#so im not used to not being able to pop outside and see the greenery whenever i want

[grimandghoulish]

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[skywillsometimeswrite]

Pieces of Glass Ch. 1

Read it on AO3

The Angry-Comforting Mother

Scar knew his "magic crystals" were absolutely worthless, just shards of glass he spent way too much time making look good so he could really sell the wizard vibe he was going for this season. The whole thing annoyed Grian, too, so that was an added bonus. It was fun, and Scar didn't really care if Grian didn't play along with his magic bit as easily as some of the other hermits. What Scar wasn't prepared for, though, was finding out that Grian was a huge hypocrite, and the wings that appeared on his back are a dead giveaway. 

Grian: you ready dude?

The beep from his communicator made him jump, causing him to drop the diamond helmet he had been enchanting. He flinched at the loud clang it made against the floor before picking it up again, looking closer at the small glowing runes etched into it. His Galactic was getting better, he figured, since he was able to recognize when the useful enchants were placed on his gear. None of which were on this helmet. He shrugged and fitted it on top of his wizard hat before pulling out his communicator to reply.

GoodTimeWithScar: You bet! Let’s go get ourselves some wings!

iskall85: you two are going into the end? alone? you guys are so going to die.

Grian: no way. not until i have an elytra in my enderchest

Grian: then i can die

GoodTimeWithScar: I’d rather avoid dying as much as possible.

ZombieCleo: can’t wait to see how that goes for you scar

Grian: im outside larry

Sure enough he heard a rock land on the ground next to him, thrown in from his doorway -- that was missing his door, for some reason -- and when he looked over the edge of the ladder he saw the iconic red sweater underneath the diamond armor. He didn’t understand how Grian could wear that in the jungle, when it was always so hot and humid. Scar was uncomfortable as it was, and he wasn’t even wearing pants! At least, he didn’t, most of the time. The armor was not making him sweat any less over his robe, though.

He quickly scurried down the ladder, jumping the rest of the way onto the slime blocks below to greet Grian with a smile. “Hello!”

“Hey Scar. You ready for this?”’

“Yes! Dude, I miss my wings so much.” Grian chuckled in agreeance and pulled out his communicator, presumably to look up the coordinates for the Stronghold. Then Scar remembered: “Oh, before we go, I prepared these for us.”

He handed Grian three small crystals: one green, one red, and one a pale orange. Grian held them in his unoccupied hand, staring at them with a confused glint in his eyes. He looked at them closer, testing how the light reflected off them, then looked at Scar unimpressed. “Bits of glass?”

“What? No! They’re magic crystals!”

“Dude, these are just shards of glass you sanded down. Great craftsmanship, but, like, these are totally worthless.”

“No they’re not. They’re- they’re magic! See, the red one gives you a health boost, the green one gives a little extra luck, and then the orange one-”

“Just sits uselessly in my inventory taking up valuable end-loot space? Yeah, thanks, but no thanks, dude.” He tossed the crystals back to Scar who scrambled to catch them midair before starting to walk away.

“W-Wait! They’ll be helpful!” He caught up to walk side by side with his friend, holding out the shards to him again. “Come on, Grian, trust your friendly neighborhood wizard, huh? The End’s a dangerous place and we can’t fly to get around yet so we could use all the help we can get, right?”

Grian gave one last look at the “crystals,” then to the man trying to scam him out of inventory space. Scar was giving him that look. That “I can do no wrong and I will win everyone over in the end” look that Scar had realized worked just as well on Grian as it had on Cub and Doc in the past. With a long sigh and an overdramatic groan he took the glass shards from the wizard. “Fine. But if I run out of room these are the first things getting tossed into the void.”

Grian led them to the stronghold, having gotten the coordinates from Xisuma after he had ventured in with Tango a few days ago. They made idle chat, Scar pointing out little observations, but their trek was mostly silent as Grian was focused on making sure they didn’t get turned around in an extraordinarily unremarkable section of the jungle with no orienting landmarks other than trees, trees, and more trees.

