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Chapter Text

Grian remembered the day he first met Xisuma.

Hell, he didn't even go by Grian back then, but it was the beginning of a new him.

He met the Endborn back when he still worked with the Watchers. Xelqua had been out on an errand, posing as Evo's Admin(which wasn't fake, he actually was Evo's Admin, but his title had gotten a little bit difficult when he became a Watcher) when he bumped into him, literally.

With Xisuma's build and height, it was a surprise to both that Xelqua hadn't been knocked over--which Xelqua supposed came with being a Watcher--but it had been a relief to him, as he was carrying a stack of papers that was sure to go flying all over the place had he fell.

And Xelqua knew that would've been a pain in the ass to deal with.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there! Are you okay?" The man asked. "Uh, I'm fine! Besides, it's just an accident, no harm done, right?" Xelqua put on his biggest smile to attempt to reassure the big man, who seemed convinced enough at his beaming display.

"Again, so sorry about that Mr....?" It took a while for Xelqua to realize what the man wanted. "Oh! I uh, " He drew a blank. "You can call me Grian!" Oh yes, name himself after his childhood nickname, that's exactly what he wanted to be known as(note his sarcasm).

"Grian!" The man pronounced his name a bit strangely, but Xelqua--Grian couldn't complain because he made up the name on the spot. "Sorry about bumping into you Grian, I'm Xisuma by the way!" Xisuma extended his hand for Grian to shake, who eyed it suspiciously before taking it.

Grian almost flinched as a spark of electricity ran up his arm, a faint memory flashing before his eyes.

He sees the happy face of a young boy, purple eyes shining brightly amidst the black void. "C'mon Sauli!"

"Grian, you ok?" Xisuma waved a hand over his face and he snapped back to reality. "I-I'm fine!" Xisuma, unconvinced, raised a brow at that. Curse that stupid ability, by all means, he shouldn't have it, but he had the worst luck of any human Watcher out there, so of course he did. "Alright then, wanna go get some coffee?" Grian almost got whiplash from the complete 180 of Xisuma's mood.

"Huh--What? Why?" He supposed his tone was more offensive than he wanted it to be because Xisuma tensed up and almost froze. "Well, I--um," Grian could almost laugh as Xisuma acted like one of your usual shy anime girls, from the way he was fidgeting and how his face burned bright red.

He felt sorry for the man, he was just being nice and Grian just had to come in and ruin it. Like he always did...

"I figured that I could apologize for bumping into you by buying you coffee? I mean, you don't have to agree, I just randomlybroughtitupandyouareastranger--" Grian held up a hand to stop Xisuma's rambling and smiled. "It's fine Xisuma! I'd love to! Know any good coffee shops nearby?"

And so that's how they ended up here, sitting outside on high stools and drinking coffee.

"Sooo, what server did you say you're from?" Xisuma asked, drawing a circle into the table with his finger as he mindlessly sipped at his beverage. Grian almost flinched but kept his composure, wrapping his fingers around the hot cup to ground himself.

"I'm the admin of Evolution, Evo for short, what about you?" Xisuma perked up at his mention of being an admin, turning to Grian excitedly.

"I'm an Admin too! I run the server of Hermitcraft!" Hermitcraft? Xelqua Grian swore he had heard of it before, but from where? A grin slipped onto his face once the memory hit him.

"I heard you guys are starting Season 6, looking for any new members?" This was his chance, if Xisuma said yes, he had a chance of escaping. Xisuma nodded eagerly. "Yep! I already found some promising ones, but I'm still looking for more! You have any suggestions?" Grian's grin only grew, stretching painfully across his face as he pointed to himself. "You're looking at a guy right here!"

With his eyes closed, he couldn't see the way Xisuma scrutinized him behind his helmet, eyes narrowed as he looked him up and down.

"I'm going to have to do some background checks, but you should be a perfect candidate." A pang of fear struck Grian, but he quickly hid it with a smile. There's no way Xisuma is going to find out about him being a Watcher, they made sure that no one would find out. And besides, even if he did, Xisuma's not going to take back his invitation, right? "Really?" Xisuma nodded.

"You should be getting a message within a week or two, if I decide to invite you, that is." If I decide to invite you, that is. It was almost like a threat to Grian, but Xisuma dodn't know that. Nor would he ever need to.

"Alright then, guess I'll be waiting." Grian downed the rest of his coffee and swiveled his chair to the side to meet Xisuma.

