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The Everbloom. A flower that shines brightly in the darkest of darks. A fragile, yet beautiful thing. Long forgotten by the world, living in the memories of those old enough to remember it. Its unique white petals are a light in the black, a beacon of hope. How resilience blooms in it, as the fangs of void shiver in vain attempts to devour everything they reach.
Does it recognize its beauty? Its special nature?
As Hornet strikes her needle, she holds onto the flower, gripping the stem tightly with her claw. It is her only light in this abyss, only promise of protection. She can’t lose the light… she can’t lose this battle. Another poke parried by her swift opponent. The flower still rests firmly in her grasp.
In the whirlwind of slashes Hornet barely has a moment to steady her breath or to collect her thoughts. Only the feeling of the duel burns through her mind, screaming at her to be faster, be more precise. A dash after another, sliding through the pool of black void in an attempt to get to her, to strike her. The black splashes in all directions with their tiniest moves, clouting the weaver’s vision just a little. Splattering and clinking of the pin and needle fill every crook of her body.
Lace, almost lost to void, gathered her strength at the bottom of the world to battle Hornet one last time. Her white silken shell faded into the darkness, abyss ensnaring the very thread that is her form. She wields the void as masterfully as her pin, commanding it to trap the weaver, end her attempt to rescue this kingdom. But the sheer will of Hallownest’s daughter is able to get her through the tiniest openings in Lace’s attacks.
Every scrape dealt by Hornet’s needle allows her to peer past the black which coats Lace’s shell. Underneath it is the pale form Lace so despised, thinking it to be a heinous form. Spun from the Pharloom monarch’s silk, could she even be considered life? Hornet’s answer to that question never changed. Hers was life, her unique creation was life. Her will and wit, her rebellious self — that was always life, something so special. How unfortunate that Lace never saw her being as anything to value.
How Hornet wished she could get this thought into Lace’s mind. Maybe then, just maybe, this kingdom wouldn’t suffer the fate that it did. Though, they are both to blame for void spreading through Pharloom. Hornet’s foolishly placed trust into the Snail Shamans and Lace’s little act of rebel. This fight was the only chance for her to undo her grave mistake. She saw how the void got inside this kingdom’s bugs silken shells, forever dooming them to a life no longer. How bodies morphed into amalgamations, bound by threads filled with the ancient power. Even if she succeeds, if she saves Lace from this abyss, will Hornet’s action ever be forgiven? Could she forgive herself? No matter the answer, she does not wish to bear witness to another land’s perish.
Jumping over a pool of wild void, Hornet closes the distance between her and her opponent. She keeps her gaze stuck on Lace, as does the other. No strike, no kick or jump escapes her sight. Their weapons clash, Hornet can feel Lace’s strength, her resolve in the way she presses her pin against the needle. For a brief moment, their gazes met. Lace’s frustrated frown shined in Hornet’s determined eyes. A sight Lace couldn’t stand for long. She retreated with an angry groan, gripping her pin even tighter. She lunged into the abyss underneath them, and Hornet had a second to catch her breath.
Not far from them laid this kingdom’s ruler, its pale monarch. She screamed and wallowed, her struggle sometimes felt even at the highest peaks of the holy Citadel. It only served as a reminder of how spread her silken threads were and how easy it was for this calamity to take over. The ground shook and the void writhed. And here, in this place, created by Grand Mother Silk’s remaining strength, her power is felt even greater. Her body is overtaken by void, yet she desperately clings to life. This chamber at the bottom of the world, her struggles… they were all for her, for Lace. Her beloved daughter. If she was not trapped here with her, Grand Mother Silk would long be dead, forgotten. And Hornet with her. Should she be thankful for this turn of events? Hornet wonders.
Lace reappears from behind, and the weaver has just enough time to shield with her needle. She starts to see some cracks of weariness in her opponent. Her attacks, though still fast, are getting slower and she hides in the waves of void more often. Hornet could almost feel it, the finale of the fight brought by the tip of her blade. But she doesn’t let her mind wander too far away. She is still in the Abyss, fighting for this kingdom’s life. For Lace’s life.
If only you could see, child born from silk. There’s always hope, there’s always a reason to live. If only to break away from the fate your birth has chained you to. No matter how suffocating it is, one day your path will bloom into a beautiful garden, if only you would step onto the road. Perhaps, someone would even share it with you.
With every crack in Lace’s strength, Hornet hits harder, hits faster. Her entire body screams in pain, but she still wields it to slash and stab, over and over again. Like a perfect mechanism, she didn’t waver, finding power in her every movement. Lace parried and parried, her body quivered from Hornet’s resolve. Until she finally cracked under the hits, leaving a perfect opening for the weaver. One single slash with the needle and Hornet sees it, the pale shell she’d thought she’d never see again. Here, amidst the dark void, it shined even brighter than at the bed of roses they fought at before. Lace howled in pain, her voice echoing through the chamber. She stumbled, falling unconscious on the floor.
