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The arena didn't allow for a curtain call, but Scott had always known how to exit a stage.
(It wouldn't be the first time.)
(But, hopefully... this would be the last.)
They all knew someone would be the first out. It was a death game, after all, and the gods had only given them three chances for a reason.
And yet, a part of Scott had still been surprised when it had been him.
He remembered screaming. The voice of Apo whispering she was sorry before a familiar burning pain in his throat. Falling to the ground. The cries for him to stay awake. The sound of fighting in the distance. Someone desperately trying to feed him a potion he couldn't swallow–
And then... nothing.
But he didn't wake up in the Underworld as expected.
Instead, Scott became the breeze itself.
He was thinner now. Wispy. He couldn’t quite touch things like he once had. It took a while before Scott realized that he had become some sort of specter. A ghost. A shadow of his former self. A lingering draft of air floating through the sky just like every other wind current.
Colors, scenery, and time itself faded into each other. The death game that had trapped him for such a short time – and yet felt like an eternity – suddenly seemed so far away.
Despite having been forced to live in terror for months...
Despite Scott and those he had become fond of – had loved and fallen in love with – being forced to backstab and betray each other day in and day out...
Despite experiencing so many violent deaths...
...it suddenly all mattered far less.
Scott was one with the wind.
Content to go wherever the breeze wished to take him.
However, Scott always found a way to circle back to his favorite cast members.
There were many, of course. In truth, every individual in this cruel game had earned a place in Scott's memories and hearts in one way or another. Friend or foe seemed to matter far less now, but even back in life, he had always known the horrible things they did to each other wasn't personal. It wasn't an indication of their true selves or feelings, but rather a mask they all had to wear in order to survive.
(Actors had to play their role, after all.)
But there were two individuals in particular that Scott had always found himself circling. Following and trailing after despite the fact that he was far more used to being chased than chasing.
(Chased and yet no one who actually wanted to stay.)
Sometimes, Scott wondered what would have happened had he chosen a different cave. If he had gone in the direction of Apo and the others instead. Would he have become a Feather Holder? Would he have grown to hate Nikos and Abolish?
...no, he doubted it.
After all, Scott didn't hate anyone in this horrible game.
(No one but the damn gods.)
Perhaps Scott would have been enemies with them, but given his very immediate attraction to Nikos, and Abolish's steady nature that was so calming to be around, he was sure that he would've gotten tangled up with them in one way or another.
(Or at least he hoped.)
(Scott doubted they would have looked at him twice had he been an enemy.)
(Perhaps, in another life, Nikos or Abolish would have been the one to take his last life.)
(Perhaps, instead of Apo's knife slitting his throat, Scott would've been staring into the eyes of Nikos or Abolish as they stabbed him without remorse.)
(...at least it would have been a good view.)
As expected, Scott found his two favorites near the forge.
Scott circled the building from above, gazing down with a carefree hum as he watched Abolish work at his anvil. As usual, the gladiator looked very attractive as he pounded iron into new and amazing shapes. The armor and weaponry was truly beyond anything Scott had seen in life (or death). Hephaestus had certainly chosen his champion well.
In multiple ways.
However, unlike normal, the rhythmic clink clink clink of the forge was missing.
Instead, Abolish was striking the iron with an erratic, furious violence. The heavy hammer came down with aggressive thuds that echoed too loudly in the cramped space, vibrating through the air with its fury.
It... didn't look like Abolish was making anything in particular? Or, at least, whatever he was making would end up far more misshapen and uneven than the usual, flawless work that the blacksmith produced.
The actor frowned, recalling what Abolish had said once when Scott had been helping – hindering – the blacksmith work.
"You can't let emotion get in the way of crafting," Abolish said, huffing softly when Scott refused to unwrap his arms from his neck.
The retired gladiator was so warm and comfortable, how could Scott have ever been expected to let go? Of course, Abolish would just give him dry, unimpressed looks whenever he made such 'excuses' (which, they were not!) to be a brat.
