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Chapter Text

"I'm not like most other dryads...   Okay, that's a terrible way to start this story." Martyn buried his face in his hands as the others snickered, instantly breaking the immersion of the four sitting before him.

"I'm not like other girls," Joel mocked, in a purposefully idiotic voice that sounded nothing like a girl or Martyn. Martyn shot him a glare as he made a motion for him to shut up.

"Stop laughing. It's true! For some reason, instead of attaching my life force to a tree or a plant or anything a normal dryad would, I attached my life force to a bird. A parrot, specifically- me and my brothers grew up in the jungle, so they were the most frequent birds around. One day me and my little brother were going through the forest and he saw a parrot. He said he wondered what it would be like to be a bird. I told him, 'let's find out' and when I next gained consciousness, I was looking down on him from where the parrot was originally perched.

Somehow, I had attached myself to a bird. And now I... was a bird? I didn't understand it then, and to be quite honest, I still don't now. I clumsily fell down from the tree, pretty much smacking myself into every branch on the way, but luckily my brother had the sense to figure out what had happened. He held me, a tiny little bird in his quivering hands, and the reality of the situation struck me. I was stuck in that form for a while. Whenever we got home to the circle, our other brother would question where I was. G- uh, my brother- told him that I'd gotten lost in the forest but I'd find my way back soon. We didn't tell him, because he was... young. He didn't understand, and we didn't either. I didn't want to a parrot forever, and neither did we want him to be.

My disappearance made rounds quickly, so the rest of the clan were looking through every tree, leaf, bug in the forest to find me. All the while, G would sit beside a tree with me and try and teach me how to talk. I felt like a baby all over again. The roles were completely reversed. 

Then, he didn't really want to teach me how to fly, but ever since I'd become a parrot I'd had the urge to do so. So he clambered up a tree and held me, allowing me to spread my wings to the sun. I stepped off his hands then before I was really sure what I was doing. I had that sickening, plummeting sensation in my stomach as I fell towards the Earth- but I realised quickly that if I was going to hit the Earth, I would've done so already. I was not falling- I was flying. Well, gliding. We would work on properly flying later.

The final step was to figure out how to turn me back into a human, and shockingly, I was able to figure out the basics of being a parrot all in under a month. After a while, once my family was sure they'd checked every tree in the jungle, I was deemed missing. I had obviously never openly attached my life force to anything, so they believed I had simply died where no one could see me and disintegrated, as dryads tend to do when they are attached to nothing. G always felt so bad about not being able to tell anyone, especially when our brother would cry and cry about it for days on end. I tried my best to comfort him, and I hope he did find some comfort in me.

Even though I was finally getting used to my bird form, when it came up on a month of my disappearance and the clan was getting as silent as ever, I broke off from G and flew away. Above the trees, through the canopy and right out of the jungle. As I flew farther and farther away from our clan, and closer to the edge of the jungle, I felt the flap of my wings getting weaker. I could've chalked this up to not having flown for this long before, but deep inside I knew that was not what was happening. I made it out of the jungle and came to rest on the ground by a tree.

When I awoke, I was a parrot no more. I found myself stumbling as I walked back to the edge of the jungle, hoping another dryad would be awake to lead me home. I found myself regretting this whole idea and wanting to be a parrot again. And so I was. I stayed for a moment, parrot form, flapping in the air. Then as I willed it, I was human again. It was easy as that. I tested switching betwen the two of them for a while, before I went back into my parrot form and returned to the clan.

Upon my return, I perched on a tree, looking down at my friends and family. G's eyes were red-rimmed from the crying he had surely done whenever he realised I was no longer there when he had awoken that morning. He was clutching our brothers hand, so tightly I was sure that the tears forming in his eyes were not from the pain of losing me but from G's hold. I saw everyone mourning me and flittered down from the tree. There, I returned to my human form. Unused to my voice, it took a moment before I could call out to them. But I was able to, and they all rejoiced for my return. G stared and stared as if he couldn't believe I was real.

What had once been a memorial for me was turned into a celebration of my life. Throughout the night, G was quiet- I remember wondering if he thought that the parrot had never been me, that something else terrible had happened. Thankfully I was able to pull him aside and show him the easy switch I could do between forms. We never told anyone else in the clan about any of this- at first, we'd been worried that the short lifespans of parrots compared to trees, but... well, even though I haven't got evidence that I will die far sooner than the rest of my kin, I'm not bothered.

G attached his life force to a parrot too, after a while. He was able to get a hang of the basics of transforming so there was no big thing, and he always adored flying. I preferred using my skills as a parrot for less... recreational things. I'd mimick the sounds of creepers, skeletons, spiders. Usually the victim of my pranks would be the other brother I'd mentioned, but I managed to get G a few times. Oh, and the whole flying outside of the forest draining my energy thing? I might've lied. It technically was fatigue from flying so long, but it was also that throughout the flight I had been so dearly wishing that I could be my normal self that my body was telling me to transform whilst not being used to it and knowing it wasn't safe.

I can transform between my normal self and a parrot now easily. See?" Martyn did a demonstration, flickering between the parrot form that the people of Dogwarts had become so used to seeing around, and his typical... well, he'd referred to it as a human form, but it wasn't really. He had sort-of green eyeshadowy stuff, pointed ears and too-bright eyes. Regardless, it was the easiest way to describe it.

All four of the people watching blinked at him in unison.

"So it's you that's been taking my cookies?!" BigB asked, sounding scandalised, s a buzzing discussion broke out about Martyn had been the parrot terrorising them this whole time.

Chapter Text

Joel had never been so exhilarated in his life.

Clinging to Etho's arm and laughing breathlessly, he could've been led anywhere. He trusted Etho enough to take him somewhere safe, so as he was suddenly moved and forced to sit down, he did it easily. He was still wheezing with laughter as a heavy hand settled on his back and Etho's voice cut through it all: "Calm down," His voice, however calm and steady, was tinged with amusement, "Is that your first run doing this kinda thing?"

