I lay still on the hard stone, uncomfortable from the cold yet too afraid to move. The darkness is so absolute, I feel like the darkness has seeped into my eyes.
Uncountable minutes pass. I feel a dull, throbbing pain in my left wrist where the cut was made with the strange, glowing dagger. It is nothing compared to the searing pain of the spider bite, the deep pain of the arrow, or the seemingly unending pain of the voidfire burns, but I find my mind continuing to wander back to my wrist. I know, at some point, the cut will do something to me. I do not know how or when.
The pain in my wrist fades. I know I have made a terrible mistake. Ever since the day I first spawned, I was always warned of the dangers of the monsters that came out at night. But I never thought I would become one. I always thought I could outrun them, or defeat them with my magic. I thought my apprenticeship would continue just as it always did. I thought one day I would claim the void as my own, that I would feel the silky, grey fabric of my own mage's robes between my hands, and in time the red robes of an Arch Mage. I imagined I would have my own house at the top of the hill where the mountains give way to fog-kissed forests and marshland. My carefully constructed rooms of both intense magical research and splendid leisure would have been inside that house, and in the cliffs below, my own dragon would soar between the boulders and trees, its splendid shadow darkening the grass below it, as the wind makes the grass and the dragon's shadow flicker.
But instead, I disobeyed my master. I cowered in fear when he gave me the chance to finally embrace the void and make its power my own. And I resented the pain I felt when I experienced the heat of its flame. When Kenneth used his dream-altering magic against me, all I could feel is fear, as the sacred dream world I always considered separate from reality, was ripped away from my hands and distorted into a lifetime of suffering. Not once, not even for a second, could I even appreciate the complexity behind it all. How can I call myself a mage if, when faced with the greatest magic I have ever witnessed, I run away in fear?
Even now, I cannot comprehend letting myself go back to Kenneth's home. The awe and respect I felt for him all these years is suddenly gone. I can no longer imagine the passion in his face which hinted at the great unknown forces he sought to uncover. His face now seems blank in my mind's eye, just a conduit for a great power that destroys everything in its path.
My wrist is now numb. Slowly, after what feels like hours, I feel the numbness creep up my arm, through my shoulder, and across my chest.
Three faces of strange creatures appear and stare into my eyes, and I realize I can now see the bumps and cracks in the ceiling behind them, as clear as if they were illuminated by the morning sun. The skeleton's poison has begun to change me, making my eyes suited to the darkness.
As I stare at the faces more, I realize I recognize these creatures. I ought to be afraid of them, but somehow they instead make me feel this profound sense of tranquility. The scent coming from them is nothing like I remember. It reminds me of the smell of freshly harvested apples boiling in a pot, and the scent of the ashes left over from the cleanly burning wood which heated the pot.
Then I realize these creatures are creepers, beings which I have always avoided at all cost. Yet they do not harm me, because somehow they already know what I am becoming. That we are on the same side. They stare into my eyes intently, almost as if they are trying to tell me something.
Voices echo off the walls of the cave, and I begin to hear footsteps approaching. The creepers seem to take an interest in these sounds and walk away from me.
As I listen intently to the voices, trying to make out what they are saying, I realize one of the voices belongs to Sarah. She is coming to save me after all, just as I knew she would. I am so lucky to have a friend like her.
"How long has the girl been infected?" Sarah asks.
"About two hours," a male voice replies.
I hear the sound of hissing creepers, likely the ones which just left me.
"Woah there, calm down!" says the male voice. "This is a servant of Herobrine! Can't you tell from the brown hood and the glowing eyes? That's right, thank you! Geez. Sorry about that. Creepers can be so slow-minded sometimes. No offense, guys."
"That's why I'm here with you," Sarah says. "Did the girl attack any of your kind?"
"I don't believe so," says the male voice. At this point, the voices seem like they are directly behind me. "The girl seemed to be running away from something. And she wasn't carrying a weapon."
"Isn't there a rule against infecting children?" Sarah asks with concern.
"She's older than she looks," the male voice says. "Besides, I'd say she got off pretty well. The Aether Guard is quite a prestigious role."
"For the undead."
