First chapter of the sociopolitical interpretation of the minecraft lore i’m writing, rest of the story will be on ao3! :)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/58970947/chapters/150328720
Steve goes up to the village and he’s totally a normal guy there is nothing odd about him anyways he needs to buy a bunch of illegal things.
The bell above the shop’s door chimed as he stepped, tiptoed, through the threshold of the entryway. He was assaulted by the smell of mint, lavender, and fresh air whisking its way into the store from the open window by the front counter. The interior always had a homey feel to it. Soft lights, floor rugs, burning candles, and hanging vines adorned the interior of the retailer.
Glancing around, he took in the sight of an underwhelming selection of goods. Hmm, that’s strange. It was a smaller shop, but the shelves were stocked full of books, herbs, and miscellaneous trinkets. Well…usually. Seems like they’re running out of stuff. Looks like there’s still plenty left in stock, but he’s never seen so much vacant space on the shelves before.
Alright, get the brewing ingredients to make the potiony stuff for Willamine and get out before having to talk一
Steve quickened his pace to duck in between shelves. “Oh, hey…hi, Makena, didn’t know you’d be working today,” he dismissed as he perused through the aisles. Specifically the ones out of her line of sight. No ulterior motive there. His gaze trailed along jars of herbs and bottles full of vibrant dyes that glittered from the golden rays of sunshine peeking in through the shop’s windows. Please leave me alone please leave me alone plea一
“This is my shop. I'm like the only one who works here,” Makena countered. She twisted her way through the aisles to meet the disheveled traveler halfway through her store.
The store seemed much brighter with her now in view. Her sunny yellow sweater livened up the space. A sunbeam glittered against the woven pile yarns. Interesting choice, pairing them with mauve dress pants but hey, Steve is no one to tell anyone about fashion. He got scolded regularly for his wardrobe choices.
The place was a small hole in the wall, sort of mom-and-pop joint, that carried your usual essentials like herbs, tools, textiles, nothing special really. But they also carried just enough of the other kinds of goods that the bigger more monitored retailers wouldn’t dare carry. Another reason to like this little middle-of-nowhere village. No one paid attention to the rural poor folk growing wheat and smithing a few swords maybe. Made it much easier to believe a few of them wouldn’t be smuggling treasonous ingredients.
Tariffs, embargoes, and a full-on ban on potion brewing, magic, fun, etc. made certain products harder to find than others, let alone buy. The Overworld was in a political, control-hungry chokehold hellbent on squeezing the life, power, and resources out of anything still left to their own devices. But what is Steve gonna do about that? Actually go to hell? The Nether isn’t great this time of year…or any time of year. And the End isn’t much better.
And today is not the day Steve wrestles a creeper for gunpowder. He'll buy it from the smuggling rubbernecker whose eyes follow him on his way back home a little closely. Thank you very much.
Steve continued to weave through the aisles, browsing at the items on the shelves. Gunpowder, gunpowder, gunpowder…
“Where've you been?” The girl peeked her head into view of the aisle Steve was browsing.
Steve sighed. “Oh, yanno, just around.” He picked items off the shelves and investigated them at random to make himself appear busy. He wasn't in the mood for conversation.
“Around?” she pressed with a curious smile on her face.
“Yeah, well, yanno from place to place, always places to be…hah anyways一“
“What kinds of places?” Makena interjected.
Steve deflected her question. “I’m looking for gunpowder, the uh一fine stuff for brewing yeah? Have any in stock?” Finding where she rearranged the goods for the millionth time was always pulling teeth with her.
“Always business with you.”
“I’m a busy guy.” Steve swished a glass bottle of herbs in his hand, studying the ground leaves swirling inside the container. The crushed plants became more vibrant when a brilliant ray of sunshine reached toward the bottle from the window.
“Surprising. You being familiar with brewing that is,” she elaborated. Makena placed her fingers around the neck of the bottle and plucked it from his grasp. Steve flinched when their fingers brushed each other. The bottle was placed back on the shelf with utmost care.
“It's not your business.” Steve shuffled his way down the aisle to find something else to aimlessly pretend to care about.
“Humans and witches don't necessarily get along. Makes those sorts of things very hard to come by.”
“It`d be a shame if you knew one who could actually brew potions. Even worse if they say, I don't know, shared some potions for a discount? Free stuff from here? It'd be terrible really,” Makena rambled to the other.
