Lost Heroes, Demigods, and Creatures of Forgotten Ages.
Again, Steve looked at the words scribbled in neat handwriting right beneath the title of the book, before returning to the page where he held his finger.
Upon the page was an illustration of a man, whose face was covered by a skull mask. A ragged black robe hung across a skeletal frame. In one hand, bony, pale fingers held a black flame that resembled a distorted skull.
Steve stared at the being with morbid fascination, his blue eyes curiously flicking to the symbols that lay beneath the image, doubtlessly describing the menacing being's title and history. There was no accompanying note, though, for which Steve was searching for. Disappointed, Steve carefully turned the page of the book and curiously eyed the next image.
A beautiful woman looked back at him with somber, brown eyes half concealed in shadow of long, dark eyelashes. Disdainful, yet playful smile held on her softly shaped face framed by silky, black locks gently cascading to her exposed shoulders. A spiky crown or maybe a mask, adorned with numerous spider eyes rested upon her forehead. And a gown of silk streamed down her body, revealing shapely forms. Only at the waist her body changed to that of an enormous spider. Skulls and rotten bones of unfortunate heroes, bewitched by her alluring beauty to their deaths, formed a pedestal beneath her spiky legs.
Steve nervously huffed. "Um… Arachnia?" He muttered a quiet guess and immediately flinched at the sound of skittling spiders above the numerous bookshelves where countless spiderwebs hung like a canopy. His search did not find any of the local eight-legged residents. He still couldn't help a slightly nervous shiver as he looked down back to the book.
The being shown in the previous picture was probably a necromancer of some kind. This one he thought he dimly recognized. He had read before some ancient tale about the Spider Queen – a woman whose search into the dark magic arts and various poisons led her to studying spiders and creating an elixir that could grant eternal beauty and youth. Only, it came at a price. Once taken, the potion transformed that woman into a spider, granting her powers to command all such mobs and also to choose to be reborn from one of her own eggs if killed. The legend also mentioned that she felt an irresistible compulsion to draw worthy heroes into her lair, where she would consume them after granting such passion that they would die still smiling as they were lost in pleasant dreams.
"Arachnia… Or... Black Widow?" He squinted as another story tried to emerge from recesses of his mind. His blue eyes thoughtfully fell to the crown and he nodded. "No… Definitely Arachnia." He firmly concluded in a barely audible voice.
He turned to the next page.
A man with a single mauve eye, the other covered with a black band featuring a skull with crossed bones, looked at him from the bow of his ship. Instead of one hand, holding on firmly to the rudder was a strange metallic contraption. A sharp looking hooked blade lay folded up along metal cords that reminded Steve of tendons running up and disappearing beneath the sleeve of the man's dark, tattered robe. More metal showed below his knee, replacing one of his legs. The man's long coat whipped about his gaunt, but muscular body in the strong wind and splashes of water from raging waves. The sails of the ship looked ghostly, flying like rags on a skeletal form of the ship behind the man.
Steve didn't even attempt to guess. Looking below the image, he found the translated words written in even, accurate handwriting between the foreign symbols. "Cursed Captain… Destined to sail the seas to the End of the Worlds".
Curiously, Steve studied the image, then turned to the next page.
The next image held two figures. A man with a smirk on his pale, young face, while an aura of fire and flame roared behind him. Two bat like wings, folded, held in the semblance of a huge trailing cape behind his back. On his head lay a thin circlet of silver metal. His clothing comprised of a black suit that looked strangely unmarred while lava burned behind him where another imposing figure stood – a skeleton with a heavy crown of rubies upon his head, holding a scepter.
"Oh! I know this one!" Steve perked up and grinned at the somber skeleton. "Skeleton King! And this… This must be…" His eyes returned to the first figure, roved across him a bit, then turned to the note below in frustration. "Death Mage? Orev the Shapeshifter? Trickster?"
Even Herobrine did not know who it was and it was his notes that Steve was reading, he was almost sure of it by now, since he came across same handwritten notes across several books already. Steve relaxed a bit. Knowing that even Herobrine had no clue who these people were made Steve feel a little better about his ignorance. Slightly amused, he looked at the frustrated question marks and turned the page.
