At first impression, I was perplexed that the creators, rather than the creatures, were speaking. Then I found out that it wasn’t “story day.” It made sense. Only every other Saturday did the world really turn; the rest of the time, it stayed frozen – preserved – while the creators prepared for the next spin, which was recorded and shown to the world, much like the sky people’s episodes but on a less frequent basis.
I didn’t get to speak with very many creatures, but I imagine that in their eyes, the world spun all the time, like it had for me. Ruxomar was real to me—every second of my sixteen years. Mayhaven must be just as real to those who grew up in it.
Until I left Ruxomar and met my creator, I didn’t see the scope of my reality. I knew that the sky people had larger selves outside the cube-world with lives of their own, but I didn’t know that Ruxomar was a server within a game called Minecraft. I didn’t know how meticulously controlled, how small, and how crude every facet of my life had been.
Then again, I wonder if the creatures of Mayhaven have met their creators. It seems that some of them might have; it’s almost inevitable, with creators and creatures mingling in the same chat. If, as a cube-lifeform, you’re exposed to it from the get-go, I suppose it’s not so bad—like a cat born among dogs. But I’m not sure that I would advise it for everyone. If you’ve been incubated in the cube-world as long as I was, knowledge of the outside may disenchant you to everything that once seemed organic and real about your existence. I wonder if my creator, and the sky people, and every other “player” of this cube-game would feel the same if the gods of their world descended to meet them.
Maybe that’s who Botan is to all of us. Maybe that’s who Ianite’s caretaker is.
Leading into the topic of Botan, there was one very interesting thing about Mayhaven that I’d like to point out: a goddess of vengeance called Sage. She was grey, like Botan, so I immediately thought of him. Furthermore, I thought, “Perhaps the help of such a goddess would be useful in my pursuit of Botan.” So as a symbolic gesture, I paid allegiance to her, briefly becoming “Andor of Sage.” I don’t know if Sage is “real” or if anything will come of it. Wow! I really have been disenchanted to the cube-world.
Anyway, a player questioned my allegiance to Sage. I told them that Ianite was still everything to me, but that for the moment, an alliance with Sage might get me in the right mindset for the task ahead.
Then I found out that Sage had actually gotten power from Botan in order to kill the other gods, but had failed in doing so. And then I found out that Botan had betrayed and used her somehow. That’s a can of worms I haven’t fully emptied out. I’m not sure if I plan to. However, it would be helpful to speak with Sage at some point. It’s just that I’m not sure if I can wait.
Admins weren’t able to give me access to voxelsniper, but I did stick around to chat. If you like what you heard about Sage and Botan, Mayhaven has lots more where that came from. My sister, Alva, is a spirit, World Historian lives (or lived?) inside Ianite, and Mayhaven’s Andor had some sort of relationship to a king (who was another Andor, maybe?). There are followers of World Historian – yes, that came as a surprise – although it’s said that they “follow” him in the hope of helping him change.
I don’t understand that. To help someone, don’t you lead them, not follow them? If someone wanted to become a great farmer or a master of the blade, I might understand some level of admiration for Botan, but if it extended much beyond that, we might have ourselves a problem. I wanted to give it a chance, though. Maybe Mayhaven Botan was different—at times helpful. His critics insisted he wasn’t.
Oh, and another thing. I was asked to change my name from Prince_Andor to something else... because the name of Mayhaven Andor – who’s central to its story – was too similar (PrinceAndor). It didn’t bother me, actually. I’d long given up the title of Prince, but my creator had never changed my official name because he wanted to keep my “account” as authentic as possible. (I wonder if people in my creator’s world have “accounts” as well.) Heck—I would’ve been glad to take a totally different name. It would’ve been a good exercise in detachment. If you’ve read to the end of the Amniosis post, you know that I’m planning to give up my identity as Andor. At this point, I have to, not just for my pursuit of Botan, but for the rejuvenation of my soul. I don’t like being jaded and disenchanted. I want to have a zest for life again. I want to live as though I were a child; as though it were all a game.
But I’m scared. Once I change form, will I be able to retake this one?
You won’t want to.
Well, that dispels a bit of my fear. Thanks, Matthew. And thanks, Mayhaven, for your hospitality. I may visit once or twice again before my flight.
And yes—I met Andor my Mandor of Mayhaven. It was my first time meeting another Andor, but still wasn’t surreal as I had imagined. He had different clothes, Taint on his arm from a laboratory accident, and a boomerang Mayhaven Martha had made for him that looked like a bow. I call it the bowmerang. He invited me to his home, Crown Mesa, and we hung around with elytras killing monsters for a while.
The next day, I returned to Mayhaven, hung out with a highly organized homemaker, died in a Purge at the hand of a Historian follower, and asked them later on about their allegiance to Botan. At first, it was the same answer I’d heard from the others: they wanted to help him change. But as I drew more out of them, a very interesting answer emerged: they admired how Botan didn’t care what others thought of him.
There’s something to chew on.