"Your words sadden me, but yes, for the undead," the male voice says. "But, no offense, you're in a rather low-ranking role for a necromancer yourself. To be honest, you deserve to be a Level 3 at this point."
"My work here isn't done yet, and it has to be done by a Level 2," Sarah insists.
"Yea, but... you've been assigned to this mission for... how long exactly? Thirty years? Look, I get it, you don't want to give up your empathy, but trust me, it's not all it's hyped up to be. I haven't felt any good feelings for humanity since 1478, and I still manage to have a sense of humor."
I do the math and realize this man's loss of empathy, perhaps a result of his transformation, must have occurred over eighty years ago. He could be over a hundred years old. Even Sarah would start to show her age by then. I suppose the passage of time means very little for the undead.
"Neil, I value your opinion, but let me remind you that I'm still a necromancer and you're still a skeleton, which means I outrank you. This conversation is starting to annoy me, and it seems to me you're starting to get a bit uppity. I would like you to leave."
"Of course. My sincerest apologies," the male voice of the skeleton says nervously. The skeleton walks away.
Sarah walks up to me, her eyes still glowing white just as the skeleton said, framed with her brown hooded robe, like a female Herobrine taken straight from the books of myth. I always knew she was involved in some sort of dark, evil magic, but it is still a shock to see that evil directly in front of me. I always thought she kept her brown robe, which she rarely wears, out of humility and disdain for the traditional magi hierarchy... not because of its resemblance to the god of the undead.
"Iris, is that you?" Sarah asks.
"Yes, it is me," I tell her, excited to see her.
Sarah's face is overtaken with a sad realization, and I realize exactly what that realization is. My excitement fades. I may spend the rest of eternity as a monster, cursed to never use magic again.
"Please Sarah, tell me, is there a way to stop this infection?" I plead.
Sarah's glowing eyes stare deep into mine. "I'm afraid there is nothing I can do. Once the infection takes hold, your soul becomes the property of Herobrine. As you could probably guess from my conversation with that skeleton, I am merely one of his servants. I have to take you to my overseer."
I focus warily on the numbing sensation which has spread through my body. I can feel it starting to creep up my neck, and my right leg is almost completely numb. I do not want to die like this. I do not want to lose my soul. What does it even mean for my soul to become the property of Herobrine? Will I even have free will?
Sarah crouches down and reaches out her hand toward me. "Your body is probably numb at this point, but you should still be able to walk."
I grab Sarah's hand and she lifts me up. I feel the pain in my right leg flare up where the arrow is still embedded, in spite of the numbness.
"I'm sorry, you must be in a lot of pain. The pain will pass. I promise," Sarah says.
Part of me does not want the pain to end.
I hold onto Sarah's hand and try to walk beside her. My legs feel like they are wading through honey.
We eventually reach the mouth of the cave. The sky is blue and the forest trees are a daytime green, but the stars in the sky betray the true time of day. We continue to walk through the forest until we reach Sarah's cabin. The light inside is blindingly bright, no longer the comforting indoor glow I once associated with safety.
Sarah brings me downstairs into her basement. We pass by a few towers of crates until we reach a small, open space. Up against the wall is a multi-level rack with clothing for various occasions, such as Sarah's skeleton armor and grey robe, as well as a few modest iron weapons and tools. There is also a small table with strange, circular symbols carved into its top, with several small drawers with intricate round metal handles. The circular symbols on the surface of the table must be runes. In the short time I was a mage, I never had the opportunity to learn runecrafting. I inspect the circular symbols closely, trying to understand what they mean, knowing I may never have the chance again.
Sarah opens up the top drawer to this small, ornate table, and pulls out a metal rod. She hands this rod to me.
"Hold on tight to this," she says. "Your transformation hasn't progressed far enough to allow you to travel to the Red Aether on your own, so you will need this device to bring you there. Don't let go even for a second, or you'll become trapped in the void."
I nod warily. This may be the first of many things I will have to learn as I come to accept this new state of existence.
Sarah lifts her hands above her head and closes her eyes. Red sparks appear around her body, and multiply until her body is completely covered by the sparks. When the sparks fade away, there is nothing left behind.
