Chapter Text
“I just don’t understand you. Why do you hate me so much?”
That stung. Worse than an arrow to gut. The back of his mouth felt dry as he scrambled for the words to say next, something that wouldn’t make him sound like an utterly terrible person.
“I don’t hate you.”
Scar furrowed his brows, “You act like you do. You really, really act like it.”
“I don’t mean it that-” Grian bit back, not quite sure how to explain his feelings. No, he didn’t hate Scar, he just couldn’t stand being tied to him in such an intimate way. And maybe that was hypocritical of him, and maybe they both knew that, but what he did know was that he did not hate Scar at all. He just trusted BigB more.
“But… but everyone knows you build these games, each time!” Scar started, “It’s all your own intricate planning, your ideas and mechanics and rules.” He sucked in a breath, let it go, “I don’t think it’s a coincidence we’re soulmates, yet you treat me like a child.”
“Scar, I told you and I told everyone else that I had no clue we were soulmates until I hit you.” Grian said, taking a step forward.
Scar pressed his lips together and seemed to struggle with what he was going to say next, “You see, Grian, I just can’t believe you when you say that.”
Grian groaned, rubbing his hand up his face in exasperation. And this right here was exactly why he hadn’t been all too thrilled about being soulmates with Scar. Scar was stubborn and when he had made his mind, well, there was no going back. No more thinking. And then… he just jumps in, barreling forward and forward. That would get them killed and would destroy a bond they both very much needed to keep intact.
“Scar.” Grian started, “Look, I-I had no clue we were soulmates. Had no clue we were even going to be soulmates. If you thought I planned for us to be soulmates, then why…” Then why would I create that alliance with BigB? Grian thought, and quickly shut himself up before he made this even worse.
“Then why would you be ‘Secret Soulmates’ with BigB?” Scar decided to finish for him.
Well.
Grian had already opened the can of worms, so why shouldn’t he just lay in it.
“Scar, it wasn’t like that. ” Grian started, “It’s just a- it’s a dumb little alliance we made. We share resources, that’s it. ”
“A ‘dumb little alliance’.” Scar repeated, seeming to taste the syllables on his tongue.
Grian wrung his hands, “Yes. Just… it wasn’t…”
“I think you’re trying to hurt me, Grian.” Scar cut him off, diverting his eyes, “I think you did this all on purpose to hurt me. Why? I don’t know. But,” He made eye contact with Grian again, “I just can’t trust you.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I… I need to think. I need time to think.”
Grian marched up to Scar and grabbed him by the shoulders, “Scar, look. I screwed up, I know. I did something stupid, I know. But I’m not trying to hurt you at all! None of this was a plot to hurt you! I don’t even know h-” He cut himself off. No. No, he wasn’t going to insult Scar right here and right now and turn this disaster any worse.
Scar shrugged Grian’s hands off his shoulders, gentle, then wheeled himself over to the chests. He rummaged through each one, taking valuables and storing them in his inventory. Silent. So silent that it rang, and the ringing bounced around Grian’s head until he felt he may have a migraine. He hated silence, but most of all he hated silence from Scar. Silence from Scar was like darkness when the candle is lit – unnatural.
“I’m heading out. I’m gonna find a place to stay and… think about this.” He turned to face Grian, a grim look on his face, “If you need someone to stay with, stay with BigB and Ren. As long as Ren doesn’t know either.”
“Scar-”
But it was too late and Scar was gone. And suddenly, everything felt very, very empty. And the walls seemed all the more flammable. Grian could picture as they crackled and simmered until the walls collapsed, and when the walls collapsed, the ocean of ashes in their wake. And maybe this was all one big overreaction in the long run, because one day he would have to kill (or at least try to kill) Scar, but that was only if they made it to the end. They were going to separate, one day, some time. And maybe that would have ended with Scar’s blood on his knuckles again.
Grian pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. Scar was gone now, and there was no guarantee he was returning, whether it was good for him or not. That meant that Grian must care for himself – for him and for Scar. He would have to be extra careful and hide everything he held precious (he refused to lose the sugar cane). No extra person around meant it was now only his job to defend the tower and himself. And the Jellies, he supposed.
