"Pearl, you don't need to be here," Gem tried to tell her. "I mean, I saw when he popped out of nowhere! And I took off to tell X here, but you don't have to-."
"I saw his face, Gem," Pearl said bluntly. "There are shapeshifters out there, you know that. So either that is G-Grian, or it knows where Grian is."
"Pearl, you may not get the answer you're looking for-."
"I want to know how he died, Xisuma," Pearl stated, smiling in a forced grimacing snarl. "I want to know, and- and I deserve that. After all these years, please…Let me have this."
"So this is Grian," Impulse said, eyebrows lifted and skepticism clear. He frowned a bit, squinting to try and peer at the enormous bird-monstrosity with a different sort of sight.
"Apparently," Tango agreed. The man twiddled a bit of his hair, sparking occasionally from static electricity or something distinctly nether. The man exhaled quickly through his nose, narrowing his red eyes at the creature pointedly. "I'm not saying that this is all awefully convenient, but…doesn't it rub you the wrong way?"
"Oh absolutely," Impulse agreed. The man sighed, settling heavily on his rear next to Tango. "It's all strange timing. I mean, when it was just Scout there was some degree of possibility of us finding…well. You know."
"What, Mambo's mysteriously presumed-dead friend?" Tango asked a little sarcastic. There was a dark bite to his words, a level of cynical acidity behind every tonal inflection. "That man was a mess for months. And we're supposed to just…accept the fact he's here? And a weird freaky bird monster?"
Impulse didn't want to agree, but there was some truth to his words.
This is what the story was. A number of years ago, Mumbo wouldn't stop talking about his good cheery friend! They had met…somewhere Impulse didn't quite remember, but after hitting it off the poor mustached Hermit would not stop talking about him. It was always what Grian was doing- hosting cute little competitions, running into old friends. Visiting Mumbo's personal server and messing up his redstone. It wasn't all shenanigans, Mumbo had spoke and praised Grian's architectural eye and ability to build to the high heavens. He had claimed to many people that Grian was hermit material, just waiting to create the next masterpiece. With Grian's talents, he undoubtedly had worked for public servers before- but then, right when Xisuma was actually planning on visiting the man to truly interview him for the esteemed hermit position…Grian vanished.
As in, actively vanished. His ID in server logs were removed, his name blanked out. His last visit was long past the last time Mumbo talked to him. In between day cycles, Grian simply vanished to the world, in all resemblance to a permadeath. The fact that Evo, the pet project Grian had loosely explained to Mumbo before his long absence, was a closed private server…well, they all presumed the worst.
Mumbo, of course, took it hard. It wasn't typical mourning, because mourning did not come all at once and resolve cleanly. It came unassumingly, sneaking into all things until Mumbo would stay quiet and distant for weeks at a time before being filled with a manic energy. He built things, attempting his hand at creating in mimicry of a style no hermit had seen before. Mumbo had talked about Grian, and when Grian vanished Mumbo made sure that he was remembered in chiseled stone and quartz. Mumbo built an enormous thing that season, fueled by tears and spite, and in truth- it was gorgeous.
That was seasons ago, and time evolved. Mumbo built a living base, incorporating styles he had never used before. Impulse didn't want to admit it, but Grian's passing had made Mumbo into both a better builder, and a better person.
And now? Grian had crashed conveniently into their server with no evidence to support how, wearing the face of a man Mumbo recognized in the middle of an anxiety attack. Impulse was ready to draw his sword and call out Scout for his lies.
Except, and Tango had grudgingly mentioned this before, Scout wasn't exactly cognitively able to even try to fool them. The poor thing was so daft and simple, it probably would spook at the sight of a pumpkin. The creature was clearly not an animal, but forced into the worst case of code manipulation and torture any of them had ever seen.
Putting a name to a face didn't change the fact that Scout deserved kindness and sympathy. Even if it all was quite suspicious. If it had been only Mumbo, then Impulse would have argued it was a ruse. Scout had demonstrated an odd unsettling ability before to make even the bravest people cower with strange paranoia and anxiety, poor Etho had looked hideously uncomfortable as he explained his personal experience. Phantom's were able to detect how long it had been since you last slept. Some void-creatures were able to scent you out and see you even if invisible. How impossible would it before a new species or type of hybrid to casually read your mind or mimic those from your memories?
