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A cool breeze passes by, gently rustling the surrounding greenery along with his hair. Grian enjoys the tranquility of his environment as he fishes, serene and calm as if he's part of nature. It immediately breaks down the second he's drenched with spraying water from behind.
“How dare you interrupt my fishing time!” Grian complains with gritted teeth.
He turns around, ready to shower every insult known to man to the one who has wronged him, only to be greeted with narrowed emerald eyes. He registers that there are what seems to be water guns on both of the man's grip, double wielding them.
Oh, come off it.
“Scar, where did you get a gun?” Grian sweats.
Unexpectedly, another round of sprayed water splashes directly to his face.
“Thank you, Impulse.” Scar laughs like a wind wiper. “I have to get him to make me more of these in the future.”
The knight shoots again, but Grian sees it coming and dodges to the side, twisting his body towards the opposite direction and runs away.
“Hey, get back here!” Scar demands from a distance.
Grian's swift feet eventually brings him to the royal garden, using the large greenery to his advantage and hides behind one of them. It's a good thing he knows the terrain like the back of his hand. Otherwise, he'll be caught very easily.
Taking note of his surroundings, he hears Scar's crunching steps and occasionally declares his victory before shooting, only to be disappointed when he's wrong. The second the footsteps are getting closer, he swiftly runs to the source and kicks upward, disarming one of the guns and catches it.
He aims it at Scar's face and shoots repeatedly, making the brunette scream in panic and flee. Of course, he won't let him get away with this. He grins ear to ear as he chases relentlessly, closing his distance between them. With adrenaline coursing through his blood vessels, he receives the boost he needs to chase this athletic man. Plus, it numbs his aching legs and gets to enjoy the situation.
“Scar, come back!” Grian singsongs, shooting the man's ear as he cackles maniacally.
Despite being soaked wet, Scar doesn't bat an eye and continues to escape with a high-pitched scream. When Grian is about to catch up to him, the floor feels too smooth as he steps on it and in a blink of an eye, he falls on his back with a thud. He groans due to the pain inflicted on his head, hearing Scar hissing in the distance.
Once he recovers, he immediately stands up and resumes his chase. He follows the knight climbing towards a marble statue of the royal family's patron god, settling down on one of the shoulders before shooting him. Grian easily dodges and retaliates, only for Scar to move to the other shoulder and dodge. They repeat the cycle with big smiles on their faces.
As if he's been slapped on the face, he gapes and drops his gun. His stomach twists in dread, realising what he's done. He doesn't flinch even when Scar gets a lucky shot.
“Scar, you have to get down. We're done horsing around.” Grian requests in a deadpan.
“No way. The fun's just getting started.” Scar blows a raspberry.
“Scar, get down.”
“Why are you being such a mum all of a sudden?” Scar rolls his eyes in annoyance, causing Grian to grit his teeth.
“I said ‘get down’ right now or I swear I'm dragging you down myself!” Grian demands furiously.
Silence extends for a few moments, before the brunette sighs in defeat and climbs down.
The second he lands on the floor, a maid approaches, informing Grian with a whisper that the Queen summons him to her personal dining room. He nods in affirmation, handing the gun to Scar's hand without looking before he walks away, leaving the brunette behind.
Everyone gathers in the monarch's personal dining room for one reason: to celebrate Grian's birthday. Great.
The clattering is the only thing that fills the lukewarm room, as the Queen and the heir apparent indulge themselves with their respective meal.
Is his posture correct? Did he eat the food in the right order?
Once all of them are finished with the main course, the Queen approaches his seat and gives him a wrapped present with a smile, showcasing her crow's feet. Her tucked hair displays one of her earrings, shimmering under the light crystals. Whilst his brother follows suit, albeit with a smaller but more vibrant box.
“It's not much, but I tried to craftificate something you might like.” Lucian comments with a knowing look before going back to his seat.
Opening both presents, he notices how his sibling is exactly correct, making his stomach twist. Why does he know he wants something like this to mess around with people?
Grian expresses his gratitude with a strained smile, ignoring the pang on his chest.
Is he implying something? Is trying to assassinate him in the past not enough? Sure, the assassin wasn't heard of again the moment word got out, but it's still a justifiable excuse why he never gets a personal valet ever again.
This is why there's nothing great about being a royal. It's just one struggle after another for him ever since he arrived. If his brother hates having competitions that badly, why don't he just frame him and exile him or say it straight to his face?
