Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This, all of this, began so normally. It was all going well, from the Kings perspective, so well.
The Vessel had completed their training for the day and they and the king were resting on the balcony, overlooking the glowing white gardens below. He looked towards them; and then, they simply looked back. Without prompting, without a command, without previous instructions to respond as such. At first he turned away, dashed out the door and into the halls of the palace, tried to brush it off in his mind. Saying a single little action shouldn't mean anything.
He tried thinking back if maybe he had given them instructions to respond to his gaze like that.
But the panicked king couldn't deny that he hadn't, that that little, simple action, that would mean nothing for most beings, shattered his reality. They had just done something of their own will.

And so he ran back through the halls to face them and… toss them away like the rest? Raise them? Just keep running?
Just as he burst into the room, he saw… nothing? And then he looked down, seeing them, sobbing on the floor staring up at him with worry, knowing their failure to be hollow. Then he quickly realized he had no idea how to comfort them.
"Hey there, uh, vessel, don-don't worry. I'll… your mother! I'll bring you to her!"
And so the king dashed through the halls once more, this time shedding even more grace, attracting the attention of the baffled royal retainers in the process.
"White! Help, they aren't hollow. Please, agh, I don't know, hug them?" he spouted as he burst into the throne room.

The White Lady stared down, baffled at what she'd heard and the tiny black tears falling from the pure ve- no, apparently just vessels face.
"Oh, you poor thing." She cooed as she truly processed what she'd just heard.
"What… what do we do, then?" the root asked as the vessel ran straight towards her, oh, they looked so tired.
"Too many have fallen to the infection, we don't have enough time to make another solution."
the Pale King stated, quivering at his own words.
"The Radiance has… settled in Hallownest, correct? All those in her hivemind are here and unlikely to leave?" the White Lady pondered, mind already racing with thoughts of the lands beyond Hallownest as the vessel slumped against her.
"What do you… no! We've lived here for ages, I've been building up this kingdom here for centuries, we can't simply abandon all our work!" the king shouted.
"What other choice do we have?" the root asked, and at that, the king went silent.
"If you leave Hallownest; your aura, your gift to bugkind comes with. We can flee this land with the remaining inhabitants and find somewhere hospitable beyond the wastelands. We both know they don't go on forever." The root offered, the tiny vessel sitting against her falling asleep.
"As much as I hate to admit it, leaving this place behind appears to be the most beneficial option, how many shall we be taking with us?" the king stated.
"It's rather morbid to say, but since most have fallen to the infection, I believe we can take anyone who's willing to come." the queen reasoned.
"Well then, it's decided. Pack up the essentials, and have Dryya spread the word, I'll get some of our retainers to do the same." the king stated.

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In the City of Tears

The sentry stood shocked at what he'd just heard. He waited so long to see what the Pale Kings
plan was to stop the infection, and now he's gotten word that the plan is apparently just running out of Hallownest?
"Agh, I mean, I will, but I thought with the time he's been working on his plan, that it would stop the infection instead of just fleeing from it?" he stated.
"Yeah, don't know why it took him so long to think of 'run away'." another mentioned.
"Well, I suppose we should start packing. At least we'll see the stars." the first stated.
"Yeah, I've only seen the surface once when I was younger, spent most of my life down here in the city. Could be real nice to finally see it again." the other informed.

The city was in a sort of organized chaos, everyone panicking to pack up what they need, and for some, maybe a 𝘣𝘪𝘵 more.
Cooked Tiktik and canteens were flying from the shelves, bedsheets torn from their mattresses, and nails ripped from their racks.
"Can't leave without this!" yelled a upper class chap as he grabbed his family portrait, the 900 geo piece towering over him.
"Get to Kings Pass, we're leaving to the left of it!" shouted a royal retainer, dashing through the halls of the towers.

"You have everything, right? The sleeping cocoons, tiktiks, edible mushrooms, canteens, water purifiers, nails, lanterns, pencils and paper?" inquired Lurien the Watcher.
"Yes sir." One of his knights answered back.
"And you checked every house to make sure we have everyone?" Lurien asked with clear worry in his voice.
"Yes, every house and workstation, all informed of the evacuation and given an idea of what to bring." the knight responded.
"Everyone, we will be leaving in 5 minutes, get yourselves to the elevator leading to the Eternal Crossroads at once." boomed Lurien over his city.
"What do you think is even beyond the wastes, Lurien?" his butler asked, her mind wondering.
"I'm not sure, but we have our King to guide us and protect us from the mind deteriorating winds of those lands. And we can finally leave the infection behind." Lurien assured.
And so the bittersweet march towards Kings Pass began.

Chapter Text

Dryya was usually described as fierce, the most deadly of the great knights, but that only made Deepnest marginally less terrifying.

Despite feeling eyes glaring at her from every dark corner; she still has a message to deliver and a lance at her side, ready to pierce anything that dared try to stop her. That, along with pale armor covering her chest—known to given only to the most valued of the kings and queens subjects, kept her nerves at bay.

Up ahead; she began to see them, the enormous balls of web tied to the cavern walls. Those that housed weavers along with the beast herself.

Lunging forward over the platforms that led to the central structure; Dryya weaved through the countless strands of web that tied themselves tightly around the beasts den, spiders skittering from her path.

"Well, I expected it would take quite a while longer before the sealing would be started." Herrah the beast remarked from deeper within her den.

"The sealing hasn't started, the Vessel has been found to be impure." Dryya stated flatly, the weight of her words choking the room.

Dryya soon heard the thuds of footsteps as Herrah entered the chamber, and she interrogated "So I and your king's deal is canceled, then?"

"Yes, you do not need to serve as a drea—" Dryya was cut off as Herrah slammed her needle down in front of her, making the floor quake beneath it.

"You walk into my house to tell me that the infection now doesn't have a working cure, and you would take back the deal, try to take Hornet from me?" Herrah boomed.

Dryya stood there, this was… not going well, she barely stopped her hand from going to her lance.

"No, there is no reason to take Hornet back, although I presume the king and queen would like to see her." Dryya clarified.

"Well then, I suppose there isn't need for combat then." Herrah quieted, although without putting away her needle, still clearly defensive of what laid deeper within the den.

"However…" Herrah continued, "what exactly is your great plan for stopping the plague?"

"As he put it, there isn't enough time to stop it. However, if we travel far enough away from Hallownest, where the infected lay, the Radiances power over us would be null." Dryya quoted.

"And I presume that, even if our interactions have been far from positive in the past, he would still continue to grant his gift of higher thought to I and those of Deepnest that come with?" Herrah questioned, pondering the idea.

"Yes, he's kept giving it to you all this time after all, even with our previous conflicts." Dryya reminded.

"Hello, Herrah?" they both heard as a weaverling scuttered into the room.

"Hornet's calling for you again. Oh, greetings, um… Dryya. Mind saying what you're doing here?" the weaverling questioned.

"Yes, it is Dryya, I'm delivering an crucial message to Herrah here." Dryya answered.

"I'll inform you and the others of it in a short time, just know that we may need to relocate soon." Herrah answered the question already bubbling in the weavers mind.

"Now, Dryya" the beast said, turning her attention back to the knight before her, "His plan is far from optimal. However it appears that it could be the only good choice. I will consider it, that will take a scant few hours at the absolute most considering the urgency of it." Herrah stated as she hurried out of the chamber to assist her daughter, shooting a still somewhat wary glance back at her.

"Now that I think about it," Herrah stopped her sprinting, "If the king and queen would like to see her, I suppose you should as well. Report back to them and all that."

"Ah, makes sense." Dryya stated as the two rushed down the hall.

Once Dryya entered the room, she at first saw nothing but a nest of silk and a plush tiktik… until she looked towards the corner, seeing a tiny spiderling with a torn cloak, nibbling mischievously on something.

"Mama! Da—Dwyya?" Hornet called out as she saw the silhouettes enter.

"Hi Hornet! Oh, did you tear up your cloak trying to climb the ceiling again?" Herrah teased.

"Maybe…" Hornet replied, a smirk landing upon her face.

"Here, let me just stitch that back up." stated, amusement and exhaustion clear in her frame.

"Healthy, happy, and a little mischievous." remarked Dryya. Both her and Herrah's laughter echoing throughout the room.

"So… your opinion of the plan?" Dryya inquired.

"Oh, right…" Herrah stiffened.

"As much as I hate to leave this Deepnest behind, we'll still have our people and our culture to build a new one. Not like there's truly a choice in leaving." Herrah said, confirming her decision.

"Mama, what are you talking about?" Hornet questioned.

"We're going to have to leave this home behind; but don't worry, all your friends are coming with us!" Herrah explained, now clutching her daughter against her body.

"Oh." Replied the tiny spiderling, her worry fading at her mother's comment.

"So, it's decided then?" Dryya inquired.

"Yes; for my people, for my daughter, for myself, we're leaving the old Deepnest behind." Herrah affirmed.

"Come to think of it, I never asked when we leave." Herrah noted.

"As soon as we can; we'll be going to Kings Pass, then heading out into the wastelands." Dryya informed.

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Barrett was feeling a bit overwhelmed. If you told him a few years back that he would be a royal retainer, delivering an urgent message to the Queen of the Hive herself, he would have laughed for days.

Even the breathtaking columns and furniture of the hive couldn't stop his mind from racing. There was so much that was happening right now. First the King announced they're going to leave Hallownest for some other land, then he has to deliver the news himself, and then he starts thinking about how he'll leave everything behind, his home, the palace he works, all the places he fondly remembers from childhood.

Pull yourself together Barrett, he told himself, you just need to deliver the message to the queen of the hi—wait… didn't she die a few months back?

"Um, guardian? Who is your current leader? I n-need to deliver a message." he asked one of the massive guardians floating through the hallways.

"Vespa." the guardian stated, seeing the confusion on Barretts face, "Yes, I'm aware she perished. But not even death can stop her from ruling the hive."

Barrett stood shocked for a moment, trying to detect any hint of sarcasm in the guardians words, but there were simply none.

"Greetings retainer. I must ask why you've come here, all the way from your majesty's palace?"

Barrett heard from behind him. Bounding forward and spinning around to see the queen of the hive, or at least her specter.

"Oh, it's just you. S-sorry about that. Regardless, I've come to inform you that there has been a major error in the kings plan to seal away the infection, and we do not have enough time left to fix it." the retainer stated, still not exactly sure what the plan had even been.

"So then, Hallownest will fall, along with the surrounding lands. I didn't expect its end to be so soon, but no kingdom can last in eternal glory." Vespa remarked.

Barrett felt surprised at how resigned to her fate she seemed, although he reminded himself that the fact she was already dead might have had a part to play in it.

"Just because the plan did not work does not mean that is the end for you, or anyone else. We can leave the infection behind by leaving the land behind. Even though the kingdoms are falling, their people don't have to." Barrett continued, "No kingdom can last forever, but a new one can be forged from its ashes." Barrett finished his short speech, surprised at how elegantly he had explained the idea formed in his mind.

Vespa seemed to mull over his words before her face lit up.

"That is a strangely simple solution. We shall leave this land with your king, if only because your nobles would refuse to leave without honey" she joked.

Barrett chuckled at her remark, secretly thinking that she was probably right.

"Although, I do have one condition." Vespa admitted,

"There is a small valley of greenery not far into the wastelands where another colony had previously lived and died. We have never had an opportunity to visit there to pay respects."

"I believe the king would agree to that, since if it's good enough for a colony, it's likely also a good enough place to rest and ease a few of the city bugs into living in the wild." Barrett commented, ecstatic that he could soon leave the infection behind and had succeeded in his mission.

And soon, the hive began to empty as the infections survivors flooded through Kingdoms Edge.

Chapter Text

"Vessel, " the Pale King, his child snapping to attention as they walked through the eternal crossroads, a mob of guards and retainers surrounding the two, "What shall I call you now that your original purpose is void?" he asked, internally laughing at his accidental joke.

The 'hollow' knight pondered for a moment, before looking up at him and just staring, seeming to realize something.

"What? Oh… can you write?" the king inquired, handing them paper and a quill.

"Learned from watch you write. My old name was purpose, new name should be new purpose." they wrote back.

"What is your current purpose then?" he asked, and at that they seemed to think frantically.

"Don't know. Failed old purpose, made everyone leave and feel sorrowful, failed, what do now?"

"Ves—child, please don't blame yourself for not being hollow, you cannot control that." the king quietly reassured, "Honestly, I do not know why I thought could create something both living and hollow, and feel terrible guilt for the attempts I made and threw away."

"Will throw me away?" they questioned.

"No! Just because you could not achieve your old goal does not you cannot find a new one." he told them.

"But then what is new purpose? New goal?" they inquired once more.

The kings mind pondered what their name should be as they continued marching up through Hallownest. Pure? Shade? Soul?

"Wander." he stated, "You're wandering into the wastelands with us and discovering yourself."

"Wander!" they wrote in enthusiastic agreement.

"They look so happy, is that their new name?" Monomon giggled.

"Yes. Greetings Monomon. So you and your assistant finally caught up to the rest of us." he said.

"It's hard when you have to convince each other to not take all of the tablets and scrolls in the Archive with you." she joked.

"Hey, it was mostly you that wanted to do that!" Quirrel yelled, somewhere behind them.

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Even though they haven't encountered any real threats, Dryya still felt on edge.

Maybe it was because it's been so easy, the infected that threatened her group so far had been easy to wipe out.

