Sunlight filtered through the kaleidoscopic canopy of trees high above, scattering down onto the forest floor. Dazzling patches and streams of golden light dappled across the crinkling carpet of yellow and brown leaves, donned in new wraps of colour since the seasons had changed. Crisp, dry leaves had dropped from the branches above, tumbling over one another as they spiralled down to land and cover the earth below. Centuries-old trees with sprawling limbs guarded the darkness, stretching on for miles, limbs twisted and sticking out sharply at all angles, making the path treacherous for one unprotected. A lone figure wandered on and on amid them. Despite the slits of sunlight that pierced through the foliage, darkness enveloped him, like a cocoon only wrapping around one spot - wherever he was. He wished for the torch that he had once had, but it, like everything else in the world, had burned so brightly for a second and then spluttered out, leaving only darkness. Always darkness.

The terrain he walked upon was uneven, and still slightly damp from the morning dew, but he trudged on, a little figure that was dwarfed by the tall trees that surrounded him. Behind, the land seemed to darken with every step, misting in the distance like an unfocused camera lens. His vision was merely a large circular area that turned to a silver haze chunks away until he walked deeper into the unwelcoming forest. He was dizzy as he desperately stumbled forward. Tree branches waved subtlely with every slight breeze of wind. Insects buzzed low to the ground, hiding amongst the foliage. Dashes of colour appeared for moments at a time and then disappeared just as quickly. Hisses, growls and other inexplicable noises, like those one would expect from some sort of tormented or undead character, echoed in what was both an open and yet constricted space. Huddling figures stood slumped over between gaps in the trees, but as soon as his eyes tried to focus on their position, they blurred out and were gone. Why do you taunt me so?

Even the landscape looked alien in his delirium; his vision spun around, the cubes that made everything zooming around yet staying still. "Too dizzy..." he murmured through dry, cracked lips, stumbling onwards nonetheless. At the first clearing on the path he was following, he came to a halt. Light shone more powerfully here, directly beneath a hole in the canopy, so it was a concentrated glare, as if if the sun itself was watching his movements. It blinded him for a tick. Glancing around, he could make out the shapes of shattered, white stones blocks and broken columns scattered in all directions, where they weren’t covered by overlapping layers of blue-green moss and vines that snaked across the surface of the rubble and floor like a thin, green snake. These were the final, decaying skeletons of ancient structures. Ruins. Buildings that had once stood proudly. This was all that was left standing of civilization.

Reluctantly, the man moved on, figure occasionally illuminated in the streams of light for a moment before plunged back into the shadows. One day he would reach the villages of the natives, and all that was left of life on Minecraftia - what did they call themselves: Testificates? Yes, he thought that sounded right. Alas, he knew very little about them, or their customs, but it was the only speck of optimism left. Regrettably, he moved at an unbearingly slow pace; his throat was parched beyond what he thought possible, every word whispered a torment on his scratchy throat, and his stomach was hollow and empty, so that it rumbled loudly every now and then like a thunderous crack. His mind was confused, too. Exceedingly so. Everything was gone. His village, family, home. Everything but the wood pickaxe that hung limply in one hand, the axe that rested in the other, and the sword in his belt that he vowed never to draw until he had the will to forget about the struggles of his past life. These things were familiar to him even in this world of self-destruction and blackness and everlasting shadow.

The night all of the horrific things had happened had been one full of darkness and terrors. Things only known of in nightmares. Green-skinned creatures had come in the night, hissing for hours on end as they approached the settlement. In the darkness, they were moving slowly, creeping, and then exploding, whilst he himself disappeared, leaving all that he had known and loved to go up in flames. For that he had called them creepers, though more unpleasant words could have been used as an accurate description. That night was only of death. Those creepers were only of evil. Yet there were a million of them, and only one man left - a final glimmer of hope for human survival.

