Minecraft: The Mountain

CHAPTER 1

Cold.

The feeling changed everything.

It d been about a day and a half since I d left my little block-shaped shore, and I don t mind admitting that I was barely seconds from going back.

It wasn t the first time I d turned tail and ran well, paddled. A few days after landing on that strange, new land, I d learned enough about crafting to accidentally produce a boat like the one I was riding in now. That time I d been so inexperienced, so scared and frazzled and eager to escape, that I d rushed right down to the beach and set off at full speed for the horizon.

And nearly gotten myself lost at sea.

This time, what felt like a lifetime later, I d been determined not to repeat that same impulsive mistake. I d spent a week provisioning myself for a long journey. I had plenty of food, tools, raw materials for crafting, and, most important, navigation aids like a compass and a nearly blank map. I say nearly because my little island appeared in the map s far east corner. And I mean appeared. The moment I d lifted it off the crafting table, the entire tan surface filled with a perfect, top-down re-creation of my island.

And me! I was on there, represented by a small white arrow that turned and moved along with me in real life. I remember thinking, This is awesome, and with the compass, I ll never be lost!

Following the manual I d found in the mineshaft, I d learned how to expand the map by surrounding the original copy with eight more pieces of sugarcane paper. I d done it several times, until the island had shrunken to a little brown and green speck, surrounded by a thin blue ring and then a giant, blank space. So small in such a big, unexplored world. I still remember that mix of emotion, fear tinged with excitement. What s out there?

I d have to wait another few weeks before finding out. That s how long it took me to write down my first book, leaving it to whomever might follow me. It was a record of all my adventures, and the lessons that came with them. And that last lesson was the one that drove me back to sea:

Growth doesn t come from a comfort zone, but from leaving it.

It sounded so cool at the time, so brave and true.

It rang in my head as I said goodbye to my animal friends, rowing west, turning occasionally to see everything I d known fade slowly into the distance.

Smaller and smaller. Just like on the map. First went the lowlands, then the hill, then my house on top of the hill, and then, finally, the cobblestone observation tower that stretched far up into the clouds.

Growth doesn t come from a comfort zone, I said, turning back to the now setting sun, but from leaving it.

I don t know how many times I repeated that phrase, aloud and in my head, as the sun dipped, the sky darkened, and the pale crescent moon shaped like my island, I thought with an odd pang of homesickness rose behind me.

Hesitation.

There s gotta be land out there, I told myself. Sooner or later, you ll spy something up ahead. It wasn t fear that slowed me down. At least, that s what I told myself. You don t want to miss something in the dark. Another island, low, and without a hill. It might be the start of a larger chain. Too fast and you ll pass right by.

That s what I thought, scanning back and forth while being extra careful not to veer off course. The compass helped, its red-tipped needle pointing straight back to my original spawn point. The map helped too, filling in a straight, thick unbroken blue line as I went, almost as if by magic. No land, it silently told me, not yet. I thought about stopping altogether, taking a break, wa