Chapter Text
The arrival of the 9 people was greeted with chaos. Not unwelcome chaos, but chaos all the same. Xisuma had told every hermit that they’d been found and were returning, but despite their reassurance that they told everyone to not overwhelm the group, the hermits still seemed incredibly relieved that they actually entered the world. No one seemed to realize the somber air of the group, nor the fact that there should’ve been one more.
Xisuma had a lot of questions for the group once they’d readjusted, individually asking each player what had happened. Grian, being last, didn’t expect that Xisuma would have been told this little by anyone else; he thought that someone might have decided to tell the entirety of what had happened, secrets and all.
However, upon going in, he was just greeted by the comfy office space Xisuma had set up, imitating every single workspace Grian had known them to build down to a t- the couch was different, but that was about the only thing that had changed over the four seasons he’d been here.
The questions were simple- Where were you? Why would the Watchers decide to do this? How the hell did Joel manage to get a car in the outerworlds?
Arguably, the worst one was saved for last. Xisuma seemed almost pained to ask, but they steeled themself.
“Can you tell me what happened to Scott? ”
It caught him off guard, and Grian didn’t know what to say. He knew what happened- they all did, to some extent- and how. And he possibly knew a bit of the why. But did he want to say?
“....The watchers killed him, using Jimmy as a pawn. And I wasn’t fast enough to stop it,” He settled on, voice breaking even as he whispered. Because that was the truth. If he’d realized sooner, had realized the Watchers were in the clearing with Jimmy even before they spotted the group…. If he’d just flown faster to break the circle of runes, the starborn would be sitting somewhere on hermitcraft, chatting with people even if they didn’t remember the games, and by extension, him. If he’d only-
“Grian, it’s not your fault. you know that, right?” Xisuma’s voice broke him out of his spiral, and Grian felt the feathers in his hands pulling from his wings. He let go, combing through them to try and straighten the feathers, and sighed.
“It’s been a long couple of weeks.” And it had been- even longer than it’d been on Hermitcraft. The watching void was notoriously tricky with time. Xisuma nodded, going back to typing things onto a screen they’d pulled up. The watcher absently tugged at the crooked feathers of his wing as silence fell over the room again. Luckily, Martyn seemed to notice as he walked in only moments later, and pulled Grian’s hands away from his wings like a habit, not saying a word.
“Xisuma, I’m going to bring G back to his base. He needs some rest.” The listener said, pulling Grian up from the couch.
“Alright. Goodnight, you both. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Grian fell into step with Martyn, who was still without an elytra despite being offered. Which meant they were walking back to his base at the mountain. His base had been left stagnant while he was gone, and Grian couldn’t even hope his shops weren’t sold out. He started making a mental to-do list of what he needed to accomplish in the morning, when he nearly walked into Martyn.
“What is-”
“Shh!” Martyn hissed, ducking behind a tree and dragging the ex-watcher with.
After a minute, Grian sighed.
“There’s nothing there. Nothing but us and a couple of skeletons for 50 blocks.”
Martyn relaxed after a moment more, restarting their walk back to the mountain.
“Could’ve sworn I heard something. Like a voice.”
“Nothing around us is able to speak except us,” Grian pointed out. “And neither of us said anything.”
“I thought it sounded like-” Martyn paused. Sighed. Cleared his throat.
“I thought it sounded like Scott.”
Before Grian could say anything, he mumbled, “I know he’s… gone, I know.”
The rest of the way back to Grian’s base was silent, the stars overhead blinking in and out, ever present yet never staying the same.