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Summary
Grian pushed a finger into his eye cavity. The digit rooted around in the darkness, a half torn off nail scratched blindly at the walls, searching for the pinprick of white light. He wanted to squish it like a bug. His lungs were full of an entire night sky; he held his breath to focus. His eye wells were deeper than they appeared—as he reached in his wrist disappeared, the cuff of his elbow, too—he was afraid he would fold in on himself if he went further. That pinprick was indelible. He dragged his arm out, limp with defeat. Small trickles of blood seeped out, stopping quickly when the scratches healed shut.
^^^^^
The thing was, Grian died.
Which meant he was back at the Watchers. Hermitcraft was merely an interlude. That was what they promised him. However, Grian couldn’t accept such an untimely end, so he pleaded for another go, no matter the consequences. Strangely, the Watchers allow it, as long as he follow one caveat.
Or: Grian has to reveal the worst parts of himself. It doesn’t go well.
Series
- Part 1 of Tactical Frivolity
Bookmarked by MothRising
09 Dec 2025