Joel raised a hand as he tried to calm his laughter. It took a few more seconds until it worked, but he responded soon enough, out of breath still: "Yes. Ren never lets me do that kind of thing. His face, Etho! His face!" He dissolved back into a fit of endless giggles again.

The 'thing' in question was Etho and Joel's attempted destruction of the Crastle. It was a relatively new structure, a supposed castle to rival Dogwarts. Judging from the size of it, Joel personally didn't think it was much of a match. He had never thought Dogwarts was the best, but it was at least better than that. The residents were a married couple named Cleo and Bdubs- probably not his real name, but Joel didn't care enough to dig into it.

Etho had originally asked for his help because he happened to be in the area. He was sat atop a hill, underneath which he had secretly constructed a lab of dead bushes (though Etho wasn't to know that, no one was) and where he tended to spend a lot of his time. One day, whenever he left Dogwarts to be on his own, he was planning to build a house there. A pretty cottage and a bed for two. But for now, there was no such house to destroy, and thus the hill could be used for disaster.

It was a missile, scarily easy to construct if you had the right resources- though he supposed redstone was a rarity these days. They'd built it and Joel had watched in breathless wonder as it inched towards the Crastle. He'd seen Bdubs and Cleo run out, Bdubs screaming in Etho's direction.

He didn't know why Etho did it, though. In hindsight, he was kind of curious. He settled himself, tilting his head up to look at Etho as the man was still stood up, and asked: "Why did we do that, anyway?" He realised only belatedly that Etho had pulled the mask down to chug a water bottle, and he stared for a moment. Etho stared back, finishing his drink in a few gulps and then offering the remnants to Joel.

He took it and gulped it down as it he was dying of dehydration. Exhiliaration tended to do that, though of course he'd never felt it in this kind of intensity before. To his surprise, Etho didn't pull the mask back up- he simply sat down beside Joel, on a raised part of land. "You know," Etho began, and Joel got the impression that he was definitely not about to tell him the answer to the question, "the thing I like the most about you is that you don't ask questions,"

That felt awfully targeted, and his heart sunk suddenly. "Sorry," He mumbled, face burning. Etho looked at him pitifully, eyebrows furrowed, as if he didn't understand that what he said would've caused such a quick switch in his mood.

He seemed to twig it after a moment, "That- that's not what I meant," Etho attempted to rectify quickly, "I mean... I can tell you. I didn't really register what you said. It's just that when I asked if you wanted to fire a missile at the Crastle, you didn't miss a beat before you agreed. It's- cute, kind of. Stupid, though," Etho leant back, "No wonder you need me around to protect you all the time."

Joel hit him, "Shut up. I don't need you all the time. Besides, if I had asked you to blow up the Hobbits, you'd've agreed without a second thought," Etho shrugged, as if he had no rebuttal to that - because it was very much true, Joel thought proudly - and leant back on the grass. There was silence for a moment before Joel prompted, "Are you gonna tell me, then?" 

There was a hum but the silence prolonged. Joel decided to simply mirror Etho's movement- lie back down on the glass. Cover his eyes to shield them from the sun. Now would be a great time for those sunglasses Ren gave him- though he wasn't sure the intention for sunglasses was to stare into the sun with them on. Etho finally began to spoke, just as Joel came down from his exhilaration high, "It's just a long story, really."

"Tell me the short story and I'll decide whether I wanna hear the whole thing or not," Joel suggested.

"I didn't offer to tell you the short version," Even without looking, Joel could tell that Etho was smiling. He was amused, as he often was by Joel's words. That was what Joel liked the most about Etho, probably. The fact he actually seemed to find him funny. "But sure. Me and Bdubs have a history- me and Cleo, less so. But we all have known each other for a while, I guess," He seemed to reminisce, himself. This didn't seem like a story he'd told much, Joel noted. "We met when we were kids, and well... things spiralled from there. If this is supposed to be the short story, the short of it is that I fell in love with Bdubs and Bdubs fell in love with me. But he... married Cleo."

Joel blinked. He tried to take in the words for a moment, but it seemed like they were blocked from entering his brain. Etho- in love? He'd long ago stopped picturing Etho as this emotionless doll, after seeing that he couldn't order drinks from a tavern he was drinking at or seeing him eat an apple whole. But how could Etho have been in love when he hadn't?

...He supposed that was the wrong way to look at it. Really, he wasn't sure why he felt that way. It was a sudden feeling. He should've been interested, but the idea of learning more about Etho's love life- the idea of finding out why he had fallen in love with Bdubs- made his skin crawl. No, he'd rather keep it reserved to an idea- one so ludicrous it couldn't possibly he true.

He forced himself to keep his voice even, "I don't wanna hear some- tragic love story. I can imagine it from that. It all makes sense from that," He pushed his palms into the ground and sat up. Etho mirrored the action for reasons Joel didn't realise. "...I can imagine it."

Etho didn't answer. Joel watched as his hands scrabbled for a weapon, happening upon his danger. A fleeting thought ran through his head that he had heard something he was not supposed to- but it was quietly silenced as Etho stood up, reaching his hand down to pull Joel up. "What?" Joel whispered, pulling himself up with Etho's gloved hand as it was drawn away from him to pull his mask back up.

It was only then he noticed the person running towards them. Despite his horrible eyesight, he could make it who it was fairly quickly- only one person had such a striking hair colour. It was Scott, a childhood friend of Joel's... one of the Hobbits. They weren't on great terms anymore. Joel made a mental note of where his own weapon was so that he could pull it out if it need be.

"Joel!" Scott called, and he sounded- panicked. Some sort of thing anyway. As he neared, running faster than Joel had ever seen anyone run. "Dogwarts- come- quick." Every red alarm in Joel's head blared. This was a trap if he had ever seen one. Etho put his hand on his shoulder protectively, and not for the first time, Joel wished he wasn't the kind of person who needed another person to seem threatening.

