Young Writers Society

Brinley hesitated. "So... we're related?"

The Hooded figure nodded, albeit confusedly.

Brinley smiled appreciatively. "Cool." She suddenly remembered that they were discussing the fate of the world, and got back on the suggest. "Erm... yes, I'll join you. On one condition. It's a bit steep, but I wouldn't ask for it if it weren't completely necessary." She let out a high pitched whistle, and the sound of toenails scratching at the ground sounded. A dog bounded into the cottage. "I have to bring my dog, Molly."

It always takes a long time to get my horse tacked up. He’s stubborn and touchy about the saddle. His name is Pony. Don’t be mistaken: he’s not a pony. He’s fifteen hands high. It’s taken me almost an hour to get the bridle and the saddle. I lead him stiffly to the mounting block by the house, patting his neck to persuade him that standing still isn’t such a bad thing.

Our house is a lovely place. It’s made of spruce wood and cobblestone and surrounded by fenced fields of first class horses and spruce trees we bought with us as saplings. A stable-block stands alone on the edge of our land. Beyond that is grassland, and then some damnable city. We’ve lived here for seven years. It’s not bad for somewhere so near to a city, I suppose.

I pull myself up into the saddle as Pony shifts uneasily, taking a few faltering steps forward. I kick his flanks, gently, of course, and we canter past the fields of horses. The more excitable individuals gallop alongside us, snorting and whinnying and spurring Pony faster.

Something barks. Pony’s ears flick back. Brilliant. Of course. Ted, barking his face off, comes speeding down the dirt and starts to run alongside us. Pony shies away from him ever so slightly. Ted is my dog. He’s only mine because my parents disowned him - his temper is worse then mine. He can be cute and affectionate. Can be.

I pull softly on the reins, easing Pony to a halt by our gate. I’d already told my parents I’d be going. They’re busy, like always. They spend their days training up the horses, readying them for sale, and tending to the tiny patch of crops by the stables. I usually spend the days riding Pony. Sometimes I can’t get rid of Ted, so he comes along too. I fear that this could be one of these times.

I lean over to my side to try to persuade Ted to stay behind, when his ears perk up and he starts to bark, shoving his head through the space between the slats of wood on the gate. I sigh. It's probably only a deer or a cow, perhaps a stray dog. It'll take a while to calm him down.

My life returned to normal not long after the visitor, and sometimes I wished I’d joined just to avoid this monotony. Whilst most of me loved the quiet farm life; some of me couldn’t help but long for something more… Adventurous. When I’d settled back into my usual patterns again- the adventurous part of my mind had been subdued.

Wake, farm, sell, bake, sleep, repeat. Wake, farm, sell, bake, sleep, repeat.
Wake, farm, sell, bake, sleep, repeat. Every single day was exactly the same plus or minus a few monsters and a run-in with a rude customer. Everything was as it always was.

Until the protests started. Rumors had followed the new family into our village- whispers conveyed over warm dinners which were soon left deserted and cold. Notch was the bad guy. Notch was going to lead them all to destruction. These mutterings all seemed painfully exaggerated- I ignored them for the most part. However; the villagers seemed to believe it, and soon enough two of our men had begun the trip to Mineplex in order to protest.

...Everything went downhill from there.

They never returned. Instead- Notch’s soldiers flowed into Andestine, throwing torches on the roofs of houses- setting the oak on fire. I heard the screaming all the way from my farm, and rode as fast as Starchaser could carry me. I heard the little girl- Annalee was her name, I read to her in the library on occasion- screaming. Her home was in flames! I leaped from the side of Starchaser and charged at the house. The soldiers grabbed me before I could get there.

“No!” I screamed. “She’ll die! She’s just a child!” my yells fell upon deaf ears. I leaped for the house, punching, kicking, biting anyone who tried to get in my way. It took eight men to hold me down, and before long they stopped trying to tie my hands and simply resorted to hitting me in the head with the blunt side of the sword, effectively rendering me unconscious.

***

I woke up in my own basement, tied with my own horse leashes and gagged with a rabbit skin. Quite a bit of my own skin on my left side seemed to have been chaffed off- probably from being dragged behind Starchaser as they brought me back here. After all- who wanted to expend energy carrying me when there was a perfectly good horse around? Then again- why was I still even alive? Why hadn’t they just killed me? Why go to the trouble? Well, the point was that I was still alive, and now I had to make the best of it.

