Chapter Text
The village burned bright and fierce, sparks flying high into the red, pink and orange sky. Many were already dead, lost to the flames or to the sword. Those who had managed to evade both fates had escaped, taking nothing with them except the clothes on their backs. Wood creaked and cracked and crashed with a groan to the ashen ground. The fire danced and licked up the remaining beams, devouring everything it could.
And in the midst of it all stood a lone figure, his face raised to the slowly lightening sky, his eyes closed. It looked as if he was relaxing like one would relax in a grass paddock or on a rainy day or, perhaps, at the beach with a slight wind and the regular crashing of the waves on the sandy shore. The firelight danced on the figure's face, turning his light skin to a patchwork of orange and red tints. After a time, the figure lowered his head and opened his eyes, gazing around at the raging fire that surrounded the village. A slight grin crept onto his face and he strode out of the village, not bothering to collect his red-stained sword. His eyes, the colour of the hottest part of the flame, were cold. Cold like death.
He walked uncaringly through the crumbling houses, stepping easily over burning wooden planks that had fallen over the path or over a body that was once alive. He left the village to its fate and disappeared into the nearby forest just as the sun peeked over the eastern horizon. It was still dark here, and it would remain so for an hour or so until the sun became high enough to break through the thick leaves. He moved fast, putting as much distance as he could between him and the scene of his crime. He didn't have a sword on him but he could simply snap his fingers and another would instantly appear in his hand.
He liked walking, but it was slow and wearying. How humans managed to do this for long distances, he never understood. Sure, many of the humans he saw weren't rich enough to have anything more than one pony for ploughing their fields or pull their cart full of goods, but they somehow managed to walk far distances from one village to the next to trade. The humans were tough and had a lot of endurance, he would give them that.
But they were never strong enough to stop him. Never.
And besides, why would one walk when one has other means to move around? He knew another forest that he quite liked. It was far enough away from civilisation that he was never bothered there, but not so far that it became a wild and untamed country where one was never safe. He pictured the place in his mind, in particular, that little patch of stone beside that stream that he liked. With a click of his fingers, the world around him shifted and changed, the grass turning to stone under his feet and the light brightening a little and the crackling of the burning village turning to the laughter of a careless stream. He crouched down and dipped his hands into the cold water, washing off some of the dirt and blood that had stuck there. Then he stood up and began walking again, a slower walk this time.
The vast majority of animals had left this part of the forest alone for a long time, leaving only a few bees and the stray bird to populate the trees. He strolled through, green light flickering down through the leaves and casting strange patterns on his skin. His normally blue shirt was stained red but it didn't bother him yet so he left it, meandering through the forest to his castle which lay hidden an hour's walk away.
Something cracked some small sticks to his left and he paused, listening, head flicking towards the sound. The sound came again and a smile crept onto his face. He flicked his hand slightly and a long dagger hissed into existence, the hilt sitting naturally in his hand. His stomach rumbled as he crept towards the sound, thinking that a young deer or a wild boar had drifted into his woods, unknowingly becoming his breakfast.
He stopped a few metres away from the creature who had made the sound, silently sighing in disappointment. It was not a wild animal, but a human. A female human to be precise, probably only around 23 years old. She was looking away from him, her golden hair catching the rays of the sun. He sheathed his dagger. It seemed that breakfast was cancelled, but the entertainment was just beginning. He took a step forward, intending to sneak up on the girl and terrify her but a branch snapped under his foot and he froze, white eyes fixed on the girl.
She didn't move.
He tilted his head slightly in confusion. The sound wasn't quiet, it had actually been quite loud. But perhaps he would stay in his hiding place.
"What are you doing here?" he growled in a low voice.
The girl didn't respond, her hand lightly running over the bark of a tree.
"I said, what are you doing here?" he barked, louder this time.
The girl still didn't move and he growled in frustration, marching up to her. Her eyes were tracing the branches of the tree under which she stood and by luck, she caught him approaching out of the corner of her eye and she spun around, a sound of fright coming from her mouth and she stumbled back, hitting the tree and sliding down it. Her eyes flicked over him, taking in the white eyes, the bloodstained shirt and pants and the dagger at his waist.
"Don't you know that trespassing is a crime?" he said sweetly. "And I don't take kindly to people walking on my land."
She stared up at him, her mouth open slightly in terror, her eyes flickering over his face. She hadn't seemed to register his words and he glowered at her.
"Are you listening to me, child?" he spat, taking another step closer. She cowered away in fear, her eyes flicking to his dagger. "My patience is thin today, and I'm not in the mood to deal kindly with my enemies."