He'll gladly leave.
He misses his family back home, but he can't see them anymore. He feels so out of place ever since he came here.
He's an outsider.
Unfortunately, he can't tell anyone about this. He wants to hang out and get along with everyone, but he doesn't want to lose any more people he cherishes.
Crud.
He wants to embrace his cats again.
Without warning, goosebumps form around his arms, but he continues to eat his dinner as if nothing is amiss.
The echoes fill the winding empty halls as he walks to his private quarters, gifts on hand. As soon as he left that room, he's relieved to be able to breathe again. But it's frustrating that his legs ache as always. He can't help but grunt as he hits something solid in front, only for it to greet with a female voice.
“What do we have here?” He looks up to meet Pearl's crimson eyes. “A wild Grian but no Scar?” She adds with a smirk.
“Hmph! I'm not a babysitter to someone who's supposed to be protecting me.” Grian grumbles with a frown. “Pearl, you're old. Surely, you must know another info you might’ve missed related to this chronic pain from the prophecy.” He addresses and plants a free hand on her shoulder.
He's reluctant to ask, but he needs all the help he can get.
“Wow… that's not very nice, Grian.” Pearl points out as she frowns. Is she genuinely mad or…? “Sorry mate, but I already shared everything related to your future.” She purses her lips with a downcast look.
“But it's all just random cryptic garbage!” Grian complains.
‘Bound in likeness, split by fate—The shadow reaches, the tether turns. What binds will bury.’
Ever since he heard those very words three years ago, he's been experiencing these stupid body pangs with random intensity. The worst part is: They. Won't. Stop.
“Who gave this vague nonsense to you, Pearl? I wanna file a complaint with the HR.” Grian demands firmly.
“I don't know what that means, but I can't say anything or The Architect might get mad at me if I will.” Pearl sighs deeply. “I hate it when she yells my ears off.” She mumbles with drooped shoulders.
Grian opens the door to his room and keeps it that way for Pearl to enter. Beelining towards his wardrobe, he grabs his sleepwear and begins to change, with the vampire settling down on the sofa behind him.
To think that it's already been twenty years since he reincarnated into this world, yet it's still a struggle in getting used to being a royal or outdated stuff. The pain on his butt whenever they ride a coach for weeks just to visit a neighbouring city is still on top of his ‘most hated outdated features list’.
Not only that, everyone is not what they seem to be. He learned that the hard way.
He already lost count how many times he accidentally offended demi-humans. And then there's Pearl's case. The stains and pungent smell of blood are still unbearable whenever she feeds off of some random guy she might’ve bumped into on the streets.
“Ground control to Major Grian!” He jolts at the mention of his name, only to realise Pearl copied how he called her last time. “When did you get a tattoo?” She questions in surprise.
“I never got any.” Grian raises a brow in confusion.
“Ah, it means you finally earned your soulmate mark, then.” Pearl rubs her nape awkwardly.
“What? Where?” Grian exclaims in shock.
The vampire grabs a hand mirror from the bedside drawer and approaches him, bringing the object beside him and tilting it to reflect the said mark behind his shoulder.
“Er, happy third anniversary?” Pearl strains a cheerful smile.
Wow, he's the least bit glad of having to endure a stranger's chronic pain for that long at all.
Scar screams in agony as he drops on the floor unceremoniously, embracing himself.
His eyes glow white-blue and illuminates a spot on the floor, grunting as he feels his canines growing longer, spotting his mop of hair turning white, and tears form as he senses the skin of his back being ripped off by a pair of wings sprouting like moles on the ground.
Heavy breaths fill the chilling, dark room, sensing a cold sweat dripping from his forehead at the image of Grian discovering how monstrous he truly is if he doesn’t stop himself. He can keep this under control. No, he needs to.
Go to the dark side
Blood for the Blood God
uuh wrong one bro
Might as well spread the propaganda
lololololol
fair
give it up scar
let it go, its much easier
:)
give in to your instincts
that's right
forget about grian and lets cause some chaos
“No! I can't… do that.” Scar winces before vigorously shaking his sweaty head. “Sure, he's stubborn, petty, and always scolds me… for almost every little thing.” He pants vigorously, feeling his clothes drenched in sweat. “But Grian is still… an amazing person who can do anything… he puts his mind into it. He always… helped me and never left my side… no matter what.” He can't help the soft smile forming on his face.
