Chapter Text
“Tussle up in your blankets, my dear, my love.
The Northern winds ‘a calling you down.
Hussle, hussle! Bundle your loaves!
Hussle, Hussle! Tuck in your chin!
The Northern winds ‘a calling;
The snow soon to come in!
No time for trolley games and fickle roots,
The Northern winds come ‘a howling!
Tuck the babes in tight, keep out that northern bite!
Northern winds ‘a calling, bitter and bland,
the northern winds ‘a calling!”
“What’s that tune?” Herobrine piped up from the back of the covered wagon.
Steve blinked. The days had passed dull and the nights soberly cold, each muddy road looking exactly like the last. The long road held his weary mind in a traveling trance. Trees passed copies of themselves along the forested stretch. His numbed mind grabbed at the slightest change to keep himself awake.
“Steve?” Herobrine’s head peeked from behind the lowered curtain.
Herobrine’s lithe form huddled beneath thick layers of furs and blankets. As he moved around behind the curtain, the pelts slung around his shoulders moved in rolls of furred flesh. His core ran hot, and forced his skin to endure an uncomfortable cold.
Steve sleepily blinked. “What?”
“What’s that tune? The one you’ve been humming?” The demon cocked his head, like a dog questioning a sound.
“Oh, it’s just some old folk song.” Steven waved dismissively, returning his gaze to the road. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hero lean over the back of the driver’s seat, head resting on his arms as he peered out.
“You might be seen.”
Herobrine scoffed. “By whom? The only other life out here is those weird monkey rodents, and the occasional skinny deer.”
“Are you talking about the yowlers?”
“My question stands: by who? I’m bored.”
“Hero…”
“Yeah yeah, I’m being hunted and we should be careful, blah, blah blah.” He sighed, long and dramatic. “What kind of name is ‘Yowler’ anyways? Who names an animal something like that?”
As if waiting for a stage call, the very creature in question scampered out in front of Ginger, baring its protruding canines with flattened ears. The mare jolted and stamped her hooves in kind with a whinny of discontent. The white-furred creature howled a bone-chilling shriek before it ran off into the brush.
Alex jolted awake, her elbow stabbing Steve in the ribs.
Herobrine’s head shot up at the sound, startled by the volume it was able to produce. As the cart rumbled past, the Yowler scurried away. “…It makes more sense now.”
“Great Ender’s tits, can I not just sleep for more than four hours?” Alex grumbled, turning to glare at the men.
“It wasn’t my fault.” The demon muttered, before the adventurer shoved his head back down.
“It might as well have been; you shouldn’t even be looking out! You’re—“
“Being hunted by a crazy magic man. Yes, I do recall.” Nonetheless, the demon disappeared behind the woolen curtain.
“You make it sound like it’s another Tuesday.” The woman said, mostly to herself.
“It basically is.” The immortal’s voice grumbled, muffled by layers of fabric.
Alex threw a curse his way before checking the sun’s lowered face. “You should look for a spot to camp soon. Braila should be another morning’s ride away and I can buy some good stuff and not live off of scraps.”
Steve hummed in agreement, diverting the wagon off the path, and farther into the cluster of trees. Thin branches snagged and snapped on the wagon's top, mewls of unseen creatures fading as they scampered from the group. Ginger huffed as Steve pulled back on the reins, shaking her mane clear of the melted snow.
The area was fairly hidden, the dense branches and barely alive foliage blocking them from prying eyes. Slabs of flat stones walled one side of the clearing, providing dry ground amongst the winter sludge. Patches of resilient grass poked up from cold earth, which Ginger gleefully helped herself to as soon as Steve removed her harness. Alex’s horse took a wide berth around the cart, prancing after the golden mare.
Alex stretched, her back popping in both relief and protest. “Gods, I cannot wait for a real bed!”
“You can always—“ Steve began, unlatching the wagon's door.
“No. If you are about to offer to sleep with the thing again, the answer is still no.”
“The thing has ears, and unfortunately, the miner is correct.” Herobrine’s lanky form emerged from the back of the cart, a thick woolen blanket hugged around his shoulders. “A frozen companion is more of a liability than a help.”
The woman gritted her teeth, glaring holes into the two men. “I’d rather be frozen than gutless.”
Herobrine’s face fell a little, before resuming its usual indifference. Steven opened his mouth to scold Alex, but Hero interrupted, handing the miner the blanket; “I’ll go see if there’s any game nearby.”
