"The true teacher defends his pupils against his own personal influence."

~ Amos Alcott

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Herobrine may have been many things, but he wasn't a liar and within a few days (and after much thought), a large section of the training ground had been sectioned off and five sorcerers - two women and three men - were standing at the edges of it. They shifted from foot to foot and looked around the area, talking amongst themselves. Like they had been told to, they wore long-sleeved shirts and long pants, all comfortable with no flapping pieces of cloth.

Herobrine arrived not too long afterwards, wearing his usual attire. His white eyes spotted them instantly and he beckoned them over towards him, dropping his sheathed sword on the ground as he walked into the centre of the training area. "Come on, let's take a look at you," he said in a neutral tone.

The sorcerers lined up, each a few steps away from the other, facing Herobrine. He glanced up and down the line, analysing how they stood, the way they watched him, their even gazes. "So you guys don't know any combat magic at all?" They shook their heads mutely. He inwardly sighed. "Alright, let's just see what you can do then." He flicked a hand and from a group of rocks he had piled up the night before,  each about the size of a small melon, five flew out and landed lightly in front of each of the sorcerers. "Levitate them for me."

One of them scoffed. "I thought we were supposed to be learning combat magic, not doing Sorcery 101."

Herobrine tilted his head the tiniest bit and looked at the man. "What's your name?"

"Diego."

"Diego. Right, levitate that rock for me and I'll teach you that combat magic you want to know."

Diego rolled his eyes but did as he had been asked. He raised his hand in front of him and the rock lifted off the ground, hovering a metre into the air before stopping. "Happy no- OW!" The last exclamation came after something hot stabbed at his lower leg. His concentration was instantly lost and the rock dropped to the ground like... well, like a rock. He rubbed his leg and glared accusingly at Herobrine. "You did that."

"Yup," Herobrine said with no shame. "And you failed to keep the rock in the air. Again, all of you this time."

Five rocks levitated into the air and over the next hour, were dropped countless times with accompanying swears, angry mutters and hisses, all with the lovely backing track of Herobrine saying "Again" or "Come on, keep going" or "That barely stung, stop complaining". His flippant remarks drove the students to madness but they shut their mouths, grit their teeth and worked harder to prove to this stuck-up man that they did have what it took, which was exactly what Herobrine had hoped for.

They started levitating two rocks, then three, and then four, ignoring the stinging on their legs, arms and shoulders and pointedly ignoring Herobrine as he randomly flew through the air, sporadically creating fire, strands of magic, figures of dogs, cats and other animals and jumped in the air for a moment before disappearing with a flash and a bang and just generally being a nuisance (although he was greatly entertaining the gathering crowds). Diego dropped his rocks yet again after Herobrine let loose another succession of bangs and flashes and he yelled in anger.

"Will you quit distracting us?" he yelled.

Herobrine halted and hovered just over a metre above the ground. The stings and various other forms of comotion instantly stopped. "No," he said quite clearly, instantly gaining all of their attention. "Because in a battle, things are going to be confusing. When you're fighting, you're not going to be able to tell the enemy 'Just stop for a moment while I do some quick magic over here and then I'll get back to you'. You've got to dodge their attacks, work your magic, keep an eye on your friends and block any of their magical attacks all at the same time. You've got to practice concentrating, or else you're dead meat."

That ended the complaints.

Thankfully, things did get much more interesting once they were apt at levitating rocks. They would line up every second morning on their section of the training ground and every time Herobrine would walk on, drop his sword at the exact same spot and with a wave of his hand, the dreaded rocks would come flying in. But one morning, after dropping his sword, he waved his other hand and a thin veneer of white magic circled around them like a dome, emitting its own dull source of light.

"What's that for?" Katelyn, one of the training sorcerers, asked, nodding her head toward the shield.

"So that any stray magic you guys make doesn't destroy the place," Herobrine said.

"Because, of course, you don't have any stray magic," Diego said curtly. He still hadn't fully forgiven Herobrine for that incident on the first day.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. The simplest combative-style magic is literally just ropes; strands of your magic solidified. They're versatile, easy and you can manipulate them in midair. The downside is that they're predictable and easy to see. Let's see how you do."

Despite his original fears, Herobrine was a good teacher. He didn't mind explaining things multiple times and he often did it in different ways so that they could understand better. The five improved at combat magic at an astonishing rate and the dome was soon filled with flashes of different magic colours as they aimed spell after spell at the dummies Herobrine had set up. The dome proved its usefulness as several spells clattered against it, pulses of white sent in a shockwave across the shield. Herobrine wouldn't let them duel each other and so he duelled them instead, which they all discovered to be a wise choice after a wayward spell would have taken off his head had he been half a second slower.