Once he thinks that, he can feel his wings and teeth retreating alongside with the color of his hair and eyes returning to their original shade. Every inch of him feels so sore afterwards. Like a puppet with its strings detached, he lies on the floor with his heaving chest.
Scar doesn't fight his drooping eyelids and allows himself to drift into unconsciousness.
Grian has been opening numerous doors for who knows how long, feeling the soles of his feet going sore. His marching steps echo the identical hallways, but his search is unrewarded.
He slams his fist to the wall with gritted teeth, getting annoyed for not finding Scar since not only did he wake up with burning pain all over his body and was sweating like a pig, they also have to depart in a few minutes for an audience with the neighbouring allied kingdom.
Was he still upset about the gun thing?
Did something happen?
Despite being absentminded sometimes, the knight always ensures to be on time. Barely.
He doesn't want him to be in danger. He wants to be by his side no matter what, so he can protect him.
He wants to express how amazing he is, showering him with compliments, so he won't think lowly of himself anymore.
This is tough.
It's very difficult to keep going, but he has to. If he wants to keep his precious people around him at all times, he needs to move and endure the hurt.
Why is he thinking of nonsense stuff now, of all times?
He doesn't have time to be distracted.
Moving forward once more, he continues his excruciating search but bumps onto something and falls on his butt with a thud.
What did he just collide into? The pain feels as if he's been hit with a wrecking ball. He looks up to see the knight he's been searching for.
How much muscle mass does this man have?
“Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you.” Grian demands hastily.
“I got lost trying to find your room.” Scar confesses sheepishly. He's not sure if that's the truth or not. “Sorry.” He offers a hand and Grian doesn't hesitate to grab it to hoist himself.
He's suddenly overwhelmed with an intense prickling sensation on his legs, falling back down without warning.
Did they get worse after walking for a while?
After being lifted off the ground, he can't help but squeal in surprise, only for Scar to carry him on his back.
“What the—? Scar, put me down right now!” Grian exclaims with an eye twitch.
“No can do, mister.” Scar refuses and walks forward whilst shaking his head. “I highly doubt you can walk in your current state.”
His torso is soaked for some reason, but he must've been sweating from all the searching earlier.
Grian gapes for a moment before releasing a huff.
Thanks.
“What was that?” Scar tilts his head and gives a side eye.
“Nothing.” Grian quickly replies.
Did he say that out loud?
“Ehm, can you lead me to the coach? I forgot where it is.” Scar sheepishly requests.
He giggles at his friend's usual antics.
Once the sun is heading towards the horizon, Grian slams himself towards the coach's seat, sighing in relief at the thought of being able to go home. Convincing the king to agree was difficult to pull off. Hopefully, he didn't act incorrectly as he's too distracted with the meeting. Even with years of etiquette training, there are still times when he slips up without him noticing.
From across him, he notices Scar grimacing.
“Why did you say that?” Scar inquires in a quiet voice, fidgeting with his scarred hands.
“What do you mean?” Grian tilts his head to rest it on his fist that's supported by the backrest.
Did he say something he shouldn't have during the meeting? Will the king be offended? Surely, he'll understand that a ‘spare’ such as himself is no match for the accomplishments of the heir himself and forgives him. He doesn't want to start a war due to his stupid mistakes.
“You lied to the king by telling him that the Queen would provide her support in building a medical facility.” Scar’s shoulders tense in distress. Oh, that. “Plus, you even promised that Her Highness will send mages who specialise in explosion magic and clear out the slums.”
“What does it matter? This is nothing compared to my mother's ruthlessness.” Grian shrugs apathetically. “She'll surely understand my decision once I give her the report.”
And besides, he received a tip from Etho regarding the rebel forces using the slum in question as a base and if they don't crush them now, it'll only cause more trouble for their own kingdom when millions of casualties are going to be involved. Proximity wise, it's the perfect place for citizens to evacuate when that happens but there's a risk that the rebels will blend in to launch an attack.
“But it doesn't mean you have to destroy that area. There are numerous people living there whose lives will be ruined.” Scar appeases desperately.
Grian looks out the window, “So?”
He did the right thing. There's nothing to be ashamed of.
He can hear Scar scoffing in disbelief before going quiet.
Tsk. Why does his palms have to be irritatingly itchy right now?
