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This is the epilogue for the first book of Grace’s stories. The.. fantastical tale shown here seems unbelievable, but based on what information we have uncovered at archaeological sites, it is true enough.
I crawled my way out of a vat of purple, swirling material.
Gracelyn Gwen had lived.
Though my little friend was not so lucky.
I looked at my hands.
They were different.
I usually bit my fingernails, yet these were completely fine and smooth.
My hair was too short.
That scar that the barbarian had given me was smoother over.
Something was very wrong.
“.uoy depleh I”
An ender man lurked behind me.
I reached for my sword, only, I didn’t have one.
The dark thing place a…
A pumpkin
He placed a pumpkin on my head.
I could barely see through its face, but I could hear things.
“You have been saved.” It explained.
“I… what…?”
“The pumpkin is a conduit, through which you can hear me.
I am Sqi-eks, of the Great Ender City. Me and my people have decided to use our magic to resurrect you, to respawn you from that anchor.”
“I am eternally in your debt,” I said, my voice muffled by the pumpkin.
“You have repaid me enough already,” said Sqi-eks, “now, take these.”
It handed me some purple fruits.
“Chorus, food from my home. Eat this, it will keep you alive.
Now, remove the pumpkin. Wearing it is not healthy. Stay in the blue forest, and remember, do not look at me nor any others of us. That is dangerous.”
I spent the next few weeks (I assume weeks, but there was no way to know in the Nether) wandering the blue trees, made of twisted trees and mushrooms.
Once I found a hog, and slaughtered it.
It was nice to have meat again, even if it was raw, after nothing but chorus.
Speaking of chorus, the food kept me alive, true.
Sometimes, though, after I ate it, I’d find myself in a different place than I was before, with no memory of how I got there.
I became less attentive, and boredom began to set it.
I hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks.
So she came back.
“We need to go,” I said.
“This place is safe.” Grace said.
“Not really. There was a portal, and if we find flint and steel… we can relight it. Get out, maybe find Firsy Docking or Walltown again.”
Grace put some chorus into our mouth.
“This stuff is good,” she said.
“I disagree. I… I don’t think it’s healthy.”
“Agree to disagree. Besides, scribe, do you really want to die?”
“This…” I gestured at our body, “this is just as unnuatural as those zombies and skeletons. We’re a monster, like it or not.”
“Shut up.” Grace said, and I did.
I crawled my way out of a vat of purple, swirling material.
Gracelyn Gwen had lived.
Though my little friend was not so lucky.
I looked at my hands.
They were different.
I usually bit my fingernails, yet these were completely fine and smooth.
My hair was too short.
That scar that the barbarian had given me was smoother over.
Something was very wrong.
“.uoy depleh I”
An ender man lurked behind me.
I reached for my sword, only, I didn’t have one.
The dark thing place a…
A pumpkin
He placed a pumpkin on my head.
I could barely see through its face, but I could hear things.
“You have been saved.” It explained.
“I… what…?”
“The pumpkin is a conduit, through which you can hear me.
I am Sqi-eks, of the Great Ender City. Me and my people have decided to use our magic to resurrect you, to respawn you from that anchor.”
“I am eternally in your debt,” I said, my voice muffled by the pumpkin.
“You have repaid me enough already,” said Sqi-eks, “now, take these.”
It handed me some purple fruits.
“Chorus, food from my home. Eat this, it will keep you alive.
Now, remove the pumpkin. Wearing it is not healthy. Stay in the blue forest, and remember, do not look at me nor any others of us. That is dangerous.”
I spent the next few weeks (I assume weeks, but there was no way to know in the Nether) wandering the blue trees, made of twisted trees and mushrooms.
Once I found a hog, and slaughtered it.
It was nice to have meat again, even if it was raw, after nothing but chorus.
Speaking of chorus, the food kept me alive, true.
Sometimes, though, after I ate it, I’d find myself in a different place than I was before, with no memory of how I got there.
I became less attentive, and boredom began to set it.
I hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks.
So she came back.
“We need to go,” I said.
“This place is safe.” Grace said.
“Not really. There was a portal, and if we find flint and steel… we can relight it. Get out, maybe find Firsy Docking or Walltown again.”
Grace put some chorus into our mouth.
“This stuff is good,” she said.
“I disagree. I… I don’t think it’s healthy.”
“Agree to disagree. Besides, scribe, do you really want to die?”
“This…” I gestured at our body, “this is just as unnuatural as those zombies and skeletons. We’re a monster, like it or not.”
“Shut up.” Grace said, and I did.
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