Chapter Text
Ghost was a name they'd taken up not too long into their time in Hallownest. They'd been bound by so much determination that when someone nearby didn't immediately attack them, they were met with ignorance. A ghost, Elderbug had claimed, he thought that he'd seen a ghost. What a pleasant name, one with meaning. Even if it hadn't been directly assigned to them, and they were not able to tell anyone else, it settled in their mind as part of their identity. What they really were had been lost to them. All they knew was a call to bring them to this place was still pulling them forth. Two different callings, both of them equally as propelling.
The first wanted for Ghost to descend down into the deepest, darkest part of Hallownest. Something called with open arms, wanting for them to return. It wasn't such a demanding call, but it was loud and pressed through themselves constantly - especially after death. Rest, did they not want to rest? Ghost knew that they could rest, only after they finished the first and more demanding calling. A temple that they had briefly wandered into during their first trek into the Forgotten Crossroads, but did not enter. They stared at the doorway and knew that they would return here, as well.
The first call, Ghost had learned, was the Abyss. A vast ocean of void beneath the entirety of Hallownest. It had surprised them, with how they almost felt welcomed. Almost was a key word, for nearly every inch of the void loathed the Kings Brand that was blazed onto them. Not physically, but their being in and of itself radiated with that mark. Eventually they'd returned to the Abyss a second time from the word of the White Lady, confronting the means of their birth. Their siblings floated by passively then, and their Shade no longer used their own nail to strike Ghost down.
Their hands gently rubbed their face, made of bone. Or was it chitin? They weren't certain. It was a rough material and it easily took a beating if blows came to blows. Ghost was fairly certain that, at the time, their shell could take nine blows without the interference of soul before darkness erupted from them and split their face into two. Ghost didn't mind, really. It kept their Geo safe from harm, and normally was easy to find. They weren't sure why they were the only one in all of Hallownest that woke up from death, sitting on a marginally comfortable bench. Did it matter? Only somewhat, it settled in the back of their mind and didn't bother budging without any decent evidence.
Ghost didn't want to face today. They really would rather entice one of the fantasies that had been birthed in their mind during their time in the City of Tears. Bugs had to eat, did they not? Ghost had dreamed about setting up a place to eat, likely in Dirtmouth. What would they serve? That was for later thoughts to think through. Ghost would rather spend hours of time collecting wood and tools to build a food stand than do what was required of them today. Demanded of them, really. They hated it, but they weren't allowed to hate. They were hollow after all, and being hollow meant they couldn't hate anything. They were pretty sure they could dedicate quite a large portion of their nonexistent hate towards not being able to create a food stand in Dirtmouth.
They slowly stood up from the bench, looking at the lumafly lanterns that fluttered nearby. Today was the day - not that they really noticed the passage of days when they were crawling deep underground within Hallownest. Instead, they settled for claiming that the next few hours would be the solution to all their problems. Every single problem, hopefully, resolved at once and in one fell swoop. They had been called to Hallownest by the Abyss, by their siblings, both restrained and fluidly moving throughout the Abyss. They heard roars as they'd struck down the three Dreamers, they'd seen the infection grow brighter and stronger near the surface, threatening to burst forth. Ghost had to do something, and now would be the time. The second calling would be resolved today, right here, right now.
Descending down the well, they land with a hard thud. Wings bustle beneath their cloak, the shadows that have replaced the presence of mothwing curling neatly around them. A mantis claw hidden underneath, and the crystal heart tucked away as well. They'd worked hard to reach this point. They had to succeed now, or they would die trying. Not that Ghost had any reason to fear death. It wasn't pleasant, by any means, but ever since they'd descended into the Abyss and faced the means of their birth, they knew that it was more a minor inconvenience than an actual danger. They'd died in various and equally perilous ways on their journey. This death, if there were to be one, would simply be another to drop onto the steadily growing pile.
