Chapter 35, Part II: The Girl With A Choice.

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- Nya's POV -

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But, it was easier said than done.

Herobrine forced himself up onto his feet, stumbling and looking extremely unbalanced and unsophsticated. Rather than his normal calm and cold exterior, he was radiating pure panic, desperation, fear. He was almost like someone completely different.

He looked at Clare; his eyes were as wide and unclear as a madman's. "Clare," he said, and his voice had remarkabely gained some conposture, "you are my Wielder, and my only hope. You understand, don't you?"

Clare glanced at me from the corner of her eye. I opened my mouth to scream at her - No! No! You're giving your life away! - but before the words escaped she replied to him;

"Yes, sir."

"No!" I yelled out, but it was too late. Herobrine had already shot forwards, grasping her wrists.

Why am I always too late?

Then, something whizzed by in the air, hitting Herobrine's right shoulder; an arrow. More specifically, Jordan's arrow.

I turned towards him now. Clare's brief hestiation with answering, her quick look at me . . . it must have shattered her control over my friends for a moment. And that moment had to have been long enough for Jordan to shoot.

Or . . .

"Did you get him to shoot me?" Herobrine hissed, pushing Clare away and grabbing onto his shoulder. But it wasn't bleeding. It didn't even look like it had hurt him. I suppose it made sense; he was a spirit, a bodiless soul afterall. If anything, he looked beyond irritated. And he was glaring at Clare.

"I -" she started.

"You did, didn't you!" Herobrine interupted, anger filling his voice. Then, he became icily calm. "I thought I could trust you, Clare." His voice was even, his gaze on her steady.

"It's not my fault," Clare defended, "I- Sometimes my powers act based on my impulses, and you grabbed me, so I-"

"Silence," Herobrine stated, tone icy, much different then before. "I'm disappointed in you, Clare. I thought you could control yourself better."

Clare's eyes regained her trademark flash of anger. It was something I hadn't seen in a while, and it brought me hope.

"Well, maybe next time, don't suddenly grab me and tell me to give up my life for yours!"

Almost as soon as the defiant words left her mouth, she looked regretful.

"You dare speak against me? I was the one who saved you when you were going through your own hell! If it weren't for me, you'd be dead, lying on a floor with blood pouring out of your wrists!"

Clare flinched, and her eyes squeezed shut, as if reliving a painful memory. Curiosity sparked inside me, even in this hopeless situation, and I wondered why Herobrine's words caused Clare to react so badly.

"I . . . I was different back then," Clare said, but the fight in her voice had disappeared, leaving no trace of ever existing.

"I can hardly tell," Herobrine retorted, and Clare's expression turned offended and sorrowful. "You still look the same to me now as you did when I first met you; that sad, scared girl, suffering because of her selfish parents' deaths and the loneliness of being human-"

"Shut up!" Clare said, her voice sharp and alight. "Don't you dare talk about my parents like that!"

"Well, it is true," Taunted Herobrine, and I hated him even more in that moment; he was purposely winding Clare up with insults that obviously hurt. I tried to sit up, and failed, again.

Clare dug her nails into her palms. "My parents weren't selfish. They were regal."

"So you keep telling yourself," He sounded humoured. "yet they still died and left you with nothing."

"It's not their fault they died!" Clare cried out, "it was the mobs that killed them!"

Herobrine flashed a smirk, but it was gone so quick that Clare mustn't have seen it since she didn't say anything. It was an evil, deadly smirk; as sharp and cruel as a blade.

Then I remembered the Legend; the story Steve had told me not too soon after we met, about a boy who left his family and gained control of the night's creatures . . . and became a demon . . . The boy who's name haunts my nightmares . . .

I imagined my parents dying, and how much pain that would cause me, and then I imagined them being murdered. It was much, much worse of a feeling, and I felt a rush of anger and even the thought of someone harming my family.

Then I remember someone already has.

"How could you!" I scream out to Herobrine, but my cry was met with a kick of Ethan's boot to my chest. I keep going, though; "You murderous, soulless thing! How many people have you killed? Dozens, hundreds? You killed her parents!"

"Hush, Nya," He snaps in return, breaking his eye contact with Clare to glare at me.

But Clare had already caught on. "You . . . You control mobs . . . You - You killed them?" She managed to get out. She was trembling even harder now, thanks to the weight of her SE and the betrayal I knew she was feeling. "You murdered my parents?"

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- Clare's POV -

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It was a normal day when it happened. I'd recently started taking up classes at the University, and I was content with my life as a whole. I would visit my parents every weekend. It was a simple life, one I treasured . . . and one that, I know now, I took for granted.

Since it was a Sunday night, I figured it would be nice to see my parents once more until the week started up again and I would run out of time. So I walked down the cold and dull-lit street, alone and quiet.

Then I started hearing noises. They were soft, but I caught them anyways, and I stopped my steps completely so I could hear them clearer.

Screams. Panic. Cries for help.

I ran, knowing in the back of my mind that the dreadful and sickening sounds were coming from near my parents' place. I stopped trying to be quiet and sprinted towards the cries; they became louder and louder and even more awful the closer I got. All the while, I was holding down a feeling of panic; No, It couldn't be Mum and Dad.

I came up to an intersection, turned towards the sounds. I could barely make it out, since it was so far off, but I could see what was happening.

