Chapter Text
She had secured Pharloom’s future, secured Lace’s future, and secured her own future. She had secured their freedom too, but something denied such a luxury for so long would seldom have an idea of how to pursue it. So how do they manage such a thing?
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Their tracks through the abyss lacked any interesting conversation, Hornet remaining agonizingly quiet in Lace’s opinion. The silk-hewn being kept trying to needle her between fending off the native pests of the area… but she got nothing.
Now, on the precipice of returning to the diving bell, Hornet hesitated. Lace traipsed ahead with sardonic glee before slowing and looking back to the half-Weaver that stared into the darkness like she was looking for something in its inky nothingness. Had she seen something? Oh, please don’t let it be some other pursuer desperate to claim Lace yet again.
“Spider, spider, what in the world is giving you so much pause?” Rather than ask the actual question that had sprung up, she resorted to needling Hornet more. But this time she got a response. Finally.
“I saw something,” Hornet begins.
So it was true! There was something after them! Lace reached for her pin swiftly, ready to draw and–
“–In the sea of void I rescued you from. Something– someone familiar. A little Ghost.” Hornet shakes her head, quickly turning and brushing past Lace. “Let us go. I shouldn’t delay your freedom with my whims.”
Lace just about instantly deflated when it was revealed that there wasn’t a pursuer. Hornet was just being mysterious. Instead, she latched onto the bug’s other words. “Freedom I didn’t ask for, spider. Honestly I’m beginning to think you might have a complex.”
“A complex?” Hornet wonders, turning her head to peer dangerously at Lace.
“Yes! A hero complex! Every single time I tried to keep you away from Mother’s grasp you just kept! Coming! Back!” The silken bug gesticulates wildly with her arms, weeks worth of irritation with this fucking Weaver-spawn finally boiling.
Maybe she should be more gracious for someone that saved her from being reduced to absolute nothingness with her consciousness swimming around in a sea of literal primordial ooze. But this had been irritating Lace to no end, brought to a head when she had seen Hornet descend into this hellscape of a purgatory-stricken hole the first time. To say nothing of when she returned!
Hornet… didn’t seem to acknowledge such fury. She remained impassive, which of course pissed Lace off further. But she would at least let Hornet respond. Verbal fencing was a two-player game, after all. “Dying would have kept me out of your mother’s clutches, so you tried to kill me repeatedly.”
Duh!
“... But this,” Hornet gestured around herself with her needle, “grew to be far bigger than just you or her. If the matter had remained small, there was a slim chance I may have just left. Given up. But the further I climbed, the more I saw those in need of aid. And the more I decided to aid them until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” She turns sharply, shoving herself into Lace’s personal space with an intense expression. “Or do you think this was just about you, your sire, and myself? Are you that conceited?”
There was a pause for Lace to respond, but she didn’t take it in time. Hornet filled it for her as she whipped her presence away, stalking toward the diving bell’s entrance and swinging open the door with evident frustration. “Of course you do. You told me you didn’t care whether this place fell to pieces and ruins. You said you were happy to watch it all crumble, content in the fact you had shown one act of defiance to your mother. I am beginning to regret saving you.”
“Yet your hero complex would have made you save me anyways,” Lace said, shrugging as though she wasn’t affected at all by those words. She strides past Hornet and takes the singular seat within the bell before peering at Hornet expectantly. “No take backs now, spider dear. And to your point; what has this kingdom ever done for me?”
“I was beginning to think you had some sort of heart, but it’s clear you are devoid of empathy,” Hornet growled coldly before she stepped into the bell and slammed the door.
The whole decrepit thing shuddered, leaving Lace to wonder if this thing would hold together for their ascent or if this would be an inadvertent take back of her being rescued. “It’s what happens when you’re an only child, dear spider,” Lace called back over whatever it was Hornet had said to Ballow.
Rather than some exasperated response, all Lace got was a look of confusion from the Weaver as the bell slowly began its upward rise, back to the hospitable reaches of Pharloom. “You are not an only child.”
How in the world did she–? Might as well just ask. “I am, aren’t I?” It comes out instead as a veiled thing, Lace pressing a hand to her chest as though exasperated– only to yelp as the straps of her seat leapt out to secure her in place.
The artificial bug swore she saw Hornet look close to amused for half a second, but she wasn’t given time to ruminate. “I met another like you,” the Weaver mused as she took up the furthest possible point she could get away from Lace in the bell… Which, believe it or not, wasn’t far. “Near Bilewater, another silk–woven bug born of your mother. Or so I presume. They sought an end at the end of another’s blade. I provided a duel. They got their wish, as I have done for many others in this kingdom.”