That wasn't happening. Willamine would totally do it if Steve wasn't there to intervene. She had no impulse control and saw strangers as an opportunity to make friends. Strangers were an opportunity to get shot. Especially if they were a naive witch with an optimism problem stuck in a cave city for their entire lives. Steve didn't entertain Makena`s proposal on account of how stupid it was.
He was the only other one in the shop with her so he had the pleasure of getting all of her undivided attention. He detested attention.
Makena twisted the knitted fabric of her yellow sweater in her hands. “We’ve been hoping you would stop by, actually.”
“Oh, is that so?” Steve replied. Whatever she was playing at, he wasn't interested.
“Yeah, you see, we need a bit of help with a bit of a situation.” She continued to fiddle with the yellow yarns at her midsection.
“Hm...shame I can’t stick around,” Steve dismissed.
“A job. A, uh...quest if you will,” she pressed further.
“No.” Steve attempted to shut down Makena’s efforts for his coerced participation in events that would cause destruction and conflict under his name. He’s had enough of that for one lifetime. And Serephine still had him ‘running errands’ for her. If they could even be called that. He had enough on his plate.
“Steve一” the village girl pleaded. Her desperate deep brown eyes bore into him. Do not let her guilt trip you.
“Absolutely,” Steve started.
“If you would just hear一“ She tried again.
“Not.” He finished. No way was he being peer pressured into something stupid again like a creeper wandering too close to their blacksmith. Or like that time their ‘golem was acting up’ and all he had to do was clean out the redstone chamber. Or like that other time that a spider made a web inside the bell tower. This village needed to learn how to solve its own stupid problems. Steve was not their gun for hire for menial projects with simple solutions.
“一us out.” She deflated before him.
Makena set the gunpowder on the counter in front of Steve rather dejectedly. At least she got the hint. Steve opened a small, worn leather pouch and reached for his money. Her eyes downcast, she opened the drawer. “Twenty,” she said with no emotion left in her voice. Her spirit dripped out of her before Steve`s eyes. He tried his damnest to not feel bad but he just couldn't keep helping them. It drew too much attention. She placed a hand out for the silver coins. He tilted his hand to let them fall into her grasp. She looked miserable. Don't you dare feel bad he reinforced to himself.
Steve grabbed the box of gunpowder and then made a beeline for the door. “Thank you.” He flicked his hand in the air towards the shopgirl on his way out.
Makena closed the drawer. “I’ll be gone by next week. Most of the town will be too. I’ll leave some gunpowder in the back closet for the next time you stop by. On the house,” she called towards the exit.
What was that supposed to mean? Steve stopped dead in his tracks, turning around to face her. “What?”
“Things have been getting worse…we're all packing up and leaving this week, coupla’ convoys towards the big city. I know it`s already under rule there but at least it's safe there. For now,” Makena explained. She leaned forward to rest her arms on the counter. Her fingers slid back and forth to twirl a spare piece of hair resting on its surface.
“I’m not following,” Steve spoke as he cocked his head to the side.
“I mean, yeah, we kinda figured. You’re not really the ‘travel in numbers’ sorta guy一didn’t really expect you to follow us to the city.” Makena gave a dry laugh at him, a sad smile taking over her features.
Steve gave the girl a puzzled look as he readjusted the crate.
“No, I mean what’s going on?” He asked more firmly.
“You’ve been traveling一said so yourself. It’s not just our village; it's everywhere.” She was studying the lock of hair in her grasp with a bored expression. She let her body melt into the flat surface to rest her cheek on her folded arms. The rest of her hair slipped down onto the shiny counter. A light breeze rustled the stray pieces as it blew in from the window above her. She looked defeated.
Steve didn’t understand. He had to be missing something. How could one of the only truly free settlements be relocating? Certainly, they wouldn’t be safer anywhere else.
Living above one of the last remaining independent mob settlements had unknowingly given them protection from the Brine family’s conquest of the overworld. Sure, they didn’t know that, but they had to have at least figured out they had some sort of immunity given they had always been left alone despite the rest of the human population centers having been absorbed into Brine territory. And now they’re leaving one of the last regions safe from the glowy-eyed mafia? Stupid. They didn’t know it was stupid, but it was. The worst part was that Steve couldn't even explain why this was a terrible play in the tedious game of chess the Overworld civilizations were competing in.
If these people left, they would be taken care of rather quickly by authorities. And not human authorities.
“What do you mean? You’re all just…jumping ship?” Steve set the gunpowder down on the hardwood and approached the despondent shopkeeper.
“Nautical pun! Hah, that’s, uh, bad timing, man.” Makena cringed at him.
“What?” he questioned the girl.
