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“Is there a home you can return to?”
The question lingers for a second longer on the hunter’s lips as she spoke. Hornet is not one to usually indulge into small talks, she meant no harm with her words and had asked only to please her own curiosity. But to get to know this insatiable creature who has been following her around for quite some time, she must cast some of her old habits aside. Not that she has ever refrained to, for the sake of survival, but to take risks in a fight is far too different than daring so in a conversation. Especially with a bug such as Lace, each spoken sentence felt like walking on shattered glass, where every step had to be planned in advance.
The spider regains her straight posture as she throws her needle in one of the ponds of Shellwood, impaling a pond skipper right in its back with a meticulous precision. The request from Songclave was rather simple: to gather food supplies for the pilgrims left harmed by the void infection. Sherma’s look was quite desperate on his mask as he would’ve gone by himself, but had no intention of leaving the bugs from the First Shrine to grieve without supervision.
“You have done so much for us red maiden, we will never be grateful enough.” He had said, feeling guilty for even considering requiring Hornet’s help once again. She had accepted the task without a second thought, still feeling most responsible for the great depression that stroke down Pharloom whole. As its saviour, it was her role to establish a safer land as a new beginning and to make sure its habitants could sustain themselves.
The question reaches the fencer’s ears, as her focus shifts from the white flowers. Still, way too different from her beloved roses.
A snarky smile grows on her lips, as well for a dull feeling on where her stomach was supposed to be. She despised this little “get to know me” game that the weaver has made up, just for the two of them. A total waste of oxygen, even though she did not need it.
She tried to expose the hunter’s true intentions between those lines: maybe she was seeking vulnerability through her threads and wished to strike the second she had let her guard down. Or worse, she might be looking for the flaws that roamed through her woven body, searching frantically for some torn strings to fix or rather to save, to feed her own ego with. Lace’s plan was to keep the mask on, lead this tiring play a little longer and maintain her disgraceful role, until the spider was finally gone for good.
“Oh why, spider dear? Growing bored of my pathetic shell already?” She hums, venom on her tongue, deadlier and sharper than her weapon. Turning her head slightly to the side, she knowledges Hornet’s subtle change in her breathing. Lace mentally congratulates herself for the successful teasing, selfishly glad of not being the only one to struggle with something new.
“It was not my intention to indulge into such conclusion. I was just wondering, nothing more.” Hornet affirms as she kneels down to carefully investigate her prey, making sure the supposed meat did not contain any kind of parasite. Lace analyses her movements, fixing her sight on the red cloak shifting loosely on the spider’s limbs. A bright distraction in the sea of green.
“The cradle was supposed to be my house, but you know…“ Lace provokes, the teasing smile still resting on her face.
“…But you did not feel safe there, right?” the hunter asks, her tone steady as always, with her back still facing the silken being. She then adjusts the neck of her cloak, leaping on a different platform, waiting for Lace to follow. And so she does.
“I have not felt safe in a while, dear spider” Lace answers, leaping on the platform gracefully, as if weightless. The grass barely quivering around her steps.
“Does that imply you used to have a place where you felt at ease?” Hornet asks, her voice piqued, taking the map in her claws. Not once she had tried to meet the white knight’s gaze. Lace, by her hand, holds the pin behind her back, clenching at it in both of her fists.
She is reminded of the Whispering Vaults, the broken elevator to the Exhausted Organ, the repulsive smell coming from Bilewater’s lakes of muckmaggots, and the broken keys left unheard. Eventually, Mother found out and sewed her anew, making sure she’d forget the very first reason why she used to venture there. However, the familiarity of that place kept hunting her, until Mother’s will prevailed on her mind. Maybe, Lace never had her own will to begin with.
“…No, I do not recall it” She admits, cocking her head to the side, unbothered expression on her face. “The Citadel always knew everything that occurred in Pharloom… Either way, no place here was truly safe under Mother’s power” The silken being cares to explain, lifting the golden pin on her shoulder.
