Villagers

"A Diamond ... sword? And a diamond helmet, a diamond pickax, a diamond everything!" - my delight knew no bounds - "Steve, have I ever told you that you are a true Master?"

"Maybe once, but I won't mind if you say so again."

"No, let me say it again. You are a genius! I would have never thought of this."

"It's really not a big deal. Besides, we found those diamonds thanks to you."

Only a few days passed after our adventure in the mine shafts and the dashing pig ride. Steve literally didn't leave his crafting table since our return until now, when he presented me with a full set of diamond armor and tools.

Carefully, I took the sword, with amazement studying its brilliant sharp edge, and swooshed it through the air.

"Amazing! Its lighter than iron and easier to hold."

"It is also stronger and sharper. Here, try on the armor!"

Steve truly was a master. The armor sat lightly, evenly and did not constrain movements at all. Great!

"You like? And here is something else... While we rode those pigs high up on that ledge, I think I saw an abandoned village on the other side of the ridge. How about we take a little walk there and explore?"

"Sure, why not. I've never seen a village." I shrugged.

"Good. And I'll look for chests!"

That's exactly what we did. Equipped with a full set of armor, armed with new swords, we jumped on the back of our pigs and rushed toward the ruins of a village that Steve spied earlier.

Only we seem to have misjudged our direction and got slightly lost in the forest, ending up facing a sheer straight wall of rock.

"Oh, well. Lets just break through it." Steve readily produced his new diamond pickax, eager to try it out. The memories of running around the abandoned mines immediately came into my mind.

"No, no, no. Let's just go around it." I hurried to suggest. Steve sighed with disappointment, but put away his pickax.

Once again we rode our pigs, but not for long.

"Watch out!" Steve warned. But I could already see it myself – there was red-hot lava pooling just up ahead, blocking our way. The lava source came up close to the ground and formed a small lake filled with a thick, gurgling liquid. A few steps away a water stream rushed past.

Arming himself with a shovel, Steve dug a path for the water stream to reroute it. With a loud hiss the water poured over the lava, cooling it enough to form a thick, blue-black crust.

Out of curiosity, I picked at it, trying to get at least a small piece of the mysterious stone, but it proved hard even with a diamond pickax.

"That's obsidian, Davis. Leave it alone. I still don't know what it could possibly be used for." Steve said, brushing off his hands.

"Hold on... I almost... got it!" With an effort I managed to break off a tiny piece. This stuff was solid!

"Great. By the way, it is also the most durable material that I know... Hey, you should get some more of it and build yourself a house. If you are not too tired!" Steve chuckled while I grunted. Getting obsidian proved a difficult task.

I slipped the dark pebble into my pocket, deciding to keep it as a souvenir. Then, we continued, soon coming in view of what seemed like houses. They came closer and closer. Soon, I could make out the tall chapel, the low-lying forge, the wooden shacks on the outskirts and... figures scurrying between buildings.

"Davis ... do you see this, too?" Steve's voice shook with excitement.

"Yes. They don't look like monsters. They look like – "

"People! We are not alone!" My friend exclaimed and spurred his pig. I followed him.

The villagers noticed us, too. People poured out of their houses to meet the unusual wanderers. We drove into the settlement amid excited attention. We must have made a sight! Two armored warriors with gleaming diamond swords on their belts, riding noble steeds... Well, let's not embellish it too much. The saddled pigs clearly spoiled the image, but we still made quite an impression.

"Hello, friends!" Steve declared, dismounting. Only silence answered him. Carefully, I studied the locals. Long-nosed, large-headed, with thick eyebrows, they looked almost identical to each other, and yet different from Steve and me. I would have said that they were ugly, but suspected that to them, we probably looked ugly, too.

The crowd parted, letting a man dressed in purple clothes, who might have been their leader or a priest. He approached Steve and muttered something.

"Another language?..." I asked, puzzled.

Undaunted, Steve pulled out an iron bar and with enthusiasm waived it in the air.

"Trade! We give you, and you give us!" He exclaimed.

Another resident then stepped out of the crowd, his black tattered apron showing him as a blacksmith. Meticulously, he examined Steve's iron bar and then pulled out a small, green stone from his pocket, which he seemed to want in exchange.

"What is that? An emerald?" Steve reached for a pebble, but the blacksmith deftly hid it in his pocket and nodded at the iron bar, lifting eight fingers.

"Eight bars for one stone?!" Steve indignantly began to protest, but paused, thinking.

"Actually, that's not a bad trade. I can pour more iron later..." He dug into his travel bag and began to pull out iron bars.

The trade with the ironsmith completed, things began to proceed smoothly as the other villagers drew toward us with more offers. We gave coal to the butcher in exchange for the kindling stones, spider webs to fisherman for fishing lures, and helped the farmer to gather wheat from the nearby fields. At the end of the day, we wiped the sweat from our brow and counted our earnings – a dozen tiny emeralds.

Now we just had to decide what to do with them!...

...

White eyes stare endlessly into the void. Thoughts flow, languid.

"Mortals... Those two are not bad. As sustenance... Let's see what they will do next..."

"They are running... Trying to hide..."

"Let them... It will be only more fun to track them like prey... "

"They are still weak... Cannot cross the boundaries of this world..."

"Cannot escape from me... Because the World..."

"Belongs to me..." A creature older than the universe turned, gazing at the approaching night. The darkest, moonless night.