Chapter 44: Confrontation


He didn't tell the others that he was going to take a bit of time to search for Pickett again, but he wasn't exactly concerned about that at the moment. He had to do what he needed to do before he could put it off any longer.

Pickett hadn't been in the mines. It wasn't late enough in the day for him to have been at the meadery or the quick clinic either, so, to avoid an awkward conversion with either Selwyn or Alex about having to come back into the village once again, he simply guessed that the other miner wasn't in one of those places either. Steve, luckily enough, was able to locate him in the forest, following the sounds of what ended up being his distant training efforts as he swung his sword aimlessly around him.

Pickett was in a small clearing, holding his sword out with one, unsteady hand as he focused on an invisible set of enemies. A determined expression was on his face as he continued his swings, only remaining firm as he continued. He finally noticed that he was no longer alone when one of his attacks ended up turning him toward Steve. A look of surprise flashed across the man's face before it quickly fell into slight anger at the other's abrupt arrival.

With a small wave, Steve gave Pickett a slightly nervous smile.

"...Hey…" He greeted softly, waiting for the other's response as he kept his distance.

Pickett stared at him for a few seconds or so before turning away, continuing his solo sparing session with his back facing the other.

"...Hey." He greeted back.

"...So…you've picked up training?"

Pickett took a moment before nodding at his words.

"...I've been practicing hard, you know. I could head out tomorrow, if I wanted." Pickett stated, his voice firm.

Steve let the silence fill in between them for a moment or two before a sigh left his lips. He wasn't going to get through things easily, was he?

"...One night isn't going to make you invincible, Pickett. One night of swinging at nothing isn't gonna help either."

Pickett turned toward him abruptly.

"It could! You wouldn't know!"

Looking at Pickett with a worried expression, Steve glanced back down at the other's sword, which was still being held improperly by its un-trained wielder. It was an iron blade similar to his own, though its handle seemed to be made of stone and wrapped in leather compared to the iron handle of his sword. Curiosity struck him because of the difference in material, but before he could ask any questions, he shook himself out of his thoughts and instead directed his attention back up to Pickett.

"...I'm gonna ask you again, Pick. Please think about what you're doing. You're not ready, you're nowhere near ready, and…well…" Steve glanced off to the side with a bit of nervousness. "...I care about you too much to see you get hurt by all of this."

"Steve, I told you, I'm gonna do this, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Pickett pointed his sword at him for a minute or so, staring intently at the miner before slowly lowering his weapon as he looked away in deep thought. After a minute or so of silence, Pickett let out a sigh.

"...Look. If you're so worried about me, then…then you can just see for yourself how well I'm doing."

Steve raised a brow at him.

"What do you mean by that?"

Pickett looked up at him with a serious expression.

"I mean that you can fight me yourself to see how strong I am. If I'm up to your standards, then…well, then you can get off of my case!"

Somewhat surprised by the sudden suggestion, Steve crossed his arms in front of his chest with a reluctant expression.

Sure, Pickett had a good offer for him, but out of all the people he could possibly fight, the other miner had to have been the person he wanted to fight the least. He didn't want Pickett to go out into the world and get himself hurt, but above that, he didn't want to be the one who hurt Pickett either.

What would the consequences of saying yes to his suggestion even be? Sure, he had more of a chance of winning than Pickett did, but what if he slipped up? Could he even take that risk? If there was a chance to protect Pickett, should he take the risk?

Steve looked away from the other, his gaze somewhat troubled as he came to a decision.

"Pick. If…if I win, you'll give up your championship and back down. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Briefly looking at Steve with surprise in his eyes, a grin soon formed on Pickett's face as the other finished his response.

"If I win, you'll let me keep it, yeah? Of course I want to do this!"

As Pickett held his sword out toward Steve as a prompt for a challenge, Steve stared at the blade for a solid few seconds before letting out a sigh of defeat, drawing out his own slowly and holding it out toward the other in acceptance. Moving to hold the handle of his blade firmly with both hands, Steve got into a fighting position, looking at Pickett intently as he waited for him to make the first move.