Their thoughts swirl as they enter the Temple of the Black Egg, thoughts that were nonexistent just as their hatred was because they were hollow through and through. They are mighty surprised to see Hornet standing there, not even bothering to turn her head to face them as they approach. They walk past her, gazing at the vibrant orange light that pours from the opening. Ghost remembers their first time entering the Temple, the first time that they met Quirrel. They remember the last, too, but they can't think about that. They need to think hollowing thoughts, that they are absent, fully empty, that there is nothing within them. They are hollow, there is nothing to think about other than the task they have been called to complete.
That's a lie, technically, since they have so much Geo that they're never going to get to spend, and their wings are never going to grow to full size, and they were never going to truly realize how powerful their Pure Nail was which would mean the Nailsmith's death was in vain, and they would never get to host that funeral for Myla, and- "I'm impressed, Little Ghost," Hornet interrupts their spiraling thoughts, causing for their head to turn towards her. "You've burdened yourself with the fate of this world, yet you still stand strong. To break the Dreamer's seals would alone be considered an impossible task, but to accept that void inside yourself, that casts you as something rather exceptional."
One of Hornet's hands raise, gesturing to the doorway. "The path is opened. One way or another an end awaits inside." A pause, her gaze fixating into the orange tinted darkness that remained within the Black Egg. Her tone swiftly grows firm, harsh, far more in line with how she normally spoke towards them. "I won't be joining you in this. That space is built to sustain your likes. Its bindings would drain me were I to join. Don't be surprised. I'll not risk my own life in your attempt, though if the moment presents I'll aid as I'm able." Her needle absently is shown, presenting itself to Ghost.
They really, really wish that they could talk. They wanted to tell Hornet that they had this, that they didn't have this, that they were ready, that they weren't ready. They turned to head inside before their thoughts could grow rampant once again. They were hollow, they had no thoughts, they had no will, no mind. They were fulfilling their destiny. Forced onto them, really. Ghost had no way to complain, no way to say that it was not fair. The darkness was almost welcoming, but the orange glow left them unnerved. They strolled forward until they reached something close enough to a bench. They settled, folding their hands beneath their cloak.
This was it. This was the end. They were going to save Hallownest from the infection. They were going to stop the problem at the source. They fiddled with their charms, not sure what sort of fight would be at hand - or a fight at all. They wish they'd taken the time to find all the charms throughout the lands. Only three remained absent from their collection, but it was something that they never would be able to do once this deed was completed. If the Hollow Knight had been sealed, Ghost supposed they would be as well. But there were no new Dreamers waiting in the wings, were there? Ghost would've thought they'd heard of such plans. All the more reason for them to be fully assured that they were hollow. They settle with a build, standing up again. Orange globs of pure disease center a doorway. The time had come.
Suspended high in the air was the Hollow Knight. From the angle that they were looking at, they really looked more like a cocoon than an actual vessel other than the other's gleaming cracked shell that mirrored their own, reflecting the orange light in the room. Ghost really wanted to change the memorial in the City of Tears to be the 'Almost Hollow Knight', but that would require thought, which they did not have. Ghost was hollow, they were the real hollowed one, and they would save Hallownest through their own sacrifice. The chains nearby glistened brightly, and a few strikes of their nail caused them to shatter and disappear. One by one, Ghost dispatched the chains. Lowering their nail once the last chain was broken, they felt confusion flood them - another thing that Ghost did not have because they were fully hollow. Then, they became very aware of the heavy thud that sounded behind them, and slowly they turned back to the center of the room. The Hollow Knight broke free of the last few chains that wrapped around them.
The most painful screech they'd ever heard erupted from the other, taller void being. A shudder passed through Ghost as they braced themself against the sheer power behind the cry. They didn't know what sort of tactics the Hollow Knight had. Training? Ghost hadn't been trained until they'd met the three Nailmasters, or at least there had been no other training that they could remember. They find themselves immediately falling prey to a counter, getting struck down their shell from the other's longer and more powerful nail when they go for the first blow. They wince, dashing away. A Shade Spirit launches from their body, slamming into their opponent with the distance gained from their dash. The Hollow Knight continued onward, unphased by the use of focused soul, swinging several times at Ghost. A flap of Ghost's budding wings throw them over the Hollow Knight's head. They downstrike off their opponent's larger and far more cracked shell, and are then slammed by a stabbing motion as the taller void creature charges forward once they touch the ground.