With a grumble, Scar is pacing back and forth in the confines of his room. He still can't believe what Grian said. It's very unfair for those people who will lose their homes because of them. His heart constricts all of a sudden alongside with his glowing eyes illuminating a spot in the area.
Gosh, darn it!
Staggering towards the longcase clock, he winces in pain.
Not again!
why don't you just tell grian the truth?
Right?????
It'll be a load off your chest
“Over… my dead body.” Scar pants, gritting his teeth.
A R S O N
oooooooooohhh
let's wreak havoc, man
Pretty please?? With a cherry on top
KILL THE QUEEN
heck yeah
lolololol
Let's do it
That way, we can save the people in the slums
“I can't!” Scar's stomach drops at the idea. “That would be mean and Grian will be very sad.”
really scar?
We all know Grian never get along with his family for some reason
it's for angst so
He huffs and puffs in front of his goal and with a grunt, he pulls the clock to himself, watching as it falls in slow motion, and everything goes black.
Swinging his feet back and forth, Grian watches as Pearl chops an arm to harvest its meat with a cheerful hum.
Does she even get a lot from that? He thought arms are more muscles and bones than anything.
“Lemme guess… You fought with Scar today?” Pearl raises a brow without looking away.
“You- I- Who told you that?” Grian stammers, wincing at the sudden headache.
“There are only a few reasons why you always came to me first, mate.” Pearl huffs with a smirk. “And based on your grumpy face, Scar's the only option.
Did he somehow mess up in controlling his expressions? This is the one thing he's usually good at. Where did it go wrong?
“Stupid Scar, stupid slum.” Grian grumbles and crosses his arms, frowning for good measure.
“Look, if you hate him that much, why don't you dismiss him?” Pearl sets aside the skin.
“I'm not authorized for that.”
“You literally are!” Pearl turns to him and gapes in disbelief. “You're the one who hired him.” She turns her attention back to her task.
“The loyalty of my retainers will waver for pulling off something like that.” Grian shakes his head.
“Since when have you cared about your status as the prince?” Pearl questions incredulously.
“I… Touche.” Grian slumps his shoulders in defeat.
All these talks about him makes Grian suddenly recall how Scar saved his opponent during the royal tournament and risk losing, how he would always help the carpenters build numerous houses and add creative liberties to make them more beautiful and more comfortable to live in, and how he would always comfort Grian in his own, silly way when he's at his worst.
“Is it Scar?” Pearl's voice brings him back to the present.
“What?” Grian blurts.
“You look like a dad seeing his child all grown up with that proud smile on your face.” Pearl is doing the finishing touches on her raw meat sandwich.
Why did he do that?
He didn't want to upset him at all, but words just kept on coming out of his mouth without him realising it.
Dang it.
His heartbeat increases in response to these spiralling thoughts.
He shouldn't have done that.
Should he apologise now? He wants to see him. He doesn't want to be alone anymore.
Grian scoffs, “What kind of nonsense is that?”
Whether he's referring to his inner monologue or Pearl's statement, he's not sure.
“Admit it.” Pearl smirks as she nudges her elbow to Grian’s arm. “It's not that you can't, you just don't want him to leave.” She takes a bite out of her sandwich that's on her free hand.
That's it!
Grian screeches like a gremlin and dives to Pearl, starting a makeshift wrestling match in the middle of the night.
“Hello, nerds. What's up?” A familiar voice can be heard not long after.
Grian and Pearl end their shenanigans, watching Joel grimacing at their current, messy state.
“Er, what did I miss?” Joel inquires with a smirk.
“Nothing.” Grian casually pats his clothes. “What brings you here at this time of the day?”
“My sandwich…” Pearl grieves for her food splattered on the floor at the same time.
“Can't a handsome man such as myself grab some grub whilst visiting my favourite human?” Joel leans on the counter.
Grian retorts, “We all know that's a lie since you're so obsessed with Etho—”
“I'm not!” Joel squawks.
“—secondly, we only have meat here. Aren't dryads vegetarians or something since you're all ‘live, laugh, and love’?” He continues.
“Where did you get that dumb idea, Grian?” Joel shots back with an eye roll. “Obviously we're omnivores, you idiot.”
Video games.
Grian smugly replies instead, “Your mom.” Pearl snorts whilst he and Joel follow suit.
After a while, their laughter dies once they're done entertaining themselves with a joke that isn't even that funny.