But then, it was Pearl who had grudgingly confessed in a monotone that yes, it was indeed Grian. Multiple odd things had been lining up, bits of suspicion she had for years finally coming to light. The recent visit from Jimmy and Martyn gave her the opportunity to really reflect back on her past, and identify some areas of concern. Grian had never been found, and the server eventually collapsed. The void was a deep hell pit of endless darkness, but Grian had been an admin- he could have found a way to escape somehow.
Unless something had stopped him, unless something had taken him.
Scout was a Watcher, easy enough to understand. Scout was a horrible Watcher, even easier to understand. Xisuma was a horrible voidwalker, normally his species was made of nightmares and consumed the beginnings of new worlds to sate their appetite. Xisuma walked around mimicking an axolotl. It wasn't that ridiculous to accept that all Watchers weren't exactly good at being terrifying.
Scout was a horrible Watcher, Scout had also had his code snagged and tangled into a disgusting violation of basic rights. The basic ability to comprehend language, and subsequent memories and cognitive processing, was stripped from him violently. This was not consensual because no person in their right mind would ever consent to wasting away into nothingness.
"This whole situation is the worst, ugh," Tango muttered. He stretched his legs out, then stretched his toes until his entire limb vibrated. With a yawn, he curled himself back up and scowled. "And this all happened because Doc let two withers escape?"
"Apparently," Impulse stated. "Cub said that Scout teleported or did something, and just…appeared. One-shot killed a wither on contact."
Tango whistled, drumming his fingers on his thighs. "Dang, not so wimpy then?"
"Apparently not," Impulse agreed.
Everything started at the Boatem Hole, where Scout had lived deep in the depths and first interacted with Impulse. It felt so long ago that they were throwing him offerings. It felt like a different time, long beyond their reach. It had started at the Boatem hole, and apparently it ended there as well.
"We should have known Mumbo didn't make those bush things," Tango complained, waving one hand to a very nicely decorated section to his mountain. "And here I was, ready to compliment the guy!"
"Shouldn't have trusted the potato man," Impulse teased. His heart wasn't in it, neither was Tango's.
Instead, the two sat beside each other on one of Boatem's little benches. Overlooking both the Boatem Hole into the void, and the new opening to a thin alcove in a base of a mountain. Thinner than Fifi's lair, the crack spiraled upwards until smaller than a block. Scar had filled the gap between Pearl's unique granite mountain cliffs, and Mumbo's more geometric mountain edges. It felt ironic, and somehow fitting that Scout, the Boatem Mascot, had been sleeping so close to home.
Currently, they were watching the bumbling awkward creature occasionally flutter oddly through the small crack in the rock. They passed a spyglass back and forth, not willing to get closer but too curious to leave.
"What sort of name is Grian anyways?" Tango complained, passing the spyglass back to Impulse. "He looks like a bird. Or a chicken. Poultry."
"Poultry man is a horrible name," Impulse said. "I think he looks more like…a Charlie. Charles?"
"Dude, never get a dog," Tango said, laughing heartily. He grinned, canines poking into his bottom lip. "Seriously though, how are you doing?"
"I'm okay," Impulse said, smiling. At times, Tango's earnest concern was blazingly obvious. At first glance, you'd never expect it, but the man did care deeply for his friends. "I'm doing okay."
"Are you sure you want to come with?" Xisuma asked, offering Pearl one last moment.
"Yeah Pearl, you don't need to be here," GeminiTay tried to console her. The shorter woman smiled softly, her ears batting around.
Pearl inhaled carefully. She exhaled in a measured smooth breath. Rhythmic, just as all box breathing exercises taught her. "It's fine. I need to be here- who else can confirm his identity?"
Gem and Xisuma shared a glance, then looked at Pearl with yet more concern.
"Pearl, you don't need to be here," Gem tried to tell her. "I mean, I saw when he popped out of nowhere! And I took off to tell X here, but you don't have to-."
"I saw his face, Gem," Pearl said bluntly. "There are shapeshifters out there, you know that. So either that is G-Grian, or it knows where Grian is."
"Pearl, you may not get the answer you're looking for-."
"I want to know how he died, Xisuma," Pearl stated, smiling in a forced grimacing snarl. "I want to know, and- and I deserve that. After all these years, please…Let me have this."
Gem exhaled quickly, shifting her weight. The stone flooring outside the recently excavated mountain clattered against her hooves. If the rocks were any smaller, they could have gotten stuck in the soft sensitive parts between her toes. "I say let her in, X. I don't think he's going to do anything."