First thing first- I needed to get out of these restraints. These soldiers had made the mistake that most people did when tying someone up- they used a long stretch of rope and knotted it only at the beginning and end. Each inch of rope would stretch- albeit a tiny bit. Between each little stretch; maybe I could get enough to free my hands. Who knew reading action novels would come in this handy?

I managed to get one hand out after a lot of struggling- after that the rest was easy. They hadn’t raided my downstairs trunks, and they’d made the mistake of leaving the crafting table down here. I quickly opened my trunk- removing supplies. I used some leather to make myself some armor- especially covering my chaffed side. I found two more of my horse leashes and then climbed the ladder. I cursed as I pushed on it, figuring out that someone was lying down on the door. He woke up- rubbing his eyes a little.

I quickly dropped back down the ladder and sat down on the floor where I’d been tied up, and wrapped the leash around myself, gagging myself as well to create a full illusion of captivity. I then groaned- I needed that man to get up, and preferably come down here so I could deal with him. Rage boiled in my blood- no one got away with what these men had done. Not on my watch. I groaned as if in pain- although what little pain I was in could be easily ignored. I cued up some tears- replicating a reaction of someone without anger. I pitied people who didn’t have the anger- because without this anger there could be no acting on pain.

The man began descending the ladder. I was on my feet before he reached the bottom- wrapping the horse leash around his neck and pulling as hard as I could whilst I drove my knee into his back to keep him from moving backwards. I tugged harder- watching him gulp for air like a fish out of water. His breathing attempts eventually ceased and I threw him to the side. I stalled for a moment- Crap! Now I’d actually done something and there would be witnesses! I gritted my teeth, returning to my trunk.

Some successful miner had paid for a banquet for some extended relative’s wedding (or was it a funeral?) in redstone. I quickly pulled all of it out and made a block, and I still had a bit left over. I also went through a phase while my mother was here when I was fascinated by pyrotechnics. My mother had procured some TNT for me- and I still had a block left. I grabbed a satchel and some saddlebags and filled them with food, seeds, and other ingredients. I then climbed my ladder, and left through the hatch.

My dogs were tied and muzzled- I cursed softly as I untied them. They licked me- happy to see me not dead. I planted the TNT in the middle of the room- anger flooding through my veins. These men deserved to die after what they’d done. I laid down redstone like wire- leading outside the house. I called to my dogs softly- they came willingly. I quickly fetched my horses, which neighed softly as I lead them out of their corral. Bluebell and Scarlet respected the horse’s personal space- lagging behind a few yards so as not to spook them. I dropped some redstone as I rode, creating a small trail. I eventually made a decent amount of distance between myself and the house.

“Bye-bye assholes.” I muttered, dropping the block of redstone. “Yah!” I yelled, leading Starchaser to a gallop. Behind me, I heard the boom of my childhood home being blown to smithereens. I paused momentarily, trembling with the weight of what I’d just done.

“Come on Bluebell, Scarlet, we’re going to track down the hooded man.” Because now I had a reason to fight.

Joe wasted no time in digging down in a spiral staircase to Y11 and starting to mine. He was only mining a 64x64 plot, so he kept careful count in his head of how far he had gone. Finality, his affectionately named pickaxe, cut through the stone quickly and efficiently, though without a beacon he couldn’t instant-mine. Now that was a satisfying way to mine!

In the first few hours, he found a respectable amount of gold, iron, and redstone, but no diamonds. He turned a corner, grumbling about his luck, when he heard the telltale hiss of a spider and stopped cold. It seemed to be in front and slightly above him, but he wasn’t going to follow it. He wasn’t.

He mined another few blocks and broke into an abandoned mineshaft. He couldn’t turn back now. Abandoned mineshafts were riddled with gold – gold that he needed. Joe edged forward, sword at the ready. The spider sprang at him, but it couldn’t fit through the gap and he killed it swiftly. He emerged fully and began to sprint, planting torches as he went, but still keeping an eye on his coordinates. Around him, ores twinkles invitingly.

Joe turned a corner, breathless, and a skeleton shot him in the knee. Behind him, he heard an all-too-familiar sizzle.

Joe surged forward, straight at the skeleton, which hit him twice more before he managed to kill it. “Damn snipers,” he muttered. His heath was dangerously low, with only leather armor to protect him.

The sizzle again. He spun and backed away. Three swipes, and the creeper was dead. Joe turned on the spot, lighting up the immediate area. No mobs. He was safe, for the moment.

Eating a piece of bread and slowly steadying his breathing, Joe picked up the bones and gunpowder and stowed them in his pack. He was right at the border – all he had left to do was mine the ores and raid the chests. Then he could go back to his quiet strip mining.

