~The First Step~ a Hermitcraft AU

Chapter 23 (Grian)

wc: 1037

tw: descriptions of blood, falling, sounds of injury

i am back from vacationnnnnnnn

this chapter is dedicated to Technoblade. he was my comfort YouTuber and was the epitome of comedy and skill. he will be missed. rest easy king. o7

this is meant to take place around the same time as the previous chapter

Grian swung his axe at the trees, picking up the wood that dropped. Dawn was approaching, and a boogeyman would be chosen soon. 

I should probably get back to the base, he mused to himself, picking up an apple that had dropped from a tree. Grian checked it over, then bit into it as he made his way along the rough path to the towers. 

He spotted Mumbo tending to the sugar cane farm and raised his hand in a wave. Mumbo waved back with a goofy grin. Grian hopped over the barrier in the door and stood by the farm with his arms crossed, leaning against a cobblestone wall.

"So are we just not hiding our farms anymore?" he asked as Mumbo broke off a stalk of sugar cane. 

Mumbo shrugged. "Are we meant to hide our farms?"

Grian chuckled. "The thing about this server, Mumbo, is that when people just come along, they will just take it all." Sugar cane was a new substitute for gunpowder, meaning paper = TNT. Explosion. Deeeeaaath.  He told Mumbo precisely that.

"Alright, Grian, watch this!" Mumbo took some dirt from a chest. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," Grian said, amused.

Mumbo threw some dirt haphazardly down across the entrance, blocking the tall green plants from view. "Consider it concealed, buddy!"

Grian laughed, holding his stomach. Martyn had come out some time, observing the situation with a small smile. "Wowsers."

Grian and Mumbo began to throw dirt all around the farm, piling it up and over the top. "I've got to say, this is the worst- this is just- this is literally hilarious," Grian commented, stepping back to observe their handiwork. Mumbo wheezed.

Martyn hummed. "I think if we staircase this up to the side, it could actually work." He tapped the cobblestone walls. "You know what I mean?"

They did that.

Mumbo tapped his chin with a finger. "I feel like we might need to do a bit of work- I know for Grian, backs of things aren't exactly your forte, but the back of this need a little bit off-"

"OHHHHH," Martyn exclaimed, Grian faking a hurt noise. "Shots fired."

 "I'm sorry Grian," Mumbo said, patting Grian on the back sympathetically. After a pause, "I love your back."

Grian wheezed.

~~~

You are not the Boogeyman.

~~~

Grian stood by the stone wall, re-lighting the torch with a match. Flickering light danced across the cobble. Mumbo and Jimmy were sorting through a chest, tossing out useless items. Martyn emerged from the mine, carrying some cobblestone and dumping it in the chest, grinning at Mumbo and Jimmy's annoyed looks and walking out.

"Hey, Mumbo," Grian started, dropping a used match in a little pile. "Are you the boogeyman?"

A beat. "No." Mumbo looked up from the chest, nearly dropping the lid onto Jimmy's hands, to the latter's dismay. "Why?"

"Are you sure?" Jimmy grinned, him and Grian inching a little closer to Mumbo.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure," Mumbo said with a nervous chuckle, backing up.

"You know, if you were the Boogeyman, you could tell us, right?" Grian crossed one arm across his chest, propping his other elbow on top to rest his cheek on his palm.

"I-I'm genuinely not the Boogeyman," Mumbo said, raising his hands in the air.

"We could have a pact." Jimmy leaned in closer and Mumbo nervously spluttered.

"I'm not the Boogeyman!" Mumbo said with a hint of exasperation. "I mean- I'm-" His expression broke into a smile. "I'm the boogieman."  He broke into the silliest dance Grian had ever seen.

Grian laughed. "Alright, that's it, you've done it, you win," he said, waving his hand and turning around to continue what he was doing as Jimmy and Mumbo laughed.

"I've been suspicious of you all day and you've- you've just stopped with that," Jimmy said in between chuckles.

"You've just secured your safety," Grian said with a grin. The three headed out, the sun beginning its descent.

~~~

Grian emerged from the nether portal, holding a bundle of cobblestone slabs and dumping them into a chest.

"Alright," Mumbo said, clapping his hands together and beginning to tower up. "So I was wondering if we should do the anti-spawning platform, or if we should..." He paused. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, it's just that you're talking to someone who has no idea how to make a ghast farm," Grian said. 

"Ah."

Mumbo towers up as Grian places down ladders until they reach a suitable height, Grian clambering onto the top block.

"This is rather precarious," Mumbo notes, the two of them grasping each other's arm to prevent them from falling off the one block space. Grian gulped when he realized that he couldn't even see the ground.

Grian quickly attached a piece of cobblestone to the edge and released Mumbo's sleeve. "I'll make some handrails," he suggested, setting up a little block and attaching some slabs to the edge of it.

As Mumbo built a little walkway and Grian added rails, a comfortable silence settled between them.

"Would now be a good time to tell you that I'm the other Boogeyman?" Grian whispered with a spooky voice.

Mumbo slowly lifted his head. "Grian, this is a terrible time," as Grian broke off into cackling laughter.

"I really wish just for that moment that I was," Grian said, bracing his hands on his knees as he bent over laughing. 

"But what are you, Grian?"

They paused, staring at each other with glints in their eyes.

"The booooooogieman," Grian sang, both of them doing the dumb little dance Mumbo had done earlier. 

~~~

"Oh, Joel's here," Mumbo said. Grian hummed, continuing to build out his platform. 

"Wait, Grian-" Mumbo began, as if trying to warn him. Out of the very corner of his eye, Grian saw something shoot towards him, and as he turned, an arrow dug itself deep into his arm, the momentum flinging him off of the edge of the platform.

Grian fell.

He couldn't see anything, shapes blurring because of the speed at which he was plummeting. A hand stretched out, reaching for something that would never be there.

He could feel his feathers pushing against the back of his jumper, and in his panic, he pushed harder, trying to get the fabric to give, to let his wings loose, anything, anything, please, please, please, please-

Bones snapping.

Something dark and sticky.

Black.

The rustle of bedsheets.

Grian sat up, one hand still outstretched, reaching for something that would never be there.

uh oh spaghettio

thank you for reading! have a good day or night wherever you are!

-Ete