"Why's that?" Scott asked, genuinely interested even if it didn't seem like it. "I would have thought feeling strongly would just give you the energy and motivation to finish a project faster?"
"Sometimes, but usually, emotion just creates flaws," Abolish explained, managing to maneuver around fine despite Scott's presence. What a complainer. "Ruins the design, in a lot of cases. If you don't have a clear head, you'll just make mistakes, waste materials, or rush steps. You have to be steadier than the fire if you expect to create anything usable."
"You do have very steady hands," Scott teased back. "Mind putting them to work in different ways? After all, even if emotion is detrimental in crafting, there are plenty of unique benefits to feeling strongly as well."
Abolish snorted, but Scott's pulse skipped a beat as the blacksmith actually put down his hammer.
Scott bit down a gasp, giggling as the former gladiator backed him up and firmly pinned the actor to the wall.
Abolish's orange eyes were as bright as the fire in the forge, threatening to burn Scott alive the longer he stared. Not that he minded.
The gladiator smirked, the look making Scott swallow hard.
"Looks like I'll have to if I want to get any work done–"
Scott blinked, the memory fading away to be replaced with the very different sight in front of him now.
Looking at Abolish now... it seemed like he was trying to destroy something rather than create.
Scott took a few moments to watch Abolish swung down again, a harsh jagged strike that sent a shower of angry sparks cascading into the dark. He broke the tool he'd been forging in half. But instead of melding it back together, Abolish just grabbed the scraps with his bare hands and threw them into a growing pile of scraps in the corner.
It's a good thing your lovely skin is fireproof, Scott thought appreciatively. While your scars are so lovely, there is no need to unnecessarily mark your beautiful body.
(That was Nikos's and Scott's job.)
Not too far from Abolish, the Champion of Zeus was also there.
But Nikos also looked... strange.
While brooding was usually a good look for Nikos, his expression was dark and stormy in a way that made the pressure in the nearby clouds feel particularly dangerous. He appeared to be muttering to himself, pacing back and forth. It was a look that told Scott that the warrior from Thrace was planning vengeance.
Usually, at times like this, Scott would either find a way to distract Nikos or help him find a way to vent his emotions. Often a mixture of both.
Perking up, Scott decided to do just that. He waved a hand, making a chilly gust rattle through the loose chains on the tool racks.
It was a very subtle thing, but both men froze instantly.
Look at me, Scott thought with a smile. There's no reason to be so upset. Why not have some fun instead? I'll entertain you.
You'll still let me do that, right?
A moment passed.
Then Abolish loaded a new tray of iron on his forget and began to swing his hammer again, looking even more furious and yet neutral in a way that made Scott want to pout and kiss it off.
He supposed he couldn't do that anymore, could he?
"Would you stop pretending that you don't care about anyone, Abolish?" Scott had said during one of their arguments, crossing his arms and refusing to back down. "I know this is a death game, but there's no need to isolate yourself. Besides..."
He dramatically fluttered his hair.
"I'm an actor. Do you really think hiding behind a mask will do you any good with me?"
Abolish stilled, then slowly turned to face Scott.
"I could say the same thing to you, Scott."
Nikos, too, did not look up at Scott's very noticeable wind.
Suddenly, the warrior didn't look as angry as before.
He looked... sad.
It reminded Scott of the way Nikos had looked when he had explained why he was so upset about Apo changing his appearance. Not because he didn't appreciate how Scott looked, he very much did, but because doing so had taken away his tattoos. His identity. Everything that made Nikos himself.
Everything Nikos had left to hold on to.
"I had my home taken from me once," Nikos said solemnly. "I will not have it taken from me again in death. That is how this all began."
Scott swallowed. He had known that Nikos had been extremely upset from Apo's action, but he hadn't realized it was... so important to the warrior.
"I understand," Scott began to say before pausing.
Because that was a lie.
With the precious memories that Nikos had shared with him... Scott could at least do him a courtesy of being truthful.
