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Scar was. . . Different than Grian had expected from the wizard. Then again, he already was different from what he had expected. Not long after Grian had introduced himself, had Scar taken him to his main home. It was underground, beneath the shop. He ignored the way nerves had pricked at his mind at the prospect of going underground. Scar had revealed a hidden trapdoor behind the counter, concealed with an illusion.
It led down a well-lit wooden staircase, which opened up into a main living space. The walls were well rounded and a warm color, the ceiling easily six or seven feet above his head. Somehow, there were windows in the walls, revealing dark fields od grass, trees in the distance. The sky darkened with night, stars scattered across the sky with the moon guiding the way.
Scar smiled and spun with a dramatic flair of his hands. “Welcome to my humble abode!” Grian looked around in a quiet awe. The place felt warm and welcoming, he had a hard time believing that the place was underground. He allowed Scar to lead him through the dining room, through the kitchen, and down a hallway which had many doorways, none with doors in them.
‘You probably don’t need doors when you're living with yourself,’ Grian thought. A bathroom, a storeroom, an office, a library. . . The list goes on. Paintings lined the walls, depicting forests, plains, mountains, sky scapes, enchanted woodlands and more. Eventually, they arrived at a room almost at the end of the hallway. It was one of the four which actually had a door.
Scar opened it, stepping over the doorframe which went around the entire circular door for some reason. The first word that came to Grian's mind when he walked in was cozy. Against the wall to the left was a green bed, a cabinet in the corner to the right of it. All along the back wall were shelves, a random assortment of items scattered across them. There was a desk and chair against the right wall, with a window depicting a night-time jungle. The muffled sound of frogs coming through the window.
He briefly wondered if the window really led to a jungle, or if it was just another illusion. The last two things he noticed in the room were the green rug which decorated the floor and the high ceiling, which just like the rest of the house was easily six or seven feet higher than the top of his head. Well, it looked like he didn’t have to worry about his room being too small.
Scar spun on his heels for the second time, once again flailing his hands. ‘Drama king,’ was the only thing he could think of at the show. “So. . . How do you like it? It’s your room!” the wizard exclaimed, a lopsided grin on his face.
Grian bit back a sarcastic comment (he still didn’t know if he was allowed to act like that) as he said, “Well it really, really is quite nice.”
“So, you like it?” Scar beamed. Grian refrained from rolling his eyes as he looked around the room.
“Yep!” He chirped, his wings fluttering gently.
Scar seemed to grin even wider. Somehow. “Okay well its late, so you get settled in and I'll see you tomorrow! Goodnight little birdie!” He said, waving over his shoulder as he left Grian in his new bedroom. He refrained from rolling his eyes as the man left the room.
The next morning, Grian got up to find Scar having already been and just finishing making breakfast. The man was already fully dressed, the only difference in his attire since the previous day being that his hood was now down, revealing his neat and yet shaggy shoulder-length brown hair. Somehow. Scar turned, a grin already on his face and offered a plate containing a stack of chocolate chip pancakes.
“I made pancakes for you!” he beamed, his emerald eyes glittering. Grian only sighed. He couldn’t eat chocolate, avians were essentially allergic. It was like having a sugar high cranked up to one hundred, causing their heart to beat so fast it could cause a heart attack. Very bad for birds.
“I can’t have any, I’m allergic to chocolate,” Grian explained, avoiding Scar’s gaze.
Oddly enough, the man only seemed to beam wider. “Oh, I know! These ones are for me! What you think a three-hundred-and-seventy-year-old wizard doesn’t know that avian’s can’t eat chocolate?” Scar teased, Grian nearly doing a double take at how easily Scar dropped how old he was.
“Three hundred and seventy?!” he squawked, his wings fluffing out in shock.