It wasn't long before Pickett carefully began to draw near him, watching his movements for any sudden sign of attack before finally deciding to take the first swing. Within seconds, Steve quickly met the other's blade, fighting against it for only a brief second before managing to force the other miner to watch helplessly as he knocked the weapon out of his hands, sending it flying toward a nearby tree. Pickett turned back to look at Steve with a bit of shock in his expression before glancing back over to the sword. Immediately, Pickett rushed to go and grab it, not even looking back to see if Steve was following him. Not exactly sparking any confidence within Steve, the miner allowed the other miner to go and grab his blade, his concern for the other's safety only growing in response. He soon became aware of the fact that not only was Pickett's offense rather weak, but his sense of defense was as well.

Pickett was truly in danger of not only the outside mobs and other champions, but also himself.

As the other miner retrieved his sword, Steve got back into a defensive position, holding the handle of his blade a bit tighter as he waited for Pickett to focus on him again. Once Pickett turned to face him with a determined expression, Steve watched intently as Pickett's attention briefly fell to his hands as he gripped his blade properly. Not too long after, Pickett's empty hand slowly came to join the other hand that was already wrapped around the handle of his sword as he adjusted his stance to somewhat match Steve's. For a second, Steve found some relief that Pickett was finally in somewhat of a safer fighting position.

Pickett began to attack once again, swinging at Steve at a slower, yet much more steady pace. Reading the other's movements rather well due to the amount of time that was placed in-between each swing, Steve met the other's attacks with several, well-placed blocks that, with every quick moment of contact, made Pickett's grip more uneasy as he was unable to meet his strength adequately. Pickett may have had the bigger physical form, but Steve was able to outmatch the other completely in skill. The more blocks Steve was able to successfully perform, the more frantic Pickett slowly became, finding the prospect of him actually losing soon becoming a reality that he didn't want to face. His attacks soon began to speed up as his form got messier, leaving Steve with a bit less time to block in between each attack, though it wasn't exactly anything that he couldn't handle, in his opinion. Herobrine had certainly been faster, stronger, and more calculated than Pickett could ever hope to be, and Herobrine's attacks were even less uniform than his.

Frustration grew on Pickett's face as Steve remained calm and focused, reading Pickett intently as the other struggled to even remotely think about gaining some sort of edge on him. With a somewhat angered outcry, Pickett began to swing his blade completely wildly, briefly surprising Steve entirely as he jumped back in order to dodge the other's sudden rage.

"What the heck?! How'd you manage to block everything?!"

Steve kept himself in a steady, defensive position.

"Pick, like I said, you're not ready to go out there. It's too dangerous, and there are even more people out there who are stronger than me who'd go after you for fun." Steve said, his gaze becoming rather serious. "Just give up, and tell the Elder you changed your mind."

Pickett narrowed his gaze at him.

"No! We're not done yet, and you know that!" He said angrily, pointing at him directly.

"You can't actually beat me Pick. You know that." Steve responded, watching with a bit of disappointment in his eyes as Pickett got back into a fighting stance, using one hand to hold his sword for a second before quickly correcting himself and instead deciding to use two.

Pickett went to meet his blade again, leading to Steve letting out a sigh of slight annoyance as their fight continued. He soon found himself growing rather confused as Pickett abruptly moved to the side, swinging a bit widely again as he tried to catch up with his own two feet. Suddenly, Steve had to pivot in other to meet the other's change in approach, but he soon realized that he had been a bit late in realizing what the other was even doing as his blade met with his forearm instead of his sword.

He didn't expect Pickett to actually be able to land a hit on him, let alone manage such a deep cut.

Immediately, Steve pulled back as far as he could to examine the extent of damage upon his arm, briefly wincing as he stared down at the small ravine that had been etched into his flesh. As his body soon realized that it had been injured, the blood began to flow from the wound, trickling down the rest of his forearm as the cool winter air began to make it sting. Stunned that the other would've even gone so far in the first place, Steve briefly looked up at Pickett with a hurt gaze.

The second Pickett noticed his expression, he stopped his next attack. Worry suddenly rushed upon the other miner as he looked at Steve with clear guilt in his eyes.

"Stevie, you-!"

"-Pickett, it's fine." Steve said before he could even think about what he was saying, which only caused Pickett to panic more.

Pickett sheathed his sword, immediately moving toward the miner to check over his wounds.

Steve stepped back, causing Pickett to freeze in his tracks.

