Magic Meets Might

First Day of Spring

"Name."

"Cassandra."

"Family?"

"Notch, Steve, Hero-"

"Date of birth."

"I can't even remember...Long ago."

"And today is-"

"I belive it's March 21'st."

Funny that all this should happen on the first day of spring.

"Thank you," accompanied by a rustle of papers and, "If you would, please speak clearly into the microphone. Be aware that anything you say can and will be held against you and will be forever on your record."

March 21st. 2:14 am.

"How the mighty have fallen," in the darkness, the Nether god's armor shone a deep purple with veins of clear crystals running through it. He laughed, "Weren't there more of you? Did they all run away?"

Mitch stole a glance at me and stepped forward. He didn't bring up his sword and instead, rested the tip on the ground. "Your memory is going, Lord Herobrine! If you may recall, it was your hand that we felt bringing our friends down!"The PVP master smiled and brought up his sword, "But I have no problem with evening the odds." Maybe it was some amazing magic, maybe it was simply the Bajancanadian-ness of the warrior. His words brought unease to the Nether troops and from my vantage point, the front line visibly wavered.

"Or perhaps, Canadian, you are forgetting as well the damages to my own forces suffered by you!"

A flash of light signaled the approaching of a man clad in pure gold armor. Sky stood behind Mitch, eyes daring Herobrine to make a move against the Overworld army. "You summon your minions and your forces! They have no life of their own, nothing to set them apart from the next."

Sky took a breath, eyes glittering with tears, and continued, "I have watched you tear families apart! Your dead-souled beasts have taken the lives of fully alive men- good men!"

"I'd say that's doing you a favor. Think of it this way, King Sky," Herobrine's voice dripped with mockery, "I've given you less useless people to care for and feed with your valuable and dwindling farms. Would you rather their death be prolonged by starvation?"

"He'd rather you turn around and go back to that hell you call home!"

A new voice stepped up to bat. Sky whirled around to face a grinning dark haired boy in a white tee and green headphones over his unruly hair.

Laughter and smiles rose from the Overworld forces. A messenger ran across the field to Herobrine and passed him a scroll. The Nether god rolled his eyes ordered a white flag to be raised so they could have their time together. I only caught one sentence as the wither skeleton pulled the ropes up.

"If anyone moves forward, I don't care which army they're from. Shoot them. No one starts fighting until I say so."

Some nods followed by an unintelligent groan signals their comprehension. I remain in the "dream catcher," useless in the battle to come. In the lull of tension, Herobrine floats up to me with a smile made grotesque in the dim starlight and stark white of his eyes.

"Cassandra, aren't you a pretty little dream catcher, hanging up there in your pretty little bows?" He places a cold hand under my chin and examines my face. I feel like I'm just his science experiment- a little pastime for when he's bored.

"Is my sister going to speak? Would she congratulate me on my triumph? No? But dear sister, I've come so far!"

"The battle has yet to begin. You are far from victory!" I raised my gaze above him to the clouds. A ghost of a face I knew flickered behind my eyelids and for once, through all the pain, I felt joy. Watch over me, sorcerer, and watch over your friends.