Chapter Text
The first thing she could remember was her mother. Her arms were soft and warm. The roots would caress Hornet day and night, filled with love. They would hold her, take care of her. These roots were always very gentle with the spiderling’s fragile body.
They were the things that Hornet first saw when she opened her eyes. The roots were white with a soft glow. The bearer of these roots was a beautiful being with baby blue eyes. They gleaned and smiled at her.
It was easy to tell early on that she was one to trust. She would sometimes feed Hornet small bits of honey or maybe even meat, and make sure everything went down properly. She would always speak to her in a light and whispering voice. The connection between them grew, as the unstoppable force of love was present.
Hornet would spend most of her time sleeping in her nest, little spiderlings needed plenty of rest, but was always delighted to see her mother should she enter her room. It didn’t even occur to her what or where she was, but her mother brought comfort. And that was all Hornet wanted at the time.
It wasn’t until Hornet was able to properly say her first word (honey) that she, for the first time, saw someone other than her mother. Shortly after she had successfully finished her pronunciation- all she did was copy the sounds of her mother- she rushed out of the room and shortly returned with another being.
The first thing Hornet noticed was how he also gave off a glow, yet much brighter and harsher than that of her mother’s. He was a bit shorter than her mother, but was very elegant in his stature. He stood very upright with his hands behind his back. Hornet could sense that same connection between him and her. Her father.
The second being that Hornet could trust fully. Though, he showed very little expression on his face. Would she be seeing her father more often? Would he too feed and take care of her? Were there any other beings she should know about? Questions, questions, questions. But Hornet knew that the answers would come with time.
Hornet’s questions were indeed soon answered. Her father didn’t come to see her nearly as much as her mother did. When he did, he often wouldn’t stay for long. While her mother would see her multiple times a day for feeding and the small amounts of exercise (crawling), her father would only visit every couple of days or less.
This upset Hornet. As much as she enjoyed and cherished her mother’s soft touch, she would long for the change of pace that came with her father’s presence. Even if he didn’t offer much when he was there.
It wasn't long before more beings came into her conscience. First it was two beings that looked like her, yet they were older and had different shaped horns. She often wanted to compare them in front of a mirror just to see how similar or different they were. These two would come in much more often than her father, sometimes taking turns feeding her or playing with her, but they would always come together. Very comfortable beings they were, her siblings.
The next to come were five bugs of complete variety. One was green, with flowy leaves acting as a skirt. She possessed the same gentleness as Hornet’s mother. The next was a white dung beetle (though she didn’t know this at the time) who would often make her laugh with his antics. The other three weren’t as interactive with Hornet as those two. One was a tall white figure with antennae, another being a round, hard shell, and the last being a very light gray color with three horns sticking up from her armor. These five were a jovial bunch and always could lighten the mood if something happened, like if Hornet got hurt.
She was finally old enough to leave this room after a month or two. It was her mother that taught her to walk, and although she was unstable, she was consistent enough to be granted exploration of the palace.
Of course, she didn’t wander around unsupervised. Her mother held her when they first left her room, showing her the outside. The room beside hers was supposedly her siblings’ room. It was the same in size, but the layout was different. The room on the left wall was her father’s chambers. There, he had both a bedroom and a personal bathroom. The same was true on the right wall, for her mother.
Hornet wondered why her parents earned such treatment. The group of five got smaller rooms and no personal bathroom. Were her parents special, in some way? Did everyone live in a palace like this?
Something that stood out to Hornet was the giant tree in the middle with glass surrounding it. The giant square hole in the floor proved that it was purposeful, and not just nature finding a place to coexist with sentient beings. The white glow and the way the roots twisted and turned provided ample proof of a connection between the tree and her mother.
There was a balcony on this floor. It overlooked the entirety of the palace gardens. Hornet was amazed at all of the greenery and lush plants, yet there was plenty of white and gray intermingled as well. It was much more vibrant than what she was used to. The simple sight of the outside of the palace was breathtaking. The world was huge!
The lower floor consisted of much more interactive type rooms. There was the music room, the weaponry, both her parents’ offices, a small bathroom, two training rooms, and a game room. There was another room, quite a big one at that, but Hornet was told she was not allowed to go in there. Of course, there was also the tree in the middle.