The Hooded Figure was a cat person at heart, so it was with much reluctance that he agreed to let Brinley bring her dog with her. Minutes later, she allowed Elora and him to stay the night at her cottage; they had nowhere else to go.

They departed just before the crack of dawn the next morning after Brinley said goodbye to her parents and made arrangements for a replacement guard while she was gone. The clouds early in the morning gave them a false sense of security. By midday, the sun was pounding on their backs. Both Elora and Brinley removed their jackets and tied them around their waists as they traveled through the shadeless plains.

He didn't have the same luxury as them. His cloak was bad enough, but underneath it he was clad in clothes better suited for much cooler weather. It was a necessary precaution. Still, he wished he could remove his cloak.

“Where exactly are we going?” Brinley piped up. He glanced back at her. Her dog was at her heels, panting as it tried to keep up with her in the heat.

He wiped the sweat from his brow. “To the house of Finnian Edward Ignatious, descendant of Alex. He raises horses for a living.” Upon looking forward once more, he was surprised to find himself staring at a tree. When he squinted, he became even more ecstatic. It appeared to be an apple tree. He pointed at it with a gloved finger. “Let's take a break for lunch there.”


He removed his pack and withdrew three small loaves of bread wrapped in thin cloth. “I'm sorry,” he apologized. “I only brought bread with me, but we are underneath an apple tree, so I'll get us some of those as well.” The Hooded Figure moved to the other side to avoid hitting either of the girls as he began swinging his sword around in an attempt to knock down an apple.

It didn't even reach the lowest of the branches. He slipped his sword back into its sheath and looked for a stick long enough to knock the apples down. Upon finding none of the needed length, he decided he would have to climb it.

He knew it would be easier not to get the apples. Yet he felt it was his fault that all they had was bread, and he had promised to get them all apples. His reluctance to give up was probably also because of how stubborn he was; at least that's what Eva would say.

He returned to the side of the tree that Elora and Brinley were underneath. “I'm climbing it,” he informed them. Before either of them could protest his decision, he began to scale the tree.

He had chosen this side of the tree because he had previously noted small stumps where branches had broken off. They were the perfect places to put his feet as he climbed up. He knew Elora and Brinley were watching him from down below as he made his way to a branch teeming with apples.

His plan was to get onto the larger and more sturdy branch next to it and use his sword to cut the branch down. It would be easier than descending with his hands full of the red fruit.

But plans, as he should have realized long ago, never exactly go as you think they will.

As he hoisted himself on the larger branch, a sudden gust of wind blew his hood back. He kept his face to the tree and quickly put it back on. But the damage had been done; he knew both of the girls had seen his black hair.

Cursing, he withdrew his sword. “I'm cutting down this branch!” he shouted. Brinley moved and ushered her dog to follow her. Seconds later, the branch had fallen.

He quickly returned to the bottom. “There's your apples,” he simply said, gesturing at the branch before grabbing his portion of the meal and going to the other side of the tree.



Neither Elora nor Brinley brought up the incident, something he was glad for. His mind was still occupied on the possible consequences of what had occurred when they arrived at Finnian Edward Ignatious' house an hour later.

The teenager in question was on his horse, seemingly about to depart. The Hooded Figure knew it had to be him. Besides the fact that he looked to be the same age as Finnian supposedly was, he could easily see how the horse breeder was Alex's descendant.

Finnian's dog (Why did everyone have to have dogs?) was the first to notice them. He tried to quiet the canine down before looking up to see why it was barking. “Hello,” he said. Alex's descendant stared at the odd group; at the soldier, the seemingly average teenager, and at the person concealing himself underneath an old cloak. “I'm assuming you're Finnian Edward Ignatious?”

The teenager on the horse slowly nodded.

“My name is Lumm Stephens,” he reluctantly introduced himself. “The soldier is Elora Torydark. The girl beside her is Brinley Stewart. And her dog is named...” Unable to remember what the dog's name was, he trailed off.

“Molly,” Brinley supplied. “My dog's name is Molly.”

He took a step forward. “I would like to speak to you about an important matter,” The Hooded Figure explained. “It's about you being Alex's descendant.”

“I would like to speak to you about an important matter,” The Hooded Figure explained. “It's about you being Alex's descendant.”

I nod again, slowly, and the beginnings of a frown crease on my forehead. I look the group up and down and half-consider letting Ted out to scare them off. Alex's descendant, huh? I bet my hair gave me away. In which case, I should be the one wearing the hood.

