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“I want for one of them.”
The Pale King’s eyes were trained on his queen’s back, but the reflection of her eyes within the surface of the egg could not be ignored. That beautiful blue shone through the Void staining their creation and he couldn’t help but look away.
“We only need one, my queen.” he answered. When she turned her head to peer back at him he had to raise his eyes to meet hers once more.
“Only one is needed, yes, but I do not want for the perfect one you seek.” Her tone was low and soft, ever gentle toward her king.
A pause. “You wish for an imperfect vessel?”
A soft tinkling laugh met his question and the White Lady’s gaze turned back to the darkness swirling within the smooth black egg.
“I want for a child, my Wyrm. One full of life who will learn and wonder and grow.”
---
She never stepped foot in that place again.
The burden of watching the egg, the thing pulsing with life that was not quite life, expand with the brood of Wyrm and Root and Void was his alone. Only he bore witness to the sound of the hatching- a sound so much like broken glass. Only he bore witness to the first birth.
Standing tall far above that which he had helped to create, he watched.
The first emerged alone, but several others came quickly after. All were small things with void black bodies and root white masks and fluttering capes of various lengths all dyed in shades of gray or green. The first to emerge stared silently at each other then glanced around their birthplace. Finally they noticed him.
One by one they began to climb.
One by one they began to fall.
The first few who fell were the hardest to take in. The Pale King told himself they were merely hollow vessels- automatons that felt nothing. The crunch of their breaking bodies was merely akin to a potter breaking dried clay. The sounds released by a few were merely echoes of movement.
The one that managed a scream on its way down undid him.
With a visible tremble in his step, the king fled.
---
When next the birthplace was opened, a crowd of heads turned to face the king.
The crowned Wyrm’s gaze slowly slid over the grouping crowding the ledge and he took in the looks of every vessel that had made it thus far. His guards behind him would allow none to pass. His judgment alone would save or condemn those who hadn’t fallen to their deaths.
When he walked, they moved back. Always their blank stares faced him, but none made any movement. The crunching sounds continued on and a flash of white disappearing from view told the Wyrm that one had just failed the final leap.
He stopped before a random vessel, needing to start somewhere, and reached out a hand to tilt its mask upward. It allowed itself to be manipulated for some time, twitching twice in his grasp, then returned to its beginning position when his claws released it. The king’s hand withdrew and he remembered his queen’s request.
“Do you understand me?” A blank stare without movement met his question. He gazed carefully into its eyes and found nothing. Void filled the vessel, but it had squirmed under his touch. It heard, but did not respond. It was not his perfect creation nor was it full of life as his queen wished. Once more his hand reached toward the vessel.
The snap of its neck breaking echoed.
With a heavy heart he tossed the body over the edge and turned to the next.
---
The ledge was cleared by the time the next vessel made the leap.
The Pale King had steeled himself by then. He had killed countless already and didn’t doubt the countless more he would kill until his goal was found. His eyes gazed up toward the newcomer and he released a short sigh while stepping to meet it. This one was a new sight with asymmetrical horns- two standing tall and slightly curved on one side and only a small spike of a horn on the opposite side. All those before it had had perfectly symmetrical horns.
The Wyrm’s hand turned the vessel’s mask as he did to all of them, but this one he noticed tried to keep its eyes on him. It made him a tad curious.
“Do you understand me?”
A surprise came in the form of the vessel nodding. None yet had reacted to the question and it made him simultaneously disgusted and elated. On one hand it went against everything he needed in a vessel. On the other hand it might have been what his queen wanted.
---
“My Wyrm. You’ve brought one to me?”
The king’s steps came to a stop before his queen and he nudged the vessel standing at his side. The odd horned being looked up at him for a moment then to the White Lady slowly.
“Indeed, my queen.” he answered. “It may be able to fulfill your request.”
Lumafly blue eyes turned from the Wyrm to the vessel standing before her and she stretched an arm out toward it. “Come. Let me have a look at you.”
The vessel approached slowly, glancing between the queen’s face and her outstretched hand as if expecting something. When it grew close enough the White Lady’s delicate claws touched its mask and traced across the three uneven horns atop its head. The vessel, in turn, reached a hesitant hand of its own to touch the claws on its head. The queen’s sudden smile filled the Pale King with a surge of warmth.
“Curious thing.” she said in that ever gentle voice of hers. She allowed the vessel to grasp her hand and examine it before gently pulling away. “Thank you, my king. I believe this is the one I wanted for.”
“Anything for you, my queen.”
---
More failed vessels. Countless children born only to be returned to the Void they hatched from.
The queen had hers, but the king had yet to find his.
---
It was a strange thing to bear witness to the castle’s newest inhabitant on a daily basis. The Wyrm had grown used to seeing hollow eyes peering at him from around corners and spotting it darting toward the queen’s gardens. He could even pretend that the vessel was a true child. But of course this was a simple fantasy. It was merely a gift to his queen to satisfy her desire to nurture.
A vessel who clutched at the queen’s robes and hid behind her when guards spared it a glance.
An empty creature who sat closely to the queen and listened with rapt attention when she told it stories.
A simple tool who, once, had picked up a nail far too large for it and paraded around the halls to the amusement of the Great Knights.
A curious not quite child who was slowly winning the affections of all within the castle.
And the Wyrm worried for even he was growing an attachment to it.
---
He continued to watch the vessels fail to reach the ledge each day. There were so very few now who could. And of the few who made that final jump none had been his perfect creation. All were cast back into the pit.
There was one on that final platform though. It had been there for half the time the king had waited- watching a few others try and fail and fall. It had yet to try the jump for itself. The king wondered what the vessel was waiting for. Did it have enough sense to know that it wouldn’t make the jump or that its life would likely end even if it did? While he pondered over the other he failed to notice the shift in its movement.
Suddenly the vessel took a running leap from its perch.
It missed the ledge by mere inches.
The Pale King released a sigh. He’d almost hoped that that one made the jump. A few moments later brought another vessel to the final platform and the Wyrm found himself staring intently at the figure. It bore the exact same shape to its mask as the one that had just fallen. He’d seen duplicated masks before, but never twice in a row. It was odd, but perhaps to be expected with the huge number of vessels. This one faired no better when it tried to reach him anyway.
And then the exact same mask came into view for a third time.
Then again for a fourth time.
By the fifth time the same mask appeared, the Pale King’s confusion grew. He stepped forward until he stood only a few inches from the ledge and there he stared with rapt attention at the vessel. It watched him for a time before deciding to jump and just as the times before it missed the ledge by only a tiny distance.
The king leaned over the edge of his perch to watch the being fall, but suddenly the vessel’s body flashed to the side where it grasped the edge of a platform and hauled itself back up. Then a few hops up brought it back to that final jump once more.
He wasn’t sure what to think. Out of hundreds of vessels this was the first to show an ability like that. But why did it not simply use that air dash to reach the ledge he stood on? As if reading the king’s thoughts the vessel did use its ability when next it jumped, but its footing had slipped up and the jump was still too short. The king knew it would fall again and this time he wondered if it could use that ability before dropping too far. As it closed the gap between them, so close yet not close enough, their eyes met and the Wyrm could swear he saw terror-
Before he knew it he’d jumped himself.
His claws wrapped around the falling vessel and their fast descent was stopped as his wings unfurled. It took no time at all to reach the safety of the top again and the king made no sound when he touched down. His wings tucked themselves tightly against his back once more and he found his arms full with a trembling vessel, tiny claws clutching his robe and its face pressed against his chest. Without thought he closed his arms more securely around the vessel and released a relieved sigh.
“Don’t worry.” he whispered to it. “I have you.”