Chapter Text
The island is full of trees, covered in growing green grass and little spreads of flowers. Even deep in the forest, one can hear the sound of the ocean nearby, birds flying high overhead. The leaves of trees are bright and a colorful green as they create a backdrop for the two soldiers, their sandaled feet stepping in grass below. They leave an occasional imprint behind, although the grass will soon return to its original state, pointed up toward the sky.
As it turns out, the island is fairly empty, leaving Scar to assume that the only source of life truly is whatever the source of that light happens to be. They have to be prepared for anything. They’re surrounded by nothing but trees and the salty waters of the ocean, coming and going with each tide. There’s surprisingly far more trees than he originally expected to see, all with thick barks and long branches with lively leaves attached to them, swaying with a careful breeze.
It’s peaceful. Quiet. The air is calm and light, yet brittle from heat.
Scar doesn’t speak much as he and Mumbo traverse through the wild, pushing branches out of their way. He leads, and Mumbo follows after him, their armor shifting with a noise proceeding each step. Scar keeps his eyes focused, straight ahead, carrying his bow in his free hand. His quiver is strapped to his back, but it feels heavier than the last time he carried it. When did that weight get there? Scar doesn’t remember his quiver feeling so heavy, as if someone had piled a bunch of rocks inside it along with the arrows.
His grip on his bow tightens with each step they take as Scar waits for something to happen. That fire unnerved him, and now just he and Mumbo are walking into the unknown with no backup, no plan. He strains his ears for sounds of any kind, footsteps, branches or bushes being rustled. He stays guarded the entire time, not willing to be taken by surprise.
It’s his responsibility to get both himself and Mumbo back to the ship in one piece; one that Scar does not take easily. The weight of life sits firmly on his shoulders, both as captain and king.
There’s too many unknown variables that threaten that life: a mysterious fire, their dwindling food supplies, the journey home. Scar was able to keep all six hundred men under his command alive during the war, but can he continue to guide them all?
“Mate, are you alright?” Mumbo sets a hand on Scar’s shoulder as he breaks the otherwise easy silence that had been sitting between them.
Scar looks back at him, caught off guard and pulled far from his thoughts. “What?”
Mumbo drops his hand, letting it hang at his side with an inquisitive gaze. “Well uh, you seem worked up? Really tense and everything.” His eyes are gentle yet knowing as he looks at Scar. Mumbo is among the very few that know Scar well, considering they’ve practically grown up together. The man knows quite a few of Scar’s tells, though not nearly as much as Grian knows (it’s like Grian reads into his very soul sometimes). “Do you… want to talk about it?”
Unfortunately for Mumbo, Scar can’t allow himself to dwell on anything except for the task at hand. He’s a pro at burying his emotions and unnecessary feelings down in his chest, burying them deep under the surface of his heart. He sees no need to unearth them right now. Scar leans back into his facade, slipping into the comfortable porcelain that rests over his face as the face of a fearless leader appears. His lips curl with a smile of his own, saccharine sweet and laced with reassurance. “I’m fine, Mumbo.”
Mumbo merely lifts a brow in return, one that spells out his skepticism. “Is that why you’re seconds away from snapping your bow with that tight grip?” he challenges, and Scar blinks.
“Am I?” He glances down at the weapon in his hand, finding that he is in fact squeezing the life out of the wood. “Oh! Whoops.” Scar loosens his grip slightly, at least enough so that the bow isn’t at risk of breaking.
When he looks back at Mumbo, he finds the other watching him with a silent I told you so. “Thank you for proving my point.” His lips curl in a cheeky and satisfied smile.
Lacking any real heat, Scar rolls his eyes at Mumbo’s response, picking their pace up once again. He hears Mumbo’s footfalls trailing behind him as he leads them through the thick forest. Beams of sunlight cut through the trees around them, the humidity leaving Scar sweating under his armor. He lets out a quiet sigh.
“Seriously though, if something’s weighing on you, talk to me,” Mumbo tries once again, ever persistent. “Or—or Cub—anyone, really.” He walks beside Scar this time, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. “You don’t have to always be our strong and fearless leader.” He knocks his elbow into Scar playfully.
“Somebody has to be,” Scar returns, matter of factly.
