Disclaimer: RWBY and Hollow Knight do not belong to me. They belong to RoosterTeeth and Team Cherry respectively.
Chapter 12: The Memory
Let me be free...
As she walked the halls, the servants bow.
It irritated her more than it should. By now, countless times had the importance of stoicism been pressed into her. Yet no matter how hard she tried to emulate the standards set for her, that ever present flame crackled inside her. She had inherited her mother's spirit, people often said. Very rarely was it a compliment.
That annoyance that burned fast and bright inside her grew worse the longer she stayed here. Here, with its pristine white halls and ever present light. Clean. Sterile. Stiffing. Despite having lived here for years, it was more a prison than a home.
Did she even have a home, anymore? Had she ever?
Soon she stood before great doors. She glared at them, taking a step. The guards crossed their blades to stop her, and she felt her temper flare.
"Move aside," she commanded. Her tone is cold and overbearing, and she hates how much she sounds like her father, which only serves to further fuel her anger. Had the guards not been her father's, perhaps they would've moved aside.
But they were her father's. They would be eternally loyal, or as loyal as such artificial beings could be.
If the guards noticed her grabbing her blade, they didn't react.
The guards were her father's, and he could always create new ones.
Though her weapon's edge was thin, it was razor sharp. The guards crumpled, collapsing into pieces onto the floor. Seconds later the doors flew open and she strode in. Here the light was almost blinding. Her father looked up from whatever he was working on.
"I Thought I Told You Not to Disturb Me."
Despite his polite tone, she could feel his displeasure like a physical weight crushing her. Her father's voice, even at its softest, felt like commandments more than words. It was a voice meant to be listened to and obeyed.
She kept staring at him. Father's displeasure only grew as she showed defiance, the light growing starker.
"Father," she tried to keep her tone civil, "We must speak."
"Hmm," her father made a pose, as if in deep thought, "Strange. If There Was A Need To Speak To You, I Would've Called For You."
"Father-"
"What Is It That You Want Now?" her father hummed, "Is It More Of An Allowance? Something Else? I-"
"I wish to go to the City."
One could have heard a pen drop in the silence that followed.
"I Was Not Aware That Anyone Had Asked For You," her father sat up and narrowed his eyes. She tried to meet his gaze. They both knew that no one from the City would've requested for her. Not anymore.
"I wish to go to the City," she said once more, "To help the citizens-"
"To Help Them?" Father sounded genuinely confused, and she was almost fooled, "By Existing Within These Walls You Already Help Them. One Day You Will Take On A More Administrative Role, But Today Is Not That-"
"The Kingdom is dying!"
Her father's glare grew. He disliked it when voices were raised. Found it beneath him.
"Day by day, the Kingdom marches further towards destruction. The citizens fall further into despair, and they look to us for hope! We must do something!"
"We Already Have Done Something," her father stood up and turned around to admire the what hung behind him. A tapestry depicting the knighting of the Kingdom's greatest warrior. The very sight of it irked her to no end.
"You mean you have your plans!" she snapped, "You must allow me to at least help where I can!"
"I Am Not Beholden To Your Little Fancies, Daughter," her father hissed, "I Am Not Required To Grant Your Every Wish And Whim. What Is It That You Are Seeking With This Little Stunt Of Yours? Fame? Admiration? Devotion?"
"Only you care for such trifling matters!" she scoffed, "It is my responsibility to help them! Not that you would understand duty!"
This was the wrong thing to say.
The force of her father's anger had turned him incandescent, the very pressure of it sending her to her knees. His footsteps echoed as he walked towards her, stopping right before her.
"You Dare Speak To Me About Duty? After All I Have Done For This Kingdom? After All I Have Sacrificed? What Could You Possibly Know Of What I Have Done To Ensure Our Success? You Are Nothing But A Spoiled Child!"
She forced herself to meet his eyes, a nearly herculean task, in time for him to slap her. Something cracked, and the world turned black.
Let me be free…
"To think that this little slip of a thing is responsible for all of this."
"Now now, that's hardly fair to the new Wielder. It is not her responsibility alone...
"Ahhh! You have come back to us, Wielder."
Weiss awoke with a start. It took a moment for her vision to focus, and even when the soft purple ceiling came into view there was something not quite right. She tried to move her arms, to rub her face, and found that she had been swaddled in mauve and violet blankets. Fuzzy lights swung slightly overhead, and as Weiss propped herself up, the various pillows underneath her shifted, almost sending her falling again. Everything around her was muted and fuzzy around the edges.
Sitting by Weiss's feet was the Seer. The old moth was fiddling with something. A closer look revealed it to be silk, being woven into what looked like a scarf.