Ghost stumbles their way through the battle. Descending Dark is their saving grace, as the darkness protects them from the Hollow Knight's nail for a few crucial seconds with each usage. A roar sounds again from the other, the third? The second? Ghost isn't certain. They are completely and utterly baffled, despite the fact that they had no mind to think because they were hollow, when the other began stabbing themself through with their own nail. Orange liquid spills out from behind the Hollow Knight, cascading down the nearby wall. Their grip on their nail tightens, watching the Hollow Knight collapse onto their knees. They stride forward, watching. It was unnerving to watch, but Ghost was not unnerved because they were totally hollow.
The Hollow Knight stood up once again, and orange goop began to fly out of their chest. Ghost dashed through one of the pulsing blobs, delivering a few more quick slashes to their opponent. Now they knew where to strike - right through the other's chest. When the taller void being jumps, Ghost catches them with an Abyss Shriek. They really aren't sure how that works since they have no mouth to scream - which they will be irritated with at another time - but it works wonders. It does not keep the Hollow Knight from crashing down on top of them. First, the other's longer nail impales their smaller body. Pillars of void and infection fused light rise up from the floor, and Ghost finds themself being caught in a geyser of sheer pain.
Ghost manages to struggle into a stand. The Hollow Knight pauses briefly, allowing them time to see how badly injured they already were from just a few minutes of combat. They don't have much longer to concentrate on such things, as an opening makes itself known as the Hollow Knight began to stab themself through the chest again. It is gruesome, and grotesque, but they have to take advantage of the opening because they are hollow and cannot feel any pity. There is no pity, there is no emotion, there is just being hollow and that was that. After all, they had no mind to be disgusted with, no thoughts to complain about how horrifying this whole ordeal was. Their adversary rises up into the air, and the orange goop in their chest swells profusely. Ghost winces as another roar sounds, and the infection splatters around them. Nimbly they dodge and get close, once again unleashing an Abyss Shirek.
Down the Hollow Knight collapses, once again on their knees. Slowly they rise into a stand, and begin to cry out once more. Ghost stumbles away, preparing to focus their soul to heal themselves in a moment where there was no nail slamming through their form, healing from the complete beating they just took. How many more blows could they have taken? Ghost isn't certain, and they are brought out of thoughts that they definitely don't have. They hear a familiar noise, one that they were not expecting at all. A needle flies from the doorway that Ghost could have sworn was closed with a spell of binding, the needle embedding itself into the Hollow Knight's shell. Ghost takes a step back as Hornet flies into the room, silk tying up the Hollow Knight and keeping them bound onto their knees. The Hollow Knight's head was lowered to the perfect striking range.
Ghost slowly shuffles forward, rearing back, and unleashes a Great Slash onto the Hollow Knight's shell. The strike went downward, leaving a giant mark against the other's face. Writhing in pain, the Hollow Knight frees themself from Hornet's silk bindings. She grunts and collapses a few paces away. Something told Ghost that they were not supposed to do that, that the move they'd just performed was incorrect on ten thousand and eighty three different levels. They were rushing in the moment, struggling, as again the Hollow Knight brings their nail onto Ghost. The strike hurts and lands true, and Ghost can feel their own shell struggling against the damage they'd received. The healing they had done prior was for naught, and Ghost is made aware that void is leaking through their body. There isn't much more that they can take. The Hollow Knight jumps back, and one last Shade Soul does the trick. Orange goop explodes forth from the Hollow Knight as they wail, struggling against the ground in a manner similar to all great foes Ghost has faced on their journey.
They focus the last of their remaining soul to heal. Ghost can't help but notice that the orange gas flowing from the Hollow Knight drafts towards them as they do so. They feel prompted to continue, focusing soul, dragging the orange light into themself. Down into their void the light goes, continues going, until the light in the room is gone.