"...Steve?" Pickett asked quietly.

Only realizing how his reaction would've appeared to the other as he found Pickett's shock becoming verbal, Steve glanced off to the side, his eyes lidding in a somewhat blank manner.

"...It's always like this."

Worry soon melted away into quiet confusion as Pickett kept his gaze upon Steve, his eyes trailing down to the miner's injured arm.

"...What do you mean, Stevie?" Pickett asked, his voice hushed.

"...I get hurt, Pickett. I have to deal with the injures, and before they even heal, someone else just shows up and causes more." Steve explained, looking back at the other with a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Sometimes it's a monster, sometimes it's a person, but always, I get hurt like this, and it gets really, really bad."

Steve presented the injury to Pickett a bit closer, watching as he winced in response to some of his blood falling out to drip onto the ground beneath him.

"Do you really want some of these for yourself? You cut my arm, but other people might aim for something worse if you ever end up in a duel with somebody other than me!"

"I…I didn't mean to…" Pickett stammered out, unable to finish his sentence as his eyes shakily focused on Steve's bleeding arm, the miner's words flooding his brain.

Seeing that he was finally succeeding in getting through to the other, Steve continued on, despite the fact that the amount of blood that was flowing out of him was starting to fill him with worry.

"...See how easy it is? Do you finally get it, Pick? People like you swing swords at me all the time, and I barely know how to deal with it." Steve said with a forced smile, watching as Pickett looked at him with worried eyes.

"Steve-"

"-My hand was probably the only part of me that got the least amount of damage. Remember when I got hurt in the caves? Remember when you found me? Humans might just use swords and stuff like that, but that's nothing compared to what mobs can do, y'know. A cut like this hurts a lot, but think about what a creeper can do to you!" He exclaimed.

"Steve, we need to get you some bandages-"

"-No, Pick! Listen to me!" Steve began to yell, somewhat surprising even himself with his volume as his smile fell. "Since we're still fighting and all, we still haven't decided a winner! You haven't won, and I haven't either, your championship is still up in the air, here!"

Steve held his sword toward Pickett as another challenge, watching as a slight amount of horror filled the other's eyes.

"Champions don't quit, Pick. It's life or death for us out there. We don't get to decide to stop until something finally comes around and kills us. A cut won't stop somebody from attacking you; in fact, it only encourages people to keep swinging until they manage to turn it into something fatal!"

Pickett stepped away from him, refusing the challenge outright.

"No. I'm not gonna hurt you again, Steve."

"You mean that you forfeit the match? You're not gonna be a champion?"

Pickett's gaze suddenly became flooded with conflict, causing him to look away in deep thought as Steve's words suddenly struck him. He only turned back after a few seconds to look at Steve with a bit of pain in his eyes.

"H-hey, that's not fair! I feel bad about hurting you, but I don't…I don't want to-"

"-That's what we agreed to, remember Pick? Either we keep fighting until one of us actually wins, or you give it up now. Your call, honestly."

Pickett went back into thought once again, a tsk leaving his lips as he found himself faced with a tough decision once again, leaving Steve patiently waiting for a proper answer.

He hoped that his outburst would influence Pickett to give up. Though his blood loss would've surely given the other an advantage if he chose to continue, he hoped that his over-exaggeration appealed to the other's sense of pity.

...

Slowly, saddened green eyes met with strained pinkish-violet ones as Pickett slowly raised his hands up, causing Steve's stance to falter as he watched the other.

"...I…I give up. I yield, or whatever they usually say." Pickett said quietly, his gaze falling to Steve's arm once again, guilt clear in his expression. "...I'll tell the Elder that I give up. I'm too weak to go out there right now."

With relief flooding his system, Steve slowly went to sheath his sword, briefly freezing up in pain as he moved his arm too abruptly to the side in order to do so. Pickett went to rush up to him, but, once again, Steve backed away.

Hurt, Pickett reached out to Steve.

"I only want to help, Steve!"

Steve looked at him with a somewhat tired gaze.

"...I'll deal with it myself. You…you go and take care of yourself back in the village. Go tell the Elder as soon as possible about your decision."

