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The stench of Bilewater was unbearable. She wouldn't have gone back to that place on her own unless she had something to retrieve from there. Something important. Though, technically, this is important, to Lace. They were, in fact, on the way to retrieve something, er, some-bug, important.
It was the first thing she spoke of when they managed to climb out of the Abyss together. It was more important to her than to check if the plague had really been destroyed, or if any of the friends they had and acquaintances they met had survived. "Spider," she begged in her ever-whiny but oh-so-sweet voice, "We must see if my sibling is alright, we simply must, right now!" There was nothing that could convince her to go recover first, even as she stumbled and fell and once even fainted on the way up, her sibling. Hornet couldn't help but sympathize, a little, with the feeling of needing to see if one's family is alive before even considering to look inward, or anywhere else. She had so little, and all that she had had been long lost, or so she thought, before the little Ghost rescued her from the Void, and disappeared back within just as quickly. If there was a chance Lace's lost sibling might still be alive, as Lace hoped, as Hornet hoped on Lace's behalf, then it was worth checking.
But what a turbulent thing for her mind, to adventure with a being still so sick from the aftermath of the Void. Turns out Lace doesn't even need to breathe, neither does she have a heart that beats. Which means there is no distinguishing her sleep from her death. When she dropped unconscious that one time on the way up, Hornet couldn't tell if that had been the last of her days, until she stirred awake once more.
But Hornet is one to keep her promises. And so they did go to Bilewater, brought there by courtesy of the Bell Beast, which Lace was simultaneously terrified of and fascinated with, but who she didn't honor with a single further thought upon their arrival. She headed out of the Bellway with great determination, and then lingered and looked up. "The Exhaust Organ must be this way, come," she commanded, and headed forward, jumping the platforms swimming atop the maggot-infested bile with the light-footedness of a flea. Hornet followed her every step, internally calculating every possible way she could catch her if she fell, just in case. She could skewer Lace upon her needle if she had to (turns out she can survive such a thing, due to being strung from silk), pin her against that wall over there or launch her up into the air, to then catch her. In the worst-case scenario where Lace would fall into the maggots, then Hornet would jump right after, fish her out and stab all the maggots out. If that wouldn't work, maybe she could do something with her silk? She didn't know, she never tried, and the thought filled her with dread, but the thoughts subsided, for Lace reached solid ground. Wandered forward, and Hornet needed to direct her attention to where the silken bug was going, lest it died in another way.
Like so many times when she was sleep deprived and walking in one direction for too long, her thoughts wandered. It was a bad thing, to let one's thoughts wander, leaves room for attacks both physically and mentally, but she could not help it, this malfunction of hers. She wondered about what this sibling might be like, and why they might be in Bilewater, all while somewhat staring at Lace ahead of her.
She wondered if they were there by choice or by exile, and if they were as strange as other bugs she met on her travels— the ones in Bilewater were particularly strange. Groal, who would regurgitate Soul as a means of combat, and Styx, who sees the world in rigid terms of domination and submission, contrarily to her will assuming she must be his mistress, and treating her as such. A sibling of Lace's must be spun of similar character as her, she thought, entirely of silk, and possibly as mad as her. Maybe they were trapped there, then, considering how dangerous these lands were for Lace? Or were they there by choice, secluded, to dedicate themself to some sort of research? If so, what kind? Perhaps a morbid curiosity for all the things here that could kill them? She could imagine a sibling of hers doing that, similar to the alchemist Zylotol she met, who studied Lifeblood— or Plasmium, as he called it.
The scenery changed, pulling her attention back to her surroundings, but only halfway. Were they even real? She couldn't tell where the air ended and walls began, or the abyss. Was there bile anywhere? Mist, mist all around.
"Do you know the way?" asked Hornet, blinking, "I don't have a map of this area."
"I never took this path actually," Lace admitted, "There used to be an elevator connecting the Exhaust Organ and the Citadel, but the way was closed off."
That was less than reassuring. Hornet went ahead and took note of the wooden constructs, the walls. She spotted an exit, bingo. Oh, there were two, actually. Shit, which way to go?
She looked around further. Silk flies danced in the air. And as she breathed, she found that the mist consisted of vapor and fine bits of silk. She figured there was no use in lingering, mentally flipped a coin and headed for one of the exits—
And met face-to-face with some sort of ghost. She had little time before it screeched and attacked her, and she dodged out of instinct, only then did the thought follow that this meant the ghost was beelining straight into Lace. She looked back, and indeed, the ghost had gripped Lace. Hornet struck it, and it wailed again and dropped her, Hornet caught her. She had tears in her eyes. She must be scared, Hornet thought at first, so it came as a surprise to her when Lace whispered: "It looked just like them, my sibling..."
"So that means we're headed in the right direction, or..?"
"I don't know, let's go."
