Cleansing Memories in Ғɪʀᴇ

[Chapter 7] Old Scars

HEADS UP: If you have bad experiences with fire and things like burning buildings and such distress you, please be very, very careful reading this chapter. I will be summarising it at the end for you if you are one of these people. Also, if it is you, please shoot me a private message.

For the rest of you, read on if you dare.

"You teach me fighting, but you talk about peace. How do you reconcile the two?"

~Unknown

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Herobrine had been given one of the many guest rooms in the castle until something more permanent could be given for his bedroom, since Notch was adamant of him having a room in the castle that belonged only to him, his reasoning being that "Even if you don't stay or just come and go, you've still got a place to crash, you know?"

Herobrine was, however, quite satisfied with his current room. It had a central space with dark grey carpet, a few wooden chairs with tall backs, a modest square table and a fireplace in the south wall, with a woodpile nestled in the wall beside it. A large window faced the sunrise with two red velvet curtains which could be drawn across it but now the window was wide open to the fresh air and the curtains were drawn back. As Herobrine walked through the door, he had a perfect view of the stars and the night sky. The moon was in its descending curve and some of the light shone through the open window.

The man stretched, closing and locking the door behind him. He went to the window and took a deep breath of the fresh air before shutting it, also locking it. Once, a lucky assassin had almost murdered him by sneaking in his open window and since then, he always made sure they were all closed and locked. His bedroom was a curtained-off room to the side which only had a small bed and another window, also facing east.

His sheathed sword went up against the wall near his bed and after getting changed, he flopped onto the mattress and pulled the sheets over himself (closing the window of course). The constant training with the sorcerers during the day and then with Steve at night left him tired and drained, but on the plus side, he was becoming very fit very quickly. He shut his eyes and let his mind tick into sleep.

Herobrine often had dreams, just as most people do. But in most of his dreams, his mind recounted old battles and duels, all with that strange it-makes-sense-when-you're-dreaming-but-afterwards-it's-weird veil covering it. So tonight, as soon as he closed his eyes, Herobrine wasn't surprised to find himself back in the Great Hall of the castle, fighting for his life as Entity's blade spat like a viper's tongue.

No, not this one, Herobrine desperately thought to himself as he evaded Entity's blade and jumped over the wall of fire, the beginnings of fear coursing though him. This dream always ended in a nightmare, with the stone covering up his mouth and nose and eyes, suffocating him. But years of training was on his side; he knew how to manipulate his dreams. He spun around and saw a door set a metre above the floor in the wall to the left. He sprinted towards it, slamming his shoulder into it to force it open. He stumbled through, landing in the centre street.

Fire.

It raced up the buildings on either side of him, spitting through windows and reaching up to the sky as roofs collapsed. He imagined he could feel the heat burning his skin and cracking his lips. He saw people running every way, their faces recognisable but blurred, as it is in dreams. They pushed him, heedless of any reasoning. He stumbled, barely able to keep his feet so he started running too. He ran down the street, heading for the wide open and burning gate he saw an impossible distance away. He didn't want to look back, but he was forced to against his will.

The castle was burning; flames that burned yellow and orange, fed by tapestries, carpets and a mountain of wooden furniture. It poured out of windows and out of doors, distorting the appearance of the castle so that it looked like a huge face with burning eyes and tongue, leering down at him.

He turned and ran, jostled by the crowds. Children fell down around him and without thinking, he pulled them back up, urging them to flee. Burning leaves fluttered through the air around him, the fire seemed to be growing fiercer and hungrier and louder. It roared out onto the street, encircling him, burning his skin until it was black, charring his shirt, consuming his oxygen-

Herobrine bolted up in bed, taking deep, ragged breaths, eyes wildly looking around his room, heart thumping so loudly he was sure that someone standing outside of his room would be able to hear it. The room was silent and the sky outside was dark. The moon must have set; he'd been asleep for some hours. His shirt was sweaty and stuck to him and so did the sheets when he tried to get out of bed. His legs were shaking almost as violently as his arms. He fumbled with the latch on his window and finally pushed it open, taking deep breaths of the cold night air that stung his skin.

He could see the village that was scattered about the castle. The world was quiet below him except for the crisp flapping of bat wings. The only light came from the low-burning torches that lined the streets. There was no raging fire. There was no one screaming. He looked at his arms. Pale although now turning slightly tanned. Shaky. A few freckles. No burns, no blackened skin. He ran a hand through his hair, leaning on the window sill with his arms crossed.

"Just a nightmare," he whispered to the night. "Nothing else, just a nightmare."

He looked out again at the dark streets, though it was impossible to see anything. It was just a nightmare, he knew that.

"So why did it feel so real?" he asked himself. Some instinct told him that it was familiar too, but now that his heart rate was slowing and the adrenaline was leaving his system, the sleepiness from before was coming back. He took his arms off the window sill and closed the window. He changed his shirt and climbed back into bed, looking out the window at the night sky. It took him longer to get back to sleep.

Hello, welcome, it is safe now.

Summary of the chapter: Herobrine's room is plain but it's great, he loves the windows. He goes to sleep and has dreams as per usual, except this time it turns into a nightmare involving fire and buildings. He wakes up, sweaty and panicy and tells himself that it's just a nightmare but it felt very real.

So what do ya think?