Warnings: Blood

~Preston's P.O.V.~

     I'm in the midst of melting the face of a slime when suddenly everything seems to come to a standstill. There's a huge blast, and then all at once the mobs stop attacking. Their red eyes fade, and for the most part, they seem confused. A few begin to run away, a few resume their initial attack since they are naturally hostile, and other begin to simply wander. The ones attacking give up quickly. My eleven other me's join my side and re join my body, expanding me back to my normal size. Panting heavily, I rest my hands on my knees, analyzing the area.

       Rob is unconscious by a pool of lava, a golden key clutches loosely in his hand. My heart skips a beat for a moment, and then I calm down realizing that he must've passed out from using so much magic. Plague is impaled on a pillar of stone nearby, his eyes hollow and black, several of his bones broken off and his jaw hanging open. One of the skulls that normally float by his side lays on the ground motionless, it's normally gleaming white eyes as dark as the void. Vikk has turned back to normal, but he's clearly in dire pain, his head resting between his knees as he struggles to regain his breath. The blond haired one is sitting off a little ways, covered in blood and scratches. He's as pale as a snowgolem, just staring at his hands with a numb expression. And that leaves the furry, and quite terrifying, creature, doused in blood, shakily pulling the ominously still form of the winged boy into his arms. My stomach instantly ties into a knot as I see the grey hue of his skin, the black particles floating off his body, and the second either skull laying nearby.

       I shamble quickly to their side, tripping over countless dead bodies and swerving around several others as I make my way over. Vikk struggles to his feet, tagging along at a sluggish pace, covered head to toe in dried blood. We exchange a worried glance as soon the loud sobs of the bacca are audible amongst the chorus of monster noises filling the air.

      "Oh no..." Vikk breathes, bringing a hand to his lips.

      The deathly pale boy with the checkered hoodie is as limp as a noodle in the baccas arms, a cold sweat breaking out on his pain filled face. He spasms occasionally, his breaths shallow and quick, one side of his body completely blackened. Tears stream down the baccas face and he mumbles worriedly under his breath, his eyes wide and un comprehensive as he scans his friends body. Vikk and I stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to say or how to react do what to do. There doesn't seem to be anything we can do.

      "Oh Notch, please be okay.... please be okay..." The bacca sobs, trembling, "Why'd you do it Mitch? Why didn't you let me take the hit? Why?"
      "I'm... gonna go check on Rob." Vikk says slowly, inching away.
       "Yeah... okay."

      The blond haired stranger slowly stands, shuffling over to stand quietly beside me. I glance at him, but he chooses to ignore my presence for the moment. After a moment of silence, even the mobs seeming to quiet down, the tall boy speaks up, his voice scratchy and heavily accented. He addressed the bacca, who has become unnervingly still in the presence of his person.

       "Jerome, I..."
       "This is your fault." 'Jerome' states blandly, gently laying a quickly dying 'Mitch' down.
       "I'm... sorry?"
       "This is your. Fault." Jerome repeats, a little louder this time, his words sharp and unforgiving.

        The blond and Jerome hold each other's gaze for what seems like an eternity, Jerome's eyes cold and bitter and the others guilty and unsure. I still do not know his name. I don't dare ask. The next time Jerome speaks, his words are dangerously quiet.

       "You saw the skull." He accuses.
       "..."
       "You saw the skull, and dove to protect yourself. Like the selfish prince you are." He continues, scowling. "If you had not of distracted me, I could've blocked that attack. If you had a hint of compassion, you would have shouted a warning. If you had done anything, my best friend wouldn't have been lying here, almost DEAD!" Jerome snaps, abruptly rising to his feet.

Did he say Prince? I gawk, staring at the tall blond. I quickly shake my head. Not now Preston! You've gotta say something before they start fighting!

     "Mitch chose to dive and protect you!" The prince retorts, frowning. "It wouldn't have mattered if I tried to save you or not, he still would have made an attempt to save you anyway!"
       "IT DOESNT MATTER!" Jerome roars, baring his teeth, "You were still the cause of that situation!"

        He jumps forward, claws extended, and I instantly place myself between the two. Jerome skids to a stop, growling, and Lachlan glares right back. I'm absolutely terrified, but I put in my stern face, attempting to make myself sound authoritative despite being in the presence of a prince and an incredibly intimidating bacca.

       "Stop!" I shout, extending my arms. "Both of you. Clearly something happened between you two earlier, and I don't know what's going on, but this is not the time to be arguing like children! It doesn't matter who's 'fault' it was, what matters is that we're all supposed to be a team here. I may not know who you guys are yet, but you know what I do know? There's supposed to be six of us and if you two don't snap out of it, there's gonna be five real soon! So pull yourselves together, because the only person here that has healing powers is currently out cold, and in case you haven't noticed, Mitch is dying."

     This seems to snap the two out of it pretty quickly, and they reluctantly back off, grumbling. I sigh in relief, having avoided one crisis for now, and focus on the matter at hand. Jerome kneels by Mitch's side again, resting a paw gently on his arm. Lachlan frowns, blinking away a few tears and looking away. Assuming these two aren't going to be any help, I look around, trying to find anything that will pull Mitch through. Vikk is still checking over Rob, trying his best to clean his wounds with a relatively clean piece of fabric he's ripped off of his own shirt. So it's a no go there, since Rob is out and even if he was awake wouldn't have nearly enough energy to heal Mitch. I glance at the nether-fortress, contemplating checking for any loot like golden apples, and then remember this fortress has bee explored several times, and there's no way something as valuable as that would be left over. I frown, rubbing my chin, my mind whirling as I struggle to find a solution.