Speaking of said group, she still thought they were lucky that the low number of guards had managed to protect everyone thus far. It was just her, the White Lady, a large number of civilians, and a single group of city guards.

At least in Deepnest she knew what was putting her so on edge, but here in the Eternal Crossroads, she had no idea.

And she heard it, a scythe blade spinning through the air behind her.

She whipped around and lunged below the projectile, spotting the mantis traitor that had thrown it, its eyes brimming with infection.

As she dashed forward to the other side of the projectile, she leaped and then slammed her lance down into the traitors face before it could strike back. "Attackers! Run!" she screeched as she withdrew her lance, the mantis falling limp to the ground.

She scanned the room, there were a total of 3 other infected mantises that had jumped out from the tunnels around them, and she could hear the tremendous foot falls of something else, most likely the Traitor Lord himself.

Glancing behind her, she saw the guards were forming a rough wall behind the group fleeing towards the chain which led to the town above.

Looking towards her, one of them then screamed "Watch out!"

She spun around, sending a punch square to the chest of the traitor rising their claws behind her. As she drew back her lance to finish the stunned mantis, she heard something slam onto the ground near her, the Traitor Lord himself.

As a traitor fell dead again, the remaining two weaker mantises rushed towards the city guards.

One of the traitors drew close, lunging forward with a flurry of blows in the hopes that a few of them would hit. The second leaped far above them, slamming their claws down and

unfortunately hitting one of the guards, shattering the shell of their head.

As one guard fell, another threw his spear forward through the mantises body; Although it hit, the mantis still landed on its feet and lunged forward, claws outstretched, before being swiftly met with another spear strike.

Then, the Traitor Lord charged forward, launching Dryya to the side and rising his claws above some of the city guards.

As Dryya clumsily fell to the ground, pain overwhelming her body, she looked towards the Traitor Lord, preparing to stab him from the side before he could complete his attack.

One guard quickly plunged his spear into the last weaker traitors head before he, along with several others were thrown across the chamber from the weight of the lords claws.

In the lords charge and attack, although it was successful, he hadn't realized it would give Dryya ample time to get behind him and impale his back.

Stomping back around, the lord prepared to smash his claws down onto a Dryya far too close to him.

Just as she prepared to leap away, she realized just how much her legs had been damaged from the earlier impact with the ground. And she realized with sinking dread that she couldn't run fast enough.

And then that dread cleared when she saw a metallic blur fly towards the mantis, a enormous needle that impaled it. But, even struggling to stand up, much less attack, the mantis still stood as razor sharp threads erupting around him, digging into shell.

"End him!" she heard the beast queen of Deepnest roar from further down the tunnel.

She didn't need to told twice, and with the last of her strength slammed her lance into the Traitor Lords face, finally ending the battle as he fell to the ground.

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"How should we organize the group? Would there be scouting groups, a group that keeps watch as everyone else sleeps, maybe a group that tests different foods to check if they're safe to eat? There's so many possibilities!" Monomon questioned excitedly, continuing to list off more and more ideas.

"Monomon, I ask that you calm down, although those are certainly good questions." the king noted.

"We might as well figure it out now, since we're waiting for the others anyway." Monomon said, a knot forming in the kings stomach as she mentioned why they were still waiting.

"I'm still rather concerned about them, the other portion of Hallownest and Deepnest should be here by now. We shall send scouts." the Pale King stated.

"Good idea. I suppose just the cartographer and a guard or two should work." Monomon replied.

"They could very well be late due to an attack Monomon! Just a guard or two is not enough." the king shouted.

"Sire, someone's climbing up the chain leading into Dirtmouth!" a guard notified.

"Who comes up, Herrah, white?" he called out as the chain rattled.

"Both." he heard a guard yell as one by one, the guards flew out, two carrying their wounded fellow guard.

"We were attacked by infected mantises your majesty, they have all been put to rest, but Brom here and Dryya have been severely injured." they told him.

"Healers!" he called, "Yes, your majesty." they replied as they ran to the injured guard.

Soon the chain shuddered as white roots wrapped around the well, pulling the queen and the stoic knight held in her roots upward.

"White! Good to see you, how injured is Dryya?" he greeted.

"I'm fine…" Dryya stated, the adrenaline not having worn off quite yet.

"Your legs are half broken, but do not fret, we can go without an active knight for a while." the queen reminded as the chain rattled again.

The tunnel up to Dirtmouth filled with the sounds of a shaking chain, the pitter patter of many legs against the walls, and the shouts of nobles demanding to go up first.

Then the chain swayed one last time as the queen of Deepnest climbed onto the surface, tiny spider in her arms and massive needle on her back.

"Everyone, is anyone currently missing or unaccounted for?" the Pale King questioned.

Vespa surveyed her bees from above the charm used to anchor her spirit, seeing that all were accounted for.

Herrah too counted her subjects, her Weaverlings, midwife, her daughter, and a few others.

And the king counted his as well; the city guards all seemed to be here along with the nobles and workers, Ogrim and Dryya were here, although the other great knights were missing or unfortunately lost, Lurien and Monomon were present, Quirrel was teaching Wander how to write more skillfully, the residents of Dirtmouth were accounted for, and a few others—some not part of any particular kingdom—were also in the group.

"Everyone is accounted for. Although we are leaving this land behind, always remember that we still have our own cultures and our own people to keep our kingdoms alive, even when the physical constructions of them have fallen. Now, onwards into the Wastelands!" the Pale King boomed, flying above the crowd below.

Chapter Text

"Pale King" Vespa began, "Are you aware of Pasture Valley? It is an area of greenery not far into the wastelands that I and many of my children would like to visit to honor the bees that once lived there."

"I was not aware of such a place. Truthfully I believed the wastelands themselves to simply be sand and rock. Now, how inconvenient would it be to go there?" the king responded.

"We wouldn't have to turn far from our current path. Besides, it possesses a notable amount of greenery, water, and some wildlife. It is a perfect place to rest for a short while." Vespa explained.

"Well, it is decided then. Cartographer, we will need to make a small change of direction." the king said as the group began turn to where Vespa pointed.

And then the king saw Wander run to him, giddy than usually.

"I can write better now father!" they scribbled with that excitement seen so commonly in children.

"Splendid, I assume Quirrel is acting as your language teacher?" the king asked.

"Yeah, he has been telling me about the things around us too, like the weird grey sand and caves." Wander informed.

"I don't know why some bugs hate sand. It feels really nice when you dig it and pick it up."

Wander explained.

"He also said something about how I should learn 'sign language.' What's that?" they questioned.

"Oh, it is simply a way of communicating with hand gestures. However, your hands currently look more like nubs than real claws, so it would likely be difficult to communicate that way." the king told his child, chuckling under his breath a bit at their tiny nubs.

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To say that Pasture Valley was beautiful would be an understatement; It was a tiny slice of paradise with the sprawling moss, flowing waterfalls, and tiktiks and crawlids scurrying through the undergrowth.

Although they had their immediate needs met, the citizens of Hallownest certainly had a need for answers. Not only about the future, but also of the tiny black grub running to and from the king himself; Were they his child? They just seemed to show up when the group left the kingdom and start following him around. And if they were his child, with whom? Certainly not the queen, considering that both royals had very bright shells, unlike them.

"You could just ask them." one of them pointed out.

"Hey, they are just a grub, if he did have an affair like you folks are gossiping about, should you not go up to him instead and ask?" another teased.

"WHAT? I'm not just going to ask the king himself that." they responded.

"Relax, I am simply jesting. Although, like I said, they are only a child, they should not get caught up in our rumors. Not like they seem one for talking anyway." the other clarified.

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"Mommmm I'm bored." Wander scribbled to their mother a few hours after settling into the valley for the time being.

"Oh, there are plenty of people around here, why don't you learn about something with one of them?" she asked. She both cared about them but also wanted to save at least some of  her free time from their already boundless energy.

"Ok, thanks mom." they wrote as they ran off to take a look around the valley.

"Just be careful, alright." she told them as they rushed through the moss.

They peeked around the area; seeing bugs cooking some tiktiks, some simply resting, and then they saw a big bug, smearing some oily colorful stuff on a big paper. Oh, a new activity! Although they weren't sure what it was exactly, that didn't stop them from dashing over to him, he seemed friendly enough.

"Oh, hello little one." he said as he noticed them at his side.

"What are you doing with the paper?" they asked as they looked at the giant brush he wielded.

"I'm painting, do you not know of it?" he asked, eager to teach another pupil.

"No, but it looks nice." they replied.

"That is the goal, to look nice and usually resemble something real. Do you mind answering why you're writing instead of talking anyway?" Sheo explained.

"I can't speak, but I learned how to write from my dad. He's really cool." they explained.

"Why don't you try to paint? Here, I'll show you." he said as he grabbed a small brush and canvas for them.

A short while later, and Wander found they really liked painting. They already drew themselves and their father. Although they were a bit frustrated with how theirs turned out so much worse than Sheo's, he explained that everyone is bad at things at first.

They were about to toss their painting when Sheo asked what they were doing.

"I should make a better one before I show it to my dad. I want to be really good at it." they explained.

"Oh, that makes sense, but you should show him this one. Even though it isn't very high quality, I think he'll still appreciate that his child made it for him."

"Really?" they asked, giddy at possibly making their father proud.

"Yes, of course. Who is your father, anyways?" he asked.

And at that, they just pointed at their painting.

Sheo was… surprised to say the least, he hadn't heard anything of the king having a child, but he supposed that was his fault for spending so much time alone in Greenpath.

Well he supposed he was a bit proud that he just taught a child—supposedly the king's—how to draw.

"Well, off you go. I might teach you about sculpting lat—" Sheo stopped talking, seeing that they had already ran away through the underbrush.

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"What do you wanna teach me mum?" Hornet asked as she ran up to her mother, having been called for at the same time she's usually taught something new.

"Today I will teach you the very basics of combat with a needle. Here, you'll need this." Stated Herrah as she handed her daughter a small needle, too tightly wrapped in a silk sheath at the moment to be a truly effective weapon.

"First, I have a training dummy for you here to practice your hits on. Remove the sheath, then just stab forward." the queen explained.

"Haha! Dummy!" shouted Hornet as she prepared the small needle and herself for to lunge forwards.

"Try to aim between the stone plates, those are meant to be tough shell." Herrah instructed.

"Why do I need to learn this right now anyway?" the weaverling questioned as she skewered the dummies 'flesh.'

"I don't know what we will face in our journey, but most likely there will be at least a few fights that you'll need to be prepared for." Herrah stated, "And besides, skill in combat is always a good tool to intimidate rivals or assassins."

"Well, next I'll show you how to throw your needle." Herrah mentioned, "Here is some weaver silk rope, pull it through the loop of your needle."

"Next, look to check if there's anyone in the direction you're throwing it that you don't want to hit." Herrah instructed.

"If there is none of the such, just throw it straight forward." Herrah told her daughter as the dummy got skewered again.

"Wow, it reaches so far. Can I swing on it?" Hornet mused.

"Yes, now I'll show you how to retrac—what?" Herrah asked.

"Can I swing on the rope if I put the needle somewhere high up?" Hornet reiterated.

"That's a novel idea Hornet! Here, I'll get it stuck in that rock up there." Herrah stated, both amused and impressed at her daughters idea.

"Yay." squealed the weaverling as she swung through the air, feeling the air rush around her.

"Hornet, you can continue doing that later, but there are still two more things to teach you." Herrah stated, much to the disappointment of her daughter.

"Ok… what are they?" Hornet asked, miffed at her play being stopped so quickly.

"First, I'll gently swing my needle towards yours, raise your needle to block it, then push back." Herrah instructed.

"There, good. This is called parrying. Be aware that it won't work on opponents stronger than you though." Herrah stated as her daughter pushed back her half-hearted swing.

"Finally, even with all of this, you are still small and, at the moment, rather weak. " Herrah reminded, "As such; if someone tries to really hurt you, like this dummy, stab it once in somewhere important and just run away, maybe swing like you did earlier if it helps you go faster."

"Then just keep going until you find one of us, do you promise you'll do that when you cannot defeat an enemy, Hornet?" Herrah asked.

"I promise, mum." Hornet said, slightly miffed that she is still small.

"Alright, well it's getting late and we should both get some sleep now." Herrah said, scooping up her daughter.

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Wander couldn't sleep. It wasn't that they literally couldn't, but there was simply so much buzzing in their mind.

There were going to be new places they would visit, and they might paint more, and see their father so happy with their painting skills again!

But at the same time, there was also the fact that the other bugs might find they are the reason they had to leave, and then they would be angry, and their father would probably be angry at the bugs for being angry. Also, just because this valley was nice, didn't mean the other places ahead would be nice.

So, they—heh—wandered slightly out of the valley and into the sands.

Then, they just started digging through the sand; They had no goal, no true motive for it, it just felt nice to dig through it and shape it.

They had always found making things, manipulating matter like this to be calming, beautifully consistent no matter the circumstances.

Their thoughts were beginning to get dragged away to sleep when they felt one of their nubs rub across something rough and rocky, very unlike the surrounding sands.

And so they looked down, seeing an odd, deep purple piece of rock, and then they were filled with excitement; They could dig it up, give themselves even more digging to do!

But despite their endless fervor, they just kept finding more and more of that stupid rock until they finally began to see a definite shape, that of an odd, slightly warped rectangle.

But with a heavy heart and tired arms, they decided that since it was taking too long, and they still hadn't dug up all of that weird rock, so they would try to sleep for now and find continue in the morning.

