Authors: Sean Fay Wolfe
As Caesar inspected the courtyard, he saw, to his delight, that the other fights were going equally well. The task force had never expected, and could never have prepared for, a fight against the best hand-to-hand combatants in the server. Several of the president's so-called “handpicked task force” had already fallen, and the remaining soldiers were quickly becoming overrun by the sheer number of tribesmen. Even that stupid brute Minotaurus was managing to be useful. He was engaging DieZombie97 with apparent ease, despite the
fact that the acclaimed Spleef champion was dual-wielding.
Caesar was beside himself. This operation had gone perfectly from start to finish, from the second Blackraven had told him about the incoming task force, to the battles that they were primed to win handily.
Pat yourself on the back, Caesar
, he thought with satisfaction.
You've done well.
The slam of a door behind Caesar snapped him out of his blissful train of thought. Caesar turned around, locked on the player in the doorway, and his eyes widened in surprise and ire.
“Leonidas? What are you doing . . . What in theâ”
Caesar was forced to dodge quickly to the side as an arrow flew from Leonidas's bow, coming within inches of Caesar's shoulder. Caesar whipped back with an iron sword drawn to face Leonidas, who had notched another arrow and was holding it steady.
“What do you think you're doing? Have you gone mad, man?”
“No,” replied Leonidas. His tone was merciless and his eyes cold, dark, and furious. “I came to my senses.”
And with that, a flurry of arrows began to fly from Leonidas's bow, straight at a terrified Caesar.
“You seem . . . surprised . . . to see me . . . Stan,” said Blackraven almost casually as he swung his diamond sword back
and forth. The hint of demonic pleasure in his voice as he spoke was what finally snapped Stan out of his stupor and allowed him to speak.
“So . . . so . . . it's you?” Stan said, not believing what was coming out of his mouth as he blocked Blackraven's attacks. “You . . . you're the spy?”
“Catching on rather slowly, are we?” said Blackraven with an amused snicker. “It doesn't surprise me. You're not a very intelligent person, Stan, if the way that you've been running Elementia is any indication.”
“What are you . . . ?” asked Stan drearily. It seemed almost surreal that he was having this conversation at all, let alone having it in the middle of a fight.
“You had the potential to make Elementia great, Stan,” said Blackraven, suddenly sounding angry to an alarming degree. “But you squandered that potential, just because of your incessant need to protect lower-level players!”
Stan still didn't know what Blackraven was talking about, but that last sentence made something snap within Stan. Now, he was glad he had his axe in hand, not to defend . . . but to kill. Suddenly, and without warning, Stan gave a savage war cry as he shifted into attack mode. His axe flew fast and furious, jabbing, cutting, swiping, glancing hit after hit onto Blackraven's diamond chestplate. It only took a few seconds before Blackraven was on the ground, his sword clattering
away. Stan stood over him and was about to drop the axe into Blackraven's chest when he suddenly gave a shout.
This shout was an odd, indescribable noise, and it was so peculiar that Stan was distracted by it for a moment, only to have Blackraven leap to his feet and punch Stan in the face. He spun around, in a daze yet again, and became vaguely aware of Blackraven pouring something down his throat before barreling toward Stan. Stan raised his axe to attack, but Blackraven was already upon him, and had pinned him to the ground.
Stan struggled to move, and saw that Blackraven had wisps of blue smoke curling off his body. A Potion of Swiftness. As he became aware of that, Stan also became aware of gray smoke pouring out of the walls and spreading over the battlefield. Immediately, he panicked. It was a cloud of Potion of Slowness, sure to knock him out. He immediately grabbed a Potion of Swiftness from his hip, but Blackraven was too fast and knocked it to the floor, shattering it. There was nothing Stan could do. He only had an instant to freak out before the cloud rolled over him, and his last vision was of Blackraven, pinning him down and leering at him.
It was all Caesar could do to dodge the constant stream of arrows that came shooting rapid-fire out of Leonidas's bow. He was too shocked to think, but he tried to remember
anyway. There was a technique for approaching an archer with a sword, but what was it? Caesar couldn't remember. He hadn't been on the battlefield for so long.