Xisuma closed his eyes for a moment, before he opened them with a heavy resignation. "Pearl, you may not find what you're looking for."
"I have to at least try."
Xisuma held his words. He wasn't so cruel to tell Pearl the true depth of the code damage. It had been a good sign all together that Scout had relocated, it meant he was capable of learning and capable of change. There was no promise that the creature had memories left, and had not simply latched onto Mumbo for his illegal help. That- oh Xisuma had words for the man. Once he had recovered from his depressive hibernation. Stress had snuck in and was handling that mess the best way she could.
The mountain at least, had been decoratively excavated via Scar's silent sympathetic help. The man was also struck, a little off kilter from the potential that this was Mumbo's friend. Everyone remembered the man Mumbo had described so boldly and excitedly. Everyone remembered the mourning that came after.
"Fine, but I'm going to ask the questions," Xisuma said to her. He didn't approve, but he also knew the woman was steadfast and ambitious. If Xisuma told her no, she would simply come back when there was no person to filter the damage and pain. Here, at least he could do something.
Pearl didn't relax, but she stood strong. She nodded once before pulling her hair back with a tie. The cave was cooler, significantly so. Gem shivered as she trotted ahead, tossing her antlers and flicking her ears. She squinted upwards, trying to spot any shape in the gloom. "Oh I smell him! Smells like a bird alright! No bats thank goodness!"
"Thank goodness," Pearl echoed in a monotone. She scoured the rocks below, trying to spot any discrepancy in the dark ground. "There should be mobs in here with how dark it is."
There weren't any, Xisuma had been keeping a sharp eye on the entity count. Scout still did not show up to his scans.
"Oh, look here!" Gem shouted, waving them over. Approaching her, Xisuma spotted the remnants of something grey on the stone. Pearl squatted, pressing her fingers into the moldable surface, leaving an imprint.
"It's clay," she stated needlessly. "Why is there clay here? Scar didn't use any in the mountain."
"Hmm, maybe Mumbo left it?" Gem guessed, tilting her head. "Oh, I think I heard something."
The three straightened, peering around the cave. Forming a triangle, Pearl drew a torch and ignited it easily. She held it aloft, fire reflecting off her skin. Gem tossed her head, antlers silent as she had removed the small ornaments and chimes before joining the crew. Xisuma steadied his breath and formed his resolve. He was here not as a friend, but as the admin of his home.
"Hello?" Pearl asked, voice flat yet demanding. "Show yourself!"
Something jerked, startled by the sudden noise. Gem squeaked, leaping high as Scout faltered from his curious inspection. The creature had been hanging from the roof, jolted by the unexpected noise and fell quite awkwardly onto the cave ground.
"Pearl! That was so loud!" Gem complained, her ears pinned back to her skull. "Oh, well…it worked."
"It worked," Pearl echoed, taking a bold step forward.
Xisuma cut her off with one arm, splaying it in front of her. With a pointed look, she grit her teeth and backed up. Xisuma nodded, silent as he turned to face Scout, who was clambering to his odd quadruped state. Xisuma settled to one knee, lowering himself until his face was approximately the same height as Scout. Scout flinched away, not expecting Xisuma so close- a second set of wings near the base of its torso flared in surprise like a bird.
"Scout," Xisuma stated formally. "My name is Xisuma, I am the admin of the server you are currently on."
Scout did not respond. He stayed still, affixed like a stone gargoyle on the top of Bdub's buildings. The silence lingered, and Xisuma wondered if he should repeat himself. As Xisuma was opening his mouth to repeat his words, Scout slowly tilted his head- little wings and feathers rustling, and stated in an odd echoing rasp: "Exss- eye-suma."
"By Nox," Xisuma whispered, absolutely stunned, "you are learning."
A wing on Scout's back opened and stretched, folding itself clumsily. The lack of facial expression wasn't as uncomfortable as the admin had expected, there were countless clues that signified the confusion and keen interest Scout currently held. The creature rumbled, playing with odd hisses and noises before repeating once more: "Ex-eye-suma?"
"Xisuma," he corrected. There was a slight sway to Scout's words, mimicry lingering in the space between unique voice and stolen.
"Ex-eye-suma," Scout settled, sounding almost amused. The creature flared his main set of wings- they trembled past a certain point of spread. There was an injury, symmetrical across a joint recently separated. Poorly done, torn free, little splashes of colour indicated the skin and tissue below. Scout truly had torn his body apart, just as Cub had reported. Desperation to save those he had imprinted on.