Chapter Text

Needless to say, Ogrim was quite surprised waking up to the vessel looking down at him.

"Oh, hello there friend, you quite startled me." he stated, slightly embarrassed at being briefly scared of a child.

Then they started tugging on his arm, trying to drag him to… somewhere? Clearly somewhere they wanted him to see.

After fully waking up, Ogrim followed them to the edge of the valley and was incredulous when he saw a massive hole in the ground, clearly dug out by hand. He only became more baffled when he noticed the large, deep purple rectangular frame within it.

"Did you… did you dig all of this?" he asked, trying to think if he recognized the stone the frame was made from.

They simply nodded in response, and pointed to a piece of the structure still embedded in the sand.

"I suppose it is rather strange, I assume you want me to help uncover the rest of it?" the great knight asked, noting that along with the frame itself, he could see some gray bricks near its base.

Wander replied once more with a simple nod before Ogrim spoke again, "Say, there are bricks near the bottom, don't you think there could be other things around here in the sands? Why don't you dig a bit more around the area?"

As the great knight uncovered the remainder of the main structure, he couldn't help but wonder what its purpose was, an odd frame made of unknown black and purple rock, long ago buried within the sands.

He felt something hit his side and looked down to see the vessel holding a cleanly shaped chunk of metal, somewhat similar in appearance to pale ore and attached with a chain to a sharpened piece of flint.

"So you found this amongst the sands I presume?" Ogrim questioned, Wander confirming his theory.

"You've stumbled across something quite odd, we shall go inform his majesty. Perhaps he will know what to make of it." Ogrim explained, strolling back into the valley.

"I do not believe I have heard of such a variety of rock." informed the king as he neared the newly uncovered structure.

The king suddenly seemed to freeze up as soon as he saw the frame.
"I assume you know I can… sense magic much more easier than others? Even dormant magic." questioned the king as he climbing down the hole, prodding at invisible spells that wrapped around the bizarre sight.

"Yes your majesty, do you sense a lot of it here? Anything worrying?" asked Ogrim as he looked back to the artifact Wander held.

"Yes, it appears to be a dormant portal." answered the wyrm king.

"A what?" Ogrim asked without a clue as to what his highness spoke of.

"A gateway to another dimension, although I can feel that this one most certainly does not connect to either dreams nor nightmares. I have been trying to make one of these things to research the Radiance for decades, and then we just stumble upon a mostly undamaged one in the middle of the wastelands!" shouted the Pale King, letting out the frustration of a dozen failed attempts.

"Do you know what the artifact the vessel found is meant for?" questioned Ogrim.

"First of all, their name is Wander." stated the king, frustration still clear in his tone, "But let me see, it appears to be one of the devices meant for starting a fire. Considering that I can vaguely feel infernal magic from this portal frame, I believe it is meant to activate it. Although of course we shouldn—" the Pale King was cut off by a roaring burst of purple light as Wander immediately did exactly that.

"What in the name of the gods is happening over there?" screeched Herrah, running towards the edge of the valley as a blindingly bright light erupted from the pit.
"Wander activated a gateway to some other dimension and I can't break it!" shouted the king as he threw spell after spell at the frame without even a single crack in its surface.

"Everyone, calm down." shouted Monomon, rushing to stare down at the swirling purple of the gateway as the king finally ran his magic reserves dry.

"Alright? Now, where does it lead to?" the scholar asked.

"It does not lead to dreams nor nightmares, meaning that I know nothing about it." responded the king, trying to see the other side through the foggy blur of purple.

"Has anything come through? Did you detect the presence of any other higher beings on the other side?" she questioned.

"No, and I cannot detect any higher beings in a dimension unless I enter it." responded the king whose eyes darted between Monomon and the portal.

"So why don't you enter it?" she asked in vague amusement.

The king simply stared at her for a moment before screeching "I'M NOT GOING THROUGH A PORTAL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WASTELANDS THAT WE KNOW NOTHING ABOUT."

Monomon floated, privately admitting that she may have been too relaxed about an entirely different dimension and a bit taken aback at his graces reaction.

"I suppose we could send a tiktik or something of the like on a rope and see what happens." she said sheepishly.

"That is an alright idea…" he replied.

"Your majesty, what is happening?" shouted a city guard flying among others, trying to steer clear of the still present beast queen.

"A portal to an unknown dimension was uncovered and someone activated it. And now I cannot deactivate it." stated the king.

"Now, you there. Would you mind getting a rope and a small animal so that we may test the properties of this other dimension?" Monomon asked one of the sentries.

"Sure, Madame." he stated as he handed her a crawlid.

Monomon wrapped a rope around the creature as she gently tossed it through the gateway, hearing a slight squeak as it hit the ground. Judging by the thud it made, it sounded like some sort of stone, possibly the same stone bricks at the base of the structure.

She heard it skitter around the area for a short time, producing more thuds of stone and what sounded like feet smacking against crystal.

She dragged the crawlid back through, examining it to find it was free of any abnormalities.

"Well the crawlid is fine, and considering the temperature of the portal, it seems like wherever it leads isn't that much different temperature wise from here. Or the immediate area is  insulated well." Monomon stated, pondering what the next test would be.

"Well then, I assume your next test is jumping straight to throwing a thinking being in?" the king sighed.

"Yep, would anyone like to volunteer?" the scholar asked.

"I would, considering that others might fall to whatever the dimensions equivalent of tiktiks is." Herrah stated with a slight sneer.

"Well then, go on through and report back I suppose." Monomon said, have nearly forgotten the queen standing at the top of the pit.

"Do you also want a ro—" Monomon inquired, Herrah quickly responding, "No."

After about a minute of anxious waiting, the queen of Deepnest stepped back through.

"It leads onto a large, roofed bridge made of various foreign bricks, clearly set long ago. The particular room possesses a large door and several windows, through which I can see other bridges and a sea of molten rock below, along with a very alien landscape a few hundred feet from the room."
"Define 'alien.'" the king asked.

"It is composed of several layers of red rock, dotted with specks of yellow. Upon the tops of the layers are what appear to be large red fungi, along with several animals."

"What about the door, is there a way to unlock it?" the king asked.

"There is a chain across the front, but otherwise it appears to be unlocked." she responded.

"Well, my opinion has changed, I will enter and try to gather more information about the area."

As the Pale King stepped through, he first checked to see just how physical this dimension was, and found its balance of magic and physicality was just the same as that of the dimension Hallownest resided within, far different from that of dreams.

Stepping across the bright red brick, he looked through the windows, finding himself high above a blazing sea below.

Then he turned his attention to the door. He found it odd that it could be unlatched from this side, but he opened the large, ancient gates regardless, finding himself face to face with an intersection of more doors.

What truly caught his eye however, was the tablet next to the gate directly in front of him, glowing a dim purple in the familiar language shared between higher beings.

First, upon seeing it, he expanded his senses, searching as much as he could around himself, and found only an afterglow of a higher being, but without one truly present.

An 'afterglow' could mean two things, either the being responsible once had great influence over the area, but has since left, or… they are no more.

Turning his attention back to the tablet, he read.

Higher beings, these words are for you alone.

If this tablet holds, then the kingdom of Minecraftia has fallen.

If it now lays barren of higher thought, then I welcome you to claim the lands far ahead as your own.

However, you must be warned, my creations influence already corrupts and chokes the kingdoms life, with my own end closing in, it could only have grown stronger since.

He had never felt both so reassured and so uneasy at the same time, both an invitation to out right take the former land of a higher being, and a ominous warning of something they feared.

Looking ahead, he noticed the next door was closed from the other side, unlike the rest.

Just as he started trying to manually separate the halves of the door, he noticed the area around him, previously dark, was now starting to spark with dots of blue.

Then he saw lines of cyan, crossing in straight angles across the walls and ceiling as lantern after lantern above—previously inactive—started to flicker to life with an eerie blue.

As he turned around to bring others to explore this place, his eyes darted to the rods littering the ground that he had previously paid no mind to, as flames began to engulf them.

Chapter Text

The king stared ahead, watching as the rods on the ground flared to life and began to rise.

Preparing soul daggers, he started to aim as the beings in front of him completed their assembly. The heavy, near mechanical breathing of the blazes filled the room as they… simply floated there, their gazes locked on him.

Surprised, he called out "Hello, are you capable of understanding me?"

They responded by continued to stare at him blankly.

Then he tried to reach out to their minds directly, only to find a mesh of conditions and reactions, just magic and instructions instead of a true mind.

Warily, he approached them; finding that, though being be too close could likely cause burns, they weren't hostile.

Walking by them, he entered through the portal wondering just who could have built these strange, complex constructs.

As the whirling blur of the portal subsided, the king decided that more information must be gathered, since, seeing as the inhabitants of the area advanced far enough to make these massive bridges, either it or the area they lead to must be habitable and the tablet outright invited him to take advantage of that.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon enough, a team was assembled. It consisted of a cartographer, Monomon's apprentice, Lurien, and one of his guards.

"Your objective is simple; travel throughout these bridges and any nearby structures for at least six hours, and find information on where they lead." his majesty stated.

"Will do, your grace." Cornifer stated, already preparing his maps.

"Be aware, there are flaming constructs within the initial room, and likely within other areas. They appear to be non hostile, but do not take any chances." he warned.

Quirrel had to admit, despite the dizziness of stepping through that par-tal or whatever, he was filled with excitement seeing this new dimension. Of course, back in Hallownest there were the realms of dream and nightmare—which seemed to be more connected to reality in Hallownest than anywhere else—but only gods and moths could explore those places while being aware that they were there, unlike him.

Now though, this was entirely new, open for him to explore! There was the mystery of how the molten seas below were keeping their heat, the mystery of how and why the strange constructs that stood sentinel throughout the buildings were made, who built those bridges, and a million other questions racing through his mind!

"No, stay focused", he told himself. Although there were many exciting possibilities, at the same time, that molten sea could kill him, the constructs likely could become hostile, and nobody said the bridges creators would take kindly to them.

Looking ahead, he watched as Cornifer took note of their surroundings, including writing down the icons and arrows drawn onto the walls where several bridges intersected. Quirrel recognized them as being directions to certain areas, but he couldn't recognize what most of the icons represented.

Some of them he could understand, such as waves lapping at a shore, houses, or a pickaxe; However, he also saw some he didn't, such as two scrolls in front of a square behind them and runes flowing into them, or some object that looked similar to his majesty's horns.

Just as they met another intersection, he began to faintly hear something, almost like… rattling?

His eyes darted over as something stomped through the doorway beside them.

He had been prepared to see something unusual, or even terrifying. But those words simply didn't do justice to the shambling, elongated black forms that rushed towards the group.

As they backed up, he had a better look at them. They had the basic structure of a bipedal bug, but everything except for their heads were sickeningly slender and some parts even had sharp protrusions. That wasn't to mention how they seemed to be covered, practically oozing in some deep darkness, how they held their odd, stone nails with complete intent to use them, or how their hasty shambling reminded him all too much of the infected.

Drawing their nail, the watcher knight swung, the weight of their nail dragging them closer to the shambling things as one prepared for their own attack.

Barely staggering out of the attacks way, one of them rushed directly towards the knight, others quick to follow.

Even with the guards lightning fast parrying, they still felt pain as one slashed their shell, oddly not seeming to aim for the seams in between the parts of it, as if they weren't aware that they should.

Lurien focused, feeling the energy within him drain as a burst of light erupted from his eye and towards the aggressors.

Even as one fell, writhing from the intense brightness of soul, they were still overwhelming his knight.

And then, even in the cramped space, they managed to rush pass the knight, running behind those he guarded, preparing their strange nails.

However, it seemed that the horrific beings hadn't expected their main opponent to leap upward and slam down on a number of them, their swords still aimed forward.

The watcher knight unfortunately hadn't noticed the deep cracks in the bricks below them—presumably from years without maintenance—in the heat of battle.

They just barely bounded forward as they felt the bridge below them, and even the tower it was supported by crumble from the force of their attack, plummeting along with the rest of their attackers into the blisteringly hot sea below.

At first they cheered at their enemies defeat and the successful defense of their allies, and then they realized just what that section of the bridge collapsing meant… the rest of their group was behind them further into the bridges, seemingly without a way back to the area they came from.

"I appreciate the protection, but you really just trapped us over here in your haste, none of us can fly you insult to the gods." Lurien spat.

"I just saved your lives, besides, with how many crossroads we've found, you should be able to find your way back." the knight stated, trying to drown the shame of not noticing the huge cracks that ran through that piece of the structure.

"Well, do you want to try and prove that by getting over here? Or do you want to go run back to the king, tell him what you did, and get someone to help us?" the watcher asked.

"I'll do the latter sir. Hopefully you can find something useful in this place." the knight replied, already rushing off back to the portal.

"Well, I suppose we just keep moving forward until we find an crossroads." Cornifer stated, hoping his maps would serve their purpose well.

Soon enough, Lurien thought he saw an intersection ahead, only to get closer and notice that there was only one, small door to the side of the path.

Cautiously, Quirrel nudged open the door, feeling dust coat his face as what looked to be a rest stop revealed itself.

Looking around, he found himself in a relatively spacious room, filled with sleeping bags of a fuzzy, white hair, along with a few empty lanterns, and two other doors.

But what truly caught his eyes was the enormous map pinned to the wall.

