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Chapter Text

The only thing that can kill a god is being forgotten, they could be temporarily contained, they could be temporarily scattered, but as long as there was someone, somewhere, who believed in their power they could return. Thus she always knew she would be both first and last among them, for every god no matter their claims of immortality feared their own demise. 

Therefore she was a god of gods. She was a god of Shadow and Death, a quiet reaper to beckon these higher beings to their final sleep. Where others were Substance and Soul, she was Absence and Void. But absence did not mean she was empty. She carried within her all that those higher beings once were, their memories, their emotions, all mixed together so thoroughly that they were indistinguishable from one another. It was from this well she drew her own identity, taking whatever bits and pieces she needed for the circumstances she was in. 

It was rare for her to take a physical form, even when she worked, instead she would race along the shadows without delay or distraction from one destination to another. When she wasn't needed, she would take herself deep, deep down in the earth and sleep. There she pooled her very essence into a sea, only stirring when she was called upon for her work. She had no name, no temple, no throne, she felt no desire for any of them. She had once had her own share of worshipers, and it was with gentleness that she had pushed them slowly away. Having nothing else to give them she left at their altars the small carved eggs she’d crafted from stones on her abyssal shore: instructions for building idols that would collect Soul from the world around them. And as those bugs turned their minds from Void to Soul so too did their worship eventually turn to gods better suited to aid them in their lives. 

She measured her life not in years or generations or even millennia, instead she measured her life in moments. Some moments were functionally only a minute or two but stretched longer in her mind as events to be remembered, she could recall with perfect clarity every god she had ever reaped. Other moments were the long stretches of silence, decades, centuries, where she hardly twitched and they were nothing more but a blink of her many eyes, easily forgotten.

Her most recent memory was of that Wyrm’s body crashing above her home in the Abyss, it’s breaths shaky and weakening. So close it had fallen that she barely had to put any effort into reaching its soon-to-be corpse. Forming one void tendril into a scythe she approached, humming a song only she could hear, only to pause surprised as she felt a change in the air. Peering inside the gaping maw she saw a bright glowing egg-like structure where the god’s heart should be. She pulled back into the shadows and watched, waiting, this was new and unanticipated. Not death but metamorphosis. She had only seen the birth of a new god through the faint memories of others, and though she knew now that her presence was not required she still felt a pull to remain. Eventually a figure emerged, though shorter in stature then she would have guessed she could still sense the immense power contained within, this was a god of Light and Mind. Yet its light did not hurt her eyes, it was a pale silver glow that reminded her of the candles once lit in her honor, the light that did not burn away shadows but instead cast them flickering about a room in dance. 

There could be worse neighbors she supposed. The moth goddess far above on the cliffs, for instance, was a god of Light and Dreams, and its light scalded whenever she glanced in its direction. But she did not begrudge the Radiance its nature, unlike many other gods her proximity meant that she and the Radiance had bumped into each other while working, and she knew that the Radiance feared what she represented and resented being reminded of the mortality of even the brightest gods. Thus distracted she slipped back down to the Abyss and this new Pale King never even knew she had been near. She returned to her slumber.

She was not unlike an ocean, a few cups of Void taken from her pool went unnoticed, a dozen more and she barely shivered, but when the hundredth or so was drawn she began to stir. That was when the eggs arrived, strange empty things with a fading glow of SOUL, dead before they could ever be truly higher beings yet they called her to them anyway, her tendrils stretched from the depths to wrap them in her embrace, and with a soft sigh she snuffed the last of their light turning them into inky black reflections of her own being. 

She had almost fallen back into slumber when the first egg hatched. Her many eyes snapped open in surprise as the tiny creature stumbled out of the broken shell and fell to its hands and knees. Two hands. Two knees. A small white mask with only two eyes and small horns curving upward. It looked nothing like her at all. But as the creature shakily began to stand it looked out towards the Abyssal Sea, directly towards her, and in those two eyes she saw her Void staring back out. As she tilted her head in confusion the small creature mirrored the action and she felt a pulling deep in her heart, but just as she started to reach out slowly with a tendril from the depths the creature turned from her and looked upwards towards the exit of the Abyss and began to climb the rocky walls. Her eyes began to follow it when more cracking drew her attention away, more eggs were hatching. Several more creatures appearing, similar in size and appearance to the first. They milled about on the rocky shore seemingly as confused as she was, yet one by one they too seemed drawn upwards and away, climbing and jumping between ledges. As she squinted towards the exit she thought she could make out a faint pale glow of silver light. 

That was when the first body fell.

The little mask shattered and the tiny shell splattered inky Void across the stone.

For the first time she could remember in her infinitesimally long life, she screamed in fear. A thousand tendrils shot towards these little beings, urged by a sudden inexplicable urge to protect and keep . But as the tendrils broke the still surface of her sea she felt pain. Not the twinges of discomfort she had experienced before in her life but a deep-seated agony that paralyzed her completely. For several long moments she could only watch as more of these miniature beings emerged, these ones hesitant and flinching but still pulled by some invisible string to climb and climb even as more bodies began to fall.

Depths of fury she never knew she was capable of burned acidly in her gut and seemingly in response the next wave of hatchlings didn’t even pause after breaking out of their eggs, racing to the top grabbing large rocks, even shattered pieces of broken masks as improvised weapons, intending to fight the presence at the top slaying all their kin. Yet still the rain of bodies continued.

As more and more of the tiny children hatched she felt as if that anger was leached from her until there was nothing of it left. That was when the dark inky pools of tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. Sobbing silently deep beneath the thrashing waves she reached and reached and reached even as her tendrils burned and scorched away when they broke the surface. Some of the children emerging now didn’t even attempt the climb, struggling to move forward they simply fell, some so weak they cracked on impact, others crushed by the bodies falling from above.

She knew who it had to be up there, that pale wyrm, what did he want from her, she would give anything, anything, just for this to stop. There could be no possible meaning to this madness. Even as the Void from the fallen bodies began to stream back into her ocean it didn’t feel like hers anymore it was different, new, and it wouldn’t rejoin her. This had to stop. She was determined to make it stop. What seemed to be the last egg hatched, this one taller than most of the others. No hesitation in its stride. Not a glance to her or its siblings or even to the exit before it began to climb, it took with her the last of her strength. She stopped struggling only gazing at the avalanche of corpses as it finally began to slow. 

An egg, one last final egg, had been buried under the piles of fallen children. And struggling out from clattering masks was the tiniest of these babes, it was already looking up, and some part of her knew it was not looking at the light, instead it was looking at its tall sibling still climbing, then it too began to find its own way up.

The fall of bodies had all but finally stopped but still she could sense that last, tiny little heartbeat of shadow, climbing with steady determination, but already the pale glow was fading from view taking the tall one with it. So the wyrm was finally pleased, and she was still confused about what he wanted, didn’t he want her dead, because she felt for the first time in her life like she was dying.

Almost hollow herself she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the ever growing burial mound to the source of scorching light, an artificial spiraling structure of metal planted in her rocky home at some point during her slumber, and inside near the top were two ordinary, completely mortal bugs that she normally wouldn’t even have noticed were there. Like stretching an unused muscle she reached for the first time in eons to speak to a mortal mind.

∾ turn it off ∾ she whispered, her voice rough and coarse.

They did not hear her.

∾ tUrN iT oFf ∾   she pleaded.

She felt just the slightest tug of response.

∿ TURN IT OFF ∿ she screamed just as a great door slammed and the littlest lost its grip. In one heartbeat the light vanished, in the next aching tendrils stretched dripping globs of Void on the floor mixing with but not reuniting with the Void spilling out of thousands of shattered bodies. In one final achingly long heartbeat the tiny child landed in her hastily formed hands 

It lay there motionless except for the rise and fall of its tiny chest. Then it lifted its head and those dark eyes met her own and with that gaze she tried to communicate everything she felt to it.

∾ i am sorry ∾

∾ i will do better ∾

∾ i will protect you ∾

∾ i love you ∾

∾ i love- ∾  

l.o.v.e. the little ghost echoed back.

Chapter Text

The little ghost is not the only survivor but it is the only one uninjured. After she sets the tiny child on the ground it grips one of her tendrils and tugs her towards various piles of bodies and pointing. She doesn't know how it can sense others when all she breathes into her lungs is death but she obeys gentling lifting and moving corpse after corpse until one of them stirs. It is one of the taller ones, two long curved horns on the front of its mask one stub on the back. A long crack races diagonally down its head ending its right eye socket, yet amazingly its chest still rises and falls. She would curl it tightly towards her heart and never let go but the little ghost still tugs intently on another tendril so she sets the child gently down in a cleared space and continues the new grim task of separating the living from the dead. 

The next one she finds surprises her by reaching up and grabbing one of her tendrils, almost as small as ghost but with four little horns, it clings to her until she moves to place it next to the first when it quickly scurries over and clutches its kin instead. At first glance it looks unharmed but its shell leaks a trail of Void from somewhere beneath its cloak. 

One by one she pulls several more children from the wreckage of her home and as she sets down the ninth the little ghost releases its grip and walks over to the small huddle of siblings. She casts her eyes about the room and does the math. Ten little hearts still beating here, one taken away by the wyrm, and thousands dead and broken scattered around her. She wants to scream and thrash and strike out at something, anything, but the only ones around are the children and she refuses to cause them any harm. 

h.e.l.p. comes the soft echo of the little ghost. She quickly lowers her face to the level of the group of children. All of them have managed to regain their consciousness and rise to their shaky feet but one. A spiderweb of cracks were cast over its mask with curved down horns and now are heavily leaking Void as the poor thing shivers and trembles. Her tendrils reach out then pause even as all the other tiny faces are turned to her expectantly. She has no idea how she can help. She has only ever reaped, never healed anyone or anything but herself. But she has to do something so she leans forward and drips her own Void over the child’s body, maybe it simply needs more, but her drops simply slide and fall off the mask.

These tiny beings were a part of her and yet so terribly different . 

She increases the flow but that was just as ineffective. Finally she reluctantly pulls back, her eyes focused so intently on the little one that the image of the trembling stopping for good will be forever seared into her memory more intensely than anything else that has happened today. For everything else she can point blame at another, and while she knows logically that this death too happened at the hands of the wyrm, in her heart…

She blames herself.

This one she should have saved.

She has to save the others.

Looking around at the other children she sees that another has laid down, its shivering head resting on the lap of the little ghost, while two others have sat down back to back breathing deep, shaking, breaths. The taller one is standing in the middle of the others and appears to be intently focused on something. She sees it clenching its little hands, hears a faint echoing howl, and for a moment small specks of white light gather around its mask before vanishing.

Of course, she realizes it now, these children are not just creatures of Void, they are also creatures of Soul.

They need Soul to heal.

She needs to find Soul and here she is sitting at the bottom of the Abyss.

∾ stay ∾ She whispers quietly to the little ghost who responds only with a silent stare.

∾ i will return ∾

Tearing her eyes away from the children, lest she change her mind she extends her tendrils upward to grasp ledges and begin her own climb. Each step carefully considered and placed so she wouldn’t knock down any of the small bodies that had been caught on the rocky platforms when they fell. 