The next legendary figure was definitely familiar. A man rode a raging sea wave, his head crowned with a crystal blue diadem, a diamond trident held in one hand. The lower half of his body was that of either a great serpent or an enormous spiky tailed fish. Behind him crowded angry mermen, their long hair flowing so Steve had hard time telling if they were male or female. Their lower bodies displayed finned tails shorter than that of their king. Steve briefly admired the detail by the unknown artist displaying transparent turrets of a great underwater city peeking in the dim sea depths. The image looked so real that he could almost feel the freshness of splashes as the salty cool air blew toward his face.
Steve turned the page and curiously looked a tall man who seemed nearly human, except for the eyes gleaming red from a stern, angular face, ominously hidden in shadow cast by a wide-brimmed hat. In both his hands, the man held strange scepters where wisps of smoke came trailing in the air - doubtlessly weapons of some sort, even though Steve had never seen their like before. Drab looking two-story houses and horse riders showed at a distance in the brown tones. The note below did not even attempt to identify him, only drew another impatient question mark./p
Steve kept turning the pages.
The beings in drawings became more and more fantastical. Steve's blue eyes held in fascination on half-men half-horses, half-pigs half-men, enormous pig like creatures with tusks and a stocky body, slimy green monsters stifling the life out of some unfortunate victims as they screamed, being engulfed alive. A gray skinned man in a dark robe with a golden hem, stood with both his hands lifted as several ghostly beings floated above him. Them, Steve recognized as Vex. Herobrine summoned such creatures against him in the mansion.
Remembering their attacks, stinging his skin as he ran, stumbling and falling, while Herobrine's menacing presence followed him behind, inexorable and also amused by Steve's terror. Steve shivered and hastily tried to push the unbidden memory to the far recesses of his mind.
Herobrine would never do something like this again. He was sure of it.
Another memory emerged despite his volition. The cold feel of sharp metal edge pressing against his neck, while a silky, dark voice coldly told him. Trust me.
Steve swallowed, quickly turning the page yet again. The next image showed a tall, black form that strongly resembled an Enderman, but with its forearms greatly extended and an additional set of arms aggressively reaching toward the viewer. Its maw gaped impossibly wide as its purple eyes glared at Steve from the page with unreasoning hatred and anger. Behind him, darkness enveloped the background, where only nearest forms stood out to view – bunched bits of wilted grass and dark, tilled ground. Again, Steve swallowed. He knew this status effect. Blindness. Herobrine had done it to him on occasion, too. Searching for something to distract him, Steve lowered his desperate gaze to the note written below the image.
"Soul Hand Effect…" He read out loud and for a moment puzzled over the words. He had no clue on what it meant and there was no other explanation.
His sudden anxiety, however, had already quieted. Making a quiet humph, Steve began to list through the other images quickly until he found what he expected. Herobrine was mentioned in this book as well. His image showed up right after the image dedicated to yet another half-serpent girl, who sat on a rock this time, singing and paying no heed to the ship crashing on the sharp cliffs behind her while seamen on it continued to stare at her, mesmerized.
On the next page, stood Herobrine – the only legend Steve met in real life, who even after the very first day, already evoked feelings of amazement and fascination along with trembling fear. He was much less scared of him now, Steve reflected to himself and even smiled, ease settling over his mind. He finally proved to Herobrine that he only meant well. He would not betray him.
Steve studied the image of the tall, imposing man who looked back at him with a menacing smirk, his white eyes glowing brightly in the night. Herobrine's face in the image looked nothing like him. This being's face looked more angular, his lips blood-red on a very pale face, which reminded Steve more of vampires than those of a human. Very sharp, black nails that looked like claws showed on his hand, grasping an enchanted diamond pickaxe dripping with blood. Hazy images of spiders, skeletons, endermen, and other vicious monsters showed behind him. There was no note beneath it.