He took his axe and started hacking at the middle tower, the one hollow and likely full of mobs. He kept his sword close, and food on hand, and continued to chop and chop until the wood gave. He paused, making sure the whole structure wouldn’t collapse from a small break, then crawled through the hole when it stayed. Once inside, he quickly lit a torch, setting it in the middle of the empty tower. Shockingly, nothing monstrous had decided to crawl its way from the ground of teleport into the shadows.
Grian stuck a few more torches into the ground, ensuring the safety, and then made his way through the small entrance once more. Through some struggling, he managed to get a crafting bench through the hole, and squeezed in after it. With what wood was left on him, he quickly whipped up a small, flimsy chest, and settled it into a snug little corner. He deposited the sugar cane he had had sitting in his inventory, ready to spill with his blood if he ever lost his green life. He had failed the past two servers to achieve a monopoly, and he was determined to have one this time around.
Scar still had some sugar cane on him.
Grian wrinkled his nose at the thought. Scar would probably sell it if given a chance, ruining Grian’s chance at a monopoly. Or if Scar was a decent soulmate, he would keep what little he had on him secret as well, locked away.
If Grian had been a decent soulmate, maybe Scar wouldn’t have left.
He shook that thought from his head, slamming the chest shut and locking it. He began piling rocks around it – not the most genius way to hide it if anyone decided to break through his tower, but it made him feel a little bit better. Satisfied, he climbed through the hole again and quickly repaired the wood, impressed at how it looked as though no accident had occurred at all.
Grian knocked his knuckles against the wood, “At least one thing’s sturdy huh?”
Silence. What was he even thinking?
Well… what more did he really have to do? Wandering the server in hopes of selling big could work, paper preorders? He could head to the mines, prepare himself for the looming day of bloodshed and chaos. He could see if he could form more alliances, find people who wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on him (or Scar) in hopes of surviving longer than a day now separated from his soulmate.
Or maybe I can just rest.
Or… that. Really, Grian hadn’t even considered that possibility. For weeks now he had been fighting to keep himself and Scar from kicking the bucket early on. Fighting to get a halfway decent base, which, though extremely flammable, had ended in success. And now he had this base, this whole base, to himself. A double bed, to himself, to roll around in and take up as much space as he wished. Perhaps he needed it, gods knew he did.
When was the last time he ever really got a rest?
Something itched on the back of his neck.
Well… just a nap wouldn’t hurt now, would it?
Before he knew it, he was climbing into bed. While it wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, it did its job, and the blanket was warm and safe and soft. When he laid his head on the pillow, he realized just how nice it was to just rest. He briefly wondered how high his blood pressure had been these past few weeks and how he hadn’t managed to get a heart attack.
And while all that was very very nice, there was still one little thing that just felt off.
How did Grian ever expect a moment of contentment? Whether Scar was around or not, he couldn’t even have a moment of peace. So much for rest, he supposed. He sat up, shaking the sleepiness from his mind. It appeared he would need to be productive today.
“Grian.”
All exhaustion seemed to seep out of Grian’s at the voice coming from the door (or rather, a very poor excuse of a door). Standing in it was Joel, leaned against the doorway. His sword of shimmering diamond, glinting in the midday sun, hung from his belt, and Grian knew that in itself was enough of a threat.
“What do you want, Joel?” Grian grumbled, pushing the blanket off his legs.
Joel smirked, “Just wanted to talk to you about your whole sugar cane and paper monopoly.”
“I swear to God Joel, if you pull out a piece of sugar cane, I will-”
“Etho and I want you to show us where the sugar cane is.”
“ What? ”
Joel stepped into the base and Grian slipped out of the bed immediately, fumbling for his sword in his inventory. He widened his stance, sword in hand, wings, though useless, held in a defensive position.
Joel huffed out a laugh, “Do you really think I’m gonna attack you, Grian? You're green, I'm yellow, we’d be kicked from the server, according to your rules. ”
“I don’t plan to fight you.” Grian said, stepping forward in what he hoped appeared as a brave fashion, “I just want you out of my house.”
“Not until you give us access to the sugar cane.” Joel said, get closer.
Grian’s heart pounded against his chest, the beats so loud he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. He swallowed. He knew exactly where the sugar cane was, not as far as he tried to make the others believe. Closer than he found comfortable. He couldn’t let Joel know that, though. There was no doubt that the man would start digging tunnels like a little mole underneath the base until he found the stash.
“I don’t know where the farm is.” Grian lied, hoping the blatantly obvious higher octave to his voice didn’t give him away, “Scar hid it and didn’t tell me where.”