Reaching the top was when she remembered hearing a door slam. Where there should have been a great cave opening towards the surface there was now a wall. She presses herself up against it, tendrils probing for any gap, any seam, she could force herself through, but there was nothing. In frustration she pounds against the door with all her might but it refuses to even tremble. And worse yet the air up here tastes of soul magic, it must have been used to construct and reinforce this barrier. Too weak to break through this seal, too weak to dig a tunnel out, she was just too damn weak . 

Was she doomed to watch the little children, no her children, die one by one? Still she had told the little ghost she would return and even if it was in failure she had to go back to them. Delicately tracing her path back down her eyes caught on the ancient relief carved on the far wall. Almost imperceptible in the darkness if not for the simple fact that the natural rocks of the chasm’s walls were not that smooth and rounded. The vault. She had forgotten about the vault. It wasn’t Soul inside, but something older, far more rare and valuable. It was… it was…

Damn the wyrm. Damn the pain still aching through her being.

Her memories were far too faint and hazy, slipping from her mind as soon as she tried to focus on them. She knew she kept the vault closed for a reason. She also knew that what lay inside wasn’t dangerous… it wasn’t… wasn’t dangerous to her, therefore it shouldn’t be dangerous to them , and there was no time !

Launching a small ball of void magic at the glyph she raced towards the slowly opening vault door, squeezing through the widening crack she had to blink a few times before her eyes adjusted to the faint blue light. There, the hanging cocoon, giant and engorged, that was what she needed.

She tore open the cocoon with desperate violence and even as the lifeseeds scattered she ignored them. With no mouth to drink with, no cup to fill, she pulled the Lifeblood directly into her own inky veins of Void. 

It was only when she was leaving the vault that she felt the impact of what she had just done. The whole room seemed to spin around her and she tripped and stumbled on her own tendrils as she struggled forward and then down. And down. And down. The Abyss was deep but she couldn’t remember it being this deep, it felt never ending. 

And yet somehow she did finally reach the floor. And the children. All nine of them still breathing although the conditions of a few appeared to have worsened. Without hesitation she stretched her tendrils over them and let fall a gentle rain of Lifeblood. 

If she could have put her trust in another god she would have prayed.

∾ let this work ∾

∾ let them be okay ∾

She passed out.

She awoke to a light tapping on her face, blearily opening her eyes she saw all nine children’s faces clustered in front of her. Though her whole essence still throbbed with pain her heart felt like fluttering wings when she saw that the many cracks and fractures on their masks were almost entirely closed, though a few faint lines still lingered where the worst injuries had been sustained.

o.k.a.y.?. asked the little ghost. 

∾ yes, yes, you’re all healing, you’re okay, you’re safe ∾

Though the eyes in the mask could never close she still felt as if the little ghost blinked at her.

o.k.a.y.?. It repeated this time pointing at her.

∾ .... yes? ∾

The little ghost gave an almost imperceptible little nod, then beckoned one of its siblings forward, the tall one, who then pointed at the little ghost.

g.h.o.s.t. came a deeper but still echoing voice.

Then the little ghost pointed at the tall one but was silent.

Confused, she tilted her head, a few of the children mimicked the movement while a few others appeared to have already lost interest and had begun exploring the edge of the Abyssal Sea.

The little ghost pointed at itself and repeated its sibling g.h.o.s.t. Then pointed sharply twice at the tall one in silence.

Her many eyes widened in realization, a name , it thought ghost was a name and wanted to know what the other children’s names were. She’d never had a name, there had been no mother or father to name her at her birth, and she had certainly never even dreamed of having children herself. But if they wanted names, she should name them. 

She could name them, right?

She remembers the tall one, it’s strong stance as it tried to focus its tiny reservoir of Soul.

∾ Howl. ∾ she tests with her voice, but there’s no taking it back for already the children’s tiny echoing voices are, well, echoing her, pointing at their sibling, who almost appears to have gained an inch in height as it stands tall. 

The short one with four little horns darts forward and pats its chest with both hands in quivering excitement, never silent it’s voice a constant, faint yet pleasing humm. 

∾ Melody. ∾ escapes her without a thought.

m.e.l.o.d.y. It sings back before turning and tugging another child forward, this one laughing at Melody’s antics with the faint ringing of a bell, even as Melody shoves the child in front of the group she has already chosen.

∾ Chime. ∾

A splash catches her attention and she looks over to see three children playing alongside the edge of her pooled Void, one picking up pebbles to drop one by one into the ‘water’ while another jumps from small pool to small pool. The third racing back and forth between the two, it’s little cloak rustling and flapping about. 

∾ Ripple. Puddle. Flutter. ∾ and though they don’t even look her way she still hears echoed responses of acknowledgement from their direction.

Melody has since grabbed the hands of the last two siblings and pulled them forward, they would be identical if not for the faint crack still racing across the one’s mask. They clutch to one another as well as Melody and while they do not project their voices to her she can catch faint mutterings they send to one another. 

∾ Whisper? Sigh? ∾ she murmurs against the pounding growing once again in her mind.

The two siblings pause turn to look one another in the eyes and then nod once firmly in almost perfect synchronization. 

There should be one more, she thinks, her heart beats in time with ten not only the nine her eyes can see, but that one is beyond her grasp, tucked away somewhere far above bathed in pale light, do they even know she is down here? That they are not alone?

She could feel her consciousness slipping from her again, slowly but surely. A light pressure against her side and she looked down to see Whisper and Sigh nestling themselves against her, and she felt instinctively that they were yawning even without mouths. Ripple, Puddle and Flutter seemed to finally tire of their games and stumbled back over to the group, falling over one another into a pile that would have grimly resembled the burial mounds filling the room around them were it not for the light tinkling laugh of Chime as they climbed over their siblings to claim the top. Melody, Howl and Ghost sat down in a small circle in front of her, still pointing at one another and repeating their names. She reached out a tendril to wrap loosely, protectively around them.

As she drifted off she saw Melody and Howl point at her while still focused on Ghost. 

m.o.t.h.e.r. came a quiet confident echo from Ghost.

And then the sleep claimed her.

Chapter Text

Even gods dreamed. Rarely had hers ever truly been her own: her slumbers only ever interrupted by the faint threads of other gods memories stirring in the depths of her Void. Colorless, smeared like oil, they would rise then fall away again, forgotten as easily as they arrived. 

This was different.

This was new.

Tainted orange and tasting sickeningly sweet.

She looked out from eyes not her own, body wrapped tightly in silver metal armor that simultaneously suffocated and burned. Hands she did not control swung a heavy clawed scythe through the shells of a seemingly endless wave of glowing aspids. Alongside her fought similar armored figures and for a moment she blinked and saw the same scene through a dozen different sets of eyes.

⁂DEFEND⁂ ⁂KILL⁂ her own voice unwillingly echoed in her head, but not alone...

⁂DEFEND⁂ ⁂KILL⁂ layered on top, another echoing voice rang even stronger...

⁂DEFEND⁂ ⁂KILL⁂ her heartbeat pounded like a drum in time...

⁂PURGE THE INFECTION⁂ the Pale King sang as she screamed along until she fainted from shock.

One dream quickly faded to another.

This time she stood at the edge of a magnificent throne room. In front of her a squid was gesturing to blueprints laid out on the floor, but she ignored it completely her, gaze immediately focusing on the figure who sat on the throne, listening. The Pale King was a mere leap away from her.

∾ kill kill kill kill kill kill KILL HIM ∾she chanted, pulling against chains she could feel but not see, yet the vessel she inhabited, which she already knew to be capable of violence, refused to budge an inch at her command, it seemed her voice alone was not strong enough, but she couldn’t stop. Screaming the command until her voice was raspy and hoarse and descended into an almost incomprehensible babble. 

The Pale King beckoned and a small figure emerged from the shadow of the throne to stand by his side. Somehow the sound of its little cloak swishing as it moved was the loudest noise she had ever heard.

The stolen child.

∾ alive... alive.... alive... you're alive alive live live livelivelive… ∾ she whispered with the last of her energy.

The vessel she occupied gave the slightest twitch of its hand, an almost imperceptible reach towards the child. 

The child turned its head.

Their eyes met, Void staring into Void.

Then she was cast back into oblivion.

She startled awake back home, a comfortable weight still pressed into her side, too weary to even move her head and look she probed around with thin tendrils, gently stroking the masks and shells of sleeping babes. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight… Eight…

She painfully jerked her head up and twisted herself around, trying not to disturb the others but still desperately looking around the Abyss.

∾ ghost ∾ she called, ∾ gHoSt ∾

h.e.r.e. came a prompt response from above.

Tilting her gaze upwards she saw Ghost up on a ledge near the vault silhouetted in a faint blue light. He quickly hopped down, fluttering from platform to platform until he stood in front of her, a lifeblood bloom clutched in his hand, the petal wings still gently quivering in an imitation of flight. He proudly held it out towards her.

f.o.u.n.d.p.r.e.t.t.y. He said, f.o.r.m.e.l.o.d.y.

Exhaustion already clouding her mind she reached out a tendril and scooped Ghost up and set him down in the middle of the clutch. 

∾ that’s sweet of you. i’m sure your sibling will love it ∾ she murmured, ∾ but i need you to not wander too far off, it might not be safe to go anywhere else, okay? ∾

o.k.a.y. Came the almost yawned reply. w.e.s.l.e.e.p.?.

She was no longer awake to give him a response.  

Ding , came the faintest metallic clang accompanied by the sensation of being poked. She opened her eyes expecting herself to wake up in the Abyss to one of her children and indeed staring up at her was a familiar looking white mask with arcing horns. But this babe was wrapped in red and she was trapped once again in a metal shell. 

Ding , the child struck the armor lightly again with a small stick clutched in one of her hands.

This was not one of hers, under that mask were eyes of substance, glittering things dancing with light, no Void in her sight, and yet, and yet...

“Hornet, dear, don’t pester the guards.” came a commanding feminine voice from down the hall.

“It’s fine Herrah, the Hollow Knight can keep an eye on her.” replied the voice of the Pale King, “As I was saying…” his voice faded away and she didn’t even bother to look towards the trailing footsteps, her gaze still caught on the little girl now swaying from side to side as if looking for a better angle of attack. But this time when she swung the stick it was easily caught by a hand sweeping in from above.

Her child, Hollow the king had called it, but she dismissed the name without another thought, Void was never empty but Knight , Knight might suit, at least for now.

Her stolen child had grown, now they stood at the height of the armor she occupied, a long nail strapped to the back of their dark cloak. They held the stick above Hornet as she chattered angrily and bit at their wrist. Finally giving up Hornet turned her back and crossed her arms muttering something under her breath that could barely be heard at the end: “...no fun.” 

The Knight tossed the stick away over some balcony and stood silently waiting and staring at the red-cloaked child expectantly.