After guiding them through the greenery, a boat ride, and getting only a little turned around in the Stronghold, they stood above the end portal. Scar did one last check through his inventory, making sure he had his water bucket, a pumpkin, some food, and, of course, his magical crystals. Satisfied with his preparedness he looked over at Grian, opening his mouth to ask if he was ready to go, but he stopped when he saw the other man’s glare that looked like he was trying to rip the portal into atoms with his mind.

“Uh, if you stare into it for too long you’ll get dizzy.” Scar offered, noticing how Grian’s glare only faltered when he blinked, morphing into one of poorly hidden concern. “Everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Of course it is.” The smile Grian gave was strained and he didn’t look Scar in the eyes as he spoke, glancing between the spot behind him and the portal. “Are we certain that the dragon’s already been killed?”

“I don’t see any reason it wouldn’t be. Usually if the portal’s activated it means one of the hermits have already gone in.” He paused for a second, but when Grian’s concern didn’t fade he followed up: “That means the dragon’s been defeated, yes.”

“That’s good.” Silence dragged on between them for a few awkward moments before Grian decided to elaborate on that. “W-We don’t have to deal with that, I mean. It’s good we don’t have to deal with that.”

Scar rested a hand on Grian’s armorer shoulder, looking down at him with what he hoped was a gentle, comforting look. “It’s okay to be scared of the End, Grian. It’s a scary place! But that’s why none of us ever go in alone. We watch each other’s backs. And I’ll watch yours with all of my magical ability.” He placed his other hand on his own chest, standing proudly and attempting to fill the other man with his own confidence.

Grian’s eyes grew distant at Scar’s words, their dark color glassing over in a way Scar had never seen before, but it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. Grian gave Scar a small smile, it much less forced than his previous one. “Yeah, you guys are cool like that. Come on, let’s not waste any more time. We have wings to find and flying to be done.”  The small hermit’s grin was wide as he gripped Scar’s arm with a firm hand and pulled them both into the starry, inky blackness awaiting them.

Scar wasn’t foreign to the feeling of being transported to the End, the strange tingling, numbing feeling that came with travelling beyond the overworld. It wasn’t like transporting to the Nether, which felt like weights were dropped onto your shoulders and took some time to get used to again if you hadn’t experienced it for longer than a week.  The End didn’t feel kinder than the Nether, per se, but it was calmer, at least until you saw the endless void below you that would swallow you and your items up if you made one misstep.

This time, though, as Scar materialized into the dimension he almost believed he stepped into the wrong portal, as an unfamiliar feeling covered him. It pulled at his hair and flowed underneath his armor and circled around his arms. He wasn’t alarmed by it, entranced more than anything, and he felt whatever it was slip down his arms and off the tips of his fingers, leaving him almost reaching for it, as soon as Grian appeared at his side.

Scar stood there, staring dangerously towards the main island from the platform they were on, and tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. A hand waving in front of his face snapped him out of his trance, his eyes blinking furiously to return the moisture they desperately lacked. He rubbed at them with his hands for a moment but then looked at them and tried to imagine the feeling wrapping itself around his fingers again.

“Scar? Dude? You good?”

Grian’s higher pitched voice was like a needle popping the balloon of dense fog that had surrounded Scar’s thoughts. He blinked a few more times, shaking his head, and looking down at his friend whose hand was still lingering in the air.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Guess it's been longer than I thought since I was in the End. Caught me off guard, that’s all.” Scar rubbed the back of his neck, patting the hairs down that were still raised.

Grian narrowed his eyes at Scar for a brief moment, as if to deduce if he was lying, before letting out what he hoped was a sigh of relief. Grian turned to face the main island, shoving a pumpkin over his head, and made his way across the rickety path that Tango and Xisuma had made. Scar wordlessly followed behind and paid special attention to where his feet landed.

Hours passed by them, friendly banter was shared, but they were getting tired. Grian all but pushed Scar into building the next bridge, and he carefully placed cobblestone slab one after the other. The mindless task he had done several times in the span of the last few hours left his mind to wander. And it wandered right back to the feeling he had when he entered the dimension. He wanted to know what it was. He had experience with stuff like the Vex in the past, but it had felt nothing like the overwhelming surge of power that he had come to know with that magic.