I feel the rod vibrating in my hand, and hold onto it tightly. My entire body and the world around me seem to vibrate as well, the blindingly bright light twisting and distorting until I find myself in a small, more dimly lit room full of red haze. There are crates here similar to the ones in Sarah's basement. A small, circular rune is engraved into the floor beneath my feet, similar to the circular patterns that were engraved into the unusual table in Sarah's basement.
Sarah takes the metal rod out of my hand and holds onto my hand. In spite of the numbness, her grip is reassuring.
"Keep your thoughts to yourself, and try to relax, and you should come out of this okay," Sarah says.
We walk through the door out of the small room and into a hallway. A skeleton with glowing red orbs in their eye sockets walks toward us and pauses, staring at me intently. As we pass it, it resumes walking through the hall. The red haze seems to follow us wherever we walk. It seems the Red Aether speaks true to its name.
We reach a large room, where an armored man with glowing white eyes sits at a desk, holding a spherical, polished redstone gem in his hands, as big as his palms are wide. Two armored skeletons with glowing red eye sockets and swords at the ready stand to either side of him, and another, heavily-armored skeleton holding a two-handed hammer stands directly behind him. Two bow-weilding, red-eyed skeletons stand at each hallway connected to the room. At one of the benches which wraps around the corners of the room, a brown-cloaked individual hastily writes on a scroll with a flint shard. Whoever the man sitting at the desk is, he seems very important.
The man at the desk sets the redstone sphere down onto a small, cup-shaped stone object dedicated to holding the sphere, then pushes his hands against the desk, the smoothness of his motion displaying elegant and awful power.
As the man rises from his chair, I feel a strong compulsion to kneel, and feel my knees touch the ground. I look down toward the ground in deference. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sarah crouched down on one knee. Just a bit higher than me. What a strange experience. My infection has not even finished, and my body already understands its rank.
I hear the man's footsteps echo as he approaches. He places his palm upon my back, and rests it there for a moment.
"Her soul is strong. Where did you find her?" The man asks.
"Neil Turpentine, infected Year 18775, found her running in the forest and infected her, then brought me to her," Sarah says, with a level of precision in her words that is not typical for her.
The man removes his hand from my back.
"Child, what is your name?" the man asks.
"Iris Matterhelm," I tell him.
"Iris," the man begins, "from what do you come from?"
"I am the apprentice of Mage Kenneth Forthright... or, at least, I used to be, until I became infected," I correct myself.
"Is this true?" the man asks Sarah.
"Yes, it is true," Sarah says.
The man turns around, his gloved hands clasped together behind the back of his strangely layered metal chestplate. He walks slowly toward the front of his desk, and then, in a spontaneous fit of violence, lifts his arm above his head and slams the desk, the sound of the collision echoing throughout the room. The man curses.
Then, the man calms down. He spreads his hands across the desk, as if to smooth out some invisible bump made by his impact, leaning his bodyweight over his arms.
"Then this girl is unfit for the Aether Guard," the man says. "We are forbidden from interfering in Forthright's research. Taking away his apprentice would count as interference. What an incredible waste of time. Under other circumstances, Neil's conduct would be rewarded. Unfortunately I cannot reward actions which do not lead to an outcome. I will task you with finding me a replacement."
"Understood," Sarah says.
"I must be frank," the man says. "I do not understand what the Recorders see in this man. He is overconfident. Delusional. Doesn't even see himself as human. I may have been blessed with the gifts of the Lord throughout the years, but even I have the sense to realize I am still human. We all are. That is the curse we are forced to bear. Any human which does not realize this is doomed to die quickly."
The man turns toward us. "But alas, my mind is too small to comprehend the plans of the Recorders, the Caretakers, and the others. I do not see the big picture, the pieces of history fitting together which have led up to this point. I must have faith."
The man places his hand on my wrist, where the cut was made with the glowing red dagger. The numbness seems to be sucked out of the right side of my body and through the cut. Eventually the extent of the numbness shrinks to just my left arm and then my hand, and then it is gone. The cut is replaced with smooth skin.
