Chapter Text
Grian is yet again in his starter base, this time not enclosed by stone walls that seemed to whisper and stare at him, but a warmer atmosphere suffocates him as he stares, pokes, prods, even bites the cold and craggy stone that he can only blame himself for. He holds a scream in his chest that has been building for years, but rises once again, clawing at his throat, desperate to be let out.
And he is desperate to let it out.
Grian sighs and buries his face in his pillow, keeping his wings close to his back to avoid having to look at them. He groans and the scream reaches a dagger-like claw up into his mouth, but he continues to push it down.
How did this happen? Grian was sure he went over every part of the deal and this was not in it. The lack of coagulation on small cuts and the desire to throw himself off of every building and cloud in the sky was odd and made him uncomfortable. He had to have missed something, that would be the only cause of the small yet noticeable calms before the storm of his wings.
Grian thinks about the deal again, a picture of the contract appearing in his mind thanks to his new guest. He assumes it’s being so forthcoming with the actual pieces of the deal as it’s too late for him to back out now, like a clause on the last page of a book, a clause that hands your soul over. Void knows if he had a nickel for every time that happened, he’d have a truly uncomfortable amount of nickels.
“Should you accept this deal all will know who you answer too, whose mind is mine.”
Grian groans again at the words pulled from the vagueness of the images and feelings he had originally been shown, it should’ve been so obvious. “All will know”? Of course that would lead to his wings being stone! He was shown a vision of himself turning to stone to protect Scar for Void’s sake! Void, he can be dense, huh?
“We will help each other yet you will help me more than in strength. In life I will prevail where you will fall.”
Oh, classy. A pun in the contract for his SOUL. Grian actually lets the scream leave his mouth this time, holding a pillow close to his face at the revelations he wishes had not been revelations.
“I will feast when you bleed, your mind as mine and your body as your own, but once your blood hits the air it belongs to me.”
Grian made a mockery of the words relaid to him at the air as he sat up, the fingers that reached his scalp feeling colder and catching more on his hair. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh as he learned all of what he agreed to, really feeling like he needs to start more thoroughly going through deals now. Stone scrapes across his head as his grip tightens on his hair, frustrated at The Rift, The Entity, Them, and most of all himself. He allows himself to yell, knowing others will hear but not caring anymore. He lets the frustration and rage at himself and forces beyond him escape in one loud cathartic yell.
Grian sighs as his communicator buzzes, he picks it up and finds a message from Jevin.
<iJevin> Did anyone else just hear that loud scream?? Everyone alright?
<Grian> Sorry, that was me, noticed something off in my plans lol
<iJevin> Ah, I see, you good buddy?
<Grian> All good over here
That was his chance, his chance to admit that he had fucked up and all he had done with the plate handed to him was push it back, claiming to not be hungry as his stomach growled and gnawed at him. Grian sighs, fingers hovering over the keys to say that he actually wasn’t all good, he was in fact a huge idiot who once again forgot to read the fine print over a contract for his soul and was now facing the consequences of his actions but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He groans and puts his communicator away, running his hands through his hair again.
Grian gets another message, this time from Scar, asking for help down in an ancient city. Grian can only assume the worst will happen, but it’s likely to be funny so he goes. If he’s quick no one will see him and the increasing amount of stone on his body, he would be more worried going into the ancient city, but it’ll be too dark for Scar to notice anything, he’s sure of it.
The loud whistle of a rocket overheard is what first alerts Scar of the hero who has come to his aid, the steps on the deepslate following (of which sound too heavy to be Grian) is what allows him to turn his head at just the right moment, torch in one hand, a silk touch hoe in the other, mouth open to crack a joke but before any words leave his lips Scar sees a skeleton behind Grian, his eyes widen as time moves slowly, realizing neither of them have time to pull their weapons out and with Scar’s elytra off in favor of protection from the warden well, let’s say it’s a long fall down and skulk is surprisingly hard.
In a split second Scar can only watch as Grian’s large claws and forearm (had Grian’s claws always been that large? He could’ve sworn they weren’t that rough looking either) spread wide to form what, in the low light, looked like a shield, catching the arrow from the skeleton. Scar begins to sputter like an old car in response to what he has just seen before he is shoved off the precarious ledge and into the deep dark. Scar yelps and notices a blur, drop next to him and the next thing he knows he’s landed in water.
“Grian! What was that?!” Scar huffed as the water was soon put back in its bucket. Grian simply smiled like nothing was wrong, but in the faint torchlight Scar could see his friend’s skin changing, from a stone-like gray to normal skin. The only reason he could even watch the change was that the stone had ripped his sleeve! He couldn’t have been imagining things if the sweater was ripped! Scar didn’t pay attention to Grian’s words, only hearing whispers of words as he stared. Scar knew something was wrong. Things had felt off for a while, but this was the confirmation he needed.
“Actually Grian I have to do something else, thanks for coming down here and saving me, but I gotta go!” Scar waved and smiled before he took off, his elytra finding their home on his back and the wind gently carding through his hair. Grian was left alone in a cave, very confused by his friend’s sudden departure, but Scar was on a mission. Ren had to know. This was bad news.
