Hero's Bane

Chapter 13: With Eyes of White

Steve couldn't see or hear anything, he felt as though he had been draped by warm soothing blackness that gave him reassurance of safety and comfort. It was... peaceful. There wasn't any pain or fear, just the soft darkness cradling him into a relaxing state. Everything seemed quiet and remained calm for quite some time until a barely audible voice wormed it's way through his consciousness, it seemed rather strange considering the accent was more different then he was used to hearing. The muffled words slowly grew louder and louder and the warm darkness began to fade, the pain started to flood his limbs and upper chest.

"Wow! This is absolutely stupendous!"

Steve's head tilted to the side where the voice came from and he partially opened his eyes to see an old man sitting at a desk with his back to him, the small table was lined with papers, scrolls, books and some strange fabric. The elderly man giddily examined the robe and adjusted his glasses, he had short silver hair that swept off to one side with Victorian style clothing, so old fashioned. Who was this guy the miner wondered as he watched the man stare in awe at the cloth.

"This is robe is quite peculiar, perhaps one from the royal family, yes?" He quietly asked himself while turning the fabric around to view the golden insignia.

That insignia... it was recognizable and the first thing that came to Steve's mind was the little boy named Connor; who had adorned the exact same symbol with the same colors of navy and yellow gold.

"Hmmmmhhhaaahhh." Steve lightly groaned as he moved to sit upright, his entire body ached greatly and he fell back onto the soft surface. He opened his eyes more to find himself on a bed with a couple of covers laying over him and a nice fluffy pillow supporting his sore neck. He tried to lift himself up again and hissed in pain once he sat straight up.

The old man quickly removed his attention from the mantle and shot up and out of his chair and rushed over to the pained guy, he held his hands out with an expression of caution. "Careful there, your not in any condition to strain yourself." He gently grabbed Steve's shoulders and lightly pressed the miner to lay in bed. "You need to rest."

"Where ...am... I?" He muttered while glancing around carefully. He appeared to be in a dim one-room house about six blocks length and width wise and three blocks high at most. There was one bright wax candle sitting on top of the desk and only one illuminated lantern hanging from the ceiling by the only window near the door. There was only room for one bed and little space to move around in with the desk and a few bookshelves close to the exit. The shelter was small, but pleasantly warm too.

"No place safe, unfortunately." The elderly man walked back over his desk and searched through a chest on the side of it, he fiddled around with what sounded like glass bottles and pulled up a vile filled with a dark red liquid. He carefully lifted it up to read a small label then stepped back over to the miner, he popped the cap and held it out for Steve to take. "Here, drink this."

Steve wasn't sure if taking the fluid from a stranger was a good idea, but he reached for it anyways and gripped onto the glass bottle, he was almost too thirsty to care what it was. The old man seemed fairly kind and trusting, letting him use the guy's bed.

How was he even alive? How was the old geezer alive? Things weren't adding up.

"Drink it all, it will surely help you heal faster and it may even restore some strength. It's quite potent and the taste and smell might be acrid but it's really helpful, that I assure you. I've had some plenty of times myself over the years, it may taste a little tart- like an unripe melon."

The smell it had was indeed horrid but the miner decided to trust in the old man, he seemed friendly enough with good intentions. Though- he couldn't be sure if he was in a dream again, he thought no humans could live inside this land unless he was no longer in the ancient valley. Herobrine was supposed to secure that, or so he thought. Steve took a large swig and almost immediately spat it up, he fought his gag reflexes and managed to hold his mouth close and swallow down the revolting liquid. "It's extremely bitter." He choked while patting his chest, really wishing he didn't drink it. It left a nasty taste in his mouth and sort of burned on the way down."