Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She always wakes up in one of two states: cold or sweaty. The former was preferred, the latter more common.

So it was strange to wake up and feel neither. In fact, she felt... nothing. A complete absence of temperature. And texture, come to think of it. Where was her blanket? She always slept with a blanket, soft and warm. Yet she was curled up into a ball, with no blanket to speak of.

It's dark. Staggeringly, completely dark. Darker than she'd ever thought possible. Earlier than I should be awake, then... Curling in a little more, she made the attempt to sleep again.

But things felt too wrong. She felt suspended in... something. Something goopy? Gross. And there were... things, kinda tendril-y, on her arms and legs. Arms and legs that, upon subconscious inspection, felt too short. And there weren't enough fingers holding her knees.

Okay, so, sleep isn't an option, she thought with a huff (or what felt like it should've been a huff). Uncurling, she found the darkness was not nearly as infinite as it had seemed. Quite cramped, really. The walls were weirdly hard, but membranous. She recoiled from the bad sensory. She hated things like that when she wasn't prepared for them.

Steeling herself, she stretched as much as she could, and the walls almost stretched with her.

Almost.

Her foot punctured through, and her evacuating body ripped it open the rest of the way. She would've yelped if she had time to. Very quickly, she found herself deposited onto her butt, sitting on something flat and hard. She looked down.

Stone. Somehow, she was surprised. All around her, big flat stone surfaces, extremely simple and geometric. Purpose-built, rather than aesthetic.

It was chilly, too. Just barely, but enough to make her a little uneasy. The difference was jarring compared to the former lack of temperature.

She was still in a darkness but not as complete as it had been. It was just normal, everyday, store-bought darkness. What could possibly be so dark...?

Turning around, she froze. From confusion, more than anything else. It was a big black sphere, its surface sleek and shiny. Or, no, not shiny. Reflective. And yet, impossibly black. Looking around, there were dozens of them, all cracked open.

There wasn't any liquid around the one she'd come from, though it had definitely felt like a flow of something had shoved her out. It had to have, because she definitely wasn't on the side with a large crack in it. Well, as large as she was. Which didn't look very large.

Instead, she was on the side with a reflection. Hers, presumably. It took a moment to recognize that fact for several reasons. The reflection that looked back at her was startlingly familiar, yet it was impossible.

Sharp notched horns on a big white head, big black saucer eyes and no other features. Small body wreathed in a gray cloak.

Her first thought was, Why? Her second was Why the freaking Hollow Knight??? A few pieces of information very quickly solidified in her mind. She was in Hollow Knight. The game she'd hyperfixated on a year or so ago, and again recently. Moreover, she was the Hollow Knight. The Hollow Knight. That has to be the case, because that's definitely her reflection, but it's just as definitely the child form of the Hollow Knight. Why not the Ghost?

Okay. Whatever. WHATEVER. I'm... probably dreaming. So I'll stop being aware I'm dreaming soon, and I'll get to enjoy a regular dream. No doubt brought on by those other isekai fics she'd read. With a sharp nod—it was jarring to see the Hollow Knight—her reflection—WHATEVER—nod with her—uh... What had she decided?

Right. She hadn't decided anything.

Should probably do that.

Okay. The black spheres must be eggs. This must be the birthplace. It was... different than she'd imagined. There weren't any corpses (not that she minded that at all). Just basic stone walls and floors. On closer inspection, they weren't entirely flat. There were arches in places, and other structural things. The room looked huge. It was a little disorienting.

Then it hit her. She was tiny.

The euphoria hit her like a sack of bricks. She was a little guy! A smol little bean! Usually she was much taller than she would've preferred, and though she'd made her peace with that, she still wished she could've been shorter. She would've kissed her brain for such a good dream if that wasn't so weird and also anatomically impossible.

Okay, okay, don't wanna waste my dream being happy. Let's get a move on. Passing under the huge archway that led out of the deadend, she looked side to side and saw more of the same. More halls with more offshoots with more black eggs.

It didn't take too long to find her way out. All she had to do was follow the stream of vessel skulls rolling and clattering their way down. So it's already started... She'd feel bad for them, if this wasn't a dream. Why am I still able to think that? I should've forgotten it's a dream by now.

The halls were maybe six or seven times her height. The full size of the Abyss, though... she'd never had her mind boggled quite like that. HO-LY CRAP. That's huge. She hadn't experienced vertigo before (or if she had, she wasn't confident enough to name it that), but she thought this must be what it felt like.

There weren't any floating platforms like she remembered from the game. Instead, there were many crags and ledges jutting out from the otherwise smooth walls of the vertical shaft. And in its center, a massive spire rising up, up, up... It was dizzying.

She saw other vessels already climbing, some of them falling. Already a handful of bodies littered the floor. Cloaks lying limp, empty. Hollow skulls, devoid of the deep blackness that should've filled their eyes.

