Look me in the Eyes

On Neutral Ground

Because of the recent events, Quinn, Rolburn and I decided to visit the Player's town sooner rather than later. So it was actually the day after Carter and the others had come by that we emerged from the house for the first time in months. The trees around us were vivid green and almost glowing in the morning light, the wind rustled through the branches and birds could be heard whistling and twittering nearby.

Quinn shut his gate, preventing hostile mobs from getting to his home, and we set off through the forest that surrounded us. The stream that ran to our right, flowing from the pond we lived on, trickled loudly over rocks and ran in rills and ripples around the base of the mountain we were going to be climbing. Rolburn, cloaked because it was spring and he was still cold, trotted ahead, always looking from side to side at the varying flowers that grew in random speckling clumps or at the nests of bees lodged against tree trunks. Quinn walked easily, seeming to relax in the light of the sun and the feel of the fresh-scented wind. I kept my eyes open, watching to see Rolburn didn't wander too far off. But the outside air and the dragon's breath-warmth of the sun that touched me was bringing back memories of my first days in this world, memories of when the light was peaceful and the birdsong brought delight. When my heart was lighter than the bees that alighted on the delicate flowers, and my hands were at peace with the earth. It was a strange feeling, remembering innocence.

We walked up the path that twisted and turned up into the mountainside, gradually coming to the pass Quinn called "Won Pass". The name sounded as though it belonged to another language, one even stranger than the one that Quinn spoke as a Player. Hamilton Town, where the Players met up and traded with each other, was supposedly just over this mountain, in a large clearing the Players had cut out of the forest. Quinn said it was the Stretched Forest. I pondered this, wondering why Players named the lands as though they owned them, but then remembered that places like the End and the Nether had been named by their inhabitants and we didn't own our lands either. We'd just lived there for hundreds of years, and the Players had lived here just as long. My conscience bothered me for a long time over that issue.

When we reached the top of the pass and looked down, there it was: an ordered collection of Player buildings connected by long lines of wooden planks. In the middle of the collection stood what looked like a large house, surrounded by a fence, where the small figures of villagers could be made out pacing and standing in small groups. Torches flared everywhere and a long fence enclosed the town, making it more difficult for mobs to get in. Quinn led the way down the path, beckoning us to follow.

The whole time now I was thinking of the Players and their promise not to hurt us. I was thinking of Quinn's words: "They'll hunt other mobs, just out of your sight." I was remembering the first Enderman's body I had seen, killed by a female Player so long ago. I was remembering Rolburn, the first time I met him, writhing and dying in the relentless sunlight of this world, trapped because of some Player. My heartbeat was fiercely swift by the time we found ourselves at the base of the mountain, and I was looking around to make sure no Players were around. Rolburn trotted ahead again, seemingly oblivious to danger, and laid his hand on the wooden fence. He didn't seem to know what to do with it.

Quinn opened the gate. "Come on, Rolburn, this way." He said. It took a few seconds for the Piglin to find his way through the gate(he kept bumping into its edges and misjudging his angle of approach), but when he got through, he immediately took hold of Quinn's hand and held out his other hand for me to hold. I teleported inside, disregarding the fence altogether, and obliged him. Whole though this one was, his grip still felt so frail in mine.

Going through the town was a tense experience on my part. For Players there were, walking in and out of buildings and trading with villagers. Carter actually seemed to be waiting for us by a house where the windows were filled with flowers. Beside him stood Karl, blue eyes turned elsewhere in remote interest. I nearly hung back, but remembered Rolburn and stepped forward, putting myself ahead of him.