"You're injured," Xisuma said carefully. "Can we help you?"
"Help," Scout repeated near instantly, voice unlike any hermit Xisuma knew. It was boyish, childish although not young. Something accented, like Mumbo's own cadence. "Help, yes, help help-."
"I want to help you," Xisuma stated. "Do I have your permission?"
Scout waited. The time passed longer as the creature attempted to understand- at some point it faltered and failed. Scout turned away, chirping something to himself and casually ignored everything Xisuma said, or perhaps forgot it.
"X," Gem whispered, watching the multiple feathers and odd long pines protruding like porcupines in awe. "X, the wings. His feathers are growing back."
Xisuma had never seen pin-feathers. He hadn't realized they actually resembled long sticks instead of actual feathers. They looked a bit like matchsticks, sticking out longer than Xisuma's arm. Scout ignored them, fussing with something on his hands, which were significantly different to what he had when in captivity.
"He trusts us, for now," Xisuma stated after a small moment of thought. "I don't want to press further and upset him."
Pearl scoffed, gripping the torch tightly. "We still don't know he is who he claims to be."
"Hmm, true," Gem agreed, tapping her chin. "Uh…how do we test that if he doesn't understand us?"
"He does," Xisuma said. "Only simple words. I presume he's trying to adapt to suddenly being able to think. Think of him as a child, learning the world."
"Aww, he's a baby bird?" Gem teased, reaching out. Scout hastily pulled his wings away, craning his neck to presumably look at her. Gem flinched, wincing and glancing around. She had the least exposure to Scout, and likely felt the odd paranoia that came with his gaze.
Scout shuffled backwards, seemingly finished with their impromptu meeting. Gem made a small noise of protest- Scout swiftly avoiding her outstretched hand. He spread the largest set of wings, wincing once opening past previously forced muscle shortening. Compared to a parrot, Scout's wings were incredibly stunted in movement.
"Grian," Pearl stated in a deadpan. Scout paused, cocking his head nearly sideways before slowly folding the wings and craning around. Like a curious dog, he shuffled oddly, long hands pawing at the rock ground.
Pearl swallowed, backstepping as Scout advanced, feathers scraping on stone. Scout clicked, a loud popping noise like an activating observer. He repeated in a voice- the voice Xisuma was starting to wonder if it was his actual voice, "hello. Hello. Hello."
"Hello," Pearl said with an impressively dead voice. "Where is Grian?"
Scout paused, comprehending. It was almost like talking to a hideously complex redstone mechanism. There was almost a calculating time between understanding and response. Doc could likely time it with ticks, know exactly when to respond.
"Hello," Scout repeated dumbly. "Hello. Hello-."
"Yes I know," Pearl snapped. Scout retreated back, alarmed by the sudden shift of voice. Pearl bared her teeth, slowly the long tail-wings began to lift like an intimidation. Gem muttered something, Xisuma decided to step in.
"Scout," Xisuma stated, drawing the creature's attention instantly. The man winced under the sudden anxiety, doing his best to shrug it off. "You're hurt. Let me help."
"Help," Scout echoed, but made no step closer.
"Your arms," Xisuma said, waving one hand towards Scout. Then, he realized the problem and winced. "Er…your…arms."
Xisuma gestured to his own elbows, then waited and did the same movement again. Scout's wings ruffled, trying to fold but unable to do so from old muscle stiffness. Scout watched him, and made Xisuma feel like a proper idiot.
Something clicked, and then Scout mimicked him in Xisuma's voice- "arms."
"Arms," Xisuma said, trying not to shiver under the odd sensation of hearing his voice. "Let me help. Help, uh, arms."
Scout waited, then very slowly bent his neck to look at his own limbs. Scout chirped a little noise of surprise, eying the mutilated backside of his elbows and upper arms. Xisuma wondered if he had even noticed.
"Help," Scout repeated, unable to bend in a way that allowed him to see the true damage. "Help arms?"
"Yes," Xisuma said, feeling instant relief as Scout hesitantly stepped closer. Pearl chewed on her tongue, saying nothing as she obediently set down a redstone lamp- Mumbo had mentioned something that Scout may be more agreeable to those than an open fire before he had gone back to cry in bed.