Their shell explodes with complete and utter pain. The roar is loud, struggling in the sea of void that constitutes themself. They stagger briefly, head slowly raising up. They feel their form trembling, but they focus entirely on shoving the infection down. Down, down, and deeper down. They are one with the void, it is unified at their call. They continue shoving, the pain in their head receding. They hear the noise of chains, the burn of magic, but they are focusing and cannot allow themself a moment of distraction. The voidheart probably had something to do with it, but they didn't have the time or brainpower to deviate from focusing as if their life depended on it. Technically it did, as it felt like their head was attempting to break open like a chest filled with Geo. They focus, they keep focusing until their head is stilled and the light has been devoured by the darkness within.
If they had eyes, they'd likely blind. Around them rest several chains, clearly supposed to be wrapped around them. Ghost was no where near the Hollow Knight's size, and to them it seemed as if they'd fallen right through them as they'd tried to hoist the new vessel onto the ceiling. They shake their head and focus again, healing the last of the residual damage from the fight. There was no more orange goop around, but there was something far more worrisome.
Hornet was laying on the ground, still. Hadn't she said that this place would drain her? Panic fills them, and they frantically rush over. They feel weak from their struggle against the infection, but they know good and well that it is gone. They shake her profusely, trying to force her to awaken. She was going to die, too, wasn't she? They couldn't let that happen. They grab her and hoist most of her over their head, saddled between their horns. A crystal dash is prepared, sending them flying out of the room. Ghost briefly was thankful that Hornet didn't go flying off their head the moment they began moving, and rather grateful that she was lighter than she looked.
The exit to the Black Egg was sealed, and Ghost had to stop before they crashed into the newly placed door. How was it sealed? Did someone already have a new Dreamer in the wings, ready to swoop in the moment that the infection was contained? Ghost was fairly certain they'd ran this thought through before, a thought that they shouldn't have because they were hollow. They'd think about it later, except they wouldn't because they were hollow, taking a few paces to close the distance between themself and the door. They did not have as much soul left as they would - and they immediately realize they should have saved it all for trying to destroy this door rather than heal themselves. There weren't even any enemies on their way to the well or to the hot springs that could really cause them enough damage to crack open like a ripened melon. They hadn't been on the brink of death! How stupid they had been for doing that!
They shoved away that anger, reminding themself that Hornet was currently being drained away by the Black Egg to probably die sometime in the near future, likely a few minutes if they didn't hurry up. Hopefully there was no seal of binding on the door - and if there was, hopefully it had just been applied to the outside. It had to be hastily made after all, since Ghost didn't think they'd spent too long shoving the infection into the void contained within themself. They slid Hornet off their head, and moved closer to their latest opponent: architecture. Rapidly they strike at the door, hearing their Pure Nail clink against the stone. They wished they had a mouth to scream out a profanity or two. That would make them feel way better.
They lift their head, eyeing the rest of the door. They grab their mantis claw from beneath their cloak, and begin to clamber up the side of the door. If they were careful, they could probably wedge their nail through a weakened part of the wall and pry the door open that way. The seal. Whatever it was, Ghost didn't have the time or mental energy to think about it. They shouldn't even be thinking in the first place. They don't have time to think about not thinking and so they settle for wedging their nail in the door and performing a Descending Dark to yank the nail down. The nail didn't give, the door did, and Ghost immediately realized the door was likely going to crush Hornet.
Ghost lands and grabs one of Hornet's horns, yanking her out of the way of the door falling inward just in time. The debris crumbles, the door breaking into several larger pieces. They give themselves a small shake to free themself of the dust, pulling her onto their head and striding forth from the Black Egg. That had been one incredibly hearty afternoon. Eyes turn to where infection used to seep throughout the temple. Now there was silence, and the orange tendrils steadily withering away.
