//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5: Alone 
// Story: My Little Minecraft: At the End 
// by Journeyman 
//------------------------------//

Chapter 5: Alone

I had thought that I imagined it. An emotion, as weak and tenuous as an ocean breeze, touched the blue creature’s face ever so slightly. It was a ghastly thing to see, likely brought on from my own experiences in the past with creepers. All I saw plastered on their faces was an endless accusatory glare, a piercing gaze that could open my mind and peer at its contents, seeing whatever little detail or memory inside. Always glaring, always seeking to slay me.

I suppose that’s what was so unnerving about this one. As the hate died down, it was replaced by something else. Curiosity? That would be my best guess. I think it would have been more comforting to see the all too familiar glare of a creeper. I know how to deal with that circumstance: fight or flight. I didn’t know how to deal with this. What do I do when I meet a creature that willingly offers me mercy? What could I possibly do to defend myself against its full might? Why did the creature not attack me when it had the chance to? I don’t know how to react to such mercy, such kindness. 

That recurring reaction still rang loudly in my head. Fight or flight? I was still undecided. Either way, I needed room to maneuver. I needed to stand. I started to rise, paying special attention to make my movements as slow as possible to avoid startling this new creature.

Now that I wasn’t under the threat of imminent death, I took a moment to give the creature a more thorough examination. Indeed a quadrupedal creature... hooves... fetlocks... ankle and elbow... all typical anatomy expected of cattle, but the musculature was wrong. It was too lean, built for stamina and distance. ‘Twas thinner than I expected and had a narrow waist and wide hips. Child bearing hips. A female?

But it was not the discovery of a new creature that surprised me most. It wore clothes of a sort. Donned across its cranium was a bright silver tiara with minute engravings. The artifact was matched by a pair of silver slippers, equipped on both her front and back hooves. What kind of adornment was it? A sign of ownership? Superfluous decoration?

The other startling fact was an abstract and utterly fantastic phenomenon occurring on its cranium. Her hair was full and voluminous cobalt-blue, but was not composed of standard follicles. It appeared to be crafted out of...stars. Her wondrous and fantastic hair, something that shouldn’t exist, moved through the air with fluidic grace. I would understand if it were blowing in the wind, but no gale, large or small, was present. It simply moved of its own accord.

The she-beast opened her mouth and let out a garbled string of syllables, causing me to jump with surprise. That was most unexpected. Speech now? It seemed stunned by my startled reaction more than my mere presence. But what did it expect? I’d never seen her kind. Since I haven’t seen any of mine in this strange place, I would wager neither had she.

Its expression turned to one of contemplation and confusion. I know the feeling well. She said something else in her garbled tongue, more gibberish that I couldn’t understand.

Despite its language, I was curious about this peculiar creature. Mercy, curiosity, and language, all traits consistent of a sophisticated life form like myself. My many days in the Overworld, ones consumed by monotony and danger in equal shares, had numbed me of my loneliness gathered over the years. I used to strike up conversations with myself and the random livestock, sometimes even a penned monster, just to break up the monotony of my days. But after the eons, I had stopped the practice, or speaking in general. What use is speaking if there was never anyone to listen?

But now after this incredible ordeal, one fraught with new and lethal dangers and wonders, I had come across a creature capable of bridging the emotional and intellectual gap I had been missing in my life. Like the Endermen, I couldn’t understand it, but this time I might be able to reach a common ground. 

I couldn’t help myself; I took a step forward and cautiously extended an arm toward the creature. She was hesitant, not expecting me to make the first move. I did not expect it either. I never did such a thing in the past. What was wrong with me? Why was I reaching out, physically and emotionally, to a creature that I did not know or understand in any respect? 

It must be time, I supposed. I have lived for ages. Hundreds, thousands, millions of years; I am not sure how long anymore. I have long since stopped counting the eons. I have never withered with time, but met it hand-in-hand as it strolls down the long corridor of existence. My isolation defined me, so why did I throw it away so casually? Why perform an act I knew had a high chance of danger? Was I so starved of emotional stimulation that I would blindly reach out for the first outstretched opportunity to experience it? 

        Whatever temporary madness seeded my heart did not have time to sprout fruit. Just as the creature reached out with her own hooved appendage, the skies flooded with creatures from the clouds. 

        Oh, not a chance.

        Too many to fight. Flight then, but that still left the blue female to deal with.

        I needed a distraction. I needed an escape. Calling out my energy reserves once more, I extracted the flint and steel striker once more and started a blaze. At the very least, it would buy time. 