"What's happened?" Joel asked, deciding to hear Scott out. He couldn't remember if Scott was a good actor or not, but as he stood meters away, he could see the tears forming in the blue-haired mans eyes. He could make out tear tracks, still fresh. His heart sunk, "Is it- Jimmy?"

Scott said nothing. He only nodded. Joel could think of countless possibilities of what had happened- Jimmy wasn't particularly a friend to Dogwarts, but he never had ill intent towards any of them. However, he'd have been shot instantly if he had tried to trespass over the walls or something along those lines. Scott turned to take off again, and Joel decided he would try and emulate what Etho had told him earlier- don't ask questions.

And so he didn't. He shrugged Etho's hand off his shoulder, mumbled something along the lines of 'We have to go' and followed along with Scott. They weren't running, really, moreso walking fast. There was no conversation. Scott's breaths were heavy, Joel's heart was pounding, and Etho followed along with him like a shadow.

Joel didn't even have to stand before Dogwarts to see the destruction. As they rounded the corner, he could see a huge crater. His eyes widened- how had Jimmy gotten caught in that? It wasn't like him to come to Dogwarts without sending a letter first, unless... no. There was no way that he could've done something like that.

Right?

As would be expected with a crater of that size, there were several guards and soldiers milling around the destruction. There were beds laid out that Joel recognised from medical rooms. They were covered with white tarps. Jimmy, he thought, Jimmy could be under one of those. That was when he started running. He heard Scott call after him, but all he needed was the assurance of Etho's quiet steps following after him.

He tried to make out the faces of the guards as he approached, but none of them were people who he recognised. Regardless, the closest one called out to him as he passed, "Your Highness!" His head whipped towards the sound, "Please do not get any closer. Go around the side of the wall, to the back entrance- The Hand must see you," The unfamiliar mans eyes flittered to Etho, "Accompany him. Do not let him out of your site. Do not touch anything out of the ordinary."

Etho made a noise that told Joel a whole story- he'd been a knight for how long, now? A lifetime longer than the other knight before him, it sounded like. Yet the seriousness of the mans voice struck close to home to them both, and so they were off like a bullet yet again. There was nothing of note between that interaction and when they made it around the back of Dogwarts. There were noises from inside the walls.

Knight and prince looked at each other, a shared look of- confusion. One that they weren't sure that they should act upon. They approached the back wall, and out flew the Hand of The King.

"Where have you been?" Martyn cried, sounding like an overworried parent. He threw his arms around Joel, pulling him close and squeezing him as hard as he could. "God- good god- I was so worried. I was worried you might've been in the middle of it all, that they-" His voice became incoherent after a while. Etho stood to the side as people followed Martyn out. Other guards. Joel watched them come out- no sign of the King.

"Was there an attack?" He tried to ask, attempting to wiggle out of Martyn's grasp, but he was only squeezed tighter. "Martyn. Please tell me what happened- Scott told me-" There was a gasp, another sob. Finally, he was allowed the freedom from the hug as Martyn furiously rubbed at his eyes.

"...An attack, yes." He choked, "Ren- Skizz. Jimmy! He was right there, he... we could've stopped it..." Joel stared at the mess before him. Martyn was a cool, sarcastic person. The names he'd listed- the King, the Kings most efficient knight... and someone who Joel didn't even realise Martyn knew? He looked helplessly towards the other knights who had followed Martyn out. They were now engaged in deep conversation with Etho, who had stiffened.

"Please," Joel begged again, "Tell me what happened."

Martyn caught his breath finally, "The escapees- Grian, Scar- they set a trap for us. We figured out it was a trap. We evacuated citizens... or we were trying to. Jimmy- he tried to disarm the bomb," Then, quieter: "The idiot." He sounded like he was trying to curse Jimmy's name. Joel didn't blame him. He felt a sinking feeling, and he was very faint all of a sudden. He barely heard Martyn as he said, "Ren and Skizz were right there as  it blew up- they should've been dead on impact. They- they're all in care, but..." Martyn looked at him, blue eyes stained with tears. "They aren't going to make it. It'll be a miracle of any of them do."

Joel made a noise. He was trying to speak and nothing was coming out. He felt dizzy. He wanted to move and yet he couldn't. He wanted to run but he was rooted in place.

"Joel," Martyn said, quietly, "You are going to be King."

He collapsed to the ground, black swirling his vision. There was a cry as he fell and the last thing he felt were familiar hands upon him before he was out cold.

Joel dreamt of nothing. He'd love to say he dreamt the spirits of three people he loved and cared for dearly came to visit in his dreams, but there was nothing but an endless black void. He wasn't far off saying he was dead until light flashed in his eyes and there was a murmuring that quickly turned into coherent sentences.

"...ne. I believe it was just a bout of unconsciousness from the shock of all the news piling upon him at once." A womans voice, one he did not recognise. He groaned and he could almost hear everyone snap their heads towards him.

"Turn it off," He mumbled, trying to pull his eyes open, but the blindingness of the light stopped him. "Turn it off- the light-" Instantly, a hand covered his eyes- which was not what he asked for, but it blocked out the light well enough, so he wasn't complaining. Instantly, memories of what Martyn had said before he passed out flooded him- really, he couldn't have been out for long, but he tried to believe it was all a bad dream.

That was until Martyn spoke, "I'm sorry," His voice was quiet, calm. Nothing like the hysterics outside of back entrance, "I shouldn't have dumped it all on you. I..." Martyn sniffled, and then went completely silent. The hand covering his eyes didn't move, and he tried to figure out who he was in all his blindness. For a fleeting, stupid second, he thought it might be Ren.

A voice in his head taunted him, It's not Ren. It can't be Ren, because Ren is dead and you didn't even say goodbye to him this morning. Ren is dead and you were out breaking the rules he set for you as he died.