A mob attack.

Part of me said to run away; another one said to go find help. But the dominent part of me had to go help them myself.

So I sprinted towards the attack, the screams becoming understandable now;

"Please! Someone help us! They're everywhere, oh Notch, they're everywhere!"

I felt cold to the bone but I kept running until I reached a small turn-off street. It was dark, but I could make out the slow, hungry movements of zombies roaming around, bashing down doors and chasing anyone who tried to run away. Skeletons were there, too; firing arrows at anyone who tried to fight against the huge, seemingly unstoppable flood of zombies pouring their way into house after house.

I thought clicked; This is Mum and Dad's street.

I won't go into detail about what happened next, because it hurts too much; people were dead everywhere, rotten flesh littered the ground like snow, even some houses were lit up by the Defencement's drive against the mobs. But the "protectors" came to late to save the fourteen people who died that night.

I remember, after all the monsters had been killed, the Defencement asked me why I didn't call for help sooner. My reply was "Because I needed to find them." I knew I must have seemed crazy, covered in guts and blood and gore, standing outside a scene of mass murder, but I didn't care because I still needed to find them.

They asked me who I was looking for, and I said "Let me search." They gave me funny looks, obviously doubting my sanity, but I stayed standing.

They said, "Fine, but be quick. Which house is yours?" I pointed to a brick home a few houses away from where we were standing, and they shot me worried looks because the house was clearly ransacted.

"Okay then. Be back quick." They send two people to come with me, but I ignored them, and walked over to my parents' home, which was casting a twisted shadow across the blood-splattered pavement as dawn made its way into the morning.

The front door was gone, smashed to the floor, and the lights had been put out. It was dark and silent and scary.

"Mum?" I called. "Dad?"

There was no answer.

There was an iron sword lying on the ground, stained and dirty. Arrows were flewn across the room on random angles.

"Mum? Dad?" I called out again.

I could feel the Defencement workers' eyes on me, and I could sense their pity. But I wasn't giving up.

"Hey, I know you guys are here." This time my voice cracked.

"Miss Jones - " Someone started to say, but I interupted.

"Dad! C'mon, stop playing with me!"

I felt someone's hand my shoudler, and I flinched, breaking off into a run up the stairs, towards my parents' bedroom. I ran through the hallway, throwing open the doors.

"Mum! Dad! Where are you?" I yelled. Then I saw it.

My mum was lying on the bed, pale as a sheet, unaware of the world.

"Oh, thank Notch, mum," I sighed, kneeling beside the bed. "I thought you were gone."

She didn't reply.

"Mum?" I asked, softly. "Mum, what's the matter? Why are you so pale? Are you sick?"

She didn't reply.

I looked down towards her stomach, where an arrow was embedded into her skin, tried blood stained across her nightgown. There was a trickle of blood in the corner of her mouth, too.

"Mum? Mum?"

I felt a hand on my shoudler again, but this time it was more forceful, dragging me away from the bedside. I instantly lashed out, screaming and thrashing. "No! Let go of me! Mum! Mum!"

"Shh," they comforted, but to me it sounded like a hiss. "C'mon, let's get you out of here," they said.

"No! You can't leave her behind! She's sick! You need to get her help! She's sick!"

They didn't reply to me; instead they pulled me out of the house and back to the rest of the Defensement, where they told me worthless lies like 'Fatal large scale mob attack' and 'I'm so sorry'.

My Dad was never found, and my Mum's ghostly body, intact except for a cruel arrow in her chest, haunted my dreams for months.

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School became mechanical. Life became robotic. They would tell me things like 'grief diappears over time' and 'it'll get better' but I don't - I can't - believe them. They have no idea what it's like to loose the only family you've ever had.

One day I almost do it; join them, I mean. There certainly wasn't anything left for me here. After I begged and begged, the Uni kept the news of my parents' death a secret. Only me and some of the lecturers know.

Then I felt someone's hands on my wrists. "Hey," they said, but I couldn't see them past the blurriness of the tears in my eyes.

I didn't answer; just stood there, frozen, expecting them to go away. I was vaguely embarrased that they had found me like this; hidden in the corner of the library, crying. I was an artist when it came to acting in front of my friends, and I didn't want some stranger knowing I was that weak.

"Hey," they said again, "you alright?" They were in front of me, knelt on the ground.

"I'm fine," I said, though it was clearly a lie. "Just please do me a favour and leave me alone."

"You don't look that fine," they replied, standing up. They offered me a hand. "and frankly, I wouldn't be fine in your situation."

"My situation?" I stammered. No one else was supposed to know. Something msut have slipped. It was only a matter of time.

"I know how you feel. It sucks, and I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity," I said, turning my head away. "I don't need anyone's pity."

Their hand was still hovering in the air. "I guessed that much. I just figured it was something polite to say."

I turn my head back towards them, dark hair covering my face and partly blocking my gaze. "You said you know how I feel? That's either pity and false comfort on the highest level or the truth."

"It's the truth," they said, finally drawing back their hand. Surprisingly, they take a seat next to me. I'm too embarrest to look them in the eye. "My parents died when I was a kid."

"That sucks," I said.

"Yeah," they agreed. We sat in silence for a little while until I asked "So what's your name?"