        The grass lit up and the flames began to spread. I noticed that they spread much faster than normal, but I didn’t much care right then and there; escape was the only thing on my mind. Since I could not outrun this creature, that left one choice. Ender Pearls.

        I loathed using the Pearls and my hatred was two-fold. I must slay a sentient creature, an Enderman, to gain it, and using it is a double-edged sword. Upon being thrown, I would be teleported to wherever the stone lands. The problem was that I suffered wounds whenever I do so. A broken limb, coughing up blood, going momentarily blind, the list of symptoms goes on. Right then and there, I would gladly suffer harm in order to flee that small army.

        I conjured a Pearl and threw it with all my might. After a brief wait, the horde of creatures and the village vanished from sight.





My wound that time was a sudden pain in my chest and a coughing fit. I needed to lean up against a tree, hacking up gobs of coagulated blood. The fit subsided after a few minutes, but the taste of iron never left my mouth. I examined my surroundings: thick trunks of trees deep in the forest, green grass, small streams, and... curves.

Curves...

        No hard lines, no incremental spacing, and no predictable patterns. Trees did not have trunks built in perfect squares. The grassy forest hills and babbling streams were constructed in smooth and fluid lines, not 90 degree angles. 

        The Overworld and the Nether were built with a mathematical perfection. It had rules that were finite and insurmountable. Everything was composed of squares. It was easy to identify distance by such means. It helped me plan grids and homes, proving to be a flawless means of storing the maximum amount of objects within an enclosed space. There could be millions of pound of sand in a desert, but each desert was composed of sand blocks that were always a square meter in size. That was the rule. The law. The square was my life, how I saw the world and mined from it. How I harvested its resources. How I built monuments to my own vanity.

        The square defined me.

        So what trickery was this? What was wrong with this place? Why was it built to such absurd specifications? How was it capable of functioning on even a basic level? Curves? That left an infinite number of possibilities to consider. How could creatures, even those strange winged ones, live in such a confusing place?

        I needed more information. I needed help comprehending what I was seeing, feeling, and experiencing. It was another item in the now long list of problems and contemplations I needed to sort through at a later date. I couldn’t help myself in my frustration. I slapped a hand to my face and gave a sigh of exasperation.

        I blinked in surprise. The moon had not changed positions -- no, it had moved only the barest fraction, since I started my run.

        Why hasn’t the moon moved? The night only lasts seven minutes; the moon should have moved much further by no --- know what? I don’t care. I’m not even surprised anymore.





        There were no monsters here. I heard noises from deeper in the forest, yes, but I did not see any creatures. It was still night, so I expected creatures to be stalking me at every turn, that every shadow hid some horror ready and willing to slay me at a moment’s notice. There was nothing. There was rustling and growling far away, but no matter how far I walked, I heard nothing nearby. It was a night completely free of monsters. Why did that depress me?

I suppose it would be the last vestige of home I could latch onto, even if it was unpleasant. Everything I have experienced in this strange place added up to only one possible conclusion: this most definitely wasn’t the Overworld. Through that realm of energy, I had somehow jumped across worlds. No more could I tend to my herds, no more could I climb the mountains, no more could I cross the oceans with which i had become so acquainted.

...I was as far away from home as I could get.

        I stood in a shallow stream pondering that, soft tears freely flowing from my eyes and washing away with the steadily flowing water. How adequate a metaphor. It hit me, right then and there, just how overwhelming my situation truly was. I had nothing left to hold onto, save for what was stored inside myself. 

        I was completely and unequivocally alone.

        I dunked my hands in the water to clean off the grime and dirt accumulated over my stay and my final few hours in the Overworld.  Particulates came off in brown streaks, but then something I should have noticed right away, something so foreign it might as well had a sign spelling out the irregularity, caught my attention.

        I could feel the current against the palm of my hand. It was quite a peculiar sensation. The cold water brushed against every nerve, groove, and whorl. I couldn’t help but stupidly smile. Water in the Overworld pushed and shoved like a wall, moving whatever was in its path without a care in the world. Water here was calm and peaceful, slowly flowing across my hand like a gentle breeze. 

        I lifted my hand out of the water and watched as small droplets formed and dripped off. My hand started to numb with cold and my silly grin widened. What was it about these peculiar sensations that dumbfounded me so much? 

        Madness. Probably madness.

        I had become addicted to textures. Everything in the Overworld was flat and lifeless. I had thought nothing of it because my primary goal up to now had been building and staying alive. But here, the trials were balanced out with a whole new set of sensations and pleasures. The bark of trees was gnarled and rough, coming off in chunks that were brittle and bothersome as I ground it up in my hands. The grass tickled my ankles as I walked through the weeds.