Joel pursed his lips, eyes seeming to bore into Grian’s soul. It was honestly a bit scary, the way he seemed to radiate intimidation. Or hate. Or maybe both.
“Well then call him to the base.” Joel finally said, “He is your soulmate.”
Grian chuckled nervously, rubbing his thumb against the handle of his blade, “Yeah, well, about that… we aren’t exactly on the greatest of terms.”
“Like a Pearl and Scott situation?”
“... Sort of?”
Joel groaned, rubbing his hand up and down his face, pulling it down in a kind of thoughtful frustration, “Man, we can’t get anything done right, can we?”
Hesitantly, Grian sheathed his weapon, “Uh, sorry, I guess? I mean, the sugar cane really could be anywhere at this point. Scar was never really the most reliable soulmate…”
“As if you’d’ve given me the sugar cane if you had known where it was or not.” Joel said with a small shrug, “Knowing Scar, though, he’s probably hidden it in either an extremely obvious place or one that would get him killed the next time he tried to get to it.”
Grian scrunched up his nose, “I hope not.”
A few moments of silence passed between the two, before Joel let out a sigh.
“Well, I suppose this was a total bust. For the most part.”
Grian’s fingers hovered over the handle of his sword, “For the most part, huh?”
Joel smiled, and the smile, at first glance, very well could have been mistaken for friendliness.
“Etho.”
In the few moments after the name left Joel’s mouth, the whole room had descended into chaos. Swords had been pulled, glinting in the light that streamed in through the gaping hole in the ceiling above, a spotlight for a warzone below. Etho swung, diamond blade clashing against Grian’s own weapon. Grian managed to slide away for a second and snatch his shield from the ground, holding it up defensively as Etho continued to slice and chop. Slice, dodge, jab, block, swing, clash. Over and over.
An arrow zinged, lodging itself into Grian’s shoulder. A cry escaped his lips, wings flapping, feathers falling to the ground. He whipped around, blocking another arrow from Joel with his shield, and jumped back before Etho managed to slice him with his sword. A bit of the blade nicked his wing, and blood spilled onto the ground. Grian hissed in pain.
Stumbling back a bit more, he held up his sword, “I can ban both of you.” He huffed, “Ban you both for,” Another heavy breath, “for PVP.”
“How much health are you on?” Etho asked, raising his sword to Grian once again.
Grian glared at him, then reached up and began to tug at the arrow plunged into his shoulder. Blood trickled onto his fingers and he suppressed any audible expressions of pain as the arrow eventually gave, leaving a bloody gash in his shoulder.
“Think he might be weak enough.” Joel said.
Grian dropped the arrow, hand pressed against his wound to stop the bleeding (would Scar just fix himself up already? ), “What do you mean by that, Joel?”
“Etho… you think if we grab him, Scar’ll do something?”
Etho furrowed his brows and Grian’s heart dropped into his stomach. Oh. Oh no. He had messed up, seriously bad. Because if Etho and Joel were on the same page…
Grian made a dash for the door.
“JOEL!” Etho shouted.
The world fell into slow motion as Grian sprinted towards the door, wishing, urging his wings to do something. But what was he thinking? Those things were clipped. Clipped and useless. Dust from the dirt excuse for a floor kicked up under his feet. He reached the door, nearing the outside, an escape-
An arrow plunged into his side. He sucked in a breath, coughed, coughed blood. He stumbled a bit, stunned. Whing! Another arrow had found itself dug into the area above his pectoral and he was beginning to wonder how crimson was able to stain a red sweater.
He shook the shock off, ready to sprint through the pain (and track down Scar and practically scream at him for not trying to fix himself up) when an arm locked around his neck. He dropped his sword and his shield fell from his arm in the attack. He hacked, gasping for breath, and the arm loosened, allowing air to fill his lungs. A hand reached down and yanked the arrow out of his pectoral. Grian sucked in a scream.
“Yikes. Sorry Grian.” Joel said, dropping the arrow, “I didn’t exactly expect it to get so… bloody. ”
Grian shot a glare at both Joel and Etho, struggling to get loose from Joel’s near chokehold, “You’re both lucky I haven’t banned you yet!”
“Right.” Etho said, eyes darting away.
“You still have that rope on you, yeah, Etho?” Joel asked as he fought against Grian’s struggling.