"Cornifer, you ought to copy this down!" the scholar squealed as he realized it was a map of the entire series of paths, including icons of both what he presumed to be portals leading to what they were pictures of, and several images of beds, likely showing rest stops.

But before he checked over the map to decide where they might want to investigate later, he entered through the other doors, finding one to be a bathroom and one to be freezingly cold and containing only massive blocks of a blueish, pure ice.

At first he scratched his head at that latter room, but then realized that if it was likely just an unorthodox way of storing water, even if he had no clue how why it was such a solid blue or how it was still frozen.

"Hey, Quirrel, what do you think the icons lead to?" the cartographer asked, already modifying his own map with the new information.

"Portals to what they show, I assume." Quirrel replied.

"Why would you go through a different dimension just to travel?" Cornifer questioned.

"Good point… maybe there's some advantage to it we just aren't seeing?" the scholar pondered.

"Oh! I see a relatively simple path back to the original portal. You know what, I think I'll just take this with me." Cornifer remarked, taking the weathered paper from its place on the wall.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The king was glad to see the watcher knight return through the portal, and less glad to notice only the watcher knight returned.

"Where are the others?" the king asked with a hint of worry beneath the formality.

"They are fine your majesty, but in the process of defending them from some… entities that we met, part of one of the bridges collapsed with me on one side and them on the other." they explained.

"What are these entities exactly?" the king questioned, quickly receiving his response, "They were extremely slender creatures with the basic shape of a bug, but dripping with a strange darkness and rather hostile. They also carried foreign, stone nails."

"Did you at least try diplomacy?" he growled.

"No, they just saw us and immediately attacked, and we responded the same." the knight stated.

"You just killed living, presumably thinking beings on sight? I suppose they did attack first, but still." he interrogated.

"I'm not sure they were… really alive." the knight remarked, eliciting a confused look from their king.

"The way they walked… no, staggered forward and the look of hostility in their eyes bore an eerie resemblance to the infected." the guardian informed.

The Pale King was confused at first and then truly scared of what he had just heard. Not only was there possibly something else in this new area resembling the infection, but also he thought back to how the knight described that they dripped with an strange darkness. He knew that some of his retainers had become overcome with void, especially those who assisted in the experiments making kingsmoulds and wingsmoulds.

At least void could only spread through physical contact, unlike the infection. That meant that if they must live in the same place as these corpses overrun with it, walls and knights—physical things—could protect them.

It also meant that if there were concrete protections, bugs wouldn't be overwhelmed with paranoia, doubt and insomnia, there could be a functioning society even if they had to deal with such an affliction.

Although of course, it would take time to build walls and train more knights. Except that first problem could be solved by simply holing up in ruins, where they could easily patch up old walls instead of making their own.

No, he told himself, you're getting ahead of yourself.

"Um… your majesty?" the guardian stated, the king snapping back to reality.

"Oh, I simply was caught up in plans and ideas. Now, I order that we do send another group just to wait around the initial portal and try to study some finer details of the constructions until the first group gets back." he instructed.

Shortly, a group of sentries and the White Lady had entered through the portal, the guards simply keeping an eye out as the queen extended her roots, trying to sense any other bugs in the area.

It was only an hour or two before she could sense the magic of the mask the teacher had given her apprentice. Soon the rest of the group came running into view of the sentries.

"We have good news and bad news. The bad news is that uh—" Quirrel shouted as the queen noticed dark spots in her senses behind them.

"Hostiles!" he screeched, stumbling through the crowd of sentries.

The queens roots shot further into the halls, feeling slender, sharp beings and twisting around them, constricting them.

Once the three bugs reached their allies, the White Lady dragged the entities back towards her, feeling as their weapons slipped from their grasp.

Looking over them, she called for her beloved wyrm as she noticed that even without weapons they were still trying to attack her.

Quickly rushing onto the scene, he noticed the shambling husks ensnared in her roots.

"Try reaching out to their minds, see if they have one." she stated, not realizing that the latter part of her sentence acted as a painful reminder to the king.

Carefully, the king reached out to their minds and checked what they wer—

"DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY"

He stumbled backward as the words overwhelmed his mind for a short moment. While recovering from the sheer intensity of their 'thoughts,' he heard that distant crackling of flames grow far louder as the blazes near the portal burst forth.

Their flames seemed even brighter than before as orbs of fire and light soared towards the entangled hostiles.

The White Lady began to loosen her roots, giving the constructs access to more areas of the entities to burn.

The things fell limp as their bodies began to sickeningly melt in her roots from the blazes' barrage.

As soon as all of them fell motionless; the blistering heat the blazes emitted seemed to partially cool as they retreated to their posts.

"Are you alright?" Worried, the king as he ran to her.

"The heat didn't bother me much. Also, I think I just realized, to some extent, what those things were." the root stated.

"Do you remember how some bizarre creatures have internal shells made of something called bones?" she continued, "Those beings looked rather similar to those shells, although of course they should not be moving on their own."

"That's possible. They could have originally possessed full bodies, but have decayed to only shell over many years." he pondered.

"Now, Teachers Apprentice, what is the good news?" she asked, turning to face him.

"We found a map of the entire area inside a rest stop. The rest stop also had frozen pure water and sleeping quarters. Judging by the map, there are quite a few more of them." he enlightened.

"Can you hand that map over?" she asked before her eyes scanned the paper, seemingly lighting up at some of the icons.

"So, although its inhabitants have become… those things, it seems this civilizations buildings and even supplies are intact?" she asked, hope filling her eyes.

"Yes, madam. Unfortunately we have not yet been able to investigate the other portals." he stated.

"I think we've found out where our new home should be." she stated.

"What?!" the king stated, "Our citizens as a whole can't deal with those things, especially if they can spread whatever makes them like that."

"A civilization cropped up here, rose to so high a level they forged these massive bridges and made portals between dimensions. If we can make or find fortifications, we can forge the kingdom anew." she pointed out.

"That only works if, assuming it can spread, it only spreads through contact. There has to be a source that started it." he stated.

"They decayed to naught but shell, wyrm. The source very well could have moved on in that time, and besides, even if it did not, settling in the ruins of another kingdom seems to be the only choice other than running the valley dry of its resources or walking endlessly through the wastelands."  She spoke, voice raised, as she continued.

"If we are bringing the whole kingdom through, then where exactly are we going?" he asked.

"Well, let's see." she said, eying the map, "Over here is an icon of plants, nearby are icons of a large body of water and a bar of metal."

"It is a bit difficult to say where we should travel considering all we have to go off of are simple icons, but it seems like a good place to start." she explained.

"Right here through here and then there is the quickest way to that portal; considering how far the scouting group got, it should take a day of travel at most." he stated, starting to agree with his wife.

"How do you plan to activate and deactivate the portals?" she asked.

"Assuming Wander did not lose that artifact, it should be easy to activate them. I assume deactivating them is so that we cannot be followed, that we can truly be safe from the Radiance?" he questioned.

"Yes, and then we can finally have a new place to call home." she stated, hope filling her mind.

"Since activating the portals is done using fire and they work using infernal magic, would it not make sense that extreme cold or water—like the frozen pure water the Teachers Apprentice spoke of—can break them?" he pondered.

"Makes sense, it should cause the spell-work to become dormant." she stated.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Aw, why did I expect this to last?" asked one of the nobles to the air.

Although Pasture Valley was nice enough to feel more like a vacation than part of the journey to a new home, everyone knew that it couldn't last, the animals were already becoming scarce and there simply wasn't enough space for sufficient farming.

Although, going through the gateway to a different dimension and walking through ruins like his majesty announced they would, was not what he expected.

Regardless, he was rather fascinated about the idea of visiting a whole other world and seeing the remnants of a fallen civilization.

Well, considering the state of Hallownest when they left, he supposed he already saw the remnants of a fallen civilization.

Chuckling at a bit at the dark thought, he stared back at the strange gateway that had been opened not far from the valley, watching as the unusual color within swirled in waves.

The citizens had to admit, the Nether was as awe inspiring as it was menacing. Seas of blazing rock rolling far below, massive bridges towering above the landscape, and constructs guarding the halls all added into one otherworldly experience.

Once everyone had crossed through, the king took a chunk of the freezing ice Quirrel had found and instead of a complex ritual, he simply slammed it into the inside of the gateways frame, watching as the swirling purple crackled and vanished in a massive burst of light.

Soon they found themselves hiking through the halls, surrounded on either side by guards with their nails at the ready. They encountered surprisingly few of the creatures that had attacked the scouting group, their own sentries outclassing them in skill.

Throughout the whole journey, the many members of the group watched the others backs: The entire group was surrounded by sentries and occasionally weavers armed with needles, young child helped their few relatives along, and mothers—including the queen—kept their children close.

What she did not know was how much keeping Wander wrapped in her roots was truly helping.

"We're getting rather close to the portal! Just a hundred or so meters!" their cartographer cheered.

The queen let down her child as they walked past more of the floating constructs.

Once Wander and the White Lady were separated though, the blazes were no longer too blinded by her brightness to see the spot of absolute darkness that now stood out to them like a sore thumb.

That darkness, that void, was one they were made to eliminate.

Their flames blazing brighter, they let their first few balls of light whizz through the air.

Wander had been caught off guard, but as the first hit and they felt heat burn their torso, their training took control. They dashed out of the way of the attack and drew themselves further from the crowd that couldn't easily mend their wounds with Soul.

Many snapped to attention when they heard the attack singe the air, some running, and others preparing like the king preparing a spell.

At first the monarch was confused at what had provoked them, then the second barrage of fire blasted towards his child and his spears of soul soared towards those vile constructs.

"What's happening majesty?" Cornifer screeched.

"Doesn't matter, get the others to the portal now." he demanded as a blaze plummeted to the ground, a hole in its head from the spear of light.

As some of the blazes began turning to him, he rushed to Wander, grabbing them as a circular seal flashed into existence in front of them at the kings command.

As heat beat against the seal, light began to coalesce near the blazes, growing brighter until a resounding boom echoed throughout the room as more blazes fell to the ground from the shockwave of the spell.

"Do you still have that, uh, the portal activator?" the king desperately asked as more blazes started to pour in from the surrounding area.

They responded by grabbing from their cloak. The king wondered for a moment just how they kept so much in there before running towards his queen.

"Take them to the portal and activate it! I'll hold off the constructs" he shouted above the crackling of flames as the White Lady began to run down the hall clutching her child.

Even as he felt one of the attacks hit its mark, he kept conjuring more spears, more seals and more shockwaves as an increasing number of blazes filled the room.

The White Lady found the rest of the group at the gateway, frantically trying to activate it.

"Wander, turn it on!" she shouted as she lowered them.

They could hear the mechanic breathing of the constructs growing closer as they tried, tried again, there! The portal flared to life.

They threw themselves through, feeling their body slam into a weathered carpet.

Getting up, they paid no mind to the still standing ruins they were in, simply staggering a few feet away from the portal and laying down, watching as bugs poured through into the building.

As the last few ran in, they could hear more booms, more crackling, and more projectiles flying through the air until finally their father ran in, quickly slamming a chunk of ice into the portal frame.

The gateway went dormant and finally everything went quiet other than the sound of labored breathing.

"Wander?" the king shouted as he looked around before spotting them.

"Are you alright? Can you heal that burn?" he asked with worry.

They responded by focusing their mind, feeling as their torso began to feel normal again.

"Okay, you're… you're okay. I must tend to my own injuries now. Guards, search the area for any danger." he ordered as he began to feel fatigue take him.

After he had healed his burns, he found a nearby carpet of some sort on the floor and simply wrapped himself in it. Quickly finding himself choking on dust, he elected to just sit on the floor and rest for a short while. Yes, that sounded nice, just figure where exactly they all were once he woke up.

Chapter Text

"Where… am I?" The king asked as he awoke. Feeling the rough stone beneath his feet, he looked around, finding himself in the Eternal Crossroads.

He couldn't remember where he should be, but this certainly wasn't it.

The situation continued to grow stranger as he noticed the patches of pitch black rock and foreign architecture—long overhangs and straight angles—uncannily jammed into the Hallownest-made surroundings like a flood of separate memories.

As he began to get his bearings, he noticed how large the cavern he was in was, he noticed those three masks above an arch, and realized where in the Crossroads he was with sinking dread.

Looking back, he saw the Black Egg Temple standing before him, a deep orange crawling out from its windows.

"What… No! I didn't! I didn't!" He shouted, trembling at the sight of veins of orange surrounding the structure.

Rushing forwards, he found himself met with the Dreamers' seal, fully intact despite its apparent failure.

"Wander!" He called out as he threw himself against the door, finding it more fragile than it should be.

At that moment, he felt like that must mean something, something that he wasn't realizing. But he had his own child behind locks in this place, there wasn't time for pondering such trivialities.

Once the now broken pieces of the door flew forward from his force, he hurried into the void black temple, pushing ahead even as he felt its effects starting to drain him.

"Wander!" He screamed out again with growing fear as he entered the central chamber of his own creation.

His gaze snapped upward only to be met with two pale eyes staring back down, suspended in the darkness above.

White. He noted, once again that nagging feeling that he was missing something came back, but he was still in too much of a rush to linger on it.

His hope strengthened as each of the chains anchored to the ground broke apart under the power of his spells.

Limping forward, exhausted from both the rapid spells and the draining aura within the temple, he weakly carved through the last chain with a soul lance.

And yet, he heard nothing hit the ground.

"Wander? I—I'm sorry for putting you in here I just…" He said, his voice faltering as he was met with no reaction other than those same colorless eyes staring at him.