With a landing that could’ve stood to be more gentle on the joints Scar was at Giga Jacks, Ren’s head poked from behind a couple shulkers, a few words just barely leaving his mouth before being interrupted, “Dude! I think Grian made another deal!” This caught the wolf off guard, his ears leaning back as his brow furrowed, “What do you mean? What could he even have made a deal with?” Scar recounted the events of a few minutes ago, pacing as he did so, organizing his thoughts and getting Ren on the same page.
“Jeez, that can’t be good… Look, let’s go talk to him, see if we can talk some sense into him before we take more proactive measures, yeah?” Scar nods as the two set off, looking for Grian as Scar’s stomach twists, knowing something is deeply wrong.
Grian sits on his knees before a sinkhole, the rope around his neck pulls him in but he refuses, causing it to tug harder. He clasps his hands as if in prayer, regretting the actions that lead to this, wishing he had left the damned Rift alone, wishing The Entity had not put a bookmark on his existence, and wishing most of all that he had just left the Mycelium alone. He does not cry, instead he is silent, which to others may seem worse. He sits in front of the sinkhole, knowing how easy it would be to follow the rope, but he has been tricked one too many times for him to willingly follow. A bird on a leash isn’t a common sight, even less so when the bird in question is as stiff as the stone that seems to reach up from the sinkhole. Grian was never one for prayer, but in this moment he doesn't know what else to do. He holds his own hand, his knuckles white as his claws leave dents on his flesh, his teeth grind against each other, the same way his knees bury themselves in the soft dirt below them and he prays, begs, pleads for any way out. He made a mistake yet again and he believes he has atoned, he can’t stand the itch of the rope around his neck, the itch to fall, the cuts that never heal, and most of all he is sick of the fucking moss that coats his body like a branding that feeds on the sun and himself.
And at that moment he didn’t think it, but later on he would realize that the voices calling his name in the distance was his prayer being answered. He can hear two distinct voices shouting for him, he can’t call back, but as they get closer he knows. His hands loosen their grip just slightly as Scar and Ren touch down next to him. Grian is pulled away from The Rift and he doesn’t fight it. Something deep inside wants him to fight, to claw and scream, and shred but instead Grian’s body is still as he is pulled away.
Grian sees Ren, feels those large, warm hands on his shoulders, an ever grounding presence that wolf is. Grian absent-mindedly wonders if Ren counts as a service dog. The harpy is pulled from his thoughts as his name is shouted in his face, breaking through the cotton unwillingly put in his ears, he strains to hear and show he’s listening. Ren shakes him a touch before he speaks. “Listen man, we know you’re not okay. This is the second time this season you’ve hidden away in your base, you gotta stop trying to handle your mistakes by yourself, it’s tearing you apart! I was so scared in season seven, you looked so sick and hurt, I hate seeing my friends like that! You keep hiding until whatever’s wrong is a big mess and harder to clean up! You make yourself into a martyr, but you’re the one causing the problems! Look, G we love ya, we do, that’s why Scar is here to help as well. Him and Cub should be able to get you out of this, yeah? C’mon big guy, let’s get you out of here,” Grian is lifted onto Ren’s shoulder and his body goes limp as his vision goes dark.
Ren hoists the harpy onto his shoulder, noticing that he’s heavier than when he’s lifted the other before and his heart squeezes as he feels Grian go limp. Scar reassures him before they fly off to Scar’s tree, Ren hopes that the hearth, the heat of the hollowed tree, will help Grian heal.
“So, if I may ask, what is the plan for getting Grian out of this?” Ren tilted his head in curiosity as he followed Scar inside the tree, the comforting warmth wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and settling his nerves, just like he hoped.
“Oh, it’s super simple, If Grian made a deal like we think, there has to be a loophole to get him out and sever the bond, after all, that’s how me and Cub got away from the pillagers.” Scar shrugs casually as he calls for Cub who wanders up from the basement, seeing a passed out Grian in Ren’s arms he sighs, “Okay, what’s up this time?” Cub crosses his arms as he’s filled in on the working hypothesis. Cub’s thought process leaves no trace on his face, but in his posture, it’s clear to see that he’s thinking through as many options as he can possibly conjure.
“Okay, game plan, wait til Grian wakes up, squeeze the information of whatever happened out of him to make sure it’s a deal. If it’s not, he might be out of luck until we figure out whatever it is. Best case is it’s a deal and a poorly worded one with enough loops that if it were a rollercoaster it’d kill a man.” Scar nods as Cub speaks and Ren is left to find somewhere to place Grian while the vexes (? Ren was never really what Scar and Cub were but whatever it was, it made them good at talking, almost as good as him.) Spoke about potential loopholes. Ren gently set Grian down on Scar’s bed, with permission of course. Ren watched Grian’s face minutely scrunch and the muscles in his body twitch, just barely noticeable to even Ren’s watchful gaze. Ren took a deep breath to center himself, catching the faintest hint of cortisol, barely noticeable over all of the oak, glow berries, and spore blossoms but there was enough. Enough that Ren could smell it, enough it made him worry, enough that he hoped Grian would come out the other side of this alright.