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They'd decided to settle their war with a game.
A series of challenges, rather, designed by each member of Scar's HEP and Mother Spore's Resistance. They could be dangerous, lethal, even, as it would hardly be any fun otherwise. Grian had long since grown suspicious that the Mayor of Aqua Town had some amount of fae in him, such was the humor and nerve that rivaled even his own - but that was exactly what drew him to Scar, why the mother of the mycelium had grown fond of the man who tried so hard to destroy them. And though neither spoke it out loud, both of them knew this interest was the only thing keeping Mother Spore from simply destroying the entire town.
It was easy enough for Grian to slip through the window of the town hall into the mayor's office, just as it had been every other time. As much as they had tried to cover it up with grass and cement, the grounds on which the building stood were home to the tendrils of his mycelia that hid below, a wide network that spread through the innards of each wall and floorboard just out of view, making any locked doors completely inconsequential. He quietly stepped inside and slid the window closed, wings fluttering behind him and steps light in his shorter sporeling form, away from the heart of his domain.
Scar sat behind his desk, leaning back into his chair, and it surprised Grian to realize as he approached that the man had his eyes closed, seemingly taking a nap. Perhaps their little dispute had finally taken a toll on him, exhaustion from the final stages of planning settling in and lulling him to sleep. It had been a fierce conflict after all, between the frequent stunts from the Resistance that could range from playful pranks to more destructive forms of sabotage, and HEP's slow crawling comeback after their attempt at invading the town's factory failed catastrophically and the location of Mother Spore's heart, the source of all of his mycelium, was exposed. How careless then, Grian thought with an amused grin on his lips, to sleep so soundly when his enemy lurked so close.
Although, he reflected as he silently stepped closer, perhaps "enemy" was not quite right. They commanded opposing forces, each fighting for the claim of a territory that rightfully belonged to Mother Spore and was intruded upon by humans long ago with no regard for their previous arrangements, but their personal relationship was more... complicated. Grian was fascinated by this man, each careful move orchestrated by their respective factions a bold step in this playful dance they found themselves caught in. And Scar was nothing if not bold, his audacity toeing the line between an insult and captivating entertainment. The Mayor infuriated Mother Spore just as much as he allured him.
There was something else, too, that inexplicably took root deep inside Grian's chest like the mycelium he so lovingly tended to. It was an odd desire to consume, to take, perhaps a reflection of his very own nature, though he did not know in what way; it was affection just as it was obsession, conflicting feelings that he wished to express all at once and that had drawn him to make an impulsive wager to the confusion of his fellow fae. They needed to establish the rules of their game, the next step of their dance, but what Grian truly wanted was something else entirely.
Now stood in front of Scar with only a large desk between them, Grian paused, examining the peaceful face of the slumbering mayor. Rare were the moments in which he was able to be so close, as during meetings within his domain Scar would keep a wise and respectful distance between them, and when Grian intruded upon the town to let his precious mycelium spread and consume everything he could touch, he would keep his own distance from the mayor's enforcers. Even when they had thrown away all caution and allowed themselves to be just a breath away from each other, amused congratulatory taunts exchanged at the unexpected turns of their odd dance, Scar's expression always held a glint of arrogant defiance, though Mother Spore could make out the concealed tension laced between every deliberately chosen word.
As he slept, however, there was only a soft stillness in the mayor's face, scarred as it was. It was unguarded, honest, and Grian vaguely wondered if he would look as gentle were his words not always sharp and coated in iron. It stirred that peculiar feeling within him as well, and with it the thought that Scar could look just as peaceful with delicate hyphae spreading within his veins and blooming out of his chest in a beautiful array of colorful fungi. How enchanting would it be, to devour his fragile human body and let it feed something much greater, belong to the branching vastness of the mycelium and in turn, to him.
Grian's hand absentmindedly traced the desk in front of him for a moment before he leaned in as far as it would allow him. Not fully satisfied, he allowed himself onto the desk without a care for the paperwork and trinkets that cluttered its surface, pushing them aside as he settled on his knees and slowly raised a hand until it hovered about the same height as the mayor's neck, barely an inch away. He wanted to have Scar's serene expression only for himself, just as much as he wanted to delight in all of the sharpness and strain that resulted from their clashes. He wanted to directly cause it, be the very reason Scar struggled and flailed in an attempt to pry dark clawed hands and growing hyphae from his throat. His fingers tensed with the temptation of lovingly taking Scar into the tender embrace of his mycelia, conflicting desires making his inky black eyes narrow as he examined the prey of his odd affection. What did he truly want, after all?