“Yep! Anyway, those ones over there are for you!” Scar exclaimed, grinning as he set his plate down on the circular spruce wood table before vaguely gesturing at the counter. Next to the stove, was a plate containing a stack of berry pancakes. Not just normal pancakes, but berry pancakes. Which meant that Scar had specifically made an entirely different batch just for the avian instead of just adding chocolate to his own. The wizard really was very strange. Grian was the guest here, he should be the one making breakfast for Scar, not the other way around!
‘Maybe Scar likes making things?’ he thought to himself as he grabbed his plate before joining Scar at the table, sitting on the chair across from the man’s which didn’t have a back to it. He was pretty sure the chair had had a back to it the previous day. Maybe he just remembered incorrectly? He didn’t exactly have the best memory for certain things. But this didn’t quite fit into that list and he would like to say he was observant about his surroundings.
Grian shook the thought from his mind and chose to look around the room as he started eating the pancakes (which were absolutely fantastic, the man really had no right to make pancakes that good.) The main color of the walls, cabinets and colors was spruce wood, with the actual counters being of dark oak along with the floors and any detailing as well. The table was in the middle of the room, but the wall behind where Scar sat was another window, this time showing a forest scene, only it was day and not night. The rest of the walls had shelves containing plants, gemstones and more, along with paintings of anything ranging from enchanted woodland to the highest of mountain peaks.
All the rooms smelled like wood and plant life, and the whole aesthetic of the wizard’s home screamed warmth and comfort. Then again, this was essentially his cottage in the woods, and he was almost four hundred (apparently), so it would make sense. Grian’s gaze trailed back to where Scar sat across from him. Instead of eating, Scar was just silently watching him, a grin slowly creeping on his face. He hastily shoved a bite of the pancakes into his mouth. Had he been looking around too much? Should he have focused more on eating? Maybe Scar had something for him to do after eating and looking around was not an appropriate action in the given moment.
Grian’s mind didn’t even process what it meant when someone grinned, or the implications of it until Scar spoke up.
“You like it, birdie?” Grian stared at him blankly, his brain rapidly trying to catch up to what was going on. To retract itself from its spiral. Seeming to realize his confusion, Scar continued, “My humble abode!”
Oh. Grian looked around once more, just for good measure and responded, “Well it really is quite nice.”
Scar beamed at the avian and with a grin asked, “And the pancakes?”
“They’re good,” he stated. For some reason Scar seemed to deflate at that. Grian momentarily panicked. He had upset Scar. Why had he upset Scar? His statement had been positive, even if it was more neutral.
“They’re just good?!” Scar explained dramatically, like the statement had devastated him. Grian briefly wondered just how much was dramatics. He reminded himself that neutral can be interpreted negatively and hurried to correct his error.
“I mean, well that may—that may—have been a mild understatement. ‘Cause these pancakes are fantastic,” he told him, purposefully taking another bite of the food as if to prove his point. Scar once again beamed at the avian, his emerald eyes twinkling with happiness.
“Well good, good! I'm glad! I've been around long enough so my cooking should be good!” Scar exclaimed happily. As the two ate, the wizard rambled about the different foods he liked to cook and to bake. Eventually leading to a very passionate discussion about the best types of cookies.
Scar really was a strange man.
~ ¤ ~
Grian was starting to feel a bit like a broken record. But Scar really was a strange man. The first couple of days after he had moved in, Scar had commissioned him to clean around his house. Claimed that the avian could do it better because his hands were smaller, and therefore could fit in smaller places. Plus, it would be easier for Grian to get down on the floor then Scar. He wasn’t entirely sure how much easier it would be for him, since he couldn’t feel anything with his hands (them being numb to everything for many years, having to use his magic to tell when they're touching something), but that was fine.
While Grian did not exactly enjoy cleaning, he did not complain even once. Not even when Scar simply Watcher him from the side, chattering about everything and nothing. Him listening all the while, paying attention to what the wizard liked to talk about, to remember for later. At some point, Scar had gone off to go get something (what, he hadn’t said) which had left him in the hallway, finishing cleaning the bottom shelves to a cabinet in the hallway.