It felt oh, so wrong.

She wanted to wake up. It shouldn't be possible to feel dizziness and dread in a dream. This wasn't right. This was not right.

Her gut sank, if she had one. She needed to stop this. She tried holding some of them back, the ones close by, but they shrugged her off easily. She tried standing in their way, but they just shoved her aside. No, no, no, no, no...!

She had to get everyone's attention. Distract them from that... that beckoning light, up above. Probably a waiting Pale King, but that didn't matter. She had to stop them.

She tried shouting. Nothing came out. She tried screaming, wailing. Nothing came out. There was nowhere for it to come out.

Overwhelmed with agony and desperation, she let out a silent, whole-bodied cry. The silence was, in an oddly literal sense, deafening.

Every vessel that hadn't begun the climb stopped in place, and turned to face her. Hundreds of empty, impossibly black eyes focused on her. It sent a shiver down her spine.

"Stop!" she said. She'd never been much of an orator, but her adrenaline surpassed her social anxiety right now, so by golly, she was gonna try! "We can't be acting like this! There are people dying—your siblings! How can you not care about them? How can you ignore them?

"None of us can make it alone. That's just a fact. But if we work together, we can all survive. I'm sure of it. So who's with me!" She pumped her fist in the air to punctuate her little speech. It would've been quite moving, if it hadn't only been thought. Right, no voice... Um...

She pointed at a vessel to her right at random, then up at the top of the Abyss, where the light came from, as if to say "You? Make it up there?" Then she made a sweeping X motion with both of her arms, saying, "No way!" Then she picked another vessel at random, from her left side, and did the same. Then she made a grand circular motion, intended to take in everyone present, and pointed up to the light: "But all of us making it up there?" She gave a single sharp nod with as much gusto as her little body could muster: "We can do it!"

There stared at her blank-faced for a while longer (as if there was any other way they could stare). Many of them turned away and began climbing on their own, but a good handful of them stayed, huddling around her.

She took them in. She wasn't very good at memorization, but she tried anyway. One with two pairs of horns on their cheeks—she'd call it Whiskers. One with horns curling back on themselves—Ram. One, the tallest of the group by a thin margin, had asymmetrical horns, one very short horn on one side and two longer, curling horns on the other. Incredibly similar to the Lost Kin, so she decided that's who it is—or, not so lost anymore, so just Kin. Another vessel with branching horns—Elk. And the last with two pairs behind each other, like nail clippers—she'd call it Clippers, then.

Whiskers, Ram, Kin, Elk, and Clippers. And their leader—

Their leader...

What... was her name...?

She knew she didn't have time to freak out about this, but she started to anyway. It's her name, she ought to know that. (She's the Hollow Knight, yeah, but that's hardly a name.) It had... it had something to do with water? Running water... Stream? No, that's a dumb name... River?

Sure. She's heard of people named River before. Good enough.

Then Whiskers, Ram, Kin, Elk, Clippers, and their leader, River. She was going to make sure they survived.

Nodding at each of them in turn, she approached the central spire. WAIT. Little Ghost! She froze, starting to turn around. Or... it ends up at the top anyway, right? And it hasn't even hatched yet, so... She shook herself. It would be fine. She just had to trust what she already knew would happen.

The bodies were still falling. The scuffle of climbing feet and thuds of corpses landing on the ground filled the Abyss, echoing off the walls. But there was a spire to climb. She waved her group forward, and they followed close behind as she approached the spire's base.

It wasn't an easy climb. Many walls were too high to jump to, many ledges out of reach. But with the six of them, they made short work of it. Maybe not short work—it could take several minutes to get all six of them up, if not longer. But she was determined to bring everyone. At times, Ram or Elk had started to continue with one or two of the others still waiting to be brought up, but she'd grab their wrist to stop them. They'd look at her for a moment, then nod in understanding and return to assist. No matter what, they were all in this together.

For some reason, that reminded her of a musical. It bothered her a little that she couldn't recall which one.

Chapter Text

And then they were at the top. All six, mostly unscathed. They'd passed other vessels on the climb, tried to include them, but none were interested. It weighed on her heart, but she'd made it with what she had. She considered it a miracle.

The pale light was brightest up here. The stark, cold light of the king. She knew it would take a double jump—the monarch wings, rather—to get up to that balcony. But no one had any. And the only set you know of is, unfortunately, through that exit.

Crap.

Coming out of her thoughts for a moment, she notices the other vessels are staring at her. What are they...?

Then, as if answering her, Elk begins gesturing. Her system wasn't as robust and well-communicated as she imagined, but she thought it was saying... They could throw her.

Her eyes widened. She made the X gesture from before, "No way!" But their nods insisted. She cocked her head to the side, asking, "Why?"

They stared blankly, either not understanding or not having an answer. She couldn't tell either way.