"You again," Weiss mumbled, coughing as she did so. Her throat was scratchy and raw, and she couldn't stop coughing. The Seer put down her knitting and reached to the side to grab something.
"Here, Wielder. Drink," the Seer soothed, pressing something that felt like a flask into Weiss's hands. Weiss drank, not expecting that what would fall out of the flask was honey. The sweetest, richest honey Weiss had ever had. It was as if one had condensed the entire season of spring within it, and Weiss nearly coughed it back up. She managed to keep it down, clearing her throat and smacking her lips.
"Thank you for that," Weiss rasped.
"Aaahh, it was nothing, dear Wielder. It was the least I could do," the moth said, taking the flask from her hands. Weiss absently tried to wipe the sand from her eyes, only to find a cloth bandage covering the left side of her face.
"Wh-What happened?" she asked, the warm feeling from the honey quickly vanishing.
"How much do you remember, Wielder?"
Weiss frowned. It had been the ball...and then-
The memories of Grimm, of the Sanctum, of Hornet all hit her at once. She winced, resisting the urge to pick at the bandage. Now that she knew it was there, her left eye had begun to itch.
"We were fighting with Hornet, and...I fell unconscious," Weiss looked around, "Where's the Hollow Knight? Where's Yang?" she asked, trying to keep her tone calm.
"Ahhh, not to worry, Wielder. Your friends are safe asleep, in the waking world."
"...I'm asleep?"
"Indeed you are, Wielder," the Seer gave a little chuckle, "Tell me, what else do you remember?"
"...I had the strangest dream," Weiss began, "About my...childhood, I think. But it wasn't...right," she sighed, "I'm not making sense."
"Dreams are a fickle thing, Wielder," the Seer said cheerfully, "Perhaps you found yourself in another's dream!"
Weiss frowned at the Seer's words, but they no longer irked her as they had when she had first met the moth. In all honesty, she was rather glad to see her once more.
"I have a lot of questions for you," Weiss began, sitting up straight.
"Ahhhh. I shall do my best to answer them, Wielder."
"What is this "essence"?" Weiss began immediately, "You had told me to gather it, but how can I do so without knowing what it is?"
The Seer hummed in thought for a moment. Before standing up. Weiss could hear her joints creak, and noticed how unsteady the old moth was, and quickly offered the Seer her shoulder for support.
"Ahhh, many thanks dear. This old body of mine..." the Seer trailed off into soft chuckles, "Ahhh, but to answer your question...Follow me, Wielder."
Slowly, and with little grace, the two of them managed their way out of the Seer's comfy den, the Seer holding her hand for support next to her. The old moth barely reached her hips. Weiss gaped at the scene she found. She hadn't been sure exactly what she had expected to lie outside. Still, the landscape gave her pause.
By now she thought she had gotten used to the world of Hallownest, in all its subterranean glory. But the cavern she now stood in was clearly not natural, and not in the way the City of Tears or the Soul Sanctum hadn't been natural. For the walls, the floor, even the very ceiling of the cavern she stood in now was made of stone masks. Countless, innumerable stone masks. Some were small enough to fit in her hand. Others loomed over Weiss, and were even bigger than the Hollow Knight. The masks beneath her feet were smooth and nearly worn into oblivion, giving the ground the feel of cobblestones.
"Where...are we?" Weiss whispered. Under the gaze of those seemingly infinite masks, it seemed...wrong to speak in anything louder than a whisper.
"These are the Resting Grounds," the Seer's voice was louder than a whisper, but even it seemed to be swallowed by the atmosphere of the cavern, "Home to Hallownest's dead."
"You mean this is...a graveyard?" Weiss asked, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
The Seer hummed.
"Yes. Wielder, I do not know how your people handle their dead. Here in Hallownest, whether or not their remains are present, the dead sleep in the Resting Grounds," the Seer suddenly laughed, startling Weiss, "Ahaha...I will not claim these grounds were ever lively, but once, the living came from all parts of the kingdom to conduct rites for their dead."
"What do the masks..." Weiss trailed off, not sure if the question she was asking was at all polite.
"Each mask here represents a soul, now forever dreaming."
The two of them stood in silence for a moment, the Seer comfortably and Weiss antsy, looking at the countless masks that made up the Resting Grounds in a different light. It was...nearly unfathomable, and Weiss was struck by how old Hallownest must've been in a way that hadn't hit her before.
"Essence," the Seer began, "is the precious fragments of light that dreams are made of. Bring forth the Dream Nail, Wielder."