“I assume you're gonna stay here and hang out for a few days, right?” Grian wipes a tear off his eye whilst sighing in relief.
“I sure am.” Joel agrees.
“I'll lead you to your room later since the previous one is occupied. For now, we'll prepare your meal and Pearl's sandwich, okay?”
Both of his supernatural friends cheer in agreement.
What just happened?
Scar winces from the sharp pain on his head, caressing it to see what the cause of the weird sensation, only to see a red liquid covering his palm.
Why is he—
Oh, right. He did this to himself.
A smell of something delicious enters his nose, making his stomach growl and mouth drool. With a gulp, he follows where the scent is the strongest eventually, leading him to Grian's private kitchen, forbidden from anyone to use. Pearl apparently prefers to prepare her own meals without causing any trouble with the palace servants, so the pesky prince provides it easily for her.
Once he enters, a cold sweat rolls down his forehead, a feeling of dread rising within him as he takes in what's inside the ice room. With its door wide open, he can vividly see a pale person with their arm missing. In morbid curiosity, he closes his distance to see if it's someone he knows.
He releases a breath he unknowingly holds, trembling hands covering his mouth in cold realization.
Did he just celebrate that it wasn't an acquaintance, despite knowing fully well that someone's dead inside Grian's private room of all places?
His growling stomach interrupts his gradually spiralling brain, yelping once he notices how his mouth is soaked with drool. As if a switch has been turned on, a wave of intense pain overwhelms his entire being, sensing how his body is being modified into something unrecognizable and monstrous against his will again.
Grian raised his head to take in the twilight sky, only to be met with cumulonimbus clouds, making the scenery depressing. He leaned on the veranda railing with a disappointed sigh.
“Why don't you apologise to Scar, so you guys can get along again?” Pearl suggested earnestly.
“Why should I? I didn't do anything wrong.” Grian didn't look away as he retorted indifferently.
“You know how he doesn't have experience regarding all these politics stuff. He only wants to see other people happy, and that's probably enough for him. Can you be the bigger man and cheer up our little troublemaker? Please?”
“Never.”
“That's what I said yesterday, but I probably have to apologise, right?” Grian ponders out loud.
It was like any other day where he and his friend played under the sun, but his friend went inside their house to get some refreshments. No one could predict that they would get in trouble then. It was a wrong place, wrong time situation. He already forgot the cause, but he could still clearly recall the fire eating the house from the inside through the open door.
Grian was standing there and he had a choice.
He chose wrong.
He contemplated whether to help his friend or not. The fire hurt, and he didn't like it. He could've gone in, yet he didn't. He was scared.
And that was the last time he ever saw his friend again.
It still feels like it was yesterday.
The sensation of hot air warming his cheeks and the smell of burnt flesh are still etched in his soul, haunting him to this day.
Emotions delay decisions. Caring hurts.
This is why the soulbound thing is so terrifying. Neither the magic beasts threatening lives nor the prophecy spelling his doom scare him.
The connection does.
He can tolerate befriending Pearl since she's technically already dead. Plus, Joel has the patron god of the wind with him, so it'll take more than a missile to take him down.
But what about Scar?
He doesn't want to experience it all over again.
Yeah, no.
Grian made a very compelling argument last time, so why should he toss away his pride and apologise?
Air is punched out of his lungs without warning, clasping at his aching chest as he gasps desperately. The rumbling outside his room causes his predicament to sound more dire. He falls on the carpeted floor, vision blurring slowly but surely. As the burning sensation courses through his veins, he tries to call for help but all that he can muster is a pathetic croak.
When he feels his consciousness fading out, he can suddenly breathe again. Without hesitation, he gasps for oxygen like a vacuum.
What is happening with his soulbound?
As if to respond with his question, alien thoughts begin to flood his head like they're his own. It's just like what happened during his birthday, before departing to the neighbouring kingdom, and whilst Pearl was making a sandwich.
It's wet, he's cold.
His stomach hurts very much, but he can't find anything to relieve it. He needs to stop it so badly, but he doesn't want Grian to hate him.
Please don't leave him.
He's scared.
Lightning strikes, illuminating the dim room temporarily. With those thoughts continuing to flow quickly, Grian sprints out of his room without hesitation.