Ghost wished they could breathe a sigh of relief, but they had no mouth to sigh with. They carefully shuffle their cloak, retrieving their map. The nearest hot spring wasn't too far. Hot springs solved almost all problems except for infection, and so they figured they should give it a go. They prepare another crystal dash, adjust where Hornet awkwardly sits on their head, and blasted off. They flew over the head of a nearby tiktik, which seemed to be currently in the midst of struggling back to awareness. With the infection gone, Ghost could only hope no massive vengeflies would be swooping down from the ceiling to nail them in the head. A glance was given to the well that marked the entrance to Hallownest from Dirtmouth. Hot spring first, a hot spring was far more likely to heal the both of them. Ghost could settle for a bench, but Hornet could not.
Next was something that Ghost had always called an elevator shaft despite there clearly being no elevator within it. What sort of room was it? They didn't know. They never had a word to use to describe such a thing. How about a giant room with lots of dangling platforms that reminded them of a place in the City of Tears that was far more annoying because of all lance sentries fluttering about that nailed them every time they tried to make a jump. If they had a dictionary, perhaps later they could spend time searching for the correct term for the room hat they currently were dropping down through. More important matters were presenting themselves, such as Hornet maybe possibly most likely being dead. The rest of the sprint to the hot spring was a blur to Ghost. Their nail hadn't needed to be used, which they were quite grateful for. Dropping Hornet into the hot spring, Ghost then turned to the next most important task at hand.
The bench in the hot spring cave was missing. They charged through the water with a dash, staring at the legs that remained stuck to the ground. Someone, very clearly, had ripped the bench free of its legs and made off with it. As if Hornet possibly being dead wasn't bad enough! This had been one of their favorite benches! One of the first benches that they'd ever encountered, gone, as if it was nothing more than a souvenir. Irritation that should not exist just as their hate and thoughts did not prickled through them as they stomped back to the warm waters where their sibling rested.
If they had a mouth, Ghost was very certain that bubbles would be forming as they sunk back down into the hot spring. They finally reached over to help Hornet sit up so her face wasn't sinking down into the healing properties of the pearly colored water. They fiddled with their hands, brandishing their nail to spin the pearly colored water. Sometimes Ghost liked to think that the hot spring was soup. It was childish thinking, but it helped to ease their nerves during this time of crisis. It was laughable, how easily it compared to their procrastination thoughts of opening a food stand. They watched the water bubble and spin around from their influence. What was equally childish was stealing a bench. How did someone make off with an entire bench? They had absolutely no clues, but were certain that they could find the culprit soon enough.
Hornet coughed, jerking Ghost's attention up from the pearly colored water. She wheezed, and shook her head rapidly. Warm water was sent flying, Ghost raising their cloak to protect themself from the spray. "Where are- what," their sibling stammered, slowly trying to stand up. Her legs trembled and crumpled beneath her, Ghost paddling over to keep her head from crashing underneath the waves again. "How are you... never mind, how are we here right now? Did you carry me all this way?"
Ghost nodded their head. It was nice when people asked them questions with only two possible answers. 'Yes' and 'no' were two answers Ghost could easily give with a nod or shake of their head. Directions were also easy, and they brandished their map while shimmying closer to Hornet. They decided to ignore her stiffening up with their closer presence. Ghost traced their hand along the path they took, and then tapped the pin that marked the hot spring they were currently in.
"I don't suppose you can explain how we managed to escape the Black Egg," Hornet realized once Ghost had finished their demonstration. A sigh came from their sibling as Ghost shook their head. "Well. I suppose a thank you is in order." Her head turns, looking out the tunnel that led to the hot spring. "And the infection is.... gone? Just like that?"
Hornet slowly scratched her head while Ghost nodded, thumping a hand against their chest. They supposed she found it hard to believe, seeing as currently the both of them were outside of the temple where only the combined strength of it and the Hollow Knight had even managed to keep it at bay. But there was something important now that they had to address. They raised their hands, beginning to gesture wildly at where the bench had previously been located. Hornet stared at them in a manner they took as incredulous, her head lowering a little. "The bench? Yes, I'm pretty sure there was a bench here before. What about it?"