“Why was the timing for your joke bad?” She gave him a trivial expression. It was weird that for once he was the one who lacked information. Normally it was the other way around with the villagers.
“No, why the hell are you all leaving?” He clarified.
“Strength in numbers. We’d be safer, especially since our Sheriff skipped town.” She threw her hands up. That was apparently a sore spot for her. Wait wasn't Makena seeing the sheriff? Or was it the town clerk? Steve tried to avoid any sort of involvement with the village from a social standpoint. Nonetheless, pretty low class for the Sheriff to skip town if there was some sort of threat.
He still didn't have the full story. Or any of it. “Makena what the hell are you talking about一whatever you think I’ve seen一I haven’t?”
She studied him. Her gaze pierced right through him. “You seriously don’t know?” She landed on.
“Well…the pillagers are making more frequent stops here. Few rogue enderman are really upset with us? We’ve never had issues with them, but these ones are weird: dressed differently, acting strange, causing trouble for us, is all. And it just seems the ocean is at war with everything that’s not in the ocean, so, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would’ja?”
Oh, so this was less of a stupid problem and more of a terrorist problem. She should have started with that. He had a gut feeling the enderman and drowned were probably looking for them and not a human village.
Given the circumstances, this was likely a Steve problem because it was technically a Haggstrom problem. And any Haggstrom problem is a Serephine problem which she always handed off to him. This was a Steve problem now, wasn't it? Great. Well not the pillagers, Haggstrom had nothing to do with them. Those guys were probably just bored but it would be an easy fix. He could make quick work of idiots with bows. Historically, the pillager tribes that hung around these parts had terrible aim anyway. Maybe that one could be a Shiloh problem, Steve’s dad was great with bows.
The purple sparkly enderman, a species known for being some of the most cunning warriors who could also teleport because why not? then the warring seas taking their conflict to the surface would be a much more challenging fix. Still his responsibility though. Ugh. Dad should have kept them in the mountains. The only thing that tried to kill them there was the snow.
“The endermen and the pillagers I can fix. Probably,” Steve resolved with an apprehensive breath of slight certainty. He had no idea what he was getting into but when did he ever?
“And the ocean?” Makena sounded hopeful. Too optimistic. If she’s seen the things Steve has seen…
“Yeah, I’m not fighting the ocean.” Steve shook his head. “You guys are on your own for that one.”
One problem at a time. And the ocean was kind of more of his mom`s thing. Steve and Dad did stuff like this and Mom handled everything under the water. Steve would ask Serephine to send a wire down to his mom about her war getting a little too close to home.
“Okay, never mind. The angry water zombies then一“
“Hey, that's offensive,” Steve interjected. He liked the angry water zombies. They were on good terms.
“We are so relieved that you'll help with the endermen and the pillagers!” A sigh escaped Makena. The tension softened from her body, whisked away by the promise of salvation from a world she and her village couldn’t hope to understand in any way that meant anything in the perspective of their everyday, mundane lives.
“Look, I’ll stop home, talk to a few of my…colleagues, then I’ll be back at nightfall to see what I’m getting myself into. All I need from you is to keep everyone inside tonight.” Steve placed the box on the floor and began rifling through his bag distractedly.
“Tonight, huh?” Makena leaned in. She batted her eyelashes with interest at Steve`s plan. Oh, not her too.
“Yes, I’ll be back tonight with more supplies to get a better idea of the whole situation going on here,” Steve answered her.
She responded with a pensive look and another go at a strand of hair. “Funny. Always say you’re not from around here, always say you’re just passing through, traveling, and that home is very far for you. And yet you can stop home and come back within a few hours,” Makena stated一accused.
Deflect, diffuse, abort, adjectives that also meant avoiding open communication, etc.
Steve sputtered to come up with some sort of explanation as a lifeline. He met her gaze with wide eyes. His hand slowly raised from his bag, “I, uh,” he cut himself off. He blinked several times and started again, “Well, you see, I一” He placed a hand on his chest to make his explanation seem more sincere.
“Lied?” Makena cut him off. She directed a devious yet curious smile in his direction. After trying to pry information out of the elusive traveler to no avail time and time again, the victory of chipping away a tiny piece of his rough exterior felt good.
He pursed his lips, fiddling with the strap of his crossbody. Steve’s gaze wandered around the store and he shifted on his feet several times.
“I don’t have any answers to the questions you have. I’m just around sometimes, and that’s all you need to know.”
“I feel like you at least owe us some answers,” Makena countered.