The pouring rain drenches everything, making traversing difficult when Grian slips a few times. Since he can't seem to find the knight inside the palace, he moves his search outside, ignoring how he's freezing from being soaked all over. Hearing a commotion from the garden, he swiftly relocates.
The scenery he stumbles upon catches him off guard, gaping at Scar's hand emerging from Pearl's torso from behind. She turns to his direction and gives him a weak smile.
“Hi… Grian. Nice to see you… on this fine day.” Pearl grunts in pain, stepping forward as she dislodges herself from Scar's grasp.
“Pearl!” Grian cries, running as fast as he can but the knight is already bringing his sharp claws to her direction.
In a blur, Scar swipes at nothing as a vine wraps around Pearl's waist and pulls her away towards Joel.
“Grian, step back! You can't fight him.” Joel shouts as the lightning flashes, illuminating the dim area for a moment.
“Don't worry, I have an idea.” Grian reassures whilst rolling his now heavy sleeve. “Joel, look after Pearl and let her heal in a safe spot!”
If he recalls correctly, Scar expressed something about his stomach hurting. If that's the cause of his primal instincts taking over, then…
Please, two brain cells. Don't fail him now!
The brunette lunges to his direction with a screech, making it convenient for Grian. He brings his arm ahead of him and leaps forward, causing it to hit Scar's mouth. Without warning, sharp teeth dig through his flesh and rips it in one swift motion, making him howl in pain.
He retracts his injured arm to himself in reflex, observing any changes with Scar. Once the brunette is finished swallowing, he proceeds to attack mindlessly once more. The thunder crashes in the distance as if to spell his doom.
What?
Why does it not work?
Did he guess wrong? That should be correct, unless he's overestimating himself.
Is that not enough to quench his hunger?
If he grabs Pearl's supply from his kitchen, he doubts the brunette will let him get away that easily. He also prefers not to use himself as a meal, thank you very much.
“Grian!” Joel's voice calls from the distance as he continues to evade. “According to Aeolus, vexes are weak against sound, so she recommends you using the item you recently received, whatever that means.”
He suddenly remembers the gift Lucian gave to him and takes it out of his pocket. He guesses he'll have to properly thank Lucian at least for this later.
“Thanks, Lizzie!” Grian beams before sprinting to Scar's side.
“She prefers not to be called that in public for dramatic flair!” Joel reprimands in the background, making him huff fondly.
What will happen if he blows this thing with the capabilities of an airhorn to someone in point blank range?
Sorry for doing this, but he needs Scar to stop and fall asleep for now.
With an exaggerated inhale, he blows the loudest whistle in history. From amongst the sound of the rain and whistle, he can hear Scar screaming in agony before it's replaced with a splash. Grian stops to assess the situation, seeing an unconscious Scar on the grass whilst his vex features gradually dissipate.
Sensing his head wobbling, Grian wakes up with a groan as he feels movement on his pillow.
Wait, he never went to bed.
Jolting himself awake, he spots Scar about to leave his bed with wide eyes like a deer in the headlights.
“Well, hello there.” Scar casually greets as if he's not caught redhanded, making Grian laugh.
“Where do you think you're going, Scar? You can't leave here until you're fully recovered.” Grian questions teasingly.
“I- Well- Why, I was just trying to fix the bed since it's all wrinkly and ugly.” Scar explains confidently like someone from a commercial.
When both of them look down, the bed's ivory surface is as smooth as ice.
Scar grabs the blanket from the floor, “It- My blanket fell and I- I just wanna pick it up since it's very—” He pretends to shiver. “—Whew! Chilly. We can't have me going sick now, can we?”
Grian doesn't buy his nonsense whatsoever and apathetically pulls the knight to his bed.
“You're not going anywhere.” Grian lowers his voice.
“What about the bathroom?” Scar points out as he pulls out his puppy eyes.
“You can use this.” Grian grabs an empty vase from atop the bedside drawer.
“No!” Scar cries.
“Just kidding.” Grian returns the vase to its original spot. “Or am I?” He smirks, making Scar laugh like a window wiper.
A knock on the door interrupts them and falls into silence. Grian answers it, only for a maid to deliver breakfast for him and Scar and expresses his gratitude before closing the door with his back.
The radio silence extends for a while, occasionally interrupted by slurping sounds from drinking their respective beverages.
“Aren't you afraid of me?” Scar breaks the silence apprehensively.