“Make sure to bring it back in one piece, demon.” Alex spat as the man walked by, ignoring the way his eyes remained fixed ahead.
Once the footsteps of the immortal faded away, Steven grabbed the woman’s arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
Alex tugged her arm away, frowning. “Nothing, besides the fact an abyssal horror is cozying up in your back pocket. Don’t remind me how lucky that thing is to still have all its toes intact.”
“I’m not doing this with you Alex.” Steve snapped. “You just love to poke the bear and run crying when it bites. So fuck off, or shut up.”
Alex’s face scrunched into a sneer. They both knew he was right. Alex turned on her heel quietly and left to gather tinder and stones for a fire. She felt Steve’s eyes on her, choosing to pointedly ignore it as she scuffed the dirt for a fire pit.
Birds shrieked in the distance, flying in panic above the trees. Alex squinted against the dusk, debating if shooting one was worth losing an arrow. From the corner of her eye, she saw Steve limp around the wagon's side, favoring his left leg as he set brake slabs behind the wheels.
“Did your pet demon bust your leg?”
The man’s head shot up at her voice “Huh?”
“Did the little shit hurt you? You’ve got a limp that wasn’t there last night.” Alex clarified, tone indifferent. She struck the flint, the sparks catching the twigs below.
Steven’s voice didn’t answer, his footsteps approaching closer until the miners boots were in sight. “…that flint needs to be replaced.”
“Just like your leg? Or are we going to brush over that, too?”
The man opened his mouth to refute when heavy footsteps entered the clearing. Alex looked up from the fire, making brief eye contact with the terrible thorn in her side: Herobrine.
“That was quick.” Steve spoke aloud.
The god shuffled his way from out of the brush, a heavy load dragged behind. Glistening blood splattered across his jaw and dripped down his entire shirt, soaking it a dark maroon. The mass Herobrine drug behind him revealed itself, a freshly killed doe. A deep bite wound in the deer’s neck matched the pattern of Herobrine’s own teeth.
He dumped the doe beside the fire, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. “Here.”
Alex glanced at the animal. “It’s skinny.”
The deer was actually a fair weight for the winter, but she couldn’t give praise to a fallen god, much less The Blight of the Aether.
Steven tried to intervene, but the demon's tongue was quicker. “It is winter. Food is scarce. I can not unkill it for you.” Herobrine’s hands flexed and relaxed, like he was trying to keep them from getting around her throat.
Alex gave him a bored stare, huffing. “Sure, that’s an excuse if I ever heard one.”
“Alex—” Steve began, before Hero interrupted.
“It is not an excuse! I hunted for something other than gamey rabbits and boney birds— but you still can not be satisfied!”
Before her retort could leave her mouth, the demon stormed past her to the wagon's door, shoulders tucked and arms crossed. The latch slammed into place, muffled clattering echoing through the door.
“… drama queen of the year.” Alex muttered, returning to poke the fire.
Steve rolled his eyes, bending down to begin skinning the animal. “Yeah, because you keep antagonizing him.”
“Good, maybe he will get the hint and scram.”
Steve slammed his knife into the ground, the hilt wobbling at the sudden treatment. Steve sucked in a breath as he hissed through his teeth.
Alex jolted at the harsh movement, eyes snapping up to the man. “Steve-?”
“I’m sick and tired of being the peacemaker and cleaning up after you and having to deal with your nasty attitude!”
Alex scoffed. “Peacemaker? Is that what you call sleeping with one eye open so I don’t get my throat sliced open like that deer? You seem to forget the literal demon we are traveling with— forgive me if I’m not rubbing elbows with a fucking killer!”
“Rubbing elbows? Alex, you have done nothing but poke and jab him this entire time! We have only been on the road for little over a month, and you find every opportunity to pull his fucking tail like it will get you something!”
The miner stood from the doe’s carcass, leaving his knife in the ground. His hands shook like they did when he was mad enough to start throwing punches. Instead, the man shoved his fists in his coat, storming away from the fire and the redhead.
“I just don’t see why you want to help a known killer, and then get mad at me for dragging my feet about it! Where do your morals even lie, Steven Stone?!” Alex snapped back.
“Then why the fuck are you still here?” Steve yelled over his shoulder. “If you’re going to keep instigating and making everything worse, it’s best that we part ways and you head home.”