She sighed. Or, her chest heaved like she was sighing. Slowly, solemnly, she nods. What have I gotten caught up in...

It isn't long before her arms and legs are held by Ram and Elk. If she died here... Well, I'll just wake up, right?

...Right?

The pair didn't give her time to wonder. Before she knew it, she was hurtling up to the steel balcony, streaming through wind that should've stung her eyes. And as quickly as it had started, her flight was over. She tumbled down, rolling across the cold metal floor. Only a very small part of her was amused by the clattering of bone on steel, the rest was either too busy thinking she should've been in pain or too relieved that she wasn't.

It felt much longer than two seconds that she was rolling, but something did stop her. She looked up to see what it was and would've gasped.

Looking down at her was a very distinctive—and quite visibly surprised—bug (maybe) with long, sharp horns all around his head, creating an imposing crown. The Pale King, there was no doubt about it.

In a very very short time, she realized several things. This is the Pale King (already knew that). She's the Hollow Knight (again, already known). She's not exactly what one would describe as hollow, though. In fact, she's quite emotional (she's been working on it—dissociation is not pleasant). The Pale King is looking for a hollow vessel (i.e., not her). If he doesn't like her, she'll probably die (scary).

As quickly as she could, she schooled her face to blank serenity. Perfectly emotionless, totally absolutely hollow. Scrambling away from him as respectfully as possible, she stood at attention. Please buy it please buy it please buy it...

After a beat, he himself seemed to realize what was happening. He cleared his throat, and intoned in a booming voice, "No cost too great. No mind to think."

Little Ghost must've begun climbing by now.

"No voice to—"

Whiskers hurtled onto the platform, rolling past the wyrm and out the door behind. He watched, with only a slight widening of his eyes telling River he was surprised.

"Well," he muttered under his breath, before clearing his throat again. "No voice to cry suffering. Born of God and—"

Kin came up next, knocking River down like a bowling pin. They both stood up, dusted off, and Kin gave a nod to the Pale King and River before leaving to join Whiskers.

Only a curt huff indicated his irritation. "Born of God and Void. You shall—"

Clippers sailed over her head and would've crashed into the king's horns had he not ducked. Its flight continued straight through to the exit.

She wanted to turn around to look at Ram and Elk. Holy crap, those two are strong.

"Are there any more?" the Pale King asked in a dry, quiet voice. Clearly he hadn't actually expected and answer, because he immediately went on, "You shall seal the blinding light that plagues their dreams." He paused, perhaps expecting another interruption.

None came. I guess they're figuring out another way up...? It made sense. It took the two of them to throw a single vessel up.

"You are the Vessel." She could hear the capital letter. It scared her, being that important. Her stomach tightened.

The wyrm's face was unreadable, but every word of his carried weight. Weight that settled on her shoulders. "You are the Hollow Knight."

It took everything she had to keep her hands from shaking. Just a little longer, and Ghost would join them. It had to happen. She knew it would. But why did she feel so sick? Should she have waited? That would've been smarter, the right thing to do. She should've made sure Ghost made it up safely.

"Is something the matter?" the Pale King asked. He was tilting her chin up to look at him, very gently. She hadn't even heard him approach.

She was too stunned to answer, or do anything other than stare. It might've been for the best.

In the silence, she heard it. The scrape of claw against metal. Gripping desperately.

"Very well," he said quietly. She assumed it was to himself. Turning around, he waved her to follow. "Come along."

As if. I have a precious bean to help. She didn't hesitate to go the balcony's edge, looking for the vessel she knew would be there. It wasn't hard to ignore the additional, more forceful "come along" from behind her.

There! She saw the jet black hand, clinging to the metal.

Its grip was slipping.

Like lightning, she grab the hand in both of hers, pulling as hard as she could. Another hand gripped the metal floor, and with her help the other vessel pulled itself up.

Ghost, exactly as she'd expected.

She pulled it close, hugging it tighter than she'd ever hugged before. Ghost didn't return the hug, but it didn't seem to think it threatening either. Letting go, she looked down at the spire's peak, but Ram and Elk weren't there. They left...? She didn't want to leave them behind, but...

They'd had a plan. She could go back, check on them, make sure they were okay, or... she could trust them.

She'd only known them for a short time, but she chose the latter.

Holding Ghost's hand (she couldn't bear letting go, couldn't risk it), she approached the massive doorway that led out of the Abyss. She didn't know what would happen on the other side, but she had a good feeling everything would be okay. Her goal—make it out of the Abyss with other vessels—had been achieved.

Her hope waned a little when she saw the Pale King. His face was severe, looking straight at her. Once within reach, he snatched her away from Ghost—a swift reminder that her body was that of someone newly hatched—and spread his wings, dividing his white cloak in the back.

