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/r/FanFiction Prompt Challenge #31 / June 2022
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Published:
2022-06-30
Completed:
2022-06-30
Words:
1,143
Chapters:
10/10
Comments:
11
Kudos:
57
Bookmarks:
4
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270

Wanderer's Letters

Summary:

Quirrel has read and reread these mysterious letters that found their ways into his possession. Written in a halting script, they make little sense—fogging his mind when he focuses too hard on the details.

The letters are unsigned. He wonders who wrote them.

Perhaps when he arrives in Hallownest, the kingdom's derelict glories will yield answers.

 
OR

 
On his way out of Hallownest, Quirrel writes letters to Monomon that she will never read.

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Entry 1

Dear Madam,

I would ask how you’re faring, but you were never one to approve of rhetorical questions.

A few days ago, as of writing this, they sealed the city from the outside and closed the stagways. There has been no official announcement regarding either of these events—the silence from the White Palace remains absolute—but by all appearances, there is no intent to reopen.

I was fortunate enough to have left in time with my few possessions in tow. I’m not sure how bugs will fare in there, and in truth, I don’t want to find out. I’m lucky enough to have escaped that place, but that memorial at the city’s heart will continue to haunt my thoughts… much like you do.

Hallownest’s citizens are growing agitated. I can’t put it past them; no one wants to be caged up or stranded in a dying land.

No one but me, it seems. And yet, I am the one who must travel farthest from here, never to return.

Why couldn’t you have chosen anyone else?

It will be a difficult road ahead.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Entry 2

Dear Madam,

I only hope the sands, when sweeping my mind clean, take my regrets with them.

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Entry 5

Dear Madam,

I bear your mask and my nail dutifully. The former sometimes raises questions from other bugs, but the latter spares me from answering.

Small mercies.

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Entry 8

 

Dear Madam,

Lately, I’ve been wondering: In your eyes, has our relationship ever been more than professional? Though many would consider “dear” a formality, I fear it may be too familiar in this circumstance.

Then again, it isn’t as though you will ever read this.

I considered you my closest friend, a confidante, a keeper of knowledge and secrets both. We both knew the king’s plan was faulted. We knew the Pure Vessel wasn’t as pure as it seemed, but you, a steward of knowledge, brushed my concerns aside. Perhaps you did not want to confront the possibility—no, the guarantee of failure. And yet, unwilling to accept the truth, you went further still. You played a critical hand in locking up the kingdom’s greatest regret, then turned around and pushed the burden of that role to me. You justified your actions by claiming I was your most trusted friend, and I, a blind and unwitting tool, believed it. I clung to your every word in the name of loyalty and duty, and you, in turn, stripped me of any purpose but your own. I pried up your mask and wore it—as I wear it still—both the key you tasked me with throwing away and the brand marking me as yours.

Now, what can I do but follow the path you set before me?

I can’t

Perhaps things will look better in the morning. The night grows late and my hand is cramping.

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Entry 9

Dear Madam,

I suppose my previous letter proves me to be more selfish than you ever were. I wanted to stay by your side even if doing so cost the entirety of Hallownest. You, on the other hand, had the strength to send me out as an added security, ensuring that even if the other two seals were broken, yours would remain as the last line of defense. Even if

If this task is the last I’ll ever have, I may as well make peace with it. Perhaps even come to love my travels out of this land. Time will tell.

I leave for Greenpath tomorrow.

Should I ever return to the forgotten halls of your Archive, I shall empty these letters into your tank and you can judge them yourself, should you ever wake.

I shouldn’t hope for such things.

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Entry 14

Dear Madam,

What do you dream of?

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Entry 22

Dear Madam,

Sometimes, it’s as if your very mask hums to me. Many evenings, I lie awake and dream with eyes open, wondering: Do you call to me from your deathless slumber? Are you asking for me to return?

Sometimes, after surfacing from the mists of sleep, it’s as though I can almost make out your words. They cling to my shell like dew and dirt in the early morning, beautiful and terrible. What would you say, if you could see me now?

If I dream enough, will I hear you once again?

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Entry 25

Dear Madam,

Do you remember the time we ventured to Unn’s sacred lake to collect samples from the acid? I believe we were going to compare its toxicity to the acid of Fog Canyon… something about it being able to hold more text? I don’t recall exactly, neither do I remember the results of such experiments. However, I do remember the Mosskin threw quite the fit when we were taking samples. I also remember

The lakeshore has become rather overgrown since we were here last, and the native Mosskin aren’t as numerous. They must have been the ones trimming it back. A pity.

The Infection took something from us all.

As I write, I sit at the edge of the pier just above the lake, beside a temple to Unn. But I’m not quite alone. Various acid-loving creatures skitter and glide both in, on, and above the lake, filling the air with a fresh buzz. I’ve been sitting here for hours, taking it all in. The marvels of these lands never cease to amaze.

I suppose this is my way of saying goodbye.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

Entry 31

Dear Madam,

Local legends maintain that Unn created the caves of Greenpath to intertwine with one another, akin to the moss and vines growing all around them. Her followers came to believe that the unity of all growth brings serenity.

Perhaps at the end of this, I too may find peace.

I don’t know why I write such things.

I departed from Unn’s domain a few days ago. The Crossroads, by comparison, hold little life. It’s a gloomy, lonely place, smelling of stone and mold. The bugs here are skittish, and watch me pass by with wary glances. I can hardly blame them. I’d be skittish myself if I lived so close to the Black Egg. Like a metallic aftertaste, its distant presence prickles at the back of my senses. I am always on edge.

I won’t linger long in here.

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Entry 47

Dear Madam,

The Wastes stretch vast before me.

Standing here at their base with the wind in my ears and the sand at my feet, I am raw, peeled-open, laid bare before the waiting world. The pit in my chest tells me my journey is about to begin. I hope whatever I find out there will fill it.

This will be my last time writing to you.

I know you’ve never approved of pointless questions, but I have to ask: Do you regret what you’ve done?