Chapter Text
“Scar, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”
I could hear Grian’s voice fading as my chest rise and fell with a strange chuckle. It rose, and then it fell. It didn’t rise anymore. I heard a ring and saw a bright purple light, the desert erased from my vision. Strange chuckles and voices wrapped around me like whispers.
“What a fight.”
“Tch. A fight? More like a sacrifice. He held back so many punches.”
“Well, Grian delivered what we wanted. Never mind the lack of quality.”
“He finally obeyed our order. Took him long enough.”
Who are you?
“Ah, he’s still awake. Best make sure he falls asleep. We need you to be at your best for the next game.”
The next…?
I couldn’t finish my thought before a darkness overtook me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I woke up, I was in a misty version of the desert. A translucent form of Pizza nudged me awake.
“What is it? Do you want to take me somewhere?”
Pizza grunted and nudged me harder, then lowered down to help me get on.
“Alright, alright! I’ll get on,” I chuckled as I pulled myself up on the colorful saddle and laid my cane on my lap.
A familiar castle emerged on the horizon.
I sighed. “Home.”
Pizza maneuvered up the hill and stopped at the door. The light coming inside the house was warm and yellow and welcoming, bidding me to enter. Cautiously, I opened the door and looked for any pressure plates hidden on the ground, but there were none to be found.
A familiar meow echoed from a hallway somewhere in the castle, and a spectral cat peeked around the corner, then strutted up to me and rubbed against my legs. The cat’s fur was a familiar gray and white that made me smile. I somehow picked up the specter, and she looked at me with her big eyes.
“Hi, Jellie,” I said, nuzzling her nose. “How did you get here?”
I gently placed Jellie on the ground. She took a few steps, then looked back at me expectantly, her tail curved like a question mark.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I gripped my cane and followed Jellie up, up, up the staircase, all the way to the balcony outlooking the desert. I took a moment to catch my breath, putting my hands on my knees.
Jellie meowed from out on the balcony. I looked up and saw her rubbing herself against a different pair of legs. My eyes trailed up, processing the brown pants, the sand-colored poncho over a red sweater, and eventually, the wings and fluffy brown hair.
My cane clattered to the floor, and I staggered over.
“Grian?” I breathed.
“Hi, Scar.”
My breath caught in my throat as Grian pulled out some flowers from behind his back: lilacs and poppies.
“I’m sorry.” Grian said, handing the flowers to me. “Friends?”
I took the flowers. They looked like they would fall apart at any given moment, yet I clutched onto them like a rope connecting me to the present.
I smiled. “We never stopped being friends.” Grian and I pulled each other into a hug, warm and safe and comforting. I heard the whoosh of feathers as he spread his wings and wrapped his wings around us. It added another layer of warmth to the hug.
“Why are you here? How?”
“I…couldn’t live with myself. I couldn’t live without you. I had to see you again, and this is the only way I knew how.”
“But you won. That’s a good thing, right?”
Grian let go and glanced at the ground, his wings drooping. “...I’m not so sure.”
“Winners get a prize for winning. That’s kinda the whole point!”
More silence.
Grian exhaled. “It’s not a prize as much as it is a burden.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“Do you remember?”
“What? Of course I remember! Remember what, exactly?”
“Scar, look around you. What do you see?”
I looked around and saw…
“Nothing. Just space. Is that what I’m supposed to see?”
Grian locked eyes with me, his eyes shining with tears.
“Grian, what’s wrong?”
“Do you remember what was here before?”Grian’s voice was weak, tired, threaded with the threat of sobs.
I thought for a while, but nothing came to mind.
“Was anything here before?”
Grian turned around, his winged back to me. His shoulders shuddered, then came to a neutral position.
“Was that the wrong answer, Grian—”
“No, Scar. Nothing was ever here.”
He took off in a flurry of feathers, leaving me alone. I laid on the invisible ground, staring into the depths of the cosmos surrounding me. I imagined Jellie coming through the space, and she appeared, rubbing up against my legs before climbing on my chest, settling down, and purring. I stroked her and let my hand rest on her chest. Then, I picked her up and looked into her eyes.
In a baby voice, I cooed: “Well, you’ll always be here, won’t you, Jellie?”
Jellie meowed.
“Well, let’s see what we can build in this place.”
Then, my body went weak.
“Sorry, Jellie…guess the building will have to wait until I’m awake.”