Pausing in his walk once more, Mumbo forces Scar to stop, frowning at him. “You can’t live like that,” he protests. “I know you’re tired of fighting and the bloodshed, Scar. I see how you hold that bow, how you’re always ready to strike. Would Grian want you to live that way?”
Scar winces at the mention of his husband, pointedly looking away from Mumbo. Perhaps it’s a bit of a low blow, forcing Scar to listen by bringing up Grian, but it certainly works. He can almost hear Grian scolding him for not looking after himself better, for not taking a proper break. He doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t know what to say.
“You know, you can put some trust in people and lower your guard a bit,” Mumbo hums, his voice growing softer as he regards him. “And now’s the perfect time to do it.”
“Mumbo, I really—”
“Come on, live a little, bud!” Mumbo shoves him from behind with an exasperated noise. “Life is so much better when you lead with open arms.”
The unexpected shove causes Scar to stumble a bit, stepping on the ground a bit harder than necessary to keep himself from falling. Yet the other isn’t quite done, continuing to push Scar through the forest. Bits of sunlight pass over their heads each time there’s a break in the leaves above them, leaving Scar’s head feeling warm from the exposure.
He’s not quite sure where Mumbo is trying to lead him, but they’re certainly walking somewhere. He has half a mind to give Mumbo a difficult time, maybe dig his heels into the ground below and push back against him. The man may be (surprisingly) strong, but he’s no match for Scar. It’d be easy for Scar to overpower him if he so chose to. Yet he doesn’t, simply because he doesn’t want to. He’s… curious to see where this goes at the very least.
They move through the greenery, forcing Scar to knock any stray branches away from his face. He hears Mumbo squawk as one of them whacks him, presumably, in the head. Scar can’t help but crack a smile at the sound.
“Does greeting the world with open arms include the trees too?” he teases, earning a huff from Mumbo.
Scar feels the hands on his back release him, making him turn around. “Go on, take the mick out of me,” Mumbo grumbles with teasing disapproval, as Scar has the delight of seeing the man’s hair a bit messed up from the branch.
He laughs lightly, “Sorry, sorry, I’ll let you continue.” He motions for Mumbo to go on with his hands, a mischievous curl to his lips.
Mumbo shakes his head with a light sigh, lifting a hand to fix the bits of his hair that’s been knocked astray. “As I was saying,” he coughs into his hand, moving to walk at Scar’s side rather than push him forward. The air turns somber, growing heavy with weight like a cloud filling up with water, being pulled down low.
The sudden switch leaves Scar glancing in his direction with concern. “Mumbo?” he asks.
“We’ll be alright, Scar,” his best friend begins, keeping his eyes focused on purely what’s in front of him. He looks ahead, gaze shortening as his lips dip low, “Whatever we end up facing on our way home, I know we’ll be okay.”
“You sound pretty confident there,” Scar returns. Something tugs at his stomach, a foreboding feeling sinking into his skin like teeth. It leaves him taking a sharp look around at the trees that watch them, brows furrowing. They’re alone in this forest, not another soul to hear them. Yet Scar feels like someone is watching them, chills running along his back. It’s like there are eyes following them, but Scar can’t figure out where they’re coming from.
Mumbo doesn’t seem to catch onto his sudden tension, walking with ease. “Of course I am,” he replies, “you’re the one leading us back.”
Scar goes to answer him, taking in a breath.
There’s some sort of whisper that reaches Scar’s ears, one that causes him to come to a sharp stop. His eyes narrow as he looks around, seeing nothing but the tall trees and the growing nature they’ve been traveling through. Beside him, Mumbo stills, sending him an inquisitive look.
“I heard something,” Scar murmurs to him, gaze shifting to the left.
He hears that whispering noise again, causing him to draw an arrow from the quiver on his back. Is it an ambush? But from who? Could it be from whoever was the source of that fire? That would make sense, but how would they know where Scar and Mumbo are? This forest is so thick that it feels near impossible to see through it, especially from a distance.
At first he only hears the noise from the left of him, somewhere beyond the bushes. The longer they stand there, however, the whispers begin to increase both in frequency and sound, until Scar can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from. He whips his head around to try and find it, but to no avail. He and Mumbo end up standing back to back, breathing still.