Or at least as truthful as a perpetually lying actor like him could be.
"I mean... I wish I did." Scott swallowed. "I'm not particularly someone who's attached to themselves and their identity. I... I suppose you'd need an identity in the first place to be attached to, you know?"
Scott gave a low bitter chuckle, avoiding Nikos's suddenly intense gaze. Instead, he stared at the cave around them, trying to enjoy the way the purple crystals continue to glow even miles away from the light of the sun.
He envied them.
"After a while, it got to a point where I don't quite know where Scott the person and Scott the actor separate. You wear enough masks... you get lost behind a few of them."
Scott was quiet for a moment before finally turning to look at Nikos.
"Sorry, I just meant to say that it's fair for you to be upset. To be... attached to your identity. To what you have left."
"Yes, my home was beautiful." Nikos sounded so wistful... and then he gave a bitter laugh.
"Well... it was. Now it is one of yours. It's a ghost."
Scott huffed as the two men only continued to ignore him. He gathered himself into as concentrated of a form as he could and flew down to brush past the lightning champion's shoulder. Tendrils of wind weaved affectionately through the thick strands of Nikos' hair, ruffling the long brown locks very noticeably.
"Look at me, my dear warrior," Scott whispered, tracing his fingers down the sides of Nikos's face.
Scott wished that he could rub the tension and knots in those thick shoulders like he once could. It had been a very soothing activity for them both... even when it didn't turn into anything more heated.
Which was strange because that was usually the only reason people wanted him around if he wasn't actively putting on a show.
"Why are you so sad?" Scott asked, brow furrowed with confusion. "A handsome man like you should always be smiling. Laughing."
Nikos froze. The static in the room flared, sharp and full of grief, before fizzing out once more like a sad, smothered spark.
Nikos finally looked up at Scott, studying him with those deep brown eyes.
For a moment, there was a raw, agonizing hunger.
But then, it faded away once more, making Scott pout.
"...not now, Windy One," Nikos murmured, his voice rumbling low. It was like listening to cracking stone, the usual bravado gone from the proud warrior. He reached up, his massive hand trembling as it waved weakly at the air where his hair had been disturbed. "Not now."
"Oh honey, don't be like that." Scott tried to giggle, but the sound was only a faint, whistling hiss through the cracks of the forge.
If anything, Nikos looked even sadder.
He turned away fully, but Scott only flew around to face him once more. The actor frowned, trying harder to caress his rugged and scarred cheek.
"Are you alright, Nikos?" Scott murmured in concern. "Are you... thinking of Katisa again? Or your homeland? What's wrong? How can I make it better?"
Nikos swallowed, but did not answer–
"Katisa," Nikos said longingly as they continued to mine in the caves together. "My fire. We fought, we loved, she died."
"I'm sorry," Scott said quietly. "Never had that in life. So I can only imagine."
"I pity you," Nikos said, though his eyes were kind. "At least you found a bit of it in death."
Scott's stomach twisted and he turned away. "I had many, uh, entertaining evening, but nothing of substance. It's hard when people want to get to know the real you and you're not quite sure who that is yourself. Or people fall in love with versions of you that aren't real."
(Is any part of me real?)
(Is any part of this real?)
(...what does it even matter?)
"Yes," Nikos said, though Scott had a feeling he didn't quite understand.
But that was okay.
Good even.
"Well, honestly, it's one of the reasons I respected you so quickly." Scott swallowed, the vulnerability felt like swallowing swords. "I felt like... what you see is what you get, you know?"
(Not like me.)
"I do not like liars or cheats or thieves," Nikos agreed.
Scott's stomach flipped. In many ways, wasn't the actor all three?
A liar with his endless masks.
A cheat who had been given so many things he didn't deserve.
A thief who belonged to the society that had stolen and destroyed Nikos's precious home.
Scott swallowed, forcing a laugh.
"We have plenty of those here."
"What's wrong?" Scott repeated in the present. Or, had he said that already? He didn't think he had. Had he? "How can I make you smile?"
