(Illustrations don't belong to me)   

"Steve" was perhaps the most recognizable name in the whole world of Minecraft, not for the heroic and extravagant fairy tale that came with it, but purely for the name's popularity: It is the default name for any Minecraft character. Thus, the fact that there was a Steve, living his perfectly normal and peaceful life (yes, absolutely normal, thank you very much) on a small farm nearby a village at the far North was not something out of the ordinary.

Anyhow, Steve's existence was revolved around dedicated agricultural grinding – which, of course, was farming for wheat and carrots and potatoes, milking the cows, slaughtering the chickens and, since his spawn point was so close from a village infested by model villagers, trading his goods for farming tools, pumpkin pies, and occasionally when he seemed to lose his consciousness for saving up emeralds for the distant future, Bottle-O'-Enchanting(s). Our Steve woke up every day in his white bed, staring at the far South, glazing at the rise of the sun, before continuing his usual routine. The routine of one whose life was dedicated to worshipping poultries, before turning them into breakfast, lunch and dinner.

For many, his life was dull and meaningless, but for our faithful Steve, he preferred to leave the risky adventures and heroic quests to other Minecrafters, more adventurous than him, more ambitious than him, more care-free than him, and of course, had fewer cows to look after than him. This routine life of his went on for many Minecraft days and nights.

***

Alas, despite yearning for nothing more than a quiet life beside an even more peaceful village, something still had to come and change his life forever. And one day, when he woke up from a refreshing sleep, a stranger was passing outside his bedroom door - not supernatural, yet quite out of the ordinary. That person was wearing a navy cloak and a pair of jeans of matching colour, and he was walking slowly into the village.

"Meh, none of my business," thought Steve while breeding his cows, in hope of exchanging steak for a profitable amount of emeralds. Of course, he wanted nothing to do with that stranger, who seemed to have a wary air around his travel-worn cloak, his dirty blonde hair and his somewhat torn jeans.

And yet that travelsman appeared to have some important things to do with him - because, for goddess's sake, every time Steve woke up from his deep Minecraft sleep (of no more than 10 seconds), that person was passing outside his house: his front door? His kitchen window? His horse stable? Right where his rose bush stood? Wait, what?

For our Steve, that was a new experience, having someone seemingly spying on him in clumsy methods - there was once he discovered footprints in his lilac bushes - but, being the quiet person he was, the only reaction plausible for him was ignoration.

One day... two... three... a week...

"Okay, what exactly do you want?" said a bewildered but reasonably annoyed Steve on a late afternoon, eleven days after the stranger's first encounter. And to his surprise, that person beamed:

"Ah, I was wondering how long will I have to stay until you finally stop ignoring my existence. Now, I bear for you an important message from the other side of the Minecraft Realm-"

"What do you mean 'the other side'? I don't have any business to do with it, do I?" interrupted a thoroughly bamboozled Steve.

"Well in fact you do, it's just that you haven't been informed. Now, I assume you have given me a warm welcome to have a small chat inside your house?" the stranger beamed again. He seemed to take no notice of Steve's soon-to-be-emerging fury, stepped inside and closed the door behind his back. Steve had no choice.

"I don't mean to be rude...," started Steve, now feeling his head hot as the cup of tea balancing on his knees.

"And yet, unfortunately, rudeness comes from all of us at such an alarming rate it's rather peculiar how can I still enjoy the nice cup of tea you've fetched," the stranger (soon to be in danger of Steve's intimate fury) finished his sentence. "Now, shall I say why am I here?"

"Get on with it, then."

"As you wish. Now, once upon a time-"

The stranger was interrupted again - of course, by none other than Steve himself, who had just broken the abnormally thin china teacup in absolute fury:"

"Listen here. You lurked around my house, stumbled on my private property, drove me around the bend in confusion and bewilderment, and when you finally got into my own house you tell me a fairy tale??"

"No, sir. Please allow me to trespass just a little bit more on your patience, and I shall tell you everything you need, and there is, to know. By the way, pardon me for not introducing myself. My name is Thomas - please call me Tom, and for reasons you'll find out in just a moment, I am going to be your guide and your company on your Quest-"

"Quest? What quest? Never in my life have I experienced, or even heard, about such frivolous nonsense!"

The stranger - now Tom - though managed to keep a cool temper himself, was also beginning to lose his patience.

"Sir, only if you would stop interrupting me will I be able to tell you the full story behind my appearance. Now, I beg your pardon, shut up!"

And from his hand came a sphere of golden light, appearing in thin air as if made from his fingers, which hovered above his hands for a few milliseconds, before flinging itself as Steve's body. Steve opened his mouth to let out a scream of sheer terror, but it was to no avail - as if the golden sphere had blocked his throat, or taken away his ability to speak entirely. Faithful old Steve was awestruck. He could no longer say anything, and his terror and fright can now only be seen through his ever-widening eyes.