Then, Scar stirred, and Grian retracted his hand, convoluted thoughts cut short. He tilted his head to the side, the hat-like mushroom he wore casting shade onto the mayor's face as the few braided strands of beaded hyphae that dangled from its brim swayed gently with the movement, and watched Scar slowly come into consciousness with slow groggy blinks, immediately followed by a startled jump in his seat and a rather undignified yelp. Perhaps waking up to a mushroom shaped silhouette and pitch black eyes merely an inch away from his face was not the most peaceful way he could have been roused from his nap, and the accidental minor heart attack he caused made Grian giggle, sharp teeth not making the visage any better.
"Oh-! Oh, goodness! Goodness. Why, hello there!" Scar gave a breathless chuckle, trying to regain his composure and leaning back into his chair, away from Grian. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this lovely visit? Honestly, I was very unprepared!"
"I did notice, yes," Grian grinned, sounding pleased. "I hope you can pardon the intrusion, but I believe we have matters to discuss regarding our little dispute."
"Ah, yes- yes, the terms and conditions of our game!" Scar seemed to gather himself, clearing his throat and straightening his back. He still leaned away from Grian, attempting to maintain some respectful distance, perhaps for the sake of his own nerves. "It is to the benefit of HEP and the Resistance alike that we are very thorough in outlining these rules, indeed."
Grian's eyes narrowed. He knew that Scar was deeply aware of how the fae operated, and above all, how Mother Spore liked to play. And, judging by the smirk that was barely concealed behind his polite smile, his wording had not been accidental. They ought to be thorough in defining the rules because only then could Grian search for a way to exploit them, but never break them, what fun would it be then? It was far more entertaining to work within the boundaries set by them, and figure out what tricks he could pull despite it all. These rules were also important because there was a lot on the line, a shiny prize promised for the victors - and Grian had to be ready to commit to his side of the bargain, since he would make damn sure to collect his share should he win.
"Indeed," he parroted, leaning in closer to close the gap Scar had created; he had composed himself far too quickly, and Grian simply couldn't have that. "I believe the game itself was made quite clear, yes?"
"I- yes, I believe so!" Scar hesitated for a split second, the lost ground between them seeming to have its desired effect. "We can move on to defining the spoils. Or rather- a wager, as you called it?" Scar asked, and there was a glint of something in his eye that almost made Grian lean back. Almost. "Simply lay down the terms, and I will agree to them, given that they are fair!"
That resulted in a raised eyebrow. The mayor was usually much more cautious with his bargains, could it be that he was finally stumbling in his steps? Or perhaps Grian was not the only one whose chest was filled with conflicting desires, and they were both starting to slip up. It was a dance, still, and they continued to go back and forth between who was leading.
"Precisely. Instead of a grand prize, I propose a series of wagers between us. Directly between members, any of their choosing, and of whatever nature they would like, though it must be established before the game begins. In simpler terms, each of us may state what we want from another, and if we win, we get it. Easy enough, don't you think?"
"Easy enough," Scar agreed, that strange glint never fading. "And we choose only one person for our wager?"
"Oh, no, not necessarily. You may make as many requests as you wish. You simply must be ready to commit should you lose," Grian giggled, tilting his head to one side. Changing his seating arrangements on the desk, Grian opted for sliding closer to the edge on Scar's end and letting his legs dangle on each side of the mayor's body, almost a mockery of sitting on his lap. He noticed Scar tense for a moment, but he did not move his chair away from the desk. "Why, dearest mayor? Do you have more than one of us in mind?"
"No, no, I already know exactly what I want," he assured. Instead of leaning away, Scar stood from his chair, firmly remaining where he was so that Grian's legs framed his hips. And, in further defiance, he placed his hands on the desk on each side of Grian's body, leaning closer. "I would like to make a wager with you, dear Mother Spore. If HEP wins, I want you to retract your mycelium from the land on which Aqua Town is built, so that it is no longer considered under the dominion of the fae," he smiled. "It will fully belong to the town hall, vacated of your network growing beneath."
Grian's expression turned sour, and his eyes narrowed into a dangerous expression - so there it was, the reason for the reckless acceptance or his terms. That land was Mother Spore's own, had been since before the town had been built and should have continued to be far beyond the lifespan of any of its inhabitants. It was a man from a time before Scar's, the city's original founder, who walked over their delicate arrangement and betrayed Mother Spore, extending the reaches of the city while he could not act against it and incurring the wrath of the fae who lived under his protection as well as his own. It was a symbol of disrespect, a disregard for forces far more powerful than they could ever imagine.