So they went that way, encountering the occasional wraith, and several traps. The wraiths threatened to whisk Lace away every time, and Hornet made sure they would not do that, again and again. Lace could fight too, of course, in theory, but she did not. Hornet knew the feeling, to fight creatures that resembled, or were, her half-siblings, was a horrible feeling. She suppressed it by spinning stories in her head about how that was what needed to be done. To protect Hallownest. And she shut herself away from her emotions for as long as possible.
If this was Lace's first encounter with such creatures— creatures that mimicked the appearance of her sibling— then she didn't blame her for failing to fight. Hornet was confident in her abilities: She could fight for them both if she had to.
But after what must've been an hour-long cycle of finding a path, getting attacked by wraiths, killing them and continuing on, they couldn't continue. Sometimes, it seemed like they were back in the beginning, had to do it all over again.
After some long, futile toiling, Lace sat, knees to her chest, turning away from Hornet. Hornet couldn't ask, didn't know how to inquire upon someone's emotional state, so she simply sat with her and kept watch, lest more wraiths crossed them and threatened to whisk Lace away again.
A silk fly sat on one of Lace's round knuckles. She looked at it and hummed. It promptly flew away, toward an exit, and she let out but one sob. "Come back," she cried, "My voice is horrid, but you flies used to like it, I don't understand..."
"No, look," Hornet sought to point out to her, "These silk flies might show us the way. Come, let's find more."
Lace wiped her tears and got up, following Hornet on the way to more silk flies. Soon they found a few more, Hornet strung up her needolin, and Lace was forced to watch— a strange, quite literally captivating effect it had, the song of a Weaver. But it worked and the flies showed them the way to the Exhaust Organ, bit by bit. The last obstacle was the worst— a lake of muckmaggots with no way but to swim through. Hornet dove and used a spare cogwork wheel to act as a makeshift boat for Lace, which she held up for her in the water.
Lace hesitated: "You're not serious."
"I am!" Hornet replied, "Or do you have a better idea?"
Lace sighed and gently stepped onto the wheel. "If you drop me, I'm going to kill you," she remarked.
"I'm not going to drop you, don't worry."
Oh, but the thoughts. The foresight she inherited from her father allowed her to see every way this could possibly go wrong, from actually dropping her to her tool breaking midway, or Lace hitting her head against a rock from overhead, losing consciousness and falling into the bile. She couldn't help but think, ruminate, on all the ways this could kill her as she transported her across the water.
And as soon as it began, it ended. Lace arrived on the other side, and none of the things Hornet conjured in her mind have happened. The entrance of the Exhaust Organ was ahead of them— Hornet could barely get out of the infested waters before Lace dragged her inside.
The organ music they heard got significantly louder once they were inside. Cobwebs covered the walls— these, Hornet took to replenish her silk and push the maggots out her spinnerets, sending them flying in all directions, then flailing on the floor, as the pathetic larvae that they were.
"Watch it, will you!" Lace shrieked.
Hornet grumbled. "I had to swim in these waters only because of you, so you better not complain now."
Hornet took note of the age of the walls and the dust on the floor. A few drapeflies made their home there, chewing on the disintegrating rags scattered about. She shot them down before they could attack, and she would've sworn that that was the last flicker of life in this place if it weren't for the organ music in this place, which must've come from someone.
"I assume the one playing the organ is your sibling?", she asked.
"Yes, that's them," Lace confirmed and looked for the way up. Upon finding none except to climb the walls, that's precisely what she did, and Hornet followed her.
Hornet's heart almost stopped when she saw the pipes, shooting bouts of steaming hot vapor through the organ periodically. And Lace wanted through.
Oh no. Oh no. If Lace only messed up the timing, she would surely die. And it would be Hornet's fault. She couldn't let her die.
And if she took Lace into her arms and jumped with her, she could still mess up. She wasn't infallible, and this was horrible.
But Lace didn't think as much as she did. She jumped, and Hornet jumped right after, and they somehow made it through the first part alive. And Lace kept leading and Hornet followed, always looking for a way to save her if things went wrong.
But things did not go wrong. Finally reaching the center of the Organ, Hornet caught her breath. Lace, not needing to ever breathe, headed forward as confidently as ever, towards the source of the music. Finally, she spied her sibling! She might've ran faster than Hornet had ever seen her run, tackling them and holding them tight before they could even react. Even as they reacted, they were slow and stiff in comparison to her lively demeanor.
They were roughly of the same height as her, but their attire was tainted grey, some sort of tattered dress or tailcoat. They appeared to have black fur atop their head, though Hornet couldn't tell where their scalp ended and their fur began.
Lace cried into their nape, hugging them close, explaining between sobs and hiccups that Mother was gone, that they were free, and she had found a friend who could help them, and they didn't have to suffer anymore. They wiped her tears, unmoving otherwise, unblinking, either unfazed or so surprised that they could not react.