Moving to hold his arm tightly in an attempt to stop the continued bleeding, Steve looked back to the forest behind him, more exhaustion slowly creeping upon him as he began to worry about his trip back to his house. Would he make it back before possibly passing out? He was a divine, sure, but he still felt human in the sense that his injuries weren't just anything to simply shrug off.

"...I'll take care of myself alone. It'll be fine, Pick."

Pickett's outstretched hand slightly fell as Steve's words reached his ears, his eyes watching the miner weakly as Steve began to walk away.

"...Stevie, I didn't mean to hurt you that badly."

Steve paused in his departure. Keeping his back turned as he stared at the forest ahead of him.

"...That badly, huh?"

"Wait, Steve, I didn't mean-" Pickett quickly went to correct.

"-Of course you didn't."

Steve interrupted him, leaving the other in tense silence as he began to leave once again. Before he got out of earshot, however, he spoke to the other.

"...Just go and quit, Pickett. Work on your sword arm while you're at it, too."

With a somewhat frustrated tone in his voice, Steve finally escaped into the darkness of the forest, leaving Pickett somewhat stunned by his words. He had to keep walking, or else he'd break down in front of the other, and he didn't know how he'd respond from that point on.

Pickett had hurt him. One of his closest friends had actually cut him with a sword in an attempt to chase after the false dream of becoming a champion.

...

He'd only wanted to protect Pickett, but Pickett only hurt him in response.


Steve barely made it to his house before his body began to realize that it had just been involved in a fight once again.

After closing the door behind him, Steve found his exhaustion fully catching up with him as he slowly slid down the surface of the door, a long sigh escaping his lips as he made contact with the ground. He was growing a little dizzy with the blood loss he sustained, but that was an issue he'd have to deal with later.

Pickett wasn't going to be a champion. He was free to remain in the village and not venture out. That was all that mattered.

Relieved that he finally managed to break through to the other, Steve slowly opened his eyes to examine the comforting appearance of his abode, slowly coming to the realization that his face was somewhat sticky with the remnants of frustrated tears. He hadn't even realized that he'd started crying at one point, not even remembering the moment that the tears had started falling.

He did, however, suddenly remember the fact that his house wasn't exactly empty. He was met with the concerned expression of Herobrine as he slowly looked up to find him standing in front of him.

Briefly glancing around to examine the room, Steve found himself strangely alone with his sibling.

"...W...Where are the others?" Steve asked quietly, watching the other as he waited for an answer.

"...I sent them to retrieve their forces and loosen the security on this village so that they can send them elsewhere in preparation for our eventual departure. Andvari's monitoring things properly to make sure we can leave the village safely." Herobrine explained briefly. "...What happened to you?"

Just before Steve could muster up the courage to explain what had happened to him, Herobrine's gaze fell to look upon his bloody arm, concern suddenly becoming mixed with anger as he slowly realized that the wound was even present. The other quickly rushed to crouch down and grab his arm, though he was gentle as he pulled it closer in order to examine it properly.

Herobrine met Steve's gaze with a serious expression upon his face.

"Who inflicted this upon you?" He asked firmly.

Nervous about the other's potential response, Steve laughed nervously as he broke eye contact in order to stare at the ground beside him.

"I…uh, screwed up. Yeah. I fell and cut myself on a branch-"

"-Do not even attempt to lie to me. This wound is too clean to have come from a mere tree branch, Steven. Who attacked you, and why?"

With a sigh of defeat, Steve looked at the other once again.

"Look, before you do or say anything, I just want you to know that it wasn't intentional. I…he didn't mean to land a hit, and I didn't mean to let my guard up, but things happened, an-"

"-Who didn't mean to land a hit?" Herobrine asked, his tone a bit more forceful as he demanded an answer.

"I was getting to that! I…listen, I found my friend Pickett again, and I tried talking to him about giving up on being a champion. He wouldn't agree to it unless we had a duel, so I fought him. For your information, I won, and we won't have to deal with him being out in the wild." Steve hastily explained, watching as Herobrine's gaze became a bit less intense than before.

"...You fixed the issue?"

Steve nodded.

"Pickett's gonna back off."

Herobrine stared at him for a moment, then at his injured arm, before slowly nodding in response, pulling away as Steve out a quiet sigh of relief at the space that had formed in between them.