He knew it was Etho, then, so he mumbled out the knights name as a kind of... confirmation. He got Etho's signature hum in response, and whilst there was also a sense of calmness that came with the fact that despite his swirling head and the blinding light he couldn't stop seeing, he couldn't shake the feeling of needing to run.

Run, flee, escape. From what? From everything. The danger being a prince- being a King put you in. He felt like a child still, playing with his brothers sceptre and being told it wasn't for little kids.

Now that brother was gone, and in his place was an empty throne. An empty throne he is destined to take.

So why is the only thought plaguing his mind run? 

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since the attack. The citizens who were injured were all in hospital, but most had awoken and would be allowed to leave after a quick final checkup. Of course, three had not awoken - the three that were in the midst of the attack.

The King, Ren. The Head Knight, Skizz. And his own brother, Jimmy.

He'd passed through the ward where they all lie several times. Tubes connected to them that he couldn't even begin to understand, masks covering their face. They all had steady heartbeats most of the time, but every time Martyn sat in there he waited for the simultaneous beep of all of their hearts stopping at once. It was clear they were going to die, so why was he being taunted by the universe by prolonging their suffering?

He'd have half a mind to tell the medical staff to stop working on them. As Ren's right hand man, the most powerful man in Dogwarts beside Ren and Joel themselves, they'd have to listen.

But a voice called to him every time he got the urge. This was not their time- they were not destined to die yet. And sure- Jimmy had escaped death several times before. It chased him like a wolf hunting its prey, and when he'd saw the broken and crumpled body of his brother fly through the air from the distance, he was sure it had finally caught up with him. But apparently, it hadn't.

Everyone else seemed to have the same mindset as him. Joel was already grieving, partly for the people he would lose and partly for the loss of his freedom. Etho had been a sparse appearance around the kingdom ever since the day of the attack, and whenever Martyn would see him, he would disappear into the shadows. BigB, a close friend of all that had been attacked, had not once answered his door since the news got to him.

That didn't mean Martyn wasn't going to stop trying to reach out to the man. BigB had been his friend for a long time- whenever he had left the jungle he grew up in, alongside his brothers, BigB had been apart of the group of friends they stumbled in. Of course, most of these friends are now gone- dead or haunted or simply missing. Martyn didn't think about them often, but the thought plagued him now as he approached BigB's house for the third time. He wasn't expecting an answer when he knocked on the door, but to his surprise, there was noise.

A voice, and another in return. The scuffling of chairs and then the soft footfalls of someone walking towards the door. Martyn felt hope rise in his chest, but it was suddenly replaced by horrifying fear as he came face to face with a smiling blonde man.

"Hello, Martyn," Grian greeted, pleasantly, as if he was not standing in the house of a man who was grieving people he had killed. Martyn was frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from his brothers face- had his eyes always been so purple?- until he saw another face appear in his peripheral. BigB. He was fine. He was safe.

"Grian," He managed to choke, the emotions he'd been suppressing since he'd overloaded Joel with them on the day threatening to make themselves known. But if there was anyone he needed to look strong in front of, it was Grian. "What are you doing here?" 

Grian made a face, before stepping back as if he were allowing Martyn entry into a house that was not his, "Come on in," He rolled his eyes after a moment, as if Martyn was useless. "I'm not going to hurt you. God! You'd think I'd've killed his whole family, or something." Martyn's mouth hung open at that. He had killed his whole family, basically- Grian was no longer someone who he would willingly call a brother, and so Jimmy was the only one left.

BigB wasn't laughing or smiling. His eyes begged a silent plea for Martyn to come in. After playing with his options, he stepped quickly into the house and past Grian. Looking around, there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary... except for Grian himself. There was no sign of his partner, though, but Martyn did not allow himself to relax. Only fools thought that Grian's partner was the mastermind between the two of them.

"Sit!" Grian commanded, again acting as if it was his house. BigB did so, and Martyn watched in silence as Grian flounced over, settling himself in a chair. There were three, settled around an empty table. It was almost as if this moment was planned- scripted. Martyn felt his legs move before he was even really asking them to, and he sat down. He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry.

Thankfully, Grian seemed willing to talk enough for the three of them.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here, Martyn- and you too, B. Honestly, it was a bit rude of me to just barge in... but aren't you glad? Look at those circles under his eyes, Martyn, honestly. We know what B's like when it comes to losing people, and blaming himself. Remember Tom?" The name slid over them hauntingly, and Martyn suddenly found the floor very interesting.

Grian laughed, "Of course you remember Tom. And Netty, and Zee, and Salem, and Mini." Martyn winced at every name he said. All people who they'd all loved, all people who they'd lost. His mind lingered on Netty for a moment, picturing her face, before he forced his attention back to Grian, "And now good old Tim is going to join then, ey?" His voice dropped as he continued to speak, "We both know that's not right."

"Of course it's right," BigB blustered, though he looked surprised at his own words, "You killed him, you set up a trap for him and-"

Grian crossed his arms, "It wasn't for him! He wasn't supposed to be there! Since when does Timmy hang around Dogwarts, ey? No. It was supposed to just be for Ren. Skizz, I was lucky with. You, Martyn? I knew you wouldn't be dumb enough to touch it," A shiver ran down Martyn's spine, but Grian's words were hypnotising. It was almost as if the second he had sat down, his mind agreed with every word that the blonde said. 

He was unable to focus on the fact that Grian said he was only trying to kill Ren. Maybe this was because this didn't surprise him at all. Grian was never happy when he was, as of late.

The room lapsed into silence, which seemed very intentional from Grian. He reached over and grabbed a cookie from the cookie jar on the table and hummed appreciatively as he took a bite. Martyn saw that there were a lot more cookies than there usually were- BigB was a stress-baker, that made sense. Glancing over to the kitchen area, he would see that there were more dirty dishes than BigB knew what to do with. He decided to save him the dignity and not look.