With a little struggle she wriggled free, joining her friends. Siblings, of course, but they were her friends too. She held their hands, looked them in the eyes. What was she trying to give them? Hope, love, admiration? Was she even expressing any of those emotions correctly? Too many questions, and so few answers.

"What are you doing with those creatures?" the Pale King asked, flat and factual. The words stabbed through her back.

"Creatures"?! I am not putting up with that. She promptly walked over and smacked him in the knee. She gestured to herself, then the other vessels, then clasped her hands tightly: "Me and them are the same."

His expression was unreadable, inhuman as it was, but River could tell it was very bad. It said she'd done something very, very stupid.

Quickly, she backed away from him, standing among her siblings. Please don't hurt me... What she feared most was that he would raise his voice.

Instead, he spoke very quietly. Too quietly to be soothing, and with a voice cold and hard like iron. "What do you want with them? To keep them as pets? To train with them? They are not as good as you are, my Hollow Knight. They are not you."

She could only shake her head.

After an uncomfortably long silence, he answered, "Then... I was mistaken." The wyrm approached the doorway, putting a hand on its side.

Well, that's that. The thought was bleak and hopeless, and as much as she hated thinking it, it didn't stop being true. Quiet, meek, and broken, but still true. I failed. He'll throw us back in, and—

"I was going to seal them away," he said, interrupting her thoughts. Whether he spoke to the vessels or to himself, she couldn't tell. He gestured to a boulder beside the arch, a flat face carved into it. "And this great stone beside. Meant for an inscription. 'Our Vessel is complete, beyond lies only that which we turn our backs on, the waste left behind.' Or, something less... regretful. Less guilty." He laughed mirthlessly. "I can't show any guilt. Not now. No, not now..."

This is... weird, to say the least. She didn't know how she expected the Pale King to talk, but... it certainly wasn't this.

Looking through the arch into the Abyss, he mused, "There is nothing I can do for them now." He quickly turned to face the vessels, seeming to remember their presence. He wore a mask of severity, but she was beginning to think something else lay underneath. "I will take the Hollow Knight with me to the palace," he told them. "The... rest of you will wait here."

It nearly knocked River flat on her back when all the vessels but Ghost turned to her for confirmation, as if asking, "Okay, but are we really doing that?"

After a moment to compose herself, she nodded. The Pale King literally exuded authority, it took a little effort to not instantly defer to him. Admittedly, though, it was nice to be looked up to.

If it surprised the King as much as it did her, he didn't show it. He simply picked her up, tucked her under his arm, and took to the air.

Chapter Text

Flying though the air under the arm of a bug-king with surprisingly good grip was simultaneously delightful and disorienting. The Pale King's flight was graceful and purposeful, true, but the path had more turns than River would've liked. She didn't feel queasy, thank goodness, but she still felt a little turned around.

And very quickly she found herself set down, dust being wiped off her cloak and head. "On my name, you're filthy," he said to her. Giving up, he took a step back. "Well... it can't be helped. We'll clean you up later. Follow behind me. Don't dawdle." He started walking toward the entrance and just expected her to follow.

She only lagged behind a moment, walking right up against the tail of his robes. Stars, this is stressful... Feels like my heart should be beating in my ears right now. But, strangely, it wasn't. Well, maybe not so strange. It was a dream, after all. But why is it so offputting...?

The palace was indeed very white, as expected, but she hadn't realized just how marvelous it would be. The ornate architecture, wall columns supporting the vaulted ceiling, tall windows bearing the seal of Hallownest, the floor polished and decorated with an intricate repeating design, the pale flora sprawling across the rafters... She took it all in wide-eyed and amazed.

Then she saw everyone. Retainers, servants, important-looking bugs, and she thought she recognized the Five Great Knights. Immediately, she returned to her usual habits, adrenaline gone and nothing else able to challenge her training. Be quiet, do what's expected, and don't show any emotion. Great. This is fantastic and not at all something I would've hoped to get away from in dreams, she thought sarcastically.

The retainers, those strange bugs in white cloaks, looked at the procession of two curiously. All else watched with hope, or expectation, or even fear in some. River wanted to observe them in return, but her eyes were fixed on the Pale King's back. Old habits died hard, she supposed.

She quickly noticed the palace's layout was much different than she remembered. Instead of bottomless pits and difficult platforming, it was just... a normal palace. With normal rooms and doors. And, blessedly, no buzz saws. She saw halls branching off as they crossed the foyer, but the King's destination was straight ahead, towards the towering double doors. He pushed them open with ease, revealing a room even grander than the rest, a black throne place on the far end, framed by great spikes or horns, and what looked some massive carapace carved with the kingdom's iconography behind. Lanterns hung suspended from the ceiling, their pale light flooding the room and leaving no corner untouched. An intimidating sight to see in person, and to be so small in comparison.

