Helooo

Rip my schedule, schule has started lol

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RECAP

     Glancing again at the human, who was staring at Herobrine in shock, Notch spoke again, "Bind his ankles, and wind more chains around him. Heal the human, but keep him bound. We ride out in thirty minutes."

     With that, Notch turned on his heel, leaving the soldiers to obey his orders as he went to calm down a little ways from the small 'camp' of sorts.

     He would interrogate his brother later...a harsh job...but it had to be done. The voices of his people cried for justice, for a reason their loved ones had died...and they deserved answers...deserved justice.

     And no matter how hard it would be...they would get their justice...

END RECAP

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Why, brother... Why?

    Steve watched in awe as the First Ruler strode away, then glanced again at the other immortal, now lying, slumped, on the ground. Truly there was no equal to Notch...

     Following Notch's instructions, Steve was hauled up, dragged away from where Herorbine was now being picked up, wrapped in more shining chains. The soldier dared not struggle in the hands of the Valkyries, only watching with wide, frightened eyes until Herobrine was out of his sight.

     Wasn't...this what he had wanted? For this crazed immortal to be captured or done away with so the world would be safe again?

     Then...why did he feel so worried?

     Why did he want so badly to help the broken immortal he'd only just began to uncover...despite everything that...monster had done to him?

     A soft command to kneel reached his ears, and he reluctantly forced himself to look at the ground, shakily, carefully, obeying. Hands and fingers prodded at the arrow in his upper back, making Steve squirm, grimacing. A sterner instruction to stay still sounded above him, and he obeyed again, trying to stiffen against the pain of the arrow being gripped.

     And then tugged out.

     He managed to smother his yelp of pain at least...

     ...hopefully, the rest of their ministrations wouldn't hurt too badly.

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     It wasn't long before Steve found himself being helped onto a horse behind another soldier, gritting his teeth against darting pains in his upper back. He was now, unfortunately, shirtless, but the bandages winding about his upper torso kept him...moderately covered. Salve and healing ointment had been smeared over the cuts adorning his form, and already he could feel the warm numbing effects kicking in.

      "Easy Hendrick, he's hurt."

     With a final grunt, accompanied by a push, Steve was finally mounted on the horse, right behind another soldier dressed in relatively light armor...an archer by the looks of it. The man, Hendrick, who'd helped him up, rolled his eyes slightly, "I could only be so gentle while hauling his weak little body on top of that potato sack you call a horse."

     Ignoring Hendrick, who was now marching off to his own horse, the archer murmured, "Give me your hands, here, wrap them around my chest, under my arms, that's it."

      Steve did as he was told, remaining quiet and submissive. His hands had been freed during his...medical help, but he hadn't done much with them, other than keeping them by his sides. It was only natural, he didn't wish to attract the attention of Notch...especially after what he'd just seen him do to Herobrine. As his hands were tugged around the archer, he felt...rope being wound about his wrists again, tied firmly, but not too tightly.

     "There you are. Now, if you get tired, feel free to lean on me."

      Steve managed a quiet, absent, "Th-thank you, sir..."

     "Call me Lysander."

      Steve managed a slight nod, hesitantly allowing himself to lean slightly on the golden-haired archer, looking out into the crowd of other soldiers. They were all mounting up, forming into a ready line four sections deep, and nearly three-wide. Their formations might be mixed up badly anyway on the trek back to...wherever they were headed. The surrounding jungle was thick and overgrown...Steve could hardly see all of them through the undergrowth and massive trees. However, there really weren't all that many men.

     Such a small platoon of soldiers...and they had managed to take their nemesis down in minutes.

      Had the 41st division's fight been in vain...? Had Steven's entire regiment been sacrificed for nothing?

     "...ey man, are you even listening to me?"

      Steve jumped a little, quickly turning his attention back to Ly...Lysander, that was his name. The archer's green eyes were looking over his shoulder, glaring slightly at Steven.

      "S-sorry, uh, what did you say?"

      A huff answered him, and Lysander looked away, urging his horse forward, likely to get into his section, "Just askin' your name...and warning you that if you try and jump off or pull me down next to ya, my dagger's covered in some nasty venom stuff." Lysander's gloved hand patted his belt, where an intricate leather sheath held the aforementioned weapon, "It'll have you knocked out for a day or more and 'll give you a stomachache even the gods would pale at." He chuckled.

