Chapter Text
Quirrell
Quirrel was on the edge of the kingdom, where the molting skin of the Wyrm responsible for the majority of the suffering in his life was still falling from the sky like snow.
It was a desolate place, lonely and barren. The mood matched Quirrel’s current state of mind well.
Upon breaking the seal on his former mentor’s dreaming state with the mask she had entrusted him with and assisting the strange little…. Half-shade in fighting Uumuu, he’d been left feeling completely empty. Hollow. And this emotional state was new to him.
He’d been wandering around confused for a long time, with the loss of his memories, but he’d felt a drive within him to keep going through it all.
Through the sorrow and anger of losing Monomon to what he felt would be a fruitless task he’d been fueled by an obsession with keeping her memory alive.
Through his despair at the downfall of the city and the subsequent slow death of the surrounding territories, he’d felt compelled to survive it all, with the understanding that his job wasn’t done yet. And that when Hallownest itself was on the brink of death, Monomon needed him to complete one last task.
He hadn’t been a strict sentry during his time waiting either, he’d indulged in all the simple pleasures he could fit in during his travels.
Across the years he’d continued to learn all that he could, with the gaps in his memories furthering his compulsion to know if he already knew some of the bits and pieces of information he was happy to learn or maybe relearn.
He’d eaten as well as he could, given the general state of the land he travelled through.
When he met other travellers, he enjoyed their company as much as he could, with the clear understanding that it was always temporary. He’d had his fair share of good conversation and silly card games and if the mood struck him and whoever he happened to spend an evening with, sometimes he’d share their bed too.
His life hadn’t been dull or monotonous while he’d been waiting for the call that had drawn him back to Hallownest, it had been as full with distractions and happiness as he was capable of making it, with the weight of his duty.
His time as a wanderer had been enjoyable. Perhaps not as fulfilling day-to-day as it once was, back when he’d been Mononon’s apprentice. But still, he’d been happy with the simple pleasures he’d experienced each day, because he’d had a purpose. An ultimate end goal. Even if he didn't know it, he felt it.
But now? As he stared out over the bleak terrain before him he couldn’t muster up any strong emotions either way.
He wasn’t curious about the surrounding caverns and mountains, like he used to be upon coming across new areas. He wasn’t saddened by the dead bodies littering the floating rocks and ledges above and below him. He wasn’t worried about the new types of bugs he was seeing around him and how their attack patterns might look. He was just… here.
Why was he here?
After releasing Monomon in the archives and parting ways with the little shade, he'd simply began walking.
He didn’t have a plan for where he’d end up. He’d just… started off in this direction.
He supposed it made some degree of sense that he’d end up on the edge of the kingdom once more, upon completing the task he’d been living for this whole time. Whether a part of him wanted to leave this kingdom for good, see the body of the Wyrm who started it all or perhaps use the acid pits below to end his life, he didn’t know….
He could, actually. It wouldn’t be difficult, painful sure but ultimately very easy.
Quirrel looked down from the cliff ledge he was currently seated upon.
No. If he was going to end his life, he wanted it to be in a more peaceful and beautiful place than this. Perhaps somewhere close to Greenpath. He’d always enjoyed the look of that place...
Maybe he’d finally commit to finding the source of the water that resulted in the City of Tears’ perpetual state of rain. A river was probably responsible for the rain, now that he thought about it. Or maybe a lake...
That would be a good way to go.
While he knew that the act itself of drowning would be unpleasant, the overall peace of it appealed to him greatly. Walking into a lake and simply not coming back out…
Quirrel was halfway committed to the idea of looking for the water source above the city to drown himself in when movement on the edge of his vision drew his eye upwards, to its source.
Ah, that was right. He was below the back section of the Colosseum of Fools.
Quirrel watched two helmeted bugs walk back inside after having dumped the body of another victim to the Colosseum’s strange pull, that must’ve been what caught his eye.
Quirrel followed the line from where they’d been standing downward on instinct. Except, he couldn’t figure out which body they’d just thrown over the edge. There were so many, all in different lifeless poses and on different ledges and platforms.
Quirrel felt the beginnings of an emotion rising in him, he thought. It was repulsion, at the way the Colosseum refused to show any respect for the dead.
That was another benefit of this drowning plan he’d just begun to form. His soul would be at peace in a beautiful place and his body would be lost to the water.
Just then though, one of the fools appeared back on the ledge above and casually tossed what looked to be a shield over the edge. Quirrel did manage to follow the shield down with his eye this time, it looked familiar too.
The shield landed on a ledge almost directly below the one it had been thrown off of, but much further down than the one he was currently sitting on.
He watched it bounce slightly and roll to a stop, not too far away from the body of its owner.
Quirrel recognized the body of the bug.
He didn’t know his name but he’d seen him in passing a few times across his journey. He’d never talked to the “Shield Wielder,” as Quirrel had begun calling him in his head or even heard him speak. But he’d seen him from a distance. Once as he exited Dirtmouth, once in the City of Tears and once as he himself was exiting the Colosseum after satiating his curiosity for what kind of bugs were inside.