“Head home, and leave you with that deranged-”
“ALEX. ENOUGH.” A deafening silence echoed after his voice. The forest muted in trepidation of the man’s growing temper.
Steve lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. “I’m done having this argument with you every day. Unless you’re ready to grow up and be a fucking adult and my friend, I want you gone by next morning.”
Alex opened her mouth to speak.
“Don’t you fucking start, you’ve make my life hell these past few weeks, and if you want me to even stay as your friend, stop being a bratty, insolent child.” Steven turned on his heel and stormed off to the wagon.
The chatter of crickets drifted through the rolling fog as twilight filtered through the trees. Moonlight streamed down in long straight ribbons of translucent fabric and settled upon the undergrowth of the forest.
Alex’s head fell to her hands as she sighed and shuddered. How desperately she tried to ram it into Steve’s skull what exactly he was messing with. Every attempt to wisen the guy up left her torn and defeated. Maybe she should just cut ties and let Steve figure it out the hard way when he’s left bleeding on the floor with his guts spewed around him and that feral beast eating him alive.
Huffing, Alex reached for Steve’s knife, continuing the process of skinning the doe. Regardless of how fatty it was, she shouldn’t let any rations go to waste… even if it was a demon's catch.
Alex slowly processed the deer, cutting away the skin and minding the small slivers of fat hung off the muscles and meat. Blood seeped and spilled from her cuts, pooling beneath in an ever deepening puddle.
“Ugh.” Alex groaned. If only she could hang up the doe and let it drain out properly and not deal with the tinny stench of fresh blood.
Steve returned briefly from the cart and tossed a flint-n-steel and a cooking pot by Alex and stormed back to disappear under the canvas frame.
Alex made her meal with a strong fire and slivers of fat thrown in and sizzling. Herobrine had returned from his foraging and left small bulbs of wild carrots by the fire and a single onion he somehow found?
It was a meager meal and not the most appetizing. It was a shame to waste most of the deer since they couldn’t just store the raw meat and uncured skin in their wagon lest it rot and attract unsavory guests.
But, despite her displeasure and anger forcing its way through how she cut the pieces of meat and stirred the pot over the fire, it was a meal nonetheless.
The sun dipped below the canopy of the forest, leaving a veil of stars in its wake. The oranges and reds of dusk bled away to twilight and the face of the crescent moon appeared over the horizon. The cloudy sky above was obscured by waving boughs of tall trees, and the denizens of night emerged in their fullness.
Fireflies danced across the fog of twilight, mingling and twinkling with their soft light. Far in the brush, the sound of monsters wandered near, but shied away when they drew too close. An owl crooned in the boughs over Alex’s head. Peace filled with trepidation as beasts hunted with the sun asleep.
The deer's meat was cooked and stored, the gamey remains disposed of beyond camp. Steve hadn’t emerged from the wagon yet, a bristling aura radiating from within. The wind hissed lightly between branches, cold and biting.
Alex’s focus fell into a trance as the campfire danced before her. The waves of heat washed over her cheeks with bliss against the frigid night air. A moment to breathe in the smoke and sigh into the silence.
The tender quiet was broken as the door to the wagon creaked open, followed by the soft pattering of bare feet. Nervous footsteps, stumbling away from the clearing in a hurry; suspicious. Alex reached for her sword, using the blade to help her up.
The steps were too light and flighty for Steve, which didn’t leave much of a guessing game on who it would be. A flash of glowing eyes confirmed her suspicions, and carefully, Alex followed the sound of harsh breathing and breaking twigs, angling herself downwind. The demon's steps tripped, followed by an ‘oof’ and then gagging. Alex hesitated as the wet splash of vomit hit the ground. From her spot among the brush, she could see the shaking shoulders of Herobrine, the man’s body tightening as he gagged again.
She didn’t understand how the demon could throw up so much, especially considering the lack of food he would eat. She squinted as the watery bile turned pink, before red, each gasp interrupted by another heave of bloody bile.
Steven’s words echoed in her mind, the man’s anger leaving her a bitter kind of guilt. She sighed to herself, approaching loudly from behind. “That doesn’t look good.”
Herobrine wiped his mouth, glancing at the woman as she stepped up to his side. “I am not in the mood to be ridiculed.”
“Didn’t plan on it.”
A wet cough rattled his chest, before he spat to the side. “No, of course not.”