"Ted, go home," I command, trying to get his attention while I point up the dirt path to the house. An ear twitches. He goes silent and looks at me, before he gives a quiet growl and trots up the path.

I lean over Pony's other side, trying not to unbalance him as I start to fumble with the gate-bolt. A fall in front of that many people would be the most humiliating thing to happen to me all year, not to mention they'd find out about my limp.

Finally, I can push the gate open and invite them, albeit slightly unenthusiastically, inside. After I shut the gate firmly, I kick pony into a trot to keep the lead, and to make sure none of them try to come alongside me to talk to me.

"Keep away from the horses's rear," I call out to them, "he'll kick you."

I pat Pony's neck as his trot becomes twitchy and flighty - he doesn't like this many people being around him. I slow him down to a brisk walk, and he calms a little. The other horses, although they don't seem to have noticed, are uneasily curious, too. I can tell by their ears, and the little flicks that their eyes make. I suspect that the newcomers can't.

We reach the house before long. Ted's lying outside in the sun, watching. I stop Pony, glancing at how far the others are behind. They're not too far, but perhaps far enough for me to dismount without them noticing my bad leg.

I lean on the pommel of the saddle, bringing my left leg over Pony's back before I let go entirely and land. There's just pain; my leg doesn't buckle beneath me, which is nice. I walk stiffly around to get Pony's reins over his head and tie them to the fence of the nearest field as the group approach.

"If all of you want to go inside, then you can find something to eat in there. You all look pretty hungry... Just look in the chest by the painting. I'll just finish tying Pony up..."

I wait for them to shut the door behind them, before I hug Pony and tell him goodbye and sorry for not taking you on a ride. He hates hugs, but this time he doesn't try to bite me.

I limp to the door and let Ted in. He stays around my feet being a general fuzzy nuisance as I make my way to the other food chest. My parents are going to the city tomorrow, anyway, to trade and get more food, so I figure they won't mind if I offer my honored guests some of the better stuff.

"We've got mutton here, and pumpkin pie, a bit of melon, bread, erhm, apples, and potatoes... It'll be enough for tonight and tomorrow, if you all decide to stay." I set them out on the countertop, "so, you can all just take what you like..."

I give a bit of the mutton to Ted, and wish I could've given Pony an apple. I don't take anything - I'm beginning to get nervous. This is about me being Alex's descendant, so what if it's something bad? An illness, perhaps?

I turn to the hooded figure, "what exactly is the issue with me being Alex's descendant?"

After looking the food on the counter over, he eagerly chose a melon slice. He had always loved the taste of melons; they had to be his favorite food. He took a small bite out of it before addressing Finnian's question. “There isn't an issue,” he replied. He wished he could eat more of the melon, but there were more important matters at hand.

Though the first bite had been wonderful, and one more bite surely couldn't hurt-

“Then why are you here?” Finnian suddenly asked, confusion as clear as day in his green eyes.

He reluctantly tore his eyes away from the melon and focused on Finnian. “I came because I want to tell you something about the legend you were told when you were a child.” The Hooded Figure took a deep breath. He tried his best to ignore the suspicion replacing the confusion on the descendant of Alex's face, but it was an impossible task. “The legend shows Notch as a hero and a savior, but in reality, he's the true Evil One.”

Then he launched into the explanation Elora and Brinley had already heard, more confident than before. Earlier, when he had doubted his ability to convince the descendants, it had been because he had been turned away. But it was different now. He had won Brinley over and Elora was seemingly interested in his claims.

He knew that with the presence of the girls and his experience giving the speech, it was all the more likely that Finnian would believe him.

The Hooded Figure returned to eating the melon after finishing his explanation. He had done everything he could. Besides, it was far too hard to ignore the melon for any longer.

I listen to the crazy speech and keep the obvious suspicion on my face. It's very close to being a situation in which I take a horse and gallop away. I don't, but it was close. I look behind the Lumm, to where the girls were standing, sending them a slightly questioning look as if to ask them if what I was hearing was legitimate.

"Okay,"

It was all I said for a while, trying to buy myself time before I had to reply with anything substantial. The Hooded Weirdo seems to be confident in his claims, rambling on like an oblivious madman on a soapbox.

"So, because I'm descended from some hero, you want me to leave my horses and come and fight for an evil god who's not actually evil?"

Lumm nodded. He wouldn't stop eating the stupid melon.

I scowl - I have no other response for the situation. This is ridiculous! I can't be expected to make such a huge decision like this, can I? I weigh up the options as quickly as I can, comparing horses and wilderness and freedom to espionage, danger, grime, and people. I didn't even know if things would turn out that way. What if they reject me because of my leg? What it gets me caught and killed?