“Why have you betrayed me, Leonidas?” Caesar demanded desperately, ducking behind a wood plank block on the floor to catch his breath for a moment. “Surely you know that, if you strike me down, you shall bear the full weight of the retribution of Lord Tenebris?”
As Caesar said this, he heard Blackraven's signal from outside the window. As luck would have it, he was crouching right next to the activation lever. Caesar yanked down on it hastily before turning his attention back to Leonidas.
“I'm not afraid to die, Caesar,” Leonidas retorted, sending an arrow toward Caesar's leg, which he just barely managed to move in time, “because if I do, it'll still be ten times better than bein' in the Noctem Alliance.”
“How . . . how can you say that?” Caesar breathed in horror. “How can you bear to speak ill of the greatest organization in the history of Minecraft!”
“Oh! I don't know!” bellowed Leonidas, a vein pulsating in his head as he sprinted over to the block Caesar was hiding behind and stared down at the Noctem chancellor with venom. “Why don't ya ask . . . the prisoners' village!” And on the last word, he let the arrow fly at Caesar, who managed to roll out of the way with a look of pure fear
streaming down his face.
Leonidas refused to let up the barrage, and notched another arrow. “Or ask the people at the Tennis Machine!” And another arrow flew. “Or the Spleef finals!” Another arrow flew. Leonidas took a deep breath and locked onto his target, who was desperately sprinting for the door.
“Or how about . . .
the NPC village
!”
Suddenly, Caesar felt a stabbing pain as the final arrow found its way into his arm, and he fell to the ground, bellowing in agony. Soon, two more arrows followed, followed by a constant barrage of arrows, all sinking, one by one, into Caesar.
Leonidas slowly walked over to Caesar, an arrow notched in his bow. He became vaguely aware of a cloud of vapor rising into the air surrounding the battlefield outside the window, but chose to ignore it, instead reveling in the sweet taste of victory and justice. The head of the Noctem Alliance, who had organized the murder of the prison villagers, the Elementian citizens, and his family, the NPC villagers, was now chock-full of arrows, looking up at him feebly. Nothing in the world could spoil this moment.
There was one thing left to do, though, before putting Caesar out of his misery. Leonidas crouched down next to Caesar's trembling body and said, “I have to admit, Caesar, I'm a little bit surprised that ya didn't put up more of a fight.
I thought ya were supposed to be a world-class swordsman. Ya know, maybe I can say this in a different way . . . a way you'd be more familiar with. . . . Oh, I know!”
And with that, Leonidas stood up, pulled back the string of his bow, and took aim.
“You've disappointed me,” Leonidas said simply.
And with that, he let the arrow fly.
There was a moment of silence, the airspace filled only by a hissing sound coming from outside the mechanized window. Sweat dripping down his face and adrenaline coursing through his veins, Leonidas glanced out the window.
A cloud of gray gas had filled the air around the battlefield, and was hanging in the air throughout the cave. Leonidas could see the unconscious forms of Stan, Charlie, DieZombie97, five members of their task force, and thirty members of the Lesser Mushroom Tribe lying spread out across the battlefield. Only three figures remained standing, all of them having wisps of blue smoke rising from their bodies. Minotaurus was conversing with Blackraven and the chief, but when Leonidas glanced at him, he seemed to sense it, and returned the glance.
Leonidas froze for a moment, staring back into the eyes of Minotaurus. There was a long pause, where the two comrades who had worked together for months under the ruthless eye of Caesar held their gaze. Then . . .
“Look! Up in the window!” bellowed Minotaurus, his deep baritone echoing around the chamber. “It's Leonidas! He's not supposed to be here!”
Blackraven and the chief whipped their heads around to face Leonidas, and their eyes popped. Then, Blackraven shouted a command, and the three players rushed toward the stairwells.
Leonidas cursed under his breath. In his ecstasy over the death of Caesar, he had grown careless and let himself be seen! Now they would all know who had killed their leader, and Leonidas would become the most hunted player in the whole of Elementia. Leonidas didn't let himself dwell on it, though. He couldn't take on all three of them at onceâhe had to escape. He told himself that, as he fled, he would think of some way to gain the trust of Stan and his army, and fight back against Lord Tenebris.
