The raid was going fine until Scar froze time. At least, that's probably what happened. If the raid wasn't going fine before then, it would be comforting, but Scar couldn't really remember it very well, to be honest. He remembered lots of panic, which was normal whenever he did a raid, but Grian had been doing fine, last he recalled. Very self-sufficient. Impressive!
It probably had to do with the fact Scar refused to wear full armor. It wasn't meant for tree elves--the cold metal was uncomfortable! Grian couldn't yell at him for that!
He could definitely yell at him for this, though. This was a bit of a problem, even Scar could see that.
The raid was going fine, honest! It was fine! Until, well, an evoker had cornered him, and he'd panicked, and Grian had dove towards them with his sword out, intending to help, and. Well.
His magic was defensive. It really wasn't his fault, if you thought about it. Vex magic was fickle!
Scar did do this, though, and they did have a problem. He floated above the ground, his skin tinged a ghostly blue, and felt the red pulse through his veins. He sighed.
"G, I messed up," he complained, turning to his friend, "I--"
He stopped. Grian wasn't standing next to the evoker. He wasn't even standing where the evoker had been.
He was floating. Right in front of Scar. Tiny, blue, and glowing, with his miniature white wings splayed out behind him, his features blurring into each other.
"Ohhhhh, oh no," Scar moaned, putting his head in his hands. "Oh… oh no."
He should have known this would happen. He should have known! Whenever a vex spawned, an allay would follow, and Grian had killed the evoker. If it had hit the evoker, the magic would have just dispersed with the totem, but no, Grian had to come and play the stupid hero…
It really was all Scar's fault. He didn't look up.
"Scar?" Grian said shrilly. "What did you do?"
"You're an allay?" Scar replied timidly.
"I'm a what," Grian hissed, poking at his tiny wings. "What did you do?"
"Vex magic? To phase through the evoker's fangs?"
"How does that have anything to do with me," Grian said. "Also, aren't you supposed to be an elf?"
"The ears are fake," Scar said solemnly. "And you just--happened to be in the blast radius! I don't know! Cub is much better at this than I am!"
Grian paused. "…you could have been wearing armor this whole time?"
Scar's ghostly face flushed. "No! I mean, technically, yes, but it's so unfashionable! It doesn't match my hair at all!"
Grian stared up at the sky, clearly exasperated. His eyes were pure white. Scar shifted uncomfortably, resolutely ignoring the fact that he wasn't really sure how to fix this. It would be fine. Someone had to know, right?
"Well, at least the raid's stopped!" Scar said cheerfully.
"The raid…?" Grian glanced down at the nonchalant crowd of pillagers milling about. "Oh. That's… nice, I guess."
"Yeah, they don't register us as players anymore," Scar said, waving a hand. "So they can't see us!"
"They--they don't see us as players? Are we mobs now, Scar?" Grian stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Um." Scar said. He tried to think of a response that sounded sure and like he hadn't accidentally just unmade his friend's code. "…no?"
Grian's expression did not relax. His eye twitched. That was impressive; Scar didn't think he'd ever seen an allay so frustrated. It was a novel experience.
"Can we at least get the stupid vindicator for your prank before they start trying to kill us again?"
"Why not?" Scar shrugged, floating over to the minecart. He pursed his lips, focusing for a moment, and…
Pop! His hands solidified. Quickly, Scar snatched the minecart's edge and sent it flying towards a nearby vindicator. The poor mob didn't know what hit him before he was facedown in the cart, unconscious.
"There! Easy, see?" Scar grinned, turning to Grian. "All part of my master pl--"
His sentence was cut short by Grian barreling towards him erratically, like a butterfly that had just emerged from its chrysalis, and phasing right through the edge of a house before he managed to stop himself about three centimeters from Scar's head.
"These wings suck," Grian panted, jerking wildly in the air, obviously trying to stay steadily aloft and failing miserably.
"You're supposed to float, G. Not fly." Scar demonstrated by doing a little flip in midair.
Grian stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. "What? That--no. That doesn't work!"
"I just did it." He did another flip in case Grian had missed the first one. "See?"
Scar might have just exploded his poor winged friend's brain. It was as if he'd entirely bluescreened from the blatant disregard for physics spirits like them showed.
"Chin up, G. Think about all the pranks we can play until we turn back, being able to float and phase through walls!"
Grian brightened slightly, begrudgingly, temporarily abandoning his worries about flight and movement in his strange new form. "Well. I won't say no to a little bit of pranking, once we get this fella back to your base."
"Of course, of course!" Scar said nonchalantly, solidifying once more to push the vindicator on course. "Adios, raiders! It has not been fun!"
Pranking would buy him some time to actually figure out how to turn them back. Probably. Or at least get Cub to do it. It would be fine!
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