Chapter Text
Even with the ever present rumble of rain cascading onto the roof, Hollownest was silent. The echoing footsteps and groans of the townsfolk had stilled. Years of malnourishment had destroyed their bodies, the only thing that had kept them going was the infection. So when the Radiance was defeated they only had a few short moments of life before they faded away. He doubted anyone really did wake up, or at least he hopes they didn’t. It just seemed like a poor way to go. Ghost stared at the piles of bodies littering the hallway. It made the knight feel a bit melancholy. Deep down he had hoped that the Kingdom of Hollownest would return to its former glory, though he knew it would never happen. He Looked over to another body, sitting slumped over against the wall. The corpse had two long slashs going across its midsection.
Maybe it’s better this way. Who wants to live among the dead?
He continued on his path. The Radiance had been defeated less than 4 hours ago, maybe, time was sort of melding together. Like a fuzzy image he couldn’t quite make out. He hadn’t anticipated coming out of that battle in one piece. He was created to defeat the Radiance or at least contain it, he wasn’t built to live outside of those parameters. He was supposed to take in the Radiance, he was supposed to take the Hollow Knight’s place. He was supposed to die.
But he didn’t.
Now alive and without a purpose he had only one goal. Go to Quirrel.
Quirrel was without a doubt Ghosts best friend. They had spent quite a bit of time traveling together. He was good company even though Ghost couldn’t speak, even so Quirrel never failed to keep up a good conversation, whether it be a steady stream of observations of the world around them and stories of adventures he’d gone on outside of Hollownest. Ghost would silently listen, noding ever so often. But it was more about his mere presence, it always made him feel happy. A sort of warmth that spread through him. It made him feel safe in an otherwise hostile world. And that meant more to Ghost than the world.
Without a real goal left in life for Ghost, he had hoped that maybe he could just spend the rest of his time with Quirrel. Travel the lands with him, travel anywhere with him. Or just stay in Hollownest, researching the lost kingdom now that it was in a somewhat more livable condition. As long as he was with Quirrel it didn’t matter. There was nothing else left for him.
After a seemingly endless maze of rooms Ghost finally made it to the elevator. Hitting the switch the elevator rattles a bit before ascending upwards. The City of Tears was usually a dreary place, and ones mind would usually wonder with it, but with his mind on Quirrel it drifted to other avenues.
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Ghost entered a rather large room. To the right were the usual decaying books and furniture of a homestead, but on the other end was a bench, directly parallel to half circle of huge windows overlooking the City of Tears. The only light came from outside, illuminated the room in a blue hue. The hum of rain drowned out the distant footsteps of the local inhabitants, it gave the room a sort of cold atmosphere. Or it would have had he not noticed the scholar relaxing on the bench. He seemed to have a stern look about him, deep in thought, perhaps. Too deep to hear the small bug enter. Ghost walked up to the glass window in front of him. Upon seeing him Quirrel’s face lit up in a smile. There’s that feeling again, it was sort of like a heat inside him that didn’t warm the person as much as the soul. “The capital lies before us friend. What a sombre place it seems and one that holds the answers to many a mystery.” Quirrel holds a second looking back out the window, “I too have felt the pull of this place, though now I sit before it I find myself hesitant to descend. Is it fear I wonder, or something else that holds me back?” For a second that same stern face of uncertainty returned but it did not linger as he focused back to the knight. Ghost sat down next to the scholar. It wasn’t often that they got time to rest, let alone together. “The city looks to be built into an enormous cavern, and the rain pours down…” Ghost tried to pay attention, he really did (it was something about a lake), but it seemed that Quirrels presence soothed him. The heat radiating from the scholars body dulled him and his voice acted as a soft blanket. It made him feel warm, it made him feel safe. His eyes began to close and sleep overtook him…
He woke up sometime later still on the bench. His mind was still in a haze from sleep, he slowly opened his eyes. Immediately he became aware of the one next to him. His head was leaning against Quirrel’s chest, he could feel the soft rise and fall of the scholars chest. Quirrel had also fallen asleep. He had wrapped his arm around Ghost’s waste and held him close. No one had ever held Ghost like this, or ever even really held him in general. He never let anyone get this close. He spent most of his time running or keeping a solid distance away from most bugs as most bugs would rather see him dead. In any other case Ghost would’ve moved away but this, this didn’t feel so bad. He couldn’t quite describe the feeling he had, though he was sure it was one he was not supposed to have. It was like that heat again but it was stronger. He didn’t dwell on it for long and instead embraced it. There was no harm in it, nobody was trying to hurt him. There were no ghosts, no dark corridors, no pain. It was just the two of them. A moment frozen in time, one which he didn’t want to end. The rain rattled above, filling the whole room with a soft rumble. Sleep once more began to creep over his body and his eyes shut.