        I  tripped over a protruding root of a stout tree and landed in a bed of roses. Instead of growing singularly like they do in the Overworld, here I saw them clumped together in a medium-sized bush. My palm landed flat against a thorn as I braced myself against the fall. The pain was nothing, but I took a perverse fascination at watching a drop of blood collect, roll down my finger, and fall to the ground. 

        Something so small, and yet so wondrous to watch...

        Scents were starting to fill my lungs and I had just received a faceful of roses. They had a sweet smell; refreshing, but not overpowering. I could smell water in the air so much more sharp than I used to. I heard the deep, thunderous boom of a coming storm and the smell of ozone stronger than I had ever smelt it before. 

I took my time exploring my senses. The strong musk of the plants and earth and the smooth and gentle scents of the wind and waters, each brought forth an explosion of new sensations and feelings I didn’t know I possessed. 

        I kept walking, examining the life around me in as much detail as I could, but the further I walked, the louder and more aggressive a single noise became. It started off as a low hum, nothing to be concerned about in the slightest, but kept increasing in volume and intensity with every step. After moving aside some low-hanging brambles, I saw the source of the ruckus.

        A waterfall, one far larger than any I had ever seen before, dumped hundreds of gallons of water every minute across an outcropping of granite. But it was not just the sight of it that set my mind in awe and my heart aflutter, it was the sound. It was great and tumultuous, a loud, all-consuming roar that deafened me to any other distraction or impulse. No event in the Overworld, or even anything I had seen up to that point in time, came anywhere close to matching the glory and splendor of that moment. I was enchanted at first sight.

        I walked to the riverbank’s edge, almost slipping on the moist rocks in the process. The crashing water split into two paths, one in the deeper depths of the earth and the other snaked its way into the forest. The river started with a rapids that sprayed a fine layer of mist into the air and onto my face.

        I simply stood on the stones, letting the roar wash over me.  I watched the water turn into tiny droplets of liquid. I watched the cascade  produce a vast swath of foam as it crashed into the riverbed. The water raced into the forest, the current looking like a thousand racing strands, each attempting to beat each other to the end of the line.

        I closed my eyes, letting the sound alone wash over me. I was relaxed listening to that sound. It surrounded the moist air like an all-consuming cloak, a powerful yet comforting presence that allowed a weary miner and crafter to stand in its vicinity out of generosity. I just stood there, blind to the world.

        I don’t know how long I listened to  the waterfall. Everything else was slowly vanishing from my consciousness; my fatigue, the sweat staining my shirt, the mist in the air and my slowly calming heartbeat, all of that tucked itself neatly into the back of my head and faded into the dark of my subconscious. Maybe, just maybe, this place wasn’t so bad. It just took some getting used to. Whatever my thoughts of the future may be, I was at peace once more.

        Until that stupid flying creature interrupted my revelry.

        I had lost all focus of my surroundings, and that made it easy for me to get ambushed. With a blow to the head, I was tackled to the ground. I flailed around uselessly to regain my footing and the creature detached itself from me.

        I got to my feet and analyzed my foe. It was one of the flying creatures that accompanied the blue female from before. It was armored with a helm of a light violet hue with interlocking plates running down the back of its neck, topped off with some sort of bag tied across its back. It was the same type of creature as the blue one, only smaller in size and without the horn, but far more lean. It was glaring at me in challenge and curiosity, examining me for any sign of weakness.

        I did not need this. 

        I did not want a fight, but I doubted I would be able to escape otherwise. I had lost my only sword earlier and I did not want to break out my bow too soon, so I needed a less conventional weapon.

I tried conjuring a stick, but the creature was too fast, maneuvering around me and attacking from behind. I fell to my knees, more out of shock than pain, and took a blind swing to my flank. I hit something and the creature landed to my left side, its attack diverted. I swung an elbow with every ounce of strength I possessed, knocking the creature on its rear.

I was so not in the mood for dealing with monsters right then and there. I conjured up my flint and steel firestarter and prepared to set the creature ablaze, but its speed was still too much. It rose into the air and vanished into the dark night sky.

I searched the dark corners of the forest, but my search was fruitless; everything beyond the first several meters was a featureless void in the pale moonlight. Which still only crawled across the sky. 

No, I'm not bitter.

I required a light source to fight, so I brought forth a torch and thrust it into the stones. The flickering light illuminated the riverbank, but I still did not see the beast.