Closing his eyes as he went to relax and fight off the dizziness he was feeling, Steve loosely focused his attention on the sound of Herobrine's boots moving across the wooden floor, finding himself curious about where he was going, but not curious enough to actually open his eyes in order to see.

"...Your healing abilities are still rather juvenile, given your late development, I guess. We still need to be careful, Steven." Herobrine said.

Confused about the other's words, Steve, regardless, let out a small agreeing hum as he continued to listen to the other move around his house, now finding the sounds of storage chests being opened and stuff being searched through joining the other's sharp footsteps. The collective noise persisted as it traveled around the room, leading to Steve weakly opening his eyes to actually try and figure out what his brother was doing.

He didn't even realize that Herobrine was even trying to assist him until he heard the other rummaging through his bag, digging rather deep until he was finally able to pull out some of his remaining bandages. Before long, Herobrine had returned to him, immediately getting to work on tending to his wound.

Steve looked at him curiously, watching as he barely cleaned his bleeding forearm with a small cloth rag he'd found before beginning to wrap the first section of bandages around his injury.

"...Doesn't that need to be, uh…cleaned more, first?" He asked quietly, glancing upward in an attempt to meet the other's gaze.

Herobrine continued to focus his attention downward.

"A little blood sticking to the bandages won't hurt you."

"I meant the actual cut, Brine. Won't that still get infected, or something like that?"

Herobrine shook his head.

"...A divine's body can heal well on its own, pushing off even infection. Potions help, but our bodies are capable of rapid regeneration. That much, at least, you should be aware of for the next time you find yourself concerned about an injury."

Steve let out a small hum.

"...Yeah, but a potion would be nice, yeah? A bit of extra security?"

Herobrine looked up at him curiously.

"...What for? You weren't attacked with a blessed blade, were you?"

Steve shook his head.

"No! I...I'm just used to these kinds of wounds being uh...serious. It'd be nice to treat them that way, you know?"

Herobrine thought over his words for a moment, trying to make sense of them before he directed his gaze back downward.

"...You wish to be treated as if you were still just a mortal?"

With a bit of embarrassment, Steve slowly nodded.

"...It's what I'm comfortable with. Besides, if I get used to the opposite, what will people think?"

Herobrine let out a small hum.

"...I suppose you have a point."

Herobrine stared at the wound intently for a second before sighing deeply, glancing up to meet Steve's eyes with a neutral expression on his face.

"Do you have any potions in this house? I couldn't find any."

Steve shrugged.

"I have a potion cabinet, actually."

Herobrine looked at him with disbelief.

"You what."

Steve was confused about his reaction before embarrassment soon came to his features.

Here he was in possession of a potion cabinet that, to his credit, wasn't exactly full, but it wasn't exactly empty either. He had some healing potions on hand for minor injuries, none of which he'd even thought about bringing with him on his journey despite the risk he'd take without having them.

Who'd been less prepared to go on an adventure, him or Pickett?

"...In my defense…I thought I was gonna die on the first day, anyways." He quietly spoke, avoiding Herobrine's gaze as his face flushed heavily. "...I…I was upset about being chosen, and…it didn't…it didn't cross my mind, to uh…to take…any."

He could practically feel the other's eyes as they settled upon him, but for his own sanity, he didn't look. The longer Herobrine left him in stunned silence, the more he wished that he had, in fact, died on his first day outside his village.

When Herobrine finally broke the silence, Steve flinched.

"...Where is it, then?"

Herobrine's voice was soft, but it was evident that the other was a bit disappointed in him. Pointing off to the hallway, Steve kept his eyes focused away from him.

"...In my room. Can't miss it."

"...You apparently did."

With a whine of sheer embarrassment, Steve hit his head against the door he was resting upon as Herobrine went to retrieve one of his potions, looking at his sibling with a bit of amusement as he left his side. He soon returned with a half-empty healing potion, swishing it around in the bottle a bit as he examined its contents carefully.

"...You know, I was going to get more on your case about this, but your collection is, indeed, rather pathetic. When was the last time you went out to purchase potions?"

Steve shrugged at his question, somewhat relieved at the fact that Herobrine wouldn't tease him about the situation that much more.

"...I don't know. It's been a while, though."

"...Man-made potions using Overworldian ingredients don't remain all that potent for long, unlike their Nethren counterparts. This one might even be stale, and it's the most potent one you seem to even own."

