Chapter 6 || Eyes of Fire

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- Alex's POV -

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Before, I had faced the issue with a conservative, calm worry; but now, I am sick of her.

"I want you to murder the McKinnon girl."

At first, I couldn't tell if she was serious or not. Me, a dead boy held together by fragile energy, to be sent on an assasin's mission? I almost laughed in her face. Apparently, though, she was being completely and utterly serious. So instead I gave her a confusedly bewildered stare.

"What?" Was my admittedly pathetic reply. Some mysterious spiritual essence I was.

Her harsh purple gaze glared back at me. "Kill Emerald McKinnon's daughter."

I pointed to myself. "Me? Lil - General, I am a decades deceased ghost animated by temporary power. I don't do anything except lay down advice."

She raised a patronising eyebrow. "I brought you back - you obey me, no matter what my command happens to entail. You will finish off the McKinnon family line."

So here I was now, outside a hospital, floating beside a window that, as I'd been told, was where the girl was staying, probably drugged on some kind of mental pain relief, sleeping in the only place she could go to. The Fire Wielder, the General had said, was preparing to take her in but had wanted her treated for both psychological and physical injury beforehand. And as I stared into the window, my all black figure hidden against the night backdrop behind me, I found myself feeling pity.

Pity wasn't new to me; I'd watched over hundreds of doomed souls, guided their way into an unpleasant state of death, listened to their anguished cries. However, this pity was different - this girl was innocent.

She was asleep in an all-too white room, iron lacing the walls and roof, painful to look at for too long. Her hair was still dirty with grime and, from what I could see, blood, presumably from her parents' bodies. Her face was, although unconscious, distorted with negative emotion; perhaps she was dreaming. No matter how I looked at it, this girl - Iris - had done nothing to deserve death.

As one may ask - if I were truly some sort of gross death god ghost thing, why would I let an easy picking like her slip away? And as I would reply: Gross death god ghost things have morals too. It wasn't within what I felt okay to do; it wasn't in the name of cruel justice. It would have been pointless and frankly, unhappily done on my part had I have slain her as she lay quietly, smothered by a fake reality inside her mind. And I don't play pointless.

Besides, she reminded me too much of Lillian.

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- some third person nasty business -

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Nya sat beside the bed, head between her hands like she'd done countless times before. She had barely a minute to regain her composture; then her son would enter the room, and she could not let him see her cry.

Zach had told her over and over throughout the years that crying was okay, healthy even; now that idea lingered, tempting her, as images of her best friend's body flashed across her scarred mind, refusing to allow clear space to think and feel. The two girls grew close after they'd left university; Emerald had married, Nya had married, and they raised their children together; watched their children become best friends with each other with mutual feelings of delight. But now that was all crashing down.

Emerald no longer stood beside her to crack a stupid joke to make her cheer up; Jonathan wasn't there to ramble on about some stupid topic no one really cared about but enjoyed listening to.

Clare wasn't there to smile; Tali wasn't there to laugh. Mackenzie wasn't there to tell her she'd be alright. No one was there.

Suddenly, the sound of a door creaking open snatched her attention away from her dreary thoughts, placing it back onto her son, who was standing in the doorway, no longer holding the expression of an innocent mind.

"Mum," he murmured, eyes staring at Nya with bewildered realisationing. "Mum, they're gone."

She shut her eyes. "Yeah, Kai. They are."

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A week passed. Ice had recovered from her physical pain, but was still well away from being healed. She had moved in to the Dares' house, keeping quiet to herself within Tali's bedroom, rarely moving from her spot on the bed. The sun shone, days flowed by like a quiet mountain stream, and she scarecly noticed the difference between times.

But this girl's thoughts were not quiet, oh no; they were alight with a burning rage, conjuring up wicked, wicked ideas that manifested into bloated, cryptic shapes of what her reality could look like if she could find her parents' murderer. The girl with the bond to endermen.

She spent hours piecing together her mind, collecting shattered bits of who she once was as she forced them to create an image in her head that fit what her heart begged to have - a plan. One of vengence.

She knew little about the woman from that night - she had only heard her voice, heard the enderman's whispers as it replied to her words. But perhaps all she needed was that voice. Sounds could open up the world in ways that warped sight never could. Sound was clear.

And so she never forgot the voice, kept it tight inside her memory, not letting it slip away into someplace unknown to her; I thought I could count on you; Besides, she's right below us; The Ender Dragon's Child; Your General.

The Ender Dragon's Child - that's where she would begin her task. With that title.

Titles hold many secrets, indeed.

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- Kai's POV (it's good to be back in first person, ay)

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"Iris?" I questioned, knocking on the door softly. "You gonna come to school today?"

As always, the answer I got was a silence. I hadn't seen her in days. Mum kept telling me that she needed more time - lots more time. She won't ever really be fine, she told me a few nights ago while we sat on the table outside, her face weary. She'll recover enough to function, but never enough to recover.

