I Am Stevie

I live in a world made of blocks. To you, this may seem strange, coming into my land with your round heads and puppet interpreters. But it is home. My name is Stevie. All my life I have lived in a two-roomed wooden house with a front door and a back door and a fenced in backyard. By day I care for the family’s plot of wheat, carrots and potatoes. By night I take my shift defending my home against the zombies, who stumble out of blackness to feast on the flesh of our village. We have a happy life, growing our crops and trading what we have for what we have not. Our leaders dress in white. They are kind, generous men who rule wisely and settle disputes fairly. My father gathers with them and the other men by the well to discuss the weather, and the zombies, and whatever else happened that day. The elders wear purple robes, and are masters of magical arts. We people come to them with problems beyond our control. They have potions and strange objects hidden in the fold of their robes. Blacksmiths wear black aprons. As all the other women in our village, my mother wears a white apron over the course brown robes of every farmer family. (Which is pretty much everyone.) And I, like the other men, wear the simple brown robes of my trade.



We have a quiet life, frequenting the church and libraries almost as much as the fields. Quiet and happy, but dull. Irrepressibly monotonous. By the time I was old enough to till the fields, I had read every book the town had to offer. They told of far-away lands and terrible beasts. I dreamed of The Nether and The End. I idolized the adventurers who traveled the many miles between the two. I frightened my siblings with stories of ‘zombie pigmen’ and the Ender Dragon until they had nightmares. Then one day, the stranger came.



Clad in diamond armor, wheeling an enchanted sword, he strode into town and right to my door. It was destiny. Clumsy but polite, he asked board of my parents, offering them a weeks’ worth of wages in emeralds. The stranger had power, such power. Sometimes he would accidentally destroy a door or block of our walls. Apologizing profusely, he fixed it with what seemed like magic, and showered emeralds upon my parents. Naturally, they were pleased. By day he would amble around town, watching us with wonder, taking everything as a magnificent discovery. The library pleased him greatly. But he never lingered, never spoke beyond warm civility, and never touched anything. Occasionally he would stride off into the endless plains, and not return till dusk. The curiosity was killing me, so I followed him. He built. All day. Machines, amazing machines which moved on their own, and massive structures. A little cart ran along a track, up a hill he had made, and down, and into the ground and back up, around and around. I longed to ride it.



When night fell, the stranger would tell stories. First he spoke only of ‘jungles’ and ‘caves,’ but one night he started telling a story I recognized. Describing the Nether with precision and detail, he led us on an adventure through the realm of darkness. I sat forward, listening. It was enthralling. The next day I tailed him out to the build site. After tinkering with the one he called a ‘roller coaster,’ he went inside a large castle. The cart stood ready, waiting, open. I leaped into it and started up the hill. The ground spread like a map before me as I rose higher and higher. The cart crested the hill. I hurtled down with a speed unbeknownst to me before or after the experience. Straight into the depths of the earth I rode, into the gaping maw of darkness. I had never been underground before. Walls flashed by. Then, a spark of light, and I was back into the sunlight, whizzing along the tracks back towards the starting station…and the stranger. His face was grim as he lifted me out of the cart. He asked if I liked it. I replied I did, very much. Breaking into a grin, he swung me around. Wasn’t it brilliant? Wasn’t it fast? Yes, yes, the fastest thing I’d ever ridden. Where else would I like to go? What else would I like to see? Look! Listen! Walk! Jump! Fly! Fly?! He lifted me into the air. It was as exhilarating as the roller coaster. A squat black building lay on the outskirts of his marvelous village. What was it? Somewhere I was never to go, he told me very sternly.



So, naturally, the next night I sneaked out to see what it was. Ducking into the sunken doorway, I made my way into the earth. A portal shone at the end of the hall. A doorway to The End. Eyes wide with wonder, I tiptoed to it. Staring into the starry depths, I thought I saw a flicker of movement. I lent forward over the void. Was that…? A loud, angry voice startled me, and I tumbled into the portal, and into The End. Stumbling in sickening circles, I tumbled out of the portal and onto the rough sand of The End. Tall, black creatures turned to face me. Endermen. Shaking with fear, I tried to back into the portal. It wasn’t there! I turned and groped my way through the semi darkness. A loud crack echoed off the obsidian pillars and the stranger appeared before me. Striding past me, I could practically feel his anger. He removed a bow from his back. I looked around. The Ender Dragon’s gaping maw was gaining on me quickly. I’m told the stranger quickly destroyed the monster and transported me back. I wouldn’t know. I was out cold. All I know, is that I had the most amazing adventure with a man whose name I don’t even know. He returned me to my home and left without a backward glance. He is my hero, and I shall tell his story for generations.