It took them several weeks before Herobrine deemed them to be skilled enough to duel each other, with him watching very carefully. He never said it to anyone except for his brothers and Wolfgang, but he was extremely pleased with how fast and how well they had learned. Katelyn and Chris, a young albino man, were naturals and Diego wasn't far behind them and had even become more of a team player after suffering a few more dents to his ego.

The attack happened so suddenly that no one, not even those who daily stood outside the dome and cheered on the duelers, saw it coming. Chris and Diego were fighting, with Herobrine pacing around, watching their stance and the way they moved, occasionally calling out corrections and reminders. People around cheered with every spell the two cast, even when they were blocked by a quickly summoned shield or evaded by a simple but useful side-step. Out of nowhere and with no warning, a figure dropped from the sky and crashed with a sound similar to a thunderclap onto the shield. Herobrine stumbled, his right forearm instantly coming up as if he was protecting his head from a blow. The shield flashed white and wavered, but it held.

Everyone looked up at the attacker and the cheers stopped, but there wasn't much to take in. The attacker was dressed completely in black, with a black strip of fabric covering their nose, mouth and even their eyes. Their right hand held a sword with the flat of the blade pressed against the shield. It seemed that they had tried to pierce the bubble but the sword had skid and gone sideways. For a moment, everything was still as Herobrine and the attacker stared at each other.

Then several things happened all at once. In their minds, the five training sorcerers heard Herobrine's voice telling them to get back and stay out of the fight. At the same time, Herobrine's right forearm came down and the shield instantly disappeared. The attacker dropped from the sky, their limbs momentarily flapping before training kicked in and they changed their grip on their sword. Herobrine's sword flew out of its scabbard from the edges of the ground and flew into Herobrine's hand, spinning the right way so that as he grabbed it, he raised it to block the strike that would have taken off his head, his left hand holding the end of the blade. As their swords connected, Herobrine grabbed the assassin's wrist, pulled them down and sideways and aimed a powerful kick at their chest, releasing them in the same moment.

Most of those watching only saw the figure drop and then being flung away, rolling several times before kicking their legs, flipping in the air and stabbing their sword into the ground, carving a deep line before coming to a halt. They withdrew their sword from the earth and probably stared daggers at Herobrine, who stood facing them with sword held out.

"Don't you know it's common courtesy to show your face to the person you're challenging?" Herobrine asked cooly.

"Dead men don't need to know faces," the figure replied in a muffled voice. They sprinted at Herobrine, their sword whizzing through the air as they moved with inhuman speed.

Herobrine calmly deflected each of their lightning fast strokes, stepping deliberately so that each sword stroke either clashed against his blade or missed him by a hair. He was never once out of balance, always perfectly in control, centuries of training showing their mark. The constant near-misses infuriated the attacker and their strikes became faster and more unpredictable, each moving with less precision. Herobrine smoothly ducked under their blade, coming up behind them, his sword moving up.

It was a testament to the sharpness of the blade as it cut through the concealing folds that covered the attacker's face like they were made of butter. Herobrine flicked his hand, stepping aside as a coil of white wrapped around the figure's waist and threw them back. They landed awkwardly and stopped in a squat, one hand going to their face before dropping. It was clearly a man, with dark brown skin that made his teeth seem unnaturally white as he sneered. A shiver went down those watching as they saw that the man's teeth had been sharpened to a point. His eyes were a dark brown colour but were flecked with bright green that also rimmed the iris.

"Oh, it's you," Herobrine said, one eyebrow flicking up for a moment. "Still Entity's lapdog then?"

The man grinned. "You've been off the scene for quite some time, Herobrine," he said, his voice smooth. "Did you miss me?"

"Yeah," Herobrine said easily. "But don't worry; I'll aim better next time."

His hand slashed in a horizontal motion and shards of white magic shaped vaguely like daggers materialised in the air around him and raced towards the man. Neon green magic formed a shield that the daggers clattered against but their master hadn't been far behind and his sword slashed a line across the shield. The white strands of metal in the sword seemed to glow and the green magic disappeared.

The man yelped in alarm and dodged the blade, quickly pacing backwards while throwing multiple green ropes at Herobrine. He slashed through them, the magic dissolving before it could touch him. Swords clashed against each other again. The man quickly displayed his skill and Herobrine was pushed back under the sheer onslaught of a flurry of moves, each perfectly executed. There was another thunderclap and Herobrine went flying back, landing in a roll and halting in a low stance, one knee on the ground.