All six, to be specific.

Then he panicked, thought he had put three hopeless vessels in those chains. Even with his memories now clouded with guilt, he still couldn't for the life of him remember putting one, let alone three of them in the temple. And then it finally hit him that whatever was up there couldn't be Wander.

The gears of his mind—attempting to give him some other insight—were cut short when a grotesque roar reverberated throughout the Crossroads, loud enough to be heard for miles.

"Wh—what are you?!" He screamed as the darkness above showed itself to be more living than usual, spilling out onto the floor, eating up any trace of light it could grasp.

A roar echoed throughout his mind a second time as the thing above threw itself towards him, writhing darkness closing in at his feet.

"No. No. No no NO!" He yelled as those eyes finally reached him, and everything, for a moment, fell silent.

"Wyrm?" He heard a familiar voice call, a slight worry in its tone.

"White?" He called, memories of the sleeping and waking worlds still muddied.

"Oh, you just seemed so terrified in your sleep. I put you here, by the way. You shouldn't be sleeping on the floor." She stated as he noticed the dust coated mattress beneath him.

"Thanks." He nearly held back the words of gratitude before remembering that unlike his subjects that he must appear flawlessly correct, flawlessly strong for, this was just his wife.

"What have the scouts found?" He asked.

"Well…"

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After stepping through the labyrinth of different rooms in the foreign ruin—made from rock and odd, sturdy plant stems, along with other strange new materials—the cities sentries found their way outside, only to stagger back from the blazing light.

"W—what is that?" One of them mumbled, terrified at the ball of light high above, glaring down onto the land.

"No! It can't be her! She can't have followed us." Another shouted, running back to the safety of the ruin.

"But she's right there! We need to get out!" The first replied, attracting the attention of the teacher herself.

"Who's here? Answer me!" The scholar shouted as she flew from shelter, being met with her answer as the same light the rest had seen washed over her.
"Now hold on! We must approach this scientifically." She shouted, trying to verbally drag the guards back outside.

"What's scientific about this, she's right here!" Another screeched, falling further back into the structure.

"SHUT UP. I'M THE ONE WHO COLLECTED THE 'REPORTS' FROM THE INFECTED ABOUT SEEING SOMETHING LIKE THIS." She yelled over the panicked whispers of the sentries.

Every whisper and yell, nigh one, ceased.
"Ha. She's got the same way of making people shut up as the rest of the librarians." One whispered, barely audible.

"As I was saying, there are several differences, mainly in the unexpectedly important factor of light color." She explained.

"Every one of them that described seeing her in a form similar to what is above us talked of her furious orange and gold coloration, and how the entire landscape of their dreams would be washed in it. They also mentioned that they would always hear her voice trying to convince her to join her own cause." She continued, "This orbs color actually more closely mirrors our own king, as it and its light are pure white. Also, I cannot be the only one that has noticed it has done absolutely nothing so far."

"So? Are you just going to stand there until your mind is overwhelmed with the blight?" One of the sentries asked, clearly unconvinced.

"Yes, if for no other reason than to prove that it is not dangerous, or at the very least not her." She stated, anger and stubbornness growing in her voice even as one guard tried tugging her back.

Another sighed, exasperated.

"I suppose I'll try and see if your assistant can get you to realize how idiotic this is." They stated, stomping off to go find him.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"They thought the Radiance had followed us, possibly grown stronger. And they didn't wake me up?" He interrupted.

"You've told them to 'not interrupt your slumber for any reason' before." She chided.

"I… I suppose that is a fair point." He stated, holding back his own rebuking.

"As I was saying…"

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I fully agree that it is generally a bad idea, but I agree with her point that we should see if it does anything." Quirrel stated, walking a gentle conversational line between not angering the Teacher or the guards with his words.

"Oh come on, light color shouldn't be something that matters so much." They replied.

"You'd be surprised, most higher beings have a color that is linked with them extremely closely, and their influence, magic, and aura rarely deviate from. The Pale King has a pale white, the Queen an even brighter white, the Radiance an orangish gold, and Unn an acidic green." He informed.

"Well, would you look at that, she's not dead yet. Shocked, I am." The guard stated as they crossed into the light that still reminded him far too much of that which flooded the eyes of the infected.

"I've been sitting here for several minutes and the only thing unusual is a slight warmth, which is to be expected from something this bright." She said, a slight reminder of her previous anger in her voice.

"Also, I've seen a few animals in the distance, we could dissect one and see if it is infected." She suggested.

"Sure. What do they look like? Also we should make sure they are animals, not beings of higher thought." He noted, figuring that if they were, it certainly wouldn't make a good first impression.

"They are quadrupedal, with fluffy white fur covering most of their bodies. They appear to subsist on the moss that covers the ground here." She taught.

"Quirrel, would you mind investigating?" She asked.

"Sure, I'll try to get as more information about the general area as well." He stated, just now starting to take in how foreign the landscape truly was at her mention of it.

Quirrel had always been entranced by Greenpath, a notable splotch of green and wilderness right next to his bustling kingdom. However, it had been small to begin with, and had only gotten smaller with his majesties reign, this place, however… the green only ended at the ocean, and even that seemed at least a mile away. Here it stretched out, bright and vibrant, gently rustling in the occasional breeze.

There was some odd beauty to the overgrown ruins nearby, he could almost see, almost feel what they must have been like in their prime, and yet now they somehow seemed more breathtaking collapsed. He wondered if Hallownest would look like that some day.

Judging by the apparent warehouses and massive variety of strange objects, he could only assume this area had once been a hub of trade, which could explain why one of the gateways in the bridges linked to it.

When he thought about the bridges, he began to think again about the possibility of those strange beings being presumably responsible for this kingdoms ruin. It almost seemed like a eerie mirror to the current state of the original Hallownest, the land claimed for so many years.

A shame, too. This land had a beauty great enough that despite the direct messages of its destruction around him in the form of decayed, ancient buildings, he still felt like he saw only wonders.

He already felt excitement well up in him at all the new things around, especially the abandoned fields of crops. He could write and catalogue about them and help his fellow bugs at the same time if he could figure out how to get the fields in peak condition again.

Speaking of restoration, there was one part of the ruins that was bothering him.

Near the edges of the landmass, a relatively small island, he discovered, was a complete ring of hastily made defenses.

It was mostly fences forged from that same type of rough stem, a bit decayed, but otherwise intact. There were also a few large stone walls, seemingly made and partially patched up over and over throughout the years.

He couldn't help but wonder why exactly this place needed defenses, and the seemingly hurried state of some of them only worried him more.

Eventually he found his true objective, spying one of the fur coated beasts nearby, straying far from its herd.

First he observed them, watched the way they acted, and came to the conclusion that they were mere animals and unlikely to be dangerous on their own.

He didn't particularly like hunting, even if he had gotten used to raw dead animals after doing a dissection or two, but he knew this time it was crucial he examined one and checked it for signs of that terrible blight.

The fact that the creature ran from him when he got near already showed evidence that it wasn't infected, seeing as most of those that were showed extreme aggression.

It was relatively easy taking one down, he even realized that their species were likely farm animals before the area fell considering how shocked they seemed at his attack.

He examined it and confirmed that it was healthy. Well, he wasn't sure what was considered 'healthy' for these animals, considering how alien their shell-less bodies were, but nothing seemed out of place or horrifically orange.

With the orb of light far above practically confirmed to not be the Old Light, he realized that the warmth and light from it could be rather useful. He could certainly get used to it, he figured. Thanks to it, he could see for so much further on the surface than back in Hallownest or the wastes.

Once Quirrel got back and confirmed what she suspected, Monomon was smug to a degree indescribable in words, at first.

That smugness quickly turned to excitement when he handed her the bag of various things he had found in the surrounding area.

So many new things to research and put to use!

The first was a nail, modified with a crescent above the handle and forged from something similar to pale ore. She also noted that it had a faint, clearly mystical shimmer to it.

Some of the others included a rod connected to a long rope, ending in a razor sharp hook, along with several unknown metals and gems.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Intriguing. What is occurring now?" The king asked.
"Everyone is exploring and organizing the area, nice to see how hope is washing over them again after… the infection and all that." The White Lady stated, recalling the enraged glares of the blighted.

"Are you aware where Monomon is? If that weapon is imbued with magic I would like to investigate it." He asked.

"Yes, seems she has claimed some out of the way room downstairs as her quarters." She told.

Walking through the ruined building—now bursting with life once more—he examined the foreign nail, particularly the magic somehow bound directly onto its form

Usually spells flowed through the air in the state of pure soul, but here was one forced to wrap around the blade, something he had never witnessed. As he looked closer, he could see that the spellwork wasn't even pure soul, but rather had some physical component to it, presumably what made it so difficult to pry from  the metal.

He wasn't quite certain what it was meant to accomplish, but he figured he could find that out later. Putting it against his back with his personal dagger, he began to ponder the future of… New Hallownest.

"Really the best you can come up with?" He thought to himself.

Apt names aside, it seemed the basic needs of the populace weren't much of an issue, but there were certainly some problems and plans he needed to work out.

Some of them were more narrow and approachable, such as trying to stop Hallownest and Deepnest bugs from aiming at the others throats. Like the weaver and noble he heard yelling at each other about some misunderstanding or another in a far off area of the structure.

Others were broader and easier to mistakenly slip up on, like making sure that he had an open-mindedness to go with his foresight. The lack of it had admittedly blinded him from how disastrous the vessel plan had been, not even mentioning the countless that were kill—abandone—no, 'unfortunately lost' in his attempts. He told himself that they had simply been discarded due to their failure, no reason to be guilty. But that excuse couldn't wash away the despair creeping through his shell, nor the memories of one vessel after another tumbling down—no! He had to start work on some thing, or try uncovering the history of this place. Yes, that sounded rather engrossing.

It was a fair assumption that the mindless bodies they had encountered on the bridges were either the cause or the effect of whatever felled this kingdom. Considering the eerily familiar looking substance dripping from their jagged carapace and the tablets warning, he inferred that the former ruler must have done something that allowed the void to overtake and spread throughout otherwise biologically normal inhabitants.

So the ruler tampered with void and it led to their kingdoms ruin. This wasn't exactly doing a good job at taking his mind off the vessels.

Regardless, considering he hadn't before seen something like the sphere of light others had seen, it would make sense that it would have been put in the sky to assist in stopping the spread of this issue.

Ah, that must be its origin, constructed by a ruler as a attempt to keep their kingdom from ruin.

"Quite impressive a construction, I must say." He thought to himself, completely unaware of the Suns natural origin.

Speaking of the Sun; he soon found himself under its light, gazing around at the citizens of Hallownest exploring the nearby ruins.

His gaze drifted throughout the area, scanning each structure for anything that else that proved intriguing.

Quickly he noticed a large tower of stone not far in the distance, moss climbing down its walls and strangely shaped windows adorning its sides that went far above any other building in his surroundings.

At first he assumed it to be a simple, if impressively large watchtower, but once he grew closer, he noticed the strangely colored light within, coming from something further back in it.

He was stunned for a moment when he saw the beautiful windows within—made from some colorful, light changing crystal, presumably similar to the windows in the bridges.

Upon a closer inspection, he realized that they were more than simple windows, but rather depictions, art.

Stepping onto some raised platform of stone, he saw that there were four windows, one high above, two to the side, and one much further down. Each except for the bottom window had a shelf in front of it, littered with what he presumed to be old offerings to some greater power.

The highest window depicted that same glowing orb as he saw above, shining its light through a calm blue sky.

The second, to the right and below the first, showed a large ball covered in blues and greens with an empty sky behind it.

The third, to left of the second, portrayed another sphere, this one dotted with pale white and dark grays. The sky behind was filled with tiny dots of light, their brightness eclipsed by the main spheres.

The fourth, at eye level with him, made him stagger back.

Gazing upon the glass, he saw six white eyes, glaring at him from the crystal surface.

He looked away, the eyes within the illustration filling him with some nearly primal fear.

The portrait showed a pitch black entity with the aforementioned eyes, high above a burning city, wreathed in disaster.

The sharp, twisted edges of its body reminded him of the living corpses the group had encountered on the bridges.

What proved without a doubt that the being depicted here should be feared, however, were the long faded protective runes that encircled the piece of art.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The king watched as the orb of light above—ah, he should really give it a name—floated down past the horizon.

He was both worried at the departure of the… luminosity, considering how its light covering the land had been a great assistance. Although, considering it didn't seem to actually impact with the ground, instead going behind it, he assumed it would loop around and show itself once more soon.

With his worries dwindled, he finally had a chance to appreciate how beautiful its retreat was. It casted a wonder of colors, mainly reds and pinks, across the moss he sat on and the ocean close ahead.

He suddenly felt something bump into him. Looking down, he only found Wander, now sitting at his side.

"Hello Wander. Where have you been all this time?" He asked.

"Inside. When the light was brighter, it made me all itchy." They wrote in response.

"That makes sense, hopefully it can't cause you any harm." He said.

"Well, I suppose everyone should be getting to bed now, it's been a dozen or so hours since we all left Pasture Valley." He stated, picking them up and heading back to the large building which housed the portal.

As he left, he could hear many things all around him: The pitter patter of Wander's footsteps, the chatter of his subjects ahead, and subtle splashing of the ocean behind him

Chapter Text

Long ago; where we stand now, there was a great kingdom. One with walls that stood firm, doors to other realms, and atop it all, a king. King Crepusc of Minecraftia.

