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He bowed, “You may slay me and take the Enchanter.”
“No I can’t, no I literally can’t, I can’t do it. Can we just win together?” The other man stood still as if listening to voices only he could hear, “No, the spectators want a fight.”
“If we are to duel, can we at least do it at Pizza’s grave?”
“No armour, fists only?”
“In the circle of cactus.”
“No matter what happens, we can claim this as a double victory, right?”
3
2
1
GO
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Grian looked down at Scar. He looked more peaceful than Grian had ever seen him in the death game and, if it wasn’t for the blood splatters amongst the cactus ring behind him and the cliff around him, Grian could almost pretend he was asleep. Almost. Voices of the people who died echoed in his ears, mocking him. Luckily for Grian, Scar's voice wasn’t playing in his ears but even the sound of the allies that he betrayed and the enemies that he killed without regret pushed him over the edge. He flew up, higher and higher, attempting to escape the phantom voices but they followed him up until he could no longer see the body. The blue shimmer of the border taunted him, showing him just how helpless he truly was. As he looked down again, he accepted what he had to do to escape this hell. He tucked his wings into his body and-
He was falling down, down, down, down, down and the ground came rushing up, up, up, up, up and Scar was coming closer, closer, clos-
Until the world stilled. Grian could hear screaming, likely his own. He could feel his wings lying broken underneath him and the pool of blood steadily growing, staining the sand but it didn’t matter. The pain was detached from him as he closed his eyes and fell asleep, beside his companion, underneath Pizza’s grave, half buried in the sand.
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The bed was hard beneath as he sat up and stretched his wings. Which was odd as his wings shouldn’t be able to stretch, they were crushed underneath him. He ran his hands through the feathers, feeling the grains of sand griping to every centimetre of him, proof of his time in the desert. He felt his blood pounding in his veins, blood that should be pooling in the sand. Maybe this was heaven or, perhaps the more likely option due to the deaths he had caused, hell. He shouldn’t be surprised, but this wasn’t exactly what he expected the afterlife to be like although he had never really thought of that before. During the game he had thought about death often, as had everyone else, but hadn’t considered what was likely to happen after. He stood up and looked around the practically bare room. The walls and floor of the room were made of stone and the door was made of iron. It was lit by a singular white bulb. The bed that he had been previously lying on was grey and it was hard to notice the lack of windows. It felt like less of a room to Grian and more of a cell but when he tried the door’s handle it was unlocked. The fluorescent light of the hallway flooded the room as the door swung open and Grian left to explore.
There were many other doors along the hallway, all locked with symbols above them. A car, a dog, an axolotl, a piece of coral, a flint and steel, a sunflower. They all were obviously important but Grian couldn’t decipher them. He looked back at his own door and saw a red feather above it, the only coloured symbol out of all of them and the only unlocked door. He continued down the corridor until it opened up into a large room containing nothing but a screen, a table and a few chairs. And a humanoid figure with wings.
“Welcome to the winners’ area, Grian.” The figure didn’t turn around but he could still feel as if he was being watched. “We are glad to have you here.”
“Who’s we? Where’s Scar?”
“Who We are is irrelevant, and your companion didn’t win.”
“No, he did, he deserved it more.”
“We only go by what We see and We saw you win.” And with that the figure left in a dull flash of purple, leaving Grian alone in the room. He turned his gaze to the screen on the wall, currently playing through what he could remember to be Scar’s first death. He looked away, feeling ill but when he looked back it was onto the next event, the failed explosion at Dogwarts. Grian looked away and made a note not to look back, it was only so long before the final fight amongst the cactus was shown and he would have to relive Scar’s final moments and then it may become real. He wasn’t gone, it was all just a fun trick and everyone would appear soon. Or maybe it was a dream and he would wake up to Scar planning to steal Ren’s enchanter. Or maybe, maybe this was real, and everyone else had died and he was stuck in this horrific purgatory, alone.
He settled into an uneasy routine over the next few months. He only could tell the time by the meals that appeared thrice a day. The videos on the screen also seemed to cycle through each day and Grian quickly discovered what times to avoid the large room so he wouldn’t see his and Scar’s final deaths. Every so often the figure appeared, stood still and observed Grian, never speaking since their first interaction, never giving any more information. Even when the figure wasn’t around Grian could still feel Its eyes on him and he was sure there were cameras on him but he hadn’t found any yet.
When Grian woke up that morning, he knew something was off, nothing was different but he could feel that something was different. The figure was in the corner again and as Grian sat at the table to eat the breakfast that was set out he could feel Its eyes following him. As always Grian started talking to it, not expecting any response but just for some form of interaction but for the first time since their first interaction the figure spoke.
“We need your services,” the figure stared at Grian with Its unblinking purple eyes, “We require another game.”
“What? Why me? Why can’t you just go to whoever did it for you the last time?” At that the figure seemed to become more annoyed although it didn’t show in Its voice.
“They are… unavailable and you seem to be rather bored here, maybe this will be a mutually beneficial experience.” Its purple eyes started to blink faster and more irregularly.
“And do what? Torture more innocent people?”
“No not more, just the same people,” The figure smiled without it reaching any of its eyes, “If you need some more convincing then I’m sure we could come up with a compromise.”
“If it’s the same people does that mean..”
“Yes, your companion is alive, but unless you create another game you can’t see him again. But if you want to sweeten the deal I can give you,” It pulled out a framed picture of Grian, Scar and Pizza after Scar lost his second life but before everything descended fully into chaos. Grian was holding a small bundle of poppies and lilacs that Scar had picked for him and they both looked so happy. The most happy that Grian had felt in a while. Grian remembered that day and how, for once, the desert heat felt bearable. He would do anything to have that picture… and if he could see Scar again maybe it would be worth it. And Scar made it to the final two last time so maybe… just maybe… Scar could win.
“Fine. But this will be the only time.” At this the figure’s grin grew to an unnatural size and It disappeared with a flash of purple. The picture frame fell to the floor and Grian dove for it before it hit the ground and smashed.