"Herobrine," they answered, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Herobrine? Is that some kind of traditional one hundred year old name or what?"

He laughed. "No, just something a little inventive. So," he said, standing up and offering me a hand again, "you wanna get off the ground?"

"Sure," I said, taking his hand and letting him pull me up to my feet. I tossed my hair to the side, clearing my vision, and I was suddenly taken aback; Herobrine's eyes were a white emptyness.

"What -" I stutter, more confused than scared. "What . . . your eyes."

"Yeah," he said, smiling; it warmed up his face. "They're different."

That's how it all started. Everything. We grew close, and when he said he could give me powers that could make me the opposite of weak and needy, I happily agreed. Eventually, I started doing his dirty work too.

Then he started to change, and in turn, I changed as well.

But not for the better.

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- Nya's POV -

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The anger in Clare's voice rang around the room, bouncing off walls and creating its own menacing vibe.

Herobrine scoffed. "I'm surprised you couldn't figure it out sooner. I mean, I do control night time mobs."

"You monster," Clare spat, her breaths heaving. "You killed them just so you had an excuse to befriend me?"

Herobrine raised an eyebrow at her. "Please do remember that you've killed people too, Clare."

Clare's eyes widened in rage. "You were the one who told me! You saved me from depression, you brainwashed me and then you told me to murder people! I know that two girls are dead because I killed them, but if it weren't for you then they'd still be alive!"

Clare shot me a look then; I'm sorry.

I could feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes, but I held them back. I tried to communicate to her without speaking, trying to reflect my message into my eyes; Please, for the love of Notch, release your control of my friends. Please, Clare.

I don't know if she got it, but she turned around back to face Herobrine. "I'll never give up my life for you," she started saying, and her words were like sharpend iron, "Hell, I mightn't have much of a life left anymore, but I'd rather keep it that way then let you live properly again."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice in the matter, Clare." Herobrine stated, taking a step forwards.

Suddenly, Ethan snapped, drawing out his sword. He stared at Herobrine, his blade outstretched, the tip pointing right at him. Ethan's eyes were still icy white.

"That's where you're wrong. I do have a choice." She shot a glance at my friends, gathered together on the other side of the wall, their eyes colourless, before turning to me. Our gazes held for a moment before she turned back towards Herobrine, who looked outraged.

She smiled at him. "I'm a girl with a choice. A choice that only I control."

Herobrine sighed, as if in disappointment. "If you want to play it that way," he said, "Fine."

Then a sword formed in his hand. Glittering and sparkling, blue in even the hellish light all around us. Clare suddenly looked nervous, but her chin was still raised high; something that hadn't happened in ages. She looked independent.

Ethan jerked towards Clare, sprinting lightning fast until he was standing in front of her, facing Herobrine in a defensive position. Herobrine instantly lowered his sword, and he tauntingly called out to Clare. "Using your friends as protection, are you? Seems to me that your 'choice' is as selfish as my dreams of enpowerment are."

Clare's eyes flashed with doubt and guilt, and with a flick of her wrist, Ethan turned around and dropped his sword into Clare's hand. Then he moved back, away from the two vengeful spirits that were staring at each other like dogs preparing to fight.

"I'm going to kill you," Clare said. "I'm going to destroy what ever is left of you."

"Not if I posses you first."

I chose to release my fire then, and the burning, powerful rush of flames was blasted between the two of them, not only seperating them, but also turning the gap in the wall into a hole the size of a doorway. Clare and Herobrine had both stummbled back in opposite directions, blinded by my hot orange light.

But I still couldn't pull myself from the ground.

"Clare, go." I said. I knew it was a dangerous move, but there was no way in hell she could face Herobrine by herself. "Go and let me handle him. You've done enough."

She gave me a cold, hard glare; it was determinded and desperate, raging and emotionless all at the same time, as if she was telling me No, Nya. I haven't done enough. I'll never be able to do enough.

I tried to stand, but only got to my knees before I crumpled back down again. I cursed myself as Herobrine laughed at my helplessness.

"Or, maybe, I should kill you first." he said, smiling. He tossed his sword and caught it again. "It doesn't look like it would be too hard to do."

Suddenly, Clare was there, swinging her sword towards his shoulder. Wielder speed. But with an even quicker movement Herobrine dodged out of the way and swung his sword to meet hers.

When I looked at her, her face was pulled tight with effort and exhaustion, beads of sweat forming on her temples, I realised that she was no more human than me or Zach or anyone else. A light was shining in her eyes; something determined. Something hopeful.

"Nya!" She screamed, pushing her blade against Herobrine's, "Let me control you! I'll make you stronger!"

Her voice was pleading and surprisingly honest, raw. I bit my lip quickly, because as much as I still distrusted her, right now in this situation, I had no choice but to work with her. But still, common sense was that the strain could kill her. "You can't! You're already overworked your powers too much! You could die!"

"It doesn't matter!" She yelled, back, still in combat with Herobrine, who was obviously overpowering her. "Do it! Let me in! Lower your shield!"

But how?

I forced myself to block it out; first the sounds of blades clanging, lava hissing, and ghasts screaming, then the colours of the Nether and Clare's hair and Zach's limp body, until all I could see was darkness and all I could hear was distant ringing. But how do you get rid of something you didn't even know you had?