Weiss did as the Seer commanded. Right away, she noticed how the spectral blade's light was different. Miniature flower shaped glyphs, bright white gold, bubbled from the Dream Nail's ever shifting blade.
"Ahhh," the Seer sounded pleased, "Very good, Wielder! You've gathered a good deal of Essence." The Seer held out a shaking claw over the ethereal weapon, humming. Weiss felt a thrum of warmth coarse through her body from the weapon at the same time the Essence coating the blade's edge flashed and fused.
"Now the Dream Nail has grown sharper. But it can grow sharper still, needs to grow sharper still!"
"For what reason?" Weiss asked, tearing her eyes away from the Dream Nail's glow.
"To awaken the Nail's true power," the Seer said, "Only will the Awakened Dream Nail be sharp enough to cut your realm away from the waking dreams that now cling to it."
"That's another question I mean to ask you," Weiss let the Dream Nail fade, "Why has this happened? What has caused Hallownest to be connected to Remnant in such as way? You sent me off before you could answer me," Weiss tried to keep irritation out of her voice. By the way the moth chuckled, it hadn't worked.
"Ahhhh. Do you remember what I said, Wielder? About the waking world and that of the Dream?"
"You had said that the two realms had been closed off from each other," Weiss began slowly, "And that, should I try to return to Remnant, creatures from Hallownest might follow me." She frowned. "I suppose that explains why Remnant and Hallownest are connected to each other, but it doesn't explain how I reached Hallownest in the first place. If the two realms had been closed off from each other, how could I have ever reached Hallownest in the first place?"
The Seer was quiet for a moment. Before sighing.
"Ahhh, I appear to have confused you in our previous discussion, Wielder."
"What do you mean?"
"The Dream is the realm between body and soul. Where what was, what is, what will be, and what never was all exist together," the Seer said, "It is a realm separate but connected to the waking world. Like prints in the dust, the waking world leaves its imprints in the Dream. Often in the form of the memories of places...or people long gone."
The gaze of the masks of the dead around her grows heavier.
"You mean the dead."
"That which is long forgotten in the waking world," the Seer corrected, "Wielder, my words have caused you to believe that the Kingdom of Hallownest and realm of Dream are one in the same, separate to the waking world of your Remnant. But a Kingdom is finite. The Dream...is endless."
"What are you getting at?" Weiss asked, voice hushed.
"The Kingdom of Hallownest, much like your Remnant, exists within the waking world. Or perhaps it would be better to say, it existed once. The place you stand now. The place you were stranded in. From where you cut free, and in doing so unleashed magic great and old upon your world. This is not the Kingdom of Hallownest. It is...merely a dream of it."
Weiss crossed her arms, trying to ignore the chill that slithered up them and into her spine.
"But, that doesn't make any sense!" she finally cried out, as if Hallownest or whatever this place is had made sense to begin with. "Why did I end up in this, this dream then!? How is it that these creatures, or dreams, or whatever end up in Remnant if they are dead?! The Hollow Knight certainly seems alive and real to me! As did Hornet, and if I might be a bit rude, you as well!"
Weiss had worked herself into a proper rant by the end there, only for the Seer's laughter to stem the tide of irritation.
"You have spirit Wielder! And you are nearly as sharp as what the Dream Nail might become!" the Seer laughed, "Ahhh, but still you are mistaken in some ways. I will answer what I can, Wielder, but know that in the long history of my tribe nothing like this has ever happened!"
"Your...Your tribe?" Weiss asked, blinking.
"Yes. The Moth Tribe," the Seer's voice grew hoarse, "Of which I am the last."
"I'm...I'm sorry," Weiss began, chagrined.
"Do not be, Wielder," the Seer shook her head, antennae swishing, "Ours was not a violent end, not anymore than anyone else's. Indeed, for the old crimes we had once committed, it was the end we deserved."
"What happened? What old crimes?"
"The Moth Tribe lost itself to age, Wielder. Time itself…" The Seer seemed to loose herself in old memories, "We were a passive people. Only a handful ever took up weapons. It is said that we were born from a light. A light like that of Essence, of even the Dream Nail, but brighter still. Once, we were content to bask in that light. To honour it. But..."
Weiss remained silent, waiting for the Seer to continue.
"But another light appeared to us, one day...A wyrm. A king," the Seer shook her head once more, "How fickle we were! To forsake the light that spawned us! To...forget it. Thus the Kingdom of Hallownest was born from that betrayal. The King of Hallownest entrusted my tribe with tending to the graves of the Resting Grounds. Penitence for that old crime."
"But you helped him!" Weiss couldn't help but interrupt, "Why would he punish you?"