"Tim isn't going to die," Grian finally broke the silence. It took a moment for Martyn to register what he was saying, and despite the ludicrosy of the statement, he didn't argue. "Sadly, neither is Ren or Skizz. They'll be fine- well, permanent injuries, permanent scars. But they'll be alive. And thank the Gods for that!" Grian raised his arms in a fake, mocking rejoicing pose. Then he met Martyn's eyes. "Or maybe we don't want to thank the Gods,"

Silence. Martyn has never liked silence, but it's worse when you so desperately want to talk. BigB was noiselessly fidgeting in his chair and Grian was strangely still, staring still right at him. Suddenly, he pushed the chair he was sat in back.

"I reckon I'm done here," Grian flourished, brightly, with the nerve to do a little spin on his foot as he approached the door. "Scar's off doing his own thing- you know, bothering the sweet little prince. Joelpunzel, Joelpunzel, let down your hair- gods, the way he talks about Joel sometimes you'd think he'd want him on our team," The way Grian spoke was... confusing, to say the least, but for some reason it washed over Martyn as if nothing he was saying was... concerning. 

Or wrong.

When it so clearly was.

It so clearly wasn't his brother speaking from the body before him. Something- someone- had caused this change in Grian. Magic wasn't unheard of, and Scar was just sparking with it.

After waiting for a moment by the door, as if he had been waiting for an answer, Grian shrugged and raised his hand in a kind of salute, "Bye, fellas!" In a quick movement, he was in an out of the door.

The atmosphere changed instantly. Martyn could've suffocated from the tension in the air. He looked at BigB and huge, black pupils stared back at him. "You felt that, right?" BigB choked, "You felt that... hold. He had on us,"

Martyn shuddered, trying to regain his voice. "...I don't think it was him," He voiced, after a moment, and the admission sounds useless even to him. Denying that it is Grian isn't going to change anything about the fact that its the same boy he'd lived and thrived next to his entire life. "There was something wrong with that whole situation. It wasn't Grian, but a..."

"Twisted version of him?" BigB guessed, and Martyn nodded. There was a brief silence, before both of them realised that neither of them wanted the room to lapse into the horrible silence. "We can only hope that whatever he is now knows stuff we don't, then!" He was trying to sound cheerful and failing miserably.

He launched into something else, an entirely different branch of conversation, and Martyn did the steps of average conversation. Answer back, seem interested, ask questions. But they both knew that the conversation was only to fill the silence.

The silence that wasn't really silence at all.

Chapter Text

Dare to Flare had no real goal. Sure, there's the promise of the best enchantments in the lands, from only the most talented villagers... Joel knew that he could've got the same kind of thing simply from sweet talking one of the hosts. Impulse was kind enough- they didn't know each other beyond a few interactions, but Joel had formulated the opinion that would bend over backwards to please others.

He was fairly accurate in this assessment, he was sure, as he watched the man in question fret over a competitor before him. The other host of Dare to Flare, Tango, was watching him with a look that could kill.

Joel had wondered, on his way to the little rocky hut in the middle of a swamp, what Tango aimed to get out of the whole situation. He got no gain out of people surviving the dangerous- and quite frankly unfair- game other than watching people suffer. But seeing the flicker between a normal, if not strangely tall, man and some sort of monster when Tango's guard was down... well, it became quickly clear to him.

The first rule of Dare to Flare was that once you've signed up, you're doing it. Joel wasn't worried about this condition. He was quite happy to do it. The person sat beside him, though? They didn't seem to share this opinion.

They were masculine, looking to be around the same age as Joel. He had different coloured eyes, one blue-ish purple and the other brown-ish red. If he looked into them deeply enough, he was sure he'd be able to see a mirage of colours- but he wasn't bothered. The main thing that caught his attention about the boy was the fact that he was shaking, despite the intense heat of the room from the lava just metres before them, barely blocked by a wall.

"Oi," He bumped his shoulder into the blonde, "You alright?" Never let it be said that Joel was an unpleasant person to be around- he was clearly stunning, both in looks and personality. Going out of his way to try and comfort this poor boy!

The blonde looked up at him as if they thought he was going to push them into the lava. His eyes were sort of teary and a thought struck Joel that he might've shoved his leg all the way into the deep end without even testing the waters. "No. I don't know why I signed up for this, I-... I wanted to impress him, but now I'm going to home dead or stupid-looking." He spoke as if he thought Joel was aware of all of these issues, which he clearly wasn't.

Glancing at the line, they had several people waiting before them. Sure, Joel though, I can get this kids whole life story. "Slow down," He told the other male, patiently, "Start from the beginning. Whats your name?"

This question alone seemed to stump him. Joel thought about whether this could be a lost cause before he mumbled, "Jimmy." Ah, a completely normal name that Joel didn't recognise at all. "Jimmy Major,"

...Oh.

Looking him over, this almost certainly wasn't a relative of Scott. As far as he recalled, Scott had a twin when he was young, but Joel had never met him and he had seemingly passed before him and Scott were ever close enough for him to get the chance. This boy was certainly not this twin. Scott was a natural brunette, and had a round face. This boy was blonde, dirty blonde if you will, and an angular face. Joel liked to think he didn't spend too much time analysing peoples faces, but unfortunately such is a way of his life.

He shook himself back to reality and realised what a weirdo he must look staring poor Jimmy down like this. Nonetheless, he continued to scrutinise the man before him- a more distant relative, perhaps? Not related at all? Surely Major was a name outside of Scott's family.

The most likely thought came to him like a bullet on a train: a husband.

He knew Scott was gay, of course. You'd have to be all kinds of fucked-up to not notice, really. But Joel was the kind of selfish person to think that once he and Scott had split (in a metaphorical way- they never were dating, of course) that he would never get another friend, let alone a partner. But as the puzzle made itself clear to him, this was the only obvious solution. And so he asked, "Are you... do you know Scott? Major?"