"Sorry, but my precious time here is limited, and I plead for your patience and your attentive listening," murmured Tom, his hand returning to its normal pale-white colour.

"Now now, I shall begin my story," he continued, acknowledging the not-so-small incident to Steve's ability to communicate.

"Once upon a time, there were seven tribes in this Minecraft Realm, each occupying chunks of lands, minding their own business. That was until some of them experienced overpopulation, and thus led to a notorious war between them to steal each other's territory. The conflict first flared at the centre of the Realm, then quickly spread to the North, the South, the West, the East, you name it. Very soon the whole Realm was filled with ụndenotated TNTs, massive craters, flying fire charges and arrows, and of course, an endless number of human corpses."

"However, when the war was at its peak, from the cave located directly at the centre of the Minecraft Realm, emerged seven people, each holding a sphere of a different colour (and thus, what must be different powers). They sent their spheres to circle the whole of Minecraft Realm, their power stopped all suffering and conflict."

"Baffled, the soldiers of the tribes cast their eyes on the seven powerful wizards, just in time to see their disappearance, as suddenly as their coming. Their spheres of tremendous powers returned to the centre of the Realm and began merging, almost melting into each other to create a brilliant white beam, shooting up the right to the build limit. At the centre of that jet of light stood a block never observed before, never seen in history. And that is the beacon. Are you following the story so far?"

Finally, after a tremendous effort of twisting his mouth and gasping for air, Steve regained his ability to speak.

"Yeah yeah, good story, magnificent plot. But what does that have to do with me?" said a breathless Steve, gasping for more air and trying to regain his ability to reason after the shock.

"I am getting to that part," said Tom, and he went on with his story.

"Now we skip to the modern times - that is, ours. The light of the beacon was thought to bring harmony, happiness and prosperity to all people and tribes within the Realm. And through countless Minecraft cycles of research, it has been discovered that the light of the beacon, along with the stretch and strength of its power, also depends on the tribes itself. Put simply, if people within the Minecraft Realm were unhappy, the power of the beacon weakened, and vice versa."

"The complex relationship between the light of the beacon, its role in keeping harmony, and the happiness of the own people it serves, I dare say, is the root of the problem. Throughout the times, despite the powerful influence of the beacon beam, people outgrew its benefits. Nowadays, Minecraft Realm is full of people hiding anger, pride, greed, ... you name it. Admit it, haven't you been feeling much more impatient and more easily angered over the weeks and months and years?"

"I-" Steve paused at the middle of his sentence to think about what Tom has said.

"That is most untrue, I have always been patient and quiet and sociable toward all others."

And yet, as he told himself that, a small yet so eery voice echoed from the back of his head:

"Is that so? What about a farmer you shouted at for not getting out of his way as you were walking on the street yesterday? Have you forgotten the swollen face of the blacksmith whom you yelled at for trading 16 emeralds to an enchanted diamond pickaxe? Hmmm?"

"Supposedly you are true," said Steve, in a somewhat defeated tone. "But then again, what does that have to do with me?"

"Quite a lot, actually," said Tom. And he continued:

"Your anger, and pretty much all others', is both the reason and consequence of the beacon' corruption. The light beam itself

-which, as I've said before, is in the centre of the Minecraft Realm - is now flickering, and on the verge of fading away- forever."

"And this is where you come in. You have been born with the power to mend it - as such, you shall go on a quest with me, to track down people with powers like you, and fix the corruption of the beacon beam, to mend what is about to be broken, to sew the charm set up by the 7 powerful wizards, thus guarding and protecting the happiness, the prosperity and the fate of

Minecraft Realm. The war is about to happen once more - and you have the power to stop it. Please, come with me on the quest."

After a rather long pause to digest all the information, Steve burst out:

"But I don't possess any kind of power, neither have I ever even seen myself performing miraculous magic! How can you be so sure that I'm the Chosen One, the hero saving Minecraft from destruction?"

Tom didn't answer this question - he fell into silence, before sighing heavily.

"And also, I don't want to do this," started Steve, again. "My whole life has been in here. Ever since I was dropped into this Minecraft World, I have lived as a dedicated farmer among the villagers, and I see no reason to change, to leave the comfort zone! I mean, sure, heroic quests and dangerous adventures are glorified under the eye of a Minecrafter, but I'd say that is just not for me. I mean, couldn't you find someone else to do the job, to mend the bacon... that light thing?"

Tom sighed once more.

"I know. The time will come, when you shall be convinced by my story, by the quest, and by your mission. Well, this is a map to the centre of the Realm. In case you change your mind, then... Come to the coordinate written on the map, call my name – Tom - aloud, and I shall answer to your summon. In the meantime... farewell."

Andwith that, Tom vanished from thin air, leaving behind nothing but yellowglittering sparkles. He disapparated, it seemed.