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There was no kingdom to go back to.
There were only a few things that they were able to remember. An aching headache and a scream of a dying god, the crash of their own body against the hard stone, their sister who was now grown dragging them through the now ruined Crossroads. They didn’t know how long they had been fighting, how long they had been containing Her, but now seeing their sister- see how she had become the protector of a dead kingdom and was no longer the small bug who would that could easily balance herself on the palms of their hands… It has been too long.
The kingdom is dead, there was no inheritance.
Elderbug turned a blind eye as they ransacked an abandoned house, only muttering how there was so much activity. While they never knew of the town before their time imprisoned, there were quite a few bugs. A small miner bug singing as she scurried along, lights now shutting off in preparation for the night and…
A red, black, and white tent in the distance, framed by two torches lit by red flames.
Hollow kept themselves at a distance, no sure if they wanted the answer to the question looming over them. They were thankful that the only house that can accommodate all of the siblings was the farthest away from the tent. The only thing that gave them the vaguest of answers was Grimmchild, who was always around Ghost even when he was sleeping.
They didn’t know that parent of the child was their Grimm.
This feeling was never one they ever wanted to show, companionship and attachments was never something they were meant to have. A blank slate, a hollow vessel, one where they were molded to what their father wanted to be. Though, no matter how hard they tried, they still got attached. Attached to objects, places, and bugs. Familial bonds with their sister who just learned how to walk when they were imprisoned-
“Hollow?” A sharp voice cut through their fog, bringing them back to reality. They were holding… something on their lap. It was concave and looked like an attempt at a bowl, but was terribly crooked and splintered at the edges. Sitting in front of them was their sister, much older than the one in their memories.
No kingdom.
No bounds.
“You had gotten lost again,” Hornet clicked her tongue, holding a chipped nail as she was previously hacking at some stone in a rather poor attempt for some cutlery, “back now?”
Hollow looked around; the lights of Dirtmouth, the smell of sweets from the Elder, and the now-familiar feeling of having one arm. ‘ Yes. ’ They sighed, making sure the bowl was balanced before they did.
“Good,” her reply was curt before going back to hitting the stone with the nail. They don’t blame her, they couldn’t imagine the life that Hornet had to lead after their imprisonment.
A few more clanks against a stone when she finally huffed a sigh, for a moment Hollow thought she had finally given up when-
“Do you remember those stories you’d always tell me?”
Hollow tilted their head, staring back into their sister’s eyes in an attempt for a hint. She gave none, ‘Which stories?’
“ Those stories,” Hornet hissed back, “The ones that you told to help me sleep”
Oh.
Hollow couldn’t help but laugh, which was a mistake on their part. That gave them a sharp kick in the leg.
“So do you or not!?”
‘ Yes. I do.’ They took a pause to rub the spot Hornet had kicked, surely if they were that short grumpy fellow they would have been flung across the village. ‘You were such a strange child.’
She glared, “I have a nail in my hands as we speak.”
Hollow purposely ignored that as they continued, ‘ Always wanting the darkest of stories.’
“And yet you provided,” She pointed the nail at her sibling, not as a threat but more as to prove her point, “stories of faraway places, ones that could leave a common bug in awe and in fear.”
Hollow nodded, while it wasn’t often they had to look after a small Hornet they did cherish their time with their little sister. Even if she was trying to stab their ankles, teaching her sign language and telling stories was their compromise to her going to sleep early.
“So,” Hornet stabbed the stone again, ”where did you learn about them?”
They didn’t know where to begin with to answer that, Hornet knows that they’re Hollow. That Hollow has always had emotions. They had hoped for how things would turn out, they felt pain but didn’t have a voice to cry suffering, they wanted but they restrained themselves.
They looked back towards the red lights.
“Answer the damn question!” Hollow jumped in place, holding onto the crooked bowl for dear life so it doesn’t break.
‘Impatient.’
“Rude,” She pointed the nail back at them, “answer the question.”
Hollow sighed, guess not everything changes. ‘I was-’
They stopped trying to think the right words for it, they didn’t even know what they were. Hollow now knows what they feel for him, but from their desire to be everything their father wanted their brief visits to cure their nightmares, and excuses to stay after was all they had.
‘An old friend- he read them to me.’
“He?” Hornet furrowed her brow to think, “Did I know him?”
Hollow took a breath, ‘ Perhaps? At the very least you know a descendant.; Hornet gave them a quizzical look, ‘Ghost’s friend, the winged one without the name-’
“The Child!?” Hornet’s voice was loud, loud enough to echo off the cliffs. She sat up, almost like she was ready to jump into battle. “ Grimm’s child!? He’s a descendant!?”
Time felt like it stopped. Hearing that familiar name brought back a warmth in their chest that they never thought they would feel again.
‘He’s alive!?’ Their movement was so quick that Hornet couldn’t read their hand the first time, they signed again and she somehow looked more confused.
“Well, yes. I mean you made Ghost and the Child meals before they set out for-”
‘No.’ They cut their sister off with one motion. ‘Grimm.’