His wings fluttered behind him, they were itch and felt dirty from the amount of cleaning he had done. Grian made a mental note to preen them later, after he could go to his room. He let out a deep sigh and stood, his knees and back popping in about three different ways. Looking around the hallway, he found the paintings, shelves and cabinets clean. The doorways all open except for three.
His, which he had kept closed because Scar kept it closed. Scar's, which Grian had no interest in going into (well, he did and it would be a lie if he didn’t) until he knew for a fact that he could. And the door at the end of the hallway. He hadn’t even seen it the first night and every time he looked at it, he could feel his mind want to look away.
It was only because of his Sight that had enabled him to notice the door at all. Grian's ears fluttered with curiosity and he glared behind him. The coast was clear. He crept closer to the door, his footsteps silent on the green runner which went down the hallway. Curiosity pulled at his mind, his wings fluttering softly. Why would Scar put a hiding spell over the door?
What was behind it? He stopped in front of it. Grian reached up, his numb fingers wrapping around the door knob and twisted. It was locked. Maybe he could use his Eyes? He hadn’t used his Eyes since he had moved with Scar, some instinct telling him that somehow the wizard would know. However, Scar wasn’t there right now, he was off doing whatever.
Grian opened his eyes, momentarily allowing them to float before drawing them to the door. He tried the handle one more time, just in case. Still locked. He pushed his sight forward, to go through the threshold of the door to See whatever lay beyond. Only he couldn’t. It was like there was a net or a wall, blocking his way.
Preventing him from going in. Grian frowned and tried again, this time for a different angle and yet he was greeted by the same barrier. He hissed to himself and placed his hand on the door allowing it to trail down the dark wood. His Eyes circled around the barrier, trying to find some way in. A hand was placed on his shoulder and he spin around, to find Scar stood behind him.
Grian was once again reminded of how the man absolutely towered over him. Of the strength he had, with the strong and firm grip he had on the avian's shoulder. He carefully hid any emotions behind a mask of mild confusion. Hiding any fear that built up in his mind, in the tension in his wings.
Scar smiled, the shape of his mouth almost too perfect. Not quite reaching his eyes, which glowed dangerously. “Sorry birdie, but you can’t go in there,” Scar told him, his voice smooth and almost cheery even. The complete opposite of the quiet threat which hid behind his gaze. Scar glanced behind him, he guessed at the door, and invisible Eyes which had been trying to See into the room snuffed themselves out of existence.
Scar looked back at Him, his smile growing even wider. “I'm afraid you can’t see in there either,” the man said, his voice soft. Any thoughts or things to respond with whole shattered as Grian numbly stared at Scar, trying to process what the man had just said. He allowed Scar to slowly push him aside to open the door, quietly mumbling a spell to unlock it before pushing the door open with a creak.
Grian only watched as Scar entered before closing the door behind him, not even trying to see what lay beyond that door anymore. What had Scar meant by ‘see?’ he couldn’t know about his magic, could he? No one could see his Eyes when he kept them invisible, not even Them. So surely Scar couldn’t see Them, could he?
‘No, no, no, no, no,’ his mind reasoned hurriedly. ‘He had just meant that I couldn’t look in from the doorway. Yeah, that’s it,’ he explained to himself. It was fine, there was nothing for him to worry about. However, even so, maybe it would be safer for him to not use his Eyes in the presence of the wizard. Even if he thought he wasn’t there.
Grian let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding and looked around. He had upset Scar, which left him dancing on a dangerous tightrope of being allowed to live in Scar's home, and being imprisoned, just like the man had originally planned. There had to be something he could do to get back in his good graces.
Maybe he could make lunch? It was a bit late for lunch, but he hadn't eaten yet and he was sure Scar hadn’t either since he hadn’t invited Grian to eat with him. So, Grian cleaned himself up and set himself to making something for Scar. Then, Scar could forgive him, and he would be back to the safety of the platform.