Tense silence brewed between them, only ever cut by another cough from the demon. Alex frowned, chewing on her lip as she knelt next to him. “Do you get sick? Is that what this is?”
“Are you asking out of concern or strategic thinking?”
“Both.”
Herobrine huffed what she assumed was a laugh. “I always liked how you were honest. Never had to guess with you.”
Alex waited for an answer, the muddy ground turning the knees of her pants cold and wet. Just when she thought she wouldn’t get one, Hero sighed, shaking his head.
“Not sick, not like a mortal. Cold makes me weaker… harder to fight. The coughs? That is simply the Wardens doing, ripples of the strings magic.”
“Ripples?” The woman prodded, never having had a conversation this long with the demon without an insult or threat made.
“Yes, like when you throw a stone in the pond. It is stronger the closer the warden is to me, but distance and time interfere.”
Alex hummed, scrunching her brow. “What do they feel like?”
“A thorn in my lungs.”
“Quick answer.”
“Easy question.”
“I suppose so…” the red head nodded, standing from her crouched spot. “Do you plan to be out here all night?”
“Perhaps. I do not see why it matters much.”
“Steve will have my head if I don’t at least attempt to be civil with you. I feel like that matters.”
“This is your civil?” Herobrine tossed his head back as he barked out a laugh. “I see, well, then let me return your hospitality, and help you avoid any further trouble with Steven.”
He stood on shaky legs, followed by Alex’s side. The pair walked in silence, splitting off once the campfire was in sight. Hero hobbled to the wagon, stopping at the door. “Alex?”
The woman’s head shot up from her crouched spot on her bedroll. “What?”
“Thank you. For not taking any of my toes.” She could hear the grin in his voice as he climbed into the cart, the gate latching shut behind him.
Alex blinked in the silence, before chuckling. She tucked herself back in; an early morning trip to Braila still needing to be done. She gazed back at the fire, feeling a bit more at peace. “Sure, you’re welcome.”
Morning came much too quickly for Alex’s liking, the sun seeking her eyes out like an arrow to a target. Groaning, the woman reluctantly stretched, unwilling to start the day.
“You snore very loud.”
Alex nearly skewered Herobrine with how fast she whipped her blade out. The demon seemed surprised at the speed, jumping back as the sword cut through air. “Ender's cunt! Have you no sense of self preservation?! I could’ve stabbed you!”
“I am glad you didn’t.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not! Gods! You need to learn some basic boundaries— like not sneaking up on someone who is sleeping and armed!”
At that, Hero pouted, the furs he stole from the wagon bulking around him like shoulder pads. “I wasn’t sneaking, I was waiting for you to wake up.”
Alex sighed, rubbing her face as she set about finding her travel pants and boots. “Why, is Steven still asleep?”
“Yes. He has smacked me many times for waking him.” Herobrine replied, following a few steps after as Alex checked her satchel, rummaging through the bag as she walked towards the horses tack.
“Maybe I should’ve done the same…”
“Can I go with you?”
The woman stopped, saddle resting on her hip. “What?”
“Can I go with you? Into the city?”
Alex took a deep breath, turning to face the Scourge of the Overworld, who looked at her like a child asking for candy. “Can you go with me into the city?” She repeated, still in disbelief.
“Yes. Can I go with you?” The demon's usually glowing eyes had dimmed as he pleaded, similar to a dog asking for table scraps.
“Why would you think that’s a good idea?” The adventurer scoffed, returning to her task of tacking Mors. The gelding balked, nostrils blowing anxiously as Herobrine trailed a few paces behind. Thankfully, he stopped far enough that Mors didn’t bolt, the horse watching the predator with whale eyes.
“I can help.” The other offered, but didn’t explain past the statement.
“Help? Sure, by staying here.” Alex slid the bit between Mors’s teeth, fiddling with the straps.
“No, I mean, in the city.”
She leaned her forehead on the gelding's black coat, counting to ten before answering. “You are a wanted entity, easily recognizable by even the dumbest people. If I am seen with you, I will be executed without question. You can help by staying here.”
“But I can help.” Herobrine insisted, and if it were not the literal Blight of the Aether, she might have felt endeared by his words.
“No you can’t, dude. You’ll get me killed.” Alex grabbed the low horn of the saddle, pulling herself up. Mors pawed the ground, ears flicking in worry as they remained within sight of the demon.