They finally asked: "Which friend?" Their voice was hoarse from lack of use, and a little bit too quiet at first.
Lace pointed at Hornet, who stood a good distance away from them, watching. "A half-Weaver," Lace explained, "But she's nice, I promise. She's not like the other Weavers. Her name is Hornet."
Her sibling chuckled. "She has a sense of humor then, I see? A spider called Hornet..."
"And you are?" Hornet asked.
They looked at her and said: "I never had the need for a name. But one with such ironic naming would be one interesting individual to name me, if you wish."
"...I was named by my mentor, who is dead," she responded dryly.
An inevitability, death. The mortality of bugs, of her loved ones, whether her mother, mentor, father, sibling, lovers, friends... whether in Hallownest or in Pharloom, one can never escape their own mortality.
"Well," Phantom pulled her out of her thoughts, "Surely they must've taught you a thing or two. Humor me, please."
"...Phantom," she decided, then elaborated: "You look like these ghosts outside, but the name of the Ghost is already taken."
They smiled— a weird thing, considering they have no visible mouth at all, only a slit with teeth the same color as their black flesh. "I'll take it. Phantom."
"So," Hornet proceeded in attempt to shake the thoughts of her dead family off like dust, "Is there a way from out here that doesn't involve muckmaggots and wraiths threatening to kill us?"
"There is an elevator here," Phantom responded, "Er, I think. It's been a while since I stood up from the organ..."
They stood up and Lace cringed as they did— something about the cracking of their joints, or the dust on their limbs that got shaken off upon their movement. They put on their broken, ill-fitting mask, and walked towards the exit. "And, say, spider," they proceeded, "You can see ghosts, or what are these 'wraiths' you speak of?"
"I believe they are a symptom of the air pollution within this place. They look ghostly, but they are made from silk," Hornet answered.
"How curious..," Phantom murmured as they pulled a lever, revealing an elevator. They stopped before it, exhaled heavy silk before stepping inside. Hornet and Lace followed. The elevator lifted them up.
Hornet watched the silken figure, and Lace clinging onto their arm. How unfazed they looked, it was... unexpected, to say the least. As though they had been waiting for the tram with their ticket in hand, instead of like a victim in need of rescue. The thoughts got the better of her and she asked: "Why are you so relaxed? This must be a big change for you, must it not?"
Phantom responded like a rusty automaton starting up its voice box after decades of unuse: "It... it is certainly a surprise." Their voice was monotone.
"Do you have a home? Where you can rest?"
"I cannot rest. My home is my prison and workplace, the Exhaust Organ."
"Duty binds you no longer. We can head to my bellhome over in Bellhart, and you can rest there if you wish, until we have arranged a proper home for you. Your sister can keep you company."
"As you wish."
Hornet blinked. As she wishes? No, this was about them. She wanted to be hospitable to them because Lace cared. "No, as you wish," she corrected them.
They looked away. "Ah," they said, nothing else.
They arrived at the Grand Bellway of the Citadel, and Hornet called for the Bell Beast.
They came, along with their cute little beastlings, their splitting image. Hornet helped Phantom and Lace on top, then jumped upon the Beast herself. "Hold on tight," she told them. Phantom stiffly held on, also trying to hold onto their pin and their mask at the same time.
Arriving in Bellhart, Hornet thanked the Bell Beast and their beastlings, and then helped Phantom and Lace down. Then up, towards the main area of the small town.
Pavo greeted them upon their arrival: "Welcome back, dear resident! You have brought friends I see, splendid!" He looked to speak to Phantom and Lace in particular, to welcome them, but shuddered upon seeing Phantom's stare. "Er... ahh... I see you need to rest, yes! This is a good place for all travelers alike to rest! Welcome to Bellhart."
Hornet thanked Pavo and showed Phantom the way up— they were more sufficient at climbing than they led on at first. Arriving on her doorstep, however, they did look exhausted and strained.
Hornet opened the door for them. "I recommend you take a bath first," she pointed to the humble bathtub installed inside— she didn't want them to sit on her bed or by her desk coming from Bilewater, who knows what grime might be hidden among their strings? Luckily, they agreed, and Lace helped them up into the bathtub as Hornet laid down in her bed, finally.
The sound of the water as Lace helped Phantom into the bathtub was soothing. The bellhome was a safe place. Lace was safe, at last, and she was within reach. Nothing could happen here. She was safe.
And after a long silence, Phantom, laying in near-stupor the entire time, began to hum. A hoarse, but soothing, low voice. A beautiful voice. On her travels, Hornet came to associate such songs with safety— Shakra, singing loudly in search of her master, or humming quietly, under her breath, as she drew her maps— or Sherma, singing prayers and songs of hope, always. The voices of the Citadel were choreographed, mechanical, even, but the bugs she met who sang for themselves, she grew to appreciate more than anything. And to hear their song meant that they were alive— well, even.
