Herobrine's Revenge (The Wielder Chronicles Book Two)

Chapter 22: Not An Option

Chapter 22: Not An Option

 

 

- Zach's POV -

(it's been a while)



That Saturday night, Nya didn't come back to the campus.

I knew I shouldn't be worrying, since I knew perfectly well that Nya could handle any malevolent situations she happened to get herself into very well. But every time I tried to drain my thoughts and get some well-needed sleep, my mind kept drifting to all the possibilities that explained Nya's absence. Maybe she got hurt? Maybe Clare was out on some hit-and-run rampage? Maybe she was stuck in a dark alleyway, calling out my name into the darkness...

I sat up almost immediately and grabbed a warm coat and an apple for Aslan. I left the room soundlessly and shut the door as quietly as possible, as not to wake up Vent and Ethan whose snores were filling the room. I snuck down the halls in a rush, thinking about any places Nya may be; the Park, the Market District; even her old apartment was on my mind.

I remembered Nya riding away on her white horse, waving to Emily as she went. Taking Aslan, who had eaten the apple gratefully, I followed the path she had taken down a straight lane that veered off onto several more streets. It was cold, but all that was bothering me was Nya gone. Nothing else mattered.


***


I had spent an hour searching through every park, every shop I knew Nya enjoyed. I was sitting on a wooden bench, gazing up at the hundreds; no, thousands of stars that stood out from their black backgrounding. But I couldn't focus on their beauty like I would any other night. Nya was still missing, and they spoiled any happy feelings I may have had.

Then I remembered I had forgotten to check Nya's family's home, something so completely and utterly obvious I wanted to punch myself in frustration and anger.

"Jeez, Zach." I muttered aloud, saddling up my midnight-coloured steed and racing down the Bloquearian streets like I have never raced before. Nya had to be there. She had to.

I pulled up outside the cozy looking house, and breathed a sigh of relief. Aphrodite, who was asleep on her feet, was sheltered under a tree, with the moon's shadows casting strange shapes on her pelt. I wiped off the sweat that had formed on the ride here, sweat that had been produced by my heart-wrenching fear something had happened to my Nya.

Not wanting to pry, I quietly began to head back towards the university. If anyone found out I had left, I would be in big; no, enormous trouble. I can imagine the types of punishments Mr Kingston would hand out; a hundred laps around the entire campus, countless muscle-tearing drills and maybe even being forced to make a speech about the importance of health and fitness in front of the entire university population. Not fun stuff.

Suddenly, Aslan reared up on his hind legs, almost throwing me off his back. I quickly got back up on my feet, not thinking about the buises I would have tomrrow. Aslan's panicked whines filled the quietness of the suburban streets, and I had to practically hold his jaws together so he would shut up. I started inspecting around for whatever made Aslan so annoyingly afraid. Then I saw it.

A body, covered in what looked from this distance as a black liquid, dark as coal. But once I ran closer, I realised it wasn't that at all. It was red, sticky blood, spilling onto the gravel road like a waterfall. I nearly threw up at the sight of it, and felt even worse when I figured out that they had been killed by a stab through the chest; suicide, maybe. They had stopped breathing.

Aslan started to whiny again and I hissed at him to be quiet. Picking up the body bridal style, I walked off the main road and onto the grassy nature strip beside it, where the lamp posts could shine clearly. I laid the body, of a girl, onto the ground. Then I nearly had a heart attack. I knew this girl.

I knew her face, her long brown hair. She was one of Nya's best friends. One of my own friends. Emily Day. My gut wrenched.

Her face was twisted in fear, and not the kind of fear you have if you wanted to kill yourself; but as if someone, something, that she had no control over, had terrified her. I looked away and pulled off the jacket I was wearing to hide her expression and fatal stab wound. Her face still lurked in my thoughts, and I put my head in my hands.

What was I going to do? Emily... Emily was so nice. Why couldn't it have been Herobrine lying on the ground dead instead of her? She and Nya had been so close, and it pained me to think of Nya's grief when she found out one of her best friends had been killed.

No... Murdered. You don't get wounds like that by accident.

I stood up shakily, and went over to the spot on the road where I - well, Aslan - had discovered her. It was sticky with blood, the bright red standing out against the grey of the gravel. Then I noticed something lying on the ground, stained with blood. It was a piece of paper; torn, red and with only one sentence written on it with carefully practiced cursive handwriting.


It has only just begun.



***



- Nya's POV -


My Sunday was spent reading and lounging around with Tali, and, surprisingly, not practicing swords with Zach as we had planned. Vent had come over in the morning, explaining that Zach had some "really, really, really important stuff going on at the moment," and that he couldn't train today. I shrugged it off; maybe he had school or family problems.

Hang on a second, I thought as I looked up from my (extremely interesting) book. I knew nothing, absolutely nothing, about Zach's family or past. Well, except that he's East Minecraftia's best swordsman, an amazing feat for someone of his youthful age. I made it a mental note to ask him about it when I saw him next.

The day went by in a blur, and before I knew it it was Monday morning and the stupid alarm on my clock when off loudly, like a firework. It woke up Emerald, too. And Clare.

I hurriedly got changed in the bathroom and brushed my hair out knotless. I wanted to avoid Clare as much as possible (I'm not being mean, I have very good reasons). When I stepped out of the bathroom, I was a little bit surprised to see Clare had already left (how she got ready for classes without the bathroom, I have no idea) but not at all shocked to see Emerald propped up on her bed, playing with some redstone dust. She'll be late, as always.

I waved goodbye and walked into the hall; only to be met face-to-face with Clare, her blue eyes gleaming. She smiled. "Hey, Nya? Want to walk to class together?"