Mitch groans in pain, eyes screwed shut, the veins on his face taking on a dangerously dark hue. The wither is spreading. Fast. I look helplessly at Jerome and the prince.

"Do either of you have healing potions or golden apples...?" I ask, under the slight chance in the panic either of them might have forgotten.

They both shake their heads. Mitch moans. I sigh. Rubbing the nape of my neck, I open my mouth slowly, hating the thought of this suggestion but not seeing any other option here.

"Look... Mitch is suffering. He's going to die anyways, there's no question about it...." I begin, Jerome glancing up st me with furrowed brows. "Maybe we should just... put him out of his misery for now? Let him respawn? We can put his gem away somewhere safe for now and-"
"No." The blond interrupts, crossing his arms stubbornly. "I won't have it. Jerome's right, this is my fault. And I'm not gonna just give up now. And like you said, there's supposed to be six of us. Judging by how sick Mitch is now, it's gonna take a longggg time for him to respawn. Months, maybe. We don't have that kind of time."
"I'm with Lachlan." Jerome reluctantly agrees, gazing down at Mitch. "I won't him die. There has to be another way. Isn't there some way to get a hold of a healing potion? A regeneration potion? Something?"

Healing, regeneration.... by Notch that's it! I'm so stupid! I know exactly how to fix this!

"Hold on tight just a second, I have an idea!" I exclaim, running off towards Vikk before they have a chance to respond.

As I approach at breakneck speed, Vikk looks up, wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead. He stands, dusting off the seat of his pants, looking rather glum and tired.

"Preston, hi. How're they doing? Is that one dude okay?" He questions, looking over my shoulder.
"No, Mitch is getting worse by the second. But, I have an idea! You can control or at least talk to mobs, riiiight?"
Vikk raises an eyebrow. "Yea?"
"And now that Plauge is dead, the mobs aren't under his control anymore, riiiiiiiightttt?"
"Yeah..?"
I grin, clapping my hands together. "Perfect! Okay, Vikk. I need you to see if you can get control of these mobs, see if you can get them on our side. Then, see if you can get a couple of witches to deliver some potions to Mitch, Jerome, and Lachlan over there."
Vikk frowns, tapping his lips. "Yeah that could work for now, but no amount of potions is gonna fix him, I'm afraid. It'll just prolong the inevitable."
My smile widens and I tap my forehead. "True, but you know what else we'll have? Endermen. If you can send one or two to the overworld, you can have them teleport back here with a cow and a bucket. If we give Mitch some milk, it should neutralize the effects of the wither."
"Yknow, Preston... I think that might just work. I'll get right to it." Vikk promises with a nod of the head, turning into a bat, and flying high above the sea of mobs.

~~~

     As Jerome holds an unconscious Mitch's head in one hand, and a bottle of milk in the other, he raises the glass to Mitch's lips. The cold white liquid slides down Mitch's throat, and he swallows. The three of us wait in silent anticipation, waiting for Mitch to show any sign of life. Vikk is off addressing his newfound army of mobs, and assigning a few to look after Rob, who has yet to wake up. A pang of worry strikes me, but I know he'll be alright. He's in good hands. I turn my attention back to Mitch, bitting my nails, not daring utter a word in fear a single sounds will kill him.

        Suddenly, he coughs, and his eyes flutter open, the colour returning to his face.

       "Mitch!" Jerome laughs in relief and joy, diving to his side and immediately helping him sit up.
       Mitch laughs weakly, rubbing his head. "Hey, biggums."
       "You big dummy," Jerome chides, hugging him tightly, "why'd you have to do that, huh? You scared me! I thought... I thought..."
         Mitch smiles empathetically, patting Jeromes hand. "Hey, I'd take your place any day of the week. And besides, you know I can respawn."
         Jerome frowns, tears in his eyes. "Yeah I know, but you've never died before. It was really scary..."
         "Well I'm okay now, thanks to you guys."

        Lachlan shoots me a look of gratitude and mouths 'thank you'. I smile and nod in return. As Jerome helps Mitch to his feet, Vikk wanders over, Rob being brought along via an enderman, holding the mage gently in its spindly arms.

"I believe there are some introductions to be made..." Vikk announces, drawing everyone's attention to him. "My name is Vikk."
I wave. "I'm Preston."
"Jerome."
"Mitch."
"I'm Lachlan, nice to meet you." Lachlan finishes, sticking his hand out to shake Vikk's

Vikk shakes Lachlan's hand, lips pressed into a thin line as he studies Lachlan's face. Suddenly his eyes widen, seeming to realize he is a royal figure, and instantly bows down.

"O-oh, you're Prince Lachlan, aren't you?" Vikk fumbles, keeping his head down. "My apologies your majesty."
Lachlan roles his eyes, punching Vikk lightly on the shoulder. "Nahhh, I'm no prince. Not anymore. We're equals now." He beams, flashing his white gem.
"Hey, who's your friend over there?" Mitch pipes up, nodding at Rob.
"Oh, that's Rob. He was a mage." I explain.
Jerome frowns, tapping his foot on the ground. "Hmm... looks like we've got some things to discuss. But first, let's get out of this Notch forsaken place."

~~~
Question of the chapter:

Why is Jerome troubled about Rob being a white gem?

Hint: Chapter 26