"Ruler of All Monsters... Herobrine..." Steve said it anyway. He had read this title in so many other books, which he searched after that frightening, ill encounter. He couldn't help an uneasy scoff. As always, the image left no doubt to anyone's mind that the being depicted within was anything less than a cruel, heinous monster. It was a pity that Herobrine did his best to live up to that reputation, while if caught unaware, he showed himself a very different person. Steve still could not understand why he did this. He was very very glad to learn though that the legends about him were not very accurate.
Steve merely skimmed the pages after this. The other beings shown in this book were mostly a mix of humans and other monsters and creatures. There had been some non-human entities as well. More serpents wielding magic of the elements such as fire, water, and frost. A giant jellyfish with threads of glowing tentacles. Poisonous spiders looking from cave walls. Bats that were probably the size of Steve, carrying away an entire deer in their claws. A magnificent earth dragon guarded its treasure. A fire dragon reared its gleaming scaled body from the molten lava as it breathed out flames against tiny dark figures of heroes that dared to disturb its rest. Steve even found the Ender Dragon. The great dragon of pure black glared at him from the page with mauve eyes while purple flames curled behind it. Beams of silver pure light shot to it from strange, white crystals hovering above the black pillars. Steve frowned at that, not recalling seeing such during his brief foray with Herobrine to the End.
Steve listed across more pages, coming across yet another creature that seemed pure fantasy – a being with three heads that looked like monstrous skulls, atop a wide, powerful body with a serpent's tail. Ghostly light glistened across mounds of white sand where distorted faces appeared and sunk away, their mouths wide open in screams. A skeletal three headed dragon? Steve squinted for the hand-written note.
"The Wither..." He read, puzzled. There was nothing else. Just this short statement. Did this mean that this creature really existed? He would have to ask Herobrine about it, Steve made a mental note.
A yawn stretched his jaws. Closing the book, Steve carefully placed it upon the small stack of books on the side of the table. All of these seemed really interesting, and he fully intended to push his luck as he took Herobrine up on his promise. Herobrine did say that he was going to answer his questions.
Steve stretched, leaning back in the comfortable, cushioned chair, and stood up. As he did, he carefully lay aside the soft, plush blanket covered with teddy bears. He looked at it fondly, not bothering to hide a smile. Finding it among Herobrine's personal things had been unexpected and brought a foolish grin to his face even then.
Steve then glanced at the ender chest, which stood next to his table.
These chests that Herobrine entrusted to his use were really an amazing thing.
"Everything that I consider of value, I keep there. If I did not, then I might lose hard to obtain or even irreplaceable items. This way, everything remains safe, even if I should die. I have a limited inventory just like you, Steve. Or any player. But items in it can be lost upon death. That's why I prefer this method. I can normally reach my items from any chest, even if it's not nearby. Unfortunately, my current state makes some of my abilities unstable. That's why I could not help you until we came to the End, where Alstor restored some of my power. The healing potions you needed are all stored in those chests as well. You may take as many as you think you will need. Just in case."
Herobrine's voice sounded calm, but Steve could see the guilt heavy in the way the man looked at him. White eyes broke eye-contact as the man lowered his gaze.
"I must also apologize to you for what I did. I know it frightened you. I had to test whether those two Players would stop if they perceived a threat to one of their own That's why I pretended to them that you were my prisoner. That's why I said all those things. Unfortunately, they proved to be one of their worse kind. They did not care in the least about what happened to you, so long as they achieved their goal, which is destroying me."
"Its all right. I understand." Steve smiled, earning himself another quiet look, which only somewhat shifted to relief at Steve's willingness to forgive.
"I also once again became carried away. It is very difficult to stop when battle begins. I truly hoped to deal with those two before our escape. I not only failed but lost one of my servants as well. Not all mobs belong to me, despite what many tales claim. I can control most, but they are empty shells with no mind or will of their own. I use them merely as tools or weapons. Some, however, become more than servants. It pains me that I may have lost yet another." Regret came heavy in Herobrine's voice.
"You mean that Enderman, who protected you when that… player attacked?"
Herobrine made a soft nod, his eyes hooded.
"Can you not bring him back?" Steve could not help asking. At Herobrine's frowning glance turning in his direction with a silent question, Steve shrugged with a sheepish smile. "The tales say that you can bring your mobs back from death at will." He explained. Herobrine visibly sighed, his shoulders slightly slumping.
