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Everyone had their wishes in the Life Games. All of them had something that they wanted more than anything. More than living. More than winning.
They all had wishes that sung through their souls and kept them driven. From the very start to the very end.
“I wish I could have saved him,” Pearl whispered her wish aloud as she stared into the flames of the ritual fire turned camp fire.
Ren didn’t need to ask who. He knew.
It had come as no surprise when they had learned who Pearl’s soulmate was. It felt tragically poetic in a way that spoke to Ren’s soul.
In a way that made him slightly envious now. That Pearl had been given a soulmate who despite their estrangement, everyone knew truly loved her. Everyone knew Scott only went along with Cleo because he felt his love and loyalty had been betrayed.
Ren knew what that felt like now.
So many of them, like Pearl, had been given a soulmate that fit.
No, he didn't need to ask who.
“From what?” He asked instead as he poked at the burning logs with a stick.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think it’s something I can’t remember. Maybe… maybe it’s the reason I’m here at all. Why I showed up later than everyone else. I can’t help but think that maybe I was trying to save him.”
“Maybe,” Ren agreed. “We still don’t know what we all need to be saved from though.”
“I think a couple of us do,” Pearl said, casting a quick glance in the direction of Martyn’s sleeping form.
“Probably,” Ren sighed. He never wanted to admit it. What he knew deep down. That it was more likely than they knew that they had traitors among them. Members of the games who knew what was really going on. How they got here, why they were here, and what was at work behind the scenes.
He didn’t like thinking about it too hard.
It hurt.
“I wish I could have saved him from the curse,” Pearl whispered. “You, me, Cleo… we tried. We tried to save him. I should have saved him. I should have made him save himself.”
Ren felt an exhaustion settle over him.
It was always so tiring to think of the old games. But for a moment, he allowed himself to remember. A time when he had been alone in that tower, all but waiting to die. Then the three of them had shown up and cured that loneliness. The fort felt like a home again. Felt safe again as they reinforced its walls and defenses, as he was promised safety from the reds who wanted their pain more than their deaths.
He remembered the fear, when Scott had gotten cursed again. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. He remembered their desperation to save the little home they had made, and the flood of sorrow and guilt when they failed.
He remembered running through the woods. Seeing Pearl first and knowing that despite how much he hated it, he had to kill that home they had made. There were only four of them. There was no other choice.
He remembered thinking distantly how funny it was. That among the last four were him and Martyn. How in another life, he had wanted nothing more than for this to be the outcome. For him and Martyn to emerge from the bloodshed together and if the forces demanded it, to die together as well.
But then, Martyn wasn’t his to win with anymore. They had already learned that in this game, in the end, even alliances had to be broken. He had wished he, Scott and Pearl could win together, their home kept intact though it was missing one crucial member.
In the end they had all been monsters possessed, and as he faced off with one of his best friends for that final time, he wondered if he resented them for not saving him. He knew he didn’t, but for a moment he had wondered. He wondered if he, himself, resented Scott for killing Martyn so quickly despite the fact that in that world, Martyn hadn’t been his.
He couldn’t quite remember what either of them were thinking in those final moments. He didn’t think it was anything truly relevant, if he was honest. It was probably just a tangled mess of the need for survival, despite knowing winning would bring them nothing but suffering.
”I don’t think it would have changed anything,” Ren finally said, flinching at the grimness in his tone. “Or… I guess it would. If he weren’t already red when you killed me, I don’t think Joel and Grian would have shown me mercy. I’m pretty sure Scott and I turning on them when you joined us is the only reason we didn’t die sooner.”
”You’re right,” Pearl said. Her eyes wandered in the flames, and her voice shook just a bit when she spoke again. “I know it’s not true. But when it first happened, I was so afraid that the reason Scott didn’t want to be my soulmate was because he resented me for not saving him. From the curse. From winning. From everything.”
”If he resented you for that, then Cleo wouldn’t be allowed to stick around him either,” Ren pointed out.
”I know but…”
”But?”
Pear shrugged, “I feel like I’m different. We’re different, Scott and I. I was supposed to save him in a way that you and Cleo weren’t.”
Pearl took a deep breath and shook her head, “I don't want to talk about this anymore. I don’t like talking about him.”
”Okay,” Ren nodded. “What do you want to talk about?”
”Well, I said my wish, didn’t I? Tell me yours,” Pearl said.
Ren hesitated for a long moment, reflecting.
Pearl really didn’t know how lucky she was to have gotten the soulmate she did. Neither did the others. They didn’t know what it was like to know exactly who it should have been and still end up off the mark.
He searched for that singing in his soul. That wish that he carried just as everyone else did.
It wasn’t hard to find, and when he did he held it close. Like a small match caught in storm that he had to shelter.
Wishes were so quick to be tarnished in these games.
He let his eyes trail again to Martyn. Then back to the fire.
”I wish I was someone he would be happy to come home to,” Ren said, voice soft. “I wish he would come back home.”
”BigB?” Pearl asked.
”Yeah,” Ren lied. “BigB.”
Pearl scooted a little closer, squeezing his arm, “I’m sure he’ll come around Ren. He knows you love him.”
”I hope so,” Ren offered her a weak smile.