Chapter 35, Part I: Not One Bit Normal

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- Nya's POV -

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Don't fall asleep. Don't fall asleep.

Don't. Fall. Asleep.

The white light retreated. Suddenly, I could breathe, and slowly, the world around me became coloured again - but it was mostly dull red.

Someone's cursing sounded in my ears, but the words were dull and disorientated. My mind started reforming scattered images of my environment, and I suddenly remembered where and why I was here, in Herobrine's palace.

To save my friends. To save Clare, if she wants to be saved. To save Zach.

For my own revenge.

I pushed myself back into the world of the living and moving and forced myself to become aware of everything, even though it hurt my head painfully. Herobrine, who was several feet away, dropped to his knees on the nether brick floor, facing away from me. He was muttering something, and I listened closely to hear . . .

"Not possible. It's not possible. Not possible . . ."

I spoke up, almost choking on the words; "What? What isn't possible?"

Herobrine continued muttering, his voice stuttered, shattered, broken. "Only one. They can only have one. Even if they did have another, I would sense it . . . It doesn't make sense. It's impossible."

"One what?" I spat out, louder than before. I was still weak and recovering from whatever the white light was, hardly able to move off the ground. I have to get to Zach, I thought.

Herobrine choked out an answer, something that he normally would never, ever do: "One for each Wielder. One power. Always. Never two, or three, or four or five or six. Always one. There has never been more than one power. One power for each Wielder."

He was ranting, yet I could still understand.

I was not normal. Not even on Wielder standards.

"You have two Special Energies. It's not possible. The possestion should have worked, it should have worked. The second power, it . . . It blocked me. This is impossible."

Two Special Energies.

I have two Special Energies.

I am not one bit normal.

Somehow, I felt amused. Maybe it's all caught up to me, and I'm going insane.

I am different, even as a Wielder.

It clicked, suddenly; this second power, whatever it happened to really be, had saved me.

And now I have to use that chance it gave me to save Zach. And Emerald, and Mackenzie, and Ethan and Gemma and Jordan and Vent. And maybe . . . maybe even Clare.

"A mental block," Herobrine said, still on the ground, sounding as if the world were crashing down. And maybe, perhaps, for him it was. "Your second power is a mental block. They're so rare, those energies. I've only ever seen them once before."

Then, suddenly, footsteps began racing, and to my shock, Clare settled herself beside him, her expression washed with worry.

"Herobrine!" she screamed. "Are . . . Are you alright?" She reached her hand down to touch his shoulder, and almost like a bolt of lightning, his hand shot up and grabbed her wrist in a hold that looked tight as tight and as strong as iron.

"You . . . I need . . ." Even from several blocks away, I could see his desperation, his tremebling. His white eyes flashed in fear. His calm was breaking.

"I need you," he finished, "I need you so that I may live."

"What . . ." Clare tried to pull her hand back, but Herobrine's grip stayed stiff. I grunted and tried to stand, but it was too much for my wobbling legs and I fell to the ground again, landing on my wrists. Clare looked slightly panicked and very confused. "What're you saying, sir?"

"Nya has a second SE. A mental block. That's why I couldn't possess her. Clare, you're my only hope. I've lost too much energy to return to the Overworld as this bodiless form. Clare, I need your body as a vessel."

Clare struggled again, but to no avail. So she stopped, and looked Herobrine dead in the eye; "This was not part of the deal. You would posses Zach, a human, and if that didn't work, you'd take over Nya. I never joined you for the purpose of being your carrier for the rest of eternity."

Then another voiced joined the picture. "What's going on?!"

I turned towards the inside of the indestrucable glass room, the one where everyone except Ethan was in. Emerald was there, and her eyes were their usual alert blue, and they were storming.

Vent was rubbing his temples, and both Gemma and Mackenzie were beside Zach, and seemed to be inspecting him. He was still definitely alive, his chest rising and falling evenly. Jordan had his bow pulled back, and the arrow was pointed at the whole in the wall, clear because of the burn marks staining the edges. Emerald stood beside him, looking angrier than I had ever seen her before. She yelled out again.