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Reminiscing on the past filled Ghost with hope, a feeling which he thought he had lost somewhere in the past few days. Expecting to die doesn’t really fill you with any long term aspirations. He couldn’t wait to see Quirrel again. They could start over, without the looming threat of disaster or the broken memories and dreams, without the constant threat of death and the smell of rotting corpses. Maybe now they could have a proper start. Well there’d still be the smell, in fact it’d be worse than ever. But that didn’t matter, nothing else really matters.
Ghost was so caught up in his own thoughts he barely noticed that the elevator had stopped moving. It was just a short left then a few zig zags to get to the Blue Lake. That’s where Quirrel had been just a few hours ago, right before he had gone to fight the Radiance he had stopped by the Blue Lake to… Say goodbye in a sense. Ghost pushed those thoughts away. That was in the past now. Entering the chamber, he was greeted by a small empty beach leading down to the lake. The lake seemed to… Wait, empty? Looking down at the beach he saw that it was indeed empty. Quirrel wasn’t there. He felt a slight pain in his chest, but quickly pushed it aside. Quirrel was an explorer, he was probably just out in Hollownest somewhere.
But then, why did he leave his nail here?
Indeed, Quirrel’s nail was stuck in the sand just a few meters away. It made Ghosts chest clench up, like he was being suffocated. He understood the implications. No, no, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t. Ghost took a deep breath in, then out. Everything was fine, Quirrel probably just left to go exploring and didn’t need his nail anymore, after all most of Hollownest’s beasts were dead. Quirrel was fine, he had to be. The flurry of emotions Ghost had already been through, going from the prospect of dying to being very much alive, to fall back down again... If Quirrel was… No, he couldn’t think like that. He had to be okay. Ghost quickly ran out through the opening behind him. He knew where to start.
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Traversing Hollownest was a breeze now. Well, most of Hollownest at least. Without any sort of danger blocking from the path, one could simply run wherever they needed to go, it was a luxury. Incredible. He knew that voice, it was said in his head but not in his voice. Though even without the danger the City of Tears was still a nightmare to physically get around. Moving through room after room of deselated books and old furniture with discarded junk and molding wallpaper that all looked the same. It took some time to meander through the buildings, and he felt every second of it. He couldn’t let his mind wander, he had to focus. He was scared of where his mind might go if he let it. Finally Ghost burst into the courtyard and was immediately drenched in water which gave a sort of sobering effect. Bringing him out of his craze of a search if only for a few seconds. Everything was fine, Quirrel was fine, he’d find him around here somewhere. Reinvigorated Ghost launched forward past the black statue. On his search he ran into Lemm rummaging through some old books, with the Radiance gone he could finally do his own relic searching for a while in peace. Ghost had never seen the shopkeep so happy, or really happy in general. Perhaps he had seen Quirrel recently.
Lemm was confused to say the least. The knight, his best customer, had approached him not too long ago. He always thought the knight as very conserved. Didn’t show any sort of emotions, and never spoke a word. Though the bug did have some sense about him (he was pretty sure it was a him, like 50% sure), for instance he was a curious one. Whenever he’d bring in a new piece, whether it be a journal or an arcane egg, he’d always wait and listen to the history behind it. Or whatever Lemm could come up with. But always contained and centered. Quiet and modest. And yet.
Coming out of his sort of dazed bewilderment back to the knight who was still on his escapade, making a bunch of convoluted and sporadic movements. He was obviously trying to tell him something. “All right, all right, calm down one motion at a time.” He said, nearly grabbing hold of the knight to stop his crazed movements. The knight stopped moving and looked up at the shopkeeper. “So, you are… Looking for something?” The knight gave a sort of slow nod, almost there but not quite. “You’re looking for someone?” The knight's eyes lit up immediately and he shook his head up and down vigorously. Huh, I’m rather good at this, I suppose all that time decoding journals has paid off somewhat. He thought, fairly proud of himself before moving onto the next logical question. “Whom might you be searching for then?”
