Chapter Text
Down below the Earth, within the forgotten kingdom of Hollownest, in a city that earned its namesake from the endless stream of tears that fall from above, lives a bug, but not just any bug. His name is Notch, though it has been many a year since anyone has called him by that name, and most who he has encountered since then refer to him simply as, the Nailsmith.
All his life he has devoted himself to one cause, one purpose, the creation of the perfect nail. A nail that, when wielded by a true warrior, would be powerful enough to slash down any foe that dared to stand in their way.
For the longest time, this goal seemed unattainable, as even though Notch had seen many promising blades enter his shop, their wielders were never worthy enough in his eyes to possess his greatest masterpiece, and even those who were would come to him once or twice but then disappear, never to be seen again. Notch had long since learned to numb his heart of the pain he once felt after realizing the reason behind why his patrons would never return.
All this changed however, when a small, unassuming young knight walked into his hut. At first Notch thought nothing of the little knight, in fact he initially mistook them for someone else, but he soon learned this there was more to this knight than meets the eye. Each time they would return, they came back stronger and more powerful than they were before, and each time they would have Notch forge them a new blade, that would better serve their new skills.
It was after the Knight returned to him for the third time, with the three pale ore and payment he asked for, that Notch knew that this was the warrior he had been waiting for, who was worthy enough to wield his finest creation. And so Notch set to work with creating the perfect nail, for the perfect wielder.
As he gazed down upon the pure nail, Notch was filled with an immense feeling of pride and joy, but his uplifted mood was quickly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness. Why did he feel this way? He had just completed his life's goal of forging the most powerful nail in all of Hallownest, and yet Notch felt as though his entire world was falling apart, like the only thing keeping him going was that singular goal and nothing else, and now that it was complete, there was nothing left to give his life purpose, nothing keeping him here.
Notch returned the nail to its owner, and excused himself, before heading outside. As he exited his hut he turned to the left and walked to the edge of the cliff that looked onward toward the empty streets of the City of Tears. A few moments passed before he heard the quiet steps of the knight, exiting his hut. Notch did not have to look behind him to know that the knight was now standing behind him, looking at him with a curious expression, but otherwise remaining silent. Notch remained silent for a moment longer, before finally speaking.
“With a Pure Nail forged, my work in this lifetime comes to an end. My only remaining desire is to see and feel the nail strike true!” The knight made a sound from his spot behind him that Notch interpreted as confusion regarding his request.
“I beg you, cut me down. As my final moment in life, I want to taste the blade's exquisite edge. After all this time, all this toil... haven't I earned it?” Notch turned to look at the knight. They had never been a very expressive bug, yet in this moment Notch could see a look of apprehension behind their mask. Notch turned back toward the City of Tears.
“Do not hesitate. I beg you” Notch assured. “Cut me down! I want to taste that blade's exquisite edge.”
Another moment of silence passed before Notch finally heard the sound of the pure nail, his finest creation, being pulled from its sheath, ready to claim it’s first victim. The pitter patter of steps behind him signaled the beginning of the knights attack, so Notch closed his eyes, and readied himself, with bated breath, to finally taste the sweet release of death at the hands of Hallownest’s most powerful weapon.
A loud swishing sound rushed past Notch’s right ear, and the nailsmith opened his eyes just in time to see the body of the knight go sailing past him, off the cliff which they stood and down the cobblestone laid path, before disappearing into the rain covered shroud of the City of Tears, leaving Notch to stand, rooted in his spot, in utter disbelief as the knight’s figure grew smaller and smaller, before disappearing entirely into the distance. After years and years of toiling endlessly in order to make the perfect nail, Notch’s final request, his dying wish to feel the blissful sting of the pure nail along his shell, had been denied, and he had been left to contemplate whether he should pursue the knight, or throw himself off the cliff’s edge, ending the ordeal himself.