Petulantly Hornet started stomping down the hall and the Knight followed, almost running into Hornet when she stopped unexpectedly and thrust one of her little hands up in the air, there was one long breath of pause before the Knight reached down and held her little hand in theirs.

The two children walked out of her sight and this time she faded peacefully slowly back to sleep.   

CLANG , came the crash of metal against metal as she was torn away from total unconsciousness, thrust once again into the smothering armor, a swinging scythe in her hands.

Swinging straight towards the mask of the Knight. 

She was wielding a weapon against her own child.

∾ STOP STOP STOP ∾ she cried trying to pull the weapon away, but still it swung, coming within an inch of her child’s face before being parried away by their nail.

⁂AGAIN⁂ came the voice of the Pale King layered with her own.

CLANG, the weapons clashed.

⁂AGAIN⁂ she heard herself say in stereo even as she cried ∾ no no no no no ∾

CLANG, CLANG, CLANG, reverberated deep in her chest

⁂AGAIN⁂ faster.

⁂AGAIN⁂ faster still.

∿ ENOUGH ∿ she screamed and finally managed to slow the scythe’s trajectory ever so slightly.

It cost her that arm, the limb still clutching the weapon fell limply to the ground.

The Knight took advantage of the subtle opening she’d provided and was now slicing her armor apart with its nail. 

The dull burn she associated with the armor now burst into scorching pain.

∾ why ∾ she gasped to herself.  

n.o.m.i.n.d.t.o.t.h.i.n.k. Came the unexpected reply from her child towering over her.

n.o.w.i.l.l.t.o.b.r.e.a.k. The Knight’s eyes bored into her even as the nail continued to rain down blows.

n.o.v.o.i.c.e.t.o.c.r.y. The last plate of armor fractured and they thrust the nail straight into her heart.

“Enough.” the Pale King’s voice echoed around the arena, “That’s enough training for today. Come along.” The Knight pulled his nail out of her cooling corpse and turned and walked away without looking back. “As you can see Lurien, it has reached its final molt, I’d like you to find an appropriate armorsmith in the city that can…” The wyrm’s voice faded to nothing but the Knight’s voice was just as strong the further it was from her. 

t.o.b.e.p.u.r.e. 

t.o.l.i.v.e.

Laying there, it wasn’t until the last of her Void fled and soaked the ground beneath her that she finally, slowly, painfully embraced her slumber.

Enough.

She had had enough of dreams.

Her nature normally prevented her from invading another god’s realm but that did not mean she wasn’t capable of doing so. If she couldn’t get to the Pale King, so be it, she’d tear the very hearts of Dream and Nightmare apart to vent her frustration and pain. Reaching out she could feel both but the Radiance was closer and…

And the Radiance was screeching. And the Dream Realm tasted sickeningly sweet, and wrong.  

Like dripping oil she slid herself into the Dream Realm to come face to face with the moth goddess who floated before her with madness in her eyes.

⋙ANCIENT ENEMY YOU DARE!!!⋘

∾ what have you DONE? ∾ she gasped, the very air around them saturated in an illness she could barely comprehend.

⋙I??? THOU ARE THE ONE WHO CONSORTED WITH THE USURPER!!!⋘

∾ the usur--? ∾

⋙I WILL NOT BE FORGOTTEN!!! NO MATTER THE USURPERS SCHEMES!!!⋘

⋙YOU WILL ALL BURN IN THE DAWN!!!⋘

⋙YOU WILL NOT CONSUME ME!!! I WILL RECLAI--⋘

The Radiance’s squawking voice was cut off as one moment the two of them stood in the Dream Realm and the next they stood in nothing. Absolutely nothing but Void.

The Radiance wailed and leapt for the nonexistent skies, desperately trying to flap her wings away only to strike suddenly a brilliant wall of light, a binding seal of soul. The goddess screamed and fled in the other direction only to strike a second wall, then a third before plummeting down to be enveloped by darkness.

There was a moment of utter silence. Then a sharp spear of light shot up, nearly striking her in the face.

f.a.t.h.e.r.?. Came a pained cry from somewhere below as more spears were flung from every angle. The darkness fading, she briefly caught glimpses of the moth goddess thrashing about, ensnared by tendrils of Void. One spear grazed her side and she felt the sickly burn of infection and she quickly sliced that part of her away in shock.

t.h.i.s.v.e.s.s.e.l.b.r.o.k.e.n…..f.a.i.l.s.

Fear blossomed deep in her heart. ∾no. no. no. no no no no nononononono∾

She reached her own tendrils down and poured more Void over the Radiance, forcing the goddess back under black waves.

∾ take, take, take whatever you need, it’s yours, i’m yours ∾

She would pour until she was empty if she had to.

∿ LIVE ∿

She awoke in the Abyss to a splash of liquid against her closed eyes. Slowly blinking them open she saw that the entire chasm was cast with a faint blue light that did not burn but cooled her feverish skin, vines covered the walls Lifeblood blooms dancing to a nonexistent breeze. Another splash against her skin, she looked down and saw her children gathered before her, Howl and Melody still squeezing struggling Lifeseeds over her until they burst, liquid dripping down onto her tendrils. This time the effect was less intoxicating and more energizing, filling her with strength. As she stirred eight little bodies jumped and turned to her, echoing with impressions of w.o.r.r.y. as they began clutching to her or running tiny hands gently over her tendrils. 

Ghost toddled over from the edge of the cavern wall, a Lifeseed clutched to their tiny chest but at the sight of her head lifted dropped the thing and let it scurry away as Ghost raced over to embrace the tendril closest to her face. 

m.o.t.h.e.r.o.k.a.y. Ghost sighed m.o.t.h.e.r.s.a.f.e.w.e.h.e.l.p.

Her voice escaping her she could do nothing but gently squeeze all the children a little. But then Ghost pried themself from her grasp to stand directly before her.

s.i.b.l.i.n.g.n.o.t.s.a.f.e. Ghost said sharply pointing up, w.e.n.e.e.d.g.o.h.e.l.p

Chapter Text

One benefit to the Lifeblood vines unexpected and accelerated growth was that they had weakened parts of the ceiling of the Abyssal cavern, and by following their roots she had been able to begin carving out a path circumventing that damned seal. But it was slow, relentless work: had it been days, months, years since she had last heard her lost Knight’s voice? She honestly had no clue, her perception of time had always been considered odd by the few other gods who ever been brave enough to stop and chat with their eventual reaper.

It was definitely taking way too damn long , of that she was sure. She had to maintain a physical form to dig, and while the Lifeblood had invigorated her for a time the further she stretched away from the Abyss the slower and weaker that form became, she often caught a tendril or two slipping away into the shadows if her focus lapsed for even a heartbeat. 

w.e.g.o.h.e.l.p.n.o.w.!.?. came Ghost’s voice suddenly behind her and she would have jumped in surprise if it hadn’t been the twentieth time that day alone that they had snuck up behind her while she tunneled.

∾ i’m still digging ∾ she murmured, putting all her effort to prevent the twinge of annoyance from sneaking into her tone, ∾ take a nap? ∾

n.o.t.s.l.e.e.p.y...i.h.e.l.p. Ghost stated firmly picking up a stone almost as big as their head before toddling off to take it out of the way.

With a sigh, she relented and made sure to slide enough of her figure to the side so that they would have a clear path to move. She had quickly discovered early on that her children seemed to have only three settings: sleep, work or trouble. 

She’d kept them busy for a time gathering the masks of their fallen kin and laying them in safe, out of the way corners (the dead children’s shells had disappeared at some point when she had slumbered, only leaving behind the many masks and pools of Void for which she had dug trenches, it seemed wrong to gather that liquid back into her own sea, the one time she had tried had made her itch in a peculiar way.) But when the children were then left without some sort of goal they would get into anything and everything they could, she tried not to begrudge them that, Void was designed to consume experiences after all, and thankfully there was very little down in the Abyss that could harm them.

Didn’t stop them from trying.

How one of them had managed to find a Shadow Creeper nest in the upper levels she would never know, those primal bugs had usually kept to the ancient basin above, but the shriek Howl had given when the little crawler had bit their hand had been nearly enough to stop her heart. Again. She had practically flown out of the tunnel to smack the creeper away and against the wall. Though the scolding she had given the flock of children hadn’t seemed to really sink in, whenever she stuck her head back into the Abyss to check on them she’d often catch a couple children playing some primitive game of tag the Creepers had no concept of their role in.

She also knew heights poised no danger to them now, though her heart still skipped a beat every time one jumped some particularly wide gap. It was Puddle who had taught her that the first time they had slipped and fell from some high ledge in the Abyss when she’d been tunneling. She had sensed the drop but hadn’t made it back to the cave in time to catch them, only to see them hit the ground with a muffled *thump* and then in one painfully long heartbeat bounce back up to their feet like nothing at all had just happened. 

Of course, that meant that it hadn’t been the fall that had killed any of the other children, a thought she tried to avoid dwelling on for the acidity it stirred in her gut. 

More worrisome was how intent they were on getting out: at one point early on she had managed to open a hole directly into the depths of Deepnest, she’d barely stuck her head out to take a peek before Chime and Flutter who had been keeping her company were darting out and racing away. She’d managed to snatch them up and pull them back down before they got too far away, the sickly stench of infection filling her lungs and just there, standing a ways ahead, her little Knight. She’d almost reached for them too for a split second until her mind caught up to her actions and she’d instead pulled on the rocks above her, caving in that portion of the tunnel.

Knight wasn’t little anymore.

That lesson had involved a lot of one-sided screaming and shouting, and while she regretted now how the children had flinched away from her at one point it was one they needed . Despite the vast amounts of death that had surrounded their birth her children seemed to have no comprehension of their own fragility , how very mortal they were, that there were plenty of creatures in the world above that would love nothing more than to eat them. They could only leave when she found a safe exit and they would all leave together if and when the opportunity came. 

Which might be now, as she wrenched away one last boulder, opening the tunnel to howling sandy winds, the edge of the Wastes laid bare before her eyes.

Chapter Text

She’d managed, just barely, to convince Ghost to wait for the others to awake naturally but it wasn’t long before all nine hatchlings were clustered behind her tendrils at the new exit, all aquiver with excitement. She’d scarcely lifted herself out of the tunnel before they were racing ahead towards the Howling Cliffs. Her physical body stiff and sore and too slow to keep up, she discarded it like a bug shedding away a molt. It vanished into nothing and she slid her essence along the shadows, now easily and comfortably able to dart from child to child as they showed off their acrobatic skills in a brand new environment. 

Thankfully this area appeared pretty quiet, apart from the wind , but the worst danger she could spot were tiktiks and crawldids, and at this point she felt she was protecting the bugs more than the children when she’d gently reach out and push one away from the other. Her bigger concern was the fact that they kept picking up random shiny little fossils and stuffing them into their Void somewhere and she was sure it was going to give them a stomach ache somehow, despite their distinct lack of actual stomachs.

But then again it only took a moment to become too complacent.

The screech of a Vengefly came from above and it dove from the skies, its pincers aimed for where little Ripple was scrambling up a low cliff wall. She quickly responded, darting over and casting a spell out from the shadows and…

And nothing.