     A wince twisted Steve's face, "I...I understand, I won't try anything, trust me. My name's uh...Steven Forest."

     "Well, nice t' meet you, Steven. We'll be back at the capitol in 'bout four or so hours...maybe longer. I'll probably make you think it's twice as long, 'cause I'm gonna be talkin' your ear off."

     A slow smile managed to envelop Steve's face as he nodded again, "Alright...I hope I don't fall asleep while you're still talking."

     "I'm hopin' the same thing lad, now where do ya hail from...?"

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     While Steve was being tended to and bandaged up, Herobrine, limp as a sleeping child, was being dragged over, per Notch's instructions, and hauled over the back of Notch's steed.

     He was turned facedown, hung over the front of Notch's saddle like a pair of saddlebags, his arms chained behind him, unable to cushion his chest. Notch watched his Valkyries do so with a masked expression, and eyes of steel.

     Though underneath, it hurt him like a blade of the same steel driven into his heart.

     His brother had come back to him...

     ...but was he even the same person anymore?

     After waving off the Valkyries, Notch leaped nimbly atop his steed, settling a powerful hand on the small of Herobrine's back, to keep him from slipping off or struggling. He wouldn't wake for nearly a day but...just in case, Notch didn't intend to give him any chance to escape his fate.

     His brother twitched slightly at his touch, before going still again, causing new hurt to pierce the First Ruler's soul.

     He had so many questions for his brother, his fellow creator...

     ...but they would have to wait until he was in a place where Herobrine would have no chance of escape.

     Forcing himself again to take on the facial expression of a grim mask, he nudged his horse forward, urging him to the front of his troops.

     "Form up!! Move out!"

     His commanders, captains, and generals echoed his cries, and the low thunder of over a hundred horse-hooves started up.

     Onward...to the capitol.

     And, hopefully, to answers.

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     Cold, harsh darkness...and pain radiating through his entire form. His limbs were weak, he couldn't even move about in this suffocating emptiness.

     The immortal, the fallen Second Ruler, cursed lowly within the endless void. Was this what he had come to? Was he finally...dead?

     No...it was near impossible to kill him.

     A memory of his brother's powerful hand on his forehead flashed through his mind.

     Ah, right...Notch had stolen his energy.

     Another curse left Herobrine's lips. Notch had him at last...and he hadn't even gotten the chance to heal his broken mind. Herobrine's excuses would mean nothing...he'd done too much, had hurt too many.

     Like a coward, his thoughts turned to a dull acceptance...and to a dim hope that his brother would have mercy on his undeserving form.

     He would likely begin returning to his angered self within the hour...being too far away from that human, Steven, for too long would have him retreating into his angered, bitter, empty shell of a mind again...as he'd tested before.

     Oh, how the darkness in his thoughts longed for that state of being, that angered numbness...and yet his last shred of sanity begged to never be returned to such a horrible existence.

     Turning his thoughts away from those bitter apprehensions, he focused on trying to will his body into a state of wakefulness...without much success.

     How long had he been asleep? What were they doing to him...now that he was forced into such a helpless state? A muffled groan made it out of his mouth, was swallowed by the void. Not even the light of his eyes pierced it, he realized.

     Perhaps this was his eternal prison...his punishment. Locked away forever in a dark, endless world, slowly going insane—

     A light suddenly flashed in his eyes, piercing through the dark and searing into his head. Releasing a cry, he tried to force his eyes shut, but to no avail. The light was the warm orange-yellow of a torch...

     ...wait, the smell of burning wood was now brushing over him.

     Slowly, painstakingly, the blackness around him melted away, replaced with the dim surroundings of...a prison cell. Grey bricks that smelled of damp moss and earth surrounded him in a small space, only about six-by-six blocks. Torches hung off the wall in iron fastenings, flickering and sputtering dully.

     As his vision became less blurred, Herobrine could make out a...table nearly a block in front of him, made of dark, glistening stone. His gaze slid to his arms, bound to cold metal with golden chains that sucked the strength from his very core, keeping him weak, keeping him captive. He was shackled to...a chair?

     He scowled, that old rage clouding his thoughts at the sight of the chains. Oh, how he hated being tied down...

     "Brine..."