“But I can help!” Hero again, repeated without explanation.
“How? You can’t even make it past the gates without the guards noticing you!” She snapped, gathering the horse's reins.
At the mention of the gates, Herobrine seemed to deflate, before his ears perked back up. “I can make you money to buy things!”
Alex blinked at him. “I’m sorry, you said you could ‘make me money’? Does the money catch fire or curse whoever takes it?”
Instead of answering, Herobrine closed his hands over each other, frowning as he mumbled under his breath. The plink of coins sounded from inside his palms, the demon smiling as he presented the shiny gold coins to Alex’s painfully empty purse.
“Will they explode?” She asked, reluctantly reaching for the money.
“They are normal coins.” Hero said, plopping the currency in her hand, before frowning in afterthought. “Do you wish for them to explode?”
“No! Gods, no I do not!” Alex snatched the gold away before the demon could alter it more. “How the fuck did you even do that? You can just make things?”
“Some items. I haven’t used my powers in a long time, so I am not as proficient as I once was. I honestly did not expect the coins to appear.” The man stepped farther back, pulling the fur blanket closer to himself. “I only ask that you purchase some winter blankets in exchange for my service.”
The woman rolled her eyes, clucking Mors into a walk. “Sure. I’ll see what I can find.”
“Oh, and strawberry jam! Steve was complaining about not having any yesterday!”
“Yeah yeah, I’ll look for it.” She called over her shoulder, pushing her horse into a gallop as she left the hidden clearing.
Leaving Mors untethered outside the city walls, Alex greeted the guards shortly, the coins in her pouch feeling like creeper eggs. The market wasn’t too far from the main gates, vendors calling out prices and exchanging words with customers in the early morning frost.
Spotting a stall with canned berries and goods, Alex made a straight line for it, wanting to rid herself of the demon's coins as fast as she could.
“Good morning! Haven’t seen you before, are you new to Braila?” The vendor greets her, the woman’s eyes bright and enthusiastic despite the time of day.
“Not new, just passing through.” Alex says, eyes roaming the shelves.
The woman’s tune turned somber, warning. “Might want to pass through faster. Got some new knights in town, a feverish bunch. They’ve been given authority by the Elder, something about hunting… Him.”
“Him?” Alex’s attention was stolen, the vendor's volume dropping to a whisper.
“Aye. The Herobrine. Rumors about Him stalking the northern cities have been circulating, and it’s brought the Sorem Dragon Knight’s investigating our city. People passing through have been targeted by ‘em.”
The woman leaned closer, pushing a tray full of jams aside. “Don’t tell anyone you're passing through, lass. Tell ‘em you’ve moved in to help with family, or something— but don’t mention you’re traveling. The cocksuckers are blood drunk with power already… just stay clear of them.”
Alex readjusted her sack full of canned goods and thick clothes, trudging past the mouth of Braila’s gates. The guards bid her warm farewells, though she doubted her faring being anything but well or warm.
The frozen dew from the morning had already melted, turning the dirt road and the surrounding ground into an unpleasant cold, muddy mush. The wagon had already gotten stuck twice in the muck, and Alex wasn’t looking to make it a third. The rear wheels weren’t made for early snow, much less the constant traversing on muddy grounds. She was surprised that they had made it this far without needing a new wheel.
The entering road diverted in two, a familiar horse in full tack standing off to the right. Upon the sound of her boots, the gelding raised his head, nickering his welcome.
“Hey Mors, you’ve been good, yeah?” Alex greeted, adjusting her load to give her horse’s neck a pat. “You wouldn’t mind holding some of this, would you?”
Whether or not Mors understood, the gelding remained still as the woman fixed her freshly purchased goods atop his saddle, stashing the more fragile objects into empty saddle bags. Collecting the dropped reins, Alex tugged the reluctant horse in the direction of the hidden cart, silently hoping the demon had decided to run off for the day. It would make her apology to Steve a bit easier without the bastard in earshot.
Luck did not favor her, as she soon found. Ginger strayed not far from the wagon, munching on the few spurts of green grass, while Herobrine cat napped atop her back. She spared the entering party a flick of her ear and a lazy swish of her tail, content to ignore them. Mors nickered softly, but the mare only turned her rear towards him, leaving the gelding unanswered.
“You have better luck with a rabid donkey than that hag, Mors.” Alex muttered, removing both the newly bought goods and his tack. “You don’t even have balls.”