Etho held up a finger, “Wait, I think…” He turned around, likely rummaging through his inventory, before pulling out a thick rope, knotted like how one might tie a shoe, “Think fast, Joel.”
Etho tossed the rope and with Joel’s other hand, he caught it. Grian started kicking, slamming his feet down in hopes of stomping Joel’s toes or knocking him unsteady. But Grian’s head was swimming. And his side was warm and sticky and the arrow was still plunged in deep. Scar would heal himself eventually, right? Preferably he would heal himself right now, but if Pearl had had any influence on him…
Joel grabbed the arrow and pulled it out of Grian’s side, right then. A gasp escaped Grian at the pain, and newer blood trickled down his side. More shades of deep crimson.
Then Joel grabbed his wrists and, with the rope handed to him by Etho, started knotting it around them. Grian struggled against it, and in turn received a smack to the wound in his side. A low hiss of air escaped him at the pain and he looked over to Etho, glowering.
“I… didn’t expect it to really go this way. Sorry?” Etho said.
When Joel was finished with Grian’s hands, he let go, and Grian stumbled forward. His side stung, his shoulder ached, the pain of his upper torso was now going numb from his brain trying to process all the pain going on at once. His ears rung, the world seemed displaced.
And then suddenly, the stinging felt… kinder. Explaining how the healing process felt within this world was difficult. Words alone could never truly explain the strange sensation as your other half began to patch themself up, clean the wounds, and stitch them back until the flesh connected again. Scar was not perfect, not with healing and not with stitches, but as he stopped the blood flow that Grian was currently unable to, and sewed the wounds back together, the world began to feel less out of place.
Joel grabbed Grian again, this time by the arms, and held him in place. Grian squirmed, fighting against Joel’s grip as he felt his body heal with his soulmates. Joel landed a quick elbow to his chest, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. The healing paused – Scar had felt it too.
“What exactly is your plan here?” Etho asked, approaching the two.
Joel grinned, “Pull out that cloth from earlier Etho. Now, if Scar knows the location of the sugar cane, if we snatch up his soulmate…”
Oh. No. Oh Grian had seriously, severely screwed up. He had thrown Scar under the bus… and now he was going to suffer the consequences.
Etho rummaged in his pocket a moment before pulling out a piece of cloth. He held it up and Joel locked his free arm through Grian’s bound ones, grabbing the cloth from Etho’s hand. Etho let out a sigh – of what, Grian was unsure, but he knew none of this would end well. At all.
“Look!” Grian started, “Look, I- you won’t-”
Before he could finish his sentence, his admittance to the lies, to his second (oh gods ) betrayal of Scar, Joel shoved the piece of cloth into Grian’s mouth. He coughed, tried to push it out with his tongue, but Joel had released his arms, and was now knotting the cloth around the nape of his neck.
“Grian said that he and Scar weren’t on good terms though.” Etho said as Joel finished tying the gag, “He might not come. Besides, the guy has a lotta faith in Grian in… some aspects. He’ll just think, ‘oh, he’ll get away just fine’. I dunno about this Joel.”
Grian wanted to agree with Etho, maybe pop in with a little retort, but his words were muffled into a jumbled up mess. He never realized just how much saliva he produced, actually. Not until now.
Joel ruffled up Grian’s hair, which resulted in some weak, muffled yelling, “Eh, Scar will come and get him eventually. We just gotta play our cards right, get under his skin. You know how fixated he gets on the enchanters.”
Etho hummed in thought, “Yeah, yeah. Yeah I get it. Stubborn as hell, when he fixates on something he’s gonna get it.”
“Maybe if we can get him worried about Grian…” Joel continued, planting his hand on Grian’s shoulder, “Then he’ll come around, try and be all hero of the server, and then we can have him in our hands too. Sooner or later he’ll spill.”
Etho’s eyes darted over to Grian, scanned him, then turned back to Joel. They say you can tell a lot about a person through their eyes – their personality, their thoughts, their intentions. None of that was very true for Etho and it unnerved Grian, clawed an anxiety into his gut. How he could he figure Etho out when his eyes told Grian nothing and half his face was always covered by that mask that stupid mask-
“Okay. Let’s try.” Etho said.
Oh, Grian was horribly, royally screwed.
Joel grabbed Grian from behind, shaking him by the shoulders, “Now let’s get you home, why don’t we!”