I let my eyes close, Jellie still laying on my chest and purring.
“Thasa good kitty…”
Then, darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was standing atop a grassy hill with a group of my friends. What a strange place to have woken up in! But I was grateful for the company.
“Welcome to Last Life,” Grian said to everyone, looking up in the sky as if addressing an audience hidden in the heavens.
What is Last Life? And why do I have this weird feeling of déjà vu?
I suddenly heard the ticking of a clock, then saw a number appear before me, floating in thin air. It was cycling through the numbers of 2-6 at random intervals as Grian’s voice rang out once more: “Each of us will be assigned a random amount of lives. You can have as little as two lives and as many as six lives.”
Six lives! I wonder who will get six lives…
The number floating in the air in front of me slowed down, the number 6 flickering, lingering, until…
The number 6 in front of me didn’t change.
“Oh, my gosh.” I lowered my voice to a whisper, talking to myself. “I got 6 lives?! That’s crazy…”
Numbers were being cried out from all around me. I could pick out Jimmy’s outraged cry of “TWO?! NO WAY!” Everyone else had a tamer reaction compared to Jimmy’s.
We all glanced at each other, then all started running in different directions to scout out our new world. As I was maneuvering through the forest as quickly as I could with my cane, I heard a voice behind me:
“Scar?”
I knew exactly who was talking to me before I even turned around.
I stopped and turned around. “Yes, Grian?”
“Would you be willing to give me one of your lives?”
I quickly glanced at my wrist, a projection of all the players and their colorated life count hovering in front of me. Grian was one of the unfortunate few who was already on yellow. My name was a deep, dark, calming green.
“ I don’t see why not,” I said. “How do I…?”
Grian came over to me, examining and watching me like I was a curious specimen. It looked like he was trying to figure it out, too.
“I think you just…gift or give it to me?”
My voice rumbled in my throat as I focused on how I could do it. My hands came to rest over my pulsing heart, and I immediately knew what to do. I uncovered my heart and tried to pull a life out with my hands while pushing it out. The intense effort made it difficult to give someone a life unintentionally. There, cupped in my scarred hands, was a glowing green heart—the cartoonist's version, mind you, not the anatomically correct version—that emitted a calming green light. Grian’s eyes dilated, and he reached out for the heart slowly. He looked up at me for a split second, but I could see a tsunami of emotions wash over him before he grabbed the heart.
A sharp ache pierced me to my core, and I no longer felt safe or comfortable. I still had five lives, but giving one away had taken some of my mental and physical strength with it. I felt weaker, more vulnerable. And strangely enough, another feeling stuck out: déjà vu.
Wouldn’t I remember if something like this happened before? I looked at Grian. Grian looked up at me.
“Thank you, Scar! Oh, how many lives did you get?”
Not thinking twice, I said: “Six.”
“Six?! Really?! Well, then, I’m not giving this life back.”
Grian then took off, running through the woods.
I was breathless, panting heavily as I tried to keep up. “You-you rascal! Get back here!”
I tried to keep up with him, but I was too slow. Before too long, Grian’s trademark red sweater had disappeared into the thick, verdant green of the forest.
“You-you…” I had to catch my breath. I sighed in frustration. Some part of me wanted to keep following him, to team up with him, though I didn’t know why. Dejected, I looked around me and saw a towering mountain.
“Ah, that’ll be a good place to settle down!” I put my hands on my hips, quite pleased with myself.
I made my way to the mountain, keeping my eyes focused on the peak. At the top of the mountain, I fashioned a house out of the little materials I had, stacking and shaping dirt until it looked like a decent house.
“Well, it’s not pretty, but it has a beautiful view,” I said, looking out over the land.
“Now, let’s find some friends!”
I started clambering down the mountain and was startled by a voice:
“Hello, Scar!”
“Oh-oh-oh-oh!” I exclaimed in surprise.
I saw Joel peeking out from a carved-in space on the side of the mountain.
“Hi, Joel,” I breathed, catching my breath again. “Wha-what brings you here?”
“Oh, is this your home?”
“Yeah, I settled at the top.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about me fighting you for your land. I’m too terrified to make my way up to the top of the mountain.”
“Good to know,” I nodded. “Hey, do you want to be friends? We can be chaotic together…”
Joel nodded. “Sure, yeah!”
“Great! I’m going to go find more friends!” I took off, waving Joel goodbye.