Her magic fizzled and died.

Trying again, she reached deeper, tried another cast, and this time felt something inside snap. Void magic consumed the Vengefly and sent it tumbling, dead, to the ground, but she hardly noticed, she didn’t see it because she couldn’t see . Her Void Heart gnawed and crunched away at itself . She’d stretched herself too far, too thin, too fast. She’d let the tart taste of Lifeblood fool her into thinking herself full , let herself think the exhaustion came from remaining physical , when in reality, she was starving for the first time in her life. Even the shadows she was pooled in felt too damn bright and she had to retreat, smaller and smaller, into herself.

A second Vengefly, drawn by the call of the first, was already diving rapidly towards the siblings, and she could do nothing, not even aware of its approach.

That was when Ghost sprung from somewhere above and smashed the Vengefly away with a blunted old nail. And when they landed in front of her their shadow felt cold, inviting, safe, and she dove into it with reckless abandon. And for a time she merely clung and breathed .

By the time her focus and sight returned to her, the howling, sandy winds of the cliffs had vanished, replaced by tiny echoing footsteps through a quiet cavern. Voice escaping her she still managed to send out a question of ∾ okay? ∾ which was answered promptly by several echoing s.a.f.e.

Peering out from Ghost’s shadow, she quickly counted all nine siblings walking in a tight, if not entirely orderly line, lead by Ghost and trailed by Howl and Melody who now also were carrying short nails. She focused the image of the tiny blunted weapons in her mind, projecting it towards Ghost who answered with the image of a strange little hut they’d discovered in a cave earlier, surrounded by nails driven into the ground, they hadn’t gotten too close or gone in but the three siblings had snatched up their appropriately sized blades from the outskirts. Part of her trembled, the image of the Knight wielding a nail against her rose unbidden, but she forced herself to push feelings of gratitude and encouragement to Ghost who responded with a pleased little nod. If she couldn’t do her job protecting them, at least they could protect themselves.

It was almost too easy to slip into slumber, the comforting sway and swing of Ghost’s shadow as they moved imitating the rocking of a cradle, so when Ghost suddenly stopped and pointed up she was startled. She followed their gesture.

An ancient script had been carved on the wall, and the magic lighting the words was definitely the Pale King’s, though it was faint and fading. Squinting suspiciously at the first stone tablet she read, Higher beings, these words are for you alone. Your great strength marks you amongst us. Focus your soul and you shall achieve feats of which others can only dream.

Well that was about as vague as it was pointless. She answered Ghost’s questioning echo with a shrug, higher beings was usually a phrase used to speak about gods, both major and minor, but any mortal bug with a hint of magic in them could read this as long as they could translate the script.

Another tablet, Higher beings, these words are for you alone. Within our lands do not hide your true form. Let all bask in your majesty, for only this kingdom could produce ones such as you.

She didn’t even bother to roll her eyes as she tucked herself more comfortably into Ghost’s shadow, feeling a pleasing little tickle of spite at the thought that she was, even if somewhat unintentionally, defying an instruction of that wyrm. But it was the final tablet that stirred something odd in her chest: 

Higher beings, these words are for you alone. Beyond this point you enter the land of King and Creator. Step across this threshold and obey our laws. Bear witness to the last and only civilization, the eternal Kingdom. Hallownest.

Well the arrogance on display certainly wasn’t surprising but it was odd. The Pale King was a god of Mind after all, but had he somehow lost his own? There were plenty of civilizations out there, she’d visited many of them in her work. Kingdoms rose and fell all the time birthing and killing gods with them. They were an always effervescent tide, creating the gentle waves of the Abyssal sea.

Waves that she hadn’t felt in a while actually.

Not since the Abyss had been sealed.

That was… concerning to say the least but she dismissed it simply as a consequence of being so weakened. 

While she had been lost in her thoughts the siblings had worked together to break open a giant, rusting, door and were now gathered at the edge of a steep drop, gazing at a quiet village, cast in the faint glow of Lumaflies. Ghost leapt down first and scurried forward to investigate, and even though she knew heights were no problem she kept her gaze on each and every tiny falling body as they followed. So intent was she on them that she didn’t notice the bug Ghost had stopped next to until it spoke.

“Ho there, traveler. I'm afraid there's only me left to offer welcome. Our town's fallen quiet you see. The other- oh.” The elderly, very normal, very mortal, beetle paused in its speech when Ripple, Whisper and Sigh darted up to stand next to Ghost.

“Pardon me, travelers ... it’s rare for groups to arrive in Dirtmouth and- oh. Oh my.” Chime, Puddle and Flutter arrived, joining the cluster. 

“There are quite many of you aren’t there. That’s-” Howl and Melody brought up the rear and now nine tiny masks were staring intently at the bug.

“I uh- um- pardon me, you’ve all taken me by surprise, please excuse my rudeness, I am known as Elderbug... and you are?”

Silence.

Elderbug coughed gently.

More silence. A few masks slightly tilted.

“Well- um- The other residents, they've all disappeared you see. Headed down that well, one by one, into the caverns below. Used to be there was a great kingdom beneath our town. It's long fell to ruin, yet it still draws folks into its depths.”

s.a.m.e.?. Melody hummed, focusing the image of the Elderbug’s mask in their mind. She couldn’t deny there was a resemblance between the mortal bug and her children, though this Elderbug certainly had a mouth, and boy were they using it.

“Wealth, glory, enlightenment, that darkness seems to promise all things. I'm sure you too seek your dreams down there. You wouldn’t be the only ones. Many others used to come, hoping the kingdom would fulfill their desires. Hallownest, it was once called. Supposedly the greatest kingdom there ever was, full of treasures and secrets.”

d.i.f.f.e.r.e.n.t.t.o.o… came Howl’s scratchy voice.

b.u.t.n.i.c.e. Chime chimed in.

“Hm. Now it's nothing more than a poisonous tomb full of monsters and madness.Be careful, even in a group you should all watch out. It's a sickly air that fills the place. Creatures turn mad and travellers are robbed of their memories...”

The Elderbug finished his little speech and blinked, his little crowd of listeners having stood as still as statues were it not for their breathing. And waited for a response.

None came.

“....not the talkative type I suppose?” 

She supposed she could reach out to the bug’s mind, but that seemed terribly rude, and she was still so tired, and it seemed to be harmless enough. 

t.i.r.e.d. echoed little Whisper followed almost instantaneously by a questioning n.a.p.n.o.w.?. from Sigh. Several little heads dropped in response, sleepily echoing the idea.

“Oh. Feeling tired? That bench may be iron, but I assure you it's quite comfortable. There's no better place to collect your thoughts before heading below. Though I suppose… No I don’t think you all would fit would you? Well.... hmmm…. There’s…” The Elderbug drifted off into silent contemplation for a moment before continuing. “Well I suppose there’s no harm in offering. Quite a number of these houses stand abandoned, and I knew a few past occupants who surely wouldn’t mind opening their doors for weary travelers to rest, the beds are likely rather dusty-”

As the Elderbug continued rambling the children sent a questioning echo to her and she responded with weary assent.

“-and I’m sure I have a few extra sheets tucked away if-” the Elderbug was interrupted by the rapid nodding of nine little heads. “Indeed? Well then let me just grab my old keys, I’ll be right back.”

It wasn’t long before all nine children were tucked into a large, and yes rather dusty, bed and had fallen fast asleep. She herself refused to embrace unconsciousness while the Elderbug still stood in the doorway watching, he seemed like he couldn’t harm a maggot if he tried, but she’d never often interacted with mortal bugs and wasn’t sure if her instincts were that good.

“Hmm, poor little things, such a terrible world that sends children out of the nest so early...” the Elderbug murmured to himself before leaving and gently closing the door behind him.

Oh, well then, maybe he could be trusted.

Either way, sleep sounded heavenly, and she pooled in her children’s collective shadow and joined them in drifting off.

Far too quickly she was jolted out of sleep by the hushed little echos of Ghost and Howl speaking to one another in the doorway. As she stirred they froze, and she got a distinct taste of quickly stifled guilt from their direction. 

∾ what? ∾

Silence.

∾ Howl? Ghost? ∾

g.h.o.s.t.w.a.n.t.g.o.n.o.w. Came rapidly from Howl, who Ghost turned their head to their sibling with such a pang of betrayal.

Her eyes narrowed. Howl looked down and scuffed their foot in the dirt but Ghost met her gaze and shrugged completely unapologetically. 

n.o.t.s.l.e.e.p.y. Came the almost mutter from Ghost.

∾ not- Ghost- i- what are- not- you’re not sLeEpY so you’re what? I- you’d just- weren’t you listening to that bug- it’s dangerous- stinks of infection- ∾ she scrambled for words as Howl scurried back over to climb in the bed.

n.o.t.s.l.e.e.p.y.s.a.f.e.h.e.r.e.s.i.b.l.i.n.g.s.s.a.f.e.h.e.r.e.m.o.t.h.e.r.s.a.f.e.h.e.r.e. Ghost firmly said, swinging their little nail around in emphasis, b.i.g.s.i.b.l.i.n.g.n.o.t.s.a.f.e.b.i.g.s.i.b.l.i.n.g.c.l.o.s.e.b.u.t.n.o.t.s.a.f.e. One final, solid thrust of their nail outwards, N.E.E.D.G.O.H.E.L.P. they screamed and managed to jolt a couple other children out of sleep, who now joined their mother in staring at Ghost with wide eyes.

Complete silence reigned for a moment.

She hadn’t even noticed herself gathering a physical form to wrap tendrils around the nest of children, squeezing gently, tracing the faint scars of old cracks. 

Ghost stood in the open doorway, breath practically heaving .

They dropped their nail suddenly to the ground and rushed forward to embrace her.

s.o.r.r.y.s.o.r.r.y.s.o.r.r.y. They quietly echoed, tearing her breath from her chest. 

For a long time that was how the little family remained. Then there was a little tug at one tendril followed by another and another.

i.s.o.k.a.y. From Ripple. w.e.s.t.a.y. From Melody. g.h.o.s.t.g.o. From Chime. g.h.o.s.t.s.t.r.o.n.g.e.s.t. From Puddle. She found herself shaking uncontrollably as Ghost pulled away, and walked back over to their nail to pick it up. She was just about to reach out and grab them, trap them, ensnare them her desperate mind pleaded, because no, she refused to lose another...

m.o.t.h.e.r.g.o.t.o.o. Howl said firmly, all heads suddenly turning in their direction. Ghost appeared about to interject but Howl poked sharply at Ghost’s chest. c.a.n.t.g.o.a.l.o.n.e.n.o.t.s.a.f.e.a.l.o.n.e.n.e.e.d.f.a.m.i.l.y  

Well, someone had listened to her scolding after the Deepnest incident.. 

∾ And what if- ∾

Howl interrupted her, picking up their own little nail, w.e.s.t.a.y.h.e.r.e.p.r.o.t.e.c.t.e.a.c.h.o.t.h.e.r.

This was…

This had to be a terrible idea…

She was the parent, right? Shouldn’t this be her decision?