Something brushes against Scar’s leg, causing him to look down. He’s greeted by some… gray fuzzy looking thing. It’s eyes are a glowing purple, and it has two fluffy ears that almost look like a cat’s. It stands on two legs, smiling up at him. “Welcome!” it greets in a high pitched voice.
“Welcome!” Voices echo the first creature’s greeting, once more coming from all sides of them. Scar’s head snaps up as he and Mumbo step closer together, and he finds similar creatures to the one by him. They’re completely surrounded.
Setting the arrow against his bow, Scar wastes no time in pointing it at the creature in front of him. “Stay back!” he exclaims, taking a step back.
“Stay back…” the creatures echo, stepping away from him.
“Mate, hang on a sec!” Mumbo says, moving to stand beside him. “They might be able to help us.”
Scar turns to look at his friend like he’s lost his mind, incredulity flashing in his expression. “Seriously?” he questions in complete disbelief. “Look at them, Mumbo! They’re all small and tiny with creepy glowing eyes! How do they look helpful to you?”
Mumbo only smiles in answer, “Try to see the good, remember?”
Lips dipping in a frown, Scar looks away from him to face the strange fuzzy creatures once more. He hasn’t lowered his bow, not yet. “We’re only here for food,” he says.
“Food!” they echo once again.
Slowly, Scar nods in answer, “Six hundred of my men are waiting for us to get back safely.”
“Food!” The creatures approach him once more, ears twitching as they tilt their heads. Honestly it’d be kind of cute if they weren’t so creepy looking. They almost remind him of Jellie. Almost. But Jellie is much cuter than any of them, and she’s not a potential threat to his life.
“Stay back, that’s a warning!” Scar exclaims again, sensing Mumbo’s disapproving stare. They shrink back as he points his arrow at them, eyes narrowed in threat. “My men happen to have quite the fancy for fire… so I suggest you don’t try any funny business.”
One of the fluffy creatures, the one who had been right next to Scar before, walks up to him. It pushes a basket filled with lavender colored fruit toward him. The fruit looks like a grape, except much larger than the size of the sort of grapes they grow back in Hermitopia. “Here you go,” it offers, smiling invitingly. Some of it’s friends push out baskets filled with the same fruit as well, echoing the first one.
Lowering his bow, Scar slowly sets the arrow back in the quiver on his back. He keeps his eyes focused on the small creatures for a moment, suspicion holding him back. The creatures simply blink up at him with their glowing eyes, happy smiles on their faces. They don’t appear to mean any harm, but Scar is still hesitant. Not taking his eyes off of them, Scar cautiously steps toward the basket before slowly leaning down and taking one of the fruits. Holding it in his palm, he stares down at it, feeling the smooth exterior of the fruit’s skin.
Scar frowns softly as he looks at the strange fruit. He brushes his thumb over the round end of it, brows knitting together with confusion.
“See? When you trust in good intentions everything works out.” Mumbo nudges him lightly, and when Scar looks up at him he finds dark eyes light and pleased. Mumbo walks over to one of the baskets, kneeling down on the ground. “This should keep us going for a bit!” He picks up a few of the fruits in the basket, turning them around in his hands as his expression is open in awe. “Although, uh, we might have to get creative… I doubt the others will want to eat just fruit for months.” He makes a curious noise, as if he’s examining a particularly tricky project. “I wonder what Cub can come up with…”
As Mumbo speaks, Scar continues to look at the fruit in his hands, deep in thought. He feels like he’s seen this fruit before somewhere. It looks familiar, but how does Scar know it? Maybe a better look at it will tell him what he needs to know. Taking the fruit, Scar holds either side of it before breaking it in half. The fruit splits with relative ease, some of the juice spilling on his hands, making Scar grimace.
The inside of the fruit is somewhat reminiscent of the innards of a pomegranate, lined with seeds and juice. However, the most peculiar thing about the fruit is the fact that the seeds are glowing. “What?” Scar grabs one of the glowing seeds, holding it up to his face to get a closer look at it. He squints at the seed, the fruit’s name lying just on the tip of his tongue.
He turns it around a few times before dropping the seed in his palm. He cups his hands around it, seeing the purple glow that illuminates in the artificial darkness he makes. He brings it up to his eye once more, ignoring how his fingers start to feel sticky. He frowns, “Where have I seen this before?”