At this point, most people started begging for mercy or gibbering in fear. But far from being terrified, the girl seemed to relax slightly, even having the nerve to give him a thin smile. He frowned and his eyes flicked over her slightly terrified but trusting expression. He started putting two and two together and came up with four.
"You're freaking deaf," he muttered to himself then rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air a little. "Well that's just brilliant, all my threats are useless." He started stalking off, not bothering to injure the girl. He had gotten all of his bloodlust out earlier.
Barely a minute later, he heard a branch snap behind him and he spun around to see the girl, standing a few steps away, frozen in place, her foot resting on a broken branch. He growled at her. "Go away," and then, because she was deaf, motioned for her to go. But instead, she took a step forward, a questioning look on her face. She made some motions with her hands that he didn't understand and he made a sound of annoyance, continuing to walk away.
She kept following him and after a few minutes, he spun around again. "Stop following me," he yelled at her. "Just go die in a hole somewhere!"
While the girl may not have been able to hear the words, she understood the intention. Her eyes narrowed, she drew herself up and marched right up to him, coming too close for comfort. He didn't dare step away - to do so would be to show weakness - and found himself staring into her very pretty green eyes. They were clear and had amber flecks inside them with a deep green ring around the outside. Her skin was pale but with a dusting of light brown freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her golden hair had started to fall out of her ponytail and it framed her well-defined face. He caught himself thinking that she was really quite beautiful and growled at her.
She had made her own judgement of him and before he could react, she slipped the dagger from his belt and took several steps back. He was silent for a moment, mouth hanging open slightly - no one had ever disarmed him before - and then growled again, marching up to her.
"How dare you-" He stopped himself from speaking and tilted his head slightly as she used the tip of the dagger to carve something into the bark of a nearby tree. The letters were jagged and rough but he could read them. When she had finished, she tapped the word and then her chest, indicating that the name was for her.
His eyes flicked between her and her name before he strode up to her, snatching the dagger from her hand and carving his own name into the bark. When he finished carving the 'e' of 'Herobrine', he threw the dagger into the wood of the tree where it lodged, the blade half swallowed by the bark. He walked away again, now alone as the girl remained at the tree.
But this solitude was to last for only a few minutes as he heard the footsteps of the girl as she ran after him. He gave a long sigh and rounded on her. "What do you want?" he yelled at her. Her actions were concerning him more than a little, especially since she couldn't express herself in a way that he could understand. No one had followed him like an obedient puppy before and it unnerved him in a way that he didn't like. She came to a stop next to him and held out his dagger to him. She must have stopped to pull it from the tree.
He glanced up at her face. Her green eyes were staring at him again, trusting. It was something that he hadn't seen directed to him for a long time. He hesitated, then took the dagger, sheathing it. He started to walk away but when she followed him, he stopped for the 50th time, glaring at her. When she stared evenly back at him, he sighed.
"Fine," he said, finally giving in. "You can follow me."
He opened the door that led to the small kitchen, stifling a yawn as he did so. She was in the kitchen, already making breakfast (he was always late to wake up) and she glanced up as she saw him from her position. She moved her hands in precise ways, the gestures now familiar to him.
'Good morning,' she said in two gestures, then signing his name in a third. It wasn't a word in the language that she had taught him over the years, but she had created it just for him. He smiled and his hands moved in similar ways, saying the same words with two different ones added on, causing her to grin shyly. He sat at the other side of the bench while she continued to make breakfast for the two of them. Originally, he had protested to her cooking but had then relented. Cooking was one of the things that she found interest in and he didn't feel right to take it from her.
As she dished up the bacon and eggs for the two of them, he asked her a question with his hands. 'How long have we been together?'
She had to put down the pan to answer, which was a disadvantage with this language. 'Ten years?' she suggested. 'I've lost count.'
He smiled. The years had passed quickly but close to 100 years later, she still looked as young and beautiful as she had the first time he had met her, in that forest so long ago. That morning of rage in the village had been the last of his large-scale attacks, although he hadn't known it at the time. She handed him his plate of breakfast and then came and sat beside him, her chair close to his. He rested his head on her shoulder.
"I love you," he said quietly to her. She didn't respond of course, and he knew that she wouldn't. He barely spoke anymore, instead spending almost all of his time with her but he liked to say these things aloud as well, solidifying them in his own mind. He lifted his head and tapped her arm. She turned to him and he signed to her. 'I love you'. She blushed and nestled her head on his shoulder, her hands moving to form the same words.
Then she was taken from him.