The Pale King never hesitated, leading her past the throne to a door in the back wall. The halls here had a different quality to them. Equally ornate as the rest, but more... lived in. Every now and then she spotted what must be a servant, scuttling between tasks or in the middle of one. They bowed fluidly to their passing king, only continuing once he had fully gone by.

After several turns and flights of stairs, they entered what looked like a bedroom. There was a huge bed (though whether it really was big or only seemed so to her tiny self, she wasn't sure) with one of those canopy things she didn't know the name of, stand lamps holding the glowing white orbs seen in the rest of the palace, chests and cupboards strewn about, fine polished mirrors here and there, and some nice tapestries hung on the walls. What they were tapestries of wasn't immediately clear, but she could at least tell they were more than abstract designs.

"I've returned, my dear," the Pale King called, folding his hands in front of him.

"My dear"? Does he mean—

Another door opened, one she hadn't noticed before, and admitted a being with skin fairer than snow, body obscured with draping gray cloth, a gray that somehow seemed lively and vibrant. She glided smoothly across the floor, and looked down at River with great big eyes that were a beautiful, sparkling blue instead of the cloudy gray River remembered. Her horns—branches, River knew—made a wreath about her head, streaming back and all around.

The White Lady—it could only be her—bent down to look at River. She was easily three times as tall as the Pale King, if not four times, and River's neck was almost unable to bend far enough to meet her eyes. Suddenly, it made sense why every room in the palace had such high ceilings. "Is this the one, then?" she asked. Her voice was soft and motherly, sweet and smooth like honey, and far more calming than her husband's. "The fruit of all our efforts?"

"Indeed it is," the King answered.

"How did it go?" she asked. "I do hope you didn't tear up."

"I'm not sure I'm capable of that anymore." His words were tinged with regret. "Besides, there's more important things at hand."

"Such as this one right here?" the White Lady said, turning back to River.

Standing right next to her, it was hard to ignore just how freaking tall she was. River tried to take in every detail of her without actually meeting her eyes.

For some reason, that made the lady laugh. She covered her mouth (or where it would've been) daintily, but it was still quite audible. "A curious one, isn't it? So observant..."

"Yes," the Pale King said, drawling hesitantly. "About that..."

Before he could finish, she asked, "Does it understand what I'm saying?"

The interruption surprised the wyrm. "I... believe it does, yes." With a long-suffering look at River, he added warily, "Don't give it any ideas."

The last comment drew the White Lady's gaze away. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

Finally free from examination, River shuddered. STARS, it's stressful being studied like that.

"There were... unexpected complications." He paused just a moment before continuing. River was there for everything, so she didn't hear anything new. The Hollow Knight (her, of course) came up from the Abyss with three vessels in tow, and a fourth after he'd finished his speech. "I left the others waiting there. I— I couldn't bring them all, not at once. Not with everyone waiting for us."

The White Lady nodded. "You did what was right, my dear."

The wyrm moved to sit in a chair—River didn't even want to begin untangling what he did with his body to do so—and rested his forehead on his hand. "What have we done, Gwyn?" he asked, distraught. "It's done. I can't do anything more for them."

"Gwyn"? Is that her name?

The White Lady joined him, putting an arm around him to rest on his shoulder comfortingly. Her arms were thicker than bugs' (and were almost human), but her hands had only three fingers each. That's not surprising. But I did always wonder how she'd have arms.

The King went on, "That place... resents me. If I attempt to breach its depths, I'm certain I won't ever return from it. Not after this."

...Oh. That's... It made sense. River knew the void was antithetical to higher beings. It was capable of destroying them, consuming them. That was how it went with the Radiance. Stars... She'd never watched the scene except on the internet, but the Void Given Focus was terrifying. And awesome, of course.

...Why can I think so much about lore in a dream?

The White Lady put a hand on his back for a moment. "Why don't you go back for the others while I get our Hollow Knight washed up? I'm sure everyone will have dispersed by the time you return."

After a long moment. A very long moment. The Pale King nodded somberly. "Yes, that will be good." He rose from the chair more resolute than before. "I'll be back shortly." And without another word he left the room.

Approaching River, the White Lady said, "Well, we have somewhere to be ourselves. Shall we be off?" Despite the question, she didn't wait for an answer. Her cloak wasn't as long as the King's robes, and River caught glimpses of something writhing below the hem.

When they reached the bathroom—not the familiar kind, but a room with a large recess in the floor with several pipes leading to it, still all shades of white—River learned what it was underneath. The White Lady removed her cloak as she entered the empty pool, revealing a mass of shifting roots where one would expect legs. That's actually really cool... Her body was vaguely pear-shaped, tapering off towards the neck, but still far from human. Built like a tree. She's not busty, thank goodness—I don't think I could survive if that was canon.

