aka a third life ending thing that I wrote after finals kicked my ass
drabble under the cut so it doesn't take up the entire screen lol
@liferadayjune
A slight breeze filtered through Grianās feathers as he stood at the top of Monopoly mountain. Cacti surrounded him and his opponent, leaving no room for escape unless they wanted thistles dug into their skin.
But, he supposed, opponent was not a personal enough adjective for the man standing opposite him.Ā
Scar. The name echoed through him like ripples across water, a slight tremble residing in his nerves that made him avoid the eyes of his friend.Ā
āNo weapons, no armor. A clean fight.ā Scar said, dropping his sword and chestplate. He turned toward Grian, red eyes shining bright in the desert sun. āWe donāt even need to do this, yāknow. It can be your win.āĀ
āNo.ā The response came instantly, forcefully, even. Grian finally forced himself to meet the eyes of the man he had spent so long with. They had spent nearly every day by each otherās side, fighting common enemies, setting traps, building some semblance of normal on the dunes. He wiped needlessly at his eyes. They barely even watered. āWeāre going to do this right, Scar.ā Quickly, he emptied his bag of supplies, letting everything drop onto the ground uselessly.Ā
Whispers of the dead echoed around them, laughing, jeering, ready for a fight.Ā
A ring of fire surrounded the cacti, making escape nearly impossible as the flames roared high. If heād not spent so much time with Scar, it wouldāve made him jump out of his skin.Ā
āToo much?ā The question hung hollow in the air, though a smile split Scarās face. If Grian had to be honest, heād gotten used to the wicked grins and charming salesman smiles. The flint and steel dropped to the ground, forgotten in the sand, and Scar turned to him. āIām ready now.ā
They stood opposite each other, carefully watching each other under the guise of figuring out a strategy. It was the quiet understanding of a victor and a victim, knowing that one must die for the other to win.Ā
And it wasn't fair.Ā
He had offered his life for Scar, over and over again, and it wasnāt fair that he couldnāt do it now. That the two of them had depended on each other for so much, more than they could ever fit into words. He swallowed all the words he wanted to say, the pleas for them to win together, to show the watchers what it meant to win.Ā
And he nodded. āIām ready.āĀ
The countdown started in the wind.Ā
A quiet whispering from them both, their last shared peaceful moment with them both on their red lives. Grian could feel the red curse singing in his veins like the worst sort of burn.Ā
When the count reached zero, Grian could hear the curse in his head, urging him on, and he ran to strike first.
As his fist collided with Scarās face, the curse sang beneath his veins, quieting the pain. It was a sickening realization, that otherās pain would quell his own.Ā
But he couldnāt seem to stop.
They continued to exchange blows, Grian barely recognizing the outer pain when his vision was filled with Scar. Scar Scar Scar, his mind sang joyfully as he continued to pummel the other man into the sand.
It took him far too long to realize that the other was barely fighting back.Ā
Scar only kept throwing him off, again and again, messing with his wings, knocking sand into his eyes. It wasnāt a fair fight. And only with the curse finally starting to ebb, tears began flowing from Grianās eyes as he struck his companion again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
He couldnāt stop.
āScar, Iām sorry.ā Grian sobbed as Scar fell to the ground, likely unable to support himself through the curse he was not fighting and the amount of blows that Grian continued to rain upon him.Ā
Scar cracked the smallest smile, and Grian could feel his heart stop for just a moment. He reached his hand up as Grian reeled his fist back again. āYou donāt need to be sorry. Iām glad it ended like this. Thanks for keepingĀ
The last thing that Grian remembered of the fight was Scarās hand curled around the side of his face, Scarās winning smile that had kept him alive just as much as he kept Scar alive. And then Scar was gone, light draining from his eyes like the blood that flowed from his lips.Ā
Death was odd.
Grian had seen it so many times as he blew up his opponents and set traps that sent them falling into lava. A lifeless corpse fading into red dust before ultimately disappearing, blown away on the winds.Ā
It was different with Scar. Not in the action, but the attachment that came with it.Ā
As he sobbed, the body of his companion slowly melted into dust. It started near his hands and feet before quickly overtaking the rest of his body, leaving Grian covered in blood and whatever remained of Scar.Ā
The sky quickly turned dark, the moon an odd shade of purple, a familiar shape embedded in its surface. A calling home.Ā
Grian stood, his legs feeling like jelly, and followed the pull to the edge of the cliff. He felt numb. Alone in this shell of a world now that he killed the last living thing in it. The ground beneath the cliff was far away, so far that he could barely make out the hard sandstone below. Purple light shone down on everything, a glow of final judgement. The verdict was cast. He would not be forgiven.Ā
And as he let his legs give out, let himself tumble off the cliffs where he had once called home, he felt a slight pang of regret. Heād killed for nothing, wrecked the only nice things in this world in the name of a victory that didnāt exist.Ā
It was not noble.Ā
Wind whistled through his hair, his feathers, his very being as he fell. As he was dragged to his self-inflicted doom, he prayed that the afterlife, that Scar, would forgive him.Ā Ā
oh my lord they were so incredibly cute this episode that i might cry . what do you mean mumbo got so excited grian was online that he somehow switched into a whole new accent .
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