And with that, Leonidas spun around, opened the wooden door that he himself had closed just moments before, and ran out of the room.
S
o his death was, admittedly, quite unexpected.”
“That's very unfortunate. You will find the one responsible, I assume?”
“As a matter of fact, we know who is responsible. . . . It was one of our own, who turned on us. He will be brought to justice soon, I assure you.”
“Hmmm . . .”
Stan's eyes fluttered as he began to stir. His brain still felt the effects of the Potion of Slowness on the battlefield. He became aware of voices relatively close to him.
“Once again, I would like to thank you for your help, my friend. This would not have been possible without you.”
“Do not call me your friend, Blackraven . . .”
That name caught Stan's ear, and instantly, his head felt much clearer. Stan opened his eyes and saw that he was sitting in a tiny cobblestone cell, barely large enough to stand in. He was sprawled out on the floor, his head against an iron door. Beyond the iron door, voices spoke in hushed tones. The voice of the chief of the Greater Tribesmen continued.
“. . . we are on uneven terms, and we will continue to be until you hold up your end of the deal.”
“Don't fret, my esteemed Chief. It is being attended
to. As we speak, an entire legion of the Noctem Alliance's finest troops is headed this way, bound for the Lesser Mushroom Island.”
Stan's stomach clenched, and he began to sweat in panic as he continued to listen.
“Once they arrive, we will help you overthrow the police and declare martial law on the island. The Noctem Alliance will capture the citizens of Element City still on the Lesser Island and hold them hostage. Then, the Lesser Tribesmen are yours to do with as you choose.”
“I can't wait. Those traitors have had it coming to them for a long time.”
“If you would like, Chief, the Noctem Alliance would be happy to destroy the city. I know that it is your wish to return the islands to their rightful state of nature, and as your newfound allies, it would only be right for us to help you.”
“Thank you, Blackraven. That would be very helpful to us.”
“It is my pleasure, friend. Now please do me a favor and see how your men are faring down below. I have a feeling that our captives will be awakening soon.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the chief, and Stan heard a pair of footsteps grow fainter and fainter.
Stan continued to lay on the ground for a few minutes. His heart was racing as he processed what he had just heard,
but he was determined not to reveal himself. Blackraven had assumed that he had been unconscious. Stan wouldn't let him know he had heard such valuable information.
Finally, after about five minutes, Stan pulled himself up to his knees, and then to his feet. He could now see a set of iron bars on the back wall of the cell, behind which were blue skies and clouds. He was clearly high up in the sky. Then, Stan turned around. He stared through the small window atop the iron door, and the beaked face of Blackraven was staring back at him.
“Hello, Stan,” said Blackraven with a devious smile.
Stan did not respond. All he could do was stare Blackraven down through the iron cross over the window, daggers of contempt shooting from his eyes.
“I see that you're awake,” Blackraven continued with a smug grin. “I hope that your cell is to your liking.”
Stan still refused to answer. He didn't think that he could. It felt like a sea of acid was building up in his stomach.
“Oh, and if you were by any chance thinking of punching your way out of here, I'm afraid that you'll be severely disappointed.” Blackraven's smirk grew larger still. “We have Greater Tribesmen standing guard over every block of the tower. If you try to run, you will get nowhere.”
“I'm not going to run,” Stan finally spat out.
“Oh, I'm sure you're going to want to reconsider that,”
replied Blackraven with a chuckle. “Especially when you hear what we've done to your friends.”
That was all it took. Stan flew forward, smashing his face into the window of the door, snarling like a rabid animal. “What are you talking about? What did you do to them? Answer me!” Stan demanded.
“Oh, don't fret,” chuckled Blackraven, outrageously whimsical in tone. “They're still alive . . . for now.” His grin grew even larger as he spoke, while the horror on Stan's face quickly grew in poignancy.
“We're not going to kill any of them until they give us some information that we dearly need. And you will not suffer at all, Stan. I know you're far too unintelligent to know anything of true importance. You'd rather just let your friends do all the planning for you, assuming that what they decide will be for the best. That, my friend, is the sign of a truly pathetic leader.