The knight looked down and put a hand to his chin, thinking. Looking up again the knight ran over to a stack of old books and rips out a piece of paper. Using his quill he began to draw. Lenn looks on, though it doesn’t take long to finish. It’s an oval on it’s side with two dark circles drawn in. The mind wasn’t what it used to be and it took Lemm moment. “Oh, that’s ah,” he snapped his fingers trying to remember the name, “Quirrel, right?” Once more the knights whole being shot up in a wave of excitement as the knight jumped up and down. “Yes, I remember him, he’s been by the shop a few times over the last few days. He’s an explorer, like me, though he’s a bit more ambitious I’ll give him that.” Lemm paused a second, “We talked a while about the history of this place, he was quite knowledgeable for someone who’d only just arrived…” tap tap tap tap tap tap. He was (rudely) interrupted by the knight was was currently tapping his foot on the ground, looking up at Lemm impatiently. “I see, well I don’t know where he is unfortunately. Last I saw he was headed past the courtyard to… Somewhere. I don’t really know, I didn’t ask. I was going to ask but when I saw him, he had a sort of look about him. He seemed… How do I put this? Not sad. Lost? No, he seemed… Empty.” A cold ache ran down Lemm’s shell. That didn’t sound right. Well it was right but it didn’t sound good… Maybe I should have stopped and talked to him. He had all but stopped paying attention to the knight, it was a bad habit it seems, he only came back when he noticed the white figure leaving. “Wait, little one! Why are you searching for Quirrel? Is he alright?” He yelled after the knight but he did not respond. Though he only caught a last glimpse of the knight there was an inherent change in his demeanor. I hope you find him little one, something about this just doesn’t feel right… Staring for a few seconds more he finally returns to his book. Well back to it I suppose. But as hard as he tried it was impossible to concentrate as his mind continued to wander towards the knight and his scholar.
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The acid puddles sizzled underneath Ghost as he ran forwards through the decor of algae and mushrooms. Diving down pitfalls and bouncing off purple shrooms the Fungal Wastes was always a hectic mess to get through, and it was always miserable. The area seemed to stink, it had its own putrid scent that just screamed danger. And even though the air itself seemed to glow this place still felt…Gross. That was quite the statement coming from the bug who spent most of his time covered in blood and viscera. The gas spewing bugs, the mushrooms, the acid, It just wasn’t very pleasant to be around. But he had to keep looking, the bug he was looking for was an explorer, he could be anywhere. Finally he arrived at the Mantis Village. Out front of the gate on a stepping stone (though it was more mushroom then stone).
“So, you're going to go on a one bug assault against an entire village full of highly trained, heavily armored Mantises, or is it mantisi? An entire village full of Mantisi. Who, by the way, were able to avoid infection just by simply,” he exaggerated with his hand “existing.” Quirrel said, one arm crooked, hand in a fist at his hip, glaring down at Ghost. It was odd seeing the scholar like this, usually he was the optimistic one, always a sort of cheer around him. This face, it didn’t suit him. Frankly Ghost took offense to this, even though every word Quirrel had said was true, and gave the scholar a similar glare. “Now, don’t give me that look. I know you are a good fighter, a great one even. I’m not underestimating your prowess but I do think you're overestimating your equipment.” Quirrel said, pointing down at the short bugs nail. Ghost took out his nail, and to his dismay Quirrel had a point (unlike his nail). Half of it was rusted solid, dulling the blade. “I don’t see your blade making the cut, both metaphorically and literally.” It was always frustrating for Ghost, he could participate in the art of swordplay but not wordplay, at least not out loud. In truth he was well aware of his blade but he couldn’t stop now, he had come so far. He couldn’t give up now. Regardless he didn’t enjoy being babysat by the larger bug. Everyone underestimated him. It usually worked to his advantage in battle but it was quite frustrating when it came to bugs he actually liked. He waved his nail around in protest, still glaring at Quirrel. Surprisingly the message seemed to get through to the scholar. His face softened and he got down on one knee. “Look,” he said looking down at the ground trying to find the right words, “I’m not trying to baby you or tell you how to live, I just… Don’t want you to get killed down here. Fact of the matter is that nail of yours will have a lot of trouble cutting through mantis armor, you’ve seen that first hand.” He was, of course, referring to the stragglers outside the town they’d run into. Ghost’s nail had bounced off the mantis armor multiple times before making a proper slash. He was lucky he didn’t receive one as well. Quirrel looked into his eyes and he stared back. His face spoke volumes, it was sincere, and with just a hint of fear. “Getting yourself killed because of faulty weaponry wouldn’t do anyone any good.” Ghost stopped glaring. Quirrel stood up and adjusted his own nail at his waste. “Well, I suppose I’ll get going then, I won’t hold you back. That being said, I’ve heard tell of a nailsmith down in the City of Tears, you should go see him and get yourself an upgrade.” Quirrel started towards the city but before he left he stopped and looked back, “I have a strong feeling we’ll meet again soon my friend, until then.” And he left. But as Ghost stood there, he could swear he felt a pair of eyes watching him, down the path Quirrel had left. Finally he decided to turn back towards Dirtmouth, and that feeling faded away.
