Steve had been created a long time ago, so long ago that he couldn’t remember when. On that day he had been dragged, kicking and screaming from the very clouds that were used to create his figure to join his wife, who was born of the autumn leaves. There had been no great reason to their existence then, at the time they merely were. A byproduct of a day when god had decided he was bored of watching his previous creations and was idle. It was no more important than that of the cattle he slaughtered for his evening meals. It was no more important than the monsters he slew at night. It was simply just another struggle to survive. There was however a day when there had perhaps been potential, when Steve and his wife looked up into the heavens and thought, believed, that they, of all people could change the world. That they could drive back the darkness and bring the light of civilization into it, but soon, their hopes were extinguished. Now Steve is alone, but before there was a chance, before, there was two.


           He, was a spark of fire, lighting up the night and burning away the darkness. Chasing away the shadows and the creatures that hid within them. They fled before him, terrified, and night by night his sword, gleaming like a shard of moonlight dripped with dark green blood.


           She, was a clear summer breeze, whimsical and merry, playful yet daunting. Her laughter, which constantly filled the day was so crisp and beautiful that the birds bowed their heads in shame. Sometimes she would sing to them, and then, even the mighty Eagle, which only lowered itself to strike would stop and hover overhead. Steve, no matter how many times he saw her never grew tired of watching the curve of her face. She made him laugh. She made him cry. She was his everything. Her name, was Sarah. She died. He lived.


            Sometime Steve looked up at the stars and wondered why god would forsake him to such a cruel existence. To make him think that something besides the powers beyond could change the world, the universe even, and then take away all those hopes, forcing him to live with such wretched memories forever. A new race could have been born if Sarah were to have lived, one that was powerful, more so then even the darkness, one that would have been the pinnacle of god’s achievements, but that race had been made extinct before it had even begun. Now it was just Steve.


           Steve’s life was but a living death, able to experience life’s hardships, which there were so many of, and joys, of which there were so few yet unable to leave them. Oh he had tried, many times in fact. The first time had been after Sarah died. At that time he was so consumed with grief that he had lain in bed for a period of three weeks, three long, bitter, tearful weeks during which he rose only to eat and drink. During that time the animals starved in their pens, his home, which he had shared with her began to fall apart, but most of all, he cried. He cried and cried and cried until there was nothing left and still he lay there drained willing the tears to come. Then at the end of those three weeks he took his sword, pointed its gleaming edge directly at his heart, and died.


            His second attempt came quickly after the first, he rose confused, but still pain stricken, and then not caring, threw himself off a nearby precipice in another desperate attempt to end it all. On the way down as he flew he thought about his life, about the trials they had went through, about the happiness and dreams they had shared, about how it would all be over soon, until finally, his broken body bounced off of the craggy rocks with an unsettling thud. Again, he died.


            Steve’s third effort didn’t occur for another couple days. He rose once more, his mind a chaotic mess, and then walked back to the overhangs edge. Peering down he could see his shattered corpse lying prostrate across the stones. When he arrived back at his dwelling he spied his own carcass clutching at the massive wound his own blade had created in his chest. It was then not only covered with the blood of monsters but also his own. It took him a day or two to bury both bodies. During that period he consumed fed on nothing. Then, staring blankly at the primitive gravestones that stood watchful over his own graves, he screamed. He screamed loud and long about all sorts of things. About what sort of god would do this to him, about the darkness which they had fought, about the bastard who killed Sarah, and then finally, from sheer exhaustion his body collapsed on his own two freshly dug graves. His throat was bleeding raw, his eyes were completely bloodshot, and his heart, which already was so torn, gave a couple more halfhearted beats before it jarringly stopped. In the forest surrounding his house there was complete and utter silence. Once more, he died.


            I could tell you about so many more stories, but eventually he made his peace. It took many, many, many years for him but he did so. Steve still hates many things, god, for making him suffer for all eternity, himself for being pathetic, and the darkness for spawning the abomination which took her from him and yet he suffers on anyway. Building up his walls and weapons to no point, constructing magnificent buildings that will eventually fade away to nothing. And he knows his life is pointless, knows that everything in his world is pointless. But realizes that even if all these things are true there is no escape for him. He stands only at the beginning of a long, long road that has no end in sight. And although at one point or another everything leaves the road god has decided, no matter how much Steve hates him for it that his time has not come. Until it does, he continues.

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I have a lot of people to thank and very little time to do it but I'll try my best!
Thank you to Jetra, Ludicrous, and Jackie1st for looking a terrible glitch that plagued me for a very, very, vey long time, thank you to everyone who gave me feedback, namely vikki7783, Epic_Max, Zatharel, and Skullduggerycain, and finally most of all thank you Hooper200456, the most amazing artist I know, creator of "The World of Minecraft" who took the time to create me such a wonderful picture.

http://www.planetminecraft.com/member/hopper200456/
http://www.planetminecraft.com/blog/the-world-of-minecraft-the-ender-sword-2867909/