“So, for that reason, you will not be tortured. However, I know for a fact that all three of your comrades know valuable information about the security of Element City, information which I was unable to coax out of them when I sat alongside you all on the council. And so now, I am forced to obtain the information the hard way. I must admit, Stan, that Charlie has proved himself to be quite resistant to the torture so far. We haven't gotten a word out of him yet. Rest assured,
however, I shall break him eventually. Charlie, as well as DZ and Commander Crunch.”
Words could not describe the sheer, undiluted levels of rage and hatred swelling within Stan. The revulsion threatened to send Stan's body into spasms while Blackraven casually discussed the malicious torture of Stan's friends. And the fear and horror were real too, as Stan imagined all the terrible, terrible things the Noctem Alliance was surely doing to Charlie at that very moment.
“What about the others?” choked out Stan, his breathing shaky and a sob of pure malice caught in his throat. “My men? What have you done with them?” bellowed Stan as Blackraven held his entertained smirk.
“We've been teaching the Greater Tribesmen how to use bows and arrows to take down moving targets,” replied Blackraven happily. “You'll be happy to know that they're getting quite good at it. I suspect we'll be out of targets within the day!”
Stan's heart clenched yet again. His men were being shot down as he spoke, his best friend was being subjected to persecution, and DZ and Commander Crunch were surely in cells just like his own, awaiting the same fate. And it was all because of the player staring at Stan through the window.
Finally, Stan stopped stewing in despair for long enough to return the glare. There were no words to describe what he
longed to say to Blackraven, the player he now hated more than Caesar, more than Leonidas, more even than Minotaurus. Finally, Stan willed himself to speak.
“Why, Blackraven?” Stan asked, trying not to let his feeling of utter defeat sound in his voice. “When I first met you, five months ago, you took me in, along with Charlie and Kat, when nobody else would. How did you go from that . . . to this?”
Stan was then genuinely surprised to see a shadow cross Blackraven's black-and-yellow face. He took a deep breath, and then spoke.
“As I'm sure you know, Stan,” Blackraven said, his voice sounding oddly solemn, “I was nearly killed by a lynch mob the day after I took you in. I had prepared for such an occasion when I built my store, and I sought refuge in an underground bunker I had built. What I had not expected was to be discovered by riot control when they looted the remains of my house after dispersing the mob.
“I was brought before Minotaurus, and he sentenced me to execution after the Proclamation Day ceremonies. My crime was evading arrest, but I knew they really just wanted me dead for harboring lower-level players.
“I'm sure you remember the events of that Proclamation Day quite clearly, Stan. After you shot King Kev, and riot control burned down the Adorian Village, King Kev knew that he
had to do everything he could to find you. When he learned that I was the one who had protected you, and I was in his custody, King Kev waived my death sentence on the condition that my life now belonged to him.
“With all his vast resources, it wasn't long before King Kev discovered the resistance forces massing in the ruins of the Adorian Village. He sent in a spy who determined that they were working with you to take him down. King Kev saw his opportunity to use me, and sent me into the militia as a spy whose goal was to gain the trust of the militia and report information back to Element City.
“At that point, I was still under the misguided and preposterous notion that lower-level players were equal to the upper-levels, and they were worth preserving. For this reason, I only fed King Kev false information, or else information which I deemed to be trivial. And as you know, the battle was won by the Adorians, and you took over Element City as president. I was quite pleased with myself. I was in a position of great comfort. I was on the winning team, and could easily gain the trust of the enemy should King Kev's remaining followers return.”
“But why did you turn, then?” asked Stan, utterly bewildered. “Why did you join the Noctem Alliance, instead of becoming a spy for the council?”
Blackraven's face took on an ugly look, and now it was
his turn to glare at Stan in contempt.
“The fact that I joined the Noctem Alliance, Stan, is one hundred percent your fault.”
Stan was shocked and mortified. “What are you talking . . .”