I left my hand on the door, wistfully, before dragging myself away, bag swung onto my shoulders. A prevailing dark and gloomy atmosphere had settled upon all aspects of the world; home, school, our group of friends who sit under the Oak Tree. Grief is spread through the silences that leak through the life we've all been living recently. It's been dreary.

When I arrived at school - yet another day without Rainbow on my side - a nice, positive greeting from Xavier finally got a small smile back on my face.

"Hey, Dare, you slow-ass! Hurry up, class starts in two!" he shouted from under the cover beside the locker bays, Flora, Eve and Scott huddled around in a group with him, all waving or yelling things similar. When I reached them, Eve slapped me on the back and then hooked an arm around my shoulders.

"Good to see you, loser," she teased, pushing a book into my face. "Forget something yesterday?"

I squinted to read the headline: How To Ask Your Crush Out (Without Embarrassing Yourself Completely), a pink, glittery cover with bubble writing littered across it clearly designed for particularly sad elementry school girls. A blush make my cheeks burn.

I shoved her away gently, appauled at her laugh. "Man, what the hell?" I questioned, hiding my face in my hands, then peaking through my fingers to glare at her. "That's cruel."

Xavier laughed loudly, bending down on his knees. "No, man, what the hell to you!"

"I swear to Notch, it's not mine."

"You've been caught with the evidence, Dare. There is no protecting yourself now."

"It's. Not. Mine." It's Tali's, damn it, the pranking snitch. Why was it with Eve?

I turned to her to find out. "How did you find that?" I asked, still very red in the face, but now trying to pull my act together.

"Your locker," she chirped, waving it around a little, sequins glittering and ugh.

I glared at her harder, exaggerating a plea. "Why were you even in my locker, dude!?"

"Oh, you know," she said, leaning against the wall, "routine check."

I groaned, knowing that no matter I tried to fight it, I'd be pinned with the ownership anyways. "Fine, fine, whatever," I dismissed, wandering over to my locker to throw my bag away into.

Flora followed me, and when I looked at her, her eyes were shining with distinct worry. "How's Ice?" she asked, compassion clear in her tone, empathy in her gaze.

"Not any better," I answered honestly, sighing a little. "I don't know when she'll start improving."

Her shoulders drooped with disappointment. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I know how much she meant to you - how much she meant to everyone. She didn't deserve this."

"I know."

"Do you know what happened yet?"

I swallowed a little, turning around to lean the back of my head against the top of my locker, staring upwards. "Endermen attack. At least six, they say. They listed it as random, but have you ever heard of six endermen attacking together? I don't understand."

She rested beside me. "You will. They'll clear it up."

I shut my eyes, blocking out the loud sounds of the school yard. "Yeah. Hopefully."

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Fire. Flames; twisting, flaring, sizzling whisps of orange and yellow and red, smoke as black as the night sky escaping its grasp, smothering the horizen and all those who lay below it in soffocating, murky mist; it burns across the world, reaping those whom it passes over, stopping at nothing, burning, flickering, uncontrollable --

Woah, what - wait, what?

I snapped back into awaking, siezing back my wandering mind, forcing it into the present. Xavier and Zoe were chatting together, Eve and Scott making fun of each other again, Flora hastily scribbling down words, or a picture, I wasn't sure. I wasn't quite fully into it.

Xavier glanced up at me, and suddenly his face dropped. "Mate, you okay?"

I shook my head a little, trying to wash out my stupid daydream. "Yeah, fine. Sorry 'bout that."

But he didn't look away. "No, man, something's up. Your eyes. You should, uh, probably check them out."

What? I raised my eyebrows at him, stomaching sinking anyways. Who was he kidding? Xav was never the master prankster. No, Tali won that title without competition.

However, Eve also gave me a bizzare stare - one of confusion, bewilderment, slight curiosity. "Go get a mirror now, Kai. Trust me," she stated, nodding her head a little.

I scoffed. "Alright, whatever, cool." I reluctantly got up, wandering off into the direction of the bathroom - bad idea. I don't think I'd gotten that many stares since that one time I woke up and walked through school after one of Tali's 'surprise' haircuts. When I finally got to the bathroom, I peered into the mirror as fast as I could, a bit fearful of what difference I'd see.

And there it was: a striking change; a fiery orange returning my gaze that was filled with intense alarm. What the hell - what the hell?

My eyes were burning, flickering with orange light - like fire.

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- from the buried memories of one oh so known -

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No, no, no - this isn't happening, I refuse to let this be happening.

My palace was crumbling to pieces; netherbrick shattering to the group, red and purple raining from above, the walls falling, the ceiling disintergrating, everything I had ever worked for turning to turmoil and chaos around me, bits of my soul piling up at my feet in the form of a ruined plan.