With a snarl, the attacker ran forward, sword coming up for a downward strike. Herobrine waited where he was, his sword on the ground, holding his head in his other hand, disoriented. He was facing an empty spot to the enemy's right, his left shoulder turned to him. It was an awkward stance, one that he would be hard pressed to defend from but there were only seconds until the man was upon him, and he seemed in no condition to react suddenly.

A voice speaking in a crude dialect called out from the crowd, Notch's voice, speaking words that Herobrine recognised to be calling him move, but he stayed where he was, watching the approach from the side of his eye. At the last possible moment, he rose fast, his lowered knee pushing off the ground, his sword coming around as his body turned to face the attacker. The sword came up, the point of it being supported by Herobrine's left hand. The blade came up faster than the enemy's came down and it bit into the forearms of the man.

As the man grunted in pain, Herobrine pushed the man back a single step and whipped his blade backwards. It came down in a powerful vertical cut, slicing deep into the man's right shoulder. Another rope of white threw him backwards and as he landed, Herobrine pointed his blade at him and twisted it. The white streaks in the metal glowed and green light shot forward; the enemy's own magic that had been absorbed by the magic-infused metal. It hit true and a cry came from the man, thrown back yet again. He stood slowly, blood pouring from his forearms, shoulder and chest.

"Attack again and I will kill you," Herobrine threatened.

The man gave him a pained glare. "You have no idea what you've started," he growled. Green mist swirled around him and latched onto his skin. It faded a moment later and the man was gone. Herobrine spun his sword in his hand and tapped it against the ground a little, as if he was having a quick think. He swung his sword up so that the flat of the blade was resting against his shoulder and he strolled back towards the training sorcerers, all of whom were staring at him with mouths dropping open.

"Alright, back to work," Herobrine said as if he hadn't just taken down another powerful sorcerer in a few quick minutes.

He worked them later into the evening than normal, so that the flashes of magic stood out in the gathering dusk. Then he finally let them leave and whisper among themselves, glancing surreptitiously over their shoulders at him. He took his time sheathing his sword and positioning it carefully on his back before taking a walk around the edge of the training ground. He was just about to leave for his room in the castle when he saw a shadow standing perfectly still against a house. The dusk meant that their features and the colours of their clothes were hidden.

Herobrine knelt down and untied his shoelace before doing it back up, watching the man between the long strands of his hair. His stance, the way he leant against the wall, they were familiar after seconds and the muscles in Herobrine's arms tensed. For a moment, he was torn between ducking away or drawing his sword, his hands freezing in place.

"Come on, just do it," Herobrine muttered angrily to himself. He pushed himself up and walked towards the shadowed figure, turning to lean against the wall next to him. "I would have thought you'd be inside by now," he said slowly and quietly.

The figure hummed. Herobrine waited for him to say something. He started tapping his foot against the ground until he couldn't take the silence any longer.

"Look, I know you don't like it, but I didn't have a choice," he finally blurted. "It's just that you can't always take the diplomatic route and I've been around these guys long enough to know that they don't stand around and chat and there were a lot of people and the guys I'm training aren't able to defend themselves yet and so I had to put him out of fighting quickly but-"

"It-It's okay," his brother interrupted. "You did what you had to do and I don't blame you, it's just... you know, seeing you standing there with your sword and that look on your face, it just..."

Herobrine couldn't meet Steve's eyes. He stared at the dark ground, arms wrapped tightly around himself. He felt a horrible, leaden sense of guilt building in the centre of his chest. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "For... for doing that-"

"It's okay," his brother interrupted again.

"No it's not."

"Well it is now."

Herobrine gave a deep sigh. Steve tapped his finger against his arm a little. "You're pretty good with that sword," he said. "It was... pretty awesome, actually."

"It's just practice," Herobrine mumbled.

"Do you... do you think that you could train me?"

The younger's head whipped around to the older, not entirely sure if he had just heard the words right, but he had. "Are you serious?"

Steve shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm not brilliant with a sword, and I've only gotten worse since..."

There it was again; the guilty feeling yanking at Herobrine's insides. He swallowed it down. "If you're sure, I mean... I'd be happy to." He saw Steve grin at him and quickly added "But I don't know what people are going to think when they see us dueling."

"What about if we train at night?"

"You do realise how dangerous it is to be playing with sharp objects in the dark, right?"

"The guy who can create fire out of thin air is worried about the dark?"

"Really? Just so you know, I am pulling that displeased face you're so fond of."

"Oh no, not the displeased face!"

The obvious humour in Steve's voice reduced them both to chuckles and they left their post by the shadowed wall and turned up the centre street, strolling towards the castle.

I took Herobrine's fancy move back there from a book called Moonshadow: Eye of the Beast. The move itself is called Tsukikage, or Moonshadow, and it's an ancient Japanese shinobi technique.

Hope you enjoyed!