Crouching down to sit by Steve once again, Herobrine uncorked the bottle and began to pour it over Steve's wound, briefly pausing as the miner flinched at the pain that was caused.

"...It wouldn't even matter if you brought them or not. They wouldn't assist all that much, anyway. See for yourself."

Steve did as the other said, looking down at his arm as he bit his tongue in response to the stinging pain he was currently feeling.

His injury didn't feel that brief twinge of freshness and relief that usually came with decent healing potions. All that he could feel was a burning pain that only made his dizziness somewhat worse, though he felt more comforted by the fact that the stale potion was at least cleaning out some of the remaining blood that had begun to pool. As fluids fell upon his floor, Steve watched as Herobrine finished up the rest of the bottle, placing it to his side before moving to dry the wound again with his cleaning rag. Resuming his attempt to wrap the bandages, the other left Steve in silence as he worked cautiously.

Once Herobrine was done, he stood back up and stepped back a bit, watching as Steve examined himself before sending him a weak, appreciative smile.

"...Thanks for that." Steve said, earning a small hum from Herobrine in response.

Silence returned as Herobrine looked at Steve's face for a moment, watching as the miner's smile faded away as he went to stare at his bandaged arm. It didn't take a genius to figure out that, certainly, Steve was conflicted with his emotions.

"...You're relatively upset by this, aren't you?...This whole situation, I mean."

Herobrine's quiet words drew a small nod from him. Steve looked up to meet the other's gaze with a worried expression.

"...I was still kinda mean to Pickett when I talked to him."

Herobrine crossed his arms in front of his chest, giving him a shrug.

"...So? He was convinced to stop his foolish actions, yes?"

Steve's expression grew somewhat saddened.

"...He…I'm his friend, and…I was a bit…well, too much when I talked to him. He…he looked scared."

"...But you succeeded."

"But I think I hurt our friendship, Brine! No friend talks to their friend like I spoke to Pickett, and I was really, really mean. I thought that I could keep it down, but I didn't!"

Herobrine narrowed his gaze at Steve.

"He inflicted a deep wound upon you, that's enough cause for harsh words alone."

Steve went to brush his fingers against the surface of his bandages, thinking over the other's words for a brief moment before sighing with a bit of frustration.

"...That's not an excuse, though. I scared him. He's gonna remember that for a while, and…I don't think he's gonna be too friendly with me after he realizes how badly I treated him, again."

Steve's eyes closed as he hung his head and slouched his shoulders, finding himself on the brink of added tears on top of his already-present tiredness.

Unbeknownst to him, Herobrine was still staring at him, his expression almost unreadable as he examined the miner's current state.

Normally, he didn't wish to become involved in such trivial matters. Two humans arguing and struggling to communicate was just another non-issue for him; one that didn't need his input or opinion whatsoever, as he could honestly care less about the situation.

This was different, however.

A human was currently in a conflict with another divine being who was simply masquerading, in a sense, as another human. A being that shouldn't even consider the other as someone on the same level of importance, was, unfortunately, giving him the upper hand by allowing the other to make him feel poorly about being attacked and reacting accordingly in response. A divine being who was, in fact, his sibling was being mistreated and disrespected by a mere, meaningless mortal. Steve had been pushed into a corner, and he wasn't giving himself the chance to realize that he did what he had to do in order to get things done.

Seeing Steve's defeated expression, seeing his own unneeded concern making him unnecessarily sick, it all struck a chord within him that he couldn't exactly explain in words. All he knew was that seeing Steve like this made him rather ill himself, which was certainly something rather new. He certainly didn't know how to approach the situation, but regardless of that fact, he wanted to help Steve.

…Help. He wanted to help.

Herobrine's eyes slightly widened in shock at his own thought process, leaving him somewhat stunned at the fact that the idea had even come across him in the first place.

He wasn't used to dealing with humans in such a way that didn't result in injury or death. He wasn't used to speaking with humans carefully and with respect. He wasn't used to interacting with humans in a way that would actually help Steve out instead of throwing him into more distress, and yet, he still wanted to help him deal with the emotions brought on by his so-called "friend."

…Why?

Maybe he just wanted to get things over with. Maybe he just wanted to move on and get out of Steve's village before anyone could realize that they were all there along with the miner.

Maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to see Steve being upset by such things. It was slowly becoming a pattern, and he didn't exactly know how to properly process that idea, but he felt that way, nonetheless.

"...This…this is just temporary, Steven."

It took Steve a moment to even realize that the other had even spoken, but once he did, he looked up at Herobrine in somewhat of a confused manner.

"...W-what?" He asked quietly.

Herobrine stared at him.

"Even if your friendship has been weakened, it's only for a temporary amount of time. Humans have a finite amount of time in this world, and thus, they work hard to make sure that momentary disputes don't develop into lifelong grudges. At least, the more behaved ones do. You'll repair any damage that was done, soon enough. If not you, then he will surely make the attempt."

Watching the miner's reaction intently to see how his words came across, Herobrine soon found himself growing surprisingly nervous to see how Steve would respond.

Thankfully enough, a small smile grew upon Steve's face.

"...You think so?"

Herobrine shrugged at him.

"...Humans are nothing if not predictable."

Somewhat amused by his response, Steve let out a small chuckle at the other's words.

"...I'll take that as a yes. Thanks."

"...Of course."

Deciding to stand up, Steve briefly felt a wave of nausea come across him as he pushed himself up, though he thankfully didn't stumble and fell back to the ground. As he got back up on his own two feet, Herobrine turned away from him, moving to walk more toward his dining table as he uncrossed his arms and instead folded them behind his back.

"Now that that's out of the way...were you able to find any blaze powder?"

Steve shook his head with disappointment.

"...Selwyn didn't have any."

Herobrine nodded slowly in response.

"...We'll have to venture to the Nether once again for sure, then. Just to let you know, we'll be heading out soon, so I hope you have most of your things in order."

Steve looked at Herobrine with a bit of a surprised expression as he looked over his bandages once again.

"Uh…how soon?"

"...You'll be saying goodbye to your friends again, correct?"

"...Yeah."

"Then after you finish with that. Our next objective is to go searching for an End portal using whatever we have." Herobrine paused, thinking to himself quietly before continuing. "...Did your friend say anything about how to actually locate one?"

Steve thought back on his memories, trying to go over the information he was given carefully so that he could actually answer the other. He found himself a bit stumped, however.

"...I mean, if it helps, Al said something about the attuned pearls being able to react to portals. The presence of portals, actually."

Herobrine turned and examined Steve for a second, thinking over his words carefully.

"...They…they react to the presence of a portal? Similar to your eyes?"

Steve shrugged.

"I…I guess? That's what Al said."

Herobrine went to look toward the front door of the house intently for a moment, leaving Steve in silence before his gaze slightly fell to the ground.

"...Do you believe that it's worth it to attune a pearl first, after all?"

"...What?" Steve asked in slight disbelief.

"...What if your eyes aren't all that effective when it comes to an End portal instead of a Netheren one? What if we need extra assistance when it comes to finding that portal? Would you think that it would be more beneficial if we had an attuned pearl in our possession?"

Steve looked at the other intently, growing realization appearing on his face the longer he thought about his words.

"...You want…you want to get the powder now?"

Herobrine narrowed his gaze at him.

"We were gifted with a couple of pearls not too long ago. If we have at least one of them properly attuned, we can do this."

Herobrine's serious gaze turned into one of slight expectation.

"Do you agree with my suggestion?"

Staring at Herobrine for a bit longer than he had intended to, Steve gave him a small hum as he lowered his gaze to the ground.

"...I…I guess? I…my eyes could be enough, but…"

"...We don't know for sure. There's a chance that the pearls, being from the endermen, would react more to a portal's existence. We need to investigate, and a quick trip to the Nether might be more beneficial than we realize."

"But...there isn't a portal around here anymore? Besides, even if there was one, don't Constiere and Malgun need to be ready for the place? We can't just go rushing in there, can we?"

Herobrine turned his gaze toward the ground with a somewhat troubled expression.

"...We can scout ahead before they choose to enter the realm. In terms of finding a portal, however…I believe that our options there are looking rather…grim."

Disappointment appeared on Steve's face for a brief moment before realization came to him abruptly.

"...We destroyed the ones we actually knew about."

"...We'll have to search for another." Herobrine added.

