Protectors Are For Weaklings (Completed)

Phase

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Bits and pieces of the dream surface to reality, making me bitterly aware of how far away Amara probably was. Over the past few years, it became hard to not think of her as my own daughter. It was that dream again, except with so many twists... Raven has been there before, but why the Nether was Amara there? Barely thinking about it, I just dismiss it as blissful hopes.

Where have I went wrong? It was going smoothly - everything was going fine. I guess I was stupid enough to think Markus wouldn't see through to me.

A flutter of a cloak. A brushing of his tail. A scraping of his shoes. Really, there's virtually no warning of Ethan's strikingly frequent visits now. An intake of breath alerts me this time to another one of his taunts.

"How are you coping with your... Difference?" Ethan mockingly laughs. I can't see him yet, but I'm sure he's just around the corner. Without replying, I try not to look over at the one spot of this misery where all hell broke lose. I thought you were one of the better ones... What happened?

Blood still covers it - a wound that will never heal properly, to be what it was once before.

Ethan seems to relish my lack of a reply. "I never did tell you why I never favoured Herobrine, did I?" I don't dare say anything else to him. Now that I think of it, I haven't said anything since his blade met my wrist.

"No, of course I hadn't. Before, I had wanted to give an impression that I was on your side." It is disorientating sometimes to see him cock his head like that. The way he does it makes it look like something only an innocent puppy would do. Maybe he's never grown out of being a pup, I think, still not showing any sign of being, frankly, alive.

"I'm sure you've heard of the tale of those blasted three blades." A sudden image flashes in my mind. Of course. It is unusual of him to think of them particularly as blasted, though. A tale is told of a wizard and his apprentice. Both were killed in the making of three blades able to kill a Marked, but the blades were still floating around aimlessly. No one exactly knows for certain where they are, or who holds possession over them.

"No one has ever questioned who the apprentice was. Legend says the apprentice killed his master before he even died by one of the Marked..."

I finally have had enough. "What does any of this have to do with you or I?"

Ethan stares blankly at me for a moment. Then he seemingly gathers his bearings. "Everything. Phase, I don't hate you as much as Herobrine, so I think I'll have to tell you the whole tale. Herobrine himself doesn't know what he had done; if only he hadn't interfered..."

Anger surges through me. "What do you mean, he interfered?"

Ethan casts a bored look at me. "Alec too, for that matter..."

I slump back down, expecting him to start rambling about nothing. "Surely, Phase, you would know of what happened on that day?"

I don't reply. Herobrine has never said anything about it in detail, and I never have said anything about the second Enderdragon's downfall. It was an unspoken deal, really. Now, of course, the last time I ever had a good chance to talk to him was forever ago...