Something penetrated the darkness that surrounded me; something sharp. It was difficult to explain, almsot as if the darkness was me. Then it hit again, and again. I instinctively kept reparing the holes it was making in the blackness, buring the puncture wounds. A voice sounded, loud and clear above the soft ringing. "Nya! Let me in, let me in! Or we'll both die!"

Clare. There was another sharp jab, and another hole formed; this time, I fought back everything to keep myself from fixing it. Then more knife wounds, until all I wanted to do was scream. It was all in my head, I knew; that's where I was. I was in my mind, and my goal was to stop the mental shield.

I stopped trying to fix the holes and ignored the pain. Slowly, slowly, more white light entered the blackness, chasing it away, until all I could see, feel, was a searing brightness . . .

Suddenly the colour rushed back into the world, and there I was, standing tall and strong with fire burning in my palms. I heard Clare's voice again, but it came from inside my head; "You did it, you lowered the shield. I wasn't 100% sure it was possible. Thank Notch - now we have at least a chance to live."

"Now what?" I ask, but the words don't physically leave my mouth.

"Now, we kick some ass."

My arm lifted, aiming and Herobrine and shooting raging flames from my fingertips. It was a lot more graceful than I'd originally thought; so much more peaceful. It wasn't at all what I suspected mind control would be like.

"I know; the rest of them had the same reaction." she said.

"What the hell?" I replied.

"Yeah, slight disadvantage; I can hear your thoughts."

Herobrine growled, and lurched fowards. The real Clare tossed me her blade.

"You go stand somewhere safer, and I'll - well, really you - can fight Herobrine. You can release me from the mind manipulation if it hurts too much."

The real Clare scoffed. "Just don't faint on me!"

I inwardly flashed a grin, and with the strength of two combined Wielders, my sword met Herobrine's. In a normal situation, I would never have been able to oppose him in sword-fighting, but apparently Clare was an expert. She dodged and flicked and slashed like she had trained her whole life.

Then I felt it; a quick, throbbing pain, harsh and harmful. It hit all around my body, making me want to scream in shock and hurt. "What was that?" I asked.

"Nothing," she lied.

"It's all the effort, isn't it? Isn't it? Clare, you're going to kill yourself if you keep this up!"

"It's happened before. It's nothing. Just make sure that you keep the mental shield down." she defended.

"Clare, stop controlling the others. Stop it now."

"If I do that, they could die."

"They can take care of themselves. If you keep this up, you're going to die." I promised I'd save you.

There was another throb, and my fighting posture wavered for a moment; long enough for Herobrine to connect the tip of the blade with my shoulder. I felt the burning pain spread from me to Clare, and I heard her real self gasp.

"Do it!" I hissed.

There was a rush that felt similar to wind, and the throbbing stopped. I heard Ethan's gasp from behind me and I heard Gemma's startled squeal.

"Stay there!" Clare yelled. "Stay where you are, all of you!"

I don't know what the situation must of looked like to them, but it must've seemed pretty awful because Jordan angriliy called out "Clare, stop what ever the hell you're doing!"

I wanted to scream out a reply; No, it's not her! She's on our side!; but I knew the message would never reach them.

"I'm going to release you, too." Clare whispered. "I need them to believe me. They could get hurt."

"But won't I just fall to the ground with wobbly knees again?" I asked. Herobrine seemed temporariliy distracted my my friends.

"No," she replied. "I'm going to give you some of my energy. I've only done this once before, so I'm sorry if it hurts a little."

A harsher rush fell around me this time; in fact it was so harsh it burned. But it hardly lasted three seconds before it was over, and I felt my own legs holding me up, and I could hear my own voice yell out "Trust her!"

The sword was in my hands now, and I felt like I had the power of the sun behind me.

"Nya?" Ethan's voice was disbelieving and shocked and confused. "Oh Notch, what is going on?"

"Stand back," I said. Then I narrowed my eyes at Herobrine. "This time, I will end this. I'll leave you here to rot as a spirit and we will all soon forget you."

"It's not as easy as it sounds, dear Nya." He said, before jumping at me with a snarl.

I dogded to the left and swung the sword at him; it seemed heavier now. He moved away from it easily, and I had to raise the blade to block one of his attacks.

"I see you've been practicing. Let's see how much it payed off."

Then he pulled away the sword and curved it in the air, aiming to cut across my stomach. I moved away just in time, narrowly missing the edge.

"Fast, but not fast enough." He taunted, flipping around the sword and hitting me backwards with the hilt. The whole move took him less than a second, and I was left breathless and amazingly sore.

I flashed out my blade, and it sliced his skin shallowly, tearing his shirt. He knelt down fast as lightning and used the flat side of the blade to sweep my feet out from under me, and I crashed to the ground.

"You fall yet again," He commented, looking irritated.

Another arrow shot from the doorway in the wall; it hit Herobrine again, in the other shoulder, and he roared in anger and staggered away from me. Jordan's second arrow. I looked over to the doorway - Emerald and Gemma had their iron blades in their hands, and Jordan had just lowered his bow while Vent and Mackenzie bow had their bows pulled back and aimed through the gap.

"Don't go near her." Jordan's voice rang out across the palace room, strong, sure and angry.

