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He had come to her with his idea, eyes gleaming as he talked. A death game, how typical of him. A chance to let loose and be free, in a world where there were no consequences at the end of the day. She laughed, promising she’d watch from above, distant in the ivory palaces of the Watchers domain. And at first, it was fun, watching her friends muck about below. But it did not stay that way.
He promised her it was just a game. What made it go so wrong?
It was subtle at first. He lured a creeper to blow up near Scar. That was funny, something she should have expected him to do. But it didn’t stop there. He constructed walls of cacti, pits of lava, and she began to worry. This was still all in good fun right? The fighting, the arguing, that couldn’t be real. Her friends, her brother, they wouldn’t hurt each other like that, would they?
She Watched, silent in her nervous anticipation. She watched as he led his friends to harm, creating plan after destructive plan. And as each day passed so did her fear. This wasn’t what her brother was like. He may have a penchant for pranks, even occasional destructive ones but this was too far, even for him.
It wasn’t until she watched him cackle with manic glee as an explosion rocked the ground, echoes of Jimmy’s shouts hanging in the air even as his body dissolved, leaving nothing but a crater filled with the belongings of three, that she was forced to admit that he had changed.
She had Watched him slip slowly, subtly shifting away from the sunshine she knew. And she hadn’t realised it until it was too late, until the sun had set and the man she knew was nothing but a twisted image of before. She held back desperate sobs as she watched still, unable to help yet paralysed by the creeping guilt that she let it get this far. She couldn’t interfere. She could only Watch and in that moment it seemed the worst fate of them all.
There was silence in the dead of night. Her brother sat on the edge of a cliff, staring out across a desert of lava and cactus. His gaze was so distant, eyes glazed over with unshed tears, unseeing even as the landscape presented itself before him. From high above she watched, shaking with the need to go, find him, hug him, tell him that he doesn’t need to worry, she’s got him, he’s safe and she’s here and this twisted world can never hurt him again. But she can’t. She’s trapped in a gilded cage, only able to look on passively.
It burned. Her brother, her sun, her Grian, was hurting and she was powerless to stop it. The Watcher’s stood still around her, perfect, silent statues Watching without care for those below. Not for the first time, she cursed their very existence. What being could be cruel enough to see what was happening, all the pain and suffering, and just stand by. She wanted to fight them, to see how far she could push it until she was cast out of the room, sentenced to cold isolation for daring to feel the emotions she had been born with.
She wouldn’t be able to Watch Grian if she did though.
Grian had allies, some who could even be called friends. He had friends turned enemies and those who cursed his name in the mess that was this frightful game. But he had allies. People who stood by his side as the sun burned bright over that cursed desert. Green stood proudly on his chest, three bright hearts showing his life. He would die today. Pearl could feel it in her bones, a dreadful aching that burrowed its way into her heart. He would fall and blood would be spilled and the desert would become a grave.
She was right. Scott was the first to fall, bright, starry Scott who laughed and sang and danced even as the world around him crumbled. His green turned to yellow, gone to the wind blowing over the sand.
Grian fell next, trapped in a pit of his own making. She shook, using all her strength to stay upright as he reeled backward, struck by an arrow from Martyn, someone he once called a true friend. Grief cried out from the bunker, Scar calling out to his ally in vain.
She had barely processed Grian’s death when it struck again. An arrow, flying true, struck Jimmy, sweet, dear Jimmy, and he collapsed, eyes unseeing as the life drained from his body, red blood spilt as the first truly fell.
He was gone. He was gone and Scar was alone and Grian was alone and Scott… A gasp flew from her mouth at the realisation. He was gone.
She could see his spirit. She could see how he longed to be with Scott, his husband, and how pained he was at leaving him. She looked at the Watchers, a daring question in her eyes. They nodded, almost imperceptibly, and for the first time since this twisted game began she smiled.
Just because she could not interfere with the game, doesn’t mean she can’t take care of the players afterward. She would face the turmoil head-on, do what the Watcher’s would not, and look after her own.
Grian was still below, yellow softly glowing on his chest now. He would be fine if she left for a while, surely. She gave a passing glance once more, before turning to the void, and the thin wisp of Jimmy’s spirit. This life was not kind, so what came after must be so.
It felt like an eternity before she returned, a safe haven nestled safely in a pocket of her domain, waiting for the others to come home.
It became routine. She would guide those who lost to this world, where they could rest. It soothed her a little, knowing that even though she cannot reach them down there, they were safe here.
Then the final day dawned. An inescapable tang of blood flooded the world, overwhelmed her as one by one they fell, and she couldn’t keep up.
The souls were left to wander the now desolate plain, until there were merely three left alive. Bdubs, a man of grief and mangled loyalties, Scar, who twisted words to his advantage to stay alive against all odds, and Grian. Grian, her sun, who lost himself in the game and found comfort in explosions and death, in traps that blew craters into the ground and turned a desert to shattered glass.
Her Grian, who was turned on by the man he swore his life to, who turned red with betrayal in his eyes. Who stalked his prey seething with silent anger, lunging from the trees with a blood-curdling cry. Grian, who found himself caught between what he knew and what had happened, who chose to take Scar’s hand as Bdubs lay cold where Scar struck him down.
Who stood now atop the sand-covered hill, shards of glass crunching beneath his feet. Pearl held her breath as he faced down his oldest ally, the two alone egged on by the ghosts as they demanded the game see a winner.
She flinched with each hit that connected, Watching horrified as they fought, punches landing on bruised skin. Desperation filled Grian's eyes, and as he whispered fervent apologies the light faded from Scar's eyes, body stilling on the bloodstained sand.
Grian broke. He sobbed and screamed, wings that were once missing bursting out behind him as he staggered slowly to the edge of the cliff. Pearl reached out, a futile attempt to comfort him. She Watches, arm outstretched, as he jumps, tears streaming down her face.
She Watches him fall, bright wings hanging useless, unused. A gut-wrenching scream was torn from her as she watched her sun set over that bloodied hill, echoing out into the void as she fell to her knees in grief.
He promised it was just a game. He lied.