Chapter Text
Pride had always been his fatal flaw. He had seen it in the war, he had seen it before, and he had seen it after. It was in his decisions, his confidence, how he talked and how he acted like he was so far above. It was in the pedestal he put himself on because he always thought that he could handle it, and it was in the bloodstained scarf in his hands.
If he tried very hard, he could almost disconnect himself from the fact that the blood flowing out of the fabric and down the river was his brother’s the same way he could almost disconnect himself from the pain. The world passed around him in a haze, like nothing was real and yet everything was too much. He scrubbed at the fabric, ignoring how raw his fingers felt while doing so.
“Hey, captain.”
He hadn’t even heard Twilight’s footsteps coming to a stop next to him. Warriors didn’t even look up. “How can I help you, rancher?”
Twilight was silent for a few moments. Then, he sighed. “I just… didn’t think you should be alone right now.”
“I’ll be alright.”
“Now, that’s not what I asked and you know it.”
Warriors couldn’t respond. He heard Twilight kneel down next to him, staring into the flowing water in front of them. The silence between them was heavy and suffocating, but there was nothing that Warriors could say that would alleviate the feeling, and he was certain that Twilight felt the exact same way.
“It ain’t your fault.”
Warriors sighed. “Rancher-”
“It ain’t,” Twilight said again, firmer this time. “You’ve been distancing yourself, you ain’t been eatin’ and you- you haven’t even cried, captain.”
“Rancher,” Warriors tried to be gentle. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not. You don’t have to be about this. It’s okay.”
But he did. Twilight didn’t see that.
If Warriors fell apart, so would everyone else. If Warriors allowed himself to fracture, then it would spread, and then what? They were already one hero down, it would do them no good to fall apart like this.
Even so, the words that came out of his mouth surprised even him.
“It’s my fault,” he said, so quiet that he thought Twilight had missed them over the river’s gentle flow.
“No,” Twilight said, resolute. “No. Ain’t nobody’s fault but the monsters who- who did this.”
“He’s my responsibility,” Warriors said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I was with him. I should have been able to do something.”
“You can’t plan for everythin’ in life. You can’t blame yourself for this.”
Warriors scrubbed at the scarf harder, and then a hand stopped him. He inhaled slowly.
“Rancher.”
“Captain, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”
Twilight was right. His hands stung and felt red and raw, but the pain in his hands didn’t bother him. “It’s not clean yet.”
“You’ve been washin’ it for hours. It’s clean. If you scrub at it anymore, you’re gon’ rip it.”
The idea of ruining it stopped him. It may have been stained with the blood of a brother, but it was something Wind loved to duck under. So many times, Warriors had found himself with a small hero at his side, with the scarf around his neck or over his head or wrapped around him like a blanket. No, he couldn’t destroy it.
He sighed, taking it out of the water and folding it neatly to his side. The sun would dry it soon enough - it had been beating down on them for the past few days, and Warriors had to wonder if the goddesses were mocking them by allowing them to have such good weather. While the rest of the world was celebrating the end of the rainy season with their young playing outside and their harvests thriving, the heroes were still mourning the loss of one of their own, and that fact just seemed so unfair. The rest of the world was still moving, unaware of everything that they were feeling, that he was feeling, and that felt so disturbingly wrong.
He felt a hand land on his back, firm yet caring and a grounding force amidst the chaos in his mind, and he became vaguely aware of the tears running down his face, splashing on his hands which rested in his lap.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Captain…”
“No, you don’t understand. He wasn’t supposed to die, he-” Suddenly, the captain’s throat felt hollow, empty and yet choking him at the same time as everything that had been running through his veins for the past few days jolted through the rest of his body like lightning, the pain in his chest expanding like a disease and tearing him open as he spilled everything to Twilight - the war, the two heroes he knew, the pirate that always seemed to know more than he let on - spilling everything that Wind would never get to learn.
At the end, when he was done talking, Twilight just couldn’t find the words to say. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had been able to, anyway, because how could Warriors ever have heard him over the war waging his mind?