Behind the Legends

Wither Away

          He sprinted across the plains as fast as he could, his hard, solid legs crushing grass and flowers in his path. A light clinking like sound could be heard as he ran, which wasn't much of a surprise, being a skeleton and all. A wither skeleton to be more exact, even if he didn't fully look the part. About a week ago, in a fight against the Balancers his master had told him about, one had blasted a fire plume at him, which had connected with his face, burning the charred outer layer of the bones off, giving him an odd scar like patch of his face that was the color of normal bones. After that, Dread Lord, Entity 404, and him had retreated, not having much confidence in the three v five fight they had found themselves in. Their master hadn't been very happy... ok, very not happy. The whole ordeal had made him really question what he was doing. This had been what he had been created for, being a Hunter. But was that all he could be? He needed to figure things out on his own. Which is why he was running away; and why his master was hot on heels. 

          After a bit, he spotted the thing he had remembered from their previous retreat. He changed his direction and slid to a stop in front of the ruined Nether portal. Without giving it a second thought, he lifted his hands, grit his teeth, and slowly began to force his hands closer together, their seeming to be some invisible force trying to keep them apart. Obsidian lifted out of the lava, the dark, purple blocks filling in the slots of the portal that had collapsed over the decades. He panted, out of breath as the blocks all seemingly formed together, and he finally slammed his hands closed, the portal igniting with the sound of shattering glass. He didn't have to to rest from the strain of his actions had caused. He jumped over the lava, landed on the stairs, and dived through the portal.

          On the other side, he landed in a roll on the hot, netherrack floor and kept on running, not bothering to break the portal. With it open on the other end, even if this one was broken a new one would spawn just a few blocks away. All that mattered was getting away. Was that even possible? Was escaping from a fallen Creator possible for someone like him? He was too lost in through and tripped over some crimson vines, staggering for a moment before forcing himself to keep going. 

          He was lucky, seeing as he did blend in even a small amount to his surroundings, sprinting through the Crimson Forest. For one, hos body was shades of gray and black, and the Nether was pretty full of darker colors. What little he had on was rough, crimson colored leather armoring, given and forged by his master. At first, he had seen it as a sign that he cared. Now he just knew he didn't want his Hunters falling too easily. His back eyes with red pupils darted about, looking for anywhere to go. But there was nothing... nothing but crimson fungi and trees. He knew if he was caught, his chaser would not show mercy. He didn't even want to think of what would be done to him... but he couldn't keep running, he already had been for nearly a day. Despite the far, he collapsed to his knees, sliding a bit and catching himself with his arms on the ground. Just as he had given up hope of freedom... he heard a voice.

          "Who the heck are you." A rough, commanding voice spoke. He lifted his head up slowly and saw another skeleton... would that sort looked like Dread Lord, actually. This skeleton was the color of a normal one, garbed in purple robes with fine gold detailing, with singes on the garment here and there. He had a golden crown with what seemed to be an emerald of sorts imbued to the front of it, and overall had a great deal of authority about him. In his hand was a staff like weapon, being made out of some sort of dark gray metal, with a bright orange orb hover in its curved end. "I asked you a question! Speak, unless you're a speechless moron! I thought only Ender Beings could be this dumb!" That was harsh, and that was saying something, with all that he had heard. It took him a moment to get his voice. 

          "My names... DeadBone." He finally said, still down on his hands and knees. He was a bit confused, seeing as his master hadn't run up and stabbed him in the back. Surely, he hadn't been that far behind, right?

          "Well, DeadBone. You're coming with me." The other skeleton confirmed, confusing DeadBone even more. He was lifted by his arm, and then told to follow behind him as he was spoken to. "I can see you know to bow to me, so that's a good start. I don't need any more guardians that have big heads, Commander Pork is already EXASPERATING and-" as he continued to listen and walk, he looked back over his shoulder, a cold well of fear filling his chest. Far behind, in the clearing where he had met this fellow skeleton, stood his master. With the dark blue pants, light blue shirt, brown hair and glowing white eyes... he wasn't giving chance, which was odd. He just stood there, watching the two of them leave. After a moment, he turned around, and disappeared into the Crismon foliage. DeadBone turned back around, letting out a long, deep beath as the other kept angrily rambling on about someone named Netherrack Steve. He was free now... he had escaped the hunters... his life was in his hands... at last.