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Martyn awoke to the warm glow of sunshine on his face and the sounds of laughter and bickering on the breeze. He felt light getting out of bed, the weariness that usually followed him across the server seemed to finally be put to rest. He could hear the voices more clearly as he approached the door to his tower, it seemed Jimmy was going off about something or other, and Grian was taking the mick out of him.
“Now whats all this about then?”
Both boys turned to him as he stepped out if the tower and into the early morning breeze. They seemed.. clean? Which would normally feels weird to notice but after spending seven days in a eldritch horror fun house game, you tend to stop caring about the dirt that starts creeping onto everything you own. His thoughts are abruptly cut off with a high pitched whine followed shortly by, “Maaartyn, Grian wont stop bothering me about my jumper.”
Jimmy’s walked over and dramatically stepped behind Martyn like a child behind their parent.
“What, you think Im going to stop him?”
Martyn laughed, and his voice sounded happy, even through his patented dry sarcasm. He’s not sure why that bothers him.
Grian steps forward, leaning one shoulder more forward as he put his hands out in almost a placating manner
“All Im saying is that scott was definitely wearing that exact one last week, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going around forming alliances without us mister!”
He’s playful and bouncy, his movements always look like a dance, but even now he seems so graceful.
“Oh really?”
Martyn turned back to Jimmy who was looking at everything-but-his-face.
“Timmy have you been fra-ha-tanizing with the enemy?” Martyn hadn’t even fully finished his sentence before, “JAR! THATS A JAR.” as Jimmy put both hands on Martyn’s back and tried to push him towards the Jahar. Tried is the key word here as the main effect it had was making Grian delve further into a fit of giggles.
“What happened to one free one a day Jim?”
The boys looked over to see Impulse having fully emerged from his base for the morning. Martyn watches as some sort of light dings in Grians head before, “Hey Impulse, have you seen Tims new Jumper?”
“No I cant say I have, didya get a new sweater Jimmy?”
Martyn tried to stifle a laugh as he watched Jimmy bounce on the balls of his feet for a second before answering.
“.. yes..”
Jimmy looked like he was clutching onto his spyglass for life, and Martyn imagined that of he could, he would hide behind it entirely.
“you should ask him where he got it.” Impulse doesnt get a word out before the sounds of a metal spyglass coming into contact with a human skull rings out into the vally of the Southernlands, and then, “TIMMY!!”
Movement stirs next to them catching all of their attention, but Martyn is the only one to reach for a weapon.
Which he cannot find?
But then, why would he look for that in the first place?
“Oh! Oh! Martyn”
His brain felt fuzzy, like a tv screen thats been broken having black creep in at the edges. He swore he always had a sword by his side, but then what need would he have for a sword.
“Martyn?”
Timmy had maneuvered himself right in Martyn’s face. “You alright man?” His face was turned slightly, concern was bouncing from the corners of his eyes to his brows.
“Yeah, m..Yeah I’m alright.” He pushed out, the words felt hot and sticky on his tongue like he wasn’t supposed to be saying them.
“Look, look! Mumbls doing his intro”
“Oh yeah, sorry sorry yeah absolutely, you ready?”
“Yes?!?” Jimmy turned and called to the other two boys, “IMPULSE, GRIAN, MARTYNS DOING THE INTRO”
Martyn pulled out his spyglass out from its leather strap at his side, and pointed it at the mustached man in the distance, as the faint chants of “Do It, Do it” whisked around him on the air.
“Welcome back its last life episode eight, and you know what? Turn that symbol sideways and you get a nice little infinity, theres almost something quite nice about that isnt there? Wuh.. I, stop that!”
Martyn couldn’t help himself falling into the warm blanket of his friends laughter, joining them as Mumbo looked over at them exasperated before walking over, “ I know you think you got me, but you didn’t!”
“Sure bud.” Impulse comforted him as they all laughed and took in the morning. “No because-“,
“C’mon dude, dont ta-hake us for fools now.”