I heard a slight noise in the dark over the sound of the waterfall, but I could not pinpoint the disturbance. Soon after, I heard the clatter of stones and saw the creature gliding on its great, leathery wings.

I was left with no choice but to bring out my bow and letting loose a shot. It rose, banking off into the dark, and I lost it once more.

I needed to stop underestimating the creatures of this realm. This beast alone was highly intelligent; no movement was wasted, every action taught it something about my strategies. I was used to fighting dim creatures that could be overpowered by simple tactics and surprise. Sure, the creepers had enough smarts to ambush me from behind, but they were nothing compared to this creature. I wasn't in a simple battle, I was in a fight for my life.

        I heard more shuffling rocks and let loose another arrow and immediately wished I hadn't waste it. I knew blind attacks wouldn't work on this creature; it was too smart for that.

With the torch at my back, I began watching the sky with as much scrutiny as the ground. It was fortunate I did, for a barrage of stones came soaring out of the dark. I dodged most, only needing an arrow to redirect one of them. But even though I managed to thwart its attack, I knew I was outmatched. It was time to flee again.

Conjuring up another Ender Pearl, I cocked an arm back and the Pearl was just about to leave my fingers, before I was tackled once more.

I was overcome by a sense of vertigo as I was abruptly teleported across space. Due to the creature’s interference, I had horrendously undershot the horizon I was aiming for. I wanted distance, but only managed to gain a few dozen yards on it, which would soon become useless as the Pearl's side effect took over.

I felt a horrible snap in my leg as the bone splintered. I gasped, clutching the offending leg in agony, but my concern unwillingly switched back to the creature as it continued the assault.

        It took advantage of my weakness, letting loose a vicious assault on my body. I had become lean and hardened over many years of mining for ore, but that did not make me immune to damage. This creature's speed, its power, every punishment it dealt was fluid and graceful. I was fighting a warrior.

Fate, however cruel, was still fair. Blinking back the pain, I conjured a torch and dropped it in attempt to frighten the creature. The creature hissed in pain, but held its ground. It bought me enough time to gather my thoughts for a counter attack. This creature, however skilled, was smaller and far less lean than myself. In a test of strength, I might be able to triumph.

        To do so, I needed time to recover, but I couldn't just yet; that would leave an opening. But if I made an intentional opening, perhaps I could buy the time I needed. My strength was greater and I tossed the creature off, but it was not through with me yet. Dodging my first few strikes, it blitzed my undefended body and turned.

I smiled.

I had examined the musculature of the blue female and concluded that these creature had fairly strong leg muscles. A strike with both legs would be slow, but devastating enough to finish me in a single stroke. I was waiting for that.

I conjured up two cubes of cobblestone and set them in place between us. The energy ribbons dropped to the ground and hardened to their natural state as they left me. I heard a thump on the other side of the wall and what I hope was cursing in pain. Petty vengeance is the best vengeance. It was like that time I stormed a group of creepers with nothing but a helmet, chestplate, and sword for trying to blow me up. No more creepers trying to steal all my stuff again.

Stop getting distracted, stop getting distracted, stop getting distracted...

Every spare second that that wall had bought was precious. I conjured a Potion of Instant Healing and downed the contents. My aches began to numb to naught but a dull ache. I felt a tingling sensation as my leg reset the bone and knitted the muscles to their proper place. Next, I conjured my trusty iron pickaxe. 

It was time to fight back.

        I charged fist and pickaxe swinging, but deliberately kept the attack slower than necessity demanded. I wanted to draw the creature in close again, for that would be the only time I could make a suitable counterattack. Luckily, it took the bait.

        I slipped on the wet stones, dropping my pick in the process, but the end result was still the same. It headbutted my abdomen and I felt something give way. However, my mind was set on defeating the creature in front of my, however I may do it. But first, I needed to get rid of its pesky armor.

Absorbing a single item is easy, but if it's jammed right next to another, it's more difficult. It takes a great deal of concentration to select what item to convert and absorb, especially if it is attached to a living entity. 

In a fit of boredom, I made helmets for cattle and practiced absorbing them without physically removing them. Those first few tries were tricky, but I had honed the skill to such a degree that I was able to do it successfully about 90% of the time.”.

Clasping my hands around its head, I started the process of absorbing its helmet. The helmet turned into an amorphous blob of violet before running up my arm and into my chest, safely tucked inside me with all my other items. The creature's eyes widened in understanding at what was about to happen. It would have been correct, if it guessed I would be returning the headbutt.