I try to smother my panic.

"I think I'll come..." I say, quietly, "but I can take my horse, can't I?"

Lumm nodded again, taking another piece of melon.

I sighed with relief. Pony was my pride and joy, and my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without him. "Good. And I suppose if you all of you have nowhere to stay tonight, you can stay here."

"This doesn't look like the Relic Dunes Sivv."

Sivv made his way across a patch of lava rock, grunting before he answered.

"You're right. Usually we'd have seen a landcrab by now. Where are we?"

A pause.

"Sivv."

"What?"

"I think we're in the Nether."

"WHAAAAT?"

"How did we get in the Nether?"

"I....uh.....I DONT KNOW!"

"Yeah we're definitely in the the Nether. There's a lava lake."

"...a lot of things just started making sense."

Sivv felt sweat begin to trickle down his back, mingling with his fur.

"You should do that thing you do."

Sivv quickly produced a potion from the folds of his robes. It was light blue and cold to t."he touch. Sivv smashed it on the ground. Instantly the air around him cooled to a reasonable level. Sivv breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's a..... remarkably weak potion Sivv. Have I taught you nothing?"

Sivv grunted, then pulled out another potion, this time a darker blue, then smashed it on the floor. This time a cool glow spread across the Nether for miles. Lava lakes cooled, blazes shivered, and the pigmen put on their winter coats.

"Did...did I teach you that?"

Sivv continued on his walk, a satisfied smirk on his face. Just then, a shadow descended on them.

"Sivv run!"

Sivv loomed up just in time to see a massive fireball coming straight for him.

"ITS A GHAAAST!"

Sivv ran. On all fours now he dodged between magma rocks and the fireballs that now rained down around him.

"THROW A POTION OR SOMETHING!"

"SHHHHH. I have a plan!"

Ducking behind a rocky outcrop, Sivv reached into his robes and produced a potion with a glassy liquid inside.

"Is that....."

"An invisibility potion? Why yes. I made it myself, it is guaranteed invisibility for ten minute"s."

"I was going to say water, but if you say so."

Sivv rolled his eyes, but downed the contents nonetheless. Slowly, the Ghast rounded the corner, it's wails piercing Sivv ears like an arrow. Fortunately, it didnt notice Sivv, which meant the potion had done it's job.

"Alright, lets get outta here"

Sivv slipped past the ghast and ran until it faded out of view.

"Well done Sivv!"

Sivv gave a dubious look.

"Is that genuine?"

"Eeeeh. No. We still have to get out of here."

Sivv grinned.

"Well it's a good thing I always keep obsidian on me. Right?"

No answer.

"R..Right?"

Sivv sighed, slowly unhooking the cheat he carried on his back and digging through it until he found the obsidian. Slowly, he sculpted the Nether portal. With each block he stacked, a flood of memories came with it. Some happy. Some sad. It was hard to distinguish the good from the bad anymore. They'd all become bittersweet. Something he would never have ever again.

As the last block fell into place, Sivv turned. The Nether met his gaze.

"Soren?"

Silence. Closing his eyes, Sivv stepped through the only purple light. His feet landed on cobblestone. He looked up. A line of small houses lined the street he was on. Sivv shrugged, he'd been teleported to better places, but this one would do.

Brinley stepped forward as soon as Finn was done talking, abandoning her cake for the time being. She walked around the counter, and began to shake Finn's hand vigorously. "Thank you so much, you are just- sorry." She released Finn upon seeing the expression on his face. She stepped back, and tried to give it a second try. "Um... thanks for letting us stay."

Finn nodded, eyeing Brinley like she was going to attack him or something.

Brinley, trying to avoid all the eyes on her, cleared her throat and walked back around the counter to finish her cake. She felt a furry something press against her leg. She looked down, and saw Molly, begging. "It's not for you." She said, ignoring the strange look that was coming from Finn.

Molly whimpered.

"I said no." Brinley repeated sternly. However, her expression softened, and she reached into her pack, drawing out a steak. The last she had. "You'd better be thankful, you mutt."

Molly snatched up the steak eagerly, and lay on the ground to eat it up.

Brinley reached down and patted it. Remembering an important matter to her, she straightened and looked at Finn. "Where would you like us to sleep?"

"Where would you like us to sleep?"

"Er..." I hadn't thought that far ahead. This place is cramped, even for a family of three. Muddy saddles lie across the floor and any furniture we had, and bales of hay we were trying to keep dry sat in the corners. It's the same in our bedrooms, but mine's covered in Ted's shedding.