"Ahhhh...A punishment it might have been. Perhaps even the Wyrm was disgusted with us. Or perhaps the King knew that of any tribe, it was the Moths who were best suited to care for that which once was," the Seer shrugged, "Perhaps it was both. The King of Hallownest was clever and crafty. Sharper than any blade. It was his greatest strength, double edged though it might have been. Ahhh, but that is a different story. We turned our backs on Her. The light that spawned us."
"Her?" Weiss asked, alarmed. The memory of the voice that had screamed at her that faithful day she summoned the Hollow Knight hit her like a sledgehammer.
"So you too know her..." the Seer mumbled.
"I...I heard a voice. When I summoned the Hollow Knight. When...I appeared here."
The Seer was silent for a long moment.
"Ahhh..." Weiss was struck by how old and tired the Seer sounded in that moment. Before she could say anything the Seer shook her head. "No matter. I wondered why I found myself in this dream, of all places. Perhaps our penitence is yet to be complete."
The Seer stared up at Weiss.
"I have much to speak with you, Weiss Schnee. But before I do so, I must ask you to do something."
"What?" Weiss asked, keeping her tone gentle if cautious.
"Below us, deeper into the Resting Grounds, are three things. The first is a great door, just below us," Weiss turned her head and saw the great door the Seer was speaking of, "My tribe closed it long ago, and forbade its opening. But I am the last of the Moths, and taboo meant little to me. I opened those doors for the previous Wielder of the Dream Nail, and I will open it to you as well. I ask you to head deep into the glade that lies beyond those doors, and to find the shrine my ancestors created. There you will find a charm that will help you in your journey. Ahhh, but," the Seer tilts her head, "you should save that task for last. First is yet another charm that will aid you. Especially seeing as how you are without a weapon."
Weiss felt heat flood her face and can't help but mutter, "It's not like I had been expecting to be caught up in all of this. Tonight was supposed to be a simple party!"
"Ahahahh!" Some life had returned to the Seer's voice, "One should always be prepared to defend themselves when they live a life such as yours, Wielder. The charm you shall find in a small cavern further below will be of great use to you should you find yourself without a weapon once more."
Weiss nodded, curious as to what these charms could be. Ren's explanation had raised more questions than answered.
"And the third task?"
"Somewhere within the Resting Grounds you will find a root," the Seer began, "A whispering pale plant, filled with Essence. It would behoove you to gather that Essence."
Weiss nodded, noting that for all the Seer had made the tasks sounds like a favor, they all were for her benefit.
"I will do so."
"Ahhh, good," the Seer shook herself, "I will be in my little den, waiting for you. When you return, I will explain to you what I remember."
"Will you be able to-?"
"Ahahahah! I am not so old Wielder," the Seer said, in contradiction to reality.
"If you are sure..." Weiss began.
"I am, though I am heartened by your care."
Weiss nodded, and the Seer turned around to hobble back into her den. She made sure the old moth reached her den before she moved. Remembering the Seer's words, Weiss ignored the doors and leapt off the perch that the Seer's den laid. The Resting Grounds was, for the most part, a vertical cavern. Platforms of stone mask littered the area, creating what could have generously been called a staircase. Bordering these platforms were intricate metal fences. The designs wrought in them gave Weiss a pause, and she admired them for a moment. The patterns were not at all like those she'd seen elsewhere in Hallownest...Or Hallownest's dream.
Weiss couldn't help but wonder if, for all the Seer's words, the moths did not forget their past so completely.
Weiss found the cavern before she found the plant. It was a slim opening in the walls of the Resting Grounds, nearly invisible in the gloom were it not for the trickle of honey pink light escaping it. Managing to squeeze through it, Weiss found herself in a cave so small she was forced to crouch lest she hurt herself on one of the many stalactites. Even here though, the floor was still made of worn stone masks. She could hardly comprehend the amount of dead that they must represent.
The cavern eventually ended in a large circular room, large enough for Weiss to stand in. While the ground remained composed of masks, the walls were now stone carved into the flowery shapes of the Dream Nail's glyphs. In the center of the room stood a large rock, with that same flower design carefully carved into it. Soft pink light fell from a hole in the ceiling, illuminating the stone and causing what sat in the flower's center to sparkle.
It was a pin, much like the charm that Ren had found and the ones that Hornet had worn. A metal glyph flower sat upon the pin, but with many more petals than the flowers carved into the cavern room. The petals themselves were sharper and triangular shaped. Weiss, not without some hesitation, took the charm from its pedestal. The pink bronze metal the pin was made from was warm, as if someone had held it close for an hour. Weiss nearly dropped the charm as it thrummed against her aura.
