The Withered Rose

Chapter 6 - The Druid's Clearing

     Herobrine reappeared once more, this time feeling greatly wounded from the exertion of the teleport. Around him, the thick trees of a lush forest glowed with soft golden light from the rising sun behind them- not far ahead, the ruins of a small, vine-entwined building lay waiting.

"I know you love places like this, Yazmyne," Herobrine spoke tenderly, pulling out the withered rose from the safety of his jacket. Being indestructable, it had not been marred from the blood and lightning.

"As much as I wish I could carry you with me, just as you carried this rose, I know that there is no safer place for you to rest. Nor one more beautiful."

Holding the rose softly, as if he were holding her again, he carefully walked to the stone ruins. When he was about ten feet away, he stopped and gazed at the trees.

"I know you're here," he spoke calmly, "I have great need of your help."

A few moments passed- then, from within the forest, four mysterious hooded figures materialized.

"What is it that you desire, white-eyed one?"

"Protection for a memorial," Herobrine replied, as calm as could be, "I have lost my wife today...and she was no ordinary person."

"All who love, consider those they love to be different from all others," they spoke in unison, their strangely gentle male tones combining.

"What is it that seperates her from another of the fallen?"

"She was my Queen," Herobrine replied, trying to keep back his tears again, "My love...my only true love, and now that she's gone, I have nothing truly left. I do not care if I rule the world, if I must do it alone- she has shown me the beauty of life, shown me that I indeed was not the darkness, but the world we survive in is the dark, and we are merely shadowed wanderers....wanderers, who never have to be alone. She was my light, a light that should have stayed lit, stayed protected by every bit of strength in my being...but that light was snuffed out by yet another wicked soul that gives the darkness the reputation it has been stained with. And that's....that's...why...."

Herobrine could not hold in the emotions swirling inside him. He soundlessly cried, as the hooded figures watched his tears fall. It was clear to them that this white-eyed man had suffered a loss too great for him to bear.

"We know who she was. We have watched from unseen places for centuries, and seen the injustice and pain of those who are undeserving of their fates."

He looked up to see that the figures were now nearer to him, the four mysterious speakers clothed in muted-color robes.

"Will....will you please protect her?"

"We shall."

"The enemy has deprived me of even having a body to bury," Herobrine mourned, still holding the rose, "but I have something of hers which meant a great deal to us both. It makes it feel as if she's....as if she's still here, in my arms."

Herobrine extended the rose to the figures, wishing he did not have to part with it, but knowing it was for the best.

"Indeed, her essence still lies within this noble flower," the figures replied, gently levitating it from his hand, "We are protectors of the pained, guardians of the fallen...and we will make certain that this rose is safe here forever."

"Thank you," Herobrine sobbed with genuine gratitude, "...thank you..."

He watched as the figures moved over to the small ruin, placing the rose in the middle of a small pedestal at the center. It levitated upward, a beautiful crystal cube forming itself around it- the figures then retracted, stretching their hands upward at each corner of the small ruin. At once, white-flowered vines grew up over the structure and created an intricately-woven shield over it all, fully protecting the precious item.

The figures nodded to him, before disappearing once more. Herobrine knew that they would forever watch over the withered rose, and now Yazmyne would have peace and safety in a place just like the old buildings she had always loved.

With tears in his eyes, Herobrine turned from the memorial and began to make his way out of the forest. Now that he had secured a proper memory of her, to stand forever, it was time for the next part in Herobrine's plans.

"Its time to get justice for you, my love," he whispered, as if Yazmyne were there beside him still, "I will not sleep, I will not rest....until you are avenged."
As he walked, he closed his eyes. He felt something deep, deep within him....that anger again, like he had with the look he had given that had frightened Predator- all the sorrow within him suddenly metamorphed into the burning heat of utter rage; rage, at the final enemy he knew was left standing...

"I'm coming for you, Steven."

                                                       .........................................................................

Steve found himself alone, having reached the outer part of the enormously thick forest surrounding the late Notch's base. He was walking aimlessly, almost stumbling from weariness- he had been running from the moment he had stabbed Yazmyne, running like the coward he knew he was; and all the while, he still carried the bulky sword that had caused such tragedy.

"Notch wasn't there," he mumbled, "He's always there. He always comes out to face Herobrine, even if its after a while...he always comes....why not then? Why?"

Steve's steps became slower. He would have kept going, would have kept running, but the weariness got the better of him. He sat down against a tree, unsheathing the sword just in case.

"He saw me. Herobrine saw me, specifically me, killing her...if he's already killed Notch, there's no way I'd survive. No way, no way...."

Fear struck him deep inside- he knew that his only hope of survival would be in staying hidden, and keeping that sword on him at all times in case Herobrine found him.

"I have the sword. I have the sword...I used it once, I can use it again. I just need to stay calm, find a safe place to hide....and pray he doesn't find me."

Speaking his thoughts out loud was something Steve always did when he was particularly afraid or nervous- but now, his eyes felt heavy, and his fear gave away to the desire for sleep.

Just a few hours, he thought.

I'll be safe here for just a few hours...I'll find a better place to hide later....

His eyes closed. His body became limp as he sank into a deep sleep, sliding to the side just enough for the sword to slide from his hands onto the ground.