Scout didn't react the lamp, although he did claw and paw at the lever a few times. Gem happily drew forth her bucket of water and potions, as well as bandages. Xisuma saw no signs of infection, he doubted Scout could even contract one, but the open wound would be hurting. Scout chattered along, poking and plucking at a scrap of bandage he tossed. The feel of skin was waxy and thin, bones noticeable under the skin. Sadly malnourished, Xisuma wondered what else was injured.
'How long has he been here?' the admin wondered. 'How long has he been waiting for us to hop to this server? Months? Years?'
Scout chattered something, ignoring Xisuma's hands on his forearms and elbows until the man tried to touch his wings. Scout shrieked, flinching back. Xisuma retreated, Scout kicked the bucket of water and thoroughly soaked Pearl's shoes.
"Guys?" Pearl asked calmly. "I'm getting really irritated."
Scout stepped aside, walking oddly as he attempted to not get too wet. One feather smacked Gem in the face, making her stumble on the wet stone. She tripped shortly after, looking equal parts surprised and annoyed.
"Scout," Xisuma called, trying to think of anything that could prove the man's identity. "Grian! I- where did you go?"
Scout of course didn't listen. The creature flapped oddly, struggling to fly but lunged forward off the little rock. Deeper into the cave they hurried after. Pearl tore apart the redstone lamp, gathering her torch to chase. More mud and clay caked itself into the ground, bits of rock carved apart. Gem yelped, tripping on something that looked suspiciously like a brick. Xisuma swore he stubbed his toe on something that looked like sandstone.
"Scout!" Gem called, waving her hands. "Scout, come here! Please? Scout!"
"Grian," Pearl demanded, lacking all the gentle warmth of her female friend. "Grian!"
Xisuma was starting to get a headache. He should have recruited Mumbo for this, if only to lure Scout out into the sunshine. Or he should have brought Scar, who had at least created the mountain they were trekking below.
They hastily attempted to find the creature, only hearing occasional rocks clatter. Gem handled the terrain the best, able to adapt and find traction on the hardest of surfaces. She did notice that the temperature was chilling quite rapidly into something cool.
"It's freezing in here," she complained, huddling close to Pearl's torch. "Brr! What did Scar do?"
"I don't think it was Scar," Pearl said. She stepped forward, holding her torch aloft.
Once, Mumbo had confided in Xisuma. He had claimed Grian would be an excellent hermit- a gentle kind soul, a prankster on occasion. But oh, what a marvelous builder. His shapes are truly unique, able to turn boring blocks into a work of art. Xisuma had been skeptical, and had intended years ago to truly investigate whatever ability Mumbo's friend had.
And oh, how dearly Xisuma regretted his skepticism.
"Put down the lamp," Xisuma ordered, staring at the faint outline of a frozen pillar, carved with snow and layered with grey clay.
Pearl did so, assembling the light and two others in silence. Slowly, the illumination spread and outlined the silhouette of an enormous facade. A building, extending from the cave itself. At some parts, clumsy and awkward, at others made with the smooth dedication of a master craftsman. Enormous pillars stretched upwards, rounded archways and a high dome made of snow- grey and white composed into an ornate cathedral hidden below the mountain.
"Whoa," Gem said, stepping forward. She didn't touch the building, but marveled at the shadows and arches. It was not something to call pretty, it was something to call art.
"It's him," Pearl whispered, her voice thick. Xisuma turned his neck to look at her- worried. Pearl stared at the build, eyes wet and tearful. She was crying, inhaling and laughing something of anxious disbelief. "I- It's him. It's Grian."
"What?" Gem asked, startled by the sudden change in heart. "What do you-."
"This is his base, his build," Pearl repeated, gesturing upwards to the creation. "It- I never forgot it, it's his. It's what he made, the Grian Empire. The- the idiot only used snow and clay and…Xisuma it's his."
The flutter of wings didn't startle Xisuma this time. The little scratches of talons pattered closer, the anxiety increasing until Xisuma could feel the eyes on him. He turned his body, stepping aside as Scout approached nervously. There was something odd to his step, a sway and pull on him. If it was one of his hermits, Xisuma would wonder if they were drunk or concussed.
"Whoa, careful-." Gem said, stepping to the side to avoid the weird side-trip that Scout admittedly recovered from. The creature whined, a low grumble and moan whilst shaking his head. Little wings spread, flapping hastily as Scout grumbled and muttered in pain.
"Grian?" Xisuma tested. Scout didn't react- Grian didn't react, now that Pearl had confirmed it.
Grian crawled forward, flinching bodily. Little tremors jerked him one way, little inconsistencies to his movement.
