//------------------------------// // A Crafter's Dream Ch. 55: Retrieved // Story: A Crafter's Dream (Discontinued) // by ruthim345 //------------------------------// Now, without further ado, I present, “A Crafter’s Dream” Steve walked alone, having left the changelings behind a good five minutes prior, accompanied only by the sound of his footsteps echoing off the cave walls. He remained in his Nightmare Form, not only since it served as a means of protection but also because, as an added benefit, it made navigating the dimly lit hall much easier due to his enhanced vision. ‘Steve, I detect a familiar magic aura up ahead.’ ‘Is it Zecora?’ Steve asked. ‘Most likely. However, her presence seems muted somehow. Keep your guard up.’ ‘Got it. Thanks.’ Moving carefully, he made his way to a nearby doorway. Listening for a moment, he deduced that there was no one inside. Readying himself, he poked his head in. What immediately met his gaze made his stomach cringe in on itself. The room was filled with these kind of, green egg-like containers. It reminded the Crafter distinctly of the many spider nests he’d cleared out back in the day, only instead of eggs, it was these weird pods. Most were empty. However, in the middle of the room, one container was filled, its sole occupant the very zebra that Steve was looking for. “Zecora!” Steve exclaimed, immediately rushing over to where she was held. Upon getting closer, he saw that she was unconscious but alive, evidenced by the faint movement of her chest. Breathing a sigh of relief, Steve ran his shadow-coated fingers over the cold, yet soft surface of the pod. Square: Punch Bringing back his fist, he slammed it into the cocoon, easily puncturing the strange, film-like surface. Pulling back his arm, he back-pedaled a bit when a strange green slime poured out of the hole he’d made. Tearing away the rest of the outside layer, he hastily pulled a slime-covered Zecora from her strange prison. Laying her down on the stone floor, away from the green slime pool, he looked her over. ‘Nightmare, how does she look?’ He asked. There was a few moments of silence before Nightmare Steve answered. ‘Vitals are normal. Her unconscious state seems to be a combination of exhaustion and an induced slumber. The slime seems to give an anesthetic-like effect. While your Nightmare Form is blocking most of it, you may still feel a slight numbness in your body.’ Steve looked down at his lower body, which was covered in the stuff. Nightmare Steve was right, he did feel slightly numb, but it was barely noticeable. Shaking it off, he carefully picked up the unconscious zebra bridal-style before walking out of the room, making his way back to where the entrance was. * * * * * Steve didn’t encounter any changelings on his way out, which surprised him to be honest. He figured what with him beating the shit out of one of their own, they’d be pissed off. Although, maybe it was because he’d beaten the shit out of one of their own so badly that they were avoiding him. Now, just because he didn’t see them, per say, didn’t mean they weren't there. Sometimes, when he turned a corner, he’d catch a quick flash of something black disappearing around the bend, unsure if it was a changeling or just him seeing things. He could hear the sound of hushed voices and feel the gaze of who-knew how many changelings on him as he walked by the various entrances to “empty” rooms. It made his skin crawl, but he ignored it. If none of them were going to show themselves, then there wasn’t any point in worrying. Eventually, he turned down another corridor and saw light at the end of it. Grinning, he reaffirmed his grip on Zecora and started walking faster, wanting to get the hell out of this place. However, he stopped after a couple steps. Glancing back, he saw that the corridor behind him was still empty, from what he could see. But, in his gut, he knew they were still there. He didn’t need Nightmare Steve for him to know that. Sighing heavily, he looked forward again and continued on, stepping into the light of early morning, where the sun could be seen in the distance barely peeking over the horizon. “Damn.” Steve muttered to himself. “Must’ve been in there for a while if it’s morning already.” Sighing once more, Steve was about to carry on his way, only for a memory to resurface in the back of his head. Groaning, he glanced up at the rock ledge way above, with a look of irritation on his face. Gently laying Zecora down on some nearby grass, he reached over his shoulder and tried to grab his fishing rod. Only for his hand to grasp nothing. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, he tried again, only to get the same result. ‘Nightmare, what’s going on?’ He asked, trying to keep the hint of panic he was feeling out of his voice. ‘Why isn’t my Inventory working?’ ‘It’s okay Steve.’ The Nightmare reassured, sensing Steve’s panic. ‘Your Nightmare Form just temporarily blocks access to your Inventory. Dispersing the Form will give you access again.’ Steve let out a relieved sigh. ‘That’s good. I was worried for a sec.’ ‘I know.’ Rolling his eyes with a grin, Steve closed his eyes and focused, taking a deep breath. “Nightmare Form.” The Crafter spoke aloud in a commanding voice. “Begone.” Not a moment later, the feeling of power left him, making him stagger slightly and fall to one knee. Panting slightly, he got back to his feet and looked himself over, satisfied to see that he was back to normal. D-Pad Left: Fishing Rod Reaching over his shoulder, he was elated when his hand grasped the wooden handle of his fishing rod. Pulling it out, he took a moment to inspect the tool before looking back up at the stone ledge. X (Hold): Rod Zip Pulling back his arm, he clicked the release on the pole before whipping it forward, sending the hook and the line it was attached to, flying upwards. Luckily, the hook caught on the first try. Pulling hard to make sure it was secure, Steve began reeling himself in, walking up the cliff face with little issue. Upon getting closer to the ledge, he stopped for a moment when he heard talking. Reaffirming his grip, he stopped for a moment and listened in. “Well, I mean sure, but it could be worse.” Spoke a voice Steve recognized as Quip. “And how, exactly, could it be worse?” Vesper spoke, tone heavily laced with sarcasm. “Well, there’s a lot of ways. For example, we could-” “It was a rhetorical question Quip!” She shouted angrily. “Now will you shut up and help