Even the wisdom that man had once sought in religious texts had been captured in pyres, millions of words of power destroyed as stacks of books burned.
Since the Cataclysm, all things known by the content inhabitants of Minecraftia had been turned upside down. Walls of stone several hundred feet high that had always been there - a barrier and border between them and the outside world - had crumbled, or otherwise disappeared without warning. Monsters from outside had entered, not of any species similar to those mobs inside, but with the same resemblance of hatred in the unfathomable depths of their black eyes. The monsters themselves had not been the utter destruction of mankind, but they had carried with them a pestilence, a virus, a Flare, this thing that would touch living flesh and burn through it as a flame does through wood. The wanderer's village had been among the first casualties, but the pestilence had swept through all of civilization. He had ran, and though it was a cowardly act - living despite the suffering of others - it was all that kept the race alive. His greatest triumph had occured in the shadow of the world's greatest defeat. Forget it, he told himself. He swore to forge a new society with the Testificates. It would be a Golden Age, he decided. Or perhaps a Diamond Age? He would make it happen even if it had to be finished with his last breath of life. All he needed to do was reach a single village, be able to spread the news of the everlasting cataclysm, so that all could continue in life in Minecraft. So long as his spirits and body were strong, he knew he could survive.

For days, weeks, months even, he trudged on, necessary supplies depleting gradually, rations being repeatedly until they could be reduced no longer. Loneliness settled in, but the only way that would ever be rectified was to keep walking, so he did. As the forest opened up to plains, he took a single gulp of water, and the final drop rolled out onto his tongue. Exhaustion overwhelmed him soon after. Every step was slower, every breath more laboured. Having failed humanity when it was needed most, he collapsed. The smell of smoke was strong in the air as he nestled his cubed face into the hard ground. His eyes drifted shut. Then they snapped open in alarm, moisture being thrown around from his eyes. Smoke meant a fire, and a fire meant civilization. Testificate civilization.

His legs were numb and weak, but he forced himself up, using his tools as props. A frigid blast of air swirled towards him, but he pushed against it. Columns of smoke rose up in the distance. Vision hazy, he could just about make them out, and the rows of wood buildings below. Flames licked at them, but Testificates walked around, arms crossed. Homeless, now, but not alone. One Testificate who had not quite escaped the flames ran around aimlessly, and then crumpled to the ground. Screams pierced the air. It let out one more awful scream of denial, then crumbled into mist, so its body dissolved, almost, until it vanished completely. All that remained were a few streams of grey particles hovering above the ground, swirling around. Other Testificates around wandered aimlessly, not noticing, faces a mask of nothingness, and without emotion. Perhaps they weren't that human after all.

The traveller smiled wearily, but it was a bitter sweet moment. "Winter is coming, and I can feel emptiness," he whispered. The now frigid air caused his laboured breaths to mist in front of him.

His eyes rolled up for a moment as he recited something he had once read. "Herobrine's curse lingers upon me, sapping my strength. It appears that I'm cursed to wander. Alone forever."

Suddenly, the sky darkened as the beating sun was driven behind the horizon, the moon rising in its place. Time in that place went fast: a day could last a mere eight minutes and a night seemingly forever when the mosters came out. Thousands of stars, both shooting and still, now twinkled high above, moving rapidly throughout the dusk sky. Even though the wanderer knew that these things, so beautiful and shiny, were a million years dead, he smiled. Images flooded into his head, but he plucked out one and made his many wishes. They were of his family. Though their smiles brought both pain and joy to him, he held onto the image as he wished for them back. The memories stopped flowing, draining to a trickle, then ceasing entirely. A solitary tear formed in the corner of his eye. He thought he'd used up his tears long ago. He wiped the tear away. Deep down, he knew that it would never happen - he would never see his family's faces again, never touch their cool skin, never speak another word to them - but occasionally having shreds of hope was better than the alternative. That was what humanity consisted of: hope. The foreseeable future was looking up.

Whatever happened, he would build this society with the Testificates - perhaps not quite people, but pure inhabitants of Minecraftia - and then move on. For I shall be a wanderer till the end. Eyes flashing, he dropped his axe, drawing his sword with the one free hand, and its diamond blade reflected a pale sheen onto his cheek. He heard the dull thump that occured as the axe hit the ground. Or perhaps that was his beating heart. "I am Steve." He would survive whatever the cost. This was his world, his life, his game.



This was my entry for the "A Life of Steve" Blog Contest, so I hope you enjoyed, and make sure to diamond :) I put a lot of effort into making this, and I'm glad I did, so let's just hope I have a shot with the contest, eh? Make sure that if it's something you would like to do, that you also make an entry, because I did this simply by seeing another entry and thinking that maybe I too should give it a go. I've been away for 5 months, so why not let me come back with a bang by winning this? Thank you all for reading my entry, titled "Cataclysmic Delirium" - Elderhon / Harry Eaton
I'd love to be an Author when I'm older - since I'm only 14 right now, it'll probably never happen - so maybe this'll be the kickstarter I need for my career? ;)

kaleidoscopic