Chapter Text
Being underground (or in that ‘ruin’ as Elderbug likes to put it) can make anyone feel dead on their feet. The Knight arose from the brightly lit well, Grimmchild right on their tail; compared to the dreary caverns below, Dirtmouth was mundane, but at least it was safe. There are no Moss Knights hiding in ambush, nor are there Belflys ready to descend to their deaths onto any unsuspecting creatures. There are no putrid Bluggsacs blighting the air with their rancidity, and the sound of scampering Tiktiks is nowhere to be heard. Grimmchild yipped and yipped, attempting to draw the Knight’s attention from the road ahead. The poor thing was tired, having just concluded a fierce battle with an eldritch foe named Nosk, who attempted to lure the Knight to their demise in their lair. The tiny snake-like creature beside the Knight incessantly squalled, finally letting up when his keeper glanced at him questioningly. Before the child could alert his companion as to what was unsettling them, Elder Bug strode towards the Knight’s direction and greeted them as he usually did.
“Why not take a moment to rest on the bench?” Elderbug suggested, “you look as if you could use some respite.”
The old bug was right in that ‘things’ were much simpler aboveground; though an infection was on the rise, a few remaining occupants of the town of Dirtmouth were fortunate enough to bypass it. Turmoil breached the far corners of Hallownest, and true emptiness made its home away from those who did not remember the land’s history.
Aboveground though, the townsfolk were able to cling onto the last pieces of the fading kingdom--and they could form some semblance of community.
The Knight sat down on the black bench, his diminutive partner not too far behind. Although the Grimmchild was still attempting to get their attention, the Knight was focused on Elderbug, who expressed a bit of dissatisfaction at the enormous red tents which enveloped the west side of Dirtmouth. Grimmchild made his way in between Elderbug and the Knight, beckoning the latter to look upwards. When they looked up towards the sky, the Knight could see the mist that hung overhead--as well as faint cloud covering--but they saw nothing particularly remarkable. Whatever Grimmchild saw, the Knight did not see. The snake-like creature made a noise of disappointment, and he floated to nestle himself in front of his keeper’s stubby little legs.
“It’s beautiful today, wouldn’t you say so?” Elderbug asked the Knight, who could only look up at him in silence. They could not speak, but Elderbug liked to converse with the fellow anyway--they made good company. It seems Grimmchild had piqued the curiosity of the old bug as well, as he moved his gaze towards the dark sky. However, all the elder saw was the shade that covered Dirtmouth like a blanket. Grimmchild leaped up, scuttling across the air before pointing his tail skywards. “What perturbs you, small one? Your friend is right here in one piece,” said Elderbug worriedly. Indeed, the Knight was there, sitting on the black bench and fixing their charms of battle. There were several of them that the Knight alternated between, utilizing the ones best fit for their situation. At the mention of his name, the Knight stopped what he was doing and glanced up at Elderbug and Grimmchild. Grimmchild darted forward and went to nuzzle his keeper, using his long body to partially coil himself around the Knight’s slight figure; being unable to speak, the Knight expressed his affections by petting the little creature’s head.
“What are we looking at here, Elder?” said Sly; the shopkeeper in the large rotund house in Dirtmouth went unnoticed when he came out from inside the store. Sly came out just in time to see Elderbug looking up at the sky, and he wondered just what was so noteworthy.
“Oh, Sly,” Elderbug mused, gesturing towards Grimmchild. “I don’t know, this child with our little friend seems bothered by something up there.”
“But there’s nothing,” replied Sly, “nothing discernable at least.”
“Is that something over there?” Elderbug questioned.
“No no, I think that’s just a cloud,” Sly affirmed. “Look, it’s even moving.”
“How about that, Sly? It looks a bit strange.”
“No no! I think that’s just your vision playing tricks on you. But what about that?”
“That’s just the light from the street lamp emanating. It might look unusual because you are short,” Elderbug added.
“Hmph! I think the child has wasted our time,” Sly said bemused. At the accusing remark, Grimmchild let out a small cry, clearly miffed at the exchange that took place between the elder and Sly. When the Knight arose from his spot on the bench, they gave one last glaring look at Elderbug and Sly, before they switched their focus again to the seemingly empty sky. The Knight then marched towards the Stag Station--an objective clearly in mind--and Grimmchild was right on their tail. The little creature danced around the Knight, excited to see his partner up and running.
“Do return soon,” Elderbug told the journeying Knight.
“Indeed!” Sly agreed.
After the Knight and his child disappeared into the Stag Station, Sly bid Elderbug a goodbye before returning back to his lodging as well.
Elderbug wasn’t sure if he was too old, or the Grimmchild was too young, but he could not shake the feeling that there was indeed something looming over their heads, something more to Dirtmouth’s sky than meets the eye.
What Grimmchild had observed that day was the barely perceptible twinkling of an object far off in the universe, beyond the land of Hallownest and certainly beyond the fading Dirtmouth--but nobody had noticed quite yet. Whatever it was, it was certainly more interesting than the constant murmuring of the bushes or the eerie graveyard to the further side of town.