She really did it. Pharloom lives. Her friends live. Lace, and her long lost sibling, they live. For once, they live.
She heard some splashing, and looked up to see Lace snuggling into Phantom's arms. She hummed along with them— very quietly. This was the calmest state Hornet has ever seen Lace in— laying in Phantom's arms, leaning her head against their shoulder, arms wrapped around them.
"Hornet, pray tell, why are you watching us from afar?" Phantom asked, to Hornet's surprise, as they didn't look like they were looking at her at all. Before she could answer, they added: "Do me a favor, spider, come sit with us."
Hornet climbed up on the ledge next to her bathtub. Lace looked at her, still not leaving Phantom's embrace. Phantom breathed out fine silk and steam like it was smoke, and murmured: "A bug's comforts are in keeping each other company and feeling their shell upon one's own," their tongue clicking near-mechanically at every "k" sound. Hornet expected a request which never came, watching them as they breathed in more hot steam and breathed it out, along with their own silk.
"You're losing silk," Hornet commented.
"Oh well, such is life, isn't it?"
Hornet moved to touch them— patch them up, like she did with Lace after rescuing her— but they tensed up, pressed themself against the wall.
"Don't, Weaver" they warned, "Any fixings will only prolong my misery. Let me die here, it's so warm..."
She heard such things from Lace before. So she tackled them, pushed Lace aside, and they, disarmed, could only yelp and struggle. She settled on top of them in the water and began to sew. This death is preventable, as was Lace's. She would not let them die like this, especially considering the abundance of silk she had when she had time to spin it— in the calm of her bellhome, she could produce as much as they needed. She had time. She didn't have the energy, but that didn't matter. Even as her body ached from her sleeplessness, she couldn't let them die. Not for a selfish thing like that, not if it's preventable.
Lace would follow them right into their death, she feared, she never seemed precious with her life, never was particularly protective of it. But her life was precious to Hornet, and she couldn't let her die. Couldn't let her sibling die for fear that they would take her with them, and Hornet would lose yet another friend. Someone she cared about.
"Hornet," they said, "Isn't it time to rest? I'll live for a little while longer, as I always did..."
"No, you're going to die, and it's going to be my fault, because I could've done something to stop it. And there's blood on my hands, I am aware, but I- I have to..." She began to sob, despite her attempts not to. She is not to cry, she's not supposed to cry. She is supposed to be protecting people, and she's not supposed to cry when she cares for someone wounded. She curled into herself.
They hugged her gently. "My, spider, you must be exhausted. Sleep. I won't die, I promise. I'll never die on my own terms, it is my curse..."
She breathed against their shell. It was warm from the hot water they were both surrounded by, and it was hard and hollow. No heart beat inside their chest, but they were alive, to her. Nobody, nobody should ever tell them or Lace that they were nothing. They are their own bugs, oh, so strong bugs... How lucky was Hornet to be able to watch Lace grow, to even have the chance to watch her grow. She could've died, but lived against all odds. In spite of all odds, Hornet managed to save her. And the bugs of Pharloom live, everybody is... alright.
"There we go," they whispered as her breathing slowed, "I haven't met a living, breathing creature in so long, let alone gotten to hold one, this is interesting."
Lace settled back against them once Hornet calmed— not quite hugging them now (that would've been an embarrassing thing to do while the three bugs attempted to cram themselves into a bathtub clearly only meant for one), but still snuggling up against them.
"So you managed to defeat my mother?" Phantom asked, "What a feat..."
"I tried," Hornet replied and her breathing quickened again, "I did so much wrong in trying to defeat her, it could've been my death— Lace's death—"
Phantom shushed her and cooed. "Relax, spider, you made it out alive. You saved my sister..."
"There are bugs I couldn't save... I watched my friend, Garmond, die from the Void-soaked threads... and-"
"Nothing will hurt you now," they whispered, "Just rest. Staying awake for longer will do you no good, bugs need their sleep."
"But if I go to sleep, how will I know you're alive, you both? You don't have a heartbeat, Lace doesn't breathe—"
"—Then we will hum you a lullaby. Go to sleep."
Phantom resumed their humming, then, and both Hornet and Lace listened. A low lullaby, balm on Hornet's soul. Lace joined back in, her voice mixing beautifully with Phantom's. Only then did Hornet notice just how tired she was. Her limbs aching, her eyes burning from lack of rest. She finally chose to rest in their arms, fell properly asleep for the first time in months. Their humming was a pleasant reminder that they were still alive, so there was no need to keep watch, to make sure they wouldn't die. She heard them, she didn't need to look and check. She slept well that night.