Walking through the Mantis Village was pleasant, but filled with uncertainty. With most of their food source now dead and decaying it was hard to say what would happen to the Mantises (Mantisi). But it was always nice to visit, they weren’t the friendliest lot but they treated him with a sort of respect he didn’t get anywhere else. It was nice. However, Quirrel wasn’t here. He went through the twisting village and past the Mantis Lords.
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He made his way down to Deepnest, unsurprisingly not much had changed since he had last been here. There were far less spiders and grubs, or, correction that were far less alive spiders and grubs. But the place still shook with giant worms, tunneling away endlessly. And the darkness still seems to suck everything in, even hope. Luckily the knight was resilient to such matters (hopefully). He had a feeling he wouldn't find Quirrel here. This would be the second to last place Ghost would think to look for Quirrel. In the back of his head there were only two or three really distinct places he could think of on where he could actually be, but he didn’t really want to check them yet. He’s an explorer, how else am I to find him if I don’t check ever nook and cranny? Ghost argued with himself. But it was a naive fallacy. Deep down he knew he didn’t want to check there in case Quirrel wasn’t actually there. It’s Shroudingers Scholar, if Ghost doesn’t check than Quirrel is in a state of both existing there and not. Or something like that. Quirrel mentioned it to him at one point, but he was only half paying attention at the time. But for the time being that was enough to keep him going. Though the darkened tunnels seemed to circle downwards in a never ending causim of darkness Ghost didn’t have much trouble getting around and ended up at the Distant Village. He looked back down the dark tunnel he had come out. The all encompassing darkness looked as if it was trying to follow him, to eat him up. How could anyone have pleasant memories here?
The two sat back in the water, on opposite sides of the small pool, letting the warm sensation run over them. Though Ghost would never admit it (not that he could) but the water did help his aching… Bones? He wasn’t sure he had bones, if he did, they'd be nothing but dust at this point. This train of thought brought on a barrage of new questions. Now was not the time for existential dread. It was time for relaxing. Just the two of them... And yet. Something was nagging him, and it was making it rather difficult to relax. It felt like something wasn’t quite right, he was missing something. Not in the same sense of forgetting something, no, it was something else. Opening his eyes he looked over to Quirrel, and immediately he knew what he wanted. His face didn’t flush per say, because he physically couldn’t without blood (or at least he was pretty sure he couldn’t), and it was rather embarrassing. He wanted to be closer to Quirrel. The bench in the City of Tears came to mind. That was possibly the most relaxed he’d ever been. Yeah, relaxing, that was as good a justification as any. The real tricky part, however, would be physically getting over there. The last time had been sort of spur of the moment, no controlled variables. He just wanted to replicate that feeling, that essence of pure emotion. Quirrel was a man of science (kind of), he’d understand. He just had to go over there and sit down… Which was much easier said than done. Quirrel looked like he was asleep, he probably wouldn’t even notice. It’d be easy. And yet there he sat, staring at the spot he wants to be as if he’d materialise there through sheer force of will. He’s stared down Mantis Queens, a Soul Tyrant, Nosk, that spider lady and a whole bunch of other garbage, he could move his body over a few meters. Right? No, it wasn’t. He just couldn’t get himself to move from point A to point B. It was impossible, why it was impossible was a whole nother beast entirely. What if Quirrel didn’t want him around, or what if he didn’t want him that close. The last time was an accident, kind of. What if he pushed him away? What if he destroys their friendship?