"What -" Herobrine started, but before he could utter another word, Mackenzie let her arrow fly. It shot through the air and slammed into his chest, causing him to gasp in shock and stumble backwards. But there wasn't any blood.

I took advantage of his distraction and leaped up, but I knew using my pathetic sword skills again could mean a lot more trouble. So instead, I dropped the blade and brought my hands out in front of me.

Fire, I thought. And they obeyed, pouring out of my open palms, shooting towards Herobrine. He screamed, and the flames circled him, blinding and suffocating him in wraps of bright orange and yellow.

I held it for a few more moments before I cut the flames off, fearing that my remaining strength could diminish too fast if I overuse it. Herobrine was hunched on the ground, his clothes remarkably unscathed. He himself, though, was coughing and spluttering.

"Seems to me that you're the one who's fallen." I spat, smirking; something I haven't done it a long, long time.

I used the only chance I might ever get to sprint over to the gang. I knew, I knew I knew I knew that that was wrong, but I also knew that their was no way I'd be able to kill Herobrine without Zach at least being awake. I knew it like I knew that stars shine.

Their eyes were all wide and confused, but colourful. Emerald dropped her sword and ran up to meet me, hugging me tightly.

"Holy crap, Nya," she gasped. "This was the worst day ever."

I laughed softly and hugged her back, before letting go and running over to Zach. His hand was on his forehead, and he was laying on his back, groaning. I knelt beside him and sighed.

"You idiot, Zach," I said. "You nearly got killed."

He opened his eyes, and their familiar hazel was almost comforting. I glanced back at Herobrine, who was still panting hard, and then to Clare who had her sword in her hand and was walking towards him with a vengeful glow in her eyes. I didn't bother calling out to her.

I turned back to Zach. He smiled. "Gee, thanks for the heartfelt concern," he teased.

I laughed, and then leaned over and hugged him. He did so back, tightly, warmly, and I whispered "I missed you, you idiot."

He grinned into my shoulder. "Right back at you, Ny."

I got up quickly, then; flashed him a smile and turned around back to Herobrine. Emerald was standing beside me, her presence surprisingly comforting. I felt sparks flicker in my palms, but they seemed somewhat calmer, more controlled. Maybe it was because a huge weight had been lifted off my chest when I'd spoken to Zach.

Because I knew at the back of my mind that there was a small chance that it would be the last time, ever.

Mackenzie walked up beside me; her eyes were shallow and haunted and scared, but she was a survivor and would live through a few future nightmares.

"Look, Mackenzie," I said, rushed, "I'm sorry for dragging you into this."

She turned to me, and smiled softly, surprising me greatly. "You didn't. Clare did. None of this is your fault. Besides," she sighed, "it's nice to be a help for once."

"You've been great," I replied, a little overwhelmed. "Abosultely awesome."

She flashed a grin. "Thanks, Nya."

I smiled back and faced Herobrine and Clare again, but with one glance at the situation I knew I shouldn't interfer, no matter how much I wanted to. So I stood still.

Herobrine was at the feet of Clare, who had her chin raised and her lips pressed into a tight line. Her hands gripped the hilt of her sword like it were a million diamonds worth.

"You deceived me. You warped me and shaped me to be something I hate. I've killed people because of you." She spoke clearly, although there was a slight tremor in her voice. "And now," she said, "I'll kill you."

"I'd like to see you try," he spat, but Clare still raised the sword over her shoulder, preparing to swing. I froze on the spot and watched. I found myself taking in every detail of him; the way his eyes were like an empty void, the way he stills holds himself regally, as if he were lost royalty; the colour of his skin and hair and clothes.

Then, right before she swung, he said words that even made me shudder in anger; "I wonder if this is what your parents felt like before they died."

Her stance wavered, and she visibly trembled. But she still swung.

Not fast enough.

Herobrine dodged the blade expertly, smacking it to the side. Clare was off balance, and in her moment of weakness he kocked her legs out from under her and she fell with a heavy grunt.

Then he turned to me.

Suddenly a bow formed in his hand. He lodged an arrow and aimed. I didn't have my sword to use as a shield, but that was the only thought I could muster before he shot the arrow. It flew through the air faster than anything I'd ever seen. It had barely taken him a single second to aim and fire. And I was the target.

They say you're life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. I didn't see that; I heard my thoughts echo: I'm coming, Tali.

I didn't close my eyes.

And I watched as the arrow missed me and hit the girl who had become an obstacle between us. Mackenzie fell with a thud, her brown hair flowing like a landing at my feet.

I dropped to the ground beside her. I felt lost and hopeless. The world blurred except for the arrow that had struck her above the heart.

I heard Emerald's scream echo around the throne room. Blood was all over my hands; too much blood. I couldn't see past the tears, but I knew that Mackenzie was dying right in front of me. Just like Tali had.

I cried out in agony, not knowing what to do. Jordan appeared next to me but I hardly noticed because my friend was dying. The friend who had the courage of a hero.

She looked up at my through an expression of pain. Her dark, navy eyes were narrowed and astonishingly bright, life shining through them like that's all she was. But the rest of her was unmoving, weak and splattered with red.

"Not again," I whispered. "Please, no."

Her eyes focussed on me, and to my horror they were gradually becoming duller. "Nya . . ." She whispered, "Save . . . Them . . . All . . . of . . ."

