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It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon when Grian decided to leave his carefully crafted base for a few hours to socialize for once.
The last few days haven’t been the best to say the least.
Grian was doing way better than when he first joined hermitcraft. He could still remember flinching away from every gesture, holing up in his base for hours, scared of contact, scared of whatever the hermits might have planned for him.
So yes, he was doing way better. He learned to see the hermit’s friendly gestures as exactly this: Friendly gestures.
He learned to accept their support, their caring nature and ask for help if needed. He didn’t shy away from meetings, gatherings and sleepovers.
But somedays he was still feeling those old, half buried feelings of weariness.
These were the days in which he would wake up and immediately notice the feeling of wrongness creeping up his bones.
In which he would just bundle up and blend out everything else but his own, steady breathing and stare at the ceiling in discomfort, ignoring his wings, pleading silently that everyone would stay away.
While Grian had learned to accept the hermits help and trusted them with his whole heart, he still didn’t want them to see him in a state like this where every little and insignificant thing would send him into a spiral of panic and anxiety teaming up on him.
So, his solution for days like these was simple: Do not go out.
Due to the hermits often getting bundled up in their projects, building or crafting it wasn’t unusual for a hermit to disappear from the face of the earth for a few days. And the hermits usually trusted each other to care for themselves if they didn’t reach out.
But now Grian was doing better! He was ready to go out again and not freak out over a slightly off remark.
Snow had fallen over the course of the last few days and covered the lands of boatem with a blanket of white powder. The ground in front of his base was beautifully untouched, giving away Grian’s unwillingness to leave his base the last few days. It glistened under the sun which now decided to peek out from underneath it’s cloudy companions.
The rays tickled Grian’s nose, and he lunged for a sneeze.
Grian hesitated for a second, mourning for the untouched snow before taking a step outside. It was nice to be out again, he didn’t realize how much he had missed the cold, fresh, wintery air which attacked his eyes. Slowly he made his way across the land striding for the boatem pole which created the center piece of their little village. His steps left footprints in the snow, marking the way he paved.
He should’ve gone out earlier, he noted for himself.
His wings were dragging over the snow, a bit of it getting tangled in his feathers. Grian brushed it off for now.
It was oddly silent. Maybe everyone was occupied already, maybe they were doing far more important things but for the person standing in a red sweater, the silence was just right.
His breath came out in white, puffy, clouds of air which were slowly rising to the beautiful, white spanned blue sky, dissolving in the process.
He could visit Mumbo, Grian thought. The mustached man had written him a lot in the past three days. Grian hoped that he could forgive him not answering. So, with a plan in mind, he changed his course and started striding over to the others base
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Standing before Mumbo’s door he questioned if he really made the right decision. While he was certain Mumbo would never turn him away, his knees were still shaking pretty bad, and he didn’t really want to explain anything to Mumbo. So maybe he should just wait it out another day? He was sure that Mumbo would understand, if he postponed meeting up for another day, right?
Right.
Glad that he had decided he turned away from the doorframe of mumbo’s base. His wings ruffled in the cold winter breeze. He needed to preen them, he noticed. Absentmindedly he ran a hand through his feathers.
Just to be immediately hit in the head with the brim of a huge hat.
With a startled yell he stumbled back, falling into Mumbo’s door and covering his head in a protective manner, his arms curling above his eyes.
“Oh no, dude, I’m so sorry”, a familiar voice proclaimed and soon Scar hovered over his field of vision.
Well, that was it with his plans of escaping.
He stood up, ruffling his wings.
“It’s okay”, he sighed.
There was a feather bound the wrong way, Grian noticed. He probably wouldn’t have, but it itched now that he fell on the ground. When he thought about it, it has been a while since his wings had been preened.
He got yanked out of his thoughts by a hand taking his.
Good Times with Scar took his arm and rang Mumbo’s doorbell. For some reason his hand felt… wrong? It was like a weird sensation washing over him. It bristled in an uncomfortable manner.
Suddenly everything felt a bit wrong. Before Grian could pull back the door got opened
"Grian!!!" Mumbo exclaimed "so nice to see you again!"
Grian managed a crooked smile, not quite feeling the happiness the other man spread.
His wings were still itching. His vision was a bit blurry, that wasn't normal, was it?
He didn't even notice Scar dragging him into the house, every sensation was a bit dampened, each sound muffled, like hearing through layers of fabrics, stapled up around him.
His breath went shallow, coming in in between bursts, disturbing the air around him.
Everything felt like underwater and in slow motion.
Until it suddenly didn't anymore. With one flick of an eye everything came crashing down.
It was too loud, too much
Scars gentle touch felt like burning. A soaring hot flame rushing through his bones, inflaming every part of him.
The normally gentle lights of Mumbo's Base only attacked his head, a headache forming.
Grian ripped away his hand from Scars and cowered on the floor. He curled up into fetal position, hands reaching up to his hair and pulling.