What if it was worth the risk? He thought about it for a few seconds before he finally made his first move. He slowly began to scoot himself over, little by little. Quirrel remained still, probably asleep, unaware of the small knights surreptitious plan. He was half-way there, just a little more. Scooting ever closer to the unaware scholar. He was so close now, he could almost… Wait. Ghost stopped dead in his tracks. A new feeling crawled through him, a feeling that made his very shell quake in distress. It was the distinct feeling of being watched. Quirrel was staring right at him, eyes still half closed from sleep. Ghost had never sat so still in his life, it was like time had stopped and if he moved even an inch it would start up again. Finally he made a move. He moved his head just a little to meet Quirrel’s gaze. As he did so the scholar smiled. Quirrel lifted his arm up and gave Ghost a little nod of encouragement. Ghost’s face lit up in happiness. He hopped up and walked over to Quirrel. He sat down next to the scholar and leaned his head on Quirrel’s chest. In return Quirrel wrapped his arm around the knights waste and held him close. It was perfect. It’s a shame his hypothesis failed in recreating that feeling he had had in the City of Tears, because this felt even better. For the first time in a long time the knight felt truly at peace. They should really do this more often…
Looking back on that moment Ghost hadn't realised how starved he was for affection. Not that it was a necessity or anything, but when you’ve spent your life fighting and cutting with no real purpose you tend to start seeing life in a rather bleak way. Quirrel was a sort of light to that bleakness. Granted he was being a little over dramatic. He had plenty of friends who helped him. He had the Nailmasters, Oro and Mato, the latter of which adopted him apparently. There was also Sheo, the paintmaster, he was nice. Sly the shopkeep and Lemm, Iselda and Cornifer, the stag coach. That old guy in Dirtmouth, Bretta and the Seer, and… And… The more he thought about it the more he realised he was just naming bugs he knew, not necessarily friends. Ghost’s idea of “friend” was quite loose, defined as anyone who does not kill him on sight or is no longer trying to kill him, or even anyone who would talk to him. Man, I really am starved for affection. But no one treated him quite as well as Quirrel did, that’s what made him special. And no one made Ghost feel in such a way as Quirrel did. Though speaking of friends… The ground began to quake underneath him. Down the long dark hallway bellowed the stag beetle. Ghost didn’t really remember hitting the bell, it was like second nature at this point. It mattered little he supposed, he still had a lot of searching to do.
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The trip through Queen’s Garden was uneventful if not depressing. Just about everything was dead. It was rather sad to see the fallen remains of the Mantises, Mantisi(s), even though they were traitors. He also made sure to go give Cloth a proper burial. Quirrel told him about how they used to bury their dead in Hollownest, some kind of pagan tradition or something. It was hard to find a good spot not littered with dead bugs, it felt like he was rubbing it in. Maybe that was his calling, burying the dead. No, that was no sort of life to live, he’d grown to fond of bugs and less fond of the dead. Well dead bodies that is, he’d actually met a lot of dead bugs. Dead ghosts… Alive ghosts? Alive ghosts, dead bugs. He didn’t like to think about it. Anyway it was apparent Quirrel wasn’t here.
He made his way up to Greenpath which was just as lush as ever. One of the only places left in Hollownest that felt like it had any life left in it. Bugs and other creatures still scuttled through the undergrowth, and the foliage seemed to pore from every nook and cranny. That’s not to say there weren’t a few corpses scattered around, some from malnourishment, some from nail slashes. But the lush greenery seemed to mask the pensive nature of it all. A sort of balance between life and death, it was poetic in a sense. He had never even heard of poetry before a few short days ago, it seemed superfluous at the time, but then everything that didn’t cut or slash in some way was considered useless to him at the time. It grew on him eventually, he sort of had to as every message left behind for him was some kind of riddle or poem. Maybe Quirrel could decipher some of them later. Ghost’s mind wandered this way and that while he searched for his friend. It was hard to focus on just finding him, especially as that nauseous feeling kept building up inside of him with each passing empty hall.
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He eventually found himself at the Abandon Crossroads, now more abandoned than ever. Every place he visited was the same. Most of the creatures lay dead, strewn amongst the path. He really had failed to save the kingdom. There was no coming back from this, eventually the undergrowth would spread and reclaim what it had lost. You could already see it happening, the vines from Greenpath had begun to inch their way out of the various cracks and divots That’s good thought Ghost better someone put it to use then let it go to waste. He, once more, passed by the old eroding lifts and roads. Pathways of cobble torn apart with age and perhaps some conflict. He stopped by the black egg. He had sort of hoped to see Hornet, he could have asked her about Quirrel. But she was nowhere to be found. Useless, Ghost thought. Time was quickly catching up to the knight, he’d been searching for a while now with nothing to show. You can’t find the one person you care about, seems like you don’t care enough… Your useless. That was rather harsh, he wasn’t useless, he’d beaten more monsters then he could count. He had gone farther than any vessel before him. He had defeated the Radiance and saved… Well, no one really.