"Tell me more about your server! I'm pretty sure one of my friends is in Hermitcraft."

Chapter Text

Grian loved his wings.

It didn't matter that they came from a past he wished he could forget. He didn't care if they came along with a form he wished he never had. He didn't care that their size made it easier for his tormentors to spot him.

He did not care.

He loved his wings. They allowed him to feel free when he soared through the air with them. The soft feathers were big enough to shroud him when he wept, shielding him from the world when he felt endangered. Their size made it easier for him to glide long distances and to flap less, and the ability to pull in his wings at any given time made it easy to fly through small spaces.

He loved them, so it came to a bit of a shame when he arrived in Hermitcraft without them. He was sad, of course, but it was better that way than to explain how he got his wings if he didn't have them in childhood.

There aren't many ways to explain how someone had wings if they weren't born an avian, and Grian knew that he'd get a headache trying to explain to the Hermits how he can have wings one second but not the other.

Though, a small part of him did wistfully wish that he had his wings. He missed being able to fly all the time and now he had to resort to using elytra. The sharp turns and twists weren't all that easy to do with elytra, but since he had experience with flying before, it came all too easy to him.

This was why he was one of the best flyers in Hermitcraft. This was why no one could ever beat him in a flying game or race. Even the hermits who had wings couldn't out-fly him. After all, he was known to be one of the fastest Watchers out there, and he guessed his speed followed him over to the elytra.

It was a bit of a shame to Grian, not having his wings and knowing that he'd be faster with them than elytra, but he could deal with it. He was lucky that he could pull them out without going into that wretched form, and he was lucky he wasn't yet caught flying with them as he soared over Hermitcraft at night.

Well, Mumbo did almost spot him one time, and Grian had been careful since, but no Hermit had yet to see the glory that were his large, purple wings.

And he supposed no one ever will, which he was slightly saddened by as he would have loved showing them off, but it was easier to hide them than to explain why the other Hermits had never seen them before.

For Grian, it was always easier to hide things than to tell them, it made him forget about his troubles for just a moment when he didn't have other people constantly reminding him.

He knows that hiding some things often brings more trouble than he wanted, but that was okay with him. Grian wasn't good with keeping things a secret for too long, he'd always mess up one way or another, so eventually, the Hermits would know about his secret. But, for as long as he could, he'd keep his secret of being a Watcher a secret.

No one could know about his nightly flights, no one could know about his dark past, no one could know that his dreams were plagued by nightmares, and last of all, no one could know about his wings.

Grian loved his wings.

He loved them dearly.

Chapter Text

He grunted as he hit the dusty ground, his sword laying a few feet away from him while the victor grinned and looked down at him.

"I win again Sal! Rematch?" Xisuma smiled and lent a hand to him. He glared at it and snarled. The audacity. He slapped the hand away, stumbling slightly as he jumped up. "No! You just want to win again!" "I promise to hold back," Xisuma shrugged and grinned, a knowing look in his eyes that Xsaulia did not like. "Double no! You always say that but you never do! You don't play fair 'Suma!"

Xisuma took offense to that as he scoffed and stepped back. "Look who's talking about 'playing fair'! It's not my fault you suck so much that you have to use dirty tricks!" Xsaulia scowled, anger written all over his face as he stepped forward.

"Well, maybe if you held back I wouldn't do that! Ever thought of that genius?" Xisuma seemed to take it into consideration for a moment before shrugging. "You're just weak." Xsaulia gasped and glared at his pale noodle arms. "I'm like, " He counted off on his fingers. "Three years younger than you! Of course I am! You just need to fight on my level!" Xisuma crouched down to Xsaulia's height, a smug grin on his face as he said, "Maybe you need to fight on mine."

Xisuma started to walk and turn away, Xsaulia's short legs no match for Xisuma's long ones. "Hey! Come back here! You can't just walk away! Hey!" Xisuma merely turned his head and smiled as he started to walk faster. "You're older than me! That means you're taller than me and you have to slow down!" "Just like I have to 'fight on your level'?" Xisuma hummed as he saw white hair in the corner of his eye.

"Yeah! You have more experience than I do so it's not fair! I can't fight as well as you!" Xisuma stopped and grinned down at Xsaulia. "Oh? So you admit you suck at sparring? Never thought you'd say that." Xisuma had never seen his brother turn this red before. "H-hey! You can't just turn my words around like that!" "Well, I. Just. Did." Xisuma ruffled Xsaulia's hair as he desperately tried to pry his hand off him, failing miserably.

