it felt like flying. The wind was under me, keeping me aloft in the air. I closed my eyes, feeling a few tears trickle down my cheeks, only to be torn away be the wind.

Then, an abrupt change in the wind currents decided to completely screw up my landing.

I suddenly found myself flipped over onto my back by a strong gust of wind and I screamed, flailing my arms and legs as I tried to right myself.

It was too late.

The impact sent red flashing across my vision and I screamed again, agony racing through my body. I slid off the boulder that I had landed on, smearing a trail of bright red blood, and slamming into the pebbly ground.

I – I couldn't move.

I could hear my heart pounding frantically against my chest and I felt blood trickle out of the corner of my mouth.

Metallic blood completely filled my mouth and I coughed, the movement sending more pain racing through me.

My life had turned into one big cloud of torment and anguish.

I coughed again, agony gripping me as I fell unconscious, alone and dying in the most painful way possible.

It - it feels like someone tore my heart right out of my chest and crushed it into a thousand tiny pieces... *cries*

Random Observation: Have a poem depicting the second part of this chapter.

Taken lightly, never thought
A snap, a tear, a broken heart
Chasing winds and down the cliff
Hope and laughter thus depart
Dreaming not of happy times
Only darkness creeping in
A stolen life, the blackest fate
Loss of hope, thief of grin
Howling winds atop a cliff
Matter not for a broken heart
Deadly rocks below the cliff
Only matter for life to part
Splayed and limp
But living pain
Suffering death
And energy slain