She coughed up blood, and for a spilt second all I could think about was how I didn't save my sister. I held her hand even tighter, fighting the urge to scream, replaying her sacrifice in my head over and over and over. The only thing that brought me to the real world was Clare's angered shout; "Nya! Help me!"

I lifted my eyes away from Mackenzie, and took several moments to focus on Clare, who was up on her feet now and clashing it against a smug looking Herobrine. I looked down at Mackenzie again, her light brown hair tangled, spread out like a halo, her hands clasped over the wound that would bring death to her just like it had Tali. Yet another death caused by a being that had lived only to create misery.

A dark, cold hatred rose up inside me; something lost and broken. It took over and I only saw Herobrine, who was fighting Clare and seemed as though he was enjoying obviously beating her, like there was nothing left that could stop him. He was arrogant and confident, and those flaws would mean the death of him. I was going to make sure of it.

"Calm down, Clare," he taunted, "I promise that if you let me posses you that no one else will die. Except Nya and Zach, of course."

"N-no!" she stuttered, dodging yet another swing.

He sighed in irritance. "Fine, then, I guess I'l have to make you calm down myself."

Before he could even move an inch, my fire coursed out of my palms and hit him in the side, throwing him all the way to the opposite wall where he crashed and fell to the ground. But my fire wasn't normal; it was a different shade of red. It was the colour of blood.

He coughed and stood up on shaky legs. I ran over to him with abnormal speed, blasting yet another heap of flame at him. It hit right on target and he crashed into the wall again, harder.

Then Clare was beside me. "Nya, chill," she said, and her voice seemed odd somehow, "or you'll burn the entire place down."

I shook my head and then I saw what was really happening; flames were dancing everywhere, as if they'd escaped my grip. They were racing through the air in all different directions, crazy and untameable and powerful. They were magnificent to watch, and I didn't want to stop them. But Clare was right; everywhere they touched they were burning holes, and the throne room was starting to become unstable.

So I bit my lip hard and called them back, but they were different than normal flames. Just like their colour, they were out for blood.

"Nya," Clare whispered, and then I realised why she sounded weird; she was scared. Of me and my strange fire.

I hissed and forced them back, pulling them until they were back in my hands and back inside me. I felt them burning, hissing, wanting nothing more than to escape and cause destruction wherever they went. It was dark, evil, deep fire; and yet, my fire.

Clare grabbed my elbow, drawing me back from my thoughts. She nodded towards Herobrine, and I followed her gaze. He was once again on the ground, coughing and spluttering; once again a victim of my Special Energy.

But he had the audacity to raise his head in a smirk. "It's funny how you think you can defeat me," he croaked, as if the fire had burnt his throat; "because, my dear Wielders, the reality is that I'm immortal. I'll live as long as you live." He pointed and Clare, and she breathed in a harsh breath.

"I may not have the power to travel back to the real world in this state, but as long as I have you, Clare; my Wielder; I will stand a chance against the odds. I'll posses you even if you don't let me."

Then he switched his gaze to me, and his eyes filled with hatred. "And once I'm back to my full power, you will die, Nya Christen Analove."

I glared right back at him, and the dark fire started fighting against me from the inside; demanding it be let out so it could torture him in the worst way possible. I fought it back weakly, because a part of me wanted that to happen. A large part of me.

Suddenly, Clare gripped my elbow tighter. "He's right," she said.

"About what?" I replied through my teeth.

She let go of my arm and held onto her own wrist, her eyes dancing with blue colours of ice. She stood there for what felt like an eternity, but I saw a decision pass through her; her eyes hardened in determination and finality. She turned to me and gripped my hands, and I looked back at her confusedly.

"Nya, he's right." She said again, this time more rushed. "He's right. We can't kill him; he's not really alive, anyway. The best we can do is imprison him somewhere where he can't ruin anyone's life ever again."

I narrowed my eyes at her, and the vengeful burning of the dark flame inside me started to cease. "Clare, what are you saying?"

Her gaze was tough as stone. "I'll die, and then he'll never have a chance to escape."

My heart stopped beating for a moment. "No, no Clare. Come with us back to the surface. We can leave him here to stay."

She looked down and breathed out a lungful of air, then faced me again, her expression trying, trying convince me. "Don't you see? I've drunk the near perfect Sangue Rosso; I'll never be safe to anyone up there again. There's no telling what could happen, no telling what he might know that he could use to his advantage if I were to live."

"I took it, too," I replied, desperate.

She shook her head. "You've already proven that whatever earlier version he gave you didn't work."

We stood there for a moment in silence, and the only sounds that could be heard were the faint crying of Gemma and Jordan and Emerald and Herobrine's struggles to stand on legs that had been burnt by hatred-fuelled magical fire.

"Clare-" I protested, but she shushed me.

"No, Nya. My way makes sense. You go, and I'll bring down this whole place."

"You can do that?" I asked.

She flashed a grin, but her eyes were sad. "There are a lot of things I can do. One of them is being able to manipulate structures as well."

But I was stubborn, and I had promised myself that I would save Clare. "I can't let you do it," I stated. My hands were shaking.

She smiled sadly. "Oh, Nya. I'm sorry, but this can't be stopped. This way will mean that everyone will survive . . . except for the two of us who are staying behind."