Beside him, Mumbo continues to ramble, the small creatures gathered around them watching him with cherub-like curiosity.
From the corner of his eye, Scar sees one of the creatures sneak a fruit from the basket. He lowers his hands as he watches it, the fluffy thing taking a bite out of it. To his surprise, the creature’s eyes glow a dark purple, and a dazed expression falls over it’s face, smiling dreamily as it sits back on the ground. Scar’s stare widens some, and it all clicks into place as he recalls exactly what this fruit is.
Scar frowns lightly, unable to keep himself from feeling disappointment. Dropping the fruit back into the basket, he stands from his kneeling position, wiping his hands off on his clothes.
Mumbo is standing when he looks at him, a basket in his arms. “Gosh, we’re gonna need all the help we can get bringing these back to the ship–”
“I wish I could agree with you Mumbo,” Scar begins, walking over to his friend. Mumbo looks up from the basket in his hands, peering at Scar with a raised brow. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it at first but–see the glowing seeds?” He holds one half of the fruit in front of Mumbo, “It’s a lotus fruit. One bite of it and it’s over.”
“What?! Goodness gracious!” Mumbo’s eyes widen as he hurriedly drops the basket, head whipping to look at Scar, “What do you mean by over?!”
Scar blinks at him. “Y’know, like mind control?” he answers. “Lotus fruit controls your mind and you’re kinda just stuck that way forever.”
“Scar!” Mumbo cries, tone scolding as he whacks him. “Goodness, start with that next time, will you?! You made it sound like we’d die!”
“Same thing, isn’t it?” Scar lifts a brow as the other shakes his head with an exasperated sound.
Mumbo pinches the bridge of his nose, disbelief rolling off him in giant waves. It hardly phases Scar, already quite used to it. “Never mind that,” his friend sighs, turning to look at the creatures in front of them. He kneels down to their level, coughing into his fist. “Uhm, lotus eaters?” he tries, gaining their attention with ease. “I’d like to prove to my friend here that kindness is brave. Would you happen to know where we could find uh… food that won’t control our minds?”
The lotus eaters look amongst themselves, whispering. Scar watches, tense and ready for whatever might happen next. They could really be pushing their luck here…
“A cave!”
Mumbo perks up at their answer, turning back to look at Scar with a bright smile. “You hear that? There’s a cave we can scavenge!” As Scar slowly nods, Mumbo addresses the creatures again, “Tell me, where should we go to find it?”
“East.”
“Thank you!” Mumbo pushes himself back up to his feet, expression seeming pleased.
“Welcome!”
To Scar’s (slight) amazement, the lotus eaters around them begin to disperse, leaving the two men alone. The baskets of lotus fruit are left behind, and Scar finds himself swiping one. Who knows, it might come in handy down the line. It never hurts to be prepared. Lotus fruit safely tucked away, Scar looks at Mumbo, sighing. “Alright, alright, get your bragging out now,” he teases, already knowing what the other is going to say.
Mumbo huffs a soft laugh, “What, that mercy might get you a little further than a pointy weapon? Thank you, I think I will brag a bit.” He smiles cheekily, causing Scar to playfully roll his eyes. That smile dims slightly after a moment, as concern melts into his expression. He looks crestfallen, mournful, concerning Scar.
“Mumbo?” he probes, confused. “You didn’t accidentally eat one of those fruits while I wasn’t looking, did you?”
“Ah, no, it’s nothing like that.” Mumbo shakes his head, meeting Scar’s gaze. “I just… erm, I didn’t want to say anything earlier with the others but I’m a little worried about you.”
“Worried?” Scar echoes, turning to face him fully. “I’m perfectly fi–”
“Don’t—” Mumbo interrupts, cutting him off, “don’t… say you’re fine. No one could be after…” He stops, voice lapsing into something silent as his face pinches. “It’s been written all over your face since we set sail, mate.”
Scar feels his throat go dry as images flash in his head of that night, arms suddenly feeling heavy. It’s as if there’s a phantom weight of an infant, swaddled in a bright blue blanket sitting right in his arms. He turns his head away at the reminder of the blood staining his hands, lightly shaking out one of his arms to rid himself of the feeling. He doesn’t acknowledge it, finding it might be a little easier than admitting it, then pulling the newly added skeleton out of the closet so soon. It’s easier to keep it buried.