"The island is ours," Grian hissed, displeased. "The veins of mycelium and forest growth once reached far wider than it does now, and it was a man like you who drove our treaty into the ground for the sake of expanding your insignificant little town. You have no right, we own every patch of land you uselessly attempt to cover in grass."
"Not if you lose, you won't," Scar replied cheerfully, an infuriating grin plastered artificially on his face. Then, his expression shifted into something more professional, a prelude to when he would coat his words with honey and present ludicrous ideas with the confidence and boldness of someone who is simply stating the weather. "I do agree, dear Mother Spore, that the very founder of this city disregarded the will of the fae and took what wasn't ours to take. But that is what I seek to rectify! Should this wager be won by me, Aqua Town will no longer intrude upon fae land, because it will not be fae land. It will be human territory, fair and square. Would it not?"
The sheer audacity of the suggestion alone was appalling, and Grian's jaw tensed as he quietly fumed. It was, unfortunately, also exactly what Scar needed to legitimize the small city's presence on the island, making it so the fae no longer had a justified reason to act against its inhabitants, and most infuriatingly, it was a wager Mother Spore would have to honor should the Resistance lose. His irritation also only barely disguised a sharp sting of panic that rose in his chest, a sudden fear that all of their games would be over and Grian would no longer be able to toy with his beloved mayor. Could he find a way around it? He would have to dig for a loophole, any cracks through which to squeeze his claws - that was what he did best, after all. Even if it no longer belonged to him, that did not mean he could not step foot into the town, did it? That did not seem to be part of the terms, at least not currently.
"Aaand," Scar added more casually, piquing Grian's interest and dragging him away from his ruminations. The mayor seemed to have noticed his intense displeasure and the scheming that began brewing in the brief silence, deciding to interrupt them by speaking, which to his credit was what he did best.
"And...?" Grian squinted. Such a daring request, and yet he had the confidence to ask for more. Such was Scar, mayor of Aqua Town, and Mother Spore's personal and dearest dilemma.
"And," he repeated, locking eyes with Grian and letting his facade fall slightly, the pretense of saccharine politeness slipping away replaced by a more earnest expression. "I want you to spend a day with me. A single day, in Aqua Town, by my side."
Grian blinked a few times, taken aback, momentarily uncertain on how to react. Somehow, that request seemed even more appalling than the previous one, another unexpected sharp turn, a sudden pull in their dance that sought to bring his hand to gentle lips rather than stepping further away.
"...I am right here," Grian said slowly, skeptically, maintaining the intense eye contact. "I have been with you on many days, on many occasions."
"While we fight an ongoing war, dear Mother Spore," he sighed, leaning back and sitting down on his chair again. "I wish for a peaceful day with you, for us to… talk. Don't you think that is long overdue? These occasions you mention, the ones in which we allowed ourselves to chatter on like nothing else mattered for the briefest of moments, were they not wonderful?"
There seemed to be a weight laced between his words, one more profound than Grian could decipher at a glance, and a peculiar sense of familiarity settled in his stomach like lead. He had heard this before, been offered a friendly hand and invited to spend a day with the object of his odd affection - and the result had been searing flesh and pain as his body was almost completely destroyed, centuries of slumber to recover while the world moved on without him and he lost almost everything he'd had. He could still feel bitterness on his tongue whenever he was reminded of that wizard who first wandered into his domain so long ago, and his expression twisted in displeasure, which the mayor seemed to assume was directed at him, as he began speaking again.
"Well- these are my terms! A request for the sake of my city and our future good relations with your people, and a selfish request for my own sake," he placed a hand on his chest, the mask of a charming smile firmly back on his lips. Somehow, that also felt awfully familiar, and the bitter taste only worsened. "And what do you desire, should you win? It hardly seems fair to place a one-sided wager, after all!"
The truth was, Grian had already settled on what he wanted, and despite thinking it over multiple times and telling himself he should come up with something more grandiose and ambitious, he found that he had no desire to change it. The mayor had called his own request selfish, but so was Grian's - and Mother Spore was fundamentally a deeply selfish creature, wanting nothing but to consume, to devour, and have all that he desired for himself. In his mind, the island was already his, the town was already his, so he didn't need to ask for it. There was, however, one thing he did not have, and somehow the weight that festered in his stomach and the bitterness that resurfaced inexplicably strengthened his resolve, as he was determined to not let the chance of sinking his claws into it pass him by again.