All too eager, Mors dropped the bit, before prancing over to the plow horse, content to ignore the predator in favor of the mare. Ginger nipped meanly at him, before returning to her patch of grass.
“She gets mean in the cold.” Steve’s voice came, shortly followed by the man himself. He stopped beside Alex, arms folded.
“Even meaner than she already is?”
Steve changed the subject as he gathered the sack and bridle. “Are you ready to be civil today or are you packing up to head back home?”
Alex grunted. “This again, really? Why is it-”
Steve cut her off sharply. “Shut it. Go pack your things and leave. I’ll see you when all of this is over.”
“Steve, no, ugh... that’s not what I meant.”
“Then say what you mean.”
Alex cringed at the condescending tone.
“I’ll be civil.”
“And?”
Alex grit her teeth, feeling like a child receiving a scolding. “I’ll stop antagonizing the beast.”
Steve sighed with relief and hauled the cargo back to the wagon. “Thank you, Alex.”
As Alex and Steve set up the tack and harnesses to get back on the road, Alex sniffed the fresh air and looked around. Nothing disturbed the brush and foliage around their little campsite. The horses grazed and rolled in the dirt nearby as birds fluttered overhead, singing their sweet songs. Herobrine was missing from Ginger’s back.
Oddly peaceful in how timid and delicate the air was.
“Where did the bloodthirsty prick go?”
“Alex…”
“Ah, right, my bad. Got to be civil about it. Where did that vermin run off to? Did he happen to leave a note? Let us know if he’ll be home in time for supper?”
“Alex–”
“I know he prefers to stay out late, but it would be so nice to have the family together for dinner! Do you think he’ll bring home someone? You know how PapPap wanted grandkids–”
“Alex, do me a favor and shut up.” Steve’s voice had an edge to it, bordering an angry kind of tiredness.
The woman huffed, but sat the saddle on her hip as she unlocked the gate to the wagon. The door fell open with a loud thud, but no white-eyed menace peeked up from under blankets, or from behind crates. She frowned, glancing at the miner. “In all seriousness, where did he go? He knows we are heading out, right?”
Steve didn’t answer, frowning to himself as he pushed the newly acquired goods towards the back.
“Steven?”
“I’m not sure. He usually wanders around when you’re not here, but not far off.”
Alex sighed, handing the miner the last bag. “Any idea which direction he meandered off in?”
“Past where the horses were probably. I’ll finish harnessing Gin, you go get him.” The man waved dismissively in the direction of where the demon disappeared.
“Sure… sure.” The woman nodded, resting her hand on her sword. Even if the demon had made no move to end either of their lives, the feeling of being prey around him had yet to subside.
Alex tromped through the brush, hoping she was going in the right direction. Yowlers hissed at her boots, baring their saber teeth as they scampered away. “Herobrine? Bro, we are fixing to leave! Herobrine! Come on!”
Silence answered her calls, much to her displeasure.
“I’m gonna leave you! I’ll make up some wild story to Steve! Come on!”
When again, nothing returned her calling, she shook her head, turning to head back.
“You wouldn’t do that, not after our bonding moment last night, would you?”
Alex swore, jumping at the proximity of the demons voice. “Notch’s ballsack! I need to put a fucking bell on you!”
Herobrine chuckled lowering himself from a tree and into view. “I’ve never heard his name used like that.”
“Huh— who?”
Hero waved his hand flippantly at Alex. “Notch. Never heard a curse that involved both his name and his ballsack. I’ll have to spook you more often to see what other curses you use.”
“Please don’t. I don’t need to explain to Steve why you’re stabbed in the gut or why you’ve got a black eye. That would really not be a good look for me.” Alex muttered, beginning to trek back to the wagon.
Light footsteps followed, the demon chuckling. “Yes, I think I would also prefer not to be stabbed.”
“Then we are in agreement? No scaring Alex?”
“For now.” Herobrine agreed, stepping up to Alex’s side. From the corner of her eye, she could see a trace of blood smeared on his forearm.
“What’s that from?” She asked, nodding to his arm as they entered the clearing. Steve waved at the sight of them, a half smile greeting.
“Nothing to be concerned about. The abnormal rodents got me while I was resting, though it is now charred meat.” The fallen god ambled to the miner, brushing off the worry that unfortunately was hinted in the woman’s voice.