"So this is a charm..." Weiss muttered. She recalled the way Hornet had worn her charms in the fight, and brushed her thumb across the edges of the charm. After a long moment, she put the charm in her dress's pocket rather than pinning it to her chest.
'If I really need it, I can always equip it later,' she thought, making her way back into the main cavern of the Resting Grounds.
'Now time to find this plant...'
Let Me Be Free…
"Are you sure it was wise? Telling her all of that?"
"I do, and I plan to tell her more. As much as I can."
"Why? That light...You know what she is."
Weiss found it near the bottom of the cavern, in plain sight. However, she nearly missed it due to its strange appearance. It didn't look like any plant she had ever seen before. It was not pale, despite the Seer's description. Its colour was more a red plum. Its body was marked with crisscrossing black lines, ending in several drooping branches. Weiss squatted down, for the plant was about the size of a shrug, to get a closer look at what hung from those branches. It wasn't flowers. Nor was it fruit. Whatever the bulbs were, they looked astonishingly like the patterns that Weiss associated with the Dream Nail and was now beginning to link to the Moth tribe.
"How...curious," Weiss muttered, reaching out to touch the plant. It was tough and rubbery, with a texture like a tuber. And its twitched under her touch. Weiss snatched her hand back, and watched with a wide eye as the branches quivered.
"Okay," Weiss took a deep breath and shook her hand, "Okay," Another deep breath, "For the Essence..." Weiss trailed off, wondering how she was supposed to gather this Essence.
After a moment of thought, she stood up. After brushing dust from her dress, she swung her hand out. The Dream Nail coalesced in her hand, brighter than before, and she swung.
The effect was immediate.
The plant began to grow at an alarming rate, reaching Weiss's chest in seconds. Its branches, once dropping, now rose like the tendrils of an alien anemone, the bulbs at the end glowing with deep pink light. Before Weiss could react, or the Dream Nail could fade, the bulbs burst. A cascade of red pink glyphs, near incandescent, fell from the branches and flowed into the Dream Nail. Weiss held fast under the deluge, holding the phantom weapon with both hands as its edge flared. Like flames fed with new fuel.
In her mind, Weiss heard the voice from her dream whisper.
'Dead remembered...Penitent Moth...Dreams revered...'
Weiss sucked in a startled gasp as the well of Essence ran dry. The plant, once low and plum, now stood taller than here and looked all the world like a pale tree without leaves. Standing near it, she felt static skitter across her aura, and heard unintelligible whispers in that same voice.
'...Just another question to ask the Seer,' Weiss thought, closing her eyes and calming her heart.
'Now onto this grove...'
Let Me Be Free…!
"I knew what the previous Wielder was when that little shadow walked in here."
"That was different."
"Is it? Perhaps it is only through working together despite our history, that both Hallownest and we shall gain resolution."
Her first obstacle in the grove was not even five steps in.
Weiss could see the rest of the glade, made of smooth grey stone and not an inch of vegetation of sight. And all that separated her from it was a pool of clear blue water.
It wasn't dirty water. On the contrary, it looked purer than any water she'd ever seen before. The problem wasn't that. The problem was...there was no way to cross the pool but to ford it at its shallowest portion.
Weiss stared at the pool for a moment before slapping her face a couple of times.
"You are the Schnee Heiress and a Huntress in Training!" she told herself, "You will not be stopped by a pool of water!"
Seconds later, having slipped her heels off and stepping into the pool, Weiss regretted it. The water was freezing. Even with her aura protecting her, warming her, the cold still sunk into her sharp as icicles.
"N-Never. Again!" she ground out as she made her way to the end, hugging herself in an effort to stop shivering. With how dress clung to her, it was an exercise in futility. She wished that her aura was something like Yang's so she could dry herself off just by flaring it.
"W-What I wouldn't g-give for s-some f-fire dust," she chattered.
"The bugs within this glade are under my watch..."
Gooseflesh sprung across Weiss's body, and it wasn't because of the cold. Weiss looked around wildly, and saw nothing.
"H-Hello?" she called out. The charm in her pocket grew heavier.
"Treat them with respect and you may remain..."
Weiss hesitated, before fishing the charm from her pocket and following the direction of the voice.
"...but raise your nail and you'll contend with me."
Still she found no one. Nothing, but a small gravestone. Still hugging herself, Weiss stared at it and found that she could read it.
"Revek," she read carefully.
"I assure you wanderer-" Weiss's shoulders rose as she felt a presence behind her, "My nail is sharp and I'll not hold back."