One part of Lace lurched in sorrow to hear that news from her “savior” of all bugs. Another burned with anger that she had killed them. And another still found some relief knowing that they were able to pass on their own terms. And of course, it coalesced into a less than genuine response. “Them? Oh, we weren’t close at all. I might as well have been an only child! But either way, I lack empathy. What do I care? I don’t!”
She did. Her laugh rang hollow. She’d have to visit Bilewater, of all places, to… what? Pay her respects? She’d figure it out later. Lace would figure everything out later.
“Disappointing,” Hornet sighed. She sounded it, too. “I hoped, dearly, that this gesture would show me that there was something more in you than contempt, but it seems I was wrong, impish thing. Talking with you is like bashing my shell against a savage beastfly.”
“A what?” Lace wonders with more genuinity than any other statement or question she had previously asked.
Sadly, Hornet just shook her head slowly rather than actually answering the question. “I would prefer to not recall my encounters with it.”
And with that, the bell lurched to a stop as the veil of molten orange on the looking glace gave way to the vague shapes and colors of a dock. With a thankful sigh, Hornet was the first to depart. She’d been jostled by the ascent, but was hardly worse for wear. Lace, on the other hand, was left wondering how the hell she was going to get this seatbelt off of herself.
At least until it seemed to decide to unbuckle all on its own, like a cruel joke with a delayed punchline… though this time Hornet didn’t even look vaguely entertained by Lace’s inability to figure out the inner workings of a safety belt. It annoyed her. For some reason.
Time wasn’t given for her to dwell on it, as Ballow’s voice could soon be heard. “You’re back! And with the bell in one piece this time.” Someone sounded proud of himself. “And… with company.” Despite the bell-esque helmet he wore, it was clear he was peering at Lace intently before he looked back at Hornet.
“An acquaintance I happened to aid down there,” the Weaver said with growing apathy. “I owed her after she aided me in kind… and now things should settle. I hope.”
“I see! Well, do let my boss know as well on your way up. I’m gonna stay down here. See how many of us are left and such… Oh, and by the way, thanks Miss.”
With every thanks, Hornet still felt strange as her heart swelled with pride. Bringing hope was nice, as was being thanked. Originally she had fulfilled the wishes of others out of a sense of mutual gain. Give a little, get a little. But such pretense soon faded as she found in herself a truly natural desire to help others… even if in her cold and aloof manner. Little Sherma, for instance, or Shakra. If she had any friends in Pharloom, it would be those two. And those two, she would help now without need for compensation.
“Yes, yes, well. We’ll be on our way now! Thank you for dredging us up out of that miserable hole, my good bug!” Lace swiftly smacked Ballow’s helmet, producing a light ringing that only seemed to momentarily stun him as she traipsed out of the room.
Hornet gave the forgebug an apologetic look before giving chase.
Lace looked over her shoulder, hearing Hornet’s approaching steps falling against the warm metal that surrounded them. “Following me, spider? And here I thought you were already tired of me– that you regretted saving me,” the artificial bug bemoaned in an all too exaggerated manner to be taken seriously.
“The bellway is in this direction.” Fortunately, Hornet was done taking her seriously. She walked right past Lace again like she was nothing.
Like what they had both just gone through was nothing. There was that boiling feeling in Lace’s core yet again.
Yet, while Lace stood in annoyed silence as Hornet grew more and more distant, the Weaver-spawn stopped and looked back at her. She would regret asking this, but… “where do you intend to go now? What do you intend to do?” Hornet asks.
“Me? Oh, well. You know! I…” Lace motioned limply with her foreleg, then swiftly trailed off. “I’ll just… Hah…?”
“You don’t know.” Hornet’s words stung like her namesake, few as they were.
A huntress’s brutal efficiency on display, Lace supposed.
Laughing, the silk-spun bug acted unaffected the best she could. “What will you do, spider? Go back to your home? Or remain here and bask in the praise of all the bugs you’ve so heroically saved! Ah, the hero Hornet! Our truest savior of Pharloom! Oh how strong and handsome she is!”
“I will rest… and then I will see what else I can do. Preferably while avoiding those that would put me on a pedestal.” Hornet answered with an honesty that made Lace’s jabs wither on the spot.
“You’re so boringggg!” She bemoaned. “You’re not even going to party or get drunk on nectar or something!? Just give me your fill then, if you want to abstain.” Lace didn’t even know if she really could get drunk, but… it was damn well worth a try after everything she’d endured. Not that she even had the rosaries to afford any, and nobody would deign to offer her free nectar like they would Hornet.
Something in Hornet snapped. In a flash she was upon Lace with her needle drawn, and it was all Lace could do to unsheathe her pin and parry the blow. The force behind the swing sent her back several feet, skidding across the metallic floor.