“I must say, I am to believe that you would enjoy Hallownest’s peace.” Hornet seems to think aloud, a hint of hesitation in her voice. “Danger is always around the corner, but the knowledge of being the bigger threat keeps your mind clear”
“Are you suggesting of being Hallownest’s biggest threat?” Lace asks, mocking the hunter’s words. However, her response was not the harsh grunt she expected, but a rather light chuckle.
“I used to be Hallownest’ Sentinel, so yes, I was seen as a threat by most outlanders” The spider sighs, her lips still parted under her mask.
“Although… Even as a dead kingdom, Hallownest is my home still. I wish to return as soon as possible. I yearn for my lands” She says, mournfulness blooming in her heart. It ached of a kind not compatible to any of the physical pains she has ever endured before.
A few seconds of silence went by, before a diffident, sarcastic laugh filled the heavy air and found its way through Lace’s throat. Too many times Hornet had heard that fastidious laughter during their fights.
“How despicable of you, little spider, to speak oh so mindlessly… And here I am, hearing your story, it definitely does not fill me with pure enmity and envy… Unlucky for you, there is no such place in this decaying kingdom I might yearn for. It has never existed, because there was no meant for it to exist, don’t you understand? Mother would have known… And even if it did, now it’s gone, buried deep under the wreckage of the oh so holy citadel that you have brought down, with your filthy claws!” Lace loosened the hold on her temper, ignoring the burning sensation within each one of her strands as if they were about to snap, Hornet’s mask now fully turned. The numbness of its expression only making it worse.
The spider could see the hatred hidden behind those veiled eyes. And to think she once stood in the same position, it was humbling to see her old self in the monarch child’s demeanour.
“…Lace, please. I did not mean to-“ Her phrase got cut short by the girl, who furiously threw her pin into the small lake below them, catching a pond skipper right between its eyes. That hit tore most of its carapace, obliterating what could have been a sufficient meal.
“You should have left when you had the chance. If you are so eager to return, then feel free to do so! I won’t force you to remain either way!” Lace spits out. She then retrieves her weapon from the corpse, turning her back to Hornet.
“…We better drop these off” She murmurs, most to herself, dragging her feet along the path. Hornet’s glance follows her figure without a flinch.
-
Lace found herself staring at the bellhome ceiling through the middle of the night, with her hands resting on her stomach. Laying in Hornet’s bed felt uncomfortable at first, but when she saw the weaver’s back turned to her, she let out a sigh of relief. Now, with her shoulders against the mattress, she recalls what happened during these latest hours.
As soon as they returned to Songclave, Hornet had required for the silken being to rest, while she had to take care of one last commission.
However, Lace would have never guessed to see her descending from the Citadel’s crown with an entire bouquet full of roses. Her white roses. They were held together by a few strings of silk, it shined brightly emphasising the delicacy of the pale petals. Something to make amends for, or so she stated. Now they lay on the weaver’s desk, catching each glimpse of mere light that occasionally brushed against the bellhome’s door.
Lace picks at her fingers for a bit, subtly sighing to herself as she leaves her mind to wonder. Hornet has been unfairly kind to her during these past few days where they stuck together. The hunter was truly stubborn on seeing Lace’s “unique creation” as life itself, and would have done anything to make sure Lace saw herself as such, no matter how long it took. But with hundreds of experienced years behind her back, Lace knew that if Hornet was hardheaded, she was worse. Eventually, the spider will grow tired of her whims and return to fulfil this gratifying role of being Hallownest’ Sentinel.
She could always ask to travel together, after all… Nothing in Pharloom was holding her back.
Lace scoffs as she brushes the thought away, turning her head to the side, her gaze meeting Hornet’s bare shoulders. Her black fur almost resembling the darkness from the abyss. It happened often, lately.
Hornet’s back facing her.
Lace wonders why Hornet was not afraid of her, or at least of what could come from her. Maybe the latest events made her believe that all rivalries between them had come to an end. And after everything they went through, it was obvious for a bug to assume as such. Nevertheless, Hornet seems to overlook Lace’s intent, a fatal error for an hunter being. What made her so sure that she wouldn’t stab her right here, right now? What pushes her to firmly believe that Lace doesn’t have any actual right to affect or even end her fate?
