I hear a nervous knocking on the door, and realize that I must have slept in. I force myself to breathe in, opening my eyes, only to stare at the burning brightness of the high noon sun. I squint to protect my now sore corneas, glancing downward opposite my now raised arm, as I hastily shuffle my way off my bed and onto the creaky wood floor. I feel apprehension and fear that the sun will burn me under its vindictive gaze. Then I realize with relief that I am wearing the armor; it will protect me from the sight of the sun.

Is this another nightmare?

I gather the courage to lift my eyes to a level angle. Around me are familiar surroundings: the cobblestone etched in shadow from the bright skylight, the sun-bleached pine desk with the feather quill and ink propped up, with the Farmcrafter's Almanac resting closed beside it. To its right is a well-worn dust covered chest, and to its left the ever-present cobwebs which always seems to return no matter how many times they are swept away. Surely an environment which so closely resembles reality cannot be a nightmare, but at the same time a place that looked as accurately like my room as in reality existed within a nightmare. It is too soon to tell.

I remember with urgency that there is someone waiting at the door. Already fully dressed in armor, I do not bother searching for shoes. I grab my satchel from the floor, step with haste down the stairs into the foyer, and rush towards the door to open it. It is Jonas, breathing heavily. Underneath his cloak, he is wearing his iron chestplate where normally his farmer vest and burlap pants can barely be seen. He has a large leather bag strapped over his shoulder. His sword is strapped to his side.

"Fristad!" He exhales with relief. "Thank Notch you're alright! I was waiting for you by the corral all this morning; I had the hogs saddled up and everything..." He pulls the bag's strap over his head and lifts up the bag. "Do you need help packing?"

"Wait... where are we going? Why are we packing?"

"We're going to see my cousin, remember? He's just in the next town over."

"Oh yea, right." I take the bag from him. "So what do I need to pack?"

"Anything you want to bring that isn't food and water." Jonas explains. "The journey will take about a day and a half, so things like a change of clothes, an axe, and the like. You shouldn't need to pack much in terms of necessities, but I thought I'd bring a bigger bag just in case you needed more room for the... um..." He stares a bit sheepishly at me, scanning from my skeleton boots up to my skull cap. "...your armor. I figured my cousin could take a look at that as well."

I nod at him. "I agree. I'll start gathering my things. You wait just a minute; I won't be long."

I turn around and head upstairs to grab the almanac and another set of clothes from the dusty chest, and put them both inside the leather bag. Then I quickly unstrap and pull off the skeleton armor, and place that in the bag as well. I step into the shoes at the top of the stairs, and head back down into the foyer where Jonas is waiting by the door. I open the chest near him and take out the leather chestplate, sword, and axe inside. I quickly slip the axe into the bag's side pocket, strap the sword to my side, and pull on the leather chestplate. I nod at Jonas.

"Are you ready?" asks Jonas.

"Yea."

"Let me get that bag for you. I'll strap it onto your hog."

"Okay."

I hand the bag to Jonas. He takes it by the handle and carries it out to the hogs. I lean forward to step outside, but something feels terribly wrong. I feel hesitant. I lean my head away, backing slowly from the door.

I can't help but feel deathly afraid of the light. Even the idea of putting my finger out into it, just to test it, just to see what it feels like, only evokes expectations of terrible anguish and burning pain. Just seeing its indirect glow shining off of the gravel makes my legs stiff; it makes me want to sprint down into the darkest confines of the earth, or at least into the closet, the only place within safe reach where there is true darkness, true safety...

I look out towards Jonas, whose face seems to take on a different, unnerving appearance. Somehow his face seems to belong not to a friend, but to a heartless monster. I feel his presence as if it were tangible; it causes anger and hatred to flow into the pit of my stomach. There he is, that thief, packing away my precious armor onto the backs of his malicious steeds, purposefully making me feel vulnerable, insecure. I can't let him steal it from me! I have to take the armor back from this monster...

I shove this corrupted perception of Jonas out of my consciousness. Why do I even think these terrible things? I know what kind of person Jonas is.

"Hey um... Jonas?"

Jonas turns away from the hogs and my bag he just strapped to the one on the right. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry but... It's just that... What I mean to say is..." I struggle to block the anger I feel from Jonas out of my mind, trying hard to maintain a considerate tone. "I can't go on without the skeleton armor. I need it. It..." I struggle to find the right words to describe how much I need it... the total necessity the armor is for me... how awfully I need to have it back... while restraining insults and aggression aimed at Jonas that are a plague sickened by my need for it... "It... the armor makes me feel safe."

"Alright then," Jonas says. He turns around again and pulls my precious armor out of the leather bag, and brings it to me.

I grab it from him and run into the dark closet under the stairwell, closing the door. I quickly rip my old leather shirt off, so quickly that the sleeve tears, and I kick my old shoes off against the wall. Then I lift the skeleton armor up and place each piece on gingerly one by one, starting by sliding on the skull cap, then strapping on the chestpiece, then stepping into the leggings, and finally stepping carefully into the boots. Their protective touch reassures me. I feel a wave of relief wash over me. I remember what a good friend Jonas is. I feel like myself again.

I open the closet door and exit into the dim indoor light. As I walk through the foyer, and I walk into the light outside, I feel nothing. There is no uneasiness; it's as if I never experienced the fear of light before. I close the front door behind me, and approach the hog on the right. Despite the leather saddle and heavy bags hanging over it, it seems content. The pupil in the eye of the hog turns toward me, observing me with calm and innocence. I bend my knees, and jump to reach my leg over to the other side of the saddle. It grunts politely from the thump as I land on the saddle. In front of me, Jonas has climbed up onto his hog as well. He turns his head over his shoulder, so that his purple eyes can see me.

"Are you ready to leave?" asks Jonas.

"Yes, I'm ready."

And, with that, we lightly kick the sides of the hogs, guiding them down the town road, traveling downhill towards the forest, and into the depths of the shadow and trees, through a manmade gravel path that is narrow but well-traveled.