Chapter Text
Hornet first spots the vessel as it enters Greenpath.
It’s small, much smaller than some of the other escaped vessels she’s encountered. It reminds her more of the Hollow Knight than any vessel before; this one’s pale horns curve upwards in the same way the Pure Vessel’s had when it was young.
She watches it traverse through Greenpath, watches it strike down the bugs who’d seek to attack it. She has to admit, this one seems to know its way around a nail much more than previous ones had. Though its nail is dented and dull, it wields the blade in a way that displays familiarity. A familiarity the others hadn’t shown.
Maybe this one is different, a voice whispers in the back of Hornet’s mind. Maybe this one can end our suffering. It’s a hopeful, naive sentiment, one that she dismisses as quickly as it came.
She’d always hoped, in the start. Maybe this vessel was the one, maybe this one would supplant the Hollow Knight, she’d thought. In the end, they all fell to her needle, their broken shells at her feet.
Why should this one be any different?
***
This particular vessel is odd, Hornet thinks.
Perhaps she’s just had the opportunity to watch it for longer, or perhaps she’s being more observant. Either way, it’s not behaving as she’d come to expect. She had never seen the Hollow Knight eat, or sleep even, but this vessel did both.
She came across the vessel making a small fire, roasting a dead tiktik. At first, she’d been confused, thinking that another bug had asked for it. Then, the bottom of its shell cracked open to reveal a set of razor-sharp, black teeth, and it swallowed the tiktik in one gulp. Hornet was taken aback, but justified its behaviour as mimicking that of other bugs.
Then, she’d come across it sleeping. She had been returning to stalking the pale thing from a quick break to hunt some food, when she’d frozen in her tracks. The vessel was sitting on the nearby bench, its head drooped sideways, breathing slowly. It made no sign of hearing or seeing Hornet as she crept closer, and made no movement when she leaned over to inspect it.
Maybe this was normal, she reasoned. Maybe the Pure Vessel had done this too, and she’d just never witnessed it. Perhaps its body got tired, or needed energy. What did she know of the logistics of Void creatures? Just because it did two insignificant things, didn’t mean it was tainted.
Odd, though.
She watches as the vessel is visibly startled by a mosscreep popping up in front of them, jumping to the side and shaking its head slightly, as if in laughter.
Odd doesn’t mean tainted, she thinks desperately.
***
Eventually, they come face to face again, and this time, Hornet does not back away.
“Come no closer, ghost,” She says, brandishing her needle threateningly. “I’ve seen you creeping through the undergrowth, stalking me.”
The little vessel recoils from her drawn weapon ever so slightly, and Hornet has to force herself to ignore it. Stop it, she thinks. It is hollow, it is empty, they all are. Stop considering anything else.
She forces herself to take a deep breath. “This old kingdom… a terrible thing awakens. I can smell it in the air…” She watches its miniscule reaction closely. “I know what you are. I know what you’d try to do. I can’t allow it.” Her voice sounds far more sure than her thoughts.
The little vessel has drawn its weapon, cautiously settling into a ready stance.
Hornet has never been one to back down from a fight. She lowers herself into a fighting stance, before lunging forwards, and the fight begins.
The small vessel is strong, she will give it that. Its nail swings are defensive at first, but grow more confident as the fight continues. It meets her blows steadily, dodging her attacks. But one thing it is not is graceful.
As the battle wars on, Hornet becomes acutely aware of how instinctive its movements are at times. How it desperately ducks and weaves to avoid her needle, how it lets out soft noises every time it is struck. She is losing her focus, too distracted by the suddenly very real possibility that she’s misjudged the vessels the whole time.
After some time, the small vessel lands a blow, and she is too exhausted to continue. She is a mess of thoughts, too distracted, and too panicked, and lets herself be bested.
Without a single word to the small vessel, she runs. She runs, and runs, until before she realises it, she is in front of the Black Egg Temple, staring up at her mothers mask emblazoned on the surface.
Why did the Hollow Knight fail? It’s a question she’s asked time and time again, but never wanted to answer. The Hollow Knight was supposed to be perfect, an empty sacrifice to contain a rampaging God, but it didn’t work.
Why didn’t it work?
When did Hornet stop thinking of them as her sibling? When did she begin to think of the vessels as empty? When she was a child, she’d spent hours playing with the Hollow Knight, always insisting that they cared about her, even when her father denied it, and explained that they couldn’t care. Where had that gone?
Had it left, along with her mother?
The first time she saw another vessel?
The Hollow Knight had failed because they weren’t truly hollow. That meant they never had been. Had any of them? She’d thought it mercy, swiftly killing the wandering vessels. She had tested them, and they failed. She had simply been putting an end to a meaningless existence.
Had they been scared of her as they died?
Their own sister, mercilessly slaying them, without even saying why?
Was she a murderer?
I already was, she reminds herself harshly. In a world ravaged by infection, I’ve killed innocent bugs left and right. But this was different. This was her kin, born into a cursed land, with tragedy lurking as early as their birth.
At least one of them deserved a true sister.
She needed to find that little vessel.