He needed to escape this.
He should've stayed at home.
Definitely.
Distantly he was aware of something cold running down his face. Oh, he realized.
It was his tears.
With all the sensations coming back he could feel his wings even more. God, it hurt.
The "slightly wrong" feeling had turned into a lot more than just "slightly wrong" in a very short amount of time. How didn't he notice before? Maybe he was just too numb, Grian reasoned with himself.
He heard some voices, amplified by a lot but still too muffled for Grian to sense the meaning of their words. His eyes were shut closed so he couldn't even see who was speaking.
Then the world went black.
Not literally of course! Someone just used the light switch, and it was dark. But in a good way, Grian liked the dark. It helped him focus, relax and of course: open his eyes.
The world seemed so much calmer without light. There was a comforting loneliness which came with being in the dark. Grian often felt a little bit lonely.
And it was nice knowing that, in the moment, everyone else felt a little bit lonely too. It wasn’t just him.
Darkness felt different with your eyes opened.
If you closed your eyes, you play pretend. You imagine the darkness away; it feels like it is just in your mind. But with open eyes, you embrace the darkness. You welcome it with open arms. Grian liked the dark.
There were still hushed voices, but they were okay now, that Grian senses started calming down. His wings were still incredibly uncomfortable, but at least he could endure the voices now. He let go of the strands of hair he grabbed to escape his senses. Woah, his scalp hurt. On a second glance, this should’ve been obvious, but who even considers consequences? Certainly not him.
The voices faded. “Grian?”, a very familiar, long missed voice whispered. Grian winced. How was he supposed to explain this? It’s not easy to explain things that you, yourself don’t understand. Grian liked to compare it to the ancient days were people just used gods to explain everything. There is a sun? Boom, sun god. People die? Must be the doing of an outer being. People look different? Aphrodite must have her favorites.
He supposed it must have been easy at those times. Grian wished to have these explanations. But this, what he just experienced, this felt like a doing from outer space. Of course, he knew that there must have been a real explanation, but it didn’t feel real. So how was he supposed to explain this?
“Grian”, Mumbo’s voice called out of the darkness again “are you here with me?”
Oh, he must have forgotten about the man awaiting his answer. Too caught up in his metaphorical thinking. “y-yes”, his voice hitched. He should drink something. The red-sweatered man tried to sit up but as soon as he shifted, there were feathers poking into his back. If you don’t understand the feeling, picture a perfectly good scene. Where everything is in order. Like, for example rows of bookshelves, every book fitting perfectly. Or a chain of dominos, falling into each other. Or a dartboard.
And then imagine one book being completely out of order. It could stand upside down, have its back on the wrong side, just missing completely. Imagine the last domino not falling. Imagine them all laying on the ground but the gap to the last one was too big, and it is still standing, it didn’t fall.
But everything else has. Imagine the dart just nearly missing the middle, sticking half a centimeter from it.
Imagine the feeling you have, upon seeing this. And then amplify it by a thousand. Now you are nearing Grian’s experience.
With a small “Ouch”, he laid back down. There were steps nearing him.
Mumbo Jumbo decided to sit down next to him, just avoiding touching him. Grian didn’t know where Scar went, but he was happy about Mumbo’s companionship.
“Where does it hurt”, the mustached man whispered gently.
Grian’s eyelids flattered a few times. He managed a small smile, not that Mumbo would be able to see it.
“My wings are all wrong”, he muttered back. His voice cracked but the important things had been said.
“Oh”, Mumbo answered with a small voice. “Grian, when… when was the last time, you preened them?”
“I don’t remember”, Grian told truthfully, shame visibly in his voice.
“I... I didn’t mean to let them get this bad, really. It’s just, sometimes it is… Sometimes it is too much effort to. And then they end up like this. But it never got this bad before”, he admitted.
“You mean this isn’t the first time something in this direction happened?”, Mumbo asked, a bit of shock swinging in his voice. “Grian, why didn’t you ask us for help? You know, we would have come, don’t you?”
“Didn’t want to bother you”, Grain said. There was a bit of Tapping, presumably on mumbo’s communicator which stopped as soon as those words left Grian’s mouth.
“Oh no, Grian.”, Mumbo’s voice was thick. “Grian, you are never a bother, I promise you! We love being there for you! Grian, may I touch you?”
Grian nodded, forgetting that it was dark, then muttering a small “yes”.
Long arms soon curled around his chest as Mumbo held him. It didn’t burn anymore; it was more of a blistering. But in a nice way. Grian had forgotten how much he missed touch. It felt good to be held.
Mumbo whispered in his ear “I wrote Scar to get Pearl, is that okay? She’s going to help you sort out your wings. And we can talk about preventing this from happening again, okay?” Grian nodded tiredly into his shoulder.
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It didn’t take long for the moth hybrid to arrive, Scar in tow. When she opened the door a small ray of light fell in and it surprised Grian to notice that it didn’t really bother him.