And yet, it appeared that she was completely outnumbered and outvoted.

Ghost turned to meet her gaze, pleading, and with a deep, heaving sigh she plunged into their shadow, wrapping thin, tiny tendrils tightly against their shell.

t.h.a.n.k.y.o.u. Came the quiet voice, the only thing that kept her from changing her mind.

They were off running. Racing past the Elderbug who gave a startled yelp of surprise, past the empty houses with dark windows, stopping only briefly at the edge of the graveyard before leaping swiftly into the gaping open mouth of the well. 

As soon as Ghost’s little feet hit the ground she felt a lurch in her gut and her senses suddenly felt expanded , the sickly sweet aroma of infection lay faintly in the air, but just over there…

Ghost was right.

The lost Knight was so very close.

How had she been so blind.

Like an electric current rushed through her veins she urged Ghost onward, coalescing her power in the shadows to help them jump and dash over and around stumbling empty husks that she dismissed as already dead (her mind too cloudy to comprehend that these corpses moved and reached out as if to grab on to Ghost)

The two of them finally skidded to a stop in front of a giant structure. A hollowed out ancient bug her mind supplied, a defiled corpse . But from deep inside came that faint but constant pulse, a heartbeat of Void, suffocated by Light it may be.

Entering, her whole being was ensnared by the construct that lay within: some morbid facsimile of an egg . As if this place were anything but a tomb . Gathering her thin mantle of Void about her, ignoring the sting of pain, she lurched physically out of Ghost’s shadow to claw desperately at the door, but just like the one constructed in the Abyss there was no seam, no crack she could wedge herself through, only the carvings of runes reeking of Soul magic and the imprint of three distinct masks. And it was warm, too warm...

A single little sound finally broke through the fog of her mind, and she turned her head, a squeak of a mortal bug...

A bug that had fallen on the ground in shock.

And on its head, one of those masks.

Snarling, she leapt.

Chapter Text

Quirrel had always considered himself an explorer, he’d been to many far-flung corners of the world, seen many marvelous sights, but his dreams were always consumed by one place and one place alone.

Hallownest.

Almost every other traveler he’d ever met had some fantastic story about the distant kingdom, about its treasures, about its wondrous mysteries, it’s luring majesty. But with the stories came warnings: only the strongest could survive Hallownest, only a handful of bugs who entered ever left, that the kingdom only tempted in adventurers so it could consume them, the land seeming to have a will of its own. One old moth in particular had spent an evening ranting about a dark power that slept beneath the kingdom. Quirrel was an open-minded bug but even he’d dismissed that old hermit’s ravings.

Maybe he shouldn’t have.

Oh he’d been keeping attentive to dangers and staying on his toes ever since he’d arrived in Hallownest and been attacked by the strange bug cloaked in red, carrying a needle. Her words had been confusing, she’d said something about someone waiting here for him, which didn’t make any sense, he didn’t actually know anyone else who had decided to head to Hollownest. They rang oddly true though, he did feel pulled here, pulled directly past the gloomy little empty town above and straight into this fascinating temple. The carvings on this strange black egg were complicated and completely enthralling, alien yet aching with familiarity. He’d been so entranced he barely heard the little footsteps approaching, but he’d caught the sound in time to glance over as a figure entered.

The little bug walking into the temple seemed harmless enough, the short nail strapped to their back was cracked and blunted, but appearances could be deceiving so Quirrel kept one hand on his own nail and was about to call out a greeting when suddenly…

The shadows pulsed.

How he hadn’t seen the dark creature stalking the little bug when it was so much larger than either of them he didn’t know, he tried to cry out a warning to the other bug when the inky black creature surged past both of them, knocking Quirrel off his feet to the ground as it pounced on the strange egg, clawing at the surface, somehow in complete and utter silence . Quirrel couldn’t tear his gaze away until he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

The little bug, and shouldn’t it be fleeing in fear ( he would have if he didn’t feel completely paralyzed ), had walked over to Quirrel’s side and was offering him a hand to get up. A million thoughts were stirring in his mind, a thousand questions outnumbered infinitely by a greater desire to just start screaming . 

All that escaped his mouth was a squeak.

The creature turned and there were suddenly dozens of eyes staring right at him. Still somehow silent it leapt at him.

And its tendrils grabbed the mask tied to his head and yanked. 

A sudden burst of brilliant white light blinded him for a second, he blinked and the creature was back on the other side of the temple, and was staring at him with somehow even more eyes.

Tendrils surged forward from its mass and Quirrel desperately reached out for the handle of his nail, but he was too slow. His shell was squeezed tightly by dozens of ice cold tendrils and he felt himself being pulled rapidly through the air.

This was it.

This was how he died.

Smashed against the wall by some eldritch horror story.

He screwed his eyes shut.

Tap.

The top of his head, helmeted by the mask he wore, struck the egg almost gently.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The creature was swinging him like a tiny battering ram, back and forth, to smack against the black egg again and again.

It.. didn’t exactly hurt.

Tap. Tap. THUMP.

Okay no, it was definitely giving him a headache. And his shell was starting to freeze from its grip. 

THUMP. THUMP. THU-

The creature paused mid swing.

He finally summoned enough courage to open his eyes. There on the ground was the little bug who was pulling on the creatures tendrils like some kind of mad man. Next thing Quirrel knew he’d been lowered so his feet touched the ground while the strange little bug was gesturing wildly about. Tendrils pulled away from his shell and without their support he instantly fell down onto his back.

He could feel the eyes hovering above him, just out of his sight, and he refused to so much as twitch his head. There were a few heartbeats of silence before a new tendril sprung out to wrap around his wrist.

The little bug smacked the tendril away with their nail .

Quirrel was focusing very hard on breathing and not succumbing to a bloody heart attack . He didn’t know how long he lay on the ground, breathing in, breathing out.

Breathing in, breathing out.

The shadows in the room seemed to lighten.

Breathing in, breathing out.

Warmth crept once more into his limbs.

Breathing in, breathing out.

The little bug came and sat next to his side.

Breathing in, breathing out.

With a sudden lunge Quirrel pulled himself up to a fully seated position. Casting his eyes around the room the dark creature was nowhere to be seen, but his eyes caught on the shadow cast by the little bug.

The shadow had eyes.

He blinked and the eyes blinked back.

Like a faint winter breeze a voice echoed through his sore skull.

∾ ghost says i should apologize ∾  

Chapter Text

She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that the bug had started screaming when it heard her voice. Well, screaming internally , the only physical sound in the temple being heavy breathing. This bug’s mind however was very, very loud.

To be completely honest she hadn’t even really noticed this bug at all at first. She’d simply seen the mask and when she couldn’t hold the mask itself, due to the protective Soul magic cast upon it, she’d grabbed what it was attached to. That mask reeked of the same spells cast on the barrier that locked away her Knight, it had to be connected somehow, she just couldn’t figure it out. If she were in the Abyss she’d be able to dive into memories and search for understanding of the intricacies of Soul magic, as it was she only had a foggy comprehension that this was a Seal of Binding, and such bindings always had keys. 

Then Ghost had tugged on her with an echo of r.u.d.e. and broken her focus. At their insistence she’d finally dropped the bug, but it had taken a little while for them to convince her to say sorry. 

Though now she wasn’t sure that had been a good idea...

∾ so… i apologize… ∾ she had whispered as quietly as she could.

No change. She had never exactly had any practice communicating with normal bugs, she knew innately that she possessed the ability to do but there had never been a point to it. 

∾ well i… ∾  

Still screaming. 

∾ i’ll… give you a moment… ∾ she murmured, pulling away from the bug’s consciousness completely. She remembered the two bugs in the lighthouse, the ones she had forced her voice into: their shells hollowed out, eyes leaking Void… 

She really hoped she hadn’t broken this one. Ghost would be very disappointed in her. 

For a time there was nothing but rapid breathing and blinking from the bug. She fought very resolutely to stay in Ghost’s shadow, she itched with the desire to snatch the bug back up, to consume its mind, its memories, to figure out how this puzzle piece fit. But she refused to. Ghost was right; that would be very rude. 

“....what?” whispered the bug, finally breaking the silence. “What- uh- what exactly- how- I- what in creation are you?” he got out in one long gasp of air.

Taking that as an invitation she dripped her presence back into its mind, which was thankfully much quieter now, although it still rang with an anxious hum. She decided to keep her answers short and to the point, the less time she spent in the bug’s mind was probably for the better. 

∾ a god ∾ her voice murmured, causing the bug to flinch slightly.

“Oh- that’s uh- I’ve- I’ve never met a god before.” he mumbled, lifting a hand to rest beneath his chin.

∾ not surprising ∾ no flinch this time, though the bug still shivered slightly.

“Yes- I- I suppose. I’d heard tales of Hallownest’s rulers described as gods, but I’d thought it merely an effort to evoke the devotion of their subjects, it is common after all for societies to- and- I uh-” the bug seemed to have caught itself rambling and had returned to simply blinking at the two of them. Then he cleared his throat and continued, “Are- uh- are you both gods?”

She took a moment to consider this question looking up at Ghost who had turned their head down to meet her gaze. It was a good question, one she didn’t have an automatic answer for. On one hand they were her children, and her being a god it would make sense for them to be (and she couldn’t deny that other gods were involved in their parentage, as much as the thought irked her). But not all godlings ascended to an actual pantheon, and while her children had grown stronger she felt no pull of power that other gods emanated. 

∾ no. maybe one day. they are my child. ∾

“You- uh- you called them ghost?” the bug asked while grasping backwards for his nail. She squinted suspiciously at the action but felt no malice from the bug, he seemed to merely want the comforting weight of the nail in his hand. She nodded. “A name and not a- well- descriptor I take it?” This time Ghost nodded in response. Quirrel’s breathing had slowed, the shivering finally abating completely, he took one deep breath and nodded once firmly seemingly to himself.

“Okay then- I- I am known as Quirrel.” he said, using his nail as a crutch to regain his feet.

∾ Quirrel ∾ she acknowledged, startling a strangled laugh out of the bug.

“And, uh, what should I call you?” he said with a gulp.

∾ i don’t have a name ∾ 

m.o.t.h.e.r. Came an echo that Quirrel couldn’t hear.

∾ i’m not his mother ghost ∾ she hissed to Ghost alone. She got the distinct impression Ghost would be rolling their eyes if they had the capability.

“Well that makes conversation a little difficult but not insurmountable, may I- may I ask what exactly you were trying to accomplish?” Quirrel asked while brushing dust off of his shell.

Rather than answer with words, she summoned images: the mask he wore, the carvings on the black egg, her child chained inside. (Quirrel felt each image, blinking them away like flakes of snow that had blown into his eyes)

“My- uh- my mask?” Quirrel asked, confused, reaching up as if he forgot he even wore the thing. With one hand he removed it (and it chaffed her that the protective spells didn’t even flicker, even though that made sense) and held it in front of him, comparing it to the carvings. “It is the same design isn’t it? What could possibly-” his voice cut out and his limbs trembled in panic. Panic she wasn’t causing. “I- I know who- I know who this is- I know I know. Who is it? Who is it? They’re important. I should know. I should know. Why can’t I remember-” he’d dropped his nail and clutched his skull. Still present in his mind she could feel protective magic activating and she was promptly thrust out. The spellwork wasn’t just cast on the mask, it was cast on him as well.

