Chapter Text
“So… he doesn’t know?”
Grian exhaled hard through his nose, eyes fixed on the patch of dirt between his boots. “Nope. Said he doesn’t even care about finding his soulmate.”
Joel let out something between a laugh and a groan—pity disguised as amusement. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was,” Grian muttered.
There was a beat of silence, and when Grian glanced up, Joel was staring at him with a softness Grian hadn’t earned. Eyebrows drawn in, mouth pressed into something solemn. “Are you going to tell him?”
Grian followed Joel’s gaze toward the top of the mountain, where Scar had disappeared what felt like forever ago. The sun was setting behind it now, casting that golden glow Scar always said made everything look magical. Grian hated how he noticed that.
He wanted to tell him. Of course he did. But there was a stupid, gnawing voice in the back of his head whispering what if Scar already knows and just doesn’t care? What if this is all one big cosmic joke, and Scar’s in on it?
Scar wasn’t cruel, but he was unpredictable. And Grian didn’t like gambling with his heart.
He shrugged instead. “He has to figure it out eventually.”
Joel nodded slowly. “I guess so. I wish you both luck. You may need it.”
He jogged off, calling after Etho like the world was simple and fair. Like his soulmate wasn’t miles away, probably setting something on fire, unaware—or worse, unbothered.
Grian stood still. The wind blowing back his hair.
It must be nice , he thought bitterly, to have a soulmate who actually cares.
He didn’t mean to follow Scar. Not really. His legs just started moving. But with every step, his thoughts got louder.
What if he’s avoiding me on purpose?
What if he knows it’s me and doesn’t want it to be?
What if he hates me?
Grian blinked hard, dragging a hand through his hair. That was stupid. Scar didn’t hate anyone. He was just—Scar. Scatterbrained. Distracted.
And yet, somehow, Grian’s chest still ached.
If anything , he thought darkly, I should be the one trying to escape him.
“Grian!”
The voice tore through the woods like a lightning strike—booming, breathless, unmistakably Scar.
Grian turned so fast he nearly tripped over a root. And there he was: bounding toward him, hair windswept, arms flailing like he’d just barely escaped death. Again.
“Grian, I’m so glad I found you!” Scar panted, skidding to a stop. “Cleo is totally trying to steal my allay!”
Grian blinked, catching up with the words. He looked past Scar’s shoulder, but there was only the quiet stretch of trees behind him. No Cleo. No allay. No immediate crisis.
“…Right,” Grian said slowly. “And where exactly are they?”
“Back at the edge of the forest,” Scar replied, gesturing vaguely. “But that’s not the point.”
Grian narrowed his eyes. “Okay, follow-up: where have you been? Do you even have a base yet?”
Scar raised his hands defensively, grinning. “Whoa there, buddy, slow down. Let’s not get lost in the logistics. To answer your questions: forest entrance, looking for a base spot, and—nope! No base.”
Grian groaned and rubbed his temples. “Then why, exactly, did you come to me with this very minor issue?”
Scar gasped, utterly scandalized. “Hey! My allay is not a ‘minor issue.’ In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s my soulmate.”
Grian stared at him. “You’ve imprinted on a tiny floating music goblin.”
“Exactly!” Scar beamed.
Grian crossed his arms, unimpressed. “So what do I have to do with this?”
“Well,” Scar began, eyes wide with sincerity, “when Cleo went all snatchy on my allay, I ran away. But then I realized this was too important to ignore. So I thought, ‘Who better to protect me than Grian!’ You know, since you’ve been following me around all day. ”
Grian’s breath caught.
So he noticed?
He wasn’t just… wandering, oblivious? He knew ?
And still hadn’t—?
Grian’s heart thudded once, too loud in his chest. He blinked. “You noticed that?”
“Of course I did! You’re, like, always behind a tree or a rock or crouching suspiciously in the tall grass. I thought it was just part of your brand.”
Grian opened his mouth. Closed it. There was nothing in the entire world that could’ve prepared him for that answer.
Before he could recover, Scar was already tugging at his sleeve.
“C’mon! Let’s go reclaim my soulmate before Cleo builds a tiny fence and traps them forever.”
Grian let himself be dragged. Because of course he did.
—--------------
“Alright, Cleo,” Scar said, puffing out his chest, “I am willing to trade you three raw porkchops, a cursed pair of gold boots, and a firm handshake for my allay.”
“Oh, you are desperate,” Cleo snorted. “What else you got?”
As Scar launched into a full-blown negotiation (“What if I throw in a saddle? A name tag? My eternal gratitude?”), Grian quietly drifted to where Scott leaned against a tree, watching the chaos with mild amusement.
“Are you and Cleo paired?” Grian asked, mostly to make conversation.
Scott shook his head. “Nope. I’m soulbound to Pearl.”
Grian blinked. “Oh.”
“But she’s insane,” Scott added cheerfully, “so I’m keeping my distance.”
“Fair.”
There was a beat of silence. Then:
“But… you and Scar?”
Grian shifted. He didn’t know why the question made his throat feel tight.
“Yeah,” he said. “Apparently.”
Scott gave him a sideways glance. “He doesn’t know, does he?”
Grian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No. He said he doesn’t care about the soulmate thing. Thinks it’s just… flavor.”
Scott hummed. “And you?”
Grian didn’t answer right away. He was too focused on Scar, now holding up a suspiciously half-broken music disc like it was a sacred offering. Grian had watched him nearly walk off a cliff earlier. He’d circled back to keep Scar from starving. He knew his movement patterns better than his own by now.
“...It’s part of the game,” Grian said finally, voice quiet. “That’s all.”
Scott didn’t respond. Not directly. He just tilted his head a little and smiled in that knowing way that made Grian want to punch something soft.
“You know,” Scott said, “it doesn’t mean anything, until it does.”
Grian frowned. “That’s not helpful.”
“Isn’t it?” Scott asked, too casually. “I mean… if it’s just the game, why are you out here playing bodyguard instead of building your base? Why’d you get quiet when I brought him up?”
Grian’s mouth opened. Closed. He didn’t have an answer. Or maybe he didn’t want to say it out loud.
Scott shrugged, unbothered. “Soulmates or not, people always show you what they care about. Sometimes they’re just the last ones to realize it.”
“...That also isn’t helpful.”
Scott grinned. “I try.”
Before Grian could come up with a retort, Scar came bounding over, triumphant.
“She took the deal!” he shouted, holding the allay above his head like it was a trophy. “Grian! Our little blue child is free!”
Grian blinked. “ Our what?”
Scar beamed. “Well, I can’t be a single dad. That’s no life for an allay.”
Scott bit back a laugh.
Grian tried very hard not to feel anything.
He failed.