"Grian," Pearl repeated, staring at him with wet eyes before the creation of his former home. "Grian, it's you."
And- perhaps it was something else. Factors Xisuma hadn't considered, but the image of Pearl standing in the entryway of the Grian Empire, well, it was a familiar nostalgic thing. And nostalgia is a powerful force, stronger than many will ever accredit.
She stood in the backdrop of something out of time, out of place. Shadowed in the cavern of somewhere light did not touch, and eyes did not see. She stood, torch aloft with a steely determination no other could ever dare replicate- could never try. Pearlescentmoon glowered before a potential foe and asked the universe: I dare you.
(And how could Grian ever forget that?)
Grian stilled, inhaled a loud pained gasp and asked shrill, just shy of sobbing: " Pearl?"
In one world, destroyed and lost to time and decay and the end, he remembered bits and fragments of things that happened. Tiny things- the shape and feel of bricks in his hand. The simple pleasure of using a boat finally equipped with oars. He remembered the feel of snow in his hand, the shape of clay molded by his careful movements. He remembered the warmth of the sky and feeling of exhaustion pulling on his bones from hard effort.
He had tried, driven by an unknown ambition, to replicate it. Desperation was a wild thing- if he placed one more handful of clay, if he arranged it just so- perhaps then it would mean something. Maybe then he could make sense of it.
It hadn't gotten worse since his panic, his fear stricken flight and absence of rationality. Mumbo had seen something in his movements, in his violence . The man had visited him once, speaking the name that ached and hurt but felt right for an unknown reason- Grian, and left him. He did not mind it, too many sounds and lights made his brain ache. He understood the healing that came in silent moments, he too needed to rest.
And he had expected to do so in peace. He knew of course the other humans lingered and watched him suspiciously. He could see it, easier than ever before. There was something free- the removal of a shackle he had never known. His limbs moved easier, weak and hurting, but not the hurt he had long since known. If Mumbo was around, he would have gone to him, shown him the new hurting spots on his limbs and shown him the strange new movements he could do. He wondered if it would upset Mumbo, but a small part of him thought maybe Mumbo would be pleased.
Except, Mumbo was not there. Mumbo had seen him once, so upset and distressed, and left him. When he dared to look, Mumbo slept or cried out in his bed, barely eating and simply living. He wondered if Mumbo would stay there until the lichen grew and mud caked him into the earth- then assured himself that no, he would never allow anyone to do the same.
He would continue to move, he would build, because that is what Mumbo did when the thoughts were not kind and gentle. He did not understand things, but there was a silence and peace that came from clay and snow. Sandstone and brick spoke to him, whispering silent secrets into his brain in the visage of tall buildings pressed against a high cliff. Empty inside, awaiting residents.
And so, he did what he wanted to. He slept, rearranged his blankets and things and eyed the shiny baubles he had taken. He toyed with the little quiet bells that glitter and clicked together nicely that Mumbo offered him, the little switches with a nice little click to the end. It wasn't as nice as Mumbo's many buttons and the bright redstone lines, but it kept boredom away.
He worked, because the times where he couldn't think at all were becoming fewer. He found more time to lay and think, to examine a wall and scrutinize each detail and try to assign a name or a title to each new thing he noticed. Wall became rock wall, which slowly evolved into his own style of categorizing it.
Time moved on. He was hungry so he ate the food that Mumbo showed him at the start, and still stayed true. If he was thirsty he had water, more than he would ever need. If he was dusty, he had hot water warmed by magma blocks and soft bubbles. If he wanted to preen (and the memory of learning came in fractured screaming bits, sharp claws yanking and rearranging feathers and his own timid hasty attempts) there was a waterfall with soft mist to coax out the sharpest bits of gravel.
He did not know how to fly, and still felt his stomach twist at the idea of it. His wings moved, easier than they had before. Some wings were not necessary, the little bird wings that sprouted from the largest sets. He hadn't realized they were so odd before, but now with new awareness came recognition. When he slept and woke, they too had vanished.
Days passed but not as fast as before. Mumbo did not visit him, and when he looked the man was still sad and isolated. He wondered if he should visit, but his wings were large and body too odd to try and wriggle up the stairwell into the man's room.
He waited, attending to his cave. The birds outside had returned, clicking at him and crooning new melodies. He did his best to replicate them, sometimes delighted by how they danced and picked at his feathers. He did not have a beak to return the favour, but his long talon-fingers scratched the hardest to reach places.
