Protectors Are For Weaklings (Completed)

Herobrine

Everything is black. Black is now defined in a completely new way: your everything. For a little while, anyway. Then the real dreams, that I regularly call as curses emerge.

The first one flicks by as a past victim, one that I can barely remember, but I can enough to know that his name was Quentin. My dreams are more vivid than a normal player's. He had a family. Almost like all of the likes of them. This dream is different... This time I am overlooking the scene, as if my monster was doing a warm-up. How I wish that they were all like this.

All of them were pointless. All of them could have been stopped.

Agony starts to kick in, as the previous dream ends. I seemingly can't reach for the name, but now I am somehow the victim, and I see a past me holding out the weapon, the same expression held as every time I'm forced to do something I'm unwilling to. At least that one was quick.

The next infinity of scenes zoom by in a matter of minutes, or it could have been hours. Time seems to have lost its meaning. One time I am in a forest, the next I am in the searing hot desert.

In another one, this one time, it is not me brandishing the sword. No. Now, it is this... This ever-changing beast of colors that seemed to have no colors at all...

Abruptly, I wake up, except something else had pulled me awake, other than my monster thinking that I had had enough. Then, I hear it again. This time, though, it was the sound of the remains of someone's code teleporting away. Only I and one other person in the whole of this server could teleport, but I am not going to delve into that right now. He'd find you if I told you.

Sighing, I awkwardly push off the stairs that I had substituted as a couch in my frantic house building that had happened merely two sunrises ago. Trust me; I would have never been stupid enough to think that stone stairs would be comfortable enough if it weren't for my haste. I even had the house made as if it were made by a noob - the oak wooden planks were mix-matched with spruce and birch.

I look around. This place had been good enough to harbour me for two days, but if he had found me again, it was a good enough time to get moving.

I cautiously teleport to the lack of a front door. If you had the ability to teleport, you wouldn't need to have one, right? Right...

Soon it will be dawn, the tops of the trees of the forest nearby illuminated by the rising sun. Suddenly, I realize that it is raining. Out of habit, I wince, but I remember that it wouldn't hurt me if I stay out for a brief few minutes.

Nothing. Inside the house, it was too muffled to hear anything of peculiar noises, but outside, my coding to hear could hear much more than the average player could. Average. My equal is much above average.

Still poking around, I realize that he has in fact been in the area. I also have the ability to see the remnants of a player's nametag, regardless of the fact if he was sneaking or not. I immediately teleport to the last place he has been.

It led to another player's house. Frustrated, I realized that this house could have been hundreds of blocks away from my temporary one. Take it, take it.

What do you mean?

There had to be something here. I teleported to the nearest player in the area. And yes, that feature is quite handy when you have the need to scare someone off.

Do you believe what I found?

I had found a small child in a basket, also near a house. It wasn't raining here. I quickly saw a player looking out through a window, hoping to find an Enderman to slay, but found me, and quickly ducked behind the window again. Smirking, I look down at her again.

Later I found out that the house nearby had been abandoned. No wonder I was immediately led to the child instead of anyone else. Whoever left her here had left her to die... On the other hand, they could have had the intention for me to find it. Either way, they probably have the want for her to die.

Except, my monster is not in current possession of me, so they are dead wrong. Never would I be a hypocrite, and leave someone to die, when I had made a vow not to when he had left me to die.

Which you should know that that particular he should be Markus by now.

Whatever scum you guessed, it does not matter.

- - -

Alec was the last time I was given any responsibility. In addition, trust me, I had made terrible decisions then, thus my thinking that whoever had the thought to leave a trail to me thinking that she will be dead in no time at all would be not too far off from his mark.

Phase had already returned from whatever expedition he had made when I arrive. It was probably to go back to his real master, already known to you as the Enderdragon. Try as he might to say that he's completely loyal and fond of me, I still let him venture out to the End, and to possibly catch up with his family still there.

Phase is an Enderman. When I first found him (he insists to say that he's an "it", but I just won't have that), he had been kicked out from the old Enderdragon (that one was conquered, and it was a jackass anyway), left to rot somewhere out in the Void. Don't even get me started on how I ended up there...

"Hello?" Phase suddenly waves one of his long, black arms at me. Oops. Too much lost in thought. By the way, he actually speaks backwards, but I shall translate it for you. (No, I don't speak backwards myself! Which mod maker told you that?)

"Throw it at me," I say, feebly wondering when he had teleported here from the temporary "nursery" upstairs. Originally, there wasn't even an upstairs until today. The "nursery" was fully made up of spruce planks, as those were the only kind I had at the moment.

"Tell me again how you acquired this... fascination?" Growing up in the End, and only ever seeing other Endermen as a kid, Phase loves studying Minecraftians, especially the little kids.

"I told you already..." I start. "I thought I heard something funny, then I checked outside, and then on seeing that no one was there, I followed the most recent player that has been there. Then I found her."

"You don't suppose that..." Phase trails off. I hate it when he does that. It is as if he thinks he doesn't think of himself worthy to speak his thoughts. I further prompt him. "...That maybe the player that left her there had the intention of you finding her, but, perhaps not to kill her? I mean, the player that thinks you will kill anyone out of pure anger is pretty stupid."

Silence.

"Unless they thought that my monster would've gotten to her first."

- - -

That was two days ago. Phase and I were thinking of ways to keep whom I was beginning to call Amara out of harm's way. (I think the word "strong" in Standard Galactic is roughly translated to amara in English, but then again I could be wrong.) The Enderman generally thinks the name is, well, tresnak (nice).

Finally, we decided that we would need to build a larger, more permanent base for anything to work. (Phase once thought that I could be locked in a bedrock jail at night... but no. Just no.)

Now, I am hovering across what seems to be the best base/war fort I had ever seen in my life, back to where my brother had initially tossed me in to forget about me.

A/N

I dedicate this first chapter to cloudsdale2899 for the reason of the beginning being similarish to a small part of her series (if she even bothers to read all of this). Not implying that she's lazy... *coughs*.

Originally this chapter was going to be split into two parts, but that seemed too small so I switched stuff around a little bit. (1224 words, not counting this author's note.)