“Martyn we kept Jim off your back earlier, but I think that one deserves the Jar,” Grian said through laughs and shaky breaths.
“Yeah fair- that wasn’t my best work.” Martyn turned behind him to head over to the tip jar and a blossom passed him on the wind, which was weird because it was both it was both a dark oak biome and not spring. Except- a closer a closer look at the trees showed they were budding. So it was spring. Why did he think it wasn’t? It was Summer it should be Summer, thats when the games are always held.
Martyn felt his breath hitch and his brain throb.
Games..?
If the screen was blacked out at the corners the first time, this time it cracked.
Games.
Last Life. Day Eight.
He could feel his blood pumping through his whole body, thunder started to roar in his ears. His head was throbbing. And he couldn’t breathe, but he could breathe, and his breath was hitching and clawing at him, begging to not be wasted on a machine that obviously shutting down. He felt his knees buckle and he hit the ground. In-Out-In-Out he forced every last breath down his throat. His hands were clammy and shook as he rolled himself onto his back to look at the sky.
Why hadn’t anyone come yet?
They were there? They had to have been right behind him, Jimmy and Mumbo, and Grian, and Impulse, they were all right there. They had to have seen? Did they just not care? Did they take the chance to finally just book it out before he could stop them?
His pulse started to pick up again, his thoughts racing in circles, causing his brain to riot. A sharp shooting pain shot down his spine, and he brought a hand to his face— and there was dirt under his fingernails. Thats wasn’t- but how- he couldn’t- his hands had been clean when he left his tower?
It had felt like such a big deal too, and now he cant remember why.
He moved onto his knees and stared out in front of him. He had fallen turning to the Jahar, but it wasn’t there. It should have been there, but if it wasn’t-“
Martyn scramble to his feet and turned quickly back towards Mumbo’s house, and it felt like someone had dropped a brick on his head. Mumbo and Jimmy weren’t there, neither were Impulse and Grian, but not like that. They were gone. He finally remembered.
Grian had killed them.
Sure Mumbo and Jimmy had attacked first, but they all had been bickering back and forth. Mumbo and Jimmy had ran and Grian didn’t care, he killed both of them.
Then Grian had died shortly after. He wasn’t gone, but as a red he was as good as dead to Martyn, and Impulse was MIA.
So much for the Southerners. Was it some cruel prank played on him by the universe for conspiring with the shadow clan? Why give him back everything he craved with everything he was, and then take it back.
Did it even matter?
Martyn decided that nothing mattered, not anymore. He raised a shaky hand to his face and rubbed his eyes, everything still hurt, and he felt so disoriented. Ren. Ren, he needed to find Ren. He would know what to do.
Martyn pulled his spyglass from his side. It was still mostly intact, and had been signed by the whole crew. Jimmy had signed first, big letters, valuing space over aesthetics, then Grian had signed it, wonky cursive with a talon scratch over the I instead of a dot. Grian also changed the J in Jimmy’s signature into a T. Martyn let out a soft laugh remembering how upset Jim acted about it. Those two were always at each other’s necks, but they loved each other. He could see it the carefully crafted jabs, and he felt the same way. He turned the spyglass over a little to where Mumbo had signed, small neat print around the very end. Martyn had a tendency to run his fingers over the engraving when he was nervous, he liked how the texture felt against his fingers, and he smiled thinking about how Mumbo had signed it “Your Husband” instead if his name. One final rotation and he was at Impulses, jagged and quick. Impulses signature was thoughtfully placed taking up no more space than he had deemed appropriate. Martyn knew that Impulse was not one of the normal crew he ran with, but they all just clicked so right. He wished he had had more time with him. With them all. This spyglass had felt so right, and now. It didn’t.
Martyn walked out of the gate to the Southern lands before pausing. He held the spyglass in his hand, his palms sweaty and look down at it, before holding it up to his chest and pressing it this heart for a moment. Then Martyn let it go. He let them go. Martyn tossed the spyglass into the lava pit that sat at the entrance and watched as the molten liquid sucked the metal into its depths, a piece of him forever going with it.