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Joel’s hand was still shaking even as it held on tightly to the enderpearl. He thought of home, so close yet so far away, of the beautiful cherry blossoms cascading down the mountains, down the buildings, falling slowly to the ground. They always did look like snowflakes in Joel’s eyes, or perhaps like stars glimmering during the night.
He thought of the skyscrapers in his city, how he’d sit there and watch the sunsets and let his feet dangle mid-air. He thought of how Grian would accompany him on nights when he couldn’t sleep, and how the former would never fail to take his mind off things when his own brain seemed determined to drown him. How his head would fall on Grian’s shoulder like muscle memory, and how Grian’s wings would wrap around him like a blanket. How, without Grian, Joel can’t imagine how he would’ve managed to get by.
He thought of Grian, his best friend, who, despite everything, is always there by his side. Joel’s heart aches at the thought of him. He thinks of Grian’s gentle hands whenever he’s tending Joel’s injuries, of his warm embraces, of his fond eyes that Joel would get a glimpse of sometimes.
He thought about how, despite it all, the two of them still have so much to keep going for, to keep living for.
Their lives would never be truly tranquil, bound forever by the clutches of destiny. And it was a pursuit that they knew they could never win, a race they could never catch up to. But fate played dirty anyway, bending and twisting rules as they pleased, and so did it really matter if they held on stubbornly, rebelliously catching glimmers of respite and rest in between it all?
So Joel clutches the enderpearl and looks up at the vast darkness, thoughts of home swirling in his head. He could feel Grian squeezing his hand, grounding him.
But then—like a tower crashing, like a city crumbling—the barrier broke. Shards of it rained down that glistened like exploding stars amidst the darkness. For a silent, still moment, nobody moved. Nothing happened. Joel swears the time slowed down, and in his eyes he could almost see each individual piece of the glass-like barrier flying in the air, waiting to land.
Then came the voices. The loud, booming voices that rattled his ears, that made him fall to the ground in a heap, clutching onto anything he could find purchase at. He thought he could hear Grian beside him, saying something, but it was too loud .
He thought he could hear someone screaming, or maybe that was him. Joel couldn’t tell anymore. Everything hurt.
Everything…
…Huh?
Why was Grian looking at him like that? Why are his eyes widened in terror, in horror? Why was he holding on so tightly?
…Why was there blood on Grian’s face? And why…why did everything feel so fuzzy?
Joel glanced around, then looked down. Oh. He was bleeding. His chest was bleeding, so much that he couldn’t even see the color of his shirt anymore. When did…?
His vision shook in waves. Finally, the pain registered, slowly, spreading all the way to the tips of his fingers, and suddenly all Joel knew was the agony, the wound on his heart, the blood pouring out rapidly. Amidst his hazy mind, Joel thought he could feel a Watcher’s presence behind him. Was he the one that Joel had stabbed, who had now stabbed him back?
In hindsight, he probably should’ve seen this coming—should’ve expected it, really. How did he ever think he could attack a Watcher like that without being attacked back? It all seemed so silly now. He was in their territory, after all.
His hands hovered over the wound. His vision was filling with white dots. He was getting dizzy, and he couldn’t hear what Grian was saying anymore.
And, oh, was he going to die here, permanently, with no more lives to spare, no more immortality to save him? The abyss stares back at him through his wavering vision, through his blurry eyes—was he crying or was he just lightheaded?—as his breath gets lost somewhere in his throat. He was…going to be trapped here forever, wasn’t he? The thought scares him, more than it probably should. Because didn’t he always long for this, for this eternal sleep to claim him and let him rest? Isn’t this what he wanted?
But he sees Grian through it all, and he catches a glimpse of those worried, anguished eyes. Joel watches, exhausted and breathless, as Grian’s expression crumbles , black irises turning into bright violet, like a pair of amethysts. Joel watches, on the brink of collapse, as Grian’s wings spread all around him, all across the darkness, a pair of glowing purple feathers scattering with the wind.
Joel watches, through half-lidded eyes, as Grian’s expression turns into an anguished kind of anger, of helplessness.
“ No —!” Grian cries out, in utter and complete sorrow, and then everything crumbles all around them. The ground shook, and in a moment everything gave way. Debris fell down the endless darkness, scattering like dust. Joel’s breath catches in his throat, his hand instinctively reaching out as he falls.
I don’t want to die here.
The thought registers in his hazy, pain-muddled brain, and it’s a terrifying realization, as it is shocking. Because life is much crueler than death could ever be. But then again, death wouldn’t be awaiting him here. It was more agony, more pain, more misery for all eternity.
Joel chokes on a gasp, forcing his eyes to stay open. The wound in his chest continues to throb painfully. His injured shoulder protests with every small movement he makes. The darkness greeted him, debris falling all around the empty space. He realizes faintly that the Watchers weren’t here—he couldn’t feel their presence, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
Slowly, painfully, he scrambles mid-air, trying to find purchase on anything he could see. But there was nothing, and the terrifying possibility that he could very well be trapped here forever hit him with no warning. It claws at his heart, rattling all of his senses and overtaking even this overwhelming, blinding pain.
Let me leave—!
The words are stuck in his throat, but Joel hears the sound of his own silent shout loudly in his own ears. He says it over and over again, like a magic spell, like a broken plead—desperation clawing its way out of his beating, bleeding heart.
He raises his hand shakily as he slowly falls down the abyss. He thought he could see the light from above, or maybe that was Grian’s silhouette, shining like the sun, calling out for him.
Please. Finally, Joel feels Grian’s hand hold onto his own, a gentle, familiar touch amidst the pain. He knows he’d probably die without it, without him.
He continued to plead in his head as he raised his other hand slowly, fingers clutching onto something in his other hand—the enderpearl. Somehow, he didn’t drop it. Had he been holding onto it so tightly that it didn’t fall away?
Let me leave. Joel thinks over and over again as he feels the warm embrace of Grian’s wings over his battered, exhausted body. Let us leave.
Please, let me live.
Joel threw the enderpearl. His eyes, half-lidded and exhausted, gazes silently at Grian. Grian was saying something, tears falling down his eyes and landing on Joel’s face. Joel wanted to say something, to reassure him that he’d be fine, that they’d both be fine, but he couldn’t speak. It felt like all of his words were stuck in his chest.
He thought he heard Grian say something, so quietly he barely caught it. But despite everything, despite the pain and the fear and the uncertainty and the slow beating of his exhausted heart, Joel could’ve sworn Grian uttered something.
It sounded like: We’re going home. We’ll be okay.
And slowly, surely, the darkness gave way to a faint, flickering light.