The little shade seemed to think him interesting too. So that was a point in his favour.
The sadness Quirrel felt as he looked at the body of the fallen warrior, or rather the fool who had chosen to die in combat simply for the glory of it, was vague.
He didn’t know the bug, didn’t even know if he was a good person or warrior in general, but still… Seeing the body of someone he recognized brought forth an approximation of grief. It was hazy around the edges and undefined, easily interchangeable with what he might feel for other bugs he barely knew.
He’d feel the same shallow need to mourn if he found the body of the little miner bug, Myla, who he'd spoken with only once. Or the mender bug he’d seen a handful of times fixing the sign below Dirtmouth. It wasn’t deep and he could’ve ignored it…
But it was an emotion and with how empty he’d been feeling these past few days he couldn’t help but cling to it.
Quirrel thought for a moment on whether he wanted to pursue the sense to do something that was slowly setting in over him. He didn’t want to, but like many things in his life he felt he had to.
Sighing at his own inability to harden his heart, Quirrel stood to begin his descent down the cliffs, towards the Shield Wielder's body. And as he hopped from platform to platform he was content with the knowledge that this would end up being his final good deed in life. Burying the body of a foolish bug when his own was destined to be floating in the water soon enough.
As Quirrel landed on the ledge holding the Shield Wielder’s body his mind was mainly on where he would bury it. It was too rocky on the surrounding cliffs to hope for soil of any kind. The basin Quirrel knew to be below them also seemed like a bad idea. There was soil to do it there, but something about the place seemed hostile in a way, unfitting of burying the dead. He might have to settle for giving the bug an unmarked grave in the caves leading towards these cliffs…
Quirrel was so deep in thought over the logistics of where exactly he would lay the bug to rest that he was extremely startled when the Shield Wielder made a gurgling noise and twitched slightly.
Quirrel’s hand dropped to his nail instinctually and he jumped as far back as the ledge would allow.
The Shield Wielder made another noise, a wheezing sound this time and raised his left hand shakily, only managing to get his wrist to move and not his full arm, which looked to be broken.
The bug fell silent and unmoving again after that and Quirrel was kneeling by his side in an instant.
Alive. This poor bug was still alive and they’d just tossed him off of the cliffs to curl up and die, alone and forgotten.
The righteous indignation that coursed through Quirrel then was strong. The Colosseum of Fools was known for it’s pain and cruelty but no one deserved to be tossed out to die like this, like their life had no purpose or meaning once they couldn’t fight for the entertainment of others anymore.
The bug was unconscious again and that might be for the best actually. Moving him would be easier if he couldn’t feel the pain.
Quirrel prodded the Shield Wielder lightly, testing to see if he would awaken again. When he stayed unconscious, Quirrel went about checking the extent of his injuries.
Based on what he could see and feel, the bug’s left arm was broken, as well as a large section of his torso. Whatever had hit him had basically pulverized his entire left side. That was strange for a Shield Wielder… perhaps he was left handed and had been blindsided by something large?
Quirrel looked over at the bug’s shield and picked it up, attaching it to his back. The bug wouldn’t be able to use his weapon for some time, but he’d definitely want it back eventually.
With the shield secured, he went about carefully gathering it’s wielder up in his arms and slowly setting him over his shoulders.
Quirrel tested the Shield Wielder's weight, walking in a circle on the small ledge. He was heavier than he looked, but not too heavy for Quirrel to move around with any issue. Now the question was just if the bug would wake upon being moved.
Quirrel sincerely hoped he’d stay unconscious. Being moved while injured was a pain he’d experienced enough times not to wish it on anyone else.
So, sending out a wish to the universe that the bug got to sleep through the worst of his pain Quirrel took an experimental jump to the nearest platform. When the Shield Wielder didn’t stir Quirrel continued on to the next platform and then the next. Eventually he made it to the bottom of the cliffs and stood above the acid pit he’d considered throwing himself into less than an hour ago.
Quirrel allowed himself to get lost in it’s neon blue fizzling for a moment as he considered where to go next.
He knew there was a solitary nail sage to the east... He probably wouldn’t turn Quirrel and the injured bug away but getting to him would be a nightmare with all the Hoppers in the area.
He could bring the bug down into the Ancient Basin, portions of it had to be safe, despite the general darkness of the place… But getting back out of there might be a problem, not to mention that getting food down there would be difficult.
That just left going to the west, seeing as the Colosseum was above them. He could probably find a place to hide within the City of Tears. Or better yet if he could find a hot spring somewhere he could help speed up the Shield Wielder's healing process.
The little shade had mentioned one, hidden away from the public in a tall sealed off building and accessible through the old elevator shaft. That should be easy enough to find.
Quirrel only knew of one elevator shaft connected to that district of the city, so finding it shouldn’t be difficult now that he knew where to look.
And so, with the outline of a destination in his mind, Quirrel set out for the City of Tears once more… All the more near to the water source he was hoping to find after he made sure the Shield Wielder was safe.