“About you being half vex? I'm more disappointed you didn't tell me, to be honest. I was hoping that I heard it directly from your mouth rather than experiencing random pangs like I got voodooed.” Scar winces whilst Grian puts down his cup to his lap. “But I can understand why you didn't.” He stares at the porcelain surface, cold to the touch.
“Is it because you don't care if I was human or not?” Scar asks with a quiet voice, barely visible from the pitter-patter of rain by the window.
“There's that as well. In case you forgot, I got a bloodthirsty vampire pestering me from time to time, plus a dryad that could demolish this entire place if you insult his wife.” Grian counts his fingers and huffs fondly at his ridiculous circle of friends. “He's supposed to be a messenger to someone who physically can't come here. How on earth did they manage to get married?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Oh. Jimmy also exists but he's absent, so he doesn't get to complain if I dissed at him.” He adds impassively.
Scar snorts, “Right. I did forget about that until recently.”
Noticing both of their mugs are empty, Grian silently offers to take Scar's off his hands and bring them to a different table by the door before returning to his seat.
“Are you still, ehm, having a hard time falling asleep?” Grian starts apprehensively, fidgeting with his hands.
“A bit, but it's getting easier lately. Why?” Scar shrugs his shoulders in response.
“If you want, we can search and bring Jellie, Finny, and Katy here.” Grian suggests solemnly.
Scar flinches with wide eyes, “How did you know those names?”
“Sometimes, I get these weird thoughts randomly and didn't realise until yesterday that they were actually yours.” Grian rubs the back of his neck.
“But… are we allowed, though?” Scar focuses his attention on fiddling with his blanket. “They're not exactly ordinary cats. It'll also be difficult to find them in this vast land.” His nose scrunches as his lips tremble.
“I'm only the second prince, Scar. They'll be fine without me.” Grian waves a dismissive hand.
“You really need to give yourself more credit, dude.” Scar huffs fondly as Grian only shrugs impassively. “Wait. If you can read my subconscious, does this mean you know what a maui, a car, or an england is?” Grian's heart skips a beat. “I keep getting these weird words and it's confusing!”
The implied request to explain causes his breath to hasten, alongside with his chest to thump faster in response with the dread weighing down on him. Sweat rolls down his forehead and back, trying to focus on the rain outside but the drumming in his ears drowns them out. As if something snaps, he loses strength to resist and finally gives in.
“I… It's gonna be a long story.” Grian mumbles in quiet surrender and bows his head.
“I think we have all day.” Scar’s voice casually replies.
Grian sighs affectionately and begins to share everything about his previous life before coming to this world. He's never been more exhausted than today.
“O-Oh, is that why you kept yearning for your family when they're right here? I-I'm sorry.” Scar apologises solemnly.
“It's all cool. I just need more time to accept everything, I guess.” Grian concludes with a shrug.
“If you came from a world with a lot of cool stuff, that means I can show you all the amazing things here!” Scar vibrates with excitement as he grins ear to ear.
“You- Let's not get ahead of ourselves here.” Grian places his hands ahead of him placatingly.
“We can visit Treacherous Mountain during our journey and ride dragons!”
“Scar—”
“Ooh! How about we navigate through different dungeons or discover ancient ruins rumored to be filled with treasures or swim at the Reverse Falls? We can cannonball to the sky instead of below!”
This is going to be a long journey. But he doubts that he'll ever get bored of it.
The sunlight emitting from the open may have warmed up the study, but the atmosphere is chilling to the bone. The Queen's ginger curls shimmers, bouncing whenever she moves to retrieve another document to sign. He can feel Scar getting antsy from behind as they've been waiting for what seems like a few hours for that verdict.
Grian mustered his courage and asked permission to go on a journey for nothing.
Based on how long she's been pending her response (or the lack thereof), either she doesn't intend to give any and wait for them to leave on their own or she doesn't care enough to immediately provide any answer.
“Are you aware how your family treats you?”
Scar's question from a few days back pops up in his mind.
“Of course, I do. Why wouldn't I when we've been living under the same roof, albeit with about seven hundred staff members, for twenty years?” Grian provided an exasperated reply.
“Okay, if you really insist…” Scar narrowed his emerald eyes. “...why did Prince Lucian give you that gift?”
“The whistle? Wasn't it to intimidate and show that he knew my every move and could get rid of me anytime?” Grian explained in a heartbeat.
He didn't have to stop and look for an answer since it was obvious.