For a split second, Hornet thought she imagined it. Their fight was finally over. She quickly rushed to Lace’s side, turning her head towards her. Her eyes were closed, her body weak from exhaustion. The void retreated from her as Hornet picked her up. She felt light at her claws, but she still held her gently, like she could break from slightest impact. Hornet finally got to see Lace in her familiar form, free from the abyss’s corruption. A feeling of relief gathered at her chest, though this was from over.
She peered into the void above them, and she felt its gaze on her. To travel back Hornet would need an immense amount of power. The Everbloom at her side was growing weaker, its petals withering away. Would it persevere during their journey back? Something Horner couldn’t answer.
At last, her gaze turned to Grand Mother Silk. The monarch looked at her, her blank face seemed no different from the dark abyss around them. Hornet called out to her, but no reply came. Instead, the pale being shifted in the pool of black, lowering her head. Silk started gathering around her body, making its way to Hornet’s claws. The last bit of the monarch’s strength filled the weaver’s body. It was a power unlike any other. A feeling like she could make this jump back to the surface. It was but a small glimpse of hope, but it was growing stronger. The thought made her bring Lace closer to her, holding her as tightly as she could.
When Hornet threw her needle upwards, there was a short moment when she felt her whole body freeze in anticipation. And when the moment passed, Hornet used all the power she gathered to lunge through the waves of void above them, the trusty Everbloom repelling its starving claws. There was nothing but dark surrounding her vision. But holding Lace so close to her was a form of solace. It was unlike Hornet, but at that moment, she prayed. She wished to return safely, to save the fragile life she was holding onto so tightly. Lace was so eager to throw it away. A desire Hornet could not stand to see fulfilled.
The way back felt like it will never end. Hornet felt her losing the strength she had, yet there was still no glimpse of the surface. Everything around her — black like ink, like the darkest night. No, even darker. Darker than dark. She felt her mind getting more hazy. Her body slowly succumbed to exhaustion and the abyss was there to claim it. Her grip loosened and Lace drifted away from Hornet. She caught one last glimpse of her and the last petals of the Everbloom as she passed out.
Her mind was empty. She heard stories of one’s life flashing before their eyes when they passed away. Hornet thought it would be the same for her. She wished to remember Hallownest for one last time. Even the most tragic moments of its history, of her story. She stood sentinel to one dying kingdom, and brought a calamity onto another. Not even a wounding guilt like that visited her at what seemed to be her last moments. There was truly only emptiness inside her mind. And.. perhaps a tiny, fleeting familiar presence. A familial presence.
Hornet’s senses returned to her body, even if not for long. She felt something, someone by her side. Someone who guided her body towards the light. Her sight was blurry, she could barely see her own red cloak, much less her savior. But it was so obvious that she could allow herself to drift into unconsciousness once again. For she knew she was safe, even in such a place. It was not a feeling she felt often, but one she will make sure to remember. It’s unlikely they will meet again. She hoped that her sibling could sense her gratitude.
When they reached the surface, Hornet felt the weight of the whole world on her. Her limbs ached horribly and her mind was at a thousand places at once. She desired nothing more than a rest, away from this dreadful Abyss. But a single thought made her body jolt, looking around in all directions in search of the pale shell. And there she laid, her back facing Hornet. She was about to stand up when Lace twitched and Hornet froze in anticipation. Lace sat up, peering into the void not far from them. To think they were in there mere moments ago… that this darkness could’ve claimed both of them. The possibility scared Hornet, even though now it will never become true.
She tried to inch closer to Lace, when she suddenly turned her head around, meeting Hornet with a piercing gaze. She felt like that look alone could kill her in an instant. But soon, Lace’s shoulders relaxed and her expression softened. She started with a weak giggle, which soon turned into a laugh. It echoed throughout the room and Hornet’s mind, becoming its sole melody. She was mesmerized by how soft and earnest her voice was. It was nothing like before.
How long has her body been trembling? She held out her claws for a moment, tainted by indecision. All these feelings and regrets crashed onto her as a giant wave. In a brash movement Hornet leaned in to embrace Lace. She laid her head on her shoulder, as she wrapped her claws around her back as tightly as possible. Lace immediately quited down. She relaxed slowly, letting herself get used to the touch. Only their breaths disturbed the silence that came after.
Death is an everlasting presence. One, whose wraith Hornet witnessed her entire life. One she could never escape or defy. No matter what she had done, death’s grasp would always hover over whoever she deemed precious. But at that moment, for the first time in her life, she held someone whose fate she could alter. Her claws and needle had finally granted life, not ended it. And for however long she can, she will cling onto this feeling.
After some time, Lace returned the embrace.