Steve thought quietly before another idea came to him.

"Wait, do you think that maybe…we can uh…maybe think about the one you destroyed here? In the mines? Like, can we repair it?"

Herobrine glanced back to him, shaking his head.

"The damage I inflicted upon that portal is absolute. It would ages to re-purify the obsidian used in its creation, and we'd end up needing to search for new obsidian entirely."

"...Then uh…how about the portal back in…um, Litefall, maybe?" Steve suggested. "You didn't break that one. Maybe it leads somewhere actually nice?"

"Too risky, Steven. Our search would last long enough for humans to accidentally stumble upon the activated frame, and that would end in more tragedy than what death alone could bring. Not only that, but might I remind you that Minos is there?"

"He's nice, though!" Steve defended.

"He might be accompanied by someone else, and they might not exactly share his sentiments. It's best to stay clear of him and that blinding city, for now."

The two were left to ponder a solution in silence once again. Steve found himself thinking intently before suddenly, another idea slowly dawned on him.

"...Mo." Steve said in almost a whisper, his eyes lighting up in realization. "...He can make us a portal, can't he?"

Herobrine tensed up at the sound of the other's name, causing Steve to feel slightly guilty about bringing him up.

He didn't know how to feel about seeing Mo again quite yet, but Herobrine definitely had some ideas. Herobrine's gaze fell the longer he thought about meeting so soon again with the older divine, leading him to find it somewhat difficult to actually force himself to speak.

"...I suppose you're correct. Mojang…he's able to build them with relative ease; what, with the ability to create obsidian at the tips of his fingers, and all."

Silence filled the area between them, remaining for a few solid seconds before Herobrine let out a small sigh of defeat.

"...I'll call him forth, if he's still around. Our mission would benefit from this greatly, and I can't take the risk of us being held up for even longer."

"...Are you sure you want to? I mean, we could just-"

"-It's just one favor. He owes us that much, doesn't he?" Herobrine snapped back, causing Steve to briefly flinch at his abruptness before slowly nodding his head in agreement.

"...Yeah. I mean…" Steve trailed off, leaving Herobrine in silence.

He had a feeling that Mo would agree to help them if they could reach him again. He personally wasn't looking forward to the awkward conversation that would come, but regardless, they needed him at the moment.

They needed to go to the Nether. They were taking a few chances with figuring out how to locate the End portal, but this was a shot they were willing to take.


I wrote this chapter out twice, y'all. T_T I didn't know how I wanted to tackle this second confrontation! I was not planning on staying with this plot point for long, but I'm finally happy to be done with it. It hit me with writer's block like a brick to the face lmao XD

Talking about the first little draft of this fic again, this whole arc, concerning Pickett, was initially supposed to be a lot…well, darker. In the original narrative, Pickett was going to be more of a villainous character. Not villainous in a "constantly going after the gang" sort of way, but he intentionally caused some serious emotional damage to Steve that made it near-impossible to confront him directly. I changed that entire plot mostly bc I wanted the two to become friends again, and having that original information in the story would've totally prevented any sort of relationship rebuilding whatsoever. It also would've hit y'all with a tone-shift out of left-field, and it didn't fit the vibes of the fic period lol. Had to write a whole section out before I just went ahead and started writing the entire chapter over again haha.

Had to momentarily sacrifice a favorite scene of mine tho T_T. I'll figure out a way to bring it back lmao

Anyways, fun facts!

1.) On the topic of first narrative drafts, Herobrine was initially going to confront Pickett in Steve's place, but that would've required the original villainous nature that I had in mind for Pick, lol.

2.) In case you were wondering just how much bigger Pickett is than Steve, Pickett's a solid 6'5, and he's pretty built, lmao. Steve's considerably slimmer than he is, especially in terms of physical muscle.

3.) Steve is definitely taking some notes on how Herobrine acts with other people in order to get them to listen. It's unintentional, but he puts what he unconsciously learned to use!

On a side note, I've begun working on a side fic for this story, called "I'd Be Remiss." It goes over the events of how Andvari met Herobrine and all that, so…yeah! It's the other fic I was talking about a few chapters back, lol. It will be updating pretty sporadically, so I don't believe there will be a consistent upload schedule for that one for a while. Check it out though, if you're interested!

See y'all later!