“Mumbo…”
Neither of them speak, standing in the forest’s clearing. The sun shines down on them, its rays warming their heads. The air squeezes around them, tense and taut that Scar could shoot right through with an arrow. “I know your guilt is heavy, certainly heavier than I could ever imagine,” Mumbo says after a moment, “but… maybe you could start to ease it with an open mind. Light up the world a little bit.”
“An open mind, huh?” Scar murmurs, glancing down at his hands.
“Have you forgotten the lessons I’ve taught you?” a voice echoes in the clearing, one that calls only to Scar and Scar alone.
He freezes, head shooting up as he looks around the trees. The scenery around him rapidly morphs and changes, shifting into a landscape of dark, midnight blues, surrounded by constellations in the sky. Mumbo disappears from sight, leaving just Scar standing on his own. In most cases, perhaps he would’ve panicked. But he knows who it is that has spoken to him, where he has appeared. His thoughts have been sped up, leaving him in this space.
“Athena!” he calls out to her, looking around.
The goddess appears before him, standing tall and mighty. Her blue eyes are stern as she looks at Scar, brown hair spilling freely from under her helmet, the lighter tips resting against her front. A golden chestplate shines brightly as it sits over the long pure white dress she wears, holding a spear in one hand and a shield in the other. She’s an intimidating figure, fitting for the Goddess of Wisdom, imposing and strong. She stands with nothing but confidence and strength, her will steady and resolute.
“Didn’t I tell you to turn off your heart, Scar?” his mentor inquires, lifting a brow as she regards him. “This isn’t you.”
Scar looks at her, unsure of how to reply. A part of him can’t help but feel frustrated, listening to her speak so candidly, almost scolding him. Has she not seen what he’s been through? What the other gods have made him do? How can he so cruelly block out his emotions in the face of a child’s end? By his very own hands.
“Have you forgotten?” Athena questions, “Your purpose, my life mission…” She taps the end of her spear against the dark ground, creating little ripples of light that swim across their feet. He looks down at it, moving his foot back a step. The darkness shifts and changes as more and more ripples appear, giving way to moving scenery underneath. “Let me remind you.”
The floor gives out from below him, and Scar falls. He lets out a startled cry as he feels his body plummet low, arms flailing at his sides. Athena falls beside him, seemingly unbothered as she glances at him, amusement twinkling in her eyes. She turns away as Scar regains his balance quickly enough, directing her gaze ahead. The scenery shifts around them, green seeping into the dark space until it overtakes the apparent night sky like paint dripping into water before it’s swirled. It leaves behind a forest, one from years ago.
“As the Goddess of Wisdom, there’s only one goal I’ve had in mind from the very beginning,” Athena stretches out her hand, gesturing to the forest that they’ve been set in. Beside her, a boar speeds right past the bushes and brambles, charging straight ahead. Scar watches it as it’s hooves dig into the ground. “I wanted to create the greatest warrior among men.”
He knows where this story leads.
“I had a magic boar, one that only the most skilled could hope to kill. It was the perfect test of courage and strength,” Athena hums, “but strength wasn’t the only thing I was looking for.”
Just across from the boar, a sort of rustling noise came, stealing Scar’s attention away from his mentor. He focuses on the pair of bushes before them, watching the way the tiny branches shake and wriggle from outside force, being moved. Athena doesn’t seem bothered by his change in attention, her attention also being taken by the bush. There’s a knowing smile on her face as a familiar head of brown hair pops out from behind the greenery, a sword in hand.
“Just when I thought no one would take up my challenge… in came a boy, one with a mind that very well rivaled the boar’s will itself.”
Together the two of them watch as a much younger Scar, around the age of thirteen, approaches the boar, a wild grin on his face. His lips curl with thrill, eyes shining in a twist of excitement and mischief. “This is the boar that’s giving everyone a problem?” young Scar laughs, standing in front of the magic animal. “He looks like a harmless little fella!” As if taking offense, the boar charges for the boy, determined to prove him wrong.
Scar winces as he watches the boar knocks into his younger self right to the ground.
