Protectors Are For Weaklings (Completed)

Herobrine

I look up at the ceiling, the ceiling just high enough for two-block creatures. Water occasionally drips, the drops falling gently on my face every time I look up. Phase probably had to go through a lot more than I have to now, I think as I close my eyes, not wanting to see Markus's sick smile any longer. I just have to hold myself together for the moment...

"Until what?" He finally asks. I've been practically waiting for him to talk to me since I was thrown in here, waiting for that moment that marked him as abnormal as me. "You know what, listening to your thoughts is more entertaining than this, because you actually think that somebody will come to rescue you!"

I know that you can't stand any bystanders standing in the way and getting hurt. Release Phase and Amara in return of knowing soundly that your prey won't escape your hands this time, I think again, not caring to even say the words aloud. It is a bit daunting to call myself prey, as the things I say tend to hold true in the future.

Probably noticing my literal second thoughts, Markus slams down a dagger, and I open my eyes in surprise from the sudden sound. This dagger is different than the one that earned myself an array of cuts ranging from small stabs to nearly block-size cuts. No, this one is definitely not the same blade. A single colour-changing pixel floats down across the room, the only sign it's giving that the magic within it is enough to kill a Marked. It finally settles on the colour black before resting on my arm. I half expect it to kill me, but I know that is ridiculous. Markus will surely want a public execution, him finally earning that extra bit of fame he's been chasing for years.

A little bit of a sting is all that occurs. It pops a few seconds later, leaving no trace of its precarious path. You haven't answered my offer. I swear to you that I will stay here.

I'm not sure if Markus is hesitating because it sounds like bluff to him, or because it is something else. A moment later, he laughs, and I must have given some thought away that I don't understand what that was for, as he explains in a fluster. "Earlier, one of my guards caught a pair of sorcerers. Now, if you thought that they were enough to rival my own magic, you must be losing your touch."

- - -

Every Minecraftian has the opportunity to learn magic. Some are stronger in the forces than others, thus we have a mix of sorcerers and regular people, doing whatever it takes to make a living. Others just don't have that spark at all, which is extremely rare, and then there's "people" like me. I had my magic ability taken away by Markus when I got banished, as it was a tradition, and that stupid "tradition" is probably still in place. Okay, fine with that. I never really had the need to use it before. But when Markus took my magic as his own (which is a very sneaky move by the way), that was when he crossed the line.

My chains hold me from teleporting. Phase's... his probably keeps him from changing back to his Enderman form, rendering his unable to teleport as well. Two zombies with one arrow, in other words. Amara's is normal. She might not even be in chains, as Markus's cruelty doesn't extend to that.

A crash suddenly goes, the sounds of iron buckets and probably extra torture swords ricocheting off the thick stone walls before the sound reaches me. The commotion could have been from the kitchen for all I know, since I am underground, and can practically hear everything up on the first floor. A little bit of soundproofing is between me and the first floor, but it doesn't do much for me rather a normal Minecraftian.

"Find him!" A single pair of shoes clatter against the ground, and I have pity for whoever "him" is. Maybe he will be in the cell next to me when he gets caught. Then, I realize that the clattering is becoming relatively closer to my cell until-