He was not bored, because there were so many things in the world. He simply hadn't noticed them before.
When three humans entered his cave through the new opening (and what a noise that was. It was not a threat, it was the man-with-a-cat who had helped Mumbo make the mountain. Who had been here since the very start.) calling for him, at first he hadn't known how to react. He watched them for some time, then watched them with many of his eyes. The one human with long protrusions from her skull hadn't liked it, but hadn't fled like he worried they would. The other humans he knew, had seen before.
His memory was not good, but a handful of scattered images alerted him slightly to their presence. He had seen the human in armour before- fear, curiosity, help? And the other human with long hair, currently tied up loud, angry, familiar?
He crept closer, soft on his limbs and mindful of his hurting front appendages. They walked around, loud on the stone carrying a torch burning hot in his many eyes.
They called out, loud and jarring. He couldn't help the startled slip, his grip loosening as he jumped reflexively. He scrambled a bit, unharmed on the stone. The humans spoke, each voice so different from Mumbo's voice. Why did human's all sound so different? Some had different ways of saying words, annunciating them. Which way was correct? How was he to know.
He attempted to process, struggling under the sudden overwhelming haze of information. The three humans- no, that was wrong. Two humans and an admin, but was an admin a human? No, this one was a voidwalker. What was a voidwalker? How could he know that?
The voidwalker, the armoured one, introduced himself and he tried to mimic and understand. "Exss-eye-suma?"
Clearly that was wrong, they were upset. He couldn't understand, everything was so much but he wanted to try. He didn't know what was wrong, his head was a loud buzz of sounds and wasps clouding his thinking. Something was wrong. Something was wrong-.
'Think, think faster,' he urged, struggling. It hurt somehow, pressing his face between heavy stones. 'Something is wrong, this is not right.'
It was familiar, but different. It didn't feel like Mumbo did in the morning, like the soft way he spoke. It felt different, warm like hot air but cold and tight in his bones. It ached, horribly and made his chest and throat tight. He hadn't eaten anything rotten, he had drank enough water. He felt ill, unbalanced.
The humans noticed. He was unwell, they must leave. He could sleep, yes. Return to his bed, lay down and rest for another day, week, sleep for a decade until the mountains claim you and you rot between dreams-.
'No!' he thought hastily, shaking his head so abruptly he felt his body stumble sideways. A human squeaked in alarm, he ignored them. He refused to think those thoughts again.
It hurt, so painfully. Between his many wings on his skull, where his true eyes were. It ached and stung, and oh, he was crying. He did not cry often, only his true eyes were able to cry and he did not like it, despite not using them often.
Something was so wrong. He was here, in his home built of clay and snow. Something nostalgic for a place he had never been. Mumbo was not here but something was right about this. The humans were not- the one human she-.
"Grian," she said and he thought 'yes, that's me. How did I forget again?'. She said, crying like Mumbo did but somehow sweeter, sadder. "Grian, it's you."
He opened his eyes, something crying and blind below his feathers. The others peered through the darkness, providing a kaleidoscope of colours and images, silhouettes and fractals of design. He gazed: 'oh, I know you.'
There were sunsets, sunrises. Lights and fire illuminating her with a backdrop of an old forgotten place. He saw her, knew her freckles and scars. Recalled her accent and unique drawl on words he didn't know the meaning of- just the cadence of her voice. There were things there, bright and colourful. A woman who fell from the sky, dropped into a server with no reason or knowledge how. Plummeted to the world, from the heavens with a loud surprised cry before respawning in front of him with a baffled but bright: oh, hello there!
"Pearl, the Grian Empire needs you!"
"Me? Well, I'm sure we can work something out! We're neighbours!"
"Grian? Gri- Gri you put that sword away right now mister!"
"So, has anyone here actually fought the dragon before? No?"
"Go through the portal in pairs! I'll see you soon, Grian!"
He remembered her, he remembered her. He had found her- or she had found them all. Dropped into the middle of a chaotic land, constantly watched. Gentle, bright and bold. Their special star, their guiding light. Pearlescentmoon.
Grian, he was Grian, and how could he have ever forgotten her? His family- Jimmy, Joel, Martyn, Netty-
He was crying, when did he start (when had he stopped?). He remembered them, already fading fast, plucked from his weak leaking mind like how they plucked him so carelessly and-.
Grian croaked, recalling: "Pearl?"