She whirled around, and found nothing. With shaking hands, Weiss pinned the charm to her chest. She felt the charm siphon off a nearly innoticeable shard of her aura, and watched in wonder as a shield, shaped like the design on the pin and made of bronze pink light, bloomed into existence and began to slowly revolve around her.
Tentatively, Weiss pulsed her aura, and watched as the shield flared out, razor petals flaring before coming together again.
She'd never given much thought about the afterlife before. She certainly hadn't believed in ghosts before all of this. Now though...
Feeling more at ease under the protection of the ethereal shield, Weiss turned around to continue into the glade. Before she did though, she hesitated.
"...I promise I mean no harm to you or the glade," she said aloud. For a moment she felt incredibly foolish. Then she felt the presence once more, not quite gentle but not nearly as sharp as it had been before.
Weiss managed to make her way well into the glade, passing by countless gravestones and watching her shield spin lazily around her, before she came across the next pool of water. It was much larger than the pool at the entrance, deeper but just as crystal clear, and fed by several small waterfalls. The tentative hope that she wouldn't have to ford this deeper pool was dashed when she spotted the archway and staircase hidden behind the largest waterfall.
"Curse me and my big mouth!" she lamented, before squeezing her eyes shut and stepping into the pool.
The shield did nothing to keep her warm.
Let Me Be Free…!
"If that is your judgment."
"It is. And be truthful, you must know that she is different from the Wyrm."
"One hopes she will stay that way."
"Ahhh, Wielder. You have returned!"
The Seer tilted her head at Weiss, antennae twitching, before tutting and gathering a blanket in her arms.
"Come, come, you are freezing Wielder!"
Weiss sighed as she wrapped the blankets around her. She wasn't sure if it was magic or plain old warmth, but she felt infinitely better under the heavy cloth.
"Thank you."
"Your kind is not suited to the cold?" the Seer asked.
"Not cold water," Weiss frowned as her teeth kept chattering, and forced herself to speak normally.
"Ahhh...My apologies, Wielder."
"It's fine," Weiss stared at the Seer, and tried to compare her to the moth statues she had seen in the glade's hidden shrine. Those statues had stood tall. Proud, almost regal in their bearing. But...the atmosphere the shrine had exuded had been...aloof in a way. Lonely. The statues features had been worn with age, some nearly into oblivion. The Seer, stooped with age as she was, was a far more comforting presence.
"I've completed the tasks," Weiss said.
"Ahhhh. You have gathered the charms and the Essence?"
Weiss nodded, the two charms she had found sitting in her pocket.
"Brandish the Dream Nail, Wielder, so that I may sharpen it."
Weiss did so, and watched as the Dream Nail's light filled the Seer's den with bubbling light that became brighter as the Essence that danced across the weapon's ever shifting blade melted into it.
"You said you would explain to me what you can?" Weiss asked as the Dream Nail faded.
"I will Wielder," the Seer hummed thoughtfully, "You spoke of a voice you had heard before summoning the Hollow Knight."
"Yes," Weiss tried to recall what the voice had screamed, "It...She was angry. Furious," Weiss said with a wince.
"She would be," the Seer muttered.
"Who is she?" Weiss asked, leaning towards the Seer.
"Ahhh...She is the old light. The light before the Wyrm," the Seer's voice had turned into a whisper, "The first moth and ruler of the Dream Realm. She is the Radiance."
As the Seer uttered the name, the lights in her den flickered despite not being electrical, and Weiss felt the eye under her bandage throb. The power of the Dream Nail, which Weiss had just been getting used to and recognizing as separate from her own aura, thrummed and buzzed under her skin.
"Radiance?" Weiss repeated. Her voice was practically a soft exhale.
"The Radiance," the Seer said in the same soft tone, "You are already familiar with the Nightmare King, Wielder."
"You know Grimm?" Weiss asked, a bit alarmed.
"Ahhh...The Old Light and the Nightmare King…The two could be considered twins, in so much as Higher Beings could be so..." the Seer's voice buzzed, as if she was clearing her throat. Before she began to sing.
"The expanse of dream in past was split,
One realm now must stay apart.
Darkest reaches, beating red,
Terror of sleep. The Nightmare's Heart."
As the last note faded away, Weiss mulled over the lyrics.
"So they're like the Brother Gods."
"Ahhh? Does your own world have Higher Beings?" the Seer asked.
"I supposed you could describe them as such. There's an old fairytale about two brother gods. The elder was the god of light and creation. While the younger was the god of darkness and destruction."