"If none of you mind, you might have to sleep on the floor..." I look from the cold spruce planks, glancing at the girl's dog, and then I look at its owner. A little bit of how apologetic I'm feeling filters through to my expression. "You can have horse blankets - it gets cold out here at night..."

I hobble to the chest that lies under a mountain of hay bales. I shove them aside, rooting through the chest to drag out enough blankets. They smell wonderfully of horses - or, at least, I find the smell wonderful. I doubt my guests will. They're striped and slightly itchy.

"They're, uh, more comfortable than they look," I say, holding them up.

Judging by their faces - of course, I can't see Lumm's face, but I can imagine - they don't believe me. I've spend plenty of nights wrapped in horse blankets, particularly when I disobey my parent's be-back-before-nightfall rule, and spend the night away from home with Pony. It's looking like tonight might be one of those nights.

Brinley came out of her stupor, and stepped forward to accept a blanket. "Thanks! These will do just nicely." She grinned. "I'm sure that once we break them in, they'll be good and comfy." She backed up and saw to finding a fresh patch of floor to make her bed at. She then flattened it on the ground, to have it crumpled again by Molly. "It's a good thing I love you, girl."

Brinley wasn't sure when the others were going to settle into bed, but she was exhausted. As a result, she lay down, folding her arms underneath her head. Despite the fact that she had shut her eyes, her brain buzzed as she thought.

She first thought about her parents. She had run off without warning, she just left them a note explaining what she was doing. Now that she thought on it, the couple of paragraphs that she had written weren't nearly long enough. She should have left scrolls upon scrolls for them.

Scrolls expressing love, and her thankfulness, and explaining in full what she was doing. That she was running off with this Lemm guy... Her thoughts then turned to the Hooded Figure himself. He seemed friendly enough, though he was a bit of a loner. Guard training came into play, poisoning her thoughts as they rolled around her head. Perhaps too much of a loner. Why does he keep that hood on anyhow?

Perhaps he's a criminal. Her guard side asked.
But he couldn't be. The Brinley side reasoned. He's too kind.
Ah, but he freaked out whenever his hood blew off. Maybe he doesn't want us to recognize him.

"Shut up!" Brinley groaned to herself, attracting the stares of the muttering adults. She faced them with a blush on her face. "Oh... sorry."

I stare, only for a brief moment, but staring nonetheless, at the girl who'd taken the blanket muttered to herself. I can’t help but remember all of the stories I’ve read about murderers who talk to themselves. I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.I turn away and shove a blanket at Lumm, cringing internally as the sticky melon touches the clean fabric. I practically throw the final blanket at Elora and then make for the door. Before I shut it behind me, I utter a not-very-sincere goodnight.

Pony nickers to me as I approach, straining against the reins.

"Hello, Pony." I say, trying to nicker back as I untie the reins and lead him back to his field. He shares it with my mother's mule, who brays as we approach. The sky darkens, leaving just the torchlight, as I finish petting and untacking Pony. I give him a much more sincere goodnight and set off to find my parents, almost tripping over Ted on my way.

He and I find my mother in the stables with one of our best horses, Allegro. He's probably the fastest horse we've ever bred, as well as one of the friendliest and most loyal, aside from Pony, of course. He's a dun leopard appaloosa, and he's about seven years old.

As I try to explain to my mother what exactly is going on - which is hard, seen as I don't completely know, either - I stroke his nose. It's like fuzzy velvet. I finally persuade her that no, they're not horse bandits, no, they're not here to buy Ted, and if it was possible that she and my father would use the other door to get in, seen as I don't want to deal with them again tonight. I also tell her that I'll be going out for a ride with them tomorrow. I don't tell her that I won't be back for a while.

I, too, use the other door to get to my small, spruce-wood bedroom. Ted follows me. Tonight, I let him sleep at the end of my bed. My room is covered in grey carpet, and there's a window backing onto a horse's field by my bed. I have a chest underneath it, full of saddles, horse armour, and golden apples for Pony. Various items of horse tack lie across my floor. I shove one muddy saddle off of my duvet. Wisps of hay sit on my pillow.

As I try to sleep, my mind turns to the group who'd arrived on my doorstep. More specifically, I think about their hooded leader, Lumm. I can't think up anything else apart from either a skin problem - or perhaps he's a wanted criminal in the process of netting a group of naive victims, ready for to kill - as an excuse for wearing his irritating cloak. It'd be nice to at least know what he looks like. I'm not going to lie - I don't like him. I don't really like any of them.