He had been through so much, so much pain, loss, suffering all to “save” a dying kingdom that was doomed the moment he set foot in it. He had nothing to show for it, except for some stupid wings and some pins. And now, he had nobody… He felt sick, like his insides were going to burst out of him. The whole world was coming down around him, he could feel the tremors Uh… This is no way to live. He couldn’t focus on the mission like this, he would never find Quirrel at this rate. If he could just find Quirrel than everything would be alright, everything he had worked for would be for something. All the deaths, all the fighting would be for something. He knew where he had to check next
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Amongst the bubbling Oomas and Uomas lay the teachers archive. The giant round buildings blurry outline could be out just across the plain. The building contrasted everything around it. Compared to the coral and fungus that made up the vegetation, it was almost otherworldly. It was odd really, it sat in the middle of nowhere. Away from any major piece of infrastructure. It’s a wonder they got anything done. That thought process continued as Ghost entered the building. It was chock full of wonders. Vats of liquids piled the sides of the rooms. It was hard to make out the walls through the vats but they were all metal, they looked like copper but with a heavier shimmer. All the vats were labeled but Ghost could make heads or tales of any of it. The problem wasn’t the language, he could read the dialect of Hollownest just fine, the problem was the lack thereof. They were all jumbled and scrambled. They used to have a special tool for deciphering the various liquids, sort of like a code breaker… It seemed excessive. And that was the sort of thing that attracted Quirrel, he loved solving these sorts of puzzles. The last time they’d come here he had had a great time till… Till the end. The Madam’s life is extinguished and with her the seal breaks… It was best to not dwell on it. Returning to the present Ghost realised he’d been standing there, just in the first room. Making his first step was troublesome to say the least, it was like his subconscious was screaming in protest. It didn’t want to enter. Deep down he knew why but he couldn’t face it. That sickness… He ran forward into the depths of the archive. Last time Ghost had gone through the archive he had made a beeline for the center chamber, now he was doing the complete opposite. He had to go room to room, checking every inch of the archive. Almost all the rooms were filled with more tubes, to no one’s surprise. Room after room, through the empty hallways and flooded floors. But no Quirrel. With each passing room that bubbling feeling in his chest rose a little more, like a panic that could spring from him at any second. He has to be here, he has to be. Please. But, to his dismay, he reached the center chamber. He had seen every nook and cranny of this place, and there was no one there. Finally he reached the center of the archive. The giant vat of acid, where Monomon had laid dormant, stood before him.
Ghost looked at Quirrel, he had never seen the scholar so downtrodden and distraught. He had seen him fight in many battles, and through them he never faltered. But now, he looked defeated. This was an unwinnable battle. Quirrel was slouched over against the wall just opposite the tank which held Monoman. The mask had worked, now it was up to the knight to finish her off. Yet he hesitated. Quirrel seemed unaware of this until the knight took a step towards him. “Why do you hesitate? Mercy is a fine thing, but you and her agree this must be done.” Quirrels words were meant to push the small knight forward, but his shaking voice said otherwise. The knight took another step towards him, he was a few meters away now As soon as Quirrel had entered this place his memories began to sifen back. Slowly he began to remember, most of which he didn’t care for. He sunk his head back down. The knight took another step towards him, he was right next to Quirrel now. Ghost lifted the scholars head up with one hand than quickly pressed himself against the scholar, wrapping his arms (as far as they could go) around the scholar. “Little one, I… You... Have to…” He never got to finish that sentence. ‘What are these? Tears?’ The tears were cascading down his mask, Quirrel was crying. He couldn’t say anything, all he could do was hug the knight back. They both, in that moment, knew how this story was supposed to end. The plan, the sacrifice. Quirrel had just found his teacher, only to lose her again. Now he was going to lose his only friend. It hurt too much to think about. Maybe he could just be here, in this moment, a while longer. Ghost didn’t entirely know what Quirrel was going through, but he could still be here for him, if only for a little. They sat there for a while longer. Finally Ghost had to let go and finish what he started. Looking back once more to Quirrel before going forth, Quirrel gave him a small nod. Ghost hit Monomon with the dream nail and was off. When he awoke Quirrel was gone.
The memory gave little comfort to the knight. He felt like he was on the edge of a great cliff overlooking an endless chasm of darkness. It was hopeless. Quirrel wasn’t here, he… No, there’s still much of Hollownest remaining, much of which he’s never been to. I have to keep looking. Ghost thought to himself. He had nothing left to lose. With that he was off to the Howling Cliffs.
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He wasn’t at the Hollowed Cliffs, or the Crystal Peak. He wasn’t at the Royal Waterways or Kingdoms Edge or the Ancient Basin. He had even checked the Resting Grounds and the Hive. For every empty cave and hive, every abandoned hallway and cavern he felt like a little part of him slipped away. Like he was regressing back to a mindless vessel, he was sort of being fixed in a sense. As he ran from place to place, room to room. His legs began to move on their own. He was barely paying attention to where he was going, it all sort of blurred together. On more than one occasion he went curreaning into a pit of spikes, but instincts took over and he narrowly escaped a gruesome death, to Ghosts dismay. Eventually he ended up back at the Blue Lake. Where his life began in a sense, and where it would end.
