Gravehold City

The air in Gravehold smelled of dust and paranoia, a stark contrast to the clean, crisp snow of Glacierford. But I remembered the snow well. I remembered the arrow, the lava, the endless war, and the heavy burden of the Royal Nether Star. My name is Abigail Crysteffor, and I was five years old again, living a life I’d already lost. I was back in time, before my father became Herobrine, before my mother Bella was hanged, before the world broke.