Herobrine's Revenge (The Wielder Chronicles Book Two)

Chapter 35 Part II: The Girl With A Choice.

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-"