He sat down by the lake, where he had seen Quirrel last. Next to the embedded nail in the sand. It was still clean and well polished. Quirrel was always one to take good care of his nail, treated it like a child. But eventually it would rust away here in the sand. Explorers who come down to this forsaken civilization in search of treasure and knowledge will find it, perhaps, and wonder what it means. A lost story to the annals of history. Because Quirrel was gone, he couldn’t deny it any longer. Quirrel was gone and he’d never see him again. Maybe Quirrel had left, gone through the Hollowed Cliffs to forget his past once more? Or had he taken his own life? The latter seemed most plausible. In the end it didn’t matter. Ghost was all alone. He was a wreck. He was practically shaking. He couldn’t stand up straight, his legs refused to work and he convulsed on the ground. Black tears rolling down his mask from his hollow eyes. It was all falling apart, all his plans were burning up in a great fireball that would soon engulf his very being. It hurt worse than any nail wound he’d received. It was getting hard to breath between his short shallow breaths. Please, please come back. Quirrel… He pleaded, over and over again in his head, but nothing would come of it.
What’s the point of going on? He had nothing left here, nothing worth holding onto. He laid there on that beach for sometime, wallowing in his own self pity. He had to do something, he couldn’t just lay here and do nothing. It hurt too much to bare, he couldn’t go on. He knew what had to be done. He’d seen the ghosts the Radiance had made of the dead. Maybe, somewhere, there was a place where he and Quirrel could meet again. It was far fetched, but it was the last scrap of hope he could muster. All that was left was to decide how to go about this. He could impale himself on a nail. Perhaps Quirrels, that was sort of poetic in a sense. But also kind of messed up, Quirrel wouldn’t be happy about it, that’s for sure. He could drown himself, though he wasn’t 100% sure he could actually drown. And to be honest he didn’t really want to find out, he had felt like he was suffocating for the last few hours. That really only left the spike pits…
“Ghost?”, a voice came from behind him. One that was all too familiar, one that he thought he had lost forever. He was almost too scared to turn around. Desperation got the better of him as he turned himself around. And there he was, standing before him was Quirrel. He was a little bruised and dirty from some expedition, and he had a new, more worn down nail at his side. But apart from that he was the same old Quirrel he remembered. “Oh, my friend, it is so good to see you I was worried sick!” Quirrel said, an air of relief circled his words. He took a few steps into the cavern. The knight remained still. “When we last spoke I was… Rather shaken up, I knew about the battle you were to have, with the Hollow Knight.” He looked down at the ground and held one of his arms. “I… I didn’t want to intrude on your destiny. And I knew how the battle was going to end. I just couldn’t…” He paused, “I just couldn’t bear to watch that happen. Not after Monomon.” Quirrel said, he looked, Guilty? “But when you left I felt even worse, I abandoned you, in your final struggle. I couldn’t go on like that. So I went off after you. So quick was I to go I forgot I had left my nail here.” He said, giving a half hearted chuckle and patting the nail at his waste. “But I missed it, when I got there I only found Hornet. She filled me in on what had happened.” He said, he paused for a moment, “Oh, and uhhh… I’m sorry about your brother. He was a good man I’m sure.” He had never met the vessel but if he was sure if he shared the same blood, or void, as Ghost he must have been an exemplary citizen.
All the while Quirrel was talking Ghost stood perfectly still. Just watching the scholar. He could hardly believe what was happening. Going from complete and utter dismay and overwhelming sadness to having his wish come true, was rather difficult to process. His mind was a frenzy, he couldn’t think straight. So his emotions took over. Black tears burst from his mask as he sprung up and launched himself at the scholar’s chest. The sudden explosion of emotion from the small knight caught Quirrel off guard and he was thrown to the ground. “Oh, Ghost I… Ghost?” Quirrel looked down at the knight now clutching his chest for dear life. He was shaking like mad and rubbing his tear soaked mask into the scholars chest. Quirrel didn’t fully understand why the small knight was acting this way but he’d do what he could. He hugged the small bug back, rubbing his back and whispering calming words to him. They sat there for a while longer, in each others embrace. He was okay, Quirrel was okay. The world, that had been for the last few hours, breaking apart seemed to be fixing itself. Minute by minute. Yet Quirrel still didn’t quite understand why Ghost was so upset, until.