 Quirrel had fallen silent, both hands now clutching the mask and shaking. Ghost came over and gently grasped his wrist. Startled, the bug was able to tear his gaze away from the mask and as soon as he did the trembling abated and she was able to reach out to his mind again.

“I- sorry. I don’t understand what just came over me. I don’t understand anything that’s happening today to be completely honest. I guess I’m just hoping this is all some weird dream.”

∾ understandable ∾ she whispered, startling another laugh out of Quirrel who was quickly putting the mask on top of his head while also trying to not look at it again.

“You know. I’ve always had strange dreams. For so long I’ve felt drawn here. No longer could I resist. It seems our paths are intertwined whatever that may mean.” 

∾ so it would seem ∾ she murmured, her thoughts running wild, by all appearances this bug, Quirrel she corrected herself, was another victim in whatever war the Pale King and the Radiance had raged but there was no doubt in her that she would need his help dissolving this binding. Her lost child was so close but now that she had had a moment to be distracted she could tell that the seal had deep roots, the magic stretching throughout the area, The Kingdom of Hallownest she corrected herself again. To destroy it she would need to dig those roots up.

“...I will help you then.” Quirrel stated firmly, surprising her. She was unsure of how much of her thoughts she had accidentally transmitted to him, but she pushed to the forefront a wave of gratitude which was met with a shiver, yes, but also a smile. “I must admit I have no idea where to begin.”

She closed her eyes and thrust her other senses out. To the east lay the Crystal Peak, the home of the Radiance, and even knowing that the moth goddess was locked away ( attacking her child ) she was reluctant to head that way, it reeked of infection. Far below them she could feel echoes of the Pale King’s power, and as much as she would love to confront him ( and tear his head off ) it was indeed very far, and she feared what the wyrm could, would do to them, weak as she still was. And to the west..

To the west lay the acid lakes and creeping vines that were almost familiar to her as the Abyss, her oldest and fondest neighbor, Unn might have answers.

∾ Greenpath. We should go to Greenpath ∾

Chapter Text

The decision of where to go next, while easy to make, was significantly more difficult to accomplish than she could have imagined. 

Since they were already heading west it was a simple suggestion to first stop at Dirtmouth for a short rest; she wanted to check on the other children (she could still feel their steady heartbeats alongside her own, and knew they were safe, but there was still a difference between knowing and seeing ). Quirrel agreed readily enough, she felt the faintest threads of embarrassment when she realized he was sore from where she had gripped his shell and could probably use some rest himself. 

So when Quirrel jolted to a stop and drew his nail from its scabbard, she glanced at him in surprise and confusion, even as Ghost’s shadow continued to pull her forward.

“Wait. Look out.” Quirrel hissed out, which caused Ghost to pause and turn to him, Quirrel gestured with his nail to where a pair of husks ambled mindlessly in a tunnel ahead.

d.a.n.g.e.r.?. Ghost echoed.

∾ they are already dead. ∾ she stated, matter-of-factly, to them both, confused by Quirrel’s sudden caution. 

“...yes? And also no?” Quirrel continued, “Did you not see any of them on your way down to the temple? Some strange magic in the air seems to have stirred these creatures. When I arrived I thought they were simply normal bugs, even attempted conversation, but they seem to want nothing but violence. I was forced to cut a few down, and only ten or so minutes later they rose back up as if nothing had even happened-”

One of the husks seemed to notice Ghost and Quirrel standing there, and in an instant it’s demeanor changed, it dashed towards them, it’s claws slashing through the air frantically and ruthlessly. As it drew closer, for the first time she got a good look at its eyes.

It’s eyes that glowed orange.

Quirrel stabbed at the husk at the same time Ghost swept their own nail out and down upon it, and with those two blows it fell instantly, lifelessly, to the ground. 

The light in its eyes faded.

The second husk appeared to be drawn by the commotion, Ghost and Quirrel quickly leapt forward to dispatch it also with ease, but she didn’t leave the side of the first corpse, stretching out Ghost’s shadow. 

-̶̨̱̉͐̚͠-̷͈͍̐́͒̈́-̴͖̳̠͚͌̓

The glow of orange was gone from its eyes, and its body was still and silent yet she still felt a ringing in her ears. A static charge to the air. Pushing her senses out she could see into the very heart of the husk, a deformed ragged thing, pulsing with infection .

“We should probably be on our way before-”

-̷̲͙͉͙́̑̾-̶̨̯̈́̀-̴̡̨̤̈̐̂-̵̢͖̻̊̆͜-̶͎̮̼̠͊̎-̵͎́̐̉̚-̵̠̙͎̫̌-̵͕̳͗̆͘̕

Ignoring Quirrel’s voice or Ghost’s questioning echo she pulled on Void magic that she didn’t recognize but felt instinctual and forced her way inside the husk, crushing its heart with her Void.

-̶̡̳̤͚̼̮͆̊͊̆̈́̕ř̴͔̱͚̬̞͍͝ͅ-̷̡̢̡̙̪̮̺̫͎͖̓͊̈̄̏͘͝i̸̛͇͔͚̼̤͇̩̩̖͕̦͐̏̆̃̎͒̚͝͠-̷̱̰͔͈͉̉̎͗͛̾ŝ̷͓͙̥̟͔̟̣̜̽̂̐̕̕-̴̯̰͎̥̪̆̃́͊͜ͅe̸̹̪͐-̶̱̰̞̏̈̈

∿BE STILL∿ she commanded.

-̵̢̛̪͚͉̘̺̣̙͊͋͆͑̿̾b̵̛̮̬͎͚͋̈́̌̔͘-̴̢̛͎̩̜̙̮̖͂̆͛͒̈̕̕͜ͅử̶͔̼̗̪̰͍̙̇̽̆͑͂̑̚͠-̷̻͚͎̹̩̻͖̙͒̒̀̉r̷͆͗͛̎̾̚͜͝͝͝-̵̙̼̋̾̇n̸̢͇͕̬̈̂͂̿̿̔̔̏͠-̴̧͕̳̝͇̘͍̂̏͜͜͝

Pulling back to herself she found herself above the husk’s corpse, it’s eyes leaking trails of Void, but there was no trace of infection anywhere in it, it’s heart finally stopped for good, the ringing in her ears vanished.

“-before they decide to get back up.” Quirrel finished, turning back to look at her. The whole affair was over in a few simple seconds. Only Ghost seemed to be aware that she had done something at all, though Quirrel startled at the strange appearance the husk’s body had taken.

∾ it will not be a danger any longer ∾ she murmured to them both, moving closer to them. She reached out to the second husk and quickly repeated the magic, this time it came with no effort at all. The second husk began leaking Void from the eyes as well. ∾ neither of them will be, but you were right to be cautious around them Quirrel. we should dispose of any such creatures we come across. ∾

“...I’ll keep that in mind.” Quirrel stated, sheathing his nail, while Ghost nodded in acknowledgement. The group continued on their way to Dirtmouth.

When they arrived at the crossroad’s entrance, a familiar face peered down from the well’s opening. Chime gave a little wave which Ghost quickly responded to with a wild wave of their whole arm. Quirrel blinked up at the other child and also waved back, though his was a little more unsure.

“Is that another-?” he asked

∾ that is Chime. they are also my child, yes. ∾ she responded as Ghost was already scaling the chain to the surface. To Quirrel’s credit he only paused for a second in surprise before following. Long laundry lines had been strung between the houses on the edge of town, sheets and blankets were flapping gently in the breeze. Whisper had Sigh on their shoulders and the twins were pinning a few more blankets to the lines. Ghost waved in their direction and they responded with little waves of their own without even turning around, too focused on their work, but they did send little impressions of h.e.l.l.o. in their family’s direction.

Ripple and Flutter were running around beneath the fluttering sheets playing tag but upon noticing the arrival of their sibling raced over to give Ghost brief little hugs before stopping and staring unblinkingly at Quirrel who had just reached the top of the well. The pillbug almost slipped climbing out when he encountered their gaze. 

“Oh- hello there.” he said. 

f.r.i.e.n.d. Ghost echoed to the other children, who replied with nods and brief waves in Quirrel’s direction before taking off again, almost knocking Whisper off of their feet (to which a rare occasion occured where Whisper actually raised their voice in an angry c.a.r.e.f.u.l. promptly echoed by two faint voices going s.o.r.r.y.) They ran past the iron bench in the center of the little town where Melody sat, nail on their lap, gently swinging their feet in the air. Standing in front of Melody was the Elderbug and a tall female bug she didn’t recognize. The tall bug appeared to be scolding the Elderbug, too far away for her voice to be understood but the tone and volume certainly made that much clear.

“This town is a lot less empty than I assumed.” Quirrel said, clearing his throat, “I assume all the little ones are also yours. But, um, are the other villagers aware of your, your um, godly nature?”
∾ the other children are also mine, yes. though the bugs have not seen me yet. ∾

“Oh, well I suppose….” Quirrel trailed off one hand tucked under his chin in contemplation.

∾ should they not? ∾

“No offense intended ma’am. It’s just that-” once again Quirrel seemed to be rendered speechless and just gestured a couple of small circles in the air.

Chime softly giggled at something Ghost whispered to them, a hand in front of where their mouth would be. Both children fell silent when she looked at them and glanced away.

∾ i understand. there’s no need for that to change. i will remain in the shadows. ∾ 

“Oh- no that’s- I mean if I introduced you first maybe- it wouldn’t-”

∾ it is fine Quirrel. i am not insulted. i am pleased enough that you are not screaming... ∾

This time both children giggled openly to her, and even Quirrel was startled into a laugh that turned into a coughing fit. This attracted the attention of the tall bug who stopped her scolding and both she and the Elderbug turned in their direction. 

“Oh the other little one is back.” said Elderbug as he walked over, “You gave me a bit of a fright when you ran off yesterday without a word, but your other siblings seemed unconcerned by your absence so I assumed you can take care of yourself.” Looking up at Quirrel he continued, “And greetings to you traveler. I don’t believe we have met, are you well acquainted with these little ones?”

“Oh, no, we just met at that temple a short way underground, and I suppose we decided traveling together was a safer idea. My name is Quirrel, I consider myself a bit of an explorer I suppose.” 

“I am known as Elderbug” the old beetle said with a smile that faded as he continued. “The temple? A strange building I've heard, though I'd never dare the journey myself. The braver among us once went there to pray-”

He was interrupted by the tall bug clearing her throat, she had walked over while the others had been talking and was now standing next to them, one hand on her hip, her finger tapping a deliberate rhythm. Her gaze pointedly ran up and down Quirrel’s figure before she crouched down so her eyes were at Ghost’s level. 