“Abnormal rodents— hey wait!” Alex jogged after Herobrine, who was already rearranging the nest of blankets in the wagon's back. Steve opened his mouth to say something, but Alex was already pulling herself up and into the covered end.
Herobrine raised an eyebrow, holding a fur blanket nervously. “I did not offend you, did I?”
“What? No, the abnormal rodents— do you mean the Yowlers?”
“That’s what Steven called them! I forgot the horrid name.” The demon returned to the reconstruction of the blanket corner, where he would spend the rest of the day hidden. “Yes, those rodents. They smell like rotting spiders, you know? I’m sure your human nose cannot—“
Alex grabbed the arm that had blood smeared across it, now dried. The man tensed, frozen as Alex examined the dual puncture marks. “You’ve been bit…”
“Let me go.”
She tightened her hold on the arm, a bit angry at the command. “You’ve been bit, and you didn’t think to tell either of us?”
“Let me go, Alex.” Herobrine’s voice wavered, the command coming out more like a plea.
At her name, the woman looked up from the wound, frowning at the neutral expression the demon wore. “Do you know what you could’ve done if we didn’t find out in time? Do you know who you could’ve killed?!”
At her raised voice, Herobrine yanked his arm a bit harder, Alex’s grip unrelenting. “Release me.”
“You could’ve killed one of us! You could’ve killed Steve!”
“Alexandria!”
Speak of the devil…
Alex let Herobrine pull his arm back, turning around to Steven climbing in the cart. “What is going on?!”
“He’s been bit, Steven, by a Yowler.”
The miner's anger was quickly redirected to worry as he took Alex’s spot, also pulling the demon's arm out without warning. Again, Herobrine attempted to dissuade the man by yanking on the hold, with no luck as Steve’s eyes locked on the twin punctures.
“Sweet gods, that’s deep..” the man commented, frowning at the greenish tint the wound already began to exhibit. “ How long ago were you bit?”
“I am fine. It will heal—“
“How long ago, Hero?” Steve grit out, at his wits end.
The demon visibly shrunk in on himself, averting his gaze. “Just this morning. It will heal, faster than mortal wounds.”
Alex clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “It’s nearly 2 past noon, fever will soon set in. I don’t have any winter breath for a salve— and I doubt there’s any left growing.”
At that, Herobrine frowned. “Fever? Why?”
“Yowlers have venom, which in refined and small amounts is used for sedations. You just got it from the source, which isn’t good.” The woman rummaged around the crates, pushing aside various other healing tools.
Steve turned Hero’s arm back and forth, as if he would find the bite to mysteriously close. “I know you’re not exactly mortal, but the way it’s taken you so long to heal… We need to prepare for the worst.”
Herobrine cocked his head, eyes flitting between the two. “Which is…?”
“Fever, delusions, fighting, foaming, like a lesser rabies virus.” Alex let out a triumphant cry as she found the rope bundle she was looking for. “It’s better we tie you up now than have to fight you down later.”
The fallen god bared his teeth at that, yanking his arm away from Steve. “Tie me up for why? I will break out of the ropes anyways.”
“Their venom is also known to weaken the victim considerably. It’s just a precaution.” The woman said, studying the sudden flighty energy the demon exhibited. “If you can make it to sundown without a fever, we can consider you unaffected, and untie you.”
Alex’s offer raised a surprised brow from Steve, and while she wanted to be offended, she knew he had every right to be surprised. She would normally advocate for a full day, maybe longer for the demon she had been itching to hit— but she knew fear when she saw it. As much as it pained her to acknowledge it, she had seen a lot of fear from the demon beforehand… but that fear was never targeted directly at her. Maybe a bit of wariness or untrustworthiness, but never fear.
As she held the braided rope, she felt the weight of every second pass.
He was afraid of her.
“If you can break out easily, and say you feel unaffected, you should be fine being bound until sunset. That’s only, what? Five, four hours out?”
Steven glanced at the woman, unsure of her newfound compassion. “She’s right. It’s better to assume risk than not.”
“But I’m not infected!” Hero hissed, body coiled tight as he slumped back into the corner. “I’m not some mere mortal, this poison won’t bring me down as it would you.”
“I understand, Hero, but the way our luck has been running— the way your luck has been running, we can’t take chances.” The miner shook his head, exasperated. “We can just tie up your hands? Would that work?”
“No.”
