Chapter Text
War plagued the desert for as long as Scar had been alive. Born third in line for the throne of a warring kingdom, Scar knew all there was to know about war. More specifically, he knew the effects it had on innocent lives. His older brother, Cub, joined the regime when Scar was only twelve, since then Scar had waited for the day that he, too, could fight for their country.
Scar was eighteen now, the minimum age required to join his country’s military, and war had continued to wreck the nation. The enemies were slowly taking their outer villages and fields, slowly starving his people. Even Scar had been affected. He could trace his ribs from the rationing the entire nation was partaking in. His clothes were getting bigger on him despite his efforts to build more muscle.
The town square seemed as light as ever despite the circumstances. Goods were still exchanged as well as the sound of Vex children running and laughing. The sun shone on as Scar crossed the square in search of something. His eyes finally locked onto a table near the center of the square. Many people crowded around, some writing, and some talking quietly amongst themselves Scar walked towards the volunteer table with a sense of pride. The vex would fight for this country or die trying. When he got to the table, the man behind it glanced up. His eyes widened as he did a double take.
“Your majesty? What are you-? Why-?” The man seemed to recover himself and cleared his throat, straightening his back. “How may I help you, sir?”
Scar put on his most charming smile and looked at the man. “I’d like to enlist.”
“You…you would like too-” The man he talked to seemed to freeze, his brain slowly processing what Scar had just said. Another man appeared from seemingly nowhere and booted the guy Scar was talking to out of his chair. Taking the seat, he continued the conversation.
“Would I be able to talk you out of this, your majesty? This seems rather sudden.” The man put on a large smile, but Scar could see the concern in his eyes.
Everyone knew how badly Scar wanted this. He trained with the younger recruits from the moment Prince Cub left for deployment. He became the best fighter with both sword and bow. No one wanted this more than him.
“Oh, I’m sure. I just need you to write on your paper that X’cah Goodtimes has enlisted.”
The man behind the table flinched. Prince Scar almost never used his full name, usually defaulting to his nickname, Scar. His true name was only ever used for formal events.
“Y-yes sir.” The man picked up the quill with shaking hands and wrote out the name X’cah Goodtimes as best as he could.
“Good man.” Scar flashed one last smile and turned around to be faced with silence.
Everyone in the square was staring blankly at him. The noise seemed as if it had dropped, and the only thing you could hear was the sound of the children, although it appeared that it had quieted as well. One brave woman walked forward with a wide-eyed look on her face.
“Your majesty, you’re enlisting?” Her eyes remained glued to the floor, but Scar could see the tremble in her lip.
Scar’s face held a small smile as he spoke. “I am. It’s time I help bring our country back to prosperity.” He looked up to address the whole of the marketplace. “My people, I promise you this as your prince. We will put all of our efforts into stopping this war and bringing peace back to the kingdom.” Scar tiptoed over saying that they would win. He couldn’t promise anyone anything worth hoping for.
The woman stayed silent as the rest of the marketplace roared with cheers. Scar, seeing her silence, quietly ducked his head and asked, “What is it?”
The woman shook as she spoke, “If we lose you and Prince Cub in this war, we will have no one left to take the throne.”
Scar’s eyes softened. The kindness of his people always shocked him. He took the woman’s shaking hands in his own as he whispered to her, “You will not lose me to this war.”
The woman looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. “Your majesty, you can’t promise that.”
“I know,” said Scar, “but I can hope for it.”
He squeezed, then released the woman's hands and melted back into the crowd of cheering citizens.
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Scar entered the castle and was immediately swarmed by maids. One taking his coat, another brushing dirt off his pant legs. The head maid stood in front of him with her arms crossed like she was scolding a child, because in her eyes, that’s what she saw him as. The head maid had been part of the castle far longer than both Scar and Cub and played a heavy hand in raising the two.
“And just where were you, Scar?” Her eyebrow tilted as if to accentuate her question.
Scar ducked his head guiltily and looked off to the side. “I was, um, maybe kinda, just a little bit, enlisting?”
All the maids gasped and stared at him slack-jawed. The main one, though, narrowed her eyes and squinted at Scar. Scar had spent his entire childhood being scrutinized by that stare, but he still couldn’t stop his shoulders from raising to his ears.
“Listen, I know Mom said I shouldn’t, but I need to do this, you know that Miss Gwenyth.” Scar chanced a look at Gwenyth.
Gwenyth set her jaw. “You should really listen to the queen, Scar.”