"Come here, little knight," the White Lady said, waving for River to approach. She did, and the Lady pulled at her cloak near where it met her skull. There was some resistance, and it felt like something suddenly coming untucked from inside her. It left a buzzing feeling in her head, like when her nose would be swabbed during the pandemic. Weird. Bad sensory. Don't wanna do that again. Once the cloak was fully out, the White Lady discarded it next to her own on the pool's edge and turned one of the gauges. Water began streaming out, crisp and clear.

River noticed something in that moment that concerned her greatly. The pool was taller than she was. And, unfortunately, River did not know how to swim. Well that's... not good...

Once the water reached her chin, though, the White Lady turned the water off. If I sit down it'll probably get in my eyes. If my head just has void in it, would my head fill with water? Or would the void keep it out? However curious she might have been, she was far less eager to find out.

Taking a cloth that hung on the wall, the root said, "Now, let's get all that dirt and grime cleaned off." Without delay, she soaked the cloak and began scrubbing River's head. It was a pleasant sensation, one she allowed herself to close her eyes and focus on.

"Do you like that, little knight?" The White Lady sounded strangely unamused. "I quite like the water. It's very pleasant to have my roots in."

River tried to look up at her with concern, but her eyes wouldn't seem to emote properly.

The White Lady noticed. "What is it?" she asked, then quickly added, "I don't suppose you'll answer, will you. No voice to... and all that." She began scrubbing River's horns, fingers stabilizing her hand while her thumb wiped at the grime. "I understand the purpose of it, but... Whether you do indeed possess thought or merely imitate it..." She stopped scrubbing to stroke the back of River's head, so gentle and kind. In a quieter voice she went on, "I'm not supposed to be saying any of this. You're supposed to be our Pure Vessel."

River wanted to reach out and comfort her. Would a hug help? Or just, patting her on the arm? Then again... I'm supposed to be pure and empty. Maybe I should just... do nothing.

The White Lady was silent for a long while as River stared at her. She looked very thoughtful. Then, finally, she resumed scrubbing with the cloth. "Well, maybe there's yet some hope for us." That was all she said the rest of the bath.

As the Queen turned another gauge to drain the bath, River climbed out and observed her body. It was very small and stubby, and her arms were short. She couldn't even touch the top of her head. It was mostly featureless, too, just smooth and flowy, almost fluid-like. Its exterior was definitely solid though, and she could sort of feel the beginnings of the more chitinous form she remembered the fully grown Hollow Knight having. Everything was smooth down-there, which made her slightly euphoric. And—she was most thankful for this—everything bent more or less how she was used to.

The White Lady ascended the shallow stairs from the pool, her roots writhing and carrying her across the ground. That's actually so cool... She bent down to pick up her gray cloak (it was really more of a blue-gray, now that River got a better look), wrapping it around herself and clasping it. River began to do the same, but the White Lady took her shoulder to stop her. "Oh, no, you won't be needing that," she told River. "It grew from your own shell, and now that it's been removed it will begin to wither away. We have a new one ready for you, though." Guiding her with a hand on her back, she walked River back to the bedroom and through it into a side room.

The room was... familiar. There were chests and cabinets and lamps, typical bedroom things, but those didn't mean much. What was significant were the vines and flowers growing along the ceiling, more than in other rooms, and the gray tall-backed chair in front of what looked some kind of cradle or bassinet.

Holy crap.

It's the nursery-place-thing-whatever.

River was frozen in place as the White Lady went over to a dresser, opening a drawer and taking out a folded cloak. It was white, like so many things in the palace. No surprise there. She opened it, brought it over, and put it around River. "There," she said, clasping the cloak in the front, and took a step back. The cloak was silver instead of gray, and the seams were done so it looked made from square plates or scales. The clasp, unsurprisingly, bore the symbol of Hallownest. River looked the cloak over, testing out how it allowed her to move—it didn't restrict her at all. The Queen asked, "Do you like it? Does it... suit you?"

...Should I actually answer that, or...? River wondered. After a moment, she decided to nod. It suits me fine, I think. That's okay to say, right?

"Good, good," the White Lady said, nodding. "We wouldn't want you to be restricted by it. Now, I'm sure this has all been very tiring... It can't have been long since your birth." With that as the only warning, she came and picked River up, placed her in the bassinet, and seated herself in the chair. "Rest well, young knight."

Admittedly, she wasn't very tired. It was almost strange how not tired she was. She wouldn't mind a little sleep, though. As cool as this has all been, I'm kinda ready for the next part of this dream. My brain isn't usually this consistent. Rolling over to lie prone, she brought her arms forward to lay her cheek in them. When'd you get so... good at that... Closing her eyes, her mind drifted, and sleep took her.

Chapter Text

She did not awaken in the land of golden clouds. She was simply nowhere one moment, and there the next. The world was an eternal dawn, the Sun frozen just above the horizon. Huge spikes jutted out from the clouds, massive notched horns of black bone, catching the light in strange ways.