Alex sat down across from the spitting demon, dropping the rope in hand. “Look, I honestly don’t want to tie you up— that just seems like a waste of time and trust, especially after our… what did you call it?”
Herobrine relaxed slightly, perking up at the mention of his joke. “Our ‘bonding moment’.”
“Yeah that. Ugh, that’s so weird hearing it from your mouth.”
“You had a bonding moment?” Steve spoke up, even more confused.
“No— don’t you say it, too.” Alex scolded, shaking false jitters away. “I don’t need to hear it twice. The point is: I wouldn’t try to break that so soon unless it was for a good reason… and not being mauled by you because you can’t make heads or tails of things is something I feel qualifies.”
The silence that followed did not sound approving, Steve glancing between the two. “Is there any kind of way we can make it work? A trade or something?”
Herobrine frowned, thinking. “I will allow you to tie my hands, if Alex is also tied.”
“Wait— but I haven’t been bit!” Alex protested.
Steve snorted. “Maybe you should go poke a yowler, then you’ll finally have something of substance to complain about.”
Alex ignored the jab, hissing a complaint under her breath.
The wind returned a hiss in kind, biting through the open curtains. Hero shivered, baring his teeth at Alex and Steve. Steve glanced away, noting the sudden gray skies with dread. “Snow storm is coming. We need to find shelter for the horses, preferably a barn.”
“What about our current problem?” The adventurer asked, also looking outside at the gloomy clouds. “Even if nothing happens, I doubt we can smuggle a wanted demon into a city like Braila or Stonegret.”
The man huffed, his breath puffing visibly. “There should be some livestock towns outside the city’s walls. Someone’s got to have a room open, and I’m sure the horses would like some place warm.”
Another gust bit harshly at the trio, flurries beginning to fall in promises of heavy snow. Steve chewed on his lip, before closing the wagon's back and pulling himself through the heavy woolen curtains that separated the driver seat from the cargo. Alex followed suit, giving the shivering god a wary look before joining the man up front.
“How far is the nearest town? It’s already coming on thick.” The redhead noted, seeing the flurries turn into clumps of snow.
The wagon lurched forward, Ginger snorting as she pulled the cart back on to the dirt road. Steve pursed his lips, flicking the reins. “Not far. Little town called Annes, I’ve been there a few times. Should still have an inn with a barn and wagon station.”
“And the golems?” Herobrine’s voice was followed by a chatter of teeth. “I know Annes… a bit too intimately, for my liking.”
“There was only one golem last I visited…” Steve sounded less sure of his plan to escape the snow through a warm inn and bed. “Big fellow. Has a poppy growing out one of its eyes.”
Hero hummed, rustling heard behind thick fabric. “I destroyed that one. Last time I was there, there were four golems, made with Netherite cores. Infernal iron was a gift from the Soren knights.” The distaste for the memory was clear, but the demon continued sharing the information. “No infernal or sculk compasses, from what I remember. If I remain hidden enough, the golems will not sense me as hostile. Without a compass, they would just be looking for the normal, obvious threats.”
Alex had to bite her lip from rising to ridicule the demon.
Steve seemed to ponder the information, before flicking the reins. Ginger snorted in discontent, but increased her pace nonetheless. “It’s not like we have a lot of options. For the sake of the horses, at least, we need a real shelter.”
Alex agreed, pulling her hood closer to her face. “Do you think we can make it before evening bells? There was talk of… y’know… him.”
The miner’s lip remained in his teeth, eyes glancing over at the passenger seat. “In Braila?”
”Yeah… she said even the outskirts towns were closing their doors before the last bell. Us showing up after it might not be a wise choice… assuming someone even talks to us.”
Steve scrunched his eyes against the sun and snow, mental gears clinking against one another. “We can make it, might be cutting it close… you should ride on ahead, see if there even is room for us before we pull in.”
Alex nodded, whistling for Mors to move up. The geldings coat stuck out like a soot stain on white carpet— she’d be easy to see from the town, hopefully avoiding any fearful shots made at her. With no time to stop and saddle Mors, Alex threw herself off the cart, landing sideways on the horses back.
She righted herself, tangling her fingers in Mors’s inky mane. “I’ll see you there.”
”Gods willing.” Came Steven’s dry response, but nodded in agreement. “Be careful, Alex.”
The adventurer smiled halfheartedly, bitter winds stinging her cheeks, before digging her heels into her mounts sides. “Gods willing.”