Jimmy laughed, though it sounded more like he was clearing his throat. "Yeah, he's my husband. Well? Kinda. It's complicated. Not- legally, or anything. Really, my name is just... James. But I like Jimmy Major more, ya know?" He tried for a smile. If not for the fact that his leg was still shaking more than he would on a freezing day, it would be surprisingly convincing.

The brunette nodded after a moment. He understood that. He'd have changed his name long ago if it didn't take so much effort- but it did, so he didn't. He looked again to the line of people entering Dare to Flare, and wondered if the walls were soundproof. For what he knew lie beyond those walls, there was a surprising lack of reaction from the contestants. "You'll be going up soon," Joel mused, "Couple more people,"

Jimmy's leg quickened its pace, tapping the ground furiously. "Okay," Was the response, an obvious attempt at keeping his voice level failed as there was a crack. He seemed to give up this facade, looking away from Joel. "I said... I said I don't know why I did this. Well, I do. People always say I'm dumb, and..."

"You're not really proving anything by being here, then." Joel answered before he could stop himself. Jimmy stared at him, eyes wet with tears that Joel told himself were already forming before he’d said anything. He didn't take back his word, and Jimmy made no effort to speak. He turned his head away and focused on the jittering of his leg. "...You're impressing me," He tried, finally. Jimmy's head snapped back. "It's impressive, I mean. That you haven't ran out screaming even though you want to. Even if you don't make it- if you don't get the prize- I'll get you something. Yeah?"

"I would take you up on that offer!" A new voice said, the grin obvious in their tone. Joel turned to look and not a few metres away from them stood the host of Dare to Flare- one Tango Tek. For some reason, the mere proximity of himself to the man made him... anxious. He forced himself to calm down and rolled his eyes. "Aww, not offering it to me? That's okay. And don't be so unsure of yourself," He crouched down before Jimmy, "I'm sure you'll do just great. Just think of the medical bills- that'll put you off from stumbling,"

Tango cackled like he'd told the funniest joke in the world.

Jimmy didn't seem to think so. "Aren't you supposed to be moderating the game?" He asked, and both Joel and Tango kindly ignored the cracks in his voice.

"Impy can do it just fine," Tango smiled, and his teeth were sharp. Too sharp. Joel made a note of this- he was definitely a hybrid of some kind. And not a canine, or any sort of feline, noticeably. Some sort of... well, to put it plainly, monster. "Also, just had to kick out the group before you 'cause they were under eighteen. I might be a ‘greedy business owner’, but I have morals. And if I'm right, you two are the last contestants of the day. Figured I'd kick back a bit before you go in, right?"

He left the question open, but neither Joel nor Jimmy answered. Tango rolled his eyes and muttered something like 'tough crowd', but he didn't change his position or leave. He remained crouched in front of Jimmy until he finally found another thing to say: "If you don't get the prize, I'll take you out," It's definitely a weird offer. Jimmy goes red, and Tango grins at the implications that are clearly running through both of their heads.

Joel doesn't appreciate being a third wheel, especially to some married man (one who is married to an old friend of his who, despite their friendship becoming strained in the recent months, he didn't want to see heartbroken) and a monster, so he interrupted it with: "And me?" Tango's eyes flittered to him and then looked him over. A highly offensive look of annoyance crossed over his face and he gestured noncommittally to where Impulse must be.

"I'm sure he'll get you something," Joel rolled his eyes. He didn't especially want something from Impulse, but he never appreciated being left out. Tango didn't say anything else, so Joel watched his foot scrape against the floor and waited for Jimmy to speak, though it seemed like he was still recovering from being flirted with, "You look familiar," Tango said after thirty seconds of silence.

Joel looked up and, sure enough, Tango was speaking to him. He looked Tango over and shrugged, "I get around, I guess." He didn't say the most reasonable explanation for his face being familiar - which was, of course, the fact that is the Prince of Dogwarts - and added: "I think I'd remember if I saw you around,"

Tango grinned, seeming to take it as a compliment despite Joel not particularly intending it to be that way. Jimmy opened his mouth to finally say something when another voice called out: "Tango!" To no one's surprise, it was Impulse, finished with the person who went before Jimmy. Once Jimmy was done, then Joel would. Tango stood up and Joel copied him, belatedly offering a hand to Jimmy, who was shaking even harder.

"Looks like it's almost your time, boys!" Tango walked ahead with that too-sharp grin, not even sparing a glance to Jimmy. Joel, once Jimmy was on his feet, gave the blond a supportive pat on the back. They both followed after him as he continued to speak, "and I'll stick to what I said, um..." He trailed off, glancing back at Jimmy. "Blondie," He finished.

"Jimmy," The blonde in question said, sounding slightly amused, "My name's Jimmy," Tango nodded, then stepped in line beside Impulse, still addressing the blonde as Joel stood to the left of him, scowling in the gamemaster's general direction. Despite this, though, Joel could tell that the strange interaction they’d just had with Tango had cheered Jimmy up a bit, even if it had done the opposite to him. Weird.

“Jimmy, huh? Nice name for-“

“Alright then, Jimmy, you’re up.” Impulse said, cutting off Tango. He didn’t seem to notice the glare he got from Tango in response, and Joel raised his eyebrow. He’d imagined these two were friends, at least, but that wasn’t the impression he got from any of the interactions he’d seen. Maybe Impulse really was just a nice person who got robed into this- from the tone of his voice, which was kind in a way a parent’s might be if they were trying to get their child to do something they were scared of, this might’ve been the case.

Jimmy said nothing, but stepped forward to peer into the room of Dare to Flare. Joel mirrored this action, looking to see what they were really up against. He knew the basic description, obviously, and the title told most of what they needed to know. Regardless, he was curious to what the main attraction actually looked like. And like the rest of the building, it was… non-descript. When he made a face, Tango laughed.