"I saved his ender pearl. Perhaps enough of him remains that I can bring him back. Once I recover more strength." Herobrine said thoughtfully, sending a burst of hope through Steve's chest. It did make him sad to see one of Herobrine's creatures perish under the strike of a weapon meant to slay Herobrine, himself. The being sacrificed itself to protect its master. It deserved to live again. Somehow, Steve had no doubt that Herobrine would succeed, even though the man did not seem too confident about this. He seemed weary, despite being briefly rejuvenated by the power his beastly friend gave him a short time ago.
"I've given you access to everything I have. It is easier than you searching these halls for loot in treasure chests, even though they often spawn here at random. You only have to wish for it and the relevant item will appear, if its there. You may take whatever you wish. I have no use for most of it and can easily obtain more. I trust your… good sense to leave alone items that you do not recognize." Herobrine frowned at Steve in warning and Steve hastily nodded.
"You should also rest. You may pick any room. Once I wake, there will be much to do."
Steve should have followed Herobrine's advice. He did feel tired after his stressful ordeal. He was also nearly giddy with excitement, at least at first. Given access to Herobrine's treasures, he simply could not resist. He took full advantage of Herobrine's generous offer and got a little carried away. Ignoring the treasures troves of diamonds and gold, along with other precious materials that he didn't dare touch, he filled half his inventory with the rare potions, despite not being sure on occasion what they were. The mysterious liquids gleamed so brightly in different colors in their vials, along with the already familiar red.
Then, feeling famished, Steve searched for food. To his delight, he discovered that Herobrine had racks of ready-made dishes along with food ingredients of all kinds, utensils and spices. There were even several small, portable stoves, crafting tables, furnaces, and tools.
And of course, there were weapons.
Steve could not help spending at least an hour admiring the various types of swords, staffs, knives, and pickaxes, from simple bronze to dark-glimmering enchanted alloys that he could not even readily identify. Eventually, he picked up several simple iron swords and tools, figuring that Herobrine would not mind him borrowing those. He resolved to make a full account of what he took once Herobrine woke up.
"Mobs may spawn here on occasion. Do not worry. None of them will harm you so long as I remain here." Herobrine reassured him, but Steve did not feel comfortable without at least some way to defend himself. He still had his own favorite iron sword and the enchanted diamond pickaxe "borrowed" to him by those players, but a few more would not hurt.
Steve had been almost content and ready to abandon his nervous excitement after the nerve-wracking events of this day, when without any thought in mind, simply thumbing for something within the chest out of curiosity, he felt a square object that strongly reminded him of a book. Sure enough, when he pulled out the object, he saw that it was a book.
The last several hours all he did was pull out books and look at them. It seemed that Herobrine had amassed an entire library in his personal storage. Steve suspected that they were "borrowed" titles, judging by the stamps on some covers, but figured that he had no right to judge the man. So far, Herobrine continued to prove far less evil that Steve originally believed him to be.
Him returning to rescue Steve from the hands of those not-so-valiant heroes, despite being nearly out of strength, had been a proof of that. Every time Steve thought of it sent a warm feeling through his heart.
Another smile appearing on his weary face, Steve glanced at the stacks of books that he had left out on the rustic table. He then looked up at the stacked shelves where more books resided upon towering shelves covered with cobwebs. Although those books looked real, their pages were blank – Steve already checked.
Steve rubbed his tired eyes a little. He must have been awake for hours now. It was hard to tell what time of the day it was, since this place lay so deep underground that Herobrine warned him to not attempt to make his way up – he would get hopelessly lost in the hundreds of similar looking labyrinths and rooms, with many of them bearing countless traps that Herobrine set to warn him of the coming of Players.
Getting up, Steve stretched, hearing his bones crack a little and paused as he listened. Nothing but silence surrounded him, growing oppressive the longer he paid attention to it. Despite the presence of a few silent mobs, whom he occasionally glimpsed far off, with Herobrine asleep for hours now, he began to feel more and more alone. Abandoned even.