Ghost, once he had finally calmed down a little, looked up from Quirrel’s chest, up to his mask. And the scholar looked back, when it hit him. “Oh, dear, you… You thought I had…” Once more the knight burst into tears and returned to his comfortable position against Quirrel. “I never meant for this to happen, I’m so sorry…” Now Quirrel was getting choked up, it would seem he had started crying as well. They lost count of how long they had been sitting together, again. Eventually Ghost had calmed down enough to steady his breathing, a few tears berated his mask still. But he couldn’t let go. What if this was just a pleasant dream, or a hallucination, what if let go and Quirrel disappeared again? He couldn’t, not again. Quirrel pushed him back a little, undoing the bind, he looked into the little knights eyes. “Hey look, I’m not going anywhere, I promise, not without you.” Ghost moved up to Quirrel and pressed his mask against the scholars forehead. And Quirrel pressed back.
After a while the two finally broke apart and descended to the beach, sitting back together on the beach shore, watching over the lake. Even though the cave was quite deep underground a faint breeze could be felt wafting over the lake, causing small waves to ripple against the beach. The lake seemed to glow on its own and filled the cavern with a blue hue. It was beautiful. Ghost never noticed as he was often preoccupied with other matters. Finally Quirrel broke the silence (not that Ghost ever could) “Well, uhh… Dear” Thank god for these masks Ghost thought, for some reason that name made him blush. Sort of. He felt the void enter his cheeks but whether they grew red is doubtable. “It is imperative we plan our next move…” He paused for a few seconds, “I was hoping… That we could leave… I m-mean leave Hollownest. For good.” Quirrel said quietly. Quirrel looked at Ghost for a response. The knight simply smiled up at him and nodded. Quirrel’s whole body relaxed, “Thank you, it’s hard to walk Hollownest. All these old memories wafting around every nook and cranny. It’s sad to think about how much I lost. But then again I’m glad in a way, for what I gained.” He said, smiling down at the little knight, and Ghost smiled back before leaning his head against the scholars side. Thank god for these masks Quirrel thought.
Ghost hadn’t been expecting to leave so soon, if he was being honest. Quirrel had told him that the closest town was a good hundred to two hundred miles away give or take a few. He thought collecting supplies for such a journey would take more than a day. Turns out Ghost packed light, not needing to eat really lowered the contents of one's pack. He also took into consideration that he’d have to say goodbye to everyone but, as it turns out, that was also a short trip. There were only a few select bugs he’d actually wanted to say goodbye to. Lemm, who was now having a ball exploring and discovering even if he wouldn’t admit it. He was, for the first Ghost had seen, happy he had found the scholar. Then there was Conifer who, after mapping out all of Hollownest, would also be leaving in the coming days and that, perhaps, they’ll meet again soon. The Stag beetle, who to be honest was probably Ghosts closest friend second only to Quirrel. He had wanted to say goodbye to Hornet, even if they had had a ‘rocky relationship’ and he had killed their brother, he had a feeling she knew. He knew she was keeping an eye on him, to watch him leave, but he pretended he didn’t. And finally the nail masters, who all wished him good luck, (one of them was practically in tears about how he’d finally found someone and how fast he’d grown up but he won’t say who).
Within two days it was time to go. He wasn’t too upset about leaving, if at all. Quirrel wasn’t the only one who would like to forget this place, some bugs never got the chance to forget, and were instead forgotten forever. Atop the Hollowing Cliffs, in the early morning light, he looked back one final time on the eternal kingdom. Soon the remaining inhabitants would scatter and leave, or simply die off. The citys would decay and crumble, the metal trams and elevators would rust away. And the plants would crawl out of every eroded crack. Then Hollownest would be gone. His home would be gone. Forever. Turning around towards the apex of the mountain, where Quirrel stood, patiently waiting for the knight. As he approached the ledge, Quirrel offered the knight his hand. No, my home isn’t gone… Quirrel pulled him up but continued to hold his hand as they looked out over the seemingly endless wasteland. I may have been born here… But that doesn’t make it my home. Quirrel looked down at Ghost and got down on one leg. “You ready to go then dear?” He asked. Ghost gave a curt nod and smiled. Quirrel smiled back, he lifted his mask up and planted a small kiss on the knight. Ghost felt like his heart fluttered out of his chest. Because I’ve found my real home Quirrel chuckled as he watched the night swoon under his gaze. Quirrel stood back up and adjusted his pack. The duo descended the mountain. The winds were harsh and unrelenting at the bottom, spewing dust and sand in their face. Finally he took his first step forward. Ghost wasn’t entirely sure where they were going. But as long as he had Quirrel by his side, it didn’t really matter.