This had felt gentle, yet purposeful. Powerful, but cradling. It was like a mother’s hug when comforting a guilty child for breaking her favorite vase because they had played baseball inside when she had told them not to. It was unwarranted, unexpected, yet it was comforting, but foreboding because you didn’t know how long it would last or when it would change, if it would change. Scar knew, deep down, he should be terrified, but he could only find intrigue in it all.

“Scar.” Grian’s quiet voice once again grounded him, Scar was noticing this trend, and he looked up only to feel his heart stop in his chest. He was standing on a lone slab that was disconnected from the rest of his bridge. Grian stood on the rest of the bridge, pickaxe in hand and mischievous grin on his face.

“Oh geez! No, no!” Scar yelped, placing down some more blocks in his white-knuckled grasp. The devilish snickers from the other made a smile creep on his face, and when he looked up he saw the path repaired. “Y’know, I’m a magic man, but I’m not that magic.”

They returned to silence again, it comfortably hanging over them. Scar stood up from his hunched position to stretch his back, and felt his stomach twist at the drop that awaited them without the bridge. He glanced over at Grian, the other man lazily staring at the cobblestone beneath him.

“Do you have your lucky crystal on you?” Grian’s eyes shot up to meet Scar’s and his hand rummaged in his pocket until he pulled out the shards of glass that he had given him earlier. Scar smiled and went back to his bridging. “Thank god, I was worried that-” A green glint of color sped past the corner of his vision and his eyes followed it as it fell into the void below, face contorting in what he could only assume was comical fear by the way Grian laughed at him. “No! Dude! That was magic, man! You just brought bad luck upon us!”

“No, no, no. We’ll be fine. What could possibly go wrong?”

Scar’s grips on his blocks tightened at that, something itching at the back of his mind and making his nose wiggle. “At least- At least hold the health one.” He told him, exasperated, as he shook off his uncertainty.

“Okay,” was the simple response he got, and before he could utter a thanks he spotted a red dash fly near him.

He knew it was just glass. He knew that, realistically, they didn’t actually do anything. It was all a bit. A little bit of fun annoying Grian by insisting that these shards of glass actually had magical properties. 

And yet he still reached out to grab it.

Something told him to.

Something told him not to let it fall into the void below him.

That something left him as soon as his hand wrapped around the red shard, and his feet slipped from the platform.

“Scar-!” was the last thing he heard before the rushing wind invaded his senses and whatever had come over Scar was ripped away as he felt nothing beneath him. He managed to spin and look up at the quickly retracting bridge he had just spent the last few minutes building so this very thing wouldn’t happen.

“Grian! Help!” He didn’t even hear his own useless, panic laced cries as he quickly fell away from the sound towards his painful death. He knew Grian couldn’t do anything. They hadn’t found an elytra yet. Grian was just as helpless as he was in this situation.

Scar gripped the crystal to his chest, wishing it had been the green one instead, and shut his eyes, bracing himself for the suffocating feeling of dying in the void. Why did Grian have to throw away the glass? Why did he have to try and catch it? Why couldn’t he have let it fall? They were useless, anyways. They wouldn’t save him now.

Against the encroaching darkness that was consuming him, a bright yellow light managed to make it’s way past his eyelids. He cracked one eye open but opened both as he saw something shining a bright golden color right behind his now faraway bridge. He distantly felt the feeling of the calm-angry mother tugging at the crystal in his hands.

Something was falling off the bridge now, towards him. It was falling incredibly fast and was incredibly big, and it took Scar way too long to realize that it was his fellow Hermit. Panic spread through his body tenfold at this realization. No! He thought. Both of us don’t need to die! As Grian got closer and closer to Scar at speeds that didn’t make sense, Scar noticed that the other’s back was… glowing?

Before he could make any sense of this observation, the faux wizard felt the breath in his lungs ripped from him, leaving him gasping painfully. He shut his tearing eyes against the pain that blossomed in his chest, and attempted to curl in on himself. His mind was overwhelmed with his own near death, that he completely forgot about Grian’s impending one.

It would be painful, much more than it was now, and long, but at least he would have an excuse to lay in bed for a few days while his internal wounds healed. That was the worst part of dying to the void, how it killed you from the inside out. That and that there was no way to retrieve what you lost. He would have to get all his good gear back, but he was used to that. He distantly realized he would have to come back, unfortunately, and most likely soon if he was going to get an elytra.