"I don't come here often. But it is one of my safer strongholds if simply due to its great size." Herobrine told him shortly after they both arrived through the End Gate to another portal room, which Steve found very similar to the one Herobrine's servants created at his instructions.
They then teleported again, with help of Herobrine's two remaining servants that followed them through the gate. Herobrine walked with Steve to show him a few rooms and then paused by one of them, which he picked to rest in. There, once again starting to look weary as he swayed slightly on his feet, the one-armed man gave Steve his last instructions regarding his stay in his refuge.
"Be careful. Do not get lost. I know that you like exploring, but I strongly suggest that you avoid doing that for now. This entire place… It's a rare glitch in the game. Its an unusual place, which spawned in this world naturally. I did not make it. There are thousands of rooms, numerous End gates, some of which are already active and set to go to… other places far away. Do not go through any of them. Also, I made sure that all traps have been disabled at least a hundred blocks or so from this point, but there are many more beyond. It's an intimidating maze that even I have not bothered to map out fully. Its best if you stay put in the rooms I showed you. When I wake up, I will explain in more detail what is going on, so you can decide yourself what you wish to do."
Herobrine's last words carried guilt and warning and his gaze at Steve remained uncertain, as if he was not too sure about allowing Steve such freedom. His glance at one of the iron-barred cells almost made Steve imagine Herobrine simply confining him to one of the cell-like rooms, to keep him out of trouble. He hastily grinned to reassure his host.
"I'll wait." He promised with an easy smile. Herobrine considered him for another moment, before appearing to accept Steve's promise. He then hobbled into his chosen room, his head lowered and eyes drooping in exhaustion. And then a heavy iron door appeared, shutting Steve's view of him. Steve could only sigh at that. Despite spending several days in Steve's care, utterly helpless as he lay there unconscious, with Steve caring for his wounds, the man still could not fully trust him?
Steve left to explore the area nearby. He found a kitchen, several rooms that contained beds and simple chests with basic, random supplies. Out of curiosity, he checked, but remained unimpressed, compared to Herobrine's possessions. He also found this library with its convenient, soft chairs and couches.
Herobrine was still asleep. And this place was too quiet…
Steve cast another lost look around him and headed out of the small library into the hallway, where rough stone tiles lined the walls in a monotone way, stretching endlessly. Red-stone torches, which seemed to be Herobrine's personal preference, lit up brighter at Steve's approach, pushing back ominous shadows. This did little to dispel Steve's sense of being buried alive. Chased by his need to feel that this was not so, he walked past iron-gated rooms with empty guest-beds, past the great hall with a square stone fountain in its middle and pillars along the walls and turned into yet another hall that ended in a set of slab stairs leading down to another level. Just past two nearly identical rooms with barred entrances, his eyes held again on the heavy iron door of the room where he left Herobrine to rest.
Two skeletons stood there now. Both turned and held their empty eyes on Steve, while he froze in place. They didn't react to him in any way, and Steve remembered Herobrine's reassuring words that none of his sentries would harm him. Still, Steve suddenly lost the desire to go and check if Herobrine was still there. He obviously was, or else he would have found Steve already. He must still be asleep.
Steve looked past the skeletons to the end of the hall, where he could see more iron-barred rooms. He didn't approach. Instead, his shoulders slumping a bit as weariness began to press heavier upon his body and mind, he turned around and slowly shuffled back. Maybe he should go and get some rest also? Herobrine did warn that there would be a lot of things to do once he woke up.
Steve's eyes fell on the doorway of a room with a table, chairs, and stove, which seemed to have a slightly homelier touch. A fire merrily burned there beneath the oven and stacked logs rested on the side. An open ender chest already stood there also, with many utensils and pans pulled out, along with several cooked meals. Steve had already eaten dinner there, correctly identifying the place as a kitchen, but left the dirty plates where they were, not sure what to do with them. There were several strange, magical appliances in the room, but he didn't know how to operate them, and there seemed to be no buckets of water or any other water source to clean the dirty plates. Seeing the fresh loaves of bread left on the table along with a big jug of milk, Steve felt his stomach rumbling.
Maybe a small snack, then. Then, rest.
Steve went to the kitchen, stifling another yawn.