me!?” “Alright, alright. Geez. No need to be so angry.” Hoisting himself up onto the overhang, Steve couldn’t help but laugh when he saw that, while still tied together, the two changelings had managed to get themselves stuck in the hole he’d left in the cobblestone hut. At his laughter, both of their gazes shot to look at him, their blue eyes widening in surprise. “You’re alive!?” Vesper cried out in disbelief. Steve simply nodded. “Yeah. As you can see,” He spoke, gesturing to his slightly-battered body. “I’m still alive.” “How?” Steve shrugged. “Not sure really. Guess I’m just hard to kill.” Reaching over his shoulder, he withdrew his diamond pick-axe. “Anyway, I’m going to be taking that cobblestone back. Hold still.” Hefting the tool high, he slammed it down into the cobblestone, cracking it easily. Repeating the process, he eventually collected every block, leaving the tied-up changelings sitting on the ground. D-Pad Up: Sword Putting away the pick, Steve withdrew his sword and approached them. Vesper’s eyes widened and she started scooting away, taking Quip with her. “W-wait, don’t-!” Steve raised his blade. Vesper closed her eyes and turned away, preparing for the blow. Square: Slash Only, it never came. Instead, she felt a gust of air and the rope tying her fell away. Glancing down, her eyes widened when she saw that her bonds had been cut. She looked up to see Steve looking at her with a level expression. “Why are you-?” “Letting you go?” Steve finished, to which both changelings nodded. He sighed, glancing off to his right as he spoke. “Not sure, really. After what you’re colleagues pulled, there’s no reason for me to keep you alive, let alone let you go. But I was never one to punish people for the actions of others.” Vesper gaped at him in disbelief. “But, but, we hurt her. I was one of the drones that captured her.” Steve let a small smirk grace his lips. “And in return, you got beaten in a fight, tied up, lugged across the forest and stuck in a cobblestone hut for a while. I think you’re good.” A moment later, his grin fell and he gave both of them a serious look. “That being said, while I won’t hold what you did against you, should we meet again under similar circumstances, I won’t be held responsible for my actions. Understand?” Vesper and Quip both gulped, then nodded. Steve nodded in return. “Good.” Walking back to the edge, Steve grabbed his fishing rod, the hook still latched onto the overhang. However, he hesitated. After a few moments, he sighed and glanced back at the duo. “Look, despite what you may think, I don’t like fighting. I hope that the next time we meet, if we ever do, it’s under much more peaceful circumstances. Until then, goodbye.” And with that, he took a step forward and disappeared from their view. * * * * * Steve stepped past the wooden doorway, Zecora cradled in his arms. It was dark, a problem soon fixed as Steve withdrew a torch he’d picked up from the cave and placed it against the wall, leaving it stuck there. Placing the zebra on her bed, he gently walked back into her main room, where he winced slightly at how much of a mess it was. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his head as he looked over the clutter. “Geez, this place is a mess.” His gaze passed over the cauldron, which had been knocked onto its side. Broken glass and scattered herbs littered the floor, along with shards of wood from the destroyed cupboards. Her table and three chairs were broken into bits, along with the small desk drawer, where she kept some of her books, which had been filled with ancient recipes for potions and the like. Luckily, it seemed like the fight had only taken place in her front room and kitchen. Her bedroom, bathroom and storage room, while thoroughly ransacked, were mostly still intact. “The last thing she needs to see is her home destroyed when she wakes up.” Steve spoke quietly to himself. “She’s been through enough already.” ‘Shall we get to work then?’ Nightmare Steve asked. Steve nodded, pulling out his crafting table, which he always kept with him. ‘Yup. Let’s do this.’ * * * * * Steve groaned, laying back against the wall of his friend's home. “Finally!” He exclaimed in victory. “Done!” ‘Indeed. It looks quite nice, as well.’ Nightmare Steve commented. Nodding, the Crafter took another look at his work. The windows had been first. To make them, he’d grabbed some sand from nearby and smelted them in a furnace that he’d made from the cobblestone he had. Next was the cupboards. Now, since he had no idea on how to actually recreate the cupboard, he’d been forced to improvise. He’d made some wooden slabs and a couple trapdoors and placed them against the wall, testing the doors a few times to make sure they worked like they were supposed to. The table and chairs were easy, just a few fence posts and slabs for the table and a couple stair pieces for the chairs. They’d work until Zecora could find some actual chairs. He replaced the front door and put a simple chest where her desk drawer had been, placing her recipe books, which luckily hadn’t been damaged, on top. He crafted some of his spare glass into bottles to replace her broken ones and salvaged any herbs he could, which hadn’t been a lot, but it was something. Getting to his feet, Steve slowly walked over to Zecora’s room to check on her, finding that she was still unconscious. Sighing, he leaned against the doorway. ‘Hey Nightmare, do you know when she’ll wake up?’ ‘No. Due to her prolonged exposure, she may be out for a while before the effects wear off.’ ‘Damn.’ Steve spoke with a sigh, sliding down the door frame until he was sitting on the ground. ‘May as well wait for her to wake up, then.’ He reasoned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. ‘It’s not as if I’ve got anything planned for today, anyways.’ ‘Actually,’ Nightmare Steve spoke up. ‘If I remember correctly, Trench said he was going to be talking to Derpy today about what happened. Did you not want to help him with that?’ Silence for a moment. Then the Nightmare’s words finally sunk in. Steve’s eyes shot open. ‘Shit!’ Shooting to his feet, he ran through Zecora’s front room and out the door, slamming it closed behind him. Only to run back in, ripping a piece of paper out of his journal and quickly writing something down on it with his ink-tipped quill. Slipping the paper under the stack of recipe books, he ran out again, the door slamming behind him with a dull thunk. Soon, silence filled the hut once again.