if you saw me post the wrong version, no u didn't
David plunked down against the wall across from the enderman, setting his bag down beside him with a grunt and digging through it for a canteen. "Here, Boo." He tossed it over, and the enderman looked down at it in bewilderment as it hit the ground at his feet. "Want some?"
"'Boo'?" Phillip echoed incredulously. "Why is he 'Boo'?"
"Because he snuck up on us." David crossed one leg over the other, watching as 'Boo' poked at the canteen with one slender claw. "Very effectively, I might add."
"Yes, but he's sapient," Phillip pointed out. "He probably has his own name. Isn't it sort of disrespectful to give him a new one?"
"Well we can't understand his name, so no," David countered. "He probably has his own stupid nicknames for us." Phillip frowned, but didn't argue further.
It hadn't taken them long to find an appropriate shelter in which to spend the night, just out of sight of the lava lake that housed Null's fortress. The newly christened Boo had seemed content enough to follow them there, apparently assured at this point of their good intentions. He had tried to speak with them a couple of times more, but upon realizing that nothing was getting through had gone quiet. Phillip wasn't sure what they were going to do from here- without a way to communicate, getting any information on what happened to Boo was going to be difficult.
"Here." Phillip scooped up the canteen, unscrewing the cap. "It's water, see?" He tipped a little bit out onto his hand, lifting it up to show him, only for Boo to scramble back against the wall, with a vicious, frightened hiss.
"Alright!" Phillip pulled it away hastily, screwing back on the cap and pushing it back over to David. "No water. Got it." Boo hissed again to drive home his point, then arranged his long limbs into a comfortable position.
David took a long drink of water, then sighed, sliding the canteen back into his bag. "We should sleep," he said. "I'll take first shift."
"Sure." Phillip glanced over to Boo, thoughtful. "I suppose he'll get the idea when he sees me go to sleep."
"If endermen even sleep," David muttered. "And assuming he's not getting ready to rip us to shreds as soon as we let our guard down."
"Oh, come on, Dave, he was scared." Phillip gestured to Boo, who glanced up quizzically. "He seems to be pleasant enough when he's not fighting for his life." David hummed.
"Yeah. I guess I might be a little ornery too if someone ripped my heart out."
Phillip unbuckled his sword belt and set it aside, finding the most comfortable spot in their little hollow and trying to relax. "Hey, Dave," he spoke up after a moment. "Do you think that is really what happened to him?"
"That he got his heart ripped out?" David chanced a look in his direction, towards where Boo was eying them through half-lidded eyes. "I dunno. Probably not. He's still breathing, after all."
"Right…" Phillip shifted to get a point of rock out of his spine, frowning. "He's obviously uncomfortable, so it can't be natural. But the potion did nothing to heal it."
"Right." David leaned back against the wall, peering out through the giant mushroom stalks in the direction of the lava lake. "Maybe it's too severe of a wound to heal."
"Mm." Phillip shut his eyes, mulling over all that they had encountered thus far. Strangers growing netherwart in the fortress, an injured enderman unable to teleport… given their proximity, it was unlikely that the two events were unrelated. But how were they connected? How did one strip an enderman of his ability to teleport, anyway?
One thing was for certain, and that was that they were getting no answers out of Boo. If they wanted to solve this, then they were going to have to return to that fortress.
Evangeline shut her eyes as she settled into the hot water, releasing a breath in a strained noise as her withered wing bumped the edge of the tub. It took her a moment to find a comfortable position, since her withered wing hurt to be submerged, and she was eventually forced to hook her wings over the edge of the bathtub and settle down as much as she could manage. At least the water was warm.
It was afternoon. At one point, Evangeline would have found taking a hot bath in the middle of the day to be the epitome of luxury, but today it was nothing more than a reminder of her condition. It wasn't cold outside, far from it, but no amount of layering had helped her to warm on her own, so she'd asked Herobrine to draw her a bath.
The door behind her creaked, and Evangeline's green eyes flickered up as Herobrine stepped into the room out of the corner of her eye.
"Here." He lowered himself to his knees beside the bathtub, revealing the steaming teacup in his hands. "Be careful, it's hot." Evangeline's hand lifted, breaking through the layer of thick foam over the water to wrap around the porcelain.
"Thank you," she murmured, clasping the warm cup in both hands and inhaling as fragrant steam wafted up towards her face. Herobrine hummed, sinking down to sit on the tile with his back to the tub.
Evangeline sipped at her tea, letting out a small sigh as the hot beverage sent warmth spreading throughout her chest. The water was hot enough that she could almost forget about the chill that followed her everywhere she went, and having Herobrine to watch her back assured her that no one would bother her while she soaked. After a minute, she shut her eyes.
She was dying.
For a valkyrie, to die would ordinarily be a quick, graceless affair, skewered on an opponent's blade or left to bleed out after a bloody battle. If they survived the initial conflict, the vast majority of valkyries were returned to good health, if perhaps missing a couple of limbs.