Weiss frowned. If Hallownest had this Radiance and Grimm, then those old fairytales of Remnant might not be just stories either, she realized with a start.
The Seer's words brought her out of her mulling.
"Ahhh, a startling similarity. Though neither is older, the Radiance and the Nightmare King are the two rulers of both halves of the realm of sleep. The Old Light ruled over the Dream, before...before our betrayal. And the Nightmare King holds domain over the Realm of Nightmare."
"So..." Weiss collected her thoughts and theories, "Is this all a game between the two? The Brother Gods, in their stories, often had competitions between themselves. To prove something or another. Often times they used mortals as their game pieces."
"Ahhh. I am afraid that this is no game Wielder. Though the two realms are forever apart, there is no animosity between the two," the Seer made a contemplative sound, "If I remember correctly, while my tribe came from the Radiance, the Moths also recognized the Nightmare King's power. Not worship. But recognized. The Radiance...She was our Queen. The Nightmare Heart was King to his folk, no matter where they might have come from. Before Hallownest, our two tribes might have even coexisted. Though I cannot be too sure."
"Did the...Wyrm target Grimm too?" If so, Weiss couldn't necessarily blame the King of Hallownest. Despite her misgivings as to what he did to the Moths, the way the Seer had described it had been her ancestor's own decision. Weiss couldn't pretend to understand why they had forsaken their own God. Why would anyone?
Perhaps the Radiance was more like her sibling than was comfortable. If Weiss was Queen, she certainly wouldn't be happy with Grimm's presence.
"Ahhhh, no. By the time the Wyrm appeared to my ancestors, the Nightmare King's folk had long left to roam the wastes. With the exception of the Old Light, the Wyrm did not encourage worship of other Higher Beings, nor did he discourage it. So long as one recognized his authority and power, the Wyrm was content. It is how tentative peace was eventually fostered between Hallownest and the Mosskin, and why the Mantis and the Deepnest continued to vex him till the end..."
"I...see," Weiss shook her head. "So if not animosity, why are both the Radiance and Grimm...meddling?"
"Meddling?" the Seer barked out a short laugh, "I would never think to use such a word to describe the actions of Higher Beings."
"Oh, uh-"
"No need to apologize Wielder. It is a good word. I cannot pretend to know what the Nightmare King wants," the Seer's voice turned grave so suddenly that Weiss was hit with whiplash, "But I know all too clearly what the Old Light is after."
"What?" Weiss breathed.
"Revenge. Revenge for old crimes," the Seer's voice grew louder, "Revenge for old betrayals. Revenge for what the Wyrm did to her. Revenge...for what we did to her," the Seer's voice became hoarse. Weiss frowned, wondering what to say. Before she could find the words, the Seer continued.
"Tell me Wielder, what do you think of immortality?"
"Excuse me?" Weiss asked, nonplussed.
"No one can live forever. So we ask those who survivor to remember us. It is why the Resting Grounds...why all graveyards exist," the Seer held out her hand, "While one's name is still uttered, they are not dead. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters."
The Seer's hand shakes as it closed.
"By forgetting the Radiance...We cosigned her to death. Oblivion," the Seer's voice picked up speed, as if afraid that if she stopped she wouldn't be able to continue, "It is what the Wyrm demanded from us. The Old Light was forgotten, and the Kingdom of Hallownest was born. It prospered under the Wyrm's rule, for ages and ages. Till one day the bugs of Hallowest dug too deep. In their greed, they found a monument to the Old Light. One that had escaped the Wyrm's sight and thus destruction. While one is remembered, they are not dead. Hallownest remembered the Old Light, bringing her forth from the depths of the Dream. Sealing their oblivion."
The Seer stared into Weiss's eye. All of her gentle facets had turned hard.
"Travelers nowadays come from far and wide. To find fame and fortune in the ruins of Hallownest, that fell to a cataclysmic plague. What they do not know, and did not know in those last days of the Kingdom, is that the plague was the Radiance's wrath. Her revenge for those who dared forget her. She invaded the dreams of the bugs of Hallownest, her light consuming them from the inside out. Hallownest's greatest minds worked at a fever pitch to stop the Infection. The monsters of the Soul Sanctum were but one of the many unfortunate souls who themselves fell to the Infection they so sought to stop. The only one who even had an inkling of what the Infection truly was, was the Wyrm and his inner circle. They crafted a desperate, genius plan to stop the Old Light...But..."
"It didn't work," Weiss finished.
"It did not work as they had hoped," the Seer confirmed, "The Radiance's revenge scoured the Kingdom. It continued long after Hallownest was no more. I cannot count how many travelers have wandered into the shell of Hallownest, only to joins its dead. The Radiance's wrath could not be doused. I had cosigned myself to tend to the Resting Grounds till I too finally faded away. It was then that your predecessor found me."