The man then grunts and pulls the arrow out of my leg, and the pain is replaced by a sweet warmth. He then hovers his hand over my other leg, and the pain of the spider bite vanishes. Only the pain of the voidfire remains. I feel my shoulders sink in relief. I will live another day after all.
"I have healed all wounds from your encounter, and have undone the infection," the man says. "I will inform the monsters of the mountains under my command that you are off-limits. This is not a guarantee of your safety. Any monsters beyond those mountains will still attack you, and not all monsters within them will recognize your status. Defend yourself if you must. And one more thing..."
The man grabs my hand and pulls me up onto my feet.
"Remember that you owe your life to me now. Someday, I may ask you to repay that debt. It would be wise of you not to refuse."
I nod in understanding. It is not every day a servant of Herobrine cures you from a monster infection.
The man steps back. "You are both free to go."
Sarah leads me out of the room. We walk back down the hall, into the crate-filled room, and through the runic portal back to Sarah's basement. My body feels lighter now that the numbness is gone.
Sarah turns to face me. "You were planning on running away from Kenneth, weren't you?"
"Why?" I ask. "Would that mean I would have to be infected again?"
"That depends on whether you are planning to return."
"I am not sure."
Sarah smiles sadly. "Then I guess all I can do is wish you luck. But can you at least tell me what happened? How did you get those void burns? Did Kenneth hurt you?"
I nod. "Kenneth wanted me to embrace the void for the first time, but I was too cowardly to follow through. So, he burned me with the void from his own mana pool. The next night, as an extension of my punishment, he made me experience many nightmares. It was so horrifying that I could not endure my master's presence any longer. So I ran away."
Sarah's eyes gaze outward in concern. "I was afraid something like that might happen. Ever since Miner was drafted as a battlemage in the war against Planara, Kenneth has gotten bolder and bolder. He's started using the portals without telling me, trying to hide his actions from me and cut me out of his newest research. He failed to hide his portal usage, of course, but I'm still trying to figure out what he was doing in those foreign worlds. It's starting to get out of hand. My overseer really underestimates him.
"But there's one thing I need to know," Sarah continues. "Why would you ever come back to Kenneth, after what he did to you?"
"Because I still want to be a void mage," I tell her, "just like him."
Sarah smiles. "Part of me wishes you didn't have a reason to come back. But, ironically, that reason is the one thing that's keeping you alive."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"Why were you assigned to be a part of Kenneth's research?" I ask Sarah.
Sarah looks at me with sadness. "I don't know. Even my overseer doesn't know. But if I had to guess... It's possible there's something out there in those other dimensions we're researching that even the God of Humanity realizes is outside his control."
"But Stephine is the God of Humanity, is he not?" I question.
Sarah looks at me with grave seriousness. "He may babysit a few diamond-level miners, but for the rest of humanity, he doesn't have control over what happens to them when they die."
"Then we are worshipping the wrong god?" I wonder.
Sarah nods gravely. "That's right."
My mind swarms as I realize what this means. A lot of things I learned about the gods could be a lie. There may be a deeper reason why we lose our memories when we die. And spawning has very different implications when under the control of a god that unleashed monsters upon the world.
But more importantly, what is out there in those other dimensions that Kenneth and Sarah are studying? And why would a god older than Minecraftia itself, capable of controlling the fates of human souls, not already know about it?
"But don't worry," Sarah continues. "Herobrine doesn't care if people worship him or not. As far as He's concerned, humanity is just a part of nature that needs to be kept under control. You shouldn't worry yourself with those sorts of things."
Sarah gives me a hug.
"I'm just so happy that you're still alive. You've been a great friend to me. I would have been sad to see you go."
I reciprocate Sarah's hug, squeezing her tight.
"I will miss you," I tell Sarah. "I hope we meet again soon."
The more I learn about the dimensions Kenneth and Sarah are studying, the more I want to experience those dimensions myself. But I know Kenneth will not let me near them until I become a void mage. That is precisely what I have wanted to do since the beginning. I do not understand why my mind keeps fighting against it.
But until I overcome my irrational fear of my own master, there is no hope for me to progress in my studies. I should just go home.