Amongst the mess, though, was something I could grip onto; Clare's being, slowly losing energy, her knees trembling, her hands shaking as they pressed into her temples, willing herself to hold on long enough to destroy my hellhold, to destroy me. Her hair was still as black as night, and in one, unwanted moment, I was reminded of the Overworld; and when I think of the Overworld, my sister, Alex, are the ones I remember.

So I pushed them away, and clutching onto any decency I had, lifted myself off the ground as high as I could;

But I couldn't speak.

I couldn't say a word, because my creation, the girl whom I had twisted, bend into a crooked and broken shell of a human, was standing against me, and looked satisfied with doing it, her eyes red with power that no one will ever appriciate again. A part of me understood; a small part. Another wondered why, in the name of all that makes remote sense in the world, would you die for a group of people that did nothing to earn the favour?

I did manage to say something, but it wasn't fearsome or god-like, words Herobrine would have spoken an hour ago; they were petty and dully curious. They were shameful, but yet, I had no shame to feel, not anymore.

"Clare, why do this? Why sacrifice your life to save those of the people who did nothing to save you?" Why, dear life, would you die alongside me?

She shut her eyes, and although they had been blood-red, their humanity, raw emotion, was what kept my mind grounded from wondering; when they disappeared, I felt even more helpless - helpless, what a new concept. Even though her pain must have been unbearable, she offered me words: "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."

Then they opened again, but it brought me no relief; this girl was going to die. She was going to die, and I would have nothing left.

A huge piece of roof fell away from its position, tumbling down and slamming beside me, cracking the floor and sending shockwaves, of both fear and movement, up my spine.

Selflessness. The virtue I had never owned.

Dignity; how mine never recovered after Lillian's death.

Correction of one's mistakes; something I'd never done, nor could have done. Nothing can repair what I did the night my sister was murdered. Nothing can fix my guilt, the pain that drove Alex to ending his own life. There is no such thing as redemption for me. There is no correction for my choices.

A face appeared behind Clare, slowly coming into form; a boy who's sad eyes made my heart pound, who's outstretched hand made me shiver and tremble. He began walking towards me.

"A-Alex? I-Is that you?" Stupid question; of course it's him. Only he would watch me through this.

Clare said something, but I didn't hear it; I only saw Alex, his gaze somber, hand still as it reached out as if he wanted mine in return. Oh Notch, I thought. He wants mine in return. He wants me to follow him.

"Alex - no, NO." Leaving here meant no coming back; it meant being stranded in a limbo of dispair, stuck between the states of life and death with no possible return to either. I didn't want that. No one sane would want that.

I tried to scramble away, but Alex followed, stepping through Clare's in the way body; she didn't notice. He was standing before me now, grimness etched into his features, but there was a dull, extremely dull light in his eyes - hope, I recognised. Hope for me, hope for him. Hope for redemption.

"NO! No, I won't follow you! I don't want to be like you!" A hollowed out haunted soul with no welcoming home and no purpose. Just an empty, cold figure.

Aren't I that already?

I sobbed - I actually sobbed. "Alex, please . . ."

A loud crack echoed around the half-destroyed hall. When I looked up, tearing my gaze away from Alex, I realised with a sharp horror that a huge piece of the palace roof had detatched itself from its build, slowly tipping forwards on its last connection with the wall.

I looked back down at Alex. From behind his almost transparent shield, I saw a flicker of the boy I once knew - hair the colour of empty galaxies and healthy tan skin, eyes that shone like they held the power of stars within them.

Not even stars can escape reality, it seems.

And apparently no kind of forged identity can save a damaged soul with a price to pay.

So I leaned forward, pain making me shudder, causing my arm to shake as I reached out towards my friends', fingers outstretched, palms clammy with dread and fear.

I thought I heard his voice, then, whisper softly: It will be alright.

But who am I to be sure.

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Eh, third person. Eh.

Also, apologies for the constant shifting between POV's and persons and stuff. My bad.

Additionally: LISTEN TO IMAGINE DRAGONS WHILE WRITING. PARTICUARLY THEIR ALBUM SMOKE + MIRRORS (slightly fuzzled lyrics so your brain doesn't get overly distracted by different words to the ones you're meant to be writing, but dramatic and mood-inspiring music)

Sorry for the slow update. Starting VCE this year, though (early), which means I have a lot more work and a lot more self-motivated study to get done. Again, SO SO SORRY.

So how are y'all? It's been a while, lmao. Hope your lives don't suck, because that would totally suck as well.

QOTC: What are your thoughts on love triangles?

(answer: nah, to be honest. kinda overrated and over-dramatised nowadays)

Anways, thanks for reading (votes would be absolutely rad, too!!), and I'll see y'all next update!!

- Jazz

 Bonus - I miss Clare :(((