"Clare! What have you done?"

"Get them under control again, Clare," Herobrine hissed, finally releasing his grip on her wrist. She shot back up, standing and stumbling away from him.

Herobrine scowled at her. "I said: get them under control!"

Clare swallowed, then closed her eyes and concerntrated. She was becoming paler and paler as the seconds rolled on,

but my attention was snapped to a grip on my upper arm. I looked up to see what it was, and I saw Ethan was on his feet above me, his eyes dazed and confused.

“Nya? Where are we? What’s been happening?”

My eyes widened. “Ethan? Holy . . . Are you okay?”

He knitted his eyebrows together. “I . . . I don’t know.” His gazed scanned the surrounding, and I could imagine his shock; the nether walls, the constant, intense heat, our friends on the other side of wall with a hole burnt into it, Herobrine on the ground, shuddering, Clare looking as though she were squeezing the life out of herself. Zach, covered in now-dried blood. Jordan, with his bow aimed right through the gap, with which Clare was standing to the left of.

Something in Ethan’s eyes clicked; they became steely and aware, and very, very angry.

“What the hell?” He yelled, turning to Clare, who was still pale as a ghost, lost in her mind. He pulled me up onto my unsteady feet and held me by my forearms to keep me balanced. “Clare, what the hell are you doing? Why are you serving him? He killed Emily!”

And before I knew it, Ethan froze; his stance stiffened, his voice harshly silenced. Then he looked at me – his eyes burning white – and, with a face as blank as a canvas, threw me back to the ground. Pain exploded in my head The same things were happening to the others; their eyes turning the same shade as Herobrine’s. I felt intense disappointment and hopelessness; Clare was gaining back her control.

But she was paying for it dearly. She looked even weaker than before, shaking on her feet, looking as though she would topple over any moment. Then, with a voice as sorrowful as a bird with no wings, she said “You’re wrong. It was me. It was all me.”

This girl killed my best friend and my sister; this girl ruined my life beyond a point of repair. This girl could start the beginning of Herobrine’s reign of the Overworld. This girl . . . this girl could change the future in more ways than it should be possible.

But this girl was not evil.

She’s made mistakes. Bad, bad mistakes that cannot and will not be forgiven. But she is not evil; if anything, she’s alone. Alone in a world that doesn’t understand her or why she feels loyal to Herobrine. She doesn’t know how to face anything except the path she chose for herself months ago.

This girl isn’t evil . . . She’s lost.

And suddenly, I pitied her, because she had no one, nothing, to help her find her way back to the righteous path she strayed from. I actually pitied the murderer to single-handedly destroyed two of the people I loved most.

Not single-handedly, I realised. She never did anything herself. Herobrine. It was Herobrine. He brainwashed her, he changed her, warped her. She’s like a puppet to him; you feed her instructions – kill Tali, kill Emily, get them under control – and she obeys. But she has a will, and he hates that; the way she will disagree with his orders, sometimes, or make judgements about his decisions. And now he needs her for him to possess. She’s replaceable to him. Very, very replaceable.

But she’s realised too late to be able to save herself.

I made a choice, then and there:

It doesn’t matter how many people she has hurt. And she’s damaged too many souls to count. It doesn’t matter, because even though she’s Herobrine’s Wielder, even though she’s murdered innocent people whom I loved and still love dearly . . . She’s only a girl. A poor, lost girl.

And I would save her. From herself, from Herobrine, from the vengencful game she caught herself up in.

I'm going to save her.

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I suppose it's very predicable now . . . but there are still a few plot twists that are gonna be added ;)

This time, please don't comment what you think will happen; keep it to yourself, okay :) I don't want people to announce their guesses, and then it turns out it was right, and the surprise doesn't impact the people that read it. You get what I'm saying?

Anyways, Chapter 35 Part Two will be here soon.

QOTD: Anyone know a cool server? Do any of you guys have your own server?

- Jazz