The ground she stood on felt... nothing. It was sensationless, except for the knowledge that it was there. Nothing but pressure against her feet. She paced back and forth to get a feel for it. Felt natural enough.

She looked around at the clouds, at the intimidating spikes rising from them. Instinctively, her gaze avoided the Sun. This place felt familiar, but she wasn't sure why. She almost recognized it, it was on the tip of her tongue...

Oh, hey. It's the dream realm. So, wait, if this is the dream realm, then—

She turned around to look at the Sun.

And the Sun turned to look at her.

River bolted upright, snapping immediately to alertness. Stars. That was... terrifying.

She looked around, took stock of her surroundings. A stark nursery, in every sense of the word. All white, pale flora hanging from the rafters. Chair with a tall back right in front of her. She herself was in a cradle. Or bassinet. The difference was lost on River, but she'd heard both. Oh, right. The nursery from Hollow Knight.

Oh yeah. I was dreaming about that last... night... But I just woke up. I just—

The realizations hit her then, coming on like waves. She'd woken up from a dream. Very definitely a dream, it was quite literally the dream realm. She was dreadfully, absolutely awake now, this wasn't a dream. She was the Hollow Knight, she was really the Hollow Knight. For real. It wasn't... Then, all those vessels... her siblings... Oh stars, her family, her actual family...

She wanted to cry, she needed to cry. But she didn't know how. Her body wouldn't, couldn't, she couldn't cry because this was her body now and it couldn't cry.

Stars. She was tiny now. That was real, that made her happy—

The joy was fleeting. I'm... here. I'm really here. This is really happening. My family, my friends, my... Oh, stars, my partners. That should've bothered her more than it did. It should've. It really should've.

She was dissociating, she knew it. Someone else was keeping her body still (her vessel body, her void-formed body, oh stars—), someone else was keeping her from the emotions (they're gone, stars, they're gone—), someone else was thinking her thoughts (stars, stars, STARS, what am I gonna do, I'm not supposed to have thoughts—).

She wanted to stay there forever. Curl up and never move again. Fossilize there, if she could manage it. But her mind, operating in its multitudes, wouldn't stop thinking.

If this is real, and I'm the Hollow Knight, then that means I've been isekai'd. That's a Japanese word that translates to "other world". The fact wasn't relevant or important at all, but it was true, and in the moment she needed any truth she could latch on to. My old life is gone. Stars, my— (Let's stick to facts, please.) Right. All that stuff is... gone. And now I need a purpose.

What do I know about Hollow Knight. A lot. A heck of a lot. But what's useful right now. Time. Timelines, events, when am I. I—we, I brought others with me—just climbed out of the Abyss—stars, I have no idea how I did all that—so the Pale King's already done all that. I'm here, so the Radiance hasn't been sealed. Is it even safe to think her name?

...Whatever. Seems fine for now. So, I'm here, there's vessels here too, and the Radiance has yet to be sealed in the—uh, in me. I don't really want to get sealed away forever and ever, so I'd like to change that. How can I do that?

I need to learn things. Seems like I can understand whatever bug-language everyone's speaking, but I probably won't be able to read. I'll also need to figure out how to keep the other vessels safe. Could also help to learn how to use a nail—not that I'll need any special plans to get that kind of training, the Hollow Knight probably got—or gets—that anyway—and, of course, I need to not fail as the Hollow Knight. That might get me killed.

Stars. I don't wanna die.

She was still dissociating, she could tell. But she wasn't aimless. She stood up in the bassinet, put a foot up on the edge and—Woah. That's... a far drop. (Is it? Or does it seem that way because I'm smaller?) Probably that second one.

...Well. Nothing for it but... to do it. Just gotta... um.

Come on, River. It's like that foam block pit at... whatever that trampoline park was called. Blinding place changed it's name so much... Not important.

She would be fine. Surely. Her body was made of void, and there was no fall damage in the game. But that was a game, surely physics was more real here than there? She just had to not overthink it and—

River was not a cat. And, much unlike a cat, she landed in a crumpled heap of body. The clatter of her mask (Is it a skull?) on the shiny tile floor failed to amuse her against her discomfort and mild embarrassment. It took a moment to get herself right, and she stood up again. Right then. Glad nobody saw that.

Dusting herself off, she made her way out of the nursery, through the bedroom, and into the main halls. Now, where to go... Guess I'll just pick a direction and start walking.

The halls were huge, even in the apartments. She thought that's what the word was, at least. In the palace proper, the halls were even taller, easily able to accommodate many bugs both standing and flying. Clearly, though, it was designed with the White Lady's stature in mind. The vaulted ceilings weren't so far away as in the Abyss (River didn't really want to think about that anymore), but it still made her a little dizzy looking up at it.

