Work Text:
Chapter 1: Monomon's Squire
The Little Ghost and Quirrel sat by the peaceful lake, the water sparkling from an unknown source. Despite there being a couple infected bugs some ways away, they were relaxed, and peaceful.
Quirrel, having finally finished his quest, was, for one of the first times Ghost had seen him, not wearing the reminder of his lady Monomon on top of his hat. Said mask had been used up to allow Ghost to open up Black Egg Temple, to complete their final quest. Quirrel’s sword was behind him, on the ground, and he was looking more languid than the Knight had ever seen him.
Ghost looked at Quirrel, the little Grimmchild on its head murmuring a little as its napping spot shifted, and communicated in the strange, void-like way that they did.
Was Monomon… a great teacher, as the Archives suggested? Ghost asked.
Quirrel paused for a moment, watching the nearby aquatic plants sway in the current. “Yes.” He answered. “She was… wonderful. She taught me all I know- about Hallownest, and the outside.”
The Little Ghost blinked at him inquisitively, or as well as they could without having facial expressions. Quirrel got the gist, however, and continued:
“Ah, the outside. It was a strange place, you know, and where I first met the red-cloaked fighter. I didn’t quite catch her name, but she was very fierce, and fought with a needle and thread. Perhaps you may know her?” He asked, looking back at Ghost.
Now Ghost paused for a bit, remembering their tough time fighting her. She had broken his shell often, forcing his void-self out into the open and his shell to go back to the nearest bench to regain energy, but they had much enjoyed their fights with her. Ghost wondered if she felt the same- that sister of his, always wandering, albeit not as lost as themself.
Hornet. They said, breaking the silence of the splashing waves against the shore.
“Mmm?”
My void-sister. She was created for Herrah, for the Beast’s alliance, by the King, learned with the White Lady, and trained by Vespa. I believe once all of this is said and done, she will return as a queen among bugs.
“Three queens training one bug...” Quirrel mused aloud, then chuckled. “No wonder she was so fierce. I remember Vespa- she would visit my lady Monomon sometimes, with a delegation of fierce Hive Warriors. Sparring with the bees would always be an arduous task, but one that would refine and polish anyone’s fighting style.”
He trailed off, and Ghost prompted him with a nudge. “Ah, yes. The outside and Mistress Monomon, correct?” A nod of assent. “The outside was…” He trailed off absentmindedly.
“That’s strange. I don’t quite remember it. The memories are all blurry… must be a side effect of getting old. You can ask Hornet about it later, maybe.” He suggested, chuckling once more.“And as for Monomon… Well, like I said, my lady Monomon was wonderful. She knew just about anything you would ask her.
“If you asked her what the Pale King’s relatives were, she would know. If you gave her a stray tram pass, she would look at the bug’s identification, take a quick check in the archives, and the bug who had lost some geo from dropping the pass would be a little richer, both knowing that Mistress Monomon had their back, and in the fact that they, well, got their geo back. She was always kind, too.”
Quirrel gave a little, happy sigh. “Those were the days. When she was contracted to be a dreamer, to hide away the Infection…” He shook his head, old wounds and anger rose up in him before he shook it out, leaving a tired bug past his prime, exhausted after carrying so much sorrow around for so long.
Ghost lay a comforting limb on his shoulder. I know it will not bring her back, but my final destination is the heart of the infection. I will defeat it, and make sure your lady Monomon’s sacrifice was not in vain, they swore.
Quirrel bowed his head. “For that, I would be forever grateful. You can go on ahead though. These old bones need a little rest.” He smiled, waving Ghost off. “Go on, now. Your companion is waking up, as well.”
Ghost looked up to see if, indeed, his charming little pet had woken up, and then regretted it as a hissy Grimmchild fell off of their head, almost hitting the ground before it flapped its wings. It snapped at Ghost, annoyed, before taking up its usual position a bit behind and above the little wanderer.
See you around! Ghost waved, before charging up their crystal heart to fly across the lake.
Quirrel waved to The Little Ghost, waiting until he could see them no more, a faint smile lingering on his face. “I hope to hear of your adventures the next time we meet,” he murmured to himself, before standing up, and stretching himself out.
He put his hat on and strengthened his resolve. “Now, a little trip is in order, isn’t it?”