I really wanted to say no, never, but recently Clare has been avoiding me, as I have been her, so there must be a reason why she chose to talk to be at this particular moment. I followed her to the direction of the Weaponry Wing, keeping a wary distance. This seemed funny to her, apparently.

"Wow, Nya!" She laughed. "It doesn't take a lot for you to completely forget a friendship, does it?"

I gritted my teeth in anger. I do not forget friendships. "'The Clare you knew is no more.' Sound familiar?"

"Of course." She looked up at me innocently, her eyes mocking and laced in sarcasm. Something the Clare I knew would never do. "I said it."

"What did you want to tell me?" I said, forcing my anger to remain under control.

"Don't be so distant, Nya! I mean, we are friends." She pulled a sickening puppy face. I stopped walking and glared at her.

"I was friends with Clare; not whoever you are." I say with clarity. This Clare was not the wallflower I had met in my first potions class. The girl with the clear blue eyes and sweet, genuine smile. Clare would never be mocking, or use sarcasm, or do anything evil. The dark-haired girl standing in front of me was the complete opposite.

"But I am myself. I am Clare Jones. My powers of a Wielder have given me a new outlook of everything; a much better idea of the world, if you ask me. Less painful. I owe that to Herobrine, and this is my way of paying the debt." She replied, continuing to stroll down the hall at a leisurely pace. I had frozen, my feet plastered to the oak floor, horror of what my friend had become. What I had let her become. If only I knew Herobrine had targeted her, if only I saw the signs...

"Oh, and Nya," She added over her shoulder. "Bring a box of tissues for the assembly at 11." Then she disappeared, turning a corner. What was she on about, assembly at 11? We rarely had assemblies, especially ones at eleven in the morning. Those usually meant special occasions. This cannot be good.


***


~~ 11 O'CLOCK ~~

- Nya's POV -


The entire university had been called to the Arena, and the noise of everyone's individual conversations was deafening. I was sitting next to Gemma, and both Ethan and Vent sat behind us in the Colosseum-like structure. Zach, I realised with a sinking feeling in my stomach, was absent. The teachers were all lined up behind the acacia wood podium. That was also strange; acacia wood was usually represented mourning and loss.

The teachers were dressed in black. Mr Slayer, my Archery Professor and the best public speaker of the teachers stood behind the orangey wood, his face a mask of grimness. Then he coughed, the architecture of the Arena meaning sound travelled faster and louder around the stadium. He got every student's attention.

"Now, you're probably wondering why we called you here on a Monday morning," Begun Mr Slayer. "The truth is, we have some saddening news to share to you all."

He took a deep breath. It was very odd to see Mr Slayer look upset. "One of our students was found...deceased...last night on Blankite Street. Her name was Emily Day."

There were gasps all around the auditorium, and every one of the previous chatty voices became quiet, as if the world were on mute. I felt numb. Numb with shock. Then the realisation really kicked in.

Emily was dead.

I made an ugly sobbing sound from the back of my throat. Gemma had her hand clamped over her mouth. Even Gemma, the most calculating person I know, didn't see that announcement coming.

Emily. I remembered when we all went to the park, countless times, and played football with a ball of clay. I remembered how Emily would pout whenever she missed a point or the other team scored. Her habit of double checking everything before she made her next move, her curly brown hair and the light in her eyes whenever she laughed. I remembered Emily. Everything we ever did together, every moment of time we spent enjoying ourselves or working hard in class. I felt dizzy and sick and and frankly like I was going to collapse at any moment. Maybe they're lying, maybe they're wrong and Emily's heart is still beating, swift and strong. Maybe I'll see her during potions class in an hour. I have never hoped for something so badly.

My knees gave way and I fell to the floor in a sobbing heap. I'm such a weak person, damn it. My mind flashed back to the last time I saw Emily, living and breathing, happy and care-free. I had waved to her as I rode back home. Her face had been smiling.

"The exact cause of her death is unknown, but it is suspected to be suicide. She died late last night. We got the news this morning, and her family have been informed about this tragedy." Mr Slayer continued. The Arena seemed darker, gloomier, sadder, as if all the energy and happiness had been drained from the crowd of people assembled.

"Bring a box of tissues for the assembly at 11."

Clare had known. She had known that Emily was dead before anyone else. She knew there would be an assembly at 11 for it, just like all 'special' occasions. The university would never leak information about a student's death before it had been announced, and they only found out about it this morning. Maybe it was Clare...

"A funeral for relatives and close friends will be held tomorrow. We send them all our best wishes, and mourn for their loss." Mr Slayer spoke clearly, sadly. "That is all."

Each student picked themselves up from their seats, their expressions dark. They left in soundless order, residing to either their dorm rooms, or classes. I followed blindly, like a sheep, my arm around a sobbing Gemma. I felt numb all over, my movements mechanical.

I felt a gaze burning into my back, and I turned my head around to meet it. It was Clare, her navy blue contact lenses hiding her eye's true colour. She was smirking, and her face was streaked with tears I knew were fake. Then she winked at me, smiling, and walked away, into the hustling crowd.

I felt a burning rage, stronger than anything I had ever felt before bubble up inside me. Clare had done this. She ended Emily's life. She was her murderer.

I will never, never forgive her. Forgiveness is not an option.



--------------------------



A QUICK UPDATE FOR ONCE

This chapter is the result of many late nights :)

I was just thinking, imagine if you wrote a story and it had an entire fanbase and everything. People would have instagrams and tumblrs devoted to it, people would write fanfictions and fangirl... It would just be so awesome.

QOTD: What countries are you guys all from? I'm Australian :)

- Jazz