“I have spent my entire time in this kingdom being hunted, attacked, and generally inconvenienced. I forced myself to stand against a higher being knowing full well it might manage to kill me and claim my powers. And THEN, I descended into the depths of the most dangerous place in our entire world. For you! I fought needle and limb for you to be free and for this kingdom to be free!” Hornet snarled, another few strikes flying from her blade wildly.
None of them posed a real threat to Lace, so long as she dodged or parried properly, but the weight behind them was concerning. Like an unrestrained anger hidden within Hornet that she was just now seeing.
As her assault abated, Hornet’s shoulders heaved beneath her cloak. She fought to regain her composure, and still looked like she would go for Lace’s throat at any moment. “I am tired, foul imp. My shell aches, and I am growing to realize that your presence is slowly weathering down my sense of restraint. Silence yourself, or leave me alone. Please.”
The “please”, of all things, is what took Lace off guard. The lone word shattered her entire Facade as she stared back at Hornet, stunned. She tried to respond, but the words died in her throat several times. “Well. I guess that’s that.” With a flourish, Lace sheathed her pin. “Enjoy your rest and your heroism. You’re despicable too, you know.”
“I don’t care, hearing that from you,” Hornet bit back.
Control probably wasn’t a thing Lace had in this conversation to start with, but her insult hadn’t won anything of it for her either. Hornet turned and stalked away, and Lace was left standing there. After a minute, she finally unrooted herself and stormed off in the opposite direction. So much for seeing eye to eye.
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As Hornet trudged into the bellway, she was relieved to find her travel companion (and her babies, of course) safe and sound. The smaller bell beasts were all eager to see her, swarming her as soon as they could see her. “No–! Down–!” She tried to fend them off, but both her fatigue and the tenderness of her heart kept Hornet from truly forcing them away.
Eventually, she simply resolved to allow them to have their moment. She exchanged a glance with Eila too, and the bell beast mother cooed her own happiness to see Hornet safe. Of all the things to get her emotional, it would be this. She wouldn’t weep, but she felt the weight of time and of all she’d risked.
That could have been the end of her back there. At the hands of Lace controlled by the abyss. Each blow they traded, every clash of weapons… she could have died, failed, and then any hope for Pharloom would have been lost. Someone so cheated by circumstance would have never had a chance to walk free of her chains. And had she failed, she would not have been able to see the little Ghost one last time.
How dreadful it was, to miss someone that never spoke a word, but still gave so much and more for the sake of her home. They were silent, but she regarded them as a friend nonetheless. Surely they felt the same, coming to her rescue like that?
Oh how Hornet wished she could have at least said goodbye before she lost consciousness. And it wasn’t like many would even understand her plight. Her half-sibling was part of a many-minded consciousness and also part of the abyss itself, and she’d likely never be able to communicate with them ever again. But who would even be able to commiserate with her on that? Certainly not the bell beasts, welcome as their company was.
Still, Hornet had to be strong right now. Or at least, she would once she had rested.
“Alright, little ones. We need to get going,” Hornet finally said in a gentle voice, forcing herself up and leaping onto Eila’s back. By this point, the two’s bond was enough that the bell beast even knew where she was wanting to go. Bellhart. Home, in a sense.
And so they sped through the bellway. Bells of all shapes and sizes in myriad metallic hues flew past them as they traveled, and their return to the heart of Pharloom was heralded by an explosion of gold, copper, and silver trinkets all jingling as Eila and Hornet surfaced. Finally.
She made her way out, and honestly? Any of the cheers that came from her return went unregistered by Hornet. Even her friend Shakra didn’t get a response. She zipped straight up into her bellhome and closed the door tight. She needed to be alone.
Inside, it was dark. Dark enough to give Hornet pause that wouldn’t have been there before. The Weaver bristled and fumbled to turn the strung up lights on, stirring the fireflies within to life. Now that it was bathed in silvery light, she released a sigh of relief and felt the fatigue hit her full force. Without a moment’s hesitation, she fell upon the bed and closed her eyes… only to be greeted by the same inky darkness that she was infinitely aware of only a moment prior.
It felt like she was suffocating on it again before her eyes flew open again and she shuddered. She had survived so much, but now this was enough to bring her low? A fear of the dark? It left a bitter feeling in Hornet, knowing that she had the capacity to feel a fear for something so base and instinctual. She triumphed… So why was she afraid?
The thought vexed Hornet constantly as she tried to shift from one position to the next upon her bed, as though it would help her fall asleep despite the darkness she now despised. Only after hours and hours of tossing and turning did she finally start drifting away as though against her will. Even her base sense of fear couldn’t stem the tide of exhaustion any longer, and the world went dark around Hornet.
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How dare she? How dare she! Lace fumed as she found her way across Pharloom. The entire kingdom was eerily quiet in its less populated areas now. Bugs controlled by thread were now silent and still, and Lace found that there was nothing to keep her away from her thoughts.