He knew it was coming, yet it still causes him to cringe, glancing away to spare himself the embarrassment. Beside him, Athena quietly laughs, clearly sharing a very different view on what was perhaps one of Scar’s most embarrassing moments of his life (next to asking for Grian’s hand in marriage).
“I wondered if he’d follow me, and I could teach him,” the goddess at his side muses idly, her tone light and near whimsical. She sounds as if she’s contemplating a particularly difficult problem, or perhaps wondering about the relative mundane. “He’d change the world with the skills I could give him, and have the answers to any problem put in front of him. A warrior of the mind, I’d say.”
When he looks back, his younger self stands victorious over the boar, having beaten it. Even now he remembers how he did it quite well, managing to outwit the animal and overpower it. There was a burst of pride in his chest back then, and he can feel the way his heart swells in his chest once more, looking at the boy before him. He finds himself wondering if Peder will accomplish the same–if he already has and Scar wasn’t around to see it.
Young Scar lifts his head up, taking a subtle glance around the forest. His frowns faintly, the slightest dent with his lips as his body stiffens. He doesn’t raise his sword, but he does maintain a firm grip on it.
“Show yourself,” he speaks, wary, “I know you’re watching me…” Scar sees it now, the way his younger self’s mouth twitches slightly, an idea having come to mind. He was quite sharp at that age–some might argue that he’s lost that edge, that sharpness. Scar says he’s only refined it, made it easier to cut people with it. “I can see you.”
In front of the boy, Athena appears. She’s near identical to the goddess of the present day, hair just the slightest bit shorter than it currently is. She holds her spear tightly in her hand, eyeing the human boy with a raised brow. “How did you see through my spell?”
The frown on young Scar’s face doesn’t last long, being overtaken by a prideful smile as he puffs his chest out. “I was just lying! I didn’t think that’d actually work!” he laughs, cheerful and bright as he directs a smug little grin at her. “You fell for my bluff~.”
Athena, for her part, stares at the boy with something akin to befuddlement, as if surprised that a mortal child could pull one over on her so easily. And for a goddess, perhaps that was something she found surprising then. Not many humans are as cunning or sly, not in the way that Scar is, at least. She lets his laughter echo in the air for a moment or two before her lips quirk up in an impressed smile, humming. “I certainly did, well done,” she says, earnestly. Her eyes light up with curiosity after, “What’s your name, eh?”
Young Scar crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his chin up. “You tell me yours first. Maybe I’ll give you mine after.”
“Nice try, little one,” Athena chuckles in her amusement, “but two can play at this game, I’m afraid.”
The boy only drops his shoulders in slight disappointment, arms falling to his sides. “Oh alright, alright. You don’t need to be so modest though, I already know who you are!” he exclaims, shaking his head. “Hype yourself up a little bit, you’re Athena! Goddess of Wisdom, a badass in the arena, you’re practically unmatched!”
“Oh?” the goddess hums, and she passes him a curious look. “Well someone’s been keeping up with the gods,” she teases him before nodding to herself. “Alright, you’ve impressed me human. I’d like to offer you a mentorship. You were the only one who could defeat my boar, after all.”
“Really?! Oh gosh, I’d be honored!” the boy gasps, taken aback by her offer. “This could be the start of a fruitful friendship between goddess and man!”
Athena only huffs with slight amusement, stepping closer to him. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there.”
“Okay…”
The last thing Scar sees is his younger self offering Athena a bright, excited grin. He had no idea what he had been signing himself up for, agreeing to learn under the goddess’ wing, but he doesn’t have the slightest hint of regret. Still, that doesn’t ease the burden, the weight, the sits with him now. The forest is wiped away, their background returning to nothingness and the stars underneath their feet. Scar turns to look at his mentor once more, meeting her stern gaze.
“I still intend to follow through on my promise,” Athena tells him, her voice firm. It carries no hint of anything light in it. “You’re a warrior, Scar, remember that.”
Scar doesn’t get a chance to reply to her, not as the ground begins to collapse under his feet once again. His stomach is pulled up as his body tips over, a helpless victim to gravity once more. He falls and falls, the stars growing further out of his reach all the while. Faintly, he hears the faint sound of something ticking echoing around him.
“Don’t disappoint me.”