It felt like he was being stabbed through the throat, chest, and stomach all at once with a barbed, poison-tipped blade. Part of him wondered if his health boost crystal was actually working and prolonging his pain by healing him. It didn’t really matter, he didn’t think he could get his hands to let go of it at this point if he wanted to.

Next thing he knew, what little breath he had left was knocked out of him and a firm warmth surrounded him. Huh, well that’s new. The weightlessness that he had been experiencing had disappeared and a nauseating feeling flipped his stomach as he coughed up his lung trying to breath again. Have I already respawned?

Scar slowly opened his eyes only to be greeted with red, not the comforting purple and brown of his bed in Larry’s shell. He figured that the air was still as thin as it was in the End, because he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He was pressed up against the soft, red whatever, and the hand not holding the crystal gripped it weakly. 

As soon as it felt as if he was finally breathing comfortably again, the air was knocked from him for the third time in what he could only assume was the last ten seconds. He rolled away from whatever he had been by, his armor no doubt denting at the way he bounced along the hard endstone. When he came to a stop he simply stared up at the void-sky and decided to focus on the chorus flowers instead. It took yet more coughing and shaky breaths before he was breathing easily and Scar finally processed what had just happened. Or rather the fact that he had absolutely no idea what had just happened. 

He had just been falling, hadn’t he? He had just been falling, with no elytra, into the void after he basically jumped in after a useless piece of stained glass that his end busting partner, who also had no elytra, had thrown. He had felt himself dying in the void. He knew he had. And yet here he was, lying on the uncomfortable, uneven endstone.

He groaned and slowly propped himself up on his elbows, making a note that he was indeed still holding the red glass in his hand so at least that venture hadn’t been in vain. His head spun at the new orientation but it didn’t last long and he was scanning his surroundings. He spotted the narrow cobble bridge he had built but felt his heart stop when he saw no red-sweater clad, crystal throwing Hermit standing on it. “Grian?” He rasped, his throat raw, as panic started to seep into him.

A groan from his left caught his attention and his head snapped over to look at the culprit and gaped. Propped up on his hands a few blocks away was the familiar, unmistakable features of Grian: red sweater, blonde hair, short stature. Scar wasn’t occupied with the fact that his friend was there completely fine, no that was normal, what wasn’t normal was the giant golden feathered wings that sprouted from the small hermit’s back.

Scar’s near death experience was completely forgotten, and he felt what was becoming a familiar sensation tug at the back of his collar when he began connecting pieces without fully understanding how they fit together. Grian was the only other hermit here, and he was clearly the one in front of him. It was undeniable and yet completely unbelievable. Scar had been presumably carried by something red and warm back up to the island he was laying on now from at least 100 meters below it. Grian had a red sweater, was definitely strong enough to carry the twig that was Scar, and had gigantic wings that looked more than capable of making the treacherous journey from death.

The other pushed himself up to sit on his knees and his eyes slowly opened. Scar made a strangled noise as he noticed the white glow that faded from them and returned them to their usual dark brown.

Grian’s head snapped over to him. “Scar! Oh my god, Scar are you okay?” His voice was echoing with worry. Literally. There was a reverb to it that garbled his words. Grian must have noticed this since he slapped a hand over his mouth.

“I…” Scar didn’t have words, his mouth dry and mind too blank to think of closing it. He blinked. “Yeah.” He said lamely, his voice pitched three octaves to high.

Silence covered them as Grian seemed hesitant to speak and Scar was still wrapping his mind around everything. Why did Grian have wings? Why had Grian’s eyes been glowing? Why did his voice sound like that? Was all of this actually normal? Did Scar just not see Grian nearly enough during last season to know this about him?

“Uh,” Grian mumbled behind his hand, shoulders falling from his ears when it didn’t come out like a bad feedback loop.

“So,” Scar tacked on, finally closing his mouth. He tried to think of a proper way to go about this but his brain was apparently still fried since all he managed was: “What just happened?”

“I don’t know!” Grian quickly responded, throwing his arms up in the air above him.

“You have wings?”

