18 – Don’t listen to me, it’s not like it’s important or anything

It took him a while to figure out that he had no idea where to get the pumpkin seeds he so much needed. He did not have any Ex Nihilo capabilities in this world, despite that being a mod he used to play with in his worlds. He also didn’t remember how Botania or other complicated mods worked without a wiki, effectively being limited in what he could do by what he remembered.

The laser and the battery, although quite complicated to make, were something he knew how to do because he made them so many times he felt like he could make them with his eyes closed now. Pumpkins were different. The idea was to arm this village with an iron golem, but in order to do he needed a pumpkin for a head.

Other possible defense system existed, but he was once again stuck because he had no idea how to get to those. So many possibilities to explore, it would have been almost nice if only he had enough time to explore them all.

The best thing would be to somehow move the entire village somewhere safer, to some place that was easily defensible and with as few access points as possible. Two things came to mind: either move the elves into a cave, which would be depressing but effective or…

“Floating cities!”

Lumia woke up in her bed, the memory of last night like a dream in her mind. A dream that she didn’t want to even try to remember, for the fear of reliving even a part of it was too much for her. And also because she knew it was no dream; it was what really happened yesterday.

She felt like he wanted to curl up and cry. She would have done that, in fact, if not for the fear that her mother would hear her and come in her room. She needed some time alone, or at least some time before her mother would start bombarding her with questions.

“What a fool…” She muttered to herself, rocking back and forth on her soft bed.

The silky sheets greedily absorbed the few tears that fell on them. A crying figure on an elf just stared at the ceiling.

Her mother came in. She didn’t want to see her mother now. But she couldn’t in her good heart voice that thought.

She felt her mother sit close to her, then envelop her in a soft and warm embrace.

“Sweetie…” Tyla said, and did not speak again.

After what felt like ages, she went away and Lumia was once again alone in her room. Tiredly, slowly, she got up, and she left the room. It was night again, but the light of the many torches that lit up the village were reassuring and comfortable. She could hear two voices, one her mother’s and the other was the voice of someone she knew well. Someone from that night. Jacob, her savior.

She approached the talking duo, at the same time making herself as small as possible, suppressing any sound of her steps, of her breath, of her beating heart. Trying to be invisible. Trying not to be a bother, not again.

“I have to go. It’s either that, or you must relocate!”

“The village is safe, Jacob. The beast never came here.” Tyla said.

“Yeah, it only killed half your hunters and almost got your daughter.” He inspired. “It almost got her killed! Killed, goddammit. Do you not give a shit?”

“Jacob, calm down. This is not you talking, it’s the rage.”

“Of course, it is. I’m enraged because you seem to ignore the facts right in front of your face.”

“No, I’m only saying that you are only going to end up killed.”

“And if I don’t go, we all die here in our sleep. How’s that better?”

“Jacob…”

“You know what? It’s useless. You won’t listen, will you? Fine, have it your way. I’m going to go back to my cabin, build an impenetrable shelter, and stay in there while I do my Player stuff and not give a damn about what happens outside. And definitely I’m not going to get myself killed when the beast attacks. If, after the event, any of you who survived decide it’s time to do something, press the red button at my front door.”

He turned his back to Tyla, briefly nodded to Lumia, and stomped away to his cabin.

“What red button?”

“Lumia! How much did you hear?” Tyla asked quickly.

“Mother, there is no red button.”

“It’s not important. Why don’t you come back home with me?” she pulled her daughter back towards the treehouse.

“The button! What did he mean by that?”

Tyla sighed. She turned and cupped her daughter’s head with her hands.

“He will build and place a red button there for us to use, sweetie. Don’t worry, he always keeps his promises.” She said, a warm smile on her face.

Lumia’s face, which had been on the verge of panic up until now, relaxed.

“There, there. Sorry I didn’t understand that you meant that button at first. Now you know, and it’s all better!”

The words were like a soothing melody, like a lullaby. Her eyes felt heavy, her body no longer her own.

“Let’s go. You have to rest now.”