Then I fall asleep.

Elora


Our host seemed very uncomfortable with all of us taking over his floor for the night, after throwing a horse blanket to me and growling out a good night he disappeared through the door. Leaving me with Lumm and Brinely, the latter was already asleep on the floor after she had scared our host by muttering to herself. The former was spreading his own blanket across the floor seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was getting melon juice all over the blanket.
I decided I trusted Brinely a whole lot more than I trusted Lumm so I spread out my blanket near her and removed my long coat from around my waist. Normally I would also remove my weapons and place them on the ground however I am a soldier and I don't trust anyone for miles in any direction so I decided to keep my daggers on me and simply remove my bow. This drew a strange look from Lumm which I ignored and wrapped myself in the blanket. Having spent quite a few nights in the army with a horse blanket I found it very comfortable and almost fell asleep immediately but I caught myself and was able to stay awake by keeping my thoughts focused on my plans.
My first thought was of Neo a red tailed hawk I had befriended just before joining the army, he had been following us since I left and could be very useful for sending a message back to the general later. If what Lumm claimed was true then I needed some proof and Neo to do something about the situation. I decided to bring some of the meat I had stored in my small backpack to Neo in the morning in case Finnian had small animals he wanted to remain alive.
Then my thoughts wandered back to the strange man who I had followed here. I knew I trusted him a little because I had followed him but beyond that I was stumped. He was like a turtle that had to be coaxed from its shell, I hoped with some prodding he would open up to us a bit more. He had a reason for keeping that hood on, if it was for a vain reason such as a skin disease he would have taken it off when the day got hot. This led me to believe he didn't want us to know who he was. I had dealt with people like this in the army. They would send anonymous tips that turned out to be right, then they would show up at the camp frantic and begging for help. A group of men would be sent, then halfway to our destination we would be ambushed. The grip on my daggers tightened as I drifted into a dream.

I walked through a lush green forest as the sun went down casting a golden glow over the leaves. Light glinted off my dagger, grinning I used this to shine light into my friend Arthur's eyes. Giggling as he squinted I sheathed my dagger again. He ran his hand through his deep red hair and smiled as he reprimanded me.

"You are supposed to be leading us not distracting us" he said feigning anger.
Taking out his own dagger he carefully repeated my trick.

"Hey!" said giggling quietly.

After exchanging a playful glance I ran up to the hooded figure and asked for some more details about our mission. Suddenly he threw back his hood and sneered at me as a volley of arrows flew at my men.
The dream shifted now and my body was pinned under a tree. Blood leaked from an arrow in my leg and I struggled to free myself from my prison. Arthur rushed over to me and managed to lift the tree off of me. He looked so perfect as he held me hardly a scratch on his body. This was of course unbelievably different from how he was in my memory, allowing me to think that maybe this time we could both make it.

"I used Neo to call my horse" Arthur whispered.

I could hear the horse coming he was almost here.

We can make it! I thought desperately as the sound of hooves drew closer.

Arthur helped me to my feet and we hobbled over to where his horse Arrow would soon appear.

We didn't make it that far.

The hooded figure jumped from a tree and landed on Arthur pushing us both to the ground. I screamed as he drove his sword into Arthur's back. He stared at me as he savagely removed the weapon. I yelled and threw my dagger at him not looking to see if I had hit him. The last thing I saw before waking up was Arthur's lifeless green eyes staring back at me in disappointment.


I woke up with tears flowing down my cheeks and a fresh cut from my dagger on my leg. (An occupational hazard that was typically worth it if I was safe.) I was hyperventilating and I could feel my heart beating a hundred miles an hour. I tried to control my breathing and my thoughts, I decided that after bandaging my cut I should go outside and get some fresh air.
It was just before dawn and the morning was a cold one and I wrapped the horse blanket tightly around me.
Neo was perched on the roof outside the house and I offered him some meat. He flew down and perched on my arm as I fed him small pieces. Being near him and outside helped me a lot, after calming down I told Neo what had happened and where we were going. Then I promised him more meat and motioned for him to fly back to the roof. Wiping away some fresh tears I went and sat by the door letting the cold air envelope me for a few more minutes.

“You can't bring your horse!”

His sleep that night had been fitful, memories of long ago weaving nightmares with fears of the present. Waking up in a cold sweat before the sun had even started its travel across the sky came as no surprise; it had been three years since he had been able to sleep without terrifying dreams.

Or dreams at all, for that matter.

