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Scar tried to ignore it.
He really tried.
Scar tried to ignore the bellow of thunder that roared through the clouds. He tried to ignore the flash of lightning from the corner of his eye. He tried to ignore the deafening silence piercing through his ears. He tried to ignore the dread crawling in his gut and the ever growing pit in his stomach for every second that passes without Pearl in sight.
Scar tried to pretend she’s still here, that she's still alive and breathing, but when faced with Pearl’s body lying there at the base of the cliff, reduced to nothing but an empty husk, perfectly still and unmoving, Scar couldn’t lie to himself any longer.
Scar didn't want to believe it.
That his arrow hit her.
That he hit her.
That he was the reason she fell off the edge.
That he killed Pearl.
But the whisper from the ghost behind him tells Scar all he needs to know.
She’s dead Scar
You won
The words gnaw against his skin. They were muttered into his ear quietly, no louder than the soft hush of the wind, yet it rings in his ears. The demons that infest the abandoned crevasses of his head chant the line endlessly like a curse.
She's dead
She's dead
She's dead.
Scar should be happy.
He won.
Isn’t this what he wanted?
And yet, he doesn't celebrate, doesn't smile, doesn't cheer. Instead, Scar tries to move himself closer to Pearl's resting body, quietly tip-toeing through the grass as to not make a sound.
Why quietly? She can't hear anything anymore. What's the point?
She's dead, Scar.
But still, Scar continues.
He doesn't know why, but there's some part in the corners of his heart; a small, clinging thread of foolishness, some tiny shred of humanity still lingering despite the all consuming red haze that beckons for him to take, to destroy, to kill, there’s still some part deep inside of him that feels as though the site should be respected, as if there's something almost sacred about her resting place.
Scar's eyes soften when they meet Pearl's face. There's a lifeless white blanketing her skin with her sleeping eyelids as gentle as a daffodil petal sitting on the quiet water's edge. Her lips are slightly parted, not curled up, not frowning, just neutral.
He wonders what face Pearl made when she was falling.
Was it surprise, because she didn't think the arrow would make it?
Was it fear, overcome with the sudden realisation that she was about to die?
Was it relief, a comfort to know that she didn't have to fight anymore?
Or maybe, was it happiness, the taste of death she begged so desperately from Scar's hands finally within her grasp.
Whatever it was, Scar would never know.
He didn't look back.
Pearl called out to him, a desperate cry stumbling from her lips, a plea for Scar to look at her one last time, and he didn't listen.
Her last words were for Scar, and he didn't listen.
He's not entirely sure which is crueler, the fact he took Pearl's life, or that he didn't have the decency to witness her final moment.
The sight of Pearl's lifeless face unsettles him. A dull expression doesn't suit Pearl, Scar thinks. She was meant to fill the empty silence, not be a part of it.
She was meant to be around people, to dance in a crowd who adores her, playing into silly bits, chuckling at the new tasks, wild and free in her steps as she blessed the sunflower fields with her presence.
There was always something special about Pearl, Scar couldn't help but admire everything about her.
He loved her laugh, a cackle that was as loud as it was infectious. Every string of Scar's heart couldn't help but be bowed and plucked to the whims of the lovely melody. He loved Pearl's voice, the words that escaped her lips were as warm as a delicate bonfire, her adoration for the people around her bleeding through each breath and syllable she spoke. He loved her smile, it had a glow so bright the sunflowers couldn't help but look at her like she was their sun.
It's funny, Pearl's name is derived from the moon, yet she sometimes feels more like the sun. No— Pearl is far more dazzling than the sun could ever be. How could she not with the way she brung life into everything she does, her boundless positivity shining like a beacon, her love cascading onto the ones most precious to her. Being loved by her is like being hit with the gorgeous golden rays of sunlight, a brilliant glimmer that makes anyone who basks in it shine like diamonds.
Not to say she didn't belong underneath the grace of the night sky, Pearl looked perfect there too. She danced under the star like they were her spotlight, but she was so dazzling even the stars themselves couldn't help but feel dim before her majesty, essence of elegance, a captivating performance impossible to the very essence of elegance, no-one can escape from becoming captivated by the sight. Especially on red.
Oh what a beauty she was when she was red, free from her fears, her worries. Just Pearl and her bloodlust. There was a hunger that glistened in her eyes when she spotted her prey. Scar loved how Pearl's grin stretched from ear to ear until she's nothing but gnashing teeth and wicked laughter. Pearl has always looked better when her smile was stained by scarlet.
But Scar would be a fool if he only thought of Pearl as nothing more than a weapon. No, what drawn Scar to Pearl the most was her kindness. She never pushed away another player when they needed help, she welcomed enemies and allies alike into her base with the same hospitality as she would a dear friend. She'd listen to the sorrows of her friends without a second thought, she'd never laugh at someone's pain, would never mock them. What's strangest of all, was that Pearl's kindness was so unconditional that she was even willing to reach out a hand to the broken villain who had nothing left to lose. She saw the monster, the broken shambles of a person, the coward who shone themselves away from the server, and still chose to give him her hand.
…
Scar's heart hadn't been the same since that day. Sometimes, he wonders if he should have tried to reach out to take Pearl's hand, like she once did.
Oh what would she have said?
Would she have been disgusted? No, no she would have been okay with it, happy even.
Scar tries to hold her hand now, carefully sliding his fingers between Pearl's own as if her hands are made of delicate glass, so fragile that even the slightest brush against the skin would be enough to shatter it. Pearl's hands are cold, Scar notes. It's not as cold to leave his hands sore like the buckets of powdered snow shared between them once did, but it's a familiar sting. Hollow, but familiar.
He thinks about what Pearl's hands would have felt like if she was still alive. Something warm and gentle perhaps, fingers intertwined with each other like perfect puzzle pieces, held together only by their matching wounds and a fleeting hope to survive.
Scar thinks about what would have happened if he decided to reach out sooner. If he told Pearl these bubbling feelings, if he chose to join Pearl before the world crumbled beneath them. Maybe he would have been accepted by the Mounders, learn what it was like to have friends he can rely on without the constant threat of a secret task brandished against his neck. Maybe Pearl would visit him in the sunflower fields, they could talk about the shop and his wares, or the tasks. They could set up a picnic where they share bread and berries and gaze up at the cloud that pass by, trying to decipher a familiar image from the strange shapes. Something mundane, something simple, just the two of them. He'd take Pearl's hand into his own and let himself steal her breath away with an impulsive kiss, messy and fleeting but just long enough that he can taste the sweetness the berries on her lips and feel the warmth of her laugh against his skin.
But Scar doesn't deserve to fantasise, he's the only one to blame for not getting the chance to live the life he wanted, he was the coward who never took his chance to be someone better. Pearl was the most beautiful thing that ever graced this server, and he was just the monster who stole her away from the world.
She's dead Scar
But his feelings for her still live on in his heart.
You won
But he lost the most important person in his life.
Task successful
Yet why does it feel like he failed?
But there's nothing he can do now, he killed her, the game is over, so he has to live with this guilt for the rest of his life.
The world holds its breath for a few more moments before Scar finally breaks the silence by whispering something into Pearl’s ear.
“I love you.”