She came across a few servants scuttling through the halls. They gave her small bows as they passed, clearly regarding her highly but too busy to stop for long. Sometimes she'd follow one for a bit, which they didn't seem to mind. They didn't ask questions, at least. But once they got to a room that didn't interest her, she would go off on her own again.

It felt impossible to find anything in the White Palace. She'd been hoping to find the library, or some kind of training grounds, or even just the exit, but nothing. Just endless halls and rooms she didn't see the purpose of.

She was about to give up and attempt to find a servant to gesture at for help when she bumped into someone. She looked up to see who it was as the stranger turned around to do the same. The bug was mostly white, and their mask had three long horns. Two from the sides, one from the top, and all of them flowing back and up. The bug also wore what looked like layered skirts made from big white petals. On their back was a long, thin blade that River might've mistaken for a pin if she didn't know better.

Oh, crap. She was looking up at Dryya, one of the Five Great Knights.

"Oh. It's you." The knight's voice was quick and sharp, and the ends of her sentences lingered. River couldn't quite place the accent. "I am Dryya. You are the King's hollow knight, yes?"

River nodded. It was... weird, honestly, hearing the title said as just a descriptor.

"I did not expect you would be unattended," the knight went on. If it was unexpected, at least she didn't find it suspicious too. Better that she didn't. "My fellow knights and I will be responsible for your training, as you may know." (She didn't, but she expected as much.) "We were going to begin later, but if I already have you, you may meet them now to save a little time. Would you like to do that?"

Again, River nodded. The Five Great Knights... I already know what Ogrim is like, but it'll be cool to meet the others. And they're all pretty chill, from what I remember hearing.

The two of them wove through the maze-like halls, Dryya leading. River had no idea how she knew where she was going, but she must have because it only took a few minutes to reach some kind of large courtyard. The dirt was a light brown color—a very welcome break from the endless white—and benches were thoughtfully placed under the eaves. The palace had many floors, but it seemed most areas in sight from the open roof were kept undeveloped, giving the feeling that the courtyard was less cramped in the palace than it really was. The light from the lumafly lanterns somehow felt kinder here, and less oppressive.

Across the courtyard, four figures gathered on and around one of the benches. River knew immediately who they were—two were large and round, one was tall and willowy, and the last was lean and filled out. All of them had mostly white shells.

"Look who I found!" Dryya called to her peers, almost sounding like she was bragging. The other Great Knights looked, and—River couldn't exactly read their expressions (she hadn't been the best at that with humans, much less bugs), but she thought they looked intrigued.

Ze'mer was the first of them to speak. "Le'mer has brought the knight? It is yet a little before the appointed time—are you eager to begin with the teaching?"

"I only thought it could do with an introduction," Dryya answered, closing the distance between them. "One unhurried, that is."

The rotund one—Ogrim, River reminded herself—nodded. When he spoke, his voice carried without being loud. River liked that. "As good a reason as any, I think. Hello!" He held a hand out to River. Or, whatever bug hands were called. Bug anatomy was not her strongsuit. "I am Ogrim, defender of the King and his kingdom. And your name?"

"It doesn't speak, Ogrim," Isma chided in a lighthearted tone. As if it were a silly thing to slip his mind, and not kind of a tragedy. Isma turned her gaze from him to River and said, "I am Isma, of the verdant caverns in the west. I may not have much I can teach you right now, but I look forward to our time together." Her voiced lilted slightly, which River thought fitting.

"I am Hegemol," the big one said, so quietly River barely heard him. He coughed and cleared his throat, possibly more than he needed, and said more clearly, "Hegemol. I'll teach you hand-to-hand combat."

Wow, he really is soft-spoken. After a beat, River added for her own amusement, He's just like me for real.

Ze'mer inclined her head to River respectfully. "Che' is called Ze'mer." Her voice was sweet and subdued, not at all the whiny, mournful groans River knew from—well, from the future. And she definitely didn't have the vaguely-west European accent other bugs had (but it still wasn't North American, whatever it was). "Le'mer may learn use of the nail from che', but che' thinks you will prefer Dryya for that."

"Perhaps," Dryya said, "but don't sell yourself short. You're quite the skilled nailsbug."

"Nailsbug"... that must be like "swordsman". Or "swordsperson", really. It's kinda funny to me how much sense that makes.

...Or it just makes sense because my brain got free information for... I don't know, isekai reasons. It could easily be that.

Ze'mer nodded slowly. Her face wasn't visible, but River guessed it was contemplative—not that she could've read it anyway. "Then che' will teach what le'mer wishes to learn from che'."

"And I am Dryya," said the knight, "first of the Great Knights in service of the King. I have been tasked to teach you in wielding a nail. And speaking of." she snapped her fingers and a young bug came from a doorway, carrying two wooden (shellwood, River corrected herself) nails in their arms. Dryya took them both, keeping the longer for herself and holding the shorter out for River to take. "Shall we begin?"

Oh. Oh stars.