“The lava’s not on yet, before you say anything,” The blonde gestured to several slits in the wall, “When they’re turned on, lava will come on and randomly rotate the positions of where you are. You’re free to sit and watch as Jimmy goes through, see if you can catch a pattern,” Joel highly doubted that Tango would suggest this if it would be a genuinely good strategy, so he probably wouldn’t be doing that.

Other than the slits, the only notable thing in the small room was a lowered plate of stone where a piece of paper was. The aim of the game was to grab that piece of paper and make it back to the starting point. Easy, right? Judging from the lack of people who’d won, Joel didn’t doubt it was rigged in some way. “Make sure to read the rules before you go in,” Impulse reminded the two, and Joel glanced towards them.

There were a lot of rules, but as Joel scanned over them, none of them seemed very… probable? For them to exist, someone must’ve done it, but golden apples nor potions were easy to get your hands on unless you were skilled in the necessary field. Considering he hadn’t brought anything, he wouldn’t be breaking any rules at all. He tucked his hands in his pockets and returned his full attention back to Jimmy.

He seemed to be doing some breathing exercises, in his own little world for a little while. Joel didn’t mind this- he took pity on Jimmy, obviously- but it seemed Tango did. With a tiny shove to Jimmy’s shoulder, he instantly broke out of the reverie. “It’s not so difficult,” Tango told him, in what might’ve been a reassuring way if it wasn’t Tango who had said it. This was Joel’s opinion, at least- it genuinely seemed to calm Jimmy down.

“You ready?” Impulse asked, and with a tiny nod, a lever was pulled. It took a moment, but lava was pouring out from several slits within a few seconds. Then, as Tango had said, it began to pour out of other lava slits. Joel watched, but it seemed unpredictable to him- the time it took for them to change was inconsistent, the slits the lava poured out of was completely random and… well, there was definitely a way to calculate it, he just wasn’t intelligent enough to be able to figure out all the math before his turn. He was a genius, but not that much of a genius.

After a few moments, Jimmy took a final deep breath and then moved forwards into the game. Joel watched him intently, feeling out the strategy he might’ve been taking. But, as he probably should’ve expected with someone like Jimmy, there was no strategy. He waited for the lava to form a clear path and then ran straight through it. Sparks of lava flew up and caught on the leg of his pants, but he looked like he had a decent change until his foot landed right in a pool of the molten lava and he shrieked.

Joel winced. He hadn’t expected the noise. “Do you give up?” Tango called, and he got a cry of pain that might’ve been a ‘yes!’. Impulse pulled the lever down and the lava disappeared in seconds. Tango moved forwards to where Jimmy was now slumped on the floor, hand hovering over his foot as if it would hurt him to touch it. “That doesn’t look good,” The host commented, reaching his hand out to Jimmy before deciding that it was very unlikely he’d be able to stand on the foot.

He dithered over his options for a moment, and Joel watched as Jimmy continued to shake from the pain. It was then that it struck how illegal this was- how many people got hurt for absolutely no reward. All of the risk and none of the reward. A voice, very close to his ear, whispered: “You can leave. Tango will be distracted for a minute, you can go.” Joel turned to look at Impulse, eyebrow raised. “I wouldn’t blame you,” The other brunette said, louder.

Joel considered loudly protesting this for a moment – seriously, he was a little scared, but he can’t have looked so shocked at Jimmy hurting himself that Impulse would think he would’ve completely backed out. But bringing attention to the two of them would have meant Impulse would get in trouble for saying it, considering it’d be bad business to scare away customers, so he just answered in a low voice: “I’m not backing out,”

Impulse said nothing more, so he turned his attention back to Jimmy and Tango, the former of which was leaning on the latter in order to limp to where Joel assumed medical care would be waiting. Fresh tears streaked down Jimmy’s face, and whether they were from the pain or the humiliation, he didn’t know. Probably the pain though.

Once they were gone, Joel knew he had only a few moments to think about his plan of action. With Tango away, and Impulse willing to turn a blind eye, he could run the other way and never come back. But that wasn’t even something he’d considered until Impulse had suggested it, so it was more ‘how to play this without losing function in a limb due to nerve damage.

The lava was hot, he could feel that. The heat from it was sweltering when it was dropped in the room, and still lingered once it had stopped. This wasn’t fake. Jimmy’s pain was real, but… Joel liked to think his pain tolerance was rather high. If medical care was instantly available, then by all means, he could hurt as much as he wanted and the game wouldn’t be considered ‘over’ until he gave up.

Jimmy gave up moments after the lava hit his foot, but as nice as he seemed, there was no doubt that he was a coward. Joel was no such thing. He’d minimise the damage taken (coming up with an excuse for the burns to tell Etho and Ren would come later) but as long as he could tough it out, he would get the reward.

The reward he didn’t even really want.

“You ready?” Tango asked, suddenly beside him again. Any worry he had exhibited towards Jimmy was gone, the conman’s smile returning to his face in full force.

Well, it was too late to back out now.

He nodded, stepping off the small raised platform into the game space where, in seconds, lava would be pouring from every hole in the room. Only a few feet away- the prize. He could get it. It would be easy. There and back. As long as he had the prize, the injuries he suffered wouldn’t matter. This mantra repeated in his head, over and over, and the more he thought about it the less of a good idea this sounded.

“I’m ready,” Joel said, though it came out as more of a choked noise. His body interfered with what he knew he felt- his throat was dry, his hands were shaking, his heart was beating so loud he was afraid that Impulse and Tango might be able to hear it. But this wasn’t scary. There was medical attention in the next room over. Who was scared? Not him! “Turn the game on,” He ordered, best he could, but he could barely hear himself over the sound of his heart.