There was a long hallway leading to a library on this floor, Hornet was told. Upon arrival, she was taken aback by the sheer vastness of it. The ceiling was tall and grand. The book shelves reached only about ¾ of the way up. There were several tables strewn about the room. In the very back, there were two studies. Hornet didn’t go in these, however.
The first floor was much more open than the second and the third. There, Hornet could see the base of the tree. It was rather large. The dining hall was on this floor, as well as the kitchen. There was also a medical room, a big storage room, an extra office and a bathroom. It held the passage to the palace gardens.
There was a floor below the stairs. But when Hornet cooed and gestured toward it, her mother quickly disregarded it and told her not to worry about it. Apparently it was something she need not see and they shouldn’t bother wasting their time. It didn’t stop Hornet from being somewhat curious, though.
The palace gardens were even better up close. Hornet could both feel and smell the freshness of the vegetation. Vines twisted here and there, trees spurt up from the ground, flowers covered the open soils. There was, however, a section that was neat and orderly. Certain types of plants grew in this section, all laid out in a rectangular array. Perhaps this was the growth that was more nurtured than the rest.
Truly a place to live, this palace. It had everything one might want or need. The events of the day swirled in Hornet’s head as she was put to bed. Of course, she knew she wouldn’t go to bed right away. It seemed obvious that she was to go explore the rooms she was ushered away from.
She waited several minutes before making her move. Opening the door was hard, she was much too small to reach it. But before she realized what had happened, a strand of silk appeared from her body, and it acted as a rope to pull down the doorknob.
The palace was much quieter during the night. Normally there would be lots of bustling, but right now it was still. Hornet silently pitter pattered her way down the stairs and to the room she couldn’t go into earlier. Using the same trick, she opened the door.
It was even darker here. Though it was difficult to discern where she was going, the darkness reminded her of… something. She could not recall what. Perhaps it was just deja vu, then.
Hornet opened the door wider to let whatever light there was, in. The room was very open, and lengthy. At the back wall, in the very center there lay a throne upon several shallow steps. Walking closer, she could soon make out her father’s scent. It got stronger as she neared the throne.
There was a door on the right wall. Inside of it was a much smaller room. A stone tablet with white writing on it sat on the floor. Though Hornet couldn’t exactly read, it said:
“No blazing kin. Only one light shall shine against the dark. The Wyrm becomes beacon, minds expanded, to yield, to devote. Eternity in promise and charge in progeny cursed.”
She figured it was enough, and began to make her way out of the room. Before she fully exited, she took one final look back only to catch sight of something she was fully oblivious to before. Above the throne, flush against the back wall, was a big white symbol. It looked like… like her father’s crown. Although this one only had four prongs instead of his usual nine.
She would figure it out later, Hornet told herself. There was still another place she wanted to visit. She walked down the other flight of stairs and took a sharp 180 to face the other set of stairs directly underneath. It was a short flight of stairs. The room she entered was extremely small. There were two doors and a hallway connecting to this room.
Hornet entered the room straight ahead of her, and her heart started racing as she laid her eyes on her father, staring at a blackboard with some writings on it. He quickly jolted his head to meet eyes with Hornet.
It took him a couple seconds to speak. “You should be in bed.” His tone was mostly blank, with a hint of surprise. Hornet paid nearly no attention to his asking and instead walked deeper into the room, her eyes bounding from one place to the next.
There were shaped shells of metal, books and papers, and strange buckets of black liquid that seemed to repel even her father’s light. How strange. All she could muster up was one word. “Woah.”
“Hornet, get back into bed. You shouldn’t be in here.” His light grew harsher. Hornet, again, ignored him. She was fascinated by this inky black stuff. Something urged her to touch it.
“Hornet, get back into bed this instant.”
This time, Hornet listened intently. At the back of her mind, she wanted to keep looking around, to discover what else was in this room. Ah, but that voice… Who could resist such a tone? It was like it bounced off the walls and back to her mind. It was… beautiful, to say the least. If her father wanted her to go back into bed, then that’s what she would do. She made her way back up the stairs.