"But I promised-"

"I know." She cut off. "I know, and I'm so, so sorry. For everything."

Then she let go of my hands. I could no longer feel the strange dark red fire; only a hollowness. She glared hatefully at Herobrine.

"Let's see you try and escape here without the help of me," she spat. Then with her back to me, she raised her hands and placed them on her temples. She raised her chin, and suddenly the entire room began rumbling. When I looked closer I saw strange waves coming from Clare; waves that were making the palace tremble.

"Go now, Nya!" She screamed. "Go, and get the others to safety! There's a portal down the end of the corridoor right near Herobrine's throne! Just think about where you want it to take you, and it'll transport you to the nearest nether portal to that place!"

But I didn't move. "Clare, please . . ."

She looked at me from over her shoulder, and her icy blue eyes were deep, determinded, sad and regretful.

"Thank you, Nya. You've given me a choice that I never would have forged by myself. Thank you so much."

Then with one last soft, sad smile, she turned back around to Herobrine and pressed her hands to her temples tighter. The waves suddenly became so strong I could feel them.

"You were never by yourself," I rushed, quickly, "we were always there. I just wish we could've seen that you needed us."

And then I ran, sprinting through the now collapsing throne room, nether bricks falling from the ceiling first by themselves and then in chunks. The air roared with the sounds of smashing and booming as the palace began falling in on itself. When I reached the others, they were practically oblivious to what was going on around them, save Gemma and Ethan. They were clumped around Mackenzie.

I put a hand on Jordan's shoulder. "We have to leave," I instructed, but my voice cracked.

He glanced back at me. "We can't leave her."

"We won't. Emerald, Jordan and Ethan, you guys carry Mackenzie. Gemma, help me with Zach."

They all nodded silently, and together we all picked up our loads. Zach wanted nothing more than to carry himself, but he was too weak to get far at all.

"Where's Clare?" He asked me through gritted teeth as we began moving towards Herobrine's throne.

"She made her choice," I replied, and again my voice broke off. "It's her turn to be a hero."

Zach, who had his arms over Gemma and I who were supporting him, gazed at me with hazel eyes that shone with understanding. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Let's just get out of here," I brushed off, and pushed forwards harder.

The room was crumbling to pieces, and when we were close enough to the throne to see the small, narrow corridoor beside it, I realised that we might not even make it there in time. A huge chunk of ceiling was hanging on right above the throne itself, looking like it were clinging on for dear life. Even as I watched I could see it slowly tipping off its connection to the rest of the building.

"Go faster!" I screamed. "Hurry!"

We went as fast as we could go, and once we reached the front of the hallway; which was two by two blocks, very small; I heard the roof above us crack. We all dived forwards to get out of its way, narrowly escaping being crushed by the giant piece of nether brick. We did a quick tally to see if everyone was alright, and then moved forwards as fast as possible. The entire place was collapsing; Clare's ability was amazing. Clare.

There was a faint glow of purple up ahead, and Emerald acknowledged it first: "We're almost there, guys!"

When we got closer a pair of iron doors blocked our way, but they disintigrated immediately once I used my fire. We all rushed into the small room where the portal lay.

A loud rumble echoed all around us, and Gemma commented on it worridly. "Let's go. Now."

Emerald eyed me with her suspicious blue gaze. "Where's Clare?" She asked.

I swallowed. "She . . . She wanted to stay. She's the one making everything collapse."

Emerald's face softened to a defeated saddness, then quickly returned back to its usual stone-hardness. "One at a time," she said, roughly.

"Where do we want to go?" I asked the group.

Gemma replied first. "The hospital. For... For Mackenzie and Zach. Maybe they can make a miracle and she'll be okay."

Jordan's eyes shut tightly for a moment, then reopened, their forest green colours shrouded with misery.

Ethan was voluntarily the first person to leap through the swirling purple vortex. We all waited an agonising few seconds until he reappeared, his eyes the same colour as the portal behind him.

"It's safe," he stated. "I think it leads into somebody's basement."

"Sounds like a safe haven to me," added Zach.

The roof above us echoed the sound of cracking. "Go, go, go!" Vent shouted, following Ethan back into the portal.

Jordan and Emerald, with Mackenzie limp between them, walked into the portal together. Right before they jumped in, Emerald turned her head to the corridor behind her, her eyes shining.

"We could have saved you if you'd let us," she murmured, quietly, before disappearing into the portal.

I felt my own eyes struggling to force back tears. I shook the sad feelings out of me, though, when I heard yet another loud rumble from above us.

Gemma, who had Zach's other arm over her shoulder, helping me hold him, glanced at me. "Let's go n-"

She was cut off with an ultra loud bang from above the roof of the small room, and when I narrowed my eyes on it, I saw a large crack forming between the nether bricks.

Without saying a sword, Gemma and I moved forwards, climbing onto the portal rim and facing its violet depths. "C'mon," I whispered to Gemma.

And then we were in the portal, surrounded by dark swirling colours that made my head pound. The roof above us began crashing around the portal itself as we were transported back into our world.

I let the darkness of the portal smother me, and my mind whirled around with thoughts and images of memories I'd made with the girl I left behind.

The girl whose choice is what saved everything, in the end.

