Book 2: Chapter Six

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Nova looked over the battlefield and grimaced.

Hundreds of items were scattered over it. Most of them were from the slain undead that had attacked the camp, but there was more than an acceptable amount of Emmiti gear that lay in a disorganized mess. Some workers were among them, collecting all of the gear to be hurled into a lava pool. It was a sacred rite for the dead among the Emmiti, and besides, nobody would want to wear the gear of a fallen soldier.

Nova didn’t have time to worry about the soldiers, though, even if she wanted to spend hours mourning each of their lives.

She was looking for someone in particular.

Everen.

She picked her way through an ankle-high pile of rotten flesh and looked around.

Although the workers had looked for the people that were wounded before anything else, she refused to accept that Everen was dead. He couldn’t be. He had to be somewhere - lying down and breathing in lungfuls of oxygen after the hours of the battle in exhaustion. Even if it had been three days after the attack. Or perhaps he was seriously wounded, covered in the items of his fallen comrades. Even if he was mortally wounded, afflicted by the curses that the Ghouls caused with their touch, he was still curable. He would be alive.

She suddenly spotted his coat-of-arms on a shield. Every person in the Emmiti clan had a coat-of-arms, a sign of the fact that they were now part of the clan. It always had several runes explaining their family, but always a green leaf that was enchanted onto the shield that was from their Father Tree - a massive tree that was located inside the fortress. It barred access from any monster unless invited inside.

She sprinted towards his shield, ignoring the fact that she was kicking aside the chestplates of fallen soldiers. It was a sacrilege to do so, but she completely forgot about her teachings to get to her best friend more quickly.

Nova appeared beside Everen, face drawn in worry. She was completely surprised at the fact that he was alive, and she wasn’t losing him now.

“I need a healer!” she shouted.

Everen looked at her with dull eyes. They were devoid of any warmth, compassion, or even recognition.

Suddenly, he seemed to remember her, little by little. A small spark in his eyes told her all she needed. He still had hope. He could survive.

“N-nova?” he asked, still expressionless. That was the effect of a curse that a Nethermancer must have cast on him. He could not move, but he could see and talk. Forgetfulness was also an effect, but her voice had most likely pierced it and he could recognize her.

“Everen,” she replied. Her eyes flickered from his face to the massive dent in his chestplate where the spell must have hit.

His eyes began to wander again, along with his voice.

“I feel… oblivion. It… scares me. But it… comforts me… all the same way,” he said. But his eyes began to focus again. He seemed to find extra reserves of energy and used it to talk.

“Nova. Don’t give up. Kill the Eyeless One. No matter what…” his voice began to drop at the last moment and she knew his demise was nearing.

“Kill… Herobrine…” he said.

These marked his final words as he slowly faded away from the Overworld to the 99th dimension.

Tears streamed down Nova’s face as she grabbed his hand. But it evaporated into smoke with the rest of his body.

“May he find strength to complete his trials and enter the Fields of Joy. May he rest in peace,” a voice suddenly sounded behind her. She turned to see an old healer with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

“He didn’t need to die! He could have stayed behind the ranks while our army dealt with them,” she shouted.

“Yet he joined the ranks. He obeyed a sarge and he met his fate. And you must meet yours,” the healer added. He looked down. “Sorry, my lady. I didn’t mean to insult you like that.”

“It’s fine. You don’t need to call me by that title - with the hierarchy of the Emmiti ruined, I cannot claim the title as my own. Our own leader is wounded, along with several of his officers. Our clan may be destroyed.”

Nova was a noblewoman, despite her young age. When she was only five, she had fended off a company of zombies from the Master Blacksmith, who had been caught in an ambush and was going to be dragged back to Herobrine.

But now, there was nothing for her here. Emmiti would probably never recover from the massive blow from the monster army. The life as a noblewoman used to be prestigious, as there were high stats required to even begin training with a teacher at the clan. The clan was one of the richest in the Northwood and most likely in Ravensong Forest as well.

But it would now most likely accept the lowliest of recruits to recover. And when that happens, she knew that it would be a stain in the glorious lore that told the story of the Emmiti. The Father Tree himself would have tears sliding down his bark. Every tear represented a lost life of a clan member, and the carnage that had ensued three days ago was nothing to laugh at.

She decided the only course of action that she could use. The promise that Everen wanted her to make.

She stood above his silver armor and sword.

She drew her own sword above his armor.

“From this day on, I will not rest until I kill the Eyeless One. I swear upon my soul that I will avenge your death, to free you from the pain that you must endure until he is dead. I swear that Herobrine will fall upon my sword, or that of one of my comrade’s.”

She hadn’t expected much after taking the sacred oath, but a massive voice boomed across her mind, reverberating.

*Then head to the heart of Ravensong Forest, Nova Lightshard, for you will begin your first step to destiny from there. I bestow upon you the gift of Greater Agility. May it serve you well. Good luck.*

From that moment, she knew without a doubt that Everen would be avenged, with her sword embedded deep inside Herobrine’s cold heart. She could not fail.

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