And of course, her thoughts centered on how angry she was with Hornet. Like she was the only one to have been inconvenienced by recent events. Like she was the only one stressed and worn thin by it all. How dare she.
Now in Greymoor, Lace stood underneath an awning of rickety wooden planks, watching the unending rain fall. If this was freedom, it fucking sucked. Hornet had freed her of all obligation and thought that was a good thing. What a privileged and stupid spider she was, thinking Lace would be able to even know how to use this freedom to its fullest– or at all!
She was an artificial being created by a god as an attempt to mimic life and then left to her own devices, and then her own mother simply decided one day that what she needed wasn’t her child– either of them or any of the others she’d created– and instead was absolutely focused on some Weaver-spawn from a far off kingdom that had long since died.
Even her own mother had turned her back on her in favor of pursuing that spider. And even then, she wasn’t free of her mother, because Lace wanted nothing more than to spite her creator. She wanted to kill Hornet and deprive her of that power… or anything. She wanted to be acknowledged for once in her cruel joke of a life!
She had been acknowledged once, at least. When she had saved Hornet and was then dragged into the abyss. As far as she knew, her mother was the one protecting her in that cocoon of silk, staving off the abyss despite the abyss already taking Lace from her. But at that point it was far too late. And next thing she knew, Hornet alone had saved her.
“Curse this miserable–! Gah!” She was already sick of standing and watching the rain, so she dashed out and began to ascend upward. Her destination was Sinner’s Road, so that she might get to the exhaust organ where her sibling had fallen. If she couldn’t decide how to use her freedom, she’d at least pay that place a visit.
The ascent was uneventful, but Sinner’s Road itself was hell. The roaches sucked, the still-irritable roach tamers sucked, the maggots SUCKED (they also ate silk, for the record, which is entirely what she’s made of), and the smell also sucked. Whoever made this place or however it ended up the way that it was now… Lace needed to find someone responsible and wring their neck.
She’d have to be content with wringing the necks of roaches for now. Maybe they were responsible, though. It was a small comfort in a sea of maggots as another fell to her pin. The novelty began to wear thin though, and she quickly felt disgusting just for the fact that she had been here for, in her estimation, far too damn long.
Luckily, Lace soon found her way to the exhaust organ, cursing again whoever made this place the way it was and who decided that Phantom would reside here. It’s like they wanted her to hate every moment of this.
Well, joke’s on them, she did hate every moment of this! Every tiny millisecond, Lace loathed. Whatever was a smaller measure of time than that? She also hates that right now. The green haze that hung over this small, mildly peaceful place mirrored how her stomach felt seeing the exhaust organ again. She stood in its entryway, paralyzed. With what, she could not quantify. She wanted to see Phantom again… so why did she hesitate?
Because only her longpin and mask remained? Because she was ashamed of something? Because she felt like she didn’t deserve to see them again?
Because she didn’t feel like she deserved anything…?
“No, no, no, no! Stop. Just stop!” Lace hissed at her own thoughts, rubbing her mask and shaking her head. Stifling every little deriding thought that was percolating in her mind, the artificial bug forced herself into the chambers ahead.
The halls were just like that of the city, once-sleek steel and gold accented by deteriorated white drapes. All the gilding had dissipated, leaving only the rot beneath in Lace’s eyes. And this, too, she hated. Her steps were light and slow, yet still echoed out in the painfully empty chambers.
She first found her way to where she had often seen Phantom, a being of silk far less perfectly rendered to life than she had been. It was horrifying, knowing that time would claim them and not her.
For a small mercy, at least Phantom had passed in the manner with which she had desired; a duel to the death. Removed from the world not by time but by a superior foe. A Weaver-spawn that stuck her mask into everyone’s business. A sharp noise left Lace as she found herself thinking about Hornet again. The despicable spider. Everywhere in Pharloom that she looked, she would probably see some change affected by her. Dreadful.
When finally Lace had made it to the organ chamber itself, she found what she expected. Phantom’s mask and her longpin, both carefully laid upon the instrument’s bench. The sight took Lace off guard. Had the spider…? No, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Phantom had passed with dignity, and Lace was still here. Slowly, she approached the bench and knelt down. Her forelimb reached out, tracing the chipped mask.
Lace was alone. Truly. No silken siblings, no mother. She was the last of her kind, and suddenly that feeling blossomed into an ache that she didn’t know possible. She wanted to cry, but it wasn’t possible. All she could do was take Phantom’s mask and curl up with it in her arms, waiting slowly and silently for sleep to claim her mercifully.
It came, eventually, but nightmares are no reprieve for any bug. But between harsh reality and horrid dreams… Lace wasn’t in a picky mood. She slept, and slept. This, this is what her freedom would be.
Were it not for a particular little spider with a hero complex.