The Lost Watcher

The Welcome Party

Mumbo hummed anxiously to himself as he flipped through the book he had borrowed from Xisuma yesterday. He allowed himself to check the clock quickly before returning to the book before him.

Grian’s Welcome Party was in just about an hour, leaving Mumbo with a small window of time before he had to leave his base. His eyes now quickly glanced over the pages, trying to take in as much information as he could before the clock was up.

Goodness, Mumbo was incredibly nervous. Today was the day where he was determined to get answers from Grian. He wasn’t quite sure what answers he was looking for, specifically, but he wanted answers nonetheless.

He flipped anxiously through the book before landing back on that oh so familiar page, adorned with a well drawn illustration of a person depicted with bright purple cracks flowing through their skin. It reminded Mumbo of that frightening night just two days ago. The night that gave Mumbo so many questions to cling to.

The night he hoped would be resolved by tonight. 

He quietly read aloud the title of the chapter which contained the drawing. “Fledgelings,” he mumbled, glancing at the introduction at the start of the chapter. Quietly, Mumbo began,

“A Watcher Fledgeling is defined as a newly turned Watcher that has not yet grown to full power. It can take months or even years for them to truly reach the fullness of their true power, though it is important to note that the level of power they have depends heavily on the power level of the Watcher who created them. As their powers grows, it can cause-”

Mumbo squinted at the page, where it seemed part of the paragraph was smudged out. After a minute of trying to decipher the smudged words, he sighed and picked up at where the words began to once again make sense. “-Can even be fatal. Before a Watcher fledgeling can fully ascend, they must..” 

Mumbo’s eyes widened as he finished the sentence. “-CONSUME A PLAYER’S SOUL!?” he exclaimed.

With very conflicted feelings, Mumbo simply paused before quietly saying, “I’m just going to.. ignore the disturbing implications of that.” And with that, the vampire promptly shut the book before him.

He quickly checked the clock again, though he found that it was still rather early. Despite that, he decided that it would be best if he began to head towards the party. It was better than staying here thinking about Watchers, anyway.

…

Grian hummed quietly to himself as he tied his bright red scarf around his neck, his hands shaking a bit as he did. He paused and tried to steady himself with a deep breath, his nerves making it horribly difficult to tie his scarf properly.

Goodness, Grian was horribly nervous. He was about to go to a party, which in and of itself was a bit nerve-wracking, but a party in his honor? Well, Grian was nothing short of terrified at the very thought of it. 

Now, he pressed a hand gently to his chest as he visualized the Eye that rested there, just below his collarbone. As he did, Grian couldn’t help but feel a bit… guilty.

Grian sighed heavily as he glanced down at his hands. This whole thing felt fundamentally wrong. Grian wasn’t Hermit material, in fact he was far from it. He wasn’t even a Player, for goodness sake. He was a Watcher, a deceitful danger to those around him, nothing but a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Grian was a Monster.

He clenched his fists tightly, hardly noticing the sound of the door opening. Without a knock or warning, Scar stepped into the room, his demeanor absently optimistic as he hummed excitedly to himself. He turned to Grian with a wide grin.