        The creature slumped over, stunned, and I gathered my pick to deliver the finishing blow. 

Then it came.

I am not a creature fond of hyperbole but I almost jumped out of my skin when the ground between myself and the creature burst into flames without warning. The creature had managed to stand up and was looking around in alarm, but she did not see what I saw. Something spoke from the darkness, stepping out with a confidence that suggested it could enter and exit through the darkness as it pleased.

It was another one of the four legged creatures, only slightly smaller than the winged one in front of me. What was strange about the newcomer was it had a varying mishmash of white and black stripes across its hide. So far, the skins of these animals had been constant to one color and only one, but it was the first time I had set my eyes on one of these creatures with a multi-colored coat.

        The creature spoke, using the same garbled tongue that I had no hope of deciphering. However, I don't believe I needed to. Like the blue one, the striped one had very telling eyes. I do not recall the color, but those eyes... they betrayed an intelligence I would not have thought these creatures possessed. It did not bow or submit to me as a threat or superior in any way; it believed itself to be in command of the situation. 

Frankly, I was impressed, because, looking back on the situation, I believe it was wholeheartedly.

There was something I found curious in the striped one’s eyes. It wasn’t like the winged creature’s need for dominance, but it still radiated the same aura of command. For the moment, we simply stared into each other’s eyes, seeking out what little morsel of knowledge we could find.

 I found none. I couldn’t help but admire the creature’s fortitude and intelligence. It - I should say she due to it having the same child-bearing hips - commanded me without saying an understandable word that our duel should end. Even the other creature seemed to defer to it. But even though I doubt it was for the same reasons, I did not want the battle to continue. I was near exhaustion and the emotional strain of my ordeal up to that point had taken a great toll on my physical and mental well-being. This fight needed to end.

I lowered my pickaxe and made myself ready to retreat into the forest. The sounds I heard from before, the growling and roaring, came back to mind, but I would take my chances deeper in the forest over fighting the winged one alone again. If it teamed up with the striped one, I was certain I would lose the duel. I looked at the winged one again; it was fidgeting at my every move, but remained in place. 

I turned in place and ran for all I was worth.

I don’t know how far I ran or how long, but I could no longer see the flickering light of my torch and the sound of running water had been reduced to dull hum. I had escaped both creatures and certain death. But the eyes of the striped one... it was like trying to force my way past an iron wall with nothing but my fists. I did not believe I could dominate her will even if I understood her language.

When I believed I had acquired a suitable distance away from the pair, I stopped to think things over. My first order of business was to develop a shelter. I needed a sanctuary from assault, as I was still unsure of what else could call this strange world home. It was time to get to work.

I replaced my pickaxe with a shovel and started digging myself a hole to hide in. Ah, my last fallback option: dig a hole and cry like a coward. I used to be so much braver than this. I had become soft with nothing but creepers, spiders and zombies to fight. It only took a worthy adversary to show me my true colors. 

My shovel’s magic did its job, extracting a cubic meter out of the ground and converting it into another stream of energy for me to absorb. I kept digging deeper and deeper until I had a large enough pit to walk around in. As a last measure to conceal my presence to the outside world, I placed dirt above my head, returning the ground above me to its natural state.  Crude, but effective.

I stood in a hollow bunker underground, contemplating what to do. My hands started shaking with exhaustion and poorly repressed fear. I couldn’t stop myself from sliding to the ground while I panted and broke out in cold sweat. I was safe from harm, but everything I had just experienced, Endermen, Darkness, strange portals, and new creatures with an uncanny intellect, came rushing back in a flood of emotion and pain. I was alone, but still panicking, a traitorous impulse that I did not need to deal with at that point. I needed rest, I needed to focus myself, set a goal in stone and follow it. So I conjured up one of my journals and began my tale, a series of unfortunate events that baffled, enthralled, and terrorized me to my core.





I now conclude my recount, sitting on the moist ground with the light of a single torch to illuminate the rectangular dirt room. I am drained. I feel like I must  do something, set traps to make my safety certain, something to occupy myself, but I have nothing left to give. I can’t even force myself to stand, let alone conjure a bed for a proper night's rest. I’m just too tired, drained of all enthusiasm. Nothing but the imminent fear of death could make me move from this spot right now. I’m just too tired right now.

I’m so tired right now. So tired right now. If my chronicle continues at a future date, I have survived the night. For now, I must rest.

        Rest...





Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter commentary: LINK
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Edited by: Material Defender, Ebony Eliis, Viktor Lionheart