“ Do you wish to travel with this bug? Do you feel safe?” she murmured gently. Ghost slowly tilted their head to the side and then rapidly nodded. She smiled gently at Ghost, “Very well then,” she rose back to her full height and the smile instantly dropped when she turned to Quirrel and poked him once, deliberately, in the chest. “Anything happens to this kid, I’ll tan your shell and use it as a flower pot.” And before Quirrel could get more than a huff of air out as a response she had turned away and marched over to the hanging laundry lines to help the twins reach a clothespin that was just slightly too high.

∾ i like her ∾

“No doubt.” Quirrel muttered under his breath as he brushed a nonexistent spot of dust from where he had been poked.

“My apologies for Iselda’s rudeness.” the Elderbug started with a slight shake of his head, “I’m afraid a lot of it is misplaced frustration at myself, she was quite upset at the state of the house the little ones have been inhabiting. I told her they didn’t seem to mind but she’d already grabbed a broom and actually smacked me with it, if you can believe that.” 

“No, that indeed seems very plausible.”

“She and her husband have recently taken up residence here in Dirtmouth, in the house beside the station. Seems they're running a map shop, which may excite adventurous types like yourself. I told them to take a larger house, especially given they're all empty, but they liked the look of that one.The way she has to bend just to get through the door...I wouldn't put up with it myself. But then again obviously my taste in real estate appears to leave something to be desired-” Elderbug was interrupted by Chime darting forward and giving one of his legs a brief hug before grabbing Ghost’s hand and pulling them further into the town. Pulled away by Ghost’s shadow she caught a quick laugh of, “-or not” from the old beetle before she was too far away to hear much more. 

The house that her children had been staying in came into sight, it was now well-lit from within by strung lumafly lanterns, all the windows were fastened open, and what little furniture had been inside was now stacked just outside the door. The mattress they had slept on the night before was propped up against the side of the house, and Howl was there, beating against it with the blunt side of their nail, sending plumes of dust into the air. But upon noticing the group arriving, Howl leaned the nail against the mattress and walked over to give Ghost a brief hug. Chime still had a grip on Ghost’s hand and continued pulling them into the house, Howl now trailing behind. Empty of clutter it seemed much bigger than before, and the floor had been freshly mopped, but in one corner a pile of blankets and pillows beckoned. From the makeshift nest Puddle emerged, a stray blanket still hanging off of one of their horns, to join Chime in grabbing Ghost’s other hand and pulling them into the mass of fabric.

The children cuddled close and chattered with one another, occasionally pulling one trinket or another out from under their cloaks, sometimes just for show, sometimes to trade with one another. The peacefulness of it was a welcome reprieve and she found herself easily starting to drift away to slumber, though she forced herself to stay awake long enough for Howl to answer a few of her questions. As the only two with weapons Howl and Melody were taking turns standing guard at the bench in the center of town, to keep an eye out on their siblings (and the villagers) safety, though the most dangerous thing anyone had encountered were a few more vengeflies. No one was leaving the edge of town without at least two other siblings with them, and the furthest they had gone was to explore the graveyard past the well and back to the cliff’s edge they had first descended. Elderbug and Iselda had treated them with nothing but kindness. They didn’t mind staying here for a little while longer if necessary. Then the siblings started with their own questions, which thankfully were directed primarily at Ghost, and allowed her to close her eyes, and for a few brief hours, slumber.

--- 

Like flipping through the pages of a book she sorted through her innumerable collection of memories, but unfortunately, also like a book, many pages were torn away or stained illegible. So much of her essence had been damaged with what the Pale King had done, so much more was still settled into the waters of the Abyssal Sea. To take it all with her would have been to force herself into a form larger than any bug or beast that ever dwelled in this world, which would have been more problematic than useful. Still she had to swallow back the frustration that made her slumber less than completely restful, there had to be something useful within her now. She plunged herself into the memories she had of every god of Soul and Magic she’d ever consumed. But eventually a restless poke from Ghost pulled her away and back to consciousness, Ghost wanted to continue moving on and once again she couldn’t find it in her to deny them.  

---

Leaving the house they caught sight of Quirrel, who was sitting on the bench, arm leaning over the back, in discussion with Elderbug. When their approach caught his gaze he turned in their direction and gave a little wave. “Awake already? It’s only been a few hours, are you sure you don’t need more rest?”

Ghost proudly shook their head.

∾ i will survive ∾ she murmured with a yawn, which made Quirrel grin a little.

“Well it appears we should be on our way.” Quirrel stated as he rose to his feet and adjusted his nail’s sheath. 

“Indeed? Well travel safely, I hope my limited knowledge will be of some use.” Elderbug said as the group headed back towards the well. Ghost gave him a little wave that Elderbug returned, and Quirrel replied with, “Yes, thank you, hopefully we’ll return with stories of our own before too long.”

As soon as Ghost’s feet hit the ground at the bottom of the well she once again felt a pulse, like her senses expanded. While Ghost and Quirrel headed westwards this time she still felt the siren pull of the black egg calling her towards the temple, an instinct she resoutley stifled. With what little sleep she had gathered came a little more understanding of the web of Soul magic entangling this land, whatever other bindings were in place, they extended only to the edge of the surface. Keeping something in, keeping something else out, it was still too difficult to focus her attention on it all without her head beginning to ache. She forced herself to focus instead on Ghost and Quirrel, who was chatting softly with her child as they stepped around the paths of tiktiks and crawldids. 

“Elderbug said he’s heard many stories about the vibrant plant life of this Greenpath, makes sense given the name after all, and that it should be a fairly straightforward path to get there, apparently one of the main roads to Hallownest’s capital city passes through it, but that if we start smelling noxious fumes we’ve likely gone too far beneath to the-”

∾ the fungal groves? ∾

“Yes, exactly, have you been there before?”

∾ only in passing, the creatures there worship no gods. ∾

“Fascinating, Elderbug could only generally describe a few characteristics of-” Quirrel cut himself off as they passed into the next tunnel and were met by a large gap. 

A moment of silence as the group peered over the edge to see a deep chasm before them, unnaturally straight and filled with metallic hanging platforms, some of which swung gently back and forth clattering chains together.

∾ this is new ∾ 

“I heard that the Pale King employed many engineers in his construction of Hallownest, if you wanted to get building supplies down from the surface you would likely use lifts like these. Could probably transport bugs as well, if they were brave enough. Shouldn’t be too difficult to traverse, as long as they are still stab-”

Ghost was already leaping to the first platform.

“-ble.” Quirrel finished, his hand jerking up as if to catch Ghost by their cloak though the child was already midair. The first platform gave a solid thunk when Ghost landed, it swayed slightly but otherwise remained steady. 

∾ they tend to leap before they look, ∾ she reassured him, ∾ a habit they’ve had since birth. ∾ 

“I’ll just have to get used to that too I suppose.” Quirrel grunted as he leapt and landed on the first platform himself.

∾ good luck with that. i’ve yet to myself. ∾ she responded as they began descending down slowly, platform by platform. Reaching the far side they were faced with a cave opening, but when she scented the air she felt no trace of Greenpath down that way, so she dismissed it and the group turned back to look for the next safe platform to leap to.

But then a whimpering sob echoed softly from the tunnel behind them. Quirrel instinctively grabbed the hilt of his nail but Ghost simply trotted ahead and in, forcing her to send reminders of caution in her child’s direction which was met with a simple y.e.s.y.e.s. and wave of their hand. The tunnel opened up into a large cavern, filled to the brim with hollowed out boulders in what appeared to be another town. It lay completely empty except for a figure hanging out of one of the highest homes, an elderly grub that was the source of the crying. And it wasn’t that difficult to discern why, she got the sense that the emptiness of the cavern was a recent development, indeed it felt not unlike the Abyss in those early days after the Pale King had sealed her away. Ghost stepped as close as they could get to the bug but it didn’t seem to notice from it’s place above.

s.a.d. came Ghost’s voice, and she had no response to give them.

 Quirrel had joined them at this point, his hand falling away from his nail at the sight of the poor creature.

“Hello? Do you need help?” he called up to the grub.

That at least did seem to draw a response as the elderly grub paused its crying to lean down and peer at them, it seemed unalarmed by Ghost and Quirrel but then it’s eyes caught on Ghost’s shadow. On her . And unlike the villagers who didn’t notice her, or Quirrel who she allowed to see her, this grub, all on its own, was definitely aware of her effervescent presence. For it met her eyes, not Ghost’s, not Quirrel’s, her’s and it screamed in fear as it quickly retreated inside its home and slammed the door shut.

Silence reigned for a moment before the sobbing began again, muffled this time.

“I-” Quirrel began in what felt like an attempt at reassurance before she interrupted him.

∾ let’s just go. please. ∾

 Quirrel nodded and they headed back out to the lifts and sought another exit.

---

She could finally scent the acidic waters of Greenpath, they were so close, were it not for the gigantic shell blocking the path entirely.

Ghost continued to poke at it with their nail.

w.h.a.t.i.s.i.t.?

∾ an elder baldur ∾ she sighed, sending both Ghost and Quirrel images of the bug as it would appear uncurled. ∾ if it does not want to move, it will not. i could potentially get by myself, but you two certainly won’t fit… ∾ She could also potentially remove it herself if she was willing to fight it, but she was reluctant to harm a simple creature like this that wasn’t trying to hurt them, even if it’s chosen resting spot was extremely frustrating .

Quirrel, who was examining the painted sign nearby, said, “The Pilgrim’s Way… descend through verdant wilds and fungal groves to the city at this kingdom’s heart… hmm… it seems unlikely that these passages would only go one way, if we can descend far enough we should be able to follow the path in reverse, perhaps enter Greenpath that way?”

She was still reluctant to head too far into what was obviously the Pale King’s territory but she couldn’t deny there was some logic to Quirrel’s idea. ∾ at the very least we can give this creature the chance to move on if we find no alternatives in the meanwhile... ∾ 

As the group headed back out to the lift room she debated simply trying to call to Unn from here, but she could barely sense the slug goddess’s presence, could barely feel anyone’s presence to be honest. Her Void Heart still stung occasionally with hunger that she was able to stifle for now, it was probably best if she reserved her essence for only the most necessary functions.  

As they finally reached the floor of the room the only option left to them was a tunnel heading even further down, a musical voice echoing from within, a friendlier noise than anything else they’d encountered so far. Ghost’s total lack of caution in heading in was still a little worrying, in only that she was now never sure if they would be cautious on their own accord, but even Quirrel seemed relaxed so she forced herself to be at least a little optimistic. 

Optimism that was rewarded by the sight of a rotund bug sitting on the floor ahead. Piles of parchment were sprawled around the bug, the steady scratch of a quill accentuating his humming tune. Though he did not seem to notice them approach until Quirrel cleared his throat, he didn’t seem startled at their appearance, “Hmm? Ah, hello there. Come down to explore these beautiful old ruins? Don't mind me... I've a fondness for exploring myself. Getting lost and finding your way again is a pleasure like no other.”