"Mr. Theo! You know that's just a story, right?" One of the tiny villagers sitting around Theodore called out.

"I was there when the kingdom was functional. Why, I was a young lad myself when a lot of this happened. Besides, even if it wasn't real, I might as well entertain all of you while I have some free time." Theodore replied.

"Now, where was I…"

Minecraftia's king was more powerful than most, highly skilled in magic and a competent leader; as blinded by stubbornness as he could be.

His power, his spells, were great enough suspected him to be something divine, some fourth god. Remember that there were only three gods in the temples in those times, that… cursed thing that now claims the fourth window is not deserving of the title, despite its power.

Despite the disasters that some times fell upon the kingdom, it held strong for many years.

What ended it all, brought it all to ruin, was a single attack on a single trading ship.

You see, another power had been growing alongside Minecraftia, one that called themselves Incurso.

For long; Incurso had conquered the smaller groups that surrounded it, any who gave their skills to its empire were spared, and any others were disposed of.

But as Incurso grew, those smaller nations became fewer and according to some, their eyes started turning to Minecraftia.

But despite Incursos policy of expansion and Minecraftias growing fear, neither could find an excuse for war with a nation that could match their own.

And then it happened: A group of Incursoians robbed a Minecraftian ship of nearly everything it carried. Everyone thought the same thing: That the Incurso government had ordered the attack in order to start a war, and so paranoia and anger rose, and so Minecraftia then declared war before another similar incident could go unpunished.

Now, something you must understand: Both nations, especially Incurso, had always fought smaller nations. To them, war was easy and fast and always brought back treasures and glory.

They did not know of the years-long grinding conflict that this war between Incurso and Minecraftia would become.

As more and more fell to the forces of Incurso, Crepusc searched for something that could end the war once and for all.

And so he made plans to create a being so powerful, so terrifying, and so destructive that Incurso would be forced to surrender to its might.

He gathered lost souls, uncovered ancient skulls, and forged spells of horrific power.

His own lead researcher begged him, warned him that safety tests must be conducted and the soon-to-be entities loyalty confirmed. But the rising death toll halted him, gave him no time for such a seemingly unneeded thing as safety.

Then Crepusc launched a personal invasion into one of Incursos cities, and there he bound the pieces of the Wither together, giving a single order—engrained into its very being, its sole drive for existing—Ḑ̸̧͙̤͉̺̱̘̘̹̦̲̐̈́Ȩ̴̡̧̰͙̖͇̞̩̗̝̋̊̏͂̈͑̽͗͂͜͝S̸̛̪̰͇͂̈́͂̄͋̓̾͆͂̓̈́͠͝T̸̩̣̣͍͇͕̣̘̪̭̦͓̎̀̓̍̿͌̈́̑͝͠͝ͅR̸͓͔̿̎O̴̡̢͎̯̘̰̰̐̈́̔̾͌Y̶̦̏̆̕͝

And with that land cursed with its presence, he fled back into his own kingdom. He heard reports of the destruction it heralded, and of the Incurso governments plea for a treaty.

Then it destroyed that government.

Then it followed a convoy of Minecraftian ships back home.

He realized, far too late, that it would only listen to his initial command. Absolutely nothing would make it deviate from that order.

In one of his final acts, he tried to destroy the construct, only to fail miserably. Even a god couldn't kill it, he was forced to realize.

Then he sent out his final message, stating that he would attempt to restrain it.

What has become of him, we do not know. However, even if the Withers continued influence in the form of the undead is undeniable, none have seen it in an age, suggesting that the king may have, at least partially, succeeded.

I hope whatever restrains he placed on it will last, if he placed any at all.

"Don't you think that's a little dark to be telling to children?" the mayor, Isaac, questioned.

"It's the story of why things are the way they are, why undead creep up into the village at night, why the clerics paint protective runes near images of the blasted thing." Theodore uttered back.

"I understand that, but you didn't need them to know some of those details." the mayor said back with a sigh.

"But it was cool!" a young lass called out, receiving mutters of agreement from the other children huddled around the elder.

"Well. I suppose they have spoken. You win this round, Theo." Isaac stated, a slight chuckle in his voice.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, what's been happening as of late?" Theo, trying to start a conversation as the two walked.

"As for right now, not much. Just the same old bickering about the price of tools and requests that we build a giant wall around the whole village." Isaac replied—slight personal irritation bubbling up at the idea of gathering enough materials to build such a absurdly large structure, despite the benefits—"Although I did hear some worrying gossip at dinner last night. Someone talking about seeing gray figures out in the forest last night. Hopefully that's just a rumor rather than a patrol sighting."

"It's probably nothing. Just someone making up something interesting to balance out how little happens here." Theo stated, sending a glance to one of the golems striding throughout the streets.

"Any progress on reclaiming your old hobby?" Asked Isaac, thinking of the chestplate he had seen in Theos home, branded with the old kingdoms insignia.

"Why yes. Although I've been trying to branch out. I've tried to make a few tools, but I'm still stuck in the ways of armor smithing. Could prove a useful hobby, and make the toolsmith, what's his name… Charlie start charging reasonable prices for his own." He told.

"Yeah, some competition for him could be great for the economy. Hey, look, sun's setting soon. I suppose I'll go give my evening announcements and then everyone can have dinner." He stated, sauntering up the path to the town bell.

    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Now, I've heard rumors being passed around of patrols. Regardless of how true they are, just remember: As so as you hear the bell, just bring yourself and any children inside and barricade your door. The golems should deal with any raiders. Speaking of which, masons, what are the golems current statuses?" Isaac asked, nearing the end of his speech.

"Two of them are in good condition, the last one needs a bit of polish and repairs." One of them informed, pointing to the golem standing sentinel at the edge of the crowd.

"Well then. Ahem, " The crowd went silent. "The Sun soon sets in its warmth, Gaia slumbers, and now it is the Moons turn to fight back the dark. Whichever of you three can hear, I continue to ask for your guidance and protection from the undead and their master for the village of Tres Silvae and any others which lie within this kingdoms ruin. Thank you." The mayor finished his prayer.

With that, the crowd below, resting on benches and tables surrounding the town bell, began to work away at their dinner—gossip, advice, and all other sorts of talk flying throughout the air.

Chapter Text

New Hallownest, as the king had christened it, was being washed away under the wave of slumber. Bugs making themselves at home in the ruins that dotted their new island home.

Except, of course, the guards still held vigil—fervently devoted to king and kingdom.

Standing tall, they held watch—the roaring waves only feet away.

"Are you sure we should be standing so close to such turbulent water? Drowning is far too common even in the city, where the water, you know, stays still." One of them asked another.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying too much attention to the lake. It's just that…" The other trailed off, staring at the clouds above.

"What?" Their companion inquired.

"Can you feel water on you?" They asked, noticing the feeling of tiny droplets of water sliding down their shell, reminding them of their city.

"Now that you mention it, yes. Rather perplexing, considering that we're on the surface."

Just as they began to mentally tug at the mystery of the sudden sky-flood, the sky flashed white with a deafening boom. A few guards just barely caught the sight of arcs of white light screeching through the sky.

"Oh! I wasn't aware such energy could manifest here as well. Fascinating, it's even more intense than those that fill Fog Canyon. If only I could find a way to use that energy…" Monomon was cut off by an panicked noble.

It was nearly half an hour before Monomon had managed to calm down the terrified citizens, informing them that the strike of lightning was likely just a larger equivalent of the arcs of light that periodically filled Fog Canyon.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Now that that's settled, where was I… ah, studying this blade." The king stated, sketching the spiderweb of magic and runes—spellwork made from thin strands of lapis lazuli imbued with pure magic energy—that enwrapped the iron sword.

He noted its slight glow that only seemed to intensify in the darkness of the building he now claimed as his workshop. It almost appeared to be subtly warring with the dark surrounding it.

He could see how the spell stored magic within the blade, unleashing it when triggered in some way, likely when used.

Just as he was about to attempt figuring out how to make his own 'enchantment,' he saw a statuesque bit of white in the corner of his vision.

He still never saw Wander approach before they reached him—so used to them not moving on their own—and it still startled him sometimes.

"Hi father, I'm bored but all the other bugs are slumbering or wanna teach me things that are too new." They scribbled.

"What do you mean too new?" He asked.

"Just want to do something familiar. Can you teach me a new spell?" The child pleaded.

He looked back at his work for a moment. Well, he could save that for later.

The king racked his mind for a moment before he found a spell within his centuries of memory.

Not so long ago he remembered a shaman that worked with Monomon having explained a situational, but powerful spell.

"I'll teach you how to conjure Howling Wraiths." The king stated.

"First try to focus your soul into your mout—uh… your eye sockets I suppose, imagine screaming out, howls echoing and spirits spilling from your body. Don't focus too intensely, however. The more intensely you focus, the louder the howls will be, and we would not want to make the citizens more alarmed than they already are." He instructed.

After several attempts, they managed to let out a shriek, screaming faces bolting from their eyes.

"Do not worry subjects, we are simply practicing a spell." The king stated in response to the coming questions of worry.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ocean ebbed and flowed at the guards feet.

They were tiring now, preparing to soon switch shifts.

And then one of them perked up at the sight of something shining beneath the waves.

Pinpricks of cyan light, dozens… hundreds… no… thousands of pairs of lights in the rolling waters.

That one guard stepped forward, almost entranced by the wonderous sight.

And yet… something felt so terribly wrong about the lights. Something about them seemed uncannily, hateful even.

They finally realized the lights to be eyes when they noticed how they were getting closer.

And yet, they barely had time to dwell on the sight before they felt something tear through the air inches from their shell.

They whirled around to see a trident—now half buried in the sands—gleaming with powerful magic.

Screams and battle cries erupted from the sentries as the rest of them saw those thousands of hateful eyes, slowly dragging themselves onto the shore.

Soon, sentries were pushing forward in mass, hacking away at the corpses staggering onto the beach.

Cries of pain roared out from both sides as drowned bit and grabbed while the warriors stabbed and slashed.

Then, as the guards were reaching the edge of the beach, one felt a powerful grip on his foot, and soon water began filling into his body, pouring through the tiny holes in his shell.

He could feel his mind slipping away and his body beginning to go still as more Drowned grabbed hold of him and pulled him further down into the ocean.

Then his vision went black, blacker than black, and his life faded.

More than a dozen had been dragged beneath the waves before it became clear what was happening.

Even with the total number of sentries in the low hundreds, too many had been dragged below.

"Retreat! We cannot fight them well near the waters." One of the larger guards—a great sentry and sudden de facto leader of the group—ordered.

"What about those who've been dragged down?" One of them called out.

"Take them back if you can, but don't risk your own life and get dragged down as well." The great sentry ordered.

The sentries back away, now with a few dozen feet between them and the water, along with the majority of the Drowned.

Then once again a trident flew, this time striking true.

Just as one sentry was about to take the weapon for themselves and help their mortally wounded brethren, they saw waves of strange light dance around the handle.

Before they knew it, the trident ripped itself from the guards shell and flew back to its wielder unimpeded.

One by one, more tridents flew and the Drowned began to surge forward, aided by the attacks of their most powerful members.

Some of the tridents stood still in the sand or wounds, most, however, flew back again and again to wielders that had walls of fleshy, damp shields between them and the sentries.

The sentries shouts and battle cries had not gone unanswered, as scores of various bugs now neared the beach.

"What are we under attack by?!" A harried-looking pillbug called out.

"Not sure, seems to be risen corpses of natives. Also, get us some of the weavers, now!" The great sentry commanded.

Soon two scores of weavers and the beast herself had emerged, gazing out at the thousands of shambling corpses, hundreds of sentries, and glimmering tridents soaring over it all.

"The weapons they're throwing. They keep returning to their wielders. I need you to bind them, or web them, or whatever the hell you can do to 'em." The great sentry shouted over the growing cacophony of battle cries and screams.

"Also. You, pillbug again. I need you to get me Ogrim, I'm far from a real commander myself." He stated as he started moving closer to the front lines.

Herrah charged forward, eyes darting across the battlefield and the sky above.

Soon, she saw a glimmering purple light streak over the sentries, only a few yards away.

She dashed towards the trident—the weapon being washed in waves of purple light.

The foreign magic upon the weapon began to shine brighter and brighter and it started vibrating, wiggling free from the ground.

In a moment she unleashed a flurry of threads infused with soul, quickly ensnaring the trident and overpowering its loyalty. The weapon tried to return for several more seconds until its magic ran dry, the web sealing it in place.

More threads started whipping and cracking through the air courtesy of the Weavers. Tridents snatched from the air, now laying motionless on the ground.

The Weavers held behind the sentries, catching more and more weapons.

Now it was the Drowneds turn attack those that would dare hide behind other warriors.

A trident surged forward, arcs of light trailing in its wake.

Soon it hit its mark, a bolt of lightning tearing through the sky, searing the Weavers queen.

Herrah growled in frustration and surprise, slightly staggering and readying her needle.

The trident to began to shimmer with that now familiar glow, slowing wrenching itself from the sand.

Silken threads entangled it, yet sparks flew from the trident and soon the bindings were blasted apart a small storm of lightning.

"Kill its wielder!" Herrah commanded.

However, there were still countless corpses between the armies of New Hallownest and the apparent wielder of the sizzling weapon that now returned to their grasp.

Monomon watched an arc of lightning crackle across the sky, heard the shouts of the beast.