Across the forge, the sound of Abolish's hammer finally stopped. Scott looked over, quickly making his way over so he could perch on the blacksmith's shoulder. Much like he had done so many times in the past.
"Hello Abolish," Scott said brightly. "What are you crafting? Is there anything I can help you get? I know you hate asking for help, but I'm pretty sure that whatever you're making is in pretty rough shape now."
Abolish didn't look at Scott even once. His shoulders went rigid, his expression a perfect mask of neutrality that even Scott would have a difficult time seeing through.
But his eyes.
His orange eyes were filled with pain.
Abolish exhaled shakily, closing his eyes as if he knew that Scott could see the emotions churning inside of them. His fingers were clenching so tightly around the handle of his hammer that his knuckles had turned white.
"He's still here, Nikos," Abolish said, his voice flat and entirely hollow.
"I know," Nikos growled, returning to his pacing. "I know he is. Little brat won't leave us alone."
Scott frowned, a twinge of violent agonizing pain filling his chest...
...before it, too, disappeared with the breeze.
He giggled, swirling in small, playful loops around their head.
"Such sad faces," Scott mused. "I should have brought wine. Nikos, why aren't you making wine? I know Abolish hates drinking, but surely you can see that this occasion calls for it? If I had won this game, my wish would've been wine for everyone–"
Scott paused, something inside of him... stilling.
Remembering.
"No..." Scott whispered, confusion and hurt and a strange feeling of shame filling him. "That... that wasn't going to be my wish... was it?"
"And what about you, Windy One?" Nikos asked. "What will you wish for, should you win?"
Scott let out a small laugh.
He had wondered when someone would ask him that.
"I've thought about what I would wish for and I realized... I don’t really have one," Scott said softly, stopping where he was on the path. "There's not much for me to go back to. If I somehow end up the winner of this... you can have my wish."
"I will be gone," Nikos pointed out.
The warrior sounded entirely unbothered by the idea.
Which was enviable because the mere thought of losing Nikos was already tearing Scott apart.
(A part of Scott was glad that he didn't have a chance to win. In fact, a selfish part of him hoped he would be the first to die. Hoped that he wouldn't have to see any of these amazing people breathe their last. Hoped he wouldn't be the one to inflict it.)
"Well, I can wish for your wish." Scott swallowed. He knew that his feelings probably sounded too obvious, too pathetic, but he meant every word he said. "I could wish for your people to be back. To be... free."
Even though Scott hadn't known anything about Nikos's homeland or suffering an hour ago, he knew that this was the right choice.
More than that, it felt like Scott finally had a reason to be in this death game.
A reason to keep going... to make all of the pain he knew he would go through worth it in some small way.
Nikos's eyes softened. A vulnerability, wonder, and gratitude in those brown irises that took Scott's breath away.
"That would be wonderful, Scott."
Scott frowned, blinking as he stared at the two men very pointedly ignoring his presence.
What am I doing? he wondered, scolding himself. I shouldn’t be distracting them. They've got a death game to win. If Nikos and Abolish want any chance to survive to the end, to gain their Wish, I can't be a burden. I was already a burden to them in life, I can't be a burden again in death. Or... whatever this existence is.
Scott flew up into the sky, looking for a cloud to drift along to. He settled in, losing himself in the alternating currents that took him across the island.........
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.......................until Scott, yet again, forgot what he'd promised, and came looking for his two favorite cast members once more.
And so...
The cycle repeated.
o0o0o0o
Despite having so firmly ignored the spirit before, Nikos and Abolish looked up as Scott finally flew away – their eyes with grief as they watched their now ghostly lover disappear once more.
Don't come back, they wanted to say. There's nothing for you here. Move on. Find peace. Find a world without grief, heartache, and betrayal. Because that's all that remains here.
But even though they knew that Scott would forget whatever they said... neither Nikos nor Abolish could bring themselves to say these words.
They had failed him in life.
...and only continued to fail him in death.
And so...
The cycle repeated.