-

-

- Clare's POV -

-

My mind felt like it was tearing itself open, pain being a side effect of the sheer effort that was needed to bring down Herobrine's Palace.

I listened to the sound of Nya's footsteps as they became softer and softer, until all I could hear was the rumbling of the earthquake-like event I was creating.

Herobrine looked up at me from where he was laying on the floor. His white eyes were wide and his expression was puzzled.

"Why do this, Clare? Why sacrifice your life for the ones of the people who did nothing to save you?"

I squeezed my eyes shut to try and block out the crushing pain. "Because, Herobrine, there are things in this world you'll never understand; selflessness, dignity, the realization that sometimes you have to be the one to correct your own wrongs. It's the right thing to do. Besides, they didn't do 'nothing'. If only I'd looked past how much I felt obliaged to serve you and seen how much they really cared."

When I opened my eyes again, a huge piece of rubble fell from the ceiling and landed right beside where Herobrine lay. His eyes widened in panic and he tried to move, but failed miserabely, his legs too weakened to support his weight. I tried my best to ignore the crumbling landscape, because I knew that if I became to scared at the prospect of me, well, dying, that I would panic as well and my manipulation would cut off. I couldn't let that happen.

Herobrine suddenly gasped. "A-Alex?" He questioned, looking behind me, "I-Is that you?"

I glanced over my shoulder to follow his gaze and only saw cracking floors and fallen clumps of roof. I gulped and looked back.

"Finally going truly crazy, are you?" I questioned through gritted teeth. "Seeing invisible people?"

But he didn't seem to hear me. "Alex, no - NO." He tried to scramble away from whoever he was seeing, but his arms were shaking too badly.

"NO!" He screamed, his voice panicy and scared, leaving me oddly confused. "No, I won't follow you! I'm not going to be like you!"

"Who are you talking to?" I inquired incredulously, having to raise my voice to be heard over the sounds of destruction coming from all around us and the pounding of my head.

"Alex, please . . ." He was murmering now, cowering backwards as if he could push himself into the wall.

A huge boom struck and echoed throughout the entire deteriorating room, and when I glanced up I saw part of the wall and ceiling peeling away, slowly but surely tearing itself from its foundations and toppling over us.

I watched in amazement as the gigantic piece of nether brick broke free and fell downwards, towering over us like a red ever-nearing sky.

I glanced back down at Herobrine, who looked more scared that I'd ever seen him - he too was watching the red sky.

I remembered everything I'd been through, everything I'd done, the killing, the caring, the obeying, the hoping. I remembered the time I'd murdered Emily Day; it was a dark, lonely night. I'd followed her while she was walking home, and once we were completely safe from discovery, I'd pulled a sword on her. I tried to strike her more than once, to end her pain faster, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I'd felt like a failure.

Then there was Talia Analove. That girl had been strong, so so strong. She'd fought and fought and fought against the Mind Manipulation like a warrior would have, but in the end, I'd overran her.

I had known what I had to do - use the sword in her hands against her. Draw her death out. Make it painful.

But I couldn't do it.

Instead I manipulated her pain receptors so that she felt nothing as she died. She was screaming in my head the whole time: "Stop! Stop it! Please, please, make it stop! I don't want to die!"

I was crying and shaking. "I'm sorry," I had told her. "I'm so sorry. You're so brave . . ."

It had been the worst experience of my life. Worse than killing Emily; worse than finding my parents dead. I could hear her pleading, her desperation, howling in my mind the whole time. It had pounded in her head, but I kept doing it, I kept drawing the life from her. I didn't even know how to stop it by then.

I pulled out of her mind in the end - I couldn't handle her voice. Be sane! Please, please just stop it, please don't let me die! Don't kill me! Harry, Nya, help!

I left the scene as fast as I could, the howls of the thing I'd done that I knew I'd regret more than anything else following me, taunting, screaming, crying.

I remembered the night my parents died, the days of depression, the slavery and the cowardice.

I remembered the many things I regret and the few things I didn't; the brief time when I was accepted in the group - but never appriciated it - the weeks I had as a normal student, learning normal things; my old mind-set of simplicity.

If only there weren't so many bad memories.

The red sky approached, and I completely blocked out Herobrine's cries of mercy and shut my eyes. For yet the second time in my life, I was fine with it.

But this time it was different. This time, it had been my choice, and that was something I didn't, and never would regret.

I just prayed that I would be remembered not as a blood-thirsty demon who did terrible things, but as the girl who, in the end, died for what she wanted to die for.

-----------------------------------------------------------

There we go. I now can announce the ending of Herobrine's Revenge.

But, THERE WILL BE AN EPILOGUE THAT WILL LEAD ONTO THE NEXT BOOK, HEROBRINE'S LEGACY.

Yes, there will be a third book of The Wielder Chronicles. There'll be heaps more characters, and we'll learn more about Steve/Herobrine's old friend Alex and his long-dead family . . . or are they really long-dead?

This chapter is dedicated to all those that stuck along to see Nya and the gang through.

Keep this book in your library, and I'll add a part to it as an announcement when Herobrine's Legacy is about to be published!

(Thanks to all those who either submitted characters [still taking more] or helped me with ideas of the third book. Seriously, you guys are awesome)

Thank you, everybody!!!

- Jazz (not for the last time)

Oh!

QOTD: What do you think the third book will be about?