Random hc oneshots in a book that I'll sporadically update

Scar oneshot - Violin

Tw for this chapter// character death, war, fire, swearing (it's one word) please say if anything else

A lot of people on the hermitcraft server had secrets, for example Zedaph kept him being a sheep hybrid secret for a while before Grian swapped bases with him in season seven, and found several things which only either a sheep, or a sheep hybrid would need. He then met up with Zedaph a few days later, and asked him about it. He admitted to being a sheep hybrid, but asked for him to keep it secret. He managed to keep it a secret, and it's been like that ever since. 

Scar had a secret of his own. He usually didn't keep a lot to himself, he just didn't see the point in it, but this was one thing he had and planned on keeping it a secret. He played the violin. It didn't seem like much, but it was something that he considered very personal, so he kept it inside his tree and chest monster only.

He had been playing since he was about 9 years old, when he went to a farmers market for the first time with his mother, back in his first server. They had seen a young woman holding the instrument, and then she started playing, and young scar was immediately enamored but the sound that came out. It was rich and varied from both high to low, able to create both short and long tones. He had stood there for hours whilst his mother shopped, watching this lady play an instrument he'd never seen before. When they went home that night, Scar had begged his parents for 'whatever that instrument was', and when they said no, he would pester them for weeks. Eventually they got him one, it wasn't good quality, it was made out of blue sparkly plastic, it didn't have any rosin, which proved to be an issue later on, but it was a start to his passion. He had gone to the farmers market again that day, and came across the same woman who he had seen many weeks prior, and asked her if she could teach him how to play. She seemed thrown off at first, and slightly hesitant, but after seeing how determined the kid was, she gave in and taught him at the price of making sure he practiced (turns out she had been a teacher before, but none of her students practiced and made any progress, so she quit). He practiced at least once a day, and slowly he made progress. His teacher, who he had learned was called Pearl, taught him all about the technique of the instrument and how to do different ornaments. He moved from simple three note pieces, to a piece which would be a whole page long, and then learned how to shift positions, and by the time he was 15, he was playing three to four page pieces by some of the most famous composers in the server's history.

Then war broke out. It was his seventeenth birthday, he had his lesson that day, and the night before he had gone to sleep after a long practice session, looking forward to the day just a sleep away. He didn't look forward to the day once he woke up. He woke up to fire engulfing the house outside his window, swallowing it and leaving nothing but broken frames behind. He rushed out of his bed, and looked around, suddenly aware of screaming, blazing heat and bright orange light coming from his doorway. He grabbed the violin, he knew it wasn't a good idea, but it was the thing he valued most, so he grabbed it and jumped up onto the roof. He moved quickly from there, hopping into the burnt frame of a house on the street behind him, and ran through the thin alley, running towards the all-too familiar house of his beloved teacher. He got there, and saw what he hoped he wouldn't have to. It was burnt to a crisp, the building hardly standing, and when he walked inside, all he saw was charred walls and possessions. He walked into where he knew the bedroom to be, and saw a figure laying on the floor. The room wasn't burnt, it was completely fine, but the stench of smoke was stronger than he could ever imagine to be possible. He immediately stepped out of the room, choking on the thick grey cloud which had collected in there. He now knew why the room was fine. The fire hadn't been strong enough to burn through the door, it had gotten stuck outside, but the smoke still made its way in. After a breath of as fresh air as he would get, he stepped back into the room and checked on the figure that was lying in the middle of it. He already knew she wasn't alive, but the small hope he had was crushed when he checked her pulse. Tears slowly dripped down his cheeks, and he grabbed the note which was held in her limp hand. He read it, and it was speaking to him. She had known he would come and try to find him, and she knew she wouldn't be able to get out but she would die, so she wrote a short letter whilst slowly dying of carbon monoxide poisoning. Ther letter told him to take her violin, she wanted him to have it as it was her prized possession and Scar was the closest she'd ever been with some for years. He took it and left. He left the server, he knew it wasn't reparable, and he had the two things he loved with him, so what was the point of staying, besides everyone he loved in that server was either dying or already dead.