Valkyries did not get sick. They were unaffected by any of the diseases that brought down humans and piglins by the dozens, their bodies strong enough to resist any kind of infection. They did not slowly waste away, in their own home, surrounded by loved ones who could do nothing to save them.
Notch had assured them that they would find a solution. But how could he know? No one had ever survived being afflicted with wither before, not for so long as she had. They could force potions down her throat, feed her a bushel of golden apples, cut off her withered wing. Any one of those could cure her, or maybe none of them would. She didn't know. None of them did.
She didn't want to die. After Null, she had resigned herself to a quiet life, watching over the young valkyries, dining with Notch in his castle halls, and enjoying her marriage to Herobrine. Now, not even a year later, Null threatened to take all that away from beyond the grave.
Evangeline didn't realize that she was crying until a tear dripped off the tip of her nose, landing in her teacup with a soft plip.
She sniffled, trying to rub away her tears before Herobrine could notice, but she was already too late. "Eva?" He turned, and his face changed as he spied her reddened eyes. "Evangeline…"
"I'm alright," she choked out. "I'm fine. I-" Her throat closed up, and she squeezed her eyes shut again.
"Are you in pain?" Herobrine's large hand extracted the teacup from her own, and she gave a small shake of her head. "Just… afraid?" She hesitated, then gave a tiny nod. "Alright." Herobrine shifted, then leaned in and wrapped an arm around her chest.
Evangeline jerked, her eyes flying open in surprise. "What- you'll get wet-"
"I don't care," he interrupted, settling closer. Giving up, Evangeline wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.
She committed herself to keeping from breaking down, focusing on the rhythm of Herobrine's breaths in an attempt to calm her own. He was warm, and dry, though less so the longer she held onto him. His hand rested in the small of her back, below her wings, holding her to his chest.
"It's going to be alright," he mumbled. "We'll find a way to fix this." Evangeline drew in an uneven breath. She was sure that he needed the comfort as much as she did.
"Alright," she managed. "I know." Herobrine breathed out, tucking his arm around her waist. "I just-" her voice broke. "I didn't want this to happen."
"I know." Herobrine drew her closer, resting his other hand in the middle of her back. "I'm sorry." Evangeline just squeezed her eyes shut, tilting her face into his shoulder and locking her arms around his neck as she silently grieved.
"I have just received word back from my contacts in the Nether," Ashton stated, clutching his papers to his chest as he followed Notch down the corridor. "We should receive a shipment of potions within three days."
"Very good, Ashton, thank you," Notch murmured, only half listening. "You are dismissed." Ashton bowed, then ducked away, leaving Notch to complete the trek back to his chambers alone.
It was late. Notch had spent the day poring over records of severe injuries, searching for a treatment that they might have initially missed. He had found very little- an unfinished thought here, a reference to a lost document there. Nothing solid. Nothing they could use. Beyond cutting off her wing, if the potions failed to cure her then there was very little more that they could do.
Notch slipped in quietly through the door to his rooms, unbuckling his cape and lifting it from his shoulders to hang it on an ornate hook. He unbuttoned his outer jacket, shrugging it off and leaving him in the white dress shirt underneath. If one knew what to look for, they could see the black mark that bit deep into his side beneath the starched fabric. Notch knew more than anyone that once Null had gotten his claws into his prey, it would take more than potions and golden apples to force him to let go.
No sooner had he stepped towards the wardrobe, however, than Notch was alerted to a messenger's approach by the patter of hasty feet down the corridor that led up to his door.
Notch was at the door by the time the knock came, startling the young woman with the speed at which he responded. "Yes?"
"My lord." The valkyrie bowed low, her curly, red hair falling in front of her eyes. "I'm sorry to disturb, my lord, but I was told to fetch you at once. The Queen of the Nether has come to see you."
Notch's brow creased in concern. "Thank you very much, Maryanne," he said. "I will meet her in the parlor shortly." Maryanne bowed, and she turned on her heel and scurried away as Notch slid his arm back into his jacket.
Notch had feared the worst when he heard the news, but Queen Rosales' face was serene when he reached her in the parlor.
"Your majesty." Notch nodded to her as he approached, crossing the room to clasp her hand in his. "Good evening."
"To you as well, my lord." Trixtin squeezed his hand, giving him a small smile. "I'm sorry to call so late in the day. I lost track of the hours in the Aether."
"Please, don't mention it, I'm always pleased to see you." Notch studied her face carefully. "What brings you here? Your husband is not injured, is he?"
"No, no." Trixtin shook her head. "Nothing like that. Not to my knowledge, anyway. No, there was another matter that I wanted to speak to you about."
"Well, then, have a seat." Notch released her hand, gesturing to one of the sofas. Obediently, Trixtin selected a cushion, and Notch sank down in a chair opposite her.
"What is on your mind?" he asked her. Trixtin took a deep breath, then let it out.
"I'm ready to retire," she said. "I want to step down from my throne."