Eventually, Lace notices that the answer to her questions lays right before her. She had unwillingly left a mark on the weaver’s torpid, weary life.
As a creation that was fully born from silk, Lace’s existence depended entirely on Hornet. If she truly deserved a chance at life, she needed the spider to weave her one. Hornet places her faith in the mere fact that Lace does not want herself dead either.
A grunt threatens to escape her throat. It seems like she had no chance to sleep tonight. She nibbles at her lower lip, trying to think about something else, find a distraction, anything.
Then, another sound, along Hornet’s stiff breathing, came to her ears. It was low, calming, constant. It followed a rhythm and she couldn’t help but notice. So she listens, listens and listens until it becomes a pesky, boisterous, piercing noise through her soft shell. The closer she’d get to the weaver, the louder it would get.
Something got stuck in her throat as she notices that this relentless mess came from within Hornet’s body. She slowly gets closer, her ear dangerously grazing against the hunter’s bare skin. She then stays still, listening to the incessant, soothing sound born within Hornet’s carapace.
It felt warm, almost intimate. Was she supposed to act like this? seeking affection from someone who took everything away from her, just to give it back? Mostly, the thought filled her with rage and frustration, repugnance even. So why, hasn’t she pulled back yet?
Then, Hornet stirrers. A deep huff came from her shell, as she sensed the silken girl presence on her back. “Pale one?” She murmurs, her voice still husky from her sleep, as she carefully sits up on the bed.
However, Lace does not dare to startle. She remains still as she feels Hornet’s glance on her silken form. “There is… something, within you” She breathes out, gathering all of her courage to stare back at the weaver’s mask as she sits up as well.
“It… beats, and it’s exhausting and fascinating, both at the same time… I am unable to describe it! It’s right here…” Lace whispers as her hand found its way on the hunter’s chest. This is too much, she had thought, I might cross the line…
Instead, Hornet’s claw raises to reach the one of the unsettled looking creature next to her. She rests her palm on the smooth hand tensing on her bust, as she weakly squeezes to reassure her.
“This, child, is my heart that you are feeling… It pumps the hemolymph through my body for it to function, and it keeps me alive. If it ever stops beating, then we n might have a problem…” Hornet explains, the tip of her claw brushing coyly on Lace’s wrist as if to caress.
“Guess I’ve heard of it… Tough I believed that godly beings like you did not have the need for it… And if I have to say, some of your actions made it impossible for me to think otherwise” The girl teased, while meaning to take her hand off the spider’s chest.
However, Hornet held it close by firmly grabbing her wrist. “It is not an argument suitable for mocking, pale one…” She points out rather roughly, making Lace squirm slightly as she immediately regrets her words.
“…You used to have one too” Hornet confessed, after a few moments of silence. Lace only looked at her in confusion, hinting and waiting for the hunter to continue. “I… Took it after our duel in the cradle. It was… No ordinary heart, and seeing you laying there defenseless I… truly believed your life was the cost for your devotion” Hornet exhaled and closed her eyes, waiting for an harsh response from the silken being as an heavy burden fell from her shoulders. Such sheer information is not easy to learn, such mere fact could disrupt the fencer’s reality to pieces. If Lace wanted to kill her right now, she had every right to do so.
Instead, the harsh response never came, as Hornet felt the gentle pressure of something fluff on her neck. Lace had rested her head oh her shoulder with her ear against her chest. If Hornet didn’t know better, she’d swear that Lace was only trying to hear her heartbeat better.