He growled and pushed Xisuma off him, which wasn't that effective, as Xisuma laughed and put his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm just teasing Sauli! But seriously, you do have to stop playing dirty like that, you know that isn't going to go over well with other people."

Xsaulia crossed his arm and muttered something under his breath, making Xisuma look back at him curiously. "What did you say? I didn't hear you with your mumbling nonsense." The albino glared up at Xisuma but complied nonetheless. "I said, if you start going easy on me, I'll play fair." Xisuma raised a brow. "This stuff again? Fine. But just because I'll be holding back my amazing strength doesn't mean I'll make it easy for you to win, got that?" Xsaulia nodded and Xisuma grinned.

"Now come on, I'm hungry and I really don't want to hear Mom scolding us for missing dinner."

Chapter Text

As it was in the beginning, as it will be in the end.

Flowers bloom and the wind blows. The clouds cry and the worms rejoice. The sun shines and the monsters die.

Life moves on.

Ever so unchanging, time ticks. Unstopping. Immortal.

Forever.

It is forever.

Memories fade and our bodies decay, but time is forever.

But with Immortal beings who age with the song of time, they are unaffected. Years pass, growing taller as the redwoods do, strong and prideful.

They hum to the rhythm, dancing and skipping and leaping and granting others to hear the song.

Songbirds.

They sing, voices rising and lowering to the low hum, chirping with every tick and speaking in every minute in between.

He was used to this rhythm. He's heard it many times before and it wouldn't be his last.

It lulls him to sleep, it wakes him up and rises in volume when he shuts his ears to the song.

His horns vibrate and his magic pulses to the tune, fingers twitching and legs itching to join along.

But he doesn't. He holds back, steps away from the frenzy, and runs into the hall. The song only follows, echoing and bouncing and twisting along his frame and pulls him back to the beat.

He can't escape. But he doesn't seem to mind it much now.

It hides, it shields and bends to his every will.

It surrounds him, the song thundering and whispering in his ears.

He was the loudest singer in the choir, his melodic voice hiding hints of magic and immortality.

They all spoke the same song, they all moved and swayed in tune and he was the one who did it the best.

He was graceful, elegantly placing one foot before the other and twisting and turning and perfecting every move.

Even with how some teased him because of his Watcher Form, they couldn't deny that his body added to the dance.

Three pairs of hands moving in unison, robes swaying and twirling and halos stacked upon each other made him look otherworldly.

Swathed in gold and white, he looked god-like, worthy of bathing in gold and worshippers at his feet. A god of time and power, a name suitable for him and no one else. A deity of patience and kindness, an angel of love and fear.

He moved with time, grew as proud and strong as the redwoods, and resonated with magic and love.

His wings flapped to the same beat, large and beautiful in their glorious size.

His hands clapped along, all six of them as his beautiful footwork did the rest.

He sang and spoke, but he didn't talk, his voice unneeded as his body did the speaking.

Swift and slow movements, a flick of his finger, a step of his foot, even a blink all attributed to making his dance and song beautiful. He moved with Time, dancing in the black void and wasting away his regrets. Time seemed to move much slower here, but the immortal beings didn't seem to mind it much, already used to the thrum and hum of the infinite melody.

Soon enough, tired and bored and afraid, he wished he could go back to the world of passing time, to see day and night fly by as he lay in the moving grass. He wanted to stop, his feet tired and throat sore, body bruised and ruined. It had been so fun in the beginning, even when he was jeered at and taunts were thrown at him like roses, but now it was just repetitive.

Monotone, repeating, boring, dangerous, he wanted it to stop.

He wanted normalcy, he wanted something new, something fun and safe, something different. He initially loved the person he became to be, loved the way he caught on fast to the song and danced with the others, but with time, he soon began to hate who he was, for if the others used to be like him, he would soon become as rude and cruel as them.

The deities tried to stop it, to catch it as early on as they could, but Players were always finicky things, albeit it was only a few that treated him as badly as they did.

But he didn't like it either way, he thought he could handle them but it was false bravado that soon fell away.

He liked the tune, he liked dancing to it, but he was getting tired of it. It did nothing but bring him great misfortune, bringing out a form he soon grew to dislike and a love he hated.

He needed to leave, go somewhere far away, but he didn't know where to.

So, for now, he'll just play along and wait for his moment to escape, Magic well in Tune with the Song as he longed for his Player days.