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Scar opened his console as Bdubs had his back turned, feigned carefree demeanor melting on a dime. How could he team up with someone who obviously was only a yes-man? There was a reason that he had entrusted Grian rather than running to someone else at any point. Bdubs was a flimsy support, if he could convince him with a piece of paper and a clock, what’s to say that Grian can’t find something else and pull Bdubs to his side instead?
Grian had stayed. Stayed long past his self-imposed servitude, helped, and schemed where Scar hadn't considered or requested.
You whispered to Grian: I have a plan
As he pressed send he heard yelling behind him.
“Traitor!”
Grian jumped from a tree, aim set on Scar. The swing, while not critical, pushed him into the pond down at the bottom of the cliff. His focus flicked to Bdubs kicking him down and getting a swing in as he fell. “Traitors, both of you!”
Bdubs pulled his crossbow out, aiming it at Grian, as Grian returned the arrows from above. Bdubs yelled as he continued to fire, attempting to cover Scar.
Not what he wanted, but it could work.
Scar pulled his sword out and slashed at Bubs from behind. A crossbow took two hands, he wouldn’t be able to hold off Scar and avoid Grian’s arrows.
With a final yelp from Bubs, Scar's sword buried deep in his gut, and then an audible poof. Uninterested in watching his body fall, he was about to search through his things when he heard Grian behind him.
He turned to Grian with his arms opened and bowed his head.
“You stabbed me in the back after all we’ve been through, after all I’ve done for you!” Grian swung at him.
Scar simply continued to bow his head, still holding his sword, but not attacking. It wasn’t fair for him to attack, he betrayed Grian, Grian should be allowed to have his revenge.
Grian stopped swinging after another, holding the blade to his throat. “How could you? Over a piece of paper! All of those nights? I-” Words too emotional for the surge of red rage died in the avian's throat. His wings were fluffed and ruffled, using the sword to move Scar’s head up. Silence. “Say something!” His voice cracked and pierced the quiet clearing, thinly veiled pain and sorrow seeping into the words.
Scar let his arms fall, as he went on his knees and he looked up and smiled sweetly at Grian, “You got me this far, you deserve to win. I betrayed you over a piece of paper, you should be allowed to kill me.”
“I…” Grian’s firm anger seemed to melt at that. The sword lowered slightly. His gaze scattered wildly at seemingly nothing, then back to Scar. “What?”
He pulled the sword to his chest, “I betrayed you. You deserve to win. I live because of your continued determination to protect me. You’re the warrior here, so take your win, I won’t hold it against you.”
“Don’t thank me for that, you-” Grian untensed his shoulders. Tears stung his eyes, torn between the rage bubbling away and heartbreak. He held the sword tightly. “I-I can’t do that, Scar.”
Scar pushed the sword against him, “You can. Take the win, Grian.”
Scar could pinpoint the moment Grian’s resolve shattered into tiny little pieces. “No, I-I can’t kill you. I can’t,” The sword clattered into the water. “I couldn’t kill you. Not like this.”
He picked up the sword from the blood-stained lake and offered it to Grian with a bowed head. “You can. We’ve both killed for less, I think it’s fitting. You were under me for so long, and now you can take the throne. A fitting end in my books.” He looked up at Grian, it looked like the sun itself was framing a halo around him, angelic. “You deserve this win.”
“No. I’m-” Grian shut his eyes tight, breathing in and out before he reopened them. “...If only one of us can be the victor, then we’re going to fight fairly. A duel. You earned your spot up here, too. Get up. I- I can’t kill you. Not like this.” His voice broke at the end, as he turned slightly.
Geez, Grian knew how to play Scar like a fiddle, didn’t he? Scar let the sword go and stood up, “I’m inclined to disbelieve, but if you want a duel we can do that.” He looked around at the pond, “This is a nice pond, huh? Pretty peaceful around here. Dying here would be nice, but I think we should do this somewhere else.” He thought for a moment. “Pizza’s grave on the mountain work?”
“Yeah.” Grian waded out of the pond. “We… we can go there. Long walk, though.”
Scar started to make his way out of the pond, “Gives us time to have a last tour of the place then as we get there right? A last hurrah before the finale.”
“Yeah,” a weak smile appeared on his face. “A last hurrah.”
The two of them walked through the server. Scar talked mostly about nothing in particular. Bdubs betrayal and feigned like of clocks, how they did it, memories, honestly, he didn’t really remember. Grian listened intently, giving comments, but was not fully committed to the conversation. His gaze flickered around in a paranoid manner, his laugh at Scar’s jokes more somber.
“So, are we thinking barehanded for this battle or with what we have on us?” Scar asked as they walked into the desert.
“Barehanded. No armor. Fist fight to the death.” Grian didn’t meet his eyes.
“Very dramatic, I like it!” Scar turned to look at Grian, “Should we make like a ring or something, you know, adding onto the theatrics?”
“Sure. A ring of fire, a ring of cacti..?”