Pearl immediately ran towards him, embracing him caringly, running her fingers through his hair. She didn’t even speak, just started setting Grian into an upwards position, who winced because of the feathers shifting positions.
Pearl gently redirected Mumbo to Grian’s side, instructing him to help the man in the red sweater stay upright. Grian did not complain, he knew this was for the best.
After all this Pearl finally started preening. And wow, if it didn’t feel like heaven.
It felt like this one book finally standing upright, the last domino falling with a clacketing sound and the dart finally hitting the middle like it was supposed to the whole time. Pearl ran her fingers through his wings, straightening each feather in the process, pulling out loose ones. When she finally reached one particularly itching one Grian couldn’t hold back his chirps.
They started blubbering out of his mouth, running like streams of water, indefinitely bettering Grian’s state. He started relaxing in Mumbo’s hold, it didn’t hurt as much as before anymore.
With each feather it was like a huge weight being lifted from his shoulders.
He really should’ve asked for help way sooner.
Soon Pearl started whispering little reassurances into his ear. Grian got drowsy, the feeling of relief overcoming him at the same time of his adrenaline dying down. His breathing went way more regular now. In response he just chirped even more. Mumbo started running a hand over his back, only furthering his comfort.
He didn’t even notice slowly sinking into the blanket which sleep provided, reality slowly escaping his grasp.
Closing his eyes wasn’t even noticeable through the still all surrounding darkness but he was ready now to play pretend.
And Grian fell asleep.
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When he woke up the next time, the first thing he noticed was the warmth. It was warmer than usual. His base always held a certain coldness which he could never really was able to get rid of.
Only when remembering the events of the last day Grian could recall where he was. This was, in fact, not his base, this was Mumbo’s bed. Light fell in through the window. It was nice, he thought to himself. It really was.
There were flowers of frost forming on the window since it was still winter, and cold outside.
Grian went up to the window, noticing that he felt way lighter than the last day. His breath dampened the window glass. With a smile he took his finger and drew a small flower on the milky glass. Flowers were simple to draw. Flowers were simple.
The concept of flowers made Grian happy. They are a beautiful offspring of nature. It seemed like nature has created flowers to beautify the world.
He remembered visiting an old hermitcraft world. Someone had once built a shop which sold flowers. After years of neglecting the world, the flowers had overtaken the building, creeping into every single inch of it, claiming it as their territory.
He would plant flowers in his base, when the season ended, Grian decided.
Maybe he would be able to revisit it years later and witness the same beautiful destruction this other old building had experienced.
He got ripped out of his thoughts by the door opening with a slight creaking. Mumbo carefully spied inside, seemingly happy to see Grian awake. “Grian”, he exclaimed “how are you doing?”. Grian smiled, this time genuine “Way better”, he answered, truthfully.
“Thank you so much”
“Please don’t thank me”, Mumbo answered, “I love being there for you. And I would always drop everything, but still, we need to talk. You have been neglecting yourself Grian”. Grian suddenly felt a great urge to count the tiles on the floor. “I… I am sorry”, he muttered under his breath.
Mumbo took ahold of his hand. “You do not need to apologize”, he insisted. “But we can prevent this, can’t we? I do not want to bother you Grian, but do you think it would help you if I came to check up on you from time to time, if you do not respond? Or Pearl, or scar, if you’d feel more comfortable with it being one of them.”
Grian shied away. “You really don’t need to. I’ll do my best for it to get better as soon as possible”, he promised. “I trust you, but this is my own problem, my fault and I shouldn’t have dragged you into this… situation.”
He looked up, confused to see Mumbo looking sadly at him. “Oh Grian, you don’t need to do it alone. I love being there for you. Scar does as well, so does Pearl. Please let us help you, like you would help us.”
Grian considered the offer. Its not like it would take them this much time, so maybe it would be okay? He’d just make sure to respond to every message and they wouldn’t have to come over to check on him. And besides, it did feel kind of nice to be cared for this way, to know that someone was awaiting to hear from him. So, he nodded hesitantly.
Instantly he knew he made the right decision just by the look on Mumbo’s face. He lightened up, looking so hopeful and relieved.
“Thank you Grian”, Mumbo exhaled. “I’ll message Pearl and Scar to make sure they know. Thank you for letting us care for you”.
Grian smiled up at him. “Thank you for caring”.
So, no, not everything was perfect, not everything was solved. Grian would still try to pull away from affection and offered stretched out hands. He would still try to hole up alone in his cold base, staring at the ceiling for hours.
But for now? For now, the world was good. The bookshelves were in order, the dominos cascaded in the right way and Grian was able to sit with Mumbo in content silence, feeling so unbelievably loved and cared for. His wings light on his back, not dragging any of the heavy weights he did get used to.
And later he would fly to Pearls base and thank her for preening his wings. And then he would search Scar who would apologize for overwhelming him and Grian would reassure him that it was not his fault.
But for now, everything was good.