“You—” Scar massaged the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “His Highness worked his butt off for weeks just to investigate what your interests were. And! He didn't even have a decent sleep for months working on that thing.” He clarified in frustration. “I feel so sorry for His Highness for having such a horrible sibling.” He shakes his head dramatically.
“Come on. I'm not that bad.” Grian placed a hand on his hip. “And what's the point of bringing this up?”
“Oh, my gosh.” Scar sighed in disbelief. “My point is for you to start taking things at face value, Grian. That way, you'll see that your family here might be worth missing for, too.”
Scar's advice loops in his brain like a broken record. Shaking his head to return to the present, he notices that the scenery ahead of him barely changes.
Her illuminated charm is as smooth, elegant, and comforting as silk, but every word she speaks is deadly like poison. Rooms falls silent under her presence with reverence instead of fear. He sees a queen, whose affection is even rarer than her touch, rather than a mother.
The movement on her hand finally halts, putting down the feathered quill as she makes eye contact. Finally.
"You’ve always struggled to belong here. Perhaps you'll fare better out there." The Queen says calmly.
The pang in his chest perfectly expresses his disappointment from the uttered words that clearly lack warmth.
Start taking things at face value.
"Go where you must. Take only what you need.” The Queen tucks her ginger locks behind her ear. “Oh, and don’t worry. This kingdom will survive without you.” She concludes with a wry smile.
That way, you'll see that your family here might be worth missing for, too.
Clearing his jumbled mind, he gives her another chance. If Scar is wrong about this, he'll only have plain hay for dinner for the next few days on their journey.
What? He didn't do anything wrong!
Scar's inner thoughts slip into his, making him internally grin in victory.
Focusing on the task at hand, Grian observes the living specimen that is Her Royal Highness herself. There's nothing to differentiate, though! She always wears this unbothered expression wherever she goes.
She's that confident in anything she does. Heck, he won't be surprised that if a tidal wave somehow threatens to wipe out the entire kingdom, she won't bat an eye.
He winces at the sunlight hitting his eye unexpectedly, noticing the source to be reflected illumination from her exposed earring.
Wait, since when does she ever tuck her hair? He never saw her ever doing that either in public or in private. Even if he does, it only occurs once every blue moon and one of them has to be now.
When did she last do it? During his birthday.
Is he reading too much into this?
Now that he thinks about it, her eyes seem to lack the usual sharpness that can pierce through any armour with a simple gaze.
His eyes widens in epiphany.
Is she really the cold and ruthless ruler everyone thinks she is?
If he's also wrong about Lucian and if the multiple attempts on his life aren't their fault, does this mean his family hating him is all in his mind?
His head hurts from all this thinking.
“I won't.” Grian replies. “I'll make sure to bring you guys souvenirs when we get back.” He smiles genuinely, sensing the weight lifted off his shoulders.
The Queen gapes for a moment before rapidly retrieving her pen, signing away important documents piling up on the expensive table.
“Don't forget to close the door on your way out.” She comments offhandedly.
It's finally time. The Queen, his mother—despite her harsh sounding words last time— generously provided everything they will ever need. Grian isn't sure how long will this journey take. Heck, they might never come back due to some unprecedented event. But he already steeled his resolve a while back and he's not about to waver like a chicken anytime soon.
They start to pack their essentials, obtaining this rhythm in their movement that makes things smoother. Apart from a few sounds emitted from certain items, the silence in the room extends for a while until…
“Did you ever hate being soulbound with me?” Scar starts with a quiet voice.
Oh, that's an unexpected question. But he guesses it's a very Scar thing to worry about this kind of thing.
“When I didn't know who it was… Yes, initially. But when I discovered that it was you, I felt relieved.” Grian shares solemnly as he places a leather bottle inside his bag.
“Don't you hate being inflicted with my chronic pain and other ‘oopsie’ injuries?” Scar’s voice cracks.
“It kind of is annoying as they get in the way when I do something that requires careful movement. But it's manageable outside of it.” Grian closes his back once it feels like he packed everything. “Plus, I have all the time in the world to get used to it.” He shrugs casually.
“Are you sure?” Scar purses his lips in apprehension.
“I'm sure, buddy.” Grian reassures with a pat on the brunette's back. “Let's go, shall we?”
Scar nods with a relieved expression.
And so, they head to the unknown. Together.