     The immortal couldn't stop the slight flinch his body gave as the deep voice of his...brother...reached him. A glare he never meant to give crept over his face as he lifted his eyes, sneering slightly at the sight of Notch standing on the other side of the table, hands folded behind his back.

     A door of dark wood and gleaming metal with a small widow of harsh bars was behind Notch, testifying that he was indeed in a prison of some sort...a dungeon. It was likely the dungeon of Notch's palace...in the capital city.

     "Hello, Notchy."

     His brother breathed a long-suffering sigh, adjusting his stance and locking eyes with Herobrine, his gaze boring into Herobrine's very mind, "This is not the time for insults and pettiness, Herobrine. You're facing serious charges from your actions."

     He stepped a bit closer, arms coming forward to rest his large hands on the table before him, leaning towards his brother, almost in earnest, "Do you not realize this, Brine? Do you know how many have been hurt, killed even...and how many cry out for your destruction?"

     Unfortunately, Notch was met with silence as Herobrine stared at him, face unreadable. Another heavy sigh passed Notch's lips as he straightened, hands slipping off the table. His voice, though strained, took on a new firmness, "Very well..."
"If you choose not to answer me willingly...you will be forced to answer unwillingly. I'll give you one chance to answer my questions before I resort to force... One chance, and one chance only, per question. I cannot...afford to give you mercy."

     His voice lowered, "As much as it pains me to keep it from you..."

     However, before he could even speak the first question, Herobrine interrupted him, looking pained as he gritted out, "G-get th' human in here."

     "He is wounded and recovering, and will be questioned as well—"

     "I said get him in here!!"

     Notch's eyes flickered dangerously, flaring a brighter gold around his iris' rims, "You are in no place to make demands, Brine."

     "I-It'll make It easier on th' both of us...Notch. Besides...you h-have to confirm his story anyway, hm? Cut th' time in half, and get him in here before I—"

     "Silence."

     At the thundering tone, Herobrine grew silent, glaring at Notch from his trapped position.

     Slowly, deliberately, Notch made his way in front of the fallen creator, mouth set in a thin, firm line. Herobrine felt the smallest traces of anxiety stir in his heart, and they only multiplied as Notch reached forward, grasping his chin, forcing Herobrine to meet his eyes.

     "He will stay in here only as long as you behave and answer me truthfully, Brine. Should one word of slander or untruth pass your lips, I will resort to a more painful way of prying the truth from you, do you understand?"

     "Just get him in here."

     "Do you understand."

     "Yes...yes... Whatever."

     With a clipped nod, Notch released Herobrine's chin, striding over to the door and opening it, murmuring a few words. Marching feet immediately hurried away, and Notch turned back to Herobrine, looking almost weary.

     Brine, in return, looked stiff and wary. He forced himself not to inspect his surroundings, instead focusing solely on Notch. How long had it been since he last saw his own brother...

     Before long, the sounds of marching boots returned, accompanied by a pair of out-of-sync feet. The door opened, and a rather frightened-looking Steven was pushed into the cell. Immediately, Herobrine's eyes were on him, already unconsciously looking for more injuries, perhaps bruises and scars. However, to his slight relief, the soldier appeared unharmed and was even dressed in new, clean clothes, hiding the bandages wrapped about his torso.

     On the other hand, as soon as Steve saw Notch, he went pale and hurriedly dropped to his knees, stuttering, "M-my Lord Notch, I—"

     "Peace, young one, there is no need for formality down here."

     With more than a little disgust, Heorbrine watched as Notch helped Steven up, showing him a bench he could sit upon. The look of pure worshipfulness on Steven's face made Herobrine grimace. That is, it did...until he looked closer.

      Steve looked...almost scared, guilty even, before Notch.

      Before he could stare too hard at the young soldier, Notch interrupted his thoughts.

      "Brine, he is here. Now..."

     Herobrine's gaze snapped to Notch. Inwardly, he could already feel Steven's presence soothing, numbing that harsh anger, that hate he so despised.

     Notch's hands again pressed down on the table, and he stared into Herobrine's blank eyes with intense purpose.

     And...with that gaze, a tinge of fear permeated Herobrine's lost soul.

     Notch's first question pierced his heart.

      "Why, brother...why."

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Wooohawww

I can't wait for this book to be completishhhh...then I can do the second one and (hopefully lol) be doneee.

And y'all won't have to wait months for cliffies to be solved :D

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