What if each Life is determined by the winner, a wish they make before they reset.
When Grian won, he wished for every person to feel the betrayal of the red life.
The Listeners heard, and they give them a curse.
When Scott won, he wished to have a home, to be with a person he loved til the end.
The Listeners heard, and connected their souls.
When two winners win, how would they wish?
Would they debate? Would they toss a coin? Would both wishes come true, raising the stakes for the next time they all come together?
Or would Cleo wish and Martyn would listen, as he was meant to do from the very beginning?
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a metallic swish rang through the air.
“block your left! no, the other left! aw, got you again.”
jimmy panted as he lay on the ground, the tip of martyn’s sword pointed at his neck. “good one. well, i lasted much longer this time.”
martyn pocketed his sword and helped jimmy up. “that’s true, you are doing better. the sparring practice is working. although, you’ve got to learn to feint- what you looking at there?”
“nothing.” jimmy sighed and looked up at the steadily dimming sky.
“well, i reckon we should be sleeping soon, night’s about to fall.” martyn started to go back, but stopped at the door. “jimmy?”
jimmy was looking up at the sky. martyn walked over to him.
“do you think it’s really written up there?”
“what?” martyn looked at jimmy. his eyes were glistening with the reflection of the stars.
“like, up there in the heavens. in the stars. destiny, i mean. do you think that no matter what i do it’s going to happen anyway?” jimmy glanced at martyn. “no matter how far we run, from far up enough it’s always the same.”
realisation hit martyn. “oh, the canary curse. it’s- nah, jimmy. we’re big dogs. we’re fierce. ferocious. all that.”
“dogs always have an owner,” jimmy murmured.
“well…” martyn hesitated. “that’s us. we own ourselves. yeah.”
“the blind leading the blind.” jimmy laughed and thrust his sword in the dirt. “martyn, i swear- i try to act like some tough dog, but really i’m just some small yellow bird flapping around, some sort of signal for death.”
martyn didn’t say anything for a while, before he said, “did you know that the coal miners always got attached to the canary?”
jimmy stayed silent. martyn continued, “they even had some device to revive the bird if it passed out. they didn’t actually want it to die.”
a pause.
“and why are you telling me this?” jimmy said.
martyn smiled and shrugged. “just make of that what you will.”
another, longer, pause.
“y’know, martyn,” jimmy said, “even if the curse is written in the stars, we could always, well. cross it out.”
“that’s silly,” martyn replied. “very on-brand for us both, though.”
the wind swept through, blowing their hair that fluttered like feathers in the air. there was a comfortable silence. then:
“canaries aren’t always bad omens, you know.” jimmy said.
“yeah, i know.”
“we should be going to sleep.”
“that’s what i’ve been telling you.”
*****
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