The Villager Book 1: The Lost Emerald (An Unofficial Minecraft Book)

By Ordinary Villager

Lyra is the worst villager in the whole world of Blockseed 3! No matter how hard she tries, she just ruins everything. 

When an adventurer named Luther runs off with the very last emerald in the world, Lyra has no choice but to chase after him. The world is so much bigger and scarier than she realized! 

Delusional skeletons

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diamond Creeper Press
• Release date: Nov 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9798869028068

Book preview

The Villager Book 1:

The Lost Emerald

By Ordinary Villager

Copyright © 2020 by The Infinite Kids Press. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any informational storage or retrieval system without express written, dated and signed permission from the author.

Disclaimer: This book is a work of fan fiction; it is not an official Minecraft book. It is not endorsed, authorized, licensed, sponsored, or supported by Mojang AB, Microsoft Corp. or any other entity owning or controlling rights to the Minecraft name, trademarks or copyrights.

Minecraft ®/TM & © 2009-2020 Mojang / Notch / Microsoft

Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1

Spiders!

Get back! You’re messing with the wrong villager! Lyra bluffed, waving her shovel in the air like a sword. Unfortunately, it was pretty obvious she didn’t have any idea how to wave a sword. The spiders creeping up on her from every direction didn’t look even the tiniest bit scared.

There were five spiders, each one almost as big as a pig. The spiders’ legs made horrible rustling sounds as they pushed their way through the tall savanna grass.

Lyra gripped the shovel so hard it snapped in half. Uh oh, she whispered, staring at the two pieces of wood in her hands. She needed a new plan. A much better plan. Using all her strength, she vaulted over the giant puddle that had once been her family’s farm field. She almost slipped and fell into the muddy water, but scrambled onto a block of dry dirt just in time.

The spiders turned their red eyes towards her. If spiders could make faces, their faces would be surprised. Most villagers just froze or spun in circles when they saw a dangerous mob.

Come and get me, Lyra taunted, luring them into the water. She really hoped that spiders couldn’t swim. Usually, villagers from Lyra’s home village, Chunk 44-12, traveled in groups for safety. This meant Lyra had never met a spider before. One might have been exciting, but five was a bit much. 

Unfortunately, the spiders were cleverer than she gave them credit for. Hesitating for only a moment, they dashed to the left and right, running around the water to surround her again.

No! Lyra threw her broken shovel on the ground and swung her fist at the biggest spider. If a spider could roll its eyes, that’s what this spider did. I. Won’t. Let. You. Eat. Me. With every word, she punched in the direction of one of the spiders, just like she had secretly practiced punching a pile of dirt behind her house. Even adventurers used their fists if all their weapons were broken.

The spiders dodged her easily, hopping backwards and forwards with terrifying speed. Lyra looked up at the bright blue sky. Maybe the savanna wasn’t so boring after all. Any moment now, she would feel long, cold spider legs grabbing her. At least getting eaten by spiders would save her from getting in trouble for destroying the farm field...

A few hours earlier:

On days when she wasn’t sneaking out her bedroom window to practice building or fighting, Lyra lounged around on her bed, wishing something—anything—interesting would happen. She listened to the adult villagers shuffle about, whispering and muttering. Work, work, work, that was all they ever talked about. The fishermen obsessed over fish, the leatherworkers bragged about what tiny holes they could punch in leather, and the farmers like Lyra and her parents argued about whether pumpkins or potatoes were more nutritious.

When adventurers came to the village to trade, Lyra would sneak through the bushes and follow them, trying to find out what normal people talked about. They used a lot of strange words she didn’t understand, but it was way more interesting than the tired old topics of the village. And when the adventurers packed up and moved on, leaving a messy, half-built house and items strewn everywhere, she picked through the ruins and stuffed as many trinkets in her bag as she could fit.

On this particular morning, Lyra hadn’t been sleeping or pretending to be an adventurer. Lyra and Barry (her neighbor and sort-of-kind-of-not-really-sometimes friend) hiked to the fields bright and early, before the sky even turned blue. It was their day to water the crops, a chore which took absolutely forever and made Lyra’s arms ache like anything.

I’ve never seen you get up on time, said Barry, throwing aside his water bucket and lying down in the shade of the trees. What’s up?

Nothing much, Lyra muttered nervously. Barry put his jacket over his face and started snoring.

Lyra carried her shovel and a block of clay to the edge of the river, where she was supposed to be drawing buckets of water. Fresh, green carrot leaves and stout, orange pumpkins filled the fields in rows, waiting to be harvested in a few days. It took hours to water them all by hand.

She had been planning this experiment for months, putting together everything she had learned from passing adventurers. A rotten feeling in her stomach told her this was a bad idea, but she made sure Barry was still asleep, and set to work.

She dug a small channel in the riverbank, moving toward the fields. She grinned in excitement as she put down the clay block to stop the water from flowing into her channel. The sun grew hotter and hotter as Lyra dug as fast as she could, finishing her trench. She thought about how the villagers would cheer when they didn’t have to water with buckets any more.

Barry! she yelled. Her friend sat up and rubbed his eyes. Check it out!

Digging up the clay block with her shovel, she watched sparkly blue water rush over the dry dirt toward the field. Um...what are you doing? Barry asked, standing up. He looked a little worried. That’s a lot of water.

It’s ok, the adventurers do it all the time.

Water rushed over the toes of Lyra’s boots, getting more and more powerful. Lyra? Barry said. I don’t think this was a good idea.

Before Lyra could protest, the water hit the field. Instead of flowing into the dirt to nourish the plants, it rolled over the ground in a huge wave. Right in front of Lyra’s eyes, crops started popping out of the ground and floating away. No, she yelled, jumping up and down at the edge of the field. Stop! Stop! She grabbed a carrot and tried pointlessly to stuff it back into the dirt.

The water didn’t stop until the field was basically a lake. Instead of salmon and squid, soggy vegetables swam sadly through the water.

Lyra, you’ve really done it this time, Barry whispered, his eyes bulging. He backed away from her.

Barry, wait! Where are you going? We can fix this! She tried to stall him, but unfortunately it didn’t work.

I need to tell my mom what happened before she thinks it’s my fault. I’m really sorry, Lyra. Barry didn’t look all that sorry. He took off running down the path, and the fields grew very quiet except for the burbling of water.

Collapsing onto the ground, Lyra shook her fists at the sky. Why hadn’t her plan worked? Everyone in the village had at one time or another told her to stop messing around and learn to be a good farmer. This was...not what they meant. Ugh!  she shouted.

A tiny skittering sound behind her made her sit up. Is that you, Barry? She turned around and found herself staring into an alarming number of red eyes, all of which reflected her startled face. The spiders must have been hiding in the long grass, waiting to catch one of them alone.

And that’s how she ended up here,