“You had so much power, Stan,” Blackraven cut in bitterly. “You were in control of an entire world, and your only enemies were too weak to do a thing to oppose you. Your citizens were so enamored by your leadership during the rebellion that they would have blindly followed any command you gave them.
“And what did you do? Did you put all your citizens to work to gather enough resources to make Element City a powerful force? No! Did you give yourself enough power to ensure that you could accomplish any of your goals on a whim? No! No, you didn't, Stan! You were so focused on protecting the rights of your people that you became blind to the possibilities you had at your fingertips!
“Compassion is a blinding thing, Stan. As admirable a quality as it is, there are times when it must be shelved for the greater good. You have never done that! You are a weak leader who would rather empower your people than your country! People are ephemeral, Stan. No person will last forever, because they will die, they will leave Elementia, and they will leave you! But empires . . . empires can last forever!
You had the ability to strengthen Element City to the point where it would never die! You had the resources, you had the capabilities!
“And what did you do? You sacrificed that chance in order to promote kindness. Fleeting, mortal kindness. And you refused to let your compassion go for the sake of empowering your nation! And now it's too late, Stan. We now live in the age of the Noctem Alliance, and the republic will soon be overshadowed by an organization to which compassion is alien!
“I tried to help you, Stan. I tried to convince you and your friends to pass laws that would enable you to build Element City into a superpower. I tried to convince you, for once in your life, to put your ridiculous care for the lower-level players and the NPC villagers aside. You wouldn't, though. And I soon realized that you never would. I knew I had to try to run for president. I knew that others would be bound to see it my way. But no. You were reelected yet again, by selfish, lower-level players who would rather live empty, unfulfilling lives than to build an empire that would last for years.
“It was then that I knew I had to turn. I had received a notification from Caesar in secret a few days before the election, telling me to join up with the Noctem Alliance in Nocturia. I didn't want to. I truthfully disagree with many ideals of the Alliance. But the Noctem Alliance has ambition.
They aim to create an empire that will last for eons in this fair land of Elementia. And if I couldn't turn your country into my vision for the future, then I knew the Noctem Alliance would. They won't halt greatness for the sake of protecting their people. And that, Stan, is the reason the Noctem Alliance is the greatest organization in the history of Minecraft.”
There was a moment of silence as Stan processed all that Blackraven had just said. Finally, he managed to speak. “So . . . that's all you wanted, this entire time? To create an empire that would last forever?”
“That is all I have ever wanted,” replied Blackraven darkly.
“And . . . you've been working against me and my friends from the inside this entire time?” Stan asked weakly.
“Oh, Stan,” replied Blackraven with a dry chuckle. “You truly are in your own tier of ignorance. Surely you must have noticed that I was the catalyst for all that has weakened Elementia and strengthened the Noctem Alliance. Whose idea was it to add the reenactment of the battle to Elementia Day, allowing the perfect opportunity to strike fear into the heart of the city? Who handed control of Brimstone Prison to the Wither Skeletons, knowing full well that they would revolt against you at the slightest provocation? Who slipped materials to Count Drake in secret, so he could escape when you entered his room? Who helped you develop your plan for striking the Specialty Base, knowing full well that Caesar would be
told exactly what was coming, and how to counter it?
“I must admit, though,” said Blackraven, a cocky look on his face, “that my most brilliant idea was to leak council information into the city. The general public is a fickle animal, Stan. It can build you up and tear you down on a dime, depending on how you use it. And leaking your secret plans to the people ensured that they would never trust you again. And so it was that your people, who you had worked so hard to help, were now against you, and fighting among themselves. The order of chaos in Elementia was complete.”
As Stan reeled in shock, Blackraven's smile grew back to maximum size, enjoying every moments of his ex-leader's struggle. Finally, Blackraven spoke again. “It is time for me to go, Stan,” said Blackraven. “I have an audience with Lord Tenebris, and then I must oversee the end of Charlie's . . . er . . . persuasion. I shall take care of DZ next, and Commander Crunch soon after. And then . . . well, let's just say that Lord Tenebris has special plans for you.” And then, with an amused chuckle, Blackraven turned on his heel and walked down the hallway until he was out of sight.