“You asked me for help. I’ll tell you what you need to know. I never lied about being a traveler. I’ve seen more of the world than you have, and I can tell you it’s dangerous. If I tell you any more than that you could be in danger. Trust me, it's best if you stay out of it.”
“That`s cryptic dude. Who the hell are you? No, really—” Makena stepped forward to challenge him. She allowed her arms to swing through the air in frustration at the lack of information Steve let on.
“Tell me about the enderman. That’s what I’m worried about right now and that should be our first priority. Pillagers, yeah, they’re mean, but they’re just twisted angry humans which makes them much less of a threat. Now endermen on the other hand, that’s higher on my list.”
“Well, they’re not the normal ones spotted on the miners’ trips or seen late at night lurking on the outskirts of town, these ones are different.”
“You said they were acting weird and dressed weird一how?”
“Well, they’re dressed in uniforms. All wearing the same uniform. Seems military but no military garbs I’ve ever seen. Got the hats, jackets, lapels, the whole nine yards. Normally we leave endermen alone. Sure they take our stuff, but if we turn the other cheek, they don’t take our lives. Now…they’ve started getting closer, approaching, aggression without being provoked, talking to us…that’s not normal.” Makena recounted in distress.
They weren't wearing street clothes and the only uniforms they had in the city were the police and they didn't take calls above the surface. These endermen were not Haggstrom civilians then. Another complication.
“Uniformed endermen, that’s a problem.” Steve pressed a palm into his forehead and then spoke again. “And none of you looked them in the eye?”
Steve stopped. “Wait一you said they talked to you. What did they say?”
“Nothing we could make heads or tails of,” she dismissed.
“Maybe I could. Makena, I need to know what they said,” Steve begged of her. He hated begging people for things.
“Not like it'll mean anything to you but they kept asking for us to ‘let them in the city.’ That they ‘came for the city’, and they needed to be ‘granted safe entry.’ But Steve, we are in the middle of nowhere. If they’re looking for a city, there’s got to be some sort of mistake. They kept asking to speak with our leader, some duchess or a ‘Serephine,’ but obviously, there’s been some sort of miscommunication because the closest thing we had was our sheriff who turned tail as soon as we suggested he go make contact since our mayor is still bedridden,” Makena rambled, the cadence of her voice became ever more frantic with each syllable.
“Have they hurt any of you?” Steve asked with a serious tone.
“Not bad. Roughed a few of the tougher ones up but…I think if they really wanted to hurt us, kill us, they would. I think they’re lost?” She asked out loud as if trying the theory for herself.
“Nope, they’re definitely in the right place…They just don’t know how to get there. And if Serephine hadn’t mentioned a squad of Enderian soldiers coming to meet with us, and if they were, they certainly wouldn’t be traveling topside. We’d just open our portal for them so they’d already be in the city.” Steve paced the wooden floorboards and tapped his index finger on his chin.
Makena laughed in both fear and disbelief.
“Steve, what are you talking about? What’s going on?” Makena looked terrified. He didn't blame her. These people had nowhere to go. The safest place for them to be would have been Haggstrom but they struck out given they were human. And Steve was a…special case.
“I think it’s a trap,” he concluded.
“You think the endermen are trying to trap us? If they wanted to do that, wouldn’t they have done so already?”
“It’s not a trap for you,” Steve said with grave words and a hardened expression. He clenched his fists at his sides.
“What are you saying?” she pried.
“That you need to keep everyone inside until I give the all clear. I’m going to speak with Serephine and figure out how to handle this without anyone getting shot. I’ll be back as soon as possible. Do not make contact with the endermen. Stay inside.”
“Who’s Serephine? Ugh, never mind!” Makena let that question go in favor of sharing something else. “There’s one other thing. Our men cornered one of the endermen. It didn’t teleport away, it just…cowered. Like…like it was afraid? Then the enderman ran off into the tree line.”
“Ran. Not teleported,” Steve confirmed.
“Yup. It dropped something too,” Makena sidestepped to reach a satchel at the other end of the wooden counter to rifle inside and remove a small flat object that reflected against a ray of sunshine. “It seems like some sort of identification card? It’s written in common which surprised us all, we thought endermen spoke their own language. Maybe this will help you and Serephine, whoever she is,” Makena handed over the shiny badge to Steve.
Steve accepted the small card and studied it. He turned the card between his fingers, playing a few tricks with the tiny object before flicking it out between his pointer and middle finger to be at eye level.
“Atticus Kingsetter,” Steve read aloud. “What are you doing here? And why didn’t you teleport?” Steve murmured.