He had wandered around the property for a short while before entering the stables. He hadn't ridden a horse in years, never having the time nor opportunity. But instead of a calm moment of remembrance of times long ago, he found himself faced with a problem; Finnian was in the middle of saddling his horse.

The descendant of Alex turned, startled. The Hooded Figure knew he hadn't heard him enter the stables. Silent footsteps was something he was a master of, and he often forgot about that skill.

“You can't bring your horse,” he repeated, this time more quietly for fear of waking anyone up. His tone remained as forceful as before. Finnian, having gotten over his initial shock of The Hooded Figure's arrival, looked at him in clear disbelief.

Finnian opened his mouth to speak. Then he closed it and thought for a second before whispering, “If you want me to come, you have to let me bring my horse. My parents think I'm going out for a ride with you.” He took a step away from the horse and towards The Hooded Figure. Finnian glared defiantly up at him. Underneath his hood, he returned the glare.

“You can change your explanation! Riding horses are a faster way of travel, but they would draw more attention to us then by walking-” He fell silent. His gaze remained focused on the teenager's leg. “Crap.”

Finnian Edward Ignatious had a limp. He needed the horse not only as a cover story for his parents, but also because walking pained him.

A groan left The Hooded Figure's lips. He hadn't planned for something like this; Eva might have, but not him! Not allowing Finnian to bring his horse was not only cruel, but would most likely convince the teenager that coming with the group was a bad idea.

He sighed. “You can bring your horse.” Then he turned his back to Alex's descendant and stormed out of the stables with a swish of his cloak.



After they had a brief breakfast, Finnian said goodbye to his parents and the small group departed.

The Hooded Figure had remained silent for the majority of the morning. The few times he had spoken his voice had been quiet and almost inaudible; the descendants repeatedly had to ask him to speak up.

Everything seemed to be going wrong. First there was the incident with his hood, and now Finnian was beside them on his horse. He glowered underneath his hood. Both were things he had wished to prevent, and he had failed to do so in the two situations.

The group, seemingly able to sense his mood, gave him a wide berth as they followed him to a destination they did not know. Even the dogs understood, as they were cowering behind the humans.

They walked in silence for nearly an hour before one of the descendants spoke. “Lumm?” Elora hesitantly questioned.

He spun around. “Yes?”

“Where are we going?”

He turned his back to her and continued walking. “We're heading to a mine to speak to a descendant of Steve named Joseph Hayes.” He fell silent once more.

“A mine,” he heard Finnian repeat from behind him. “We're going to a mine. Mines have hostile mobs in them.”

“Obviously,” The Hooded Figure muttered. He spoke a little louder to address the point Finnian brought up; he didn't have to look behind him to see that it was weighing on the minds of the others as well. “It's a strip mine.”

“Strip mines can have mobs in them too,” Finnian argued.

He pulled his hood down farther, worried that a repeat of yesterday would happen. “None of you have to come in with me. I can enter the mine on my own. Though I may not look like it, I can fight.” He lifted his cloak up to show Brinley and Finnian his sword.



After overhearing where Joseph Hayes was mining, they snuck in without being seen. The Hooded Figure feared that his story wouldn't work in this situation, and he was grateful that it wasn't put to the test. He knew that it wouldn't make sense for a student to risk his life in order to do a research project. Plus, there was now the addition of the other members of their group. He wasn't sure how he would have explained their presence.

Despite Finnian's earlier argument, he had descended into the strip mine along with the others. His horse (Pony, was it?) was left outside with the two dogs.

According to the most recent census The Hooded Figure had consulted, Joseph had a daughter named Amy. He preferred to ask the younger of the descendants. The older someone was, the higher the chance that they would be set in their ways. But Amy was only twelve years old, and though he did know several twelve year olds in the Resistance (Gladys Weaver and Martin Hake came to mind), he wouldn't feel right asking someone so young.

They stopped in front of a mineshaft. “He must have gone in there,” Brinley said.

The Hooded Figure nodded in agreement. Before he could suggest they enter it, the man he supposed they were looking for exited.

Joseph Hayes seemed startled. Though he tried to hide it, The Hooded Figure had noticed a look of surprise in the man's dark brown eyes. “Who are you four?” he questioned, his hand going for his enchanted iron sword.

The Hooded Figure held up his hands in the universal sign of peace. “My name is Lumm Stephens. The people I'm traveling with are Elora Torydark, Brinley Stewart, and Finnian Edward Ignatious.” He lowered his hands to his side and rested one of them on his sword's hilt in case a hostile mob tried to attack them while he spoke. “I've come to talk to you, Mr. Hayes, because you are a descendant of Steve.”