"I already told you, back when we came up with this little game," he tilted his head to the side, expression blank. "If I win, you will leave the town and join me in my domain. Don't tell me you had forgotten?"
This time Scar was the one to hesitate before responding, a genuine look of surprise getting swiftly concealed beneath a more carefully constructed semblance of composure, though it still had cracks in the way his eyes darted across Grian's face, as if trying to study his expression for something.
"Ah, well. I had not forgotten, I assure you," he chuckled, though there was a nervous edge to it. "I had simply hoped you would have, ah… reconsidered? The town can't run itself, you know! And I guarantee that there is no man on this island that could fill the role of mayor better than my good self, my approval rate of… what was it now, 350 percent? Well, it speaks for itself! Truly, it would be chaos if I left, Mother Spore! And, and, uh-" he trailed off seeing Grian's unblinking expression, and after a pause, snorted softly, shaking his head seemingly to himself. "And, of course, that is of no relevance to you, is it?"
"It is not," Grian agreed. "I never wanted this town here. I allowed it to sprout against my better judgment, and it spoiled my own home. Be glad I do not despise it to the point of wanting it completely gone," he added dryly.
"That sentiment is reserved to the man who founded it, I assume?" Scar asked cautiously. "An awful man, yes. And a terrible wizard, I've heard."
"You've heard?" Grian's expression turned puzzled, the comment shifting his focus away from the irritation that had started simmering in his chest again. It was impressive how well Scar could lure his attention between topics by simply running his mouth, though he doubted it was completely accidental when he did. In hindsight, perhaps that was a significant factor in securing the mayor's survival thus far. Was Grian that easily distracted? "From whom? I am the only one to ever mention it, since your little town seems to have thoroughly forgotten its own history."
"Well, from you!" he said as if it were obvious. "With the way you speak of him, I can only assume the worst. But- no matter! We seek to correct his mistakes, after all," he smiled brightly. "These shall be our terms, then. If HEP wins, the space the town occupies will no longer belong to you or any other fae, properly becoming human land. And I get to take you sightseeing for a day, since you won't need to be busy trying to eat our wonderful buildings with all of that awful mycelium! And if your Resistance wins, I will move out of the town hall and into the spooky magic woods."
"If the Resistance wins, you will move into my domain, with me," Grian corrected the wording. "Nice try. If you simply try to relocate to the edge of the forest, I will ensure that your flesh becomes the nutrients to feed the most beautiful and colorful arrangement of mushrooms I can grow."
"Right, yes, I will move into your domain with you," he nodded, not seeming to want to push his luck again. "I assume that second part will not be included in your terms, then? The whole flesh eating business."
Grian paused, thinking it over. The lovely image of a wide array of colors and shapes growing from the mayor's chest still lingered in his mind, and as alluring as the idea was, he was not entirely certain he wanted to do that. At the very least, he didn't want to commit to it yet. He hadn't fully decided what he wanted the mayor for, anyway - he hardly ever thought that far ahead - but he supposed he could show some mercy for now.
"I make no promises. But it is not an explicit part of the deal, either," he smiled. "Does that comfort you, dear mayor?"
"It certainly makes me feel a little better!" he chuckled, though it was hardly genuine. "Will that be all? Despite my poorly timed nap, I am a very busy man, you see. You wouldn't believe how many meetings I still have today alone!"
"Of course," Grian sounded amused, and after letting his gaze linger for a moment, finally hopped off of the desk next to Scar, circling around the back of his chair with slow steps. "So am I, in fact. I have a few fun games to come up with, after all," he tilted his head, leaning in over Scar's shoulder, smiling sharply. "I'll see you very soon, dear mayor. Try not to miss me too much."
"Likewise, dear Mother Spore," he smiled politely, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands on the desk once Grian had stepped away. "Likewise."
And just as swiftly as he'd entered, Grian slid the office window open and slipped outside, not bothering to close it behind him and spreading his wings to fly away, catching only a faint 'ah' as Scar seemed to piece together how he had gotten into the building in the first place. He had much to think about, had to create the perfect challenge against the mayor and HEP and all who dared to defy him - and, if he fancied it, deliberate on what to do with his prize when he won. Anything to keep his mind away from the bitter past and the way it still stung deeply, and how the traces of honesty that slipped past the mayor's cold pretense of politeness reminded him of a face from long ago he wished to forget, and yet clung so desperately to the memory of.