She realized how powerful of a weapon it must be, that trident. Its powers over lightning turning it into a force to reckoned with.

Her mind raced, attempting to figure how she could help. There were sentries and Weavers and the beast herself putting themselves in danger out there and the most she could do is mildly zap the enemy.

Except… her own powers might just add to those of the trident if only she could take it, and considering the fact that the Undeads main method of attack is trying to drown their victims—something that would be simply ineffective on her—she had quite the opportunity to do so and thus turn the tide of this battle.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sentries on the left side of New Hallownest were holding relatively well alongside the Weavers. However, the right group was disarray, some fleeing, some fighting and being surrounded, some desperately trying to restore some semblance of order.

The king had noticed this himself, flying a good dozen meters above the ground, gazing across the battlefield.

The right group continued to fall back, tridents soaring through the air and risen corpses dragging one guard after another down into the dark waters.

He needed to act, and fast.

He could send commanders to organize the shattering army, and he could send some of the Weavers to focus their efforts there instead, but if half the Weavers went to that flank, it would leave both sides partially defenseless to the ranged attacks, and sending commanders would take too much time.

He remembered, though, he was a god, he would take down these wielders, these undead affronts to life personally and hopefully grant more than an opening to his army.

He soared through the air, luminescent wings intentionally positioned to reflect his light on the hordes of undead below.

His gaze locked onto the glimmering purple lights that rolled in waves across the foreign weapons. Soon he saw the wielder of one and focused, manifesting a sharp, elegant spear forged of soul.

The spear struck true, impaling the offending Drowned. He soon summoned spear after spear to execute the trident wielders.

Unfortunately, he hadn't accounted for the fact that more drowned could still reclaim the weapons and thus render his efforts rather fruitless.

He also hadn't accounted for just how well his attempt at distraction had worked. Many of the armed Drowned now looked to him, searing hatred for that taunting light boiling behind their hazy eyes.

As he eliminated dozens of Drowned, a trident soared past him, then another, and another—each flying uncomfortably close. He dodged them, one after another, reveling in how easy it seemed.

And then, he felt one of his wings tear open, sparks of magic glistening from the wound.

Before he knew it, he was falling, desperately, reflexively trying to push as hard as he could with his remaining wing.

From across the battle field, Wander looked on in sheer panic. They saw his pale light tumbling down, with little other than hate filled corpses below waiting to greet him.

Their mind faded into sheer alarm and their body and training took over; They ran forward as fast as their nubs could carry them, intermittently teleporting forward, growing ever closer to the falling monarch.

He was managing to slow his fall surprisingly well, practically gliding down as he tried to find a way to escape the hordes below.

But still, New Hallownest had only seen two of the three unique varieties of tridents.

The tides suddenly seemed to ripple as one of the corpses burst from the water at an alarming speed, tearing through the air towards the object of their collective hatred.

Their weapon shined, making it oh so easy to see how it was aimed exactly for the lights heart.

Wander was almost below him now, most of the surrounding Drowned seemingly paying no mind to them—whether it was because of them focusing solely on the king or mistaking Wanders darkness for their own was unclear.

But their father was still too far above, and the riptide wielder closing in too quickly.

They rushed to be in position to grab him once he fell, but they knew that the weapon would—in their mind—certainly kill him.

Besides, they had dashed too far forward at the last moment, now soon to be directly below the risen corpse.

They couldn't save him.

He had done so much for them, created them, nurtured them, freed them of their duty. And they just had to watch his death happen, helplessly.

The agony swelled within them. They felt like if they had a voice, nothing but screams would tear their way out of them.

And then they felt the soul building, responding to their not-meant-to-be mind.

Howls tore their way from their eye sockets, their strange, distorted screams manifesting, reaching just high enough to rip into the Drowned above.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Theodore was tossing and turning, trying to get himself to sleep.

He was still somewhat alarmed at the rumors that had been circulating.

And then he heard it, a horrible shriek, many voices crying out as one.

So close to what he had heard on the day it was put together a kingdom away.

It sounded so far away, yet it was still deafening.

Everyone else, previously asleep, now bolted awake at the horrific noise.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The aquatic zombie tumbled from the air, close to dying—permanently, this time.

They realized that now that with that terrible wielder no longer a threat, they still could save their father. They only needed to clear the area near where he was going to land and then slash their way back to friendly territory.

"Wander?! Get out of here!" the king shouted, noticing the figure running below him.

They shook their head vigorously, and then raised their nail.

One Drowneds head rolled, the others suddenly aware of the danger this pinpoint of familiar darkness posed.

They didn't waste time though, trying to slash in every direction as the Pale King reached solid ground.

There were thousands of Drowned, but there had to only be hundreds in between them and safer ground.

The king realized he had no time to talk with Wander and convince them that he could get out himself.

Part of him knew that he likely couldn't, but that was concealed by pride.

Regardless, Wander could not carve a path through this army alone.

He conjured a lance, this one having more weight, more physicality to it than its predecessors.

He took the lead, impaling corpse after corpse as they tried to claw at and stab him.

Wander was dashing around him, so fast they practically became a protective blur that stabbed or slashed any Drowned that grew too close.

Eventually, with one final attack—a mix of sawblades, lances, and a Wander uncannily eager to put the invaders to rest forever—they broke through the horde, ready to turn the offensive back and finish off the army of undead.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monomon swam incredibly fast—trying to dodge and weave through the reaching limbs and tridents in the water—all in pursuit of the wielder carrying a weapon crackling with miniature arcs of lightning.

Soon, she was upon them. The undead tried to jam their weapon into her, but the prongs missed and the electricity proved futile.

She knew she didn't have much time in this mission, for the undead around her were closing in, packing together tighter and tighter.

She ensnared the wielder in a few tendrils, and felt as the charge within burst out, shocking the risen corpse.

With its old wielder laid to rest, Monomon easily told hold of the crackling weapon and thrashed for the surface of the water. Even with her heavy resistance to electrical attacks, she didn't want to be in the water when she used the channeling trident.

She burst through and then flew above the ocean.

Then she started to focus on the potential energy within the clouds. Each one could become lightning in time.

But she would make all of that energy release now.

She hurled the weapon down onto the head of a Drowned just beneath the waves and could feel the energy of the clouds peaking and then focusing onto the target.

Then the sky boomed with thunder, dozens of arcs of blinding light flashing across it. The current quickly spread through the water, hundreds or perhaps even a few thousand Drowned that had been packed around her now falling limply onto the ocean floor, fully dead.

She couldn't perform such an attack again, having depleted the sky of its coming strikes.

"Good work Madame Monomon!" Ogrim called jovially from near the shore, now leading the sentries, Weavers, and other, newly joined soldiers in battle.

She quickly looked around, noticing what had to be thousands of Drowned now permanently laid to rest, and not just from her own attack.

At both sides of New Hallownest, the undead hordes were thinning immensely.

It wouldn't be long until the battle was won.

And then they could think about what happens after… she supposed.

Chapter Text

Monomon, the Weavers and the sentries were cleaning up what remained of the previously massive Drowned hordes. The teacher in particular was dragging up fallen sentries and bringing them onto the shore—their bodies soaked and bone chillingly cold.

Meanwhile, on the center of the island, four rulers argued under the still dark sky.
"We could not handle another such attack. This battle has been won. However, we could not stand against another." The White Lady contended.
"We do not possess evidence to think such another attack would occur; It appears that all of the risen dead in the area have been truly put to rest. That is not to account for the experience we have now, nor the strength of Hallownest's might, even in such damaged circumstances." The King argued. Even in his love for his wife, he couldn't help but feel some rage bubble up at the idea of waltzing further into this tomb of a kingdom without knowledge nor undeniable reason.
"We'll wait another two dozen hours and see, if we can protect ourselves we go with the Wyrms plan, otherwise your damn idea of pushing further in." The Beast Queen interjected.
"Simply fortify our defenses, it is not difficult, it is a simple and elegant solution." Vespa screeched, her spirit hovered above the charm her subjects used to move their queens spirit.
"We have neither the time nor the resources for full defensive fortifications!" Hallownest's queen responded.
And so the rulers continued to argue…

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Wander listened nervously. They didn't want to hear all the adults—especially their parents—being so mean to each other.
But they caught a few words in the midst of the yelling, something about a scouting group being sent to explore. They loved exploring! They loved when they saw the tears of the city, the machinery of Crystal Peak, the strange and exotic flowers within their mothers garden, they loved the weird bridges they found too, even if they were a little scary.
At first, they thought of asking their father for permission to come along, but when they remembered he was still angry right now, and they didn't want him to be bothered further.
Nooooo, what could they do?
Well… if father was so caught up in the adults yelling at each other thing right now, he probably wouldn't notice if they were gone for a little while. Yes, they would just sneak along like how their little sister always sneaked into the palace kitchen!
It felt… wrong to do something like that without asking him—so many years of only following his will slowly rising to the surface of their mind.
But they would only be gone a little bit. They knew that he might get angry or maybe smother them with concern if he found out, but they were a strong knight that wouldn't get hurt!

They crept through the foreign vegetation that covered the island—slipping through bushes and crawling in the grass.
They kept up their adventure until they saw what they presumed to be the scouting group—their sign language teacher Quirrel, the Watcher, the drawing man who made funny noises with his voice, and what they believed to be the aforementioned man's wife, wielding a extremely long nail in her hand.
The whole situation reminded Wander of how Hornet described hunting, stalking through the undergrowth, growing close and watching without getting too close. But they wouldn't be hurting anything, just being mischievous!
Not far ahead, they saw the crumbling remains of a once grand bridge that connected the island to what they presumed to be the main land, or at least a much larger land mass.
The Watcher carried each of the others over to the opposite side one after another, floating through some unknown method.
Wander lowered their tiny body into the water and began to paddle along the surface—perhaps twenty or thirty meters behind the scouts.

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Quirrel had never seen trees before. He had of course seen wooden supports and flooring all across Hallownest, but the material had always been a import from some distant lands. He now wondered if perhaps this land is the only one that has the foliage, and if so whether Hallownest and Minecraftia had interacted some time in the past, perhaps even in the recent past.
Here the trees grew tall and winding, branches and roots mirroring each other, twisting and blocking out the sky and ground respectively. Strange red bulbs hung from many of the branches, dangling down, shining in the rising Sun.

A groan reverberated through the forest. Iselda quickly snapped her eyes to its direction, spying a shambling corpse walking to somewhere deeper into the forest, seemingly unaware of them.
She checked her target. It appeared to be one of those that had attacked the island, although noticeably drier and more rotted.
She hadn't participated much in the fight at the island, opting to stay back and protect Corny, and as such she hadn't noticed at the time how strangely soft the risen dead seemed. They didn't possess an obvious shell, although she saw flashes of something hard and bright yellow underneath the sagging, dirtied fabrics that covered the being's torso.
Looking further between the trees—through the dark and the light fog—she saw rather corpses limping in the same direction with speed unfitting for their decay. Among the others, three seemed as the one she had first seen, although one appeared to have decayed to nothing but the strange yellowish white pieces that poked through the clothing of it's comrades.

She wasn't the only one to notice those around her though. The corpse she had first seen, the one closest to the group wheeled around—the framework snapping in and out of place in it's body as it did so.
Before it could damage anyone, Iselda impaled the undead without much difficulty. Some fluid—a odd mix between light red and dark blue—poured from the wound.
"The others seem to all moving towards one point, we may have some innocents to save." The Watcher stated as the zombie fell to the ground.

Creeping closer through the forest, the warrior saw 4 more of the undead, along with one that seemed to have rotted away to nothing but the strange yellowish white framework.
Looking further between the trees and the fog, she could make out another two figures, slightly taller than the corpses, though with similar proportions.
One was carrying what looked to be a small crate or barrel, while the other wielded two long-handled blades.

As the undead crept closer, one of the figures—seemingly nervous and unused to combat—slammed one of their axes down into a zombie.
The rotting body tumbled to the ground, a iron axe—glinting in the early morning Sun—stuck in it's torso.
As it hit the forest floor, some cold, emotionless realization seemed to make it's way into the corpses eyes, and it lay still, dead form finally put to rest.

Just as one undead was fell, however, another aimed it's weapon. An arrow pierced the air, grazing one of the fog-figures heads.
Both were backing away now. Their eyes rushed from one of their attackers to another, and to the unfamiliar creatures that they now shared the forest with. A slight bit of hope wormed its way into their minds, that if one of those unfamiliar creatures had struck down of the undead… No, they could still be dangerous, and they still needed to make their way back to their village, to Tres Silvae.

Iselda now ran faster, hurrying to destroy the atrophied archer before it noticed her and turned its foreign projectiles upon her. Range was nearly always an advantage. She learned that the hard way throughout her life.
The skeleton finally realized her presence, but before it could even fully turn, it's back was sliced. What looked to be an unnatural deep blue poured from the bones, although in truth it was a writhing dark speckled with searing cyan spots.

Shifting her gaze across the forest-turned-battlefield, Iselda spotted one zombie still intent upon chasing the villagers. The other two, however, had turned her and now drew uncomfortably close.
She darted forward, plunging her nail into one of them. She lifted and swung her weapon, flinging one zombie towards the other.
They fell to the ground in a tangled heap. There was still two problems, however.
The first was that the second zombie was still very much alive, and it's clawing arm stretched far too close to her exposed abdomen.
The other was her nail was still in the first, whose weight now jammed it into the dirt
As hard as she tried, she couldn't get her nail out from under the corpse, she couldn't take the risk to herself or others of running away without it, and trying to punch the clawing, biting corpse would end in disaster.
If it did bite her, would she turn too…?

