The first in a series of short stories in my Minecraft Universe. At the beginning of each chapter I will give a brief summary, and if the timeline is the same or different from story arc to story arc, I'll make sure to label the top of it, too.

Feedback and constructive criticism is welcome, please enjoy!

Sum: By the Hero's sword, a Great Evil will be forever banished from this world, and all shall live in peace for eons more. Nathaniel, the Chosen Hero, has at last reached his destination, with his friends Clarisse, Damien, and Thorn, only to hit a major roadblock at the Ancient Temple. . .

The End

Nathaniel stepped up to the alter, looking over the ancient lettering surrounding it, speaking of the Prophesized One who would be key to defeating the Great Evil that had arisen after it's banishment centuries before. This was where the battle was meant to be ended. . . . The armies of monsters rendered immobile, the evil forever defeated.

Taking a deep breath, Nathaniel stepped up onto the pedestal and turned to face his companions. He waited, and waited, but nothing happened . . . His friends watched on in confusion. What was happening. . .? Or rather, why wasn't anything happening!

" . . . Shouldn't something have happened by now?" Asks Damien, tail flicking from side to side.

"We took all the right steps, why wouldn't it be working?" Countered Clarisse, reshouldering her bag.

"We must have missed something . . . Dammit! We don't have much time left!" Nathaniel snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose, when he noticed the youngest of their party, Thorn, huddling underneath Damien's wing, glancing at times at the writing at the walls, then away.

". . .Thorn? You alright bud?"

The kid startled, looking up at him, his eyes glowing faintly in the torchlight. Slowly, he shook his head, coming up to the alter, gently running his hand over it, entranced.

" . . . It's me." He breathed, looking up at Nathaniel. "It was always me."

"Bud, this isn't your fault. Those horrible people-"

"They did this too me. The essence of . . ." Thorn trailed off, glancing back at Damien, tears welling up in his eyes. ". . . Of a monster."

Nathaniel climbed down and turned Thorn to face him, bending to one knee. "Thorn, look at me buddy. None of this is your fault, alright? We'll figure out what we need to do-"

"I already know. I . . . I can FEEL this place, Nathan, and it feels familiar! You. . . You have to strike me down."


Thorn continued on, ignoring Nathaniel's outburst, his gaze trailing over the walls and writings, slowly sliding down to the alter once more,

"That evil is within me . . . If I give it control, even for an instant . . . It'll kill everyone. But if you, if you k-kill me first . . . If we time it just right . . . You'll be able to save EVERYONE."

The kid looked up at Nathaniel, tears spilling down his cheeks.

"You HAVE to do it, Lance. Please."

Damian and Clarisse immediately butted in, talking over one another and arguing that there was another way, there HAD to be, Nathaniel couldn't possibly agree with this madness, could he?!

At a minute or so of this, he cut them off, "Enough! No one is going to hurt you, Thorn, not now, nor ever again. I already promised you that." Gently taking the kid's hand, Nathaniel stood and guided them all back towards the exit. "Now come on. We have at least three days before the mobs come. We can set up camp outside and take a rest.


When the fire was reduced to embers, and the others were sound asleep, one figure came forth, gently took Nathaniel's sword from its sheathe, and crept into the Ancient Temple.

Several minutes later, the others awoke to the sound of screams, coming from within the Temple. Thorn was nowhere to be seen anywhere near camp.

Sprinting back within the Temple, the sight within stopped Nathaniel dead in his tracks, for there was Thorn, staring right back, the sword clutched in his grasp.

The child's eyes glowed a burning violet, black scales creeping over his skin, teeth that had become alarmingly sharp bared in what was meant to be an apologetic smile. He shifted slightly on top of the Alter,

"Go0dY3. . .Br0th3R. . ."

Bracing the sword against the Alter, cutting his hands on the blade, Thorn threw himself against the point, impaling himself upon the sword.



"By Notch. . ."

Clarisse was the first to reach the boy, gently taking his face in her hands. Turning, she snapped at Damien to go and get her bag, before gently pleading with Thorn to hang on, he was going to be alright.

Nathaniel stared on mutely, falling to his knees, tears flowing freely from his eyes.

For all his promises, for all his care, he couldn't protect his friend when it truly mattered.

He. . . Failed.

. . . .drip . . . .drip. . . .