To the Void Part 1 (Steve's Perspective)

     Of all the girls I have met, Caitlin was different. They were all beautiful, but Caitlin outshone them in a way that I can't understand. She was different and...I like that. I held a paper crane she gave me shortly before she disappeared. The paper shimmered in the sunlight like a watery moon. It reflected her endearing shyness. She rarely talked to me; in fact, she ran away every time I approached her. However, she helped me when I truly needed it unlike the others who only hung around me for my status. I was captain of the spleef team in high school, played trumpet and guitar fairly well, and good at sword combat, but some people only saw that. I remember spilling ink on my pants in middle school. Back then, I was the despised kid. I couldn't parry another sword to save my life, got horrible grades because the words on the page distorted, and still wet the bed, which I have never outgrown despite what many an unhelpful doctor said.
     "Who are you calling an unhelpful doctor?" Andrew, my longtime friend, came up to me. He sat next to me about half a block away.
     "I never said that." To be honest, I sometimes don't remember what I say. When I referred to the unhelpful doctors, I never referred to Andrew specifically. He has trouble with comments like this, though I am never sure why.
     "Steve, if I could fix your problem, I would do it in a heartbeat, but I can't. Your best hope is to wear protection at night and line your bed with plastic sheets, which you already do. I may be intelligent, but I can't do everything."
     "Yeah." At this point, I resignedly sighed. It felt like I had an entire cave's worth of cobblestone on my shoulders that I couldn't use. I needed to boost my morale, but I wasn't sure how to do it. Maybe I could go on a quest to find Caitlin. She would remember me, right? I told Andrew about my plan to go on a quest.
     "I have a map to her location, but it's a dangerous quest, even for someone like you."
     "Come on. When have I been known to shy away from risk taking?"
     "Still. You could die trying." He tried again to steer me away from my impulsive thinking as he has since we were in the seventh grade. Pointing out every risk, he outlined about twenty horrible ways my life could end. That, however, never stopped me. This was also different from most of my impulses. I felt like I had to do this, but I wasn't sure why.
     "And I can die not trying. What's life without a little risk?" I unsheathed my sword and went on my way. Andrew followed, again trying to dissuade me. We arrived at his house.
    His house was made of oak wood and was mostly average except for the adjacent examination rooms. He claims this configuration makes his patients more comfortable. A door with a coded lock separated this space from his home. Leading me to the dining room, he droned on about attack strategies and tactics. I ended up tuning him out. I can't process information that comes too quickly or does not interest me. As much as I "know" about fencing, I just see it as hitting my enemy with a sword until it dies. I couldn't learn traditional techniques, so I found out what works through (nearly fatal) trial and error. I prodded Andrew into retrieving the map; he still tried to dissuade me from going on the quest while sitting on a chest that I suspected the map was in. Why did he have to be such a good friend?
     I told him to get off the chest. When that didn't work, I lifted him off the chest, found the map, and ran off with it. He chased after me and blocked the door hastily, his dark brown eyes filled with fear and concern. This continued for about an hour and, when he was sufficiently tired, I made a sprint towards my own house.
     From the outside, the house was impressive. It had two floors with a balcony that overlooked a lake. A mineshaft stretched underneath the house for miles and served as a vessel for untold wealth. Wildflowers, trees, and the occasional creeper peppered the surrounding meadow. On the inside, it was nothing special, just a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, a living room and storage space. On the other side, villagers tended their fields, but I never thought much of them. Minecraftians looked down on villagers, but they still smiled and invited passersby to trade. I approached their village with my map, armor, and sword in tow. I stopped to examine the map. The letters blurred and swayed in sickening ways. Even if I didn't read like that, I didn't know the language.
Well played, Andrew. Well played.
     A villager greeted me and volunteered to interpret the map. He persisted until I relented, handing over the map. He said that someone like me could only read it at night and translated it, but I think I needed another translation for the first verse alone.
          Traverse over rocky paths, steep and flat
          And through mires and marshes wade.
          Find this land's most beautiful place
          And be careful not to mar its face.
          Cycles, how they ebb and flow,
          Yet it's up to you where you must go.
          Through storm, through fire you must persist
          As the souls you cherish fade into the mist.
I could write an entire book about my thoughts while interpreting this, but my only thought was "What?". The path went through about one hundred biomes, which was not long for me, but I would have to climb some sections, travel at night which meant fighting off monsters, and I forgot food. I just hoped my desire to see Caitlin could fuel the journey.