“I don’t care… Not anymore… Mine was not beating, right? Which makes it kind of useless, if you ask me…” Lace points out as she smiles to herself “What’s the purpose of an heart if not to beat, since it did not even keep me alive… It makes me believe I was never meant to be even more-“
“Lace” The weaver stops her, clutching at the wrist in her claw bashfully “I feel the need to strongly disagree… On the other hand, since you survived without the silk heart, I am confident you were meant to exist no matter what… As if to overcome any tragedy leading on your path-“
“Overcome any tragedy? With a body this delicate? Oh darling don’t make me laugh! My whole existence is just a big and foolish contradiction… The most perseverant will within the most fragile construct… How am I even suitable for one single task-“
“I believe it makes you suitable for everything that you wish to accomplish” Hornet mentions as she stirs. “It may be hard to see, but two opposite things can create a balance very often” She states, looking down at Lace, who says nothing in return. “It doesn’t have to happen now, but I do have faith that you are strong enough to do anything you wish for. Besides, your body still managed to survive two of our fights and an infection from the void… You should really give yourself more credit. Most do not make it”
Lace sighs as the spider managed to stop talking. She wasn’t wrong, but the whole discussion around her own self felt draining and overwhelming, the topic deplorable enough to make her drop her little tantrum.
“I know, it’s not your fault Mother sew me this way… Sort of” Lace mentions, after the room got quiet enough for her to be comfortable. “All she has ever craved for was your power, and our devotion alone… It gave her something close… ” She titters, looking down to her body.
“…Would you believe in the ingenuity of a God? Her cluelessness made her arrogant, selfish… So much that she believed she could stitch a daughter born from silk only… and nothing more.” Lace smiles sourly, biting down at her lower lip to maintain herself steady.
“Her obsession disguised as esperance drove her mad, and she did not consider twice what creating me would have led to… And it backfired oh so gracefully! Was it a mistake of hers not pondering of the consequences for me to have a mind of my own, or the need to have a daughter was simply so high that it made her blind, I wonder? But the more I reminisce it… The more I believe my thoughts were not meant to be just mine…”
Lace exhales after what felt like hours of apnea. She had just revealed her true self in front of Hornet, the only bug in their whole world that was supposed to be nothing but a foe, the furthest possible thing from a friend. She had let her mask drop, revealing an insecure husk full of doubts behind the facade of the perfect looking wight. Yet, Hornet sits still. Her mask might have been numb, but her eyes conveyed comprehension and beyond, making Lace feel confident about her words and almost… Worthy of those emotions. Understanding, is the word she has been searching for… That look nearly made her feel naked like a normal bug, if only she knew what that could be like.
“…Mistake or not, her flaws do not define you, child. Yours is a detached will, you do not possess her sick mind, neither her desire to control or to oppress. You took a great risk by freeing me from your mother’s grip, and it tells me everything that I need to know. It’s a reason to believe you could make a major impact for Pharloom wellness, more than I do. You are not your mother, just as I am not my father… I have brought nothing but despair to these lands, caused by my naiveness. I am supposed to know better” The weaver’s gaze lingers around the room, the air now thick with resentment.
Deep down, Lace felt proud of Hornet. Proud of everything she had done for Pharloom, proud of everything she had done for her. Proud for providing her hope, something she never expected to have without tasting bittersweet feelings. Proud of the bug she could become if they just stuck next to each other.
“Oh, so you do admit it! That, for once, you have made a mistake?” The white knight teases, trying to lighten up the mood.
“I have committed plenty of them, pale one” Hornet reassures, lowering her gaze on the girl’ silken hand, still brushing over her chest. “But saving you, and giving you a chance at life, never should be seen as such”
Lace let a small chuckle escape from her lips, even if it sounded more like a whine as she tried to defuse the gloomy smile from her face. She’d wipe away her tears if she had them.
“But you miss Hallownest, your home… As its Sentinel, your heart lays there-“
“With all the bodies of those I once cared for. That is why, that role… It no longer belongs to me. We must look forward to a future that shines brightly for Pharloom, and I will do everything in my power to obtain it. And I will need you, pale one… Your strength and perseverance. Assist me in such wish, will you, child?” The hunter asks, confident, as she firmly grasps the fencer’s hand in her calloused claw.
Lace says nothing in return. She weakly nods, lowering her forehead in the crook of the spider’s neck. They sat still for a while, before eventually laying down onto the mattress. Lace does not change her position as she rests her head on the weaver’s chest, letting the calm yet steady beating of her heart to lull herself to sleep.
At that moment, Lace realises she has never felt so safe. And that maybe, just maybe, home is wherever the spider goes, with her heart still beating.
But to admit it, would be a total different story.