The king slumped down into his chair. He was shrouded in guilt. He really shouldn’t have done that. There were so many other ways he could’ve gone about that, rather than forcing his own daughter to do his bidding. It was just the heat of the moment, he thought. But at the same time, the king shunned himself that his voice was what he resorted to under stress. He would make sure this didn’t happen again.
No, he knew why he had done it. He could have easily moved that void bucket out of the way before she reached it. He didn’t want it to be true, but there was no avoiding it. His Wyrm side had almost shown through, what he had always said wouldn’t happen. If he accidentally let those instincts take over when faced with his daughter, alone, then… then he might have… he couldn’t finish that thought.
Hornet was still young, and still very vulnerable to his instinctive side. Both Hollow and Ghost were made of void, something wyrms didn’t toil with, though even then he could feel his instincts chirp up sometimes. But Hornet was just a spider hatchling. The king had to make sure he didn’t partake in much of her life until at least her next molt. The more she grew, the better.
How great of a father he was.
The next morning, Hornet felt pathetic. Did she really get back into bed just because her father told her to? Why did she listen? He hadn’t forced her physically or anything. He just verbally said so. How embarrassing.
Whatever, it was morning now, and soon she would be greeted by her mother for her usual feeding. Hornet still toiled with the thought of the inky black liquid, but decided not to ponder over it too much.
It had been several minutes and nothing. Her mother was never this late. And Hornet was hungry. She decided she would go complain to her about it if she was in her chambers.
Hornet could hear arguing when she got up to the door. They definitely belonged to her parents.
“… was for her own safety!”
“You told me you would never use your voice unless it was a dire emergency!”
“A few more moments and it very well could have been.”
“My wyrm, you are stronger than that. You’ve suppressed your instincts for centuries. They wouldn’t suddenly come out in a couple seconds.”
“This one is powerful. I could feel it.”
“You shouldn’t worry so much. You are her father.”
“My instincts are driven by the very fact that I am her father! Do you not understand how dangerous this is?”
“If it is that dangerous, then explain to me why you let yourself interact with Hornet several times before without a problem.”
“That was different. I was never alone with her, someone else was always there.”
“That shouldn’t make a difference. Goodness, you just never run out of excuses!”
“My reasons are what save my daughter! What do you know about wyrms?”
Hornet couldn’t understand most of the words that were being said. Were they talking about eating something? If so, Hornet would gladly introduce herself into the situation.
Hornet could hear her mother sigh. “You tend to over exaggerate. As a king, you really need to get a grip over your nerves. And as her mother, I know that Hornet will be fine.”
King. That was a word she understood. Hornet’s mother had told her stories about kings before. And based on the other words in that sentence, Hornet could make a strong inference: Her father was a king. That throne with his scent, that mark on the wall, the palace. Everything made sense now. Did that make her the princess, like in all those storybooks?
“…You have very little right to make that claim. You didn’t even give birth to her.” A few seconds after he finished, Hornet’s father- no, the king- walked out of the room. Hornet was just standing there. He looked at her, his expression turning rather worrisome. Before anything was said between them, he speed walked away from Hornet to his chambers.
Hornet followed. Stress, rage, disappointment- Hornet knew not what these words meant. Or that they even existed. But she knew the feeling. And yet even though she could tell that these feelings pierced through her father’s body, he maintained his elegant stature as he strode down the hallway- standing up tall and one hand clasped around the other behind his back. He truly was a king.
She quickly ran after him, catching up with him before he closed the door. Upon sight of her, he turned around and gave her a sharp, mean glance. He slammed the door in her face.
But why? What had she done wrong? She certainly wasn’t one that her parents wanted to listen in on their conversation. But all that was said, she only understood a handful. Couldn’t they see that? Hornet shed a few tears before slugging up to her mother’s bedroom. But she opened the door first.
“Oh, I am so sorry my little Hornet.” She scooped her up into her branches.
“Father… why mad…” Hornet was still young and couldn’t form fully coherent sentences yet. She hoped it was enough to get the point across.
Hornet wasn’t ready for the full conversation yet. Not by a long shot. Heck, would they ever tell her? The thought frightened the White Lady. Hornet didn’t need to know that her mother wasn’t who she thought she was. She took a deep breath.
“Come on, you must be hungry.”