Thankfully, the order was heard. The creak of the lever alerted him, and he watched as the lava poured down from the walls. From closer, he could see the cracks where they leaked from better, could see how they seeped into the floor. He stood there for what seemed like hours but was only seconds before he moved, quickly, into the rain of lava.

His heartbeat was the only thing he could hear, the thumps so hard against his chest they seemed to vibrate his whole body. His eyes focused on the prize (well- the coupon for the prize, wouldn’t want a criminal sneaking in and grabbing it) and he raced towards it, no regard for the flaming pain all over his body. Thankfully, he didn’t run right under one of the spouts of lava – he was sure, in hindsight, that might’ve killed him. It attacked from every side, though.

Feet blazed, arms burnt, legs enflamed, heart pounding. He grabbed the paper and held it close to his chest, turning back to Impulse and Tango and realising that they were both saying something, shouting something, words he couldn’t hear. He moved closer, the horrific pain in his legs making the journey back slower than the journey in. And oh, how it felt like a journey.

He tried to focus on one of the men, but there were blurs beyond the tears that had sparked in his eyes, alongside the dizzy black spots. He swayed on his feet, still clutching the paper. So close. So close.

Impulse pushed down the lever, and Joel collapsed. As his consciousness faded, he heard nothing but the beating of his heart against his chest. Rhythmic thumping, harder than it had ever been before.

…He listened to the sound like it was music, feeling how it vibrated his whole body. He focused on it until there was nothing to focus on – no sound, no feeling. There was nothing except the black abyss of… something. Am I dead? Joel wondered, though the thought was so absurd he returned to thinking of nothing, though not without the picture of how stupid it would be if the Prince of Dogwarts died playing a stupid game.

…Etho might find it funny.

After a while of nothing, the black abyss turned into a more of a red abyss. Then a whiter one, and then Joel realised he could feel everything again. Well, he could feel his heartbeat. He listened to it for a moment, just to assure he was alive. Then, he thought about where he was. In bed, maybe, at home. In a few moments, someone would be bursting through the door, urging him to wake up for some stupid responsibility he had.

“Were you ever planning on telling me you were a prince?” Joel’s eyes shot open. Of all the people he was expecting to wake him up, it wasn’t going to be the sketchy owner of Dare to Flare, the game he had hoped he was only stupid enough to play in his dreams. He focused on Tango, trying to form words, and got a scoff in reply. “Only found out when Etho came looking for you. Said you were his responsibility and that I’d get it if you were seriously injured,” His eyes flashed with some sort of guilt, “I didn’t tell him that you were in such a state. I really think he would’ve hurt me.”

Unpacking all that was too much of a difficult task for Joel’s fuzzy brain, so his eyes flickered around the room. It looked like someone’s bedroom, though it was not his own, nor any others he was familiar with. “Where am I?” He muttered, then blinked in surprise at the coherency of his words.

“My room. In my house. In my bed.” Tango explained, in the weirdest way possible. When he was fixed with a dirty look, he raised his hands in surrender. “Look- when people play Dare to Flare, they’re either idiots looking for an adrenaline kick or need the prize. Usually they know when to quit, and they don’t get this badly injured. And they’re not important, either. You had medical care- you’ve been out for a couple of hours, though,” He laughed in a way that showed it was really not funny at all. “I thought you’d be out for longer,”

“What the fuck,” Was all Joel could answer, because Tango was saying too much bullshit for him to even comprehend what the hell he was saying. Then, he remembered. The prize. He had… won. Surely he had won. “I won,” He said, and Tango frowned. It took a moment for him to answer, and even then, all he got was a shake of his head. “I did! Are you serious? I was there-“

“You weren’t,” Tango cut him off, continuing to shake his head, “And don’t exert yourself, I don’t need more medical bills than you’re worth… I mean, you’re a prince. You can pay them yourself. But anyway. No, you didn’t win. You were still ages from the finish line.” When he was with a glare of distrust and contempt, he raised his hands in surrender, “Ask Impy!”

In his heart, Joel knew that he hadn’t won. He had been very close, clutching the paper still to his chest just meters away from what would’ve been considered a win. This didn’t mean he couldn’t guilt Tango into giving him the prize anyway, “I could’ve died!”

“That’s not my problem!” The blonde said, which was the complete opposite reaction that Joel had expected him to have. Ignoring the fact that it was his problem, Joel was a prince – a fact that Tango knew! Was he not worried Joel could have him executed, or something? Tango remembered himself after a moment, and rectified: “I’m sorry. But you didn’t win, that’s the end of it.”

“But-“

Tango raised his hand, and embarrassingly, that was what shut Joel up. “You didn’t win, but I believe I promised you a dinner,” Joel raised an eyebrow – it had not been him that Tango had offered to, and if he had completely ditched Jimmy in favour of him, it would’ve made him more willing to execute him (not that he had the power to do that.)

“…You didn’t,” He answered, and Tango rolled his eyes.

“Your friend, then. Jimmy? He’s downstairs, with Impy. Your legs got the least of it, so I figured after a little bit of rest you’d be able to walk downstairs and have dinner. If that sounds cool,” It’s weird, and it almost sounds like a date proposition, except not really, because this is the guy who orchestrated the thing that almost killed him. Burnt him so badly he passed out. It’d surprise him if he could move at all. Experimentally, he wiggled his toes, then tried out all his limbs.

It was a little stiff, but only a dull pain shot through them. Glancing down for the first time, his arms were covered completely in bandages (he wasn’t going to be able to hide this from Ren, he was going to be in so much trouble-) but… he moved it again, and there was almost no pain. He looked at Tango, who was grinning. Before he was even able to ask, the strange man said: “A little bit of magic can make things feel better in no time.” Joel didn’t even want to ask. “So? Are you taking up my offer?”

Joel paused, then made the move so that his legs were dangling over the edge of the bed. He sighed, then got out of it completely. “Yeah. Why not,”