Scar was staring at a spot above her head in an attempt to not feel as guilty. His hands scrunching the edge of his sleeves as he waited for her response.
She continued to stare him down until one of the other maids cleared her throat.
“Whatever the case…” her eyes trailed down and then back up him as if to evaluate his clothing, “you have a dinner with the queen in an hour.”
Scar released the breath he was holding and quickly scurried to his room to get ready for dinner. Now for the hardest person to convince.
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Scar opened the heavy doors to the dining room to see that Queen Cleo already sat at the head of the table. Their eyes met as soon as he entered, and he could see the anger in hers as well as she could see the concern in his.
Scar slowly walked around the table to his normal spot at her right. Cub always used to sit to her left. The moment he sat down, the queen cleared her throat.
“Do you have something you would like to tell me X’cah?” She bore holes into the side of his head as he stared down at his plate.
“Yes ma’am.” Scar mumbled out.
“I’m not quite sure I heard you. We have talked before about your mumbling issue.”
Scar lifted his head and looked her in the eyes.
“Yes, ma’am, I have something we should discuss.” He felt his resolve wavering under her glare, but he continued. “Today, I went down to the market and enlisted. I will be fighting for this country until the end of the war.”
Cleo was silent for a moment before speaking.
“I raised you and Cub with far too much patriotism…”
Scar felt offended. “Are you really saying that you’d rather I sit around than help deliver us from this oppression? Our people starve. Our crops are failing. You and I both know we are not surviving this winter-”
Cleo raised her hand to silence Scar and the room was immediately put back into stillness. She pulled in a breath before continuing.
“You will not be helping your country at all if we lose you to this war.”
Scar was silent for a moment before piping up, “Then you won’t lose me.”
Cleo’s eyes widened as she snapped, “You can’t promise that. Out there, the enemy wants you in pieces. I refuse to bury my sons as nothing more than faces on a battlefield.”
Scar slumped back in his seat. “Then why’d you let Cub go?”
Cleo’s face twisted into something painful. “I didn’t.” She said quietly.
Scar was taken aback, sitting back up in his chair. Cub had told him that their mother had given him permission to fight.
“He left on his own, after I told him specifically that he was forbidden. A band of soldiers took pity and snuck him into their carriage. I didn’t realize until a maid found a note in his room.”
Cleo’s hands shook and her eyes became glassy. Scar immediately leaned forward to take his mother’s hand in his. Cleo looked up at him and saw the same determination in his eyes. Tears started pouring down her face as she caressed his face with her free hand.
“Don’t let me lose both sons.”
Scar perked up as he realized what it was that she was saying. He moved his hand to the back of her head and pushed their foreheads together.
“I, X’cah Goodtimes, prince of the desert, do solemnly swear to you, Cleo Goodtimes, queen of the desert, that you will not lose both of your sons to this war.” Blue magic swept through the air. Originating from Scar chest, surrounding both of them, and ending in Cleo’s chest.
Cleo’s crying slowed to sniffles as she backed up from the promise.
“So can I go?” Scar asked hopefully.
Cleo made a small smile before speaking. “You…can go.”
Scar was mentally celebrating but decided now might not be the time. He stood from his seat and bowed low, “Thank you, my queen.”
Cleo chuckled before shooing him out.
Scar realized only after that they never had dinner as his stomach rumbled. It might not be best to walk back in right now and ask for food. Scar ended up sneaking food from the kitchen before going to his room for the night.
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In the morning, a group of men were sent out to the outer edges of the battlefield. Scar was one of them. His brother, still alive, greeted him with open arms and welcomed him to the regime. Scar spent months out on the battlefields slowly regaining footing and land from the enemies until the day that Cub approached him with a plan.
Cub had gained a high rank within the troops given his status and time devoted to the war, so he was the one that set out the plan. An enemy camp was spotted just east of the river they were currently stationed at, and Cub wanted to perform an ambush.
Scar was hesitant to the idea, knowing the magical properties of the enemy, but Cub soon convinced him. That night, they made their approach.
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Scar felt a chill run down his spine. Whether that was from the wind, or the feeling he had of being watched, he wasn’t sure. His shoes that he had outgrown weeks ago squeezed at his feet, and he could feel the frozen ground beneath him as if he had no shoes at all. Ahead of him stood a deep purple-colored tent. The official color of the Watcher colonies. Scar took in a breath as he looked to his side to see Cub signaling to the other groups to begin the attack.