Ghost, in addition to a mouth, wished they had a way to be more expressive. They grabbed both sides of their head in exasperation, shaking their head once their hands lowered. They made more erratic gestures to where the bench had once been, sending the water of the hot spring flying. Hornet raised her own hand to pull her cloak in front of her face, shielding herself from Ghost's fitful dance. "Okay, okay. Calm down, please, you're making everything spin." For Hornet, Ghost decided, they would settle their rage. They were too busy settling to remember their mantra about not having thoughts because they were hollow, with their attention devoted to current activities that weighed with far more importance.
Hornet rubbed her shell slowly, another sigh escaping her. "All of my years protecting these lands, and you are by far the most absurd and bizarre creature to grace it. Much more, save it," she muses. Ghost sits back down, sending another splash Hornet's way. "You do realize," Hornet then begins, "that this makes you the new king of Hallownest. You have the mark and, technically, you are the Pale King's child."
If Ghost's eyes could widen within their shell, they probably would. They'd seen the Relic Seeker do such a few times when they dropped in ten wanderer's journals at the same time, demanding enough Geo so they could walk all the way back to Dirtmouth for a lantern. They thought it was a neat looking expression, and it would certainly fit the situation at hand. Ghost was pretty certain they did not want to be king, and they rapidly shook their head. "No? Really? You have the King's Brand. You're the new ruler of Hallownest," Hornet insists.
Ghost jabbed a hand into their chest again. They were a vessel, they were born to die. They probably should have died a long time ago, and many, many times over the course of their time in Hallownest. How they were still alive in the present left them baffled. Their Shade burst from their shell whenever it cracked open, and they would wake up on the closest bench. Hence the absolute fit they needed to have over the bench nearby being gone! They slapped their hands against the water again, fitfully squirming once more. They had no way to communicate with their sibling, no way at all. Maybe they could learn now that the looming threat of the infection was gone.
Hornet shook her head, before her shell turned to glance around her. Ghost found themself mighty happy that she seemed to drop the topic of succession of the kingdom for the time being. The question that rose up next was yet another one that Ghost had no way to answer. "What happened to the Hollow Knight?"
That was not a 'yes' or 'no' question and they really wanted to be irritated that Hornet kept throwing these questions their way when they couldn't actually give a response. Ghost had no way to explain that the other had seemingly disappeared when the infection was focused into their void. They shuffled their cloak so that they could shrug their shoulders, before a hand raised to thoughtfully rub the bottom of their shell. The Hollow Knight was a creature of the void, just like them, surely. They perked up as an idea came to mind, and threw themself back onto their feet.
"The Abyss?" Hornet says slowly, looking at where Ghost was feverishly pointing at their map. "That would make sense, if their Shade is anything remotely as resilient as your own," she replies. "Leave me to rest, ghost of Hallownest. Aiding you against the Hollow Knight has left me drained. I'll join you once I am able." She settled down into the hot spring, head leaning back as the warmth and healing properties of the spring undid the harm of the Black Egg. Ghost began hopping around, pulling their map out once again to begin planning their path. Their shell had already healed from the conflict, they were filled with soul, ready to go.
Tucking away their map once their route through the Fungal Wastes, Royal Waterways, and Ancient Basin were planned thoroughly, Ghost turned their attention to the tunnel that led away from the hot spring. They shuffled out of the water and squeezed their cloak free of any remaining liquid. They slowly put their nail back where it belonged, hoping that fighting would no longer be needed. The infection was gone, sealed within them. Their quest was over. As they walked, they found themselves using the peace to check themselves over. The void within them laid undisturbed. The infection, in its entirety, was gone. Within them was the void, pure. Perhaps Ghost had the voidheart charm to thank, for unifying the void within them to overpower the blinding light of dreams - even if they were hollow, and couldn't thank something, much less a charm that was better at lacking a mind than Ghost was themself. They watched as a few baldurs roll around, ignoring Ghost as they trekked past, continuing to scramble around the Crossroads that were now reclaimed from the infection.
With no hazards in sight and their their mantis claw in hand, Ghost dropped down into the Fungal Wastes.