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The water was freezing cold in the canyon, and the evening sun was not doing anything to assist with the temperature. Joel and Etho didn’t seem to care, letting the water lick at their feet as they dug out the beginnings of a base, likely just to survive the coming night. Grian was still desperately in fear of hi soulmate, who often took large chunks of damage for no reason.
If they died, he’d lose a life too, and he only had three. He did not want to be out of these games early and risk stranding the winners as they were forced to face the watchers. Scott had slowly confided in Grian after the events of his death in the games, and they weren’t much more merciful then they had been to Grian.
Worse, Scott had given them a reason to be angry, which he would continue to suffer for. Grian knew he had to stay alive again and make sure no one else made the same mistake. They could not afford the watchers to be pissed off at them. The cost was always far too high.
“Is Scar your soulmate?” Joel asked, and Grian turned from the rockface to see the familiar man swimming through the water, chasing a glowing blue allay. Seemingly captivated by the mob, he didn’t seem to have noticed the three of them in the distance.
“Noo-” Grian muttered. Joel chuckled at Grian’s protest, but inside Grian felt like he had jumped into that freezing water.
No, not again.
He couldn’t be with Scar again, not after everything they’d gone through together. Sure, Scar didn’t remember, but Grian did.
Grian remembered the taste of his skin, the shine in his eyes when they slept together, the curve of his elven ears. Last life had been far too painful to interact within beyond what was necessary.
Even on hermitcraft, Grian couldn’t help but mourn the Scar he’d lost. It was selfish, he knew, but Scar had meant everything to him.
And he had killed him with his bare fists, sand in his face and blood on his hands. His wings would have refused to fly even if they weren’t clipped by the watchers. He hadn’t wanted to even look at himself when the blood one his hands began to cool, and the body of his sins lay on the ground.
Surely the watchers wouldn’t be quite so cruel?
Scar continued swimming, and Grian felt a phantom cool come over him. Surely that was just coincidence, right? It was cold outside anyway, and the last red streaks were fading into the night sky. Besides, cold didn’t usually mean you’d lose health.
He was just overthinking things – there were so many people who could lose large chunks of health, and Scar wasn’t the only one of them. If jimmy wasn’t with Tango, then Grian would check him, but Tango’s early death had confirmed them.
“Are you sure?” Joel asked, sensing his hesitance and his long pause, looking towards the man who was slowly swimming back to them as they allay looped round. With a glance at Grian, Joel jumped in, and smacked Scar lightly with the back of his hand.
There was a light brush at the back of Grian’s head and he froze.
“No.” He whispered, full at dread at the prospect that the watchers might have been cruel enough to do this. Surely even They wouldn’t dare.
“Did you feel that Grian?” Jole called treading water. Grian was too busy freaking out to reply.
Maybe he’d just imagined it, and the touch hadn’t actually been there. Surely that was it, and this was all some strange coincidence. He’d been attached to scar for so long after all.
Grian watched in slow motion as Joel pulled out an axe and dug it into Scar, flinching as it felt like his own stomach was splitting open. He wasn’t feeling pain as his skin felt the need to knit back together however, no, the only pain there was for him was mental.
He was bonded to Scar again, and the man didn’t even seem to know. Even Joel had seen Grian’s wince, and while he stood frozen, he had swum his way out of the water. Both of them looked at Grian with pity, though they thought he was just being dramatic about Scar’s survival instincts.
They didn’t know about the promises paid and lost in blood, the betrayals fought and the dance that one. They weren’t there in that cactus ring, as even nature seemed to rebel against them fighting each other’s as lovers.
It was all supposed to go so much better – Grian was supposed to slowly fall in love with Scar, getting to know each other on hermitcraft. But no, he had fallen into it headfirst, willingly giving everything even when they were no longer tethered.
And then he had lost everything, and the watchers had claimed Scar as well. Not that he deserved the man, after what he had done. He was responsible for him, and he loved him and he’d done nothing but fail him.
“Noooo!” Grian yelled, cursing the watchers and their sick and twisted minds. They wanted to watch Grian suffer, feeling every little twinge of Scar’s pain, knowing that he could never have third life or his Scar.
Afterall, heartbreak was the greatest food for any watcher.