Mumbo promptly cut Grian off. "Wait, wait wait wait. What do you mean 'the jig is up?' What are you on about, Grian? Nothing changed about you." He frowned, staring at the fae.

Grians eyes went wide as he realised what Mumbo just said. Or more accurately, the implications of what Mumbo has said. "You have the Sight."

"Yes I have sight, I can see normally." He shot back a confused frown on his face.

"No- the Sight. You can see through glamour and faerie magic without help."

The redstoner tilted his head. "I don't understand? You're a...faerie?"

Grian whistled and nodded slowly, going to lean against a wall before recoiling at the burn. Damn these iron bars.

"It's a lot to explain, Mumbo. It'd probably be best for a different day." Scar stepped in, still giving Grian a meaningful glare. "As for you- don't think I didn't forget what your people did to my world."

"You mean to pin the blame of my entire species onto me?"

Scar swallowed his fear, speaking lowly with false confidence, his staff pointing at the faerie even as his hands shook "If that's what it takes, then yes."

"You do realise I won't go easily, right?"

The wizard nodded, his staff lowering as he trembled before a person he wanted to call his friend. But the war over magic- and the subsequent disappearance of it from his world- he couldn't forgive it. Not when so many used it for good. Not when so much of their civilisation relied on magic.

Not when the faeries stole it.

So he couldn't forgive them. He couldn't look at Grian anymore and see the Jungle Bandit, wearing a silly bird mask. How much was Grian lying? How much of his personality was an act?
Was Grian even his name?
"I understand, faerie." He said softly. "But you know why I'm doing this too."

Grian nodded. "So we know where we both stand."

"Yeah."

"I wish it wasn't this way. I enjoyed your friendship, Scar."

"Same. It was nice while it lasted."

"What on earth is going on- why are you two talking like you're never going to see each other again?" Mumbo spoke up, following the conversation and having absolutely no clue what any of it meant.

"Not now, Mumbo." Scar and Grian said at practically the same time, sharing a small laugh before sadness turned the sound bitter.

"So what do you mean to do with me?" Grian asked as he sat on the floor (which was thankfully stone) and awkwardly folded his wings behind him so they didn't brush against the iron. "Those runes did nothing more than force me to drop the glamour, you know." He added, tracing a finger through the dust.

"I'll figure that out once I get Mumbo out of here." Scar said, taking Mumbo by the hand and leading him to Larry. "It's my fault he's in this mess to begin with."
Grian didn't look up as their footsteps faded away, not seeing Mumbo cast a worried glance over his shoulder.

Grian looked so small in the cage, wings drooping behind him and bored out of his mind. He was still the same person from before. So what if Grian was fae? It didn't matter- he had done so much for all of the hermits, helping them get used to being runaways. Shelter them until they felt safe. Welcome others who wanted to run from their past. It was why they called themselves "Hermits" after all- just a group of people looking for a safe place to hide from their demons.
And this? Trapping Grian? That was the opposite of everything the group stood for.

"Feel free to flip through any of my books. I'll do my best to explain once I get back, okay?" Scars voice cut though his thoughts.

Mumbo nodded solemnly, sitting at a table and watching the birds fly by Scars window until he got back. It was weird, going through someone's home despite having their permission. So he made do with watching the world through the window, questioning how much of the world he actually knew.

Scar hurried back to Grians base to deal with Grian, expecting it to be something along the lines of speaking with each other now that Mumbo wasn't involved.

He did not expect to find thick vines making their way through the windows, doors, the cracks between wooden planks, or emerging from the floorboards. It looked as if his base had aged a century within the moments it took Scar to walk to Larry and back . Thousands of vines covered Grians base, breaking the floorboards into an obstacle course and upending chests, items spilling out onto the floor. The vines all twisted their way to the trap where the runes were nothing more than dust, brushed away by the plants and the iron bars were broken apart.

Grian was nowhere to be found.

He should have expected this, honestly.