I came across Mumbo in the forest, and we were heading back to Magical Mountain to finish a base. I couldn’t have been happier! Even if I just had one person with me, I knew it was better than going it alone. Some part of me couldn’t help but wonder where Grian was. I knew Grian and Mumbo were a force to be reckoned with in Hermitcraft, so maybe I could get him to join us.
“Oh, hello, Grian,” said Mumbo.
I turned around and saw Grian in the midst of the trees.
Grian lowered his voice. “Mumbo, you should join me. You don’t need to be with Scar.”
I was offended and scoffed. “Mumbo, I’ll give you more redstone if you come with me.”
Mumbo looked at me, then back at Grian expectantly.
“I’ll give you five salmon,” offered Grian, pulling out some fish. I could hear the smirk in his voice as he said: “I have sugarcane.”
I shot Grian a glare.
I looked at Mumbo. “Surely, you won’t…” I could see his eyes going back and forth between the two of us.
Silence filled the space. The tension was pulled so tight, I could’ve notched an arrow in it.
Mumbo turned his back to me and walked to Grian’s side.
“Scar, I’m sorry.”
Grian cheered. “Welcome, Mumbo!”
I let my head hang down as I walked back to Magical Mountain, dejected. Mumbo looked back at me before running off with Grian.
Some part of me wanted Grian to look back.
But he didn’t. At least, not without some ulterior motive. Once I finally had a wizard’s hut, I found him threatening me with a death loop if I didn’t give them lives. I gave them lives and made contracts with them, and yet, none of them looked back as they all made their way down the hill. I had made tentative alliances, but no one wanted to be my friend and stay by me. No one except Joel. But even then, he was at red for so long that I didn’t dare get too close to him. No matter where I went or what I did, I always seemed to be left alone at Magical Mountain. I thought I had a friend in BEST, but they just wanted to make sure I didn’t destroy their base. Ultimately, I was betrayed, ambushed by some of the very people who had made deals with me.
Everyone just wanted to use me.
And yet, I felt like there had once been someone who had wanted me, who had befriended me.
Why couldn’t I remember who?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Soon after Grian gets away with Scar’s life…
I chuckled as I ran through the forest, and I let my small wings spread out, allowing me to glide a small distance before I kept running. I didn’t know how long I ran for, just until I couldn’t hear Scar’s voice. Once I was sure that I was by myself, I let the smile fall.
Glowing purple eyes surrounded me, floating in the air. I scowled.
A voice came, making my head ache.
“ You should team up with him. It was fun to watch last winter. Why not do it again? ”
“Go away!” I waved my hand, and the eyes blinked and disappeared.
“Stupid Watchers…” I muttered, under my breath.
I let myself reminisce for a moment. I allowed myself to think back to the desert, to a simpler time. I remembered Pizza, the siege, the Science Bros, the cactus ring, that punch that broke my fist and my heart. I remembered everything.
And Scar remembered none of it.
I couldn’t allow myself to get close to him again. I didn’t want to have to retread the ground of friendship. So I wouldn’t.
I would try to establish a monopoly with Mumbo instead of Scar. I would visit and threaten Scar when I was on my last life and he had enough lives to give me and my friends. I would let him come and visit my base, although it inadvertently led to him being red. I would team up with him at the end, when we were both red. But I wouldn’t stay with him. The pain of him not remembering was too much.
And then, I saw the message in chat: GoodTimeWithScar was shot by Rendog.
I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to crumple to the ground and cry or if I ought to breathe a sigh of relief.
So when Joel and I were running through the forest, trying to get away with our last life, and I collapsed from a hit from Scott’s diamond sword, death felt welcoming.
No longer tethered to my body, I wandered the world, taking in the Southlands. All the terrible puns we lAHAghed at echoed through my mind. I turned around and took in the tall mountain, looming over the land like a reminder of all that had been lost. The mountain’s two sole inhabitants were both dead. The wizard’s hut crowning the peak was destroyed, its purpose left unfulfilled. Instead of being a place of commerce, it had become a place of threats and destruction. Everyone had come into the games with their own goals in mind, starting out with their own distinct character traits, having fun, only for the games to twist and break them into a different version of themselves. At the end, that was all that remained of the winner: a broken, beaten-down husk of themselves.
At least, that’s how I felt.
If Scar—or anyone else, for that matter—remembered, would I be less broken?