On Day 2 of my journey across the world, I died. I was lost for days, directionless, shelterless, homeless.

Days 10-11

When I went to bed, I was pining for a paradise. Little did I know that today I would find one.

Leaving River City found me again on the plains. Will they never end? I found horses, but I still have no saddle.

In the middle of a field I found a patch of jack-o-lanterns. Who carved these? And why did they leave them here? This patch seemed an omen and didn’t sit right with my stomach.

By noon, though, something strange happened. I came across a town, yet again, but this town was different. I’d been here before. Was I walking in circles?

The people here, they greeted me. This was Block Town, the site of my awakening! This is where I fought the zombie hordes! This is where I laid the torn-up floor with acacia wood!

When I died, I was reborn into this world. I am a Pneuma, an immortal spiritual being. My body may die, but my spirit remains. Some people believe that when we die we travel to another world. I, too, thought I had gone to another plane, but I was wrong. I was sent back to this place. There must be a reason!

I didn’t spend much time in the town. I needed to find my hidey hole, the place where I was cut down.

I wandered the plains all night, searching, longing. To my surprise (and unease) no monsters were resurrected, not a single one. Every night of my life, monsters have come out at night. But not this night. The fields were clear. This must be a sign!

I found two villages but didn’t stay long. In one village, while all were asleep, I sneaked in and stole their gold and iron. I was delirious, low on food and sleep. It’s not a good excuse, and I’m not proud of my actions, but they cannot be undone now.

Morning came and I continued my search. Would I ever find my grave? I must! I must backtrack, look for familiar landmarks.

And then I started seeing them. I found the black horse, the mother with her colts, the ones I spared from death. Her colts were fully grown now. How long was I gone? I only have memory of walking this earth 10 days, and yet I must have been gone for months after my death. The passing from life to death to life seemed but a moment to my consciousness.

I continued onward and found the herd of white horses. Too many signs in one day! I knew I was one the right track.

Then I found the pond, the one I’d excavated the sand from.

And then the lava pit, now filled in with said sand. My hole was not far away!

I ran in circles, looking through the weeds and long grass. My hole was well-hidden, that much was true.

And then I found it. Zombie meat lay at the doorway: apparently I’d taken down one with me.

And inside, all of my items, my seeds, my box, my wooden pick-axe and wooden axe.

The sight was too much. I was overwhelmed with emotion and cried. How I found my way back here I do not know.

Outside, I constructed pillars with torches: this should help me should I get lost again.

I went inside my hole, laid my bed and built a fire. I was home. I’d made it. I’d survived. Before I move on, I know I must do something. I must leave a landmark commemorating this blessing. God has returned me to this world. He’s kept me safe, he always does.