🔮Enderborn: The Tales of Finera Notas [🌏A Minecraft Story]

Chapter 1: The Incident

Who am I?

Not many people have a list to council when they are answered that question, but I do.

Take your pick; Autumn Fin, The Reject, Leonda, The Soul Reviver, Enderess, whatever catches your fancy.

But my real name is Finera Notas, and this is my story...

“Good night mother!” I shouted down our spiral staircase. “Don’t forget to lock the trapdoor to the roof!” she called back.

“Ok” I yelled back. Duh I said to myself rolling my eyes. Like in the fourteen years of my life I would forget to lock the trapdoor. It’s not like there weren’t spiders everywhere.

I fell face-first onto my bed growling into the pillow. I flipped onto my side my tinted black hair tickling my nose. I sighed and fell asleep.

I woke to the sound of crashing thunder. I jolted upright to find myself no longer in my bed but on the roof!

What?!

“MOTHER!” I screamed, utterly terrified, I went over to the trapdoor, it was locked!

Duh I locked it myself. Then how in the Nether did I get up here?

“MOM!” I screamed again, the formal title I normally used being discarded in panic. With a crash thunder once again emphasized my cries.

“Finera!?” My mother’s voice called from the other side of the door. I could hear the sculling of spiders across the roof, getting closer.

“MOM! I DON’T HAVE MY SWORD! HURRY!”

It opened and my mother quickly pulled me inside. Where I fell into her arms and sobbed. I had never liked the thunder or storms to begin with but the whole situation itself was scary.

“Mother, what happened? How- how did I get up there?” She pulled me close.

“I don't know sweetie.” I didn’t know it then, but she knew exactly what had happened. “...but it won’t happen again ok? I promise I’ll never let you be alone like that again.” She was right, it never did happen again while she was there.

But that was two years ago, just one week before mother got ill. After that all of our sword sessions, archery games and horse races stopped after that.

I had to take care of her. For a year she was sick unable to do anything, and from the beginning it seemed as if she never believed she would get better.

Well she was right.

Just three days after my fifteenth birthday, she died... breaking her promise to me all those years ago, and leaving me all alone.