She had become so focused on the battle that she didn't notice the little shadow that ran from in-between the trees until they slashed through the zombies that troubled her.
She spotted the last zombie put to rest where the strange… child had come from?
What she was looking at was a child, the one that seemed to always be trailing the king, out in the middle of the forest.

The two villagers—lumberjacks both—were now sprinting further down the trail. The sight of an warrior covered in shell—like the spiders that that tormented civilization for as long as anyone could remember—cutting down undead with the strength of a Vindicator cut a terrifying image.
That wasn't even to mention the tiny shadow that had assisted her. The way that it seemed to suck up and destroy the light around it… no, it must have been a trick of the light. The alternative, that there was at least one similar to that horrible god, was too terrifying of an idea to regard as anything but paranoia.
In their haste fueled by panic, however, one of them felt the small crate they held slip from their hand. It wasn't worth to go back for it. It only had some apples, a few lumberjacks tools, and… what was that other thing? They doubted it was anything important.

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Quirrel sat upon a log, mulling over all that had just happened.
For a first encounter between civilizations, it didn't go too well. Between the fact that they seemed to believe Iselda would attack them next, and the total lack of actually speaking to one another, he imagined they had made a bad impression.
Now that he thought about it, could they have spoken to each other? There was no reassurance that they spoke the same language, although oddly many travelers that came to Hallownest from other lands spoke a similar enough language to communicate. It was one of the greatest academic mysteries, that so many tongues seemed to have derived from one singular ancient one, even though trying to find the answer yielded few clues.

Before the group had decided to rest here, Quirrel had noticed a small crate that one of the foreigners had dropped in their hurry. Inside he had found some of the red bulbs that hung from the trees nearby, some of what looked to be cutting tools, and a map.
The map in particular caught his interest, especially considering the illustration of dozens of buildings near its center, surrounded by four distinct green regions. One of the regions looked to represent the forest they were currently in, another seemed to be forest of a somewhat different shade, the third yet another forest—this one colored far darker—and the final region was wide and clear of any features other than moss and lakes.

Aside from the battle, first contact, and the map, the Hollow Knight had shown up, having apparently been following them. He had been informed of them and even seen them a few times thanks to his position of being second only to Monomon in assisting with the creation of the vessels, although many of Hallownests citizens didn't even know of their existence, much less having seen them.

Iselda and Cornifier were talking to them now, dumbstruck as the child informed them of their heritage. They had heard whispers of the little shadow, but none had received answers when they asked about them.
"Shouldn't we be bringing you back? Regardless of your parentage, you are still only a child." Cornifier asked.
"I can fight the monsters! You don't have to worry." They wrote back
"Do either of your parents know you're here?" He questioned further.
He took the fact that Wander didn't respond as a no.

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Dozens of villagers crowded around the bell that lay at the heart of Tres Silvae, Theo and Isaac looming over the gathering.
"Is everyone accounted for?" Isaac called out, worry present in each word.
"All but two of the lumberjacks who had went to the cabin in the woods." One of the other villagers responded.
"Call it morbid, but I doubt they'll be returning, we can start the discussion now." Theo stated, the worry in his tone hidden.
"We have much to discuss and prepare for, there are the rumors of Incursoian Patrols nearby, a massive storm of lightning that occurred in the direction of the open ocean, and a shriek emanating from approximately the same direction." The mayor reminded.
"The most worrying is the shriek, the sheer volume combined with the sound itself… it reminds far too much of that noise that the dark god let out when it was unleashed upon this kingdom." Theo stated, his facade of calmness starting to falter.
Then the fact that the sound came from the direction of the sea was truly processed by the crowd.
The Wither was largely thought to be at the old capital, as the dark fog was extremely thick and the undead swarmed even thicker.
The ocean and the capital were in opposite directions from Tres Silvae.
That meant one of two things: Either that the Wither had gone around them without them noticing what-so-ever, or that there was something else—something similar to that dark god—in the direction of the sea.

"Will we prepare to defend, or to flee, Theo?" One of the villagers called out.
"Well, Isaac is the mayor, so the decision is up to him. However, I would suggest fleeing, perhaps trying to find one of the other villages that remain of the kingdom." Theo answered.
"We do not know if the noise was from the Wither itself or not, nor whether the entity responsible intends to attack us directly. For now, fortify the walls, make sure the golems are in the best shape they can be, and send out a pair of scouts everyday. Perhaps consider becoming familiar with defending yourselves." Isaac instructed.
"I will go out to the walls and make certain that they will be able to hold as I am quite familiar with how the walls of the kingdom were made before the fall. If undead arrive, I will hold them off." Theo informed.

Just as the meeting as being dismissed, two figures bolted into the village, exhausted from their long sprint.
One of the two lumberjacks rushed to Theo.
"We've made it back unharmed sir. Although there were potentially dangerous… creatures in the woods. We haven't seen anything like them before, although they appear sapient and insect like in body." The wood worker told.
Theo considered his memories for a moment before replying,
"I have never heard of such sapient bugs, not in my own time or the bestiaries of old. Are you certain your eyes weren't playing tricks on you?"
"I'm sure of what I saw, he can back me up." He pointed to his fellow worker, "Most wielded weapons, and all… five I believe seemed distinct species."
"The authors of those bestiaries searched the world far and wide, I doubt that they would have missed such unique species." Theo retorted.
"Are saying he's lying? Like he said, I saw them too!" The other lumberjack yelled.
"That doesn't… hey, I thought you were carrying some supplies from the cabin back here?" Theo asked, mind wandering.
"Oh, I dropped them on the way near the bug people. Wasn't worth carrying." They answered.
"Wasn't one of the objects in there a map back to here?" The elder asked.
"Yes…" the lumberjack responded.
"You left the bug people, or whatever they are, a map to this village?" Theo asked, rage and worry warring within him.

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"Where is Wander?" The White Lady asked, suddenly cutting herself off mid-argument.
"Has anyone seen them since around the time we started arguing?" She continued, yelling across the island.
The argument between the rulers suddenly dropped, anger being overtaken by concern.
The king and his queen searched over the island, finding no Wander.
"Did you just let your child sneak off to gods-knows-where?!" Herrah asked, a mix of concern and anger permeating her tone.
"There's no need to yell. Although it's not for pleasant reasons, Wander doesn't usually go off on their own without asking or telling someone." The King stated.
"The only possibilities are either that they're asleep somewhere on this island and the yelling hasn't roused them, or that they went to the main land. If the latter is true, then the scouting group would have the best chance of finding them." The White Lady deduced.

Chapter Text

Book and Quill

Producer: Maxwell's Writing Supplies at 18112011, Solis Occasum, Minecraftia

Owner: Theo

Page 1:

I don't think we're allowed to do things like this on watch duty, but it's not like anything's been happening here anyway. The general probably won't notice. Plus, if enemy ships get close, It's not like this is do distracting that I wouldn't see them.

You're probably wondering about my situation, you lifeless book, or maybe a historian? Perhaps you found this on my corpse?

Ah, but enough rambling, let me fill you in. I'm stationed at watch duty on the eastern Minecraftian coast. General keeps saying that Incursoian warships are gonna arrive any day now, packed to the brim with Ravagers and archers and those spell casting lunatics.

Seems he hasn't got the memo that the only ships engaging in this war are scouting and messenger ships, practically all of the bloodshed's happening on dry land.

Speaking of said violence…

I'm not sure what to write about it. So many talks of an Incursoian ship raiding some defenseless port, or our king slighting some Incursoian Evoker enough that a war was declared, or some other unrelated rumor are floating around that I have no clue what to believe.

There is one thing I can agree on everyone with, however. This bloodshed has got to end soon. Make the mistake of asking your fellow guard about their family and he'll rattle off how many he's lost to this war.

They keep saying that we'll win soon, that we just have to give one final push. But they've said that… what… at least four times now. However, there is one bit of hope that I do have that this will soon truly be over.

People have been talking—lots of 'em, even some high ranking fellows—about a project our king's workin' on. A construct, made not from iron or snow or anything like that, but from much darker things, much more atrocious things. The only ingredient we can agree on is souls.

As awful of a being these rumors talk about, it gives me hope. They say that it will be strong enough to force the Incursoians to surrender, to finally bring an end to this whole thing.

Ironic, that such an horrific idea would bring me so much quiet hope.

By the name of Crepusc, I just heard  oh Sun and Moon and Stars above

I just heard some awful screech, sounded like it was coming from Incurso. I would prepare to fight considering how close it sounded but… everyone I've asked—no matter where they were—seemed to have heard it just as loud. A horrible, slowly rising howl that sounded like it had undertones of thousands of screaming souls.

…

…

Maybe those rumors have quite some truth to them.

Page 2:

I haven't written in this for a while. Been far so busy fighting for me and others lives.

So yeah, rumors were true. Some horrible soul amalgamation called the Wither got unleashed onto Incurso. I originally celebrated, morbidly joyful that this war would certainly end now that we had such a being wreaking havoc on them. But there are two things that stop from doing that anymore, that crawl through my mind and plague it with guilt for daring to feel such things.

The first is that the Wither does not just attack directly. It's spreading something awful through the Overworld. No matter who its victim turns out to be—civilian, warrior, noble, whatever—it not only kills them no matter if they're innocent or not, it won't even let them die. They fall dead and then rise back with a savage bloodlust. The only saving grace is most of them get smitten by the Sun's holy light. Just another way it blesses us.

The second is that the Incursoians aren't the only ones being affected. Of course, that's not to say it would be wonderful even if they were the only ones, suffering is still suffering and civilians are still civilians. However, it found Minecraftia and we found it had no more problem rampaging through our cities than it did Incursos.

It isn't all doom and gloom though. I've been searching what feels like half the damn continent for survivors and we've assembled a little community in the village I grew up in. Place has been rundown and abandoned for a long while, but it's far more remote than what seem to be the Withers preferred targets and it's hidden on three sides by various types of forest. I don't think the 'undead' as we've started calling them nor any Incursoian soldiers will find us here, nestled away in greenery and what remains of this little village.

The place isn't too far from here. I just came over to see if how many useful supplies there were that I could carry back.

Even with the kingdom practically collapsed, I'm slowly finding… peace? Whatever it is that this little community I've gathered gives me.

It's strange, feeling such a thing when most of the population is dead through one way or another, and when the cities you used to visit as a kid are crumbling to ruins.

But still, I feel like I can start anew back in my old village. Leave my horrible memories and thoughts behind.

Would probably help to make that more literal by leaving this old book behind.

Well, if someone stumbles across this one day, I hope you got something out of it. Information? Maybe enjoyment? Whatever the case, I've got to be heading home now, the Sun's sinking and soon the Moon will have to try to protect us from that… thing.

Monomon laid the journal down. She hadn't been able to entirely understand it. Quite a few words, sayings and proper nouns proved foreign, but the underlying structure of the language remained the same.

At the very least she now understood the source of this kingdoms plague, and some knowledge of it's inhabitants. Also, assuming that the journal—made of an, rough material that somehow felt like silk—wasn't too old, it seemed that there would be little language barrier between them and those natives.

"Teacher? The royals are asking if anyone has seen a small, dark child. Only this tall, with a cloak and horns with two notches." a guard stated as he burst into the study.

Ah, the Hollow Kni-er… Wander probably let their curiosity get the better of them again. She hadn't interacted with them for quite a while and let the guard know as such.

She admitted mentally that although she was a bit concerned, the matter certainly didn't affect her personally now that her fate and theirs weren't so closely linked.

Her trust in the King and Queen had… diminished, all this journey, every hardship along the way and every home abandoned because they took so long to notice their vessel's impurity. She held no ill will for Wander themselves, it wasn't their fault that they couldn't live up to their parents and dreamers expectations. Her opinion of the royals was still somewhat soured, though.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Quirrel weighed his options. He could head back now and return the child but come back relatively empty handed, or he could follow said child's suggestion of following the map they'd gotten and getting further information. Besides, considering that Wander requested it, the king probably wouldn't be too angry about the situation.

He could find himself in trouble but… he simply couldn't say no to the tiny face and wide, curious eyes of a child overdue their childhood.

"Shouldn't we return them to his light?" The Watcher asked.

"They requested it, and besides, it wouldn't be a good scouting mission if we didn't gather some information about this civilization." Quirrel replied.

"A child's request barely means anything when it goes against what the king would likely want. No offense, prince." Lurien countered.

"You have a point, but it means more when they've been deprived of these opportunities for so long." Quirrel chatted.

"Very well. We should get going and stalk some other civilization now." Lurien said, a faint chuckle falling from him.

And so the group walked onwards, Iselda and the tiny armed child at the front, dark oak and birch and oak mixing as they moved further into the forests.

           -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mikey hadn't been so scared in a long time. So many things had happened, some monster kept screaming during the night and now everyone was so scared that they had to leave.

The worst part was that leaving meant he had to walk. Augh, why couldn't they just stay in their houses and not do anything until it was nice and safe again.

Instead, they had to walk through the plains just after waking up, all bundled up in one big crowd slowly making their way forward.

At least he had some fun earlier. When all the adults were talking about the scary things, he and all his friends managed to sneak off and play hide and seek.

He found Minnie and Abby and… he didn't find Juliet.

Well, she's probably walking beside her parents now.

Probably...