“Ooh, I like the sound of a cactus ring. The desert boys, fist-fighting to the death in a ring of cactus. Even when we’re going to kill each other, you still have the best ideas on what to do to make it equal,” He said with a smile. Scar tried to look at Grian’s face, but it was almost as if it was blurred, cast in shadows. A shame he couldn’t see this more cheerful, he had a lovely smile.
Grian didn't meet his gaze, his face growing red. “You suggested the ring in the first place, it’s not anything extraordinary.”
As they made their way up the mountain, Grian began placing down the cacti for the ring. Scar followed, picking up a few spare pieces and making it taller so neither could make it out of the ring.
Scar put all of his equipment away as he looked at Grian who had instead elected to throw everything out.
Grian walked into the ring after throwing his things out, looking at Scar. He looked somber but determined. In a weird pained way.
Why couldn’t he have just taken the win? He deserved it. Scar frowned for a moment before burning the last of the Dogwarts banners and shields he had, followed by their enchanter.
There was a moment of silence, neither of them wanting to continue what had started and what must be carried out.
If Scar had his way, if they did not have the spectators hungry for their satisfying ending and freedom from this game, he'd stay here forever. He could look into Grian's eyes forever. They could carry so much emotion, despite looking so lifeless at first glance.
He wishes he could have one more day to sleep next to him. Wake up, and just watch. All his little ticks, their bickering.
Whatever god placed them here does not answer his wishes.
“..No matter what happens, we won together. No hard feelings, right?”
Scar smiled at him, “No hard feelings.” He raised his fists, “Don’t hold back, try to win.”
“Alright. We’ll let the ghosts count us in.” Grian raised his fists as well, pulling in his wings.
The chat counted down.
3
2
1
Fight!
The two ran at each other, fits flying, and a mix of dodges and hits. The two pushed each other into the cacti before moving out of the way to rely more on their abilities than the world for this final duel.
Despite the pain from the punches and cactus pricks, Scar smiled, and in his mind, Grian was a vision. Even if it hurt and his vision would blur, seeing blonde hair shine in the sun as it framed his face was something he was happy to see in this fight.
Grian knocked Scar out of the ring, the cacti no longer surrounding them. The two continued to fight, exchanging blows.
Of course, Scar was trying, but Grian was simply better at fighting. Scar felt his legs give out as Grian was on top of him, continuing to punch, but increasingly weaker.
“I’m sorry,” Grian’s tears welled up as his fist stayed raised and didn’t lower for a few seconds. “I’m so sorry, Scar.”
Scar looked up at Grian and smiled. Grian was beautiful, even when crying. Nothing that Scar could’ve said would’ve been good, so he simply left without any. A hand weakly reached to hold Grian’s cheek as he felt his life fade.
When he opened his eyes again, he was in front of Grian. As a ghost, he watched as soon as he breathed his last, Grian broke down sobbing. The avian cradled Scar’s body close like a lifeline.
Grian was perfect, but seeing this still hurt. Grian should’ve accepted with honor and joy, but instead, he was clutching onto the body shaking with sobs.
Scar could see the other spectators as well, now. They were all crowded around, staring at Grian.
Scar tried to hold his cheek again, but it phased through as Grian choked out sobs. Scar didn't get it. Why was he not celebrating?
He won, did he? That's what everyone wanted.
“I don’t feel good,” was the first coherent sentence Grian managed to get out. “Ugh, I don’t feel good.”
Scar attempted to hold his face, but his hand went through. Even though he wanted desperately to, he couldn’t comfort Grian in his most painful moments.
While he didn’t look up this time, Grian seemed to hear as Martyn finally said, “One life left.” Ren echoed the sentiment.
Grian looked down at the body with so many emotions Scar couldn't think he could ever describe. Grian took a deep breath in, standing up and wiping his tears.
“It was wonderful sharing these games with you all.” His gaze flickered between all the ghosts, wings finally spreading as he walked over to the edge. “It’s been amazing, folks.” He turned to not face the cliff edge.
A sickly sweet yet fake smile appeared on his tear-stained face. Black eyes glinted purple in the light, even as the sun faced the opposite way overhead. “Thank you and goodnight.”
He stepped off the edge, wings and eyes both closing.
Scar reached after him for a moment before pulling his arm back in.
He watched as Grian plummeted off the cliff.
In a bang of thunder, he hit the ground, his body lying lifeless.
Scar flew down, attempting to hold his face for a final time. He felt his heart shatter as tears finally fell from his face. He couldn’t hold his anymore.
Grian felt like a second sun in the desert, and now, he and that sun were one.
He didn’t see Grian’s ghost, so maybe he was right. Even if he couldn’t hold the now lifeless body, he could at least stay here, in this final moment before having it ripped away when he woke back up from this.
It felt like a dream, but everything was so real and he would feel every wound he would have, every time he died.
Hopefully, he would never forget this. Staying in this desert a little while longer.