“I just saw you falling and-”

“Is this normal for you?”

“No! Well, I mean, I guess I panicked and-”

“Why were your eyes glowing?”

“My eyes were what?” Grian’s voice matched Scar’s in a panicked pitch. He sat up on his knees, patting the sides of his head.

“They were glowing. They aren’t anymore though.” Scar quickly reassured him, sitting cross legged and facing him. They shared a staring contest of sorts, Scar searching for answers and Grian’s expression providing none. “So, wings, huh?”

Grian sat up straighter, head swiveling to look behind him at the appendages that were attached to his back. Scar couldn’t see his face from the angle, but the way he hesitated when reaching back to touch them and how he flinched back when he barely grazed the feathers made him wonder if they hurt. Grian had gotten as close as Scar had been to the void, after all. Scar flipped the red glass in his hand, almost offering it to the other as a way to lighten the mood, but stopped when he remembered it was these stupid things that caused this whole ordeal in the first place. Grian turned away from his wings, hands curled up in his lap. He stared at the endstone and Scar glanced between it and Grian, trying to find whatever it was the other was looking for. He didn’t find it, though, because Grian stood up and offered a hand to help Scar up.

They both seemed shaky as Scar stood, and Grian made sure he didn’t fall as soon as he was on his own two feet again. Looking down at Grian, his wings didn’t look nearly as big. He wondered if they had shrunk or if it had been perspective the entire time. He also noted that the golden color they had been had dulled significantly to a pale yellow.

“Do you think you can make it back home without falling off another bridge?” Grian asked quietly, a steadying hand still on Scar’s arm as he looked up at him with concern.

“Uh,” Now that Scar was standing, and attention had been dragged away from Grian’s sudden transformation, the weight of what had nearly happened hit him like a falling anvil. His chest and throat still burned, his head pounded with a headache right behind his eyes, and his stomach felt like it was sloshing around inside of him. The hand that held the “crystal” was beginning to cramp and he wiggled the glass into a pocket on his robe under his armor. He took a deep breath in from his nose and let any remaining tension in his body fade and gave Grian as reassuring of a smile as he could manage. “Yeah, I think I’ll be fine.”

Grian looked relieved, giving him a nod. “Good, then you head back.”

“What about you?”

Grian walked back out onto the bridge that Scar had built what felt like hours ago and looked down at it, pulling out some blocks from his inventory. “I’m gonna keep going and see if I can find anything.”

“What? Alone? Grian, there’s a reason we use the buddy system. Heck, you just proved why-”

“Scar, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. You go rest, okay?” Scar opened his mouth to protest but Grian didn’t let him. “I need some time to think, anyways. May as well try and get something out of it in the process.” Scar still wasn’t convinced. He gave Grian a hard stare and watched as the younger man sank in on himself under the scrutiny. He looked down and then back up at Scar, a pleading look in his eyes, and spoke with a quiet voice. “Please, Scar. I’ll be fine.”

Scar gave him the same look he had given Cub and Doc countless times last season when they were working too hard, but gave up when the effort made his headache pound and he brought a hand up to rub his temples. He sighed. “Alright, okay, I’ll go home. But you better come see me the second you get back, okay?”

Grian stood up a little straighter, seeming surprised that Scar had agreed. “Okay, Scar, I will.”

Scar turned around the way they came and found the bridge that they had made to get to the current island. He carefully made his way across it and many others as he trekked back to the portal home. He tried putting a pumpkin over his head as an extra safety measure but decided he would risk the angry endermen instead when squinting through the face of the halloween decoration made his headache worse. He kept his tired eyes on the ground for the most part anyways. Who knew that nearly dying in the void was just as tiring as actually dying in the void?

Before long his feet splashed in water and he risked looking up, smiling happily as he spotted the bedrock circle that would drop him right back into his comfy bed in Larry’s shell. He let himself fall into the portal, embracing the numbness that came with it until he was on top of the purple blanket that he so desperately wanted to curl up in. He had enough of a conscience left to shrug his armor off and even take his robe off, haphazardly throwing it somewhere on the floor. Not waiting a second longer, Scar snuggled up into the soft wool of his bed and drifted to sleep.