The mist clung to the valley, thick and oppressive, its cold fingers seeping through Ki's clothes, sinking into her skin. She pushed through the damp undergrowth, her steps heavy and deliberate as the steady patter of rain drowned out the usual sounds of the forest. Every droplet that hit the leaves fell in a rhythm too perfect, too measured, as though the world had fallen into a restless slumber, waiting for something unseen to stir.
Ki's sword rested at her side, the hilt cold and slick against her palm. The iron pickaxe slung over her shoulder felt heavier with every step, a familiar weight but burdensome with the day's work still ahead. She had been moving for hours, the rain sapping her strength as it soaked through her clothes, chilling her to the bone. The land stretched out before her in a blur of gray and green—endless flat plains offering no shelter, no protection from the night that was creeping closer with every passing minute.
Her mismatched eyes scanned the horizon, seeking, almost pleading, for something that might break the monotony of the rain. Her muscles ached, the cold gnawing at her bones as the dampness soaked through every layer of clothing. She quickened her pace, boots sinking into the mud with a soft squelch. Ahead, a small rise of hills caught her attention. It wasn't much, but maybe, just maybe, she could carve out a temporary shelter there—something to keep the worst of the night's dangers at bay.
"There's no time to find a perfect spot," Ki muttered, her voice barely a whisper, nearly swallowed by the constant hiss of rain. She glanced over her shoulder, her breath hitching as though she expected to see the mist creeping closer, closing in on her. But there was nothing. Just the steady curtain of rain, falling relentlessly, as if the world itself was trying to wash everything away.
As Ki reached the base of the hill, the mist thickened, swirling around her legs like ghostly tendrils that clung to her with every step. She drew in a sharp breath, forcing herself to focus. Her hands gripped the iron pickaxe as she began digging into the earth. The soil crumbled easily beneath her strikes, and soon, she had hollowed out a small space—just enough to crouch inside. Quickly, she blocked the entrance with dirt and lit a torch. The flame flickered weakly, casting long, trembling shadows on the damp walls, but the warmth was a welcome relief against the cold, unforgiving night.
Outside, night descended like a weight, pulling the world into its grip. Distant moans echoed through the valley, mingling with the familiar rattle of bones as creatures stirred in the darkness. Ki's grip tightened on her sword. She had heard the stories of what lurked out there—things far worse than the undead. But tonight, her shelter, small and imperfect as it was, would have to be enough. For now.
The rain still hadn't let up by morning, but Ki couldn't wait. She gathered her supplies and stepped out into the cold drizzle, her boots sinking deeper into the mud with each step. The air was thick with moisture, turning the world into a haze of gray and green. Her breath escaped in steady clouds of mist as she trudged forward, her mismatched eyes scanning the endless horizon. She needed something more—a place she could call home, something more permanent than the temporary shelters she'd been making.
The valley stretched before her, a blur of muted colors, the rain blurring the edges of everything. She had grown accustomed to the silence, to the emptiness, but today it felt different. Heavier. More oppressive. As if the mist itself held secrets, lurking just beneath the surface, refusing to reveal themselves.
Her sword was a constant weight at her side, a small comfort against the gnawing sense of unease that had settled in her chest. She kept moving, pushing through the wet grass, but no matter how hard she tried to shake it, the feeling that something was watching her clung to her thoughts, like a shadow she couldn't escape.
By midday, Ki reached a ridge, her breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as she climbed to the top. The rain pounded down in relentless sheets, soaking through her clothes and plastering her hair to her skin. But when she crested the ridge, the sight below stopped her in her tracks. A wide valley stretched out beneath her, cradled by low mountain ranges. A shimmering river wound its way through the valley floor, glistening despite the rain, before feeding into a tranquil lake. Tall, ancient trees flanked the riverbanks, their branches swaying in the rain, while wildflowers dotted the grassy plains in bursts of color. For the first time in days, Ki felt a flicker of hope.
The mist still swirled lazily in the distance, curling like a living thing. But for the first time in what felt like days, Ki felt a sense of peace settling into her bones.
As Ki descended into the valley, the rain eased into a soft drizzle, its steady rhythm no longer quite as oppressive. She moved with newfound purpose, scanning the landscape for the right materials. The tall spruce trees along the river's edge caught her eye—their dark, rich wood would make a strong, solid frame.
She gripped her axe and swung it with practiced precision into the nearest tree. The wood splintered beneath each strike, and soon she had enough logs to begin construction. As she worked, her mind drifted to the different possibilities—the combination of spruce and birch, the way the dark wood could contrast with the pale birch she had seen growing further along the riverbank. The thought brought a faint smile to her lips.
The rain had lessened to a gentle mist, and Ki found herself imagining the home she could build here. The land was perfect—water, trees, and plenty of space to create something lasting. As she gathered more wood, she felt the beginnings of something stir within her. Hope.
But as she worked, the mist thickened again, swirling around her in lazy tendrils. The unease she had felt earlier returned, stronger now, gnawing at the back of her mind. She glanced toward the trees, her instincts prickling with the sensation of being watched. She tried to shake it off, focusing on the rhythm of her work, but the feeling clung to her like the damp mist that refused to lift.
By the time Ki finished the frame of her house, the rain had returned, heavier and colder than before. Her home—small, modest, but sturdy—began to take shape under her hands. The spruce logs formed the walls, while the pale birch planks added brightness to the windows and doors. The dark wood and light accents combined in a way that felt both strong and beautiful, just as she had envisioned.
But as she stood back to admire her work, the mist seemed to close in around her, denser than it had been before. A chill crawled up her spine, and her fingers instinctively wrapped around the hilt of her sword.
Herobrine.
The name whispered through her mind, sending a jolt of fear coursing through her veins. She hadn't seen him, hadn't heard him, but she could feel it—his presence lurking in the shadows, watching her from somewhere out in the mist.
Ki forced herself to take a slow, steady breath, her heartbeat thudding loudly in her ears. There was still work to be done, and she couldn't let old stories distract her now. But no matter how hard she tried to focus, the unease never left. It followed her, gnawing at her every movement, a reminder that she was never truly alone.
As the light faded and the rain poured harder, Ki worked faster, fitting the last planks into place just before nightfall. The roof went up, imperfect but functional, and she ducked inside, closing the door behind her. The rain drummed against the roof, a steady beat that drowned out the silence beyond.
But even as she sat with her back to the wall, her mismatched eyes watching the window, the mist outside swirled, thick and impenetrable.
Her fingers never left the hilt of her sword.
A/N: Yes, birch wood. I know. Please read and drop me a review, I'd love to hear your thoughts.
A/N2: This is the revised Chapter 2. I know it is shorter, but I feel the pacing is much better overall.
A/N3: And the revised revision.