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“I’m impressed, little ghost.”
Hornet stood at the foot of the Black Egg. Only one more seal, that of the vigilant Watcher, could cast its light out from the billowing orange haze that spilled from the cracked entrance. One more seal until the Infection would lay bare before the kingdom. The precipice of deliverance—one final nail in the coffin before the moment of truth would be wrought.
She paid it no mind. Her eyes turned, instead, to the tiny bug standing beside her. It looked down, avoiding Hornet’s gaze, as one hand placed itself over its chest. Despite the Vessel’s carapace already boasting an astounding blackness that swallowed the darkness of any other bug, underneath its hand did Hornet spy an even grimmer abyss, one that beat and pulsed somewhere inside the Vessel’s body. Night itself seemed pale and glimmering in comparison to that tiny spot—a blackness so choking, so absolute, that the mere thought of it gave Hornet pause.
The Void Heart. The power of the Abyss, united as one.
Hornet’s gaze flitted from the Heart to the Vessel. Its gaze sat fixed firmly on the floor.
“You’ve burdened yourself with the fate of this world, yet you still stand strong,” Hornet went on. “To break the Dreamers’ seal would alone be considered an impossible task, but to accept that void within yourself—that casts you as something rather exceptional.”
Exceptional indeed, Hornet mused. Against odds that she herself could hardly even fathom in her mind, the little Vessel had picked up the pieces of its family’s broken past and built something impossible: A cure. A real, true antidote to the Infection—and not one that would prolong Hallownest’s stasis, no; an equalizer that would bring balance to a land off-kilter.
One that, beating in the heart of the Vessel, would doubtless come to fruition despite the being’s… shortcomings.
“I’m scared.”
The message left at the top of the Abyss had persisted in Hornet’s mind from the moment she laid eyes on it. Two words that said everything, carved with lines that wobbled like the foundation of the kingdom. A premise so harrowing it filled Hornet with relief to turn her eyes back to the Void Heart.
With the Abyss locked tightly in its chest, everything would work out. It had to. Perhaps the very malfunctions that led to the Vessel’s fears were the same ones that spurred its convictions to confront its very nature.
Still, though, it left her wondering.
The Vessel looked up from the earth to meet her gaze. She knew now that something lurked behind those eyes—it was only her who could not see.
In that moment, however, she wanted nothing more than to have a look.
“Little ghost.”
The Vessel stirred in response to her summons. It was listening. Hornet tilted her head.
“I… saw the carving at the edge of the Abyss.”
The Vessel promptly dropped its gaze. Refusing to be turned away, Hornet took a knee, bringing herself down to its level.
“Fret not, little ghost. The Void Heart in your chest assures me utmost of what’s to come. You have made the right decision; of that, I am certain.”
The Vessel grabbed the frayed edges of its cloak and wrapped them around itself. Hornet leaned closer.
“I simply wish to know one thing.”
The Vessel lifted its head just enough to spare Hornet a meek, sidelong glance. The princess tilted her head in response. When she next spoke, it was with a softness that even she didn’t quite expect.
“Why are you scared?”
The Vessel’s response was not immediate. For a few moments, it simply stood there, huddled inside its mossy shawl, as if attempting to hide the truth. Hornet found herself cursing her own idiocy—the Vessel couldn’t answer, even if it wanted to. To ask it anything at all was utter folly.
Then it raised a hand. And in the blackness, a light burst forth. The sudden flash was so great that Hornet recoiled backwards against her will. Her prized needle briefly slipped from her grasp as she threw her arms over her eyes. But despite its vicious strength, the light died down as soon as it left, leaving the distinct sound of a soft, spectral chime ringing in the air.
When Hornet’s eyes recovered from the sudden assault, they fixed themselves upon the Vessel… and promptly flew open in shock. There, in the little knight’s grip, hung a bright lavender blade that flowed with a ceaseless energy. In the kaleidoscope that swirled along its surface, Hornet could clearly make out the sigil of the long-forgotten Moth Tribe.
There was no mistaking it. That was a Dream Nail the Vessel held at its side. A Dream Nail that, as Hornet watched, its wielder lifted to point at her.
In what would have normally been a duelist’s pose, Hornet saw instead her question beckoning. Eyes wide, she placed a single trepidatious hand on the Dream Nail.
As soon as she did, her answer rang silently in her mind.
I’m scared of what’s waiting for me.
A vague response from a being who had never spoken in its life. But the way the thought pulsed in Hornet’s mind, she knew exactly what those words meant.
Her shoulders suddenly felt heavy. This time it was her who dropped her gaze to the earth.
She’d had nothing to fear, she realized. Any other timeline and she would have recoiled in despair at the Vessel’s frail answer. Here and now, though, where the path had been paved and her long-dead hope glimmered bright, she let herself think her own thoughts. The feelings that she brought to her own heart made it ache.
I don’t want to say goodbye.
Hornet gave a start. The Vessel’s voiceless words rang between her ears again. This time, however, the wavelength had changed. It was quieter. Quicker. Colder. It occurred to her that these new words were not meant for her, but she kept her hand on the Nail nevertheless.
Brave Quirrel. The old Stag. Sweet Myla. My dear sister… I don’t want to say goodbye.
Hornet’s stomach twisted at the words. A pain stabbed at her heart, one she had nearly forgotten. One she hadn’t felt since she’d last laid eyes on her mother.
I wouldn’t have to if I had just stayed pure… Why couldn’t I? Why couldn’t I just stay pure?
The ache in Hornet’s chest swelled. Her grip on the Nail tightened.
What did I do wrong?
An explosion burst forth from Hornet’s heart. With trembling hands, she reached out and snatched the Vessel up in a tight, frantic embrace. The Dream Nail vanished in a quiet flash as the Vessel readily returned her near-forgotten gesture.
“Nothing, little ghost,” she whispered. “Nothing at all.”