“Greetings, I am Quirrel and this is Ghost.” Quirrel said cheerfully, “It’s a pleasure to meet a fellow explorer, though I must admit we were actually hoping to visit the leafy caverns above known as Greenpath, but the way was blocked, I don’t suppose you know any alternative routes?” She sent Quirrel a pleased humm of gratitude, she would never have thought to ask.

“Greenpath? I was just there the other day actually, though I’m afraid I took that passage just above, and frankly didn’t get very far in anyways. Some of the area’s inhabitants were not exactly welcoming...” the bug replied, digging around the piles of parchment, “Ah, here it is-” he pulled out one piece and spread it open across the ground, next to the map he was currently working on, for Quirrel and Ghost to lean in and examine. “I am a cartographer by trade, and this is what I managed to map of Greenpath. Its roads twist and turn in such wonderful ways, I wish I could have gotten to see more.”

“This is fine work indeed friend.” Quirrel stated as he traced some of the pathways with a hovering finger, not wanting to smudge any inkwork. 

The bug smiled, “I’d happily gift you a copy, but I don’t think my wife would be very happy if I did, ‘all our food is made of Geo,’ as they say”.

“Yes, would not want to make your wife angry.” Quirrel chuckled awkwardly as both she and he finally made the connection between this bug and Iselda above.

g.e.o.?. Ghost echoed, patting at Quirrel’s leg, and she passed the question on to him.

“Geo is the local currency.” Quirrel replied, digging around in the hollow gap of his shell, “I’ve picked up a couple pieces.” he continued, pulling out a few shiny round fossils and holding them out in his hand for Ghost to get a good look at. “Though I don’t think it’s quite enough for-”

From somewhere beneath Ghost’s cloak came tumbling a small avalanche of small fossils. The flow stopped when the fossils formed a pile that reached Ghost’s knee. There was a breath of pause and then three similarly shaped but larger pieces of Geo fell to join the rest.

Both Quirrel and the new bug blinked at Ghost in surprise while she just let out a gentle sigh.

“Well that is certainly more than enough for these two maps.” The cartographer chuckled handing the pieces of parchment over to Ghost, then he counted out pieces of Geo as he continued, “I've tried to fill out as much as I can, but every map is a work in progress... If you'd like to fill out some of the map yourself you can purchase some mapping supplies from my wife up in Dirtmouth. We've set up a little store to help make ends meet.” he finished, shoving a much smaller pile of Geo back across the floor towards Ghost, “Your change.”

Geo which promptly disappeared back up behind Ghost’s cloak.

“Where are you keeping all that anyways?” Quirrel asked, tilting his head as if he could better understand it better with a different sightline.

∾ i honestly have no clue ∾ she murmured accompanied by a shrug from Ghost. The child then tilted their head and pointed at the other bug questioningly.

Before she could begin to translate to Quirrel the cartographer seemed to intrinsically understand the gesture, “Oh, I haven't introduced myself have I? Yes, I should apologise for that. When you spend a lot of time by yourself, with just your own thoughts, you forget the niceties of conversation. My name is Cornifer.”

Ghost responded with a nod and short wave before they were already walking away further down the tunnel. Quirrel was forced to quickly blurt out a thank you and farewell to Cornifer before dashing to catch up with Ghost in several long strides. Quirrel smiled bemusedly at Ghost who had their face stuffed into the open map of the Crossroads, only managing to avoid tripping over some stray rock or another thanks to her gentle nudges.

“They’re quite the determined traveller aren’t they?” he said and she felt a pleased little echo from Ghost.

∾ i would have chosen stubborn as a more apt description ∾ she murmured and received the mental equivalent of Ghost rolling their eyes at her as they passed through a large cavernous room, though Ghost did finally tuck the map away underneath their cloak.

Suddenly, a metal gate sprang shut behind them, while simultaneously a second gate slammed down blocking the path ahead. Both Quirrel and Ghost quickly drew their nails while she cast her gaze about the room. It seemed quiet enough as the echo of the gates closing faded.

“What in the world triggered that?” Quirrel said, turning around to examine the mechanism. She sent a short humm of puzzlement his way, largely distracted by something familiar clawing at her core. Had she been here before?

A familiar buzzing came from above that made her breath choke. Her voice escaping her, she could barely send Ghost an echo of danger , as a trio of glowing aspids descended from a nest somewhere up in the ceiling. Already, one was spitting a glob of acid straight at Quirrel’s exposed back. While Ghost launched themselves upwards to bat at the aspids with their nail, she reached out physically from their shadow to give Quirrel a shove out of the way of the projectile. 

To Quirrel’s credit, he barely stumbled before regaining his footing and quickly turning to face the threat. Between Quirrel and Ghost the aspids were quickly falling, dead, but still several more emerged from above. And she could be helping them, should be helping them, but the mere sight of the glowing aspids was enough to make unknown scars burn. Her heart beat frantically and irregularly. But even when the acid spit brushed against Quirrel’s arm, or just barely splattered against Ghost’s feet, and she felt their pain, it wasn’t enough to pull her out of the shadows. Thankfully, after what felt to her like an eternity, but was in fact only a minute or two, the last aspid fell and no others seemed to be coming. Quirrel and Ghost still held their nails warily and Quirrel jolted in surprise when a clunking sound started from within the walls. The metal gates slowly began to rise and the group finally began to relax. Quirrel sheathed his nail while Ghost warily poked at one of the dead aspids with their own, expecting it to get back up.

“Don’t worry they’re not like the husks. Just carriers as opposed to true hosts, but more than capable of spreading the plague. Quarantine procedures were created around potential nests, and it’s likely that we triggered one of...” Quirrel trailed off, cradling his burnt arm against his chest, “one of… I… hmmm… I can’t recall where I heard that… or who told me… tsk.” discarding that train of thought in frustration, he turned to Ghost. “Were you hurt?” They shook their head no. “Good.”

Finally finding her own voice, though it was still not more than a raspy whisper, ∾ you yourself are injured Quirrel, do you have enough Soul to heal yourself? ∾

Quirrel chuckled, “I’m afraid I’m no magician.” In response to Ghost patting at his leg Quirrel bent down to let the child look at the injury. “Don’t worry, it’s barely more than a scrape, just stings a little is all.” 

∾ still, perhaps we should head back to- ∾

Ghost had pulled their map back out and was poking at a room close to their position, both Quirrel and she peered down at Cornifer’s tiny, scrawling handwriting.

“Hot springs.” Quirrel tapped the map and then looked up to the far wall where the exit heading in that direction was. “Well if we’ve cleared this room out, and that’s a dead end, it should be a safe enough place to take shelter for a time.”

She gave a murmur of agreement and the group headed that way. Still angry with her earlier inaction she pried herself gently from Ghost’s shadow and darted along the shadows of the tunnel to scout ahead. The room ahead was empty except for the springs, and the warm water was obviously saturated with Soul, and thankfully completely free of any trace of infection. She poked at the pool with a single tendril and it parted away from her, like oil and water it refused to touch her skin. It was not an uncomfortable sensation, but it did feel for some odd reason that she was intruding somewhere she didn’t belong. So she hung herself around the shadows entrance as Quirrel and Ghost arrived. Her child immediately rushed to the edge of the pool and stared at their reflection. Quirrel took his nail and laid it gently on the ground before probing the water’s edge with his foot. With a satisfied sigh he stepped fully into the pool and sunk down to sit with only his head out of the water, leaning back against the edge he looked up at Ghost.

“Why not join me for a time? These waters do wonders for weary shells.”

Ghost promptly responded by leaping into the hot springs, sending a splash up into the air.

Quirrel had managed to get a hand up in time to shield his eyes from the spray but still spluttered a little when the resulting wave of water struck him. 

Ghost bobbed on the surface of the pool, apparently Void-like enough to be too buoyant to sink, but made of enough Soul that she could see the specks of white light that indicated they were absorbing strength from the waters. 

For a time they paddled around in circles in the springs before finally flipping so they floated on their back, they drifted to the edge of the pool and with a soft thump their horns braced against the stones at Quirrel’s side. Quirrel chuckled at the sight and she even found a small humm of amusement escaping her own throat. 

 Still, she dwelled in the shadows anxious and uneasy in inactivity. For once it seemed Ghost was the one wanting to rest, and she was the one who wanted to move . 

In what felt against her better judgement she spoke softly to them, ∾ i think i’m going to scout around for a bit, you will stay here until i return? ∾

Quirrel turned to look in her direction, “If you’re sure? By all means, Ghost and I can take care of ourselves for a bit I should think.” he lifted his good arm so he could see Ghost’s face. “Right Ghost?”

Her child attempted to nod, and only managed to flail a bit in the water, before sticking one hand up to extend a tiny thumb’s up.

She hummed her gratitude and raced away from the bright springs before she could change her mind. Back in the trapped room she was pleased to see the aspid’s corpses had already dissolved into practically nothing, the absence of their orange glow making it easier for her navigate the room.
Examining her options she decided rather than head further east she’d backtrack a little, still hoping against reason to find a way into Greenpath that Ghost and Quirrel could navigate (she could after all, race her way all the way to Unn’s lake now if she wanted, but to stray too far from the group felt like it would invite disaster.) 

Probing along the walls she was pleased to find a short tunnel which carried the tart taste of acid in its air. While Quirrel might have to crawl for a bit, this was certainly passable, until it finally opened up to a drop over a small lake of acid water. The next piece of dry land lay far too great a distance for Quirrel or Ghost to jump. She supposed she could try to carry them across if she had to, so she wouldn’t give up yet, sliding along the sheer cavern walls she traveled from stony ledge to stony ledge, before being confronted with yet another dead end. Quivering with frustration she struck the ledge she rested on, causing a bolder to dislodge and fall into the acid with a great splash.

Which was promptly followed by a whimpering sound from somewhere above her. Cautiously, she rose up to search for the sound.

A fine glass jar sat on a high ledge she’d missed. Inside, a young green grub was the source of the whimpering. When she slipped up onto the cliff it startled and flinched away from her, curling up into a little ball. 

≁it must be saved≁

Achingly familiar, something inside her wanted to leave the grub in the jar. But the child had peeked open one eye at her and then started to chirp and reach out towards her. It was just a babe, and it needed to go home . In one quick movement, before she could change her mind, she smashed the jar apart, taking care to prevent any glass shards from striking the grub. The grub bounced up and down, trilled happily and then immediately began burrowing down into the earth.

For a few long heartbeats she simply sat there and breathed. When she finally collected her poise, she examined the rear wall briefly, this too was a dead end, no entrance to Greenpath here. Deciding it was time to return to Ghost and Quirrel she prepared to head back across the acid pools when one of the glass shards caught her eye. She was reflected in it, but it wasn’t quite right, only two white eyes glowed out of the inky darkness. The eyes blinked. She didn’t.

≁it must be saved!≁

Closing all of her eyes and shaking her head she reopened them to see her reflection as it should be. In one decisive action she swept all the glass shards off the ledge and into the bubbling acidic pool below. Rather than dwell on the strange aching in her heart she sped back along the shadows towards the Hot Springs.

They still had to find a new path forward.