"The previous wielder of the Dream Nail?" Weiss asked, startled. She'd grown so used to the ethereal weapon that it was hard to imagine someone else wielding it.
"Ahhhh, yes, yes," the Seer's voice gained a bit more of its warmth, "A small thing, they were. But full of courage and will. I cannot say that I know much of their plans. Only that they sought to undo what the Wyrm had done, and to stop the Old Light. And they nearly succeeded, Wielder."
"What happened?" Weiss asked.
"I do not know," the Seer shook her head, "I do not know. All I do know is that the Radiance became desperate. And in her desperation, something I could never imagine happened. The dream of this dead Kingdom became intertwined with your Remnant."
"So that's why..." Weiss rocked back. It was an explanation fit for the alien and wondrous world she'd found herself dragged into. She could hardly fathom it, yet she could not deny it made some sense.
"So it was an accident," she said to herself, "Unfortunate coincidence. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Ahhh, I would not be so sure, Wielder."
Weiss frowned at the Seer.
"What do you mean?"
"The Dream works in strange ways, but seldom does it work in coincidence. That you summoned Hallownest's last Knight, and became Wielder of the Dream Nail...That is no coincidence. I do not know exactly what connection you have to this old Kingdom," the Seer held out a claw before Weiss could interrupt, "But connection there most certainly is."
Before Weiss could hound the Seer on this, the lights in her den flared once more. Weiss winced at the harsh light that left as quickly as it had come.
"Ahhh," the Seer sighed, "It appears that our time is drawing near to an end."
"Wait, what?" Weiss began.
"The Old Light is searching for you, Wielder," the Seer said, blunter than she had ever been, "I am the last of the Moths. Stay too long here in these grounds, and she is sure to find you."
"So that's why you sent me away to abruptly the first time," Weiss realized.
"Yes," the Seer laughed sadly, "Yes. You are a smart one, Weiss Schnee. You must keep your wits about you, if you seek to fix what has been wrought."
The lights flared again. Longer this time
"You must go Wielder," the Seer pointed to the exit of her den, "Go to the bottom of this cavern, and outside into the entrance of the Resting Grounds. There you will find your exit."
"Why not just use the Dream Nail?" Weiss asked, confused.
"Too much of a risk for the Old Light to find you right now. To try and cut open a gate might allow her to follow you. Now go Wielder! And come back once you have gathered more Essence for the Dream Nail!"
Weiss turned around. Her hesitation to leave must have been clear, as the Seer made a shooing motion with her hands.
"Go Wielder, go! The living still trapped in this Dream and the living of your realm need you!"
"The living-?" Weiss asked.
"The dream might be a plane beyond the physical realm of the waking. But the waking can enter it, difficult though it might be. You are proof of that, Wielder. The real difficulty lies in escaping. Now go!"
Weiss crawled out of the den and immediately began jumping from platform to platform, to the bottom of the resting grounds. If she wasn't so certain of the Wielder's warnings, she would have dismissed the changed air of the Resting Grounds as paranoia. Indeed, even knowing that something was searching for her, it was hard to detect a difference. It was like trying to feel the wind on a still day. Feel the gaze of someone watching you from far away.
Even is she could not for certain say that this Old Light the Seer had spoke of was anywhere close to the Resting Grounds, Weiss ran.
Let Me Be Free!
"Run, Wielder, run!"
Beyond the heart of the Resting Grounds was a massive cavern, still made from those stone masks, and filled with countless gravestones. Some of the graves were naught but small stone mounds. Others were great stone monoliths, with statues of bugs and abstract emblems on them. But by far the largest thing within the cavern was a great podium at the heart of the graveyard.
Weiss couldn't help but pause as she came across it. After a quick scan of her surroundings and seeing nothing, she stepped onto the podium. Three stone monoliths stood over her, each with a dull white mask set into them. As she stared up at the masks, they seemed to stare down at her. The one to her right had a pair of small eyes above a pair of larger, but otherwise looked much like some of the bugs she'd seen in the City of Tears. The one to her left brought uncomfortable memories of the Deepnest, with its three pairs of eyes. The mask in the middle was the strangest, with its single cycloptic eye.
Weiss felt the eye under her bandage begin to itch again, and turned her gaze towards the center of the podium. Under the gaze of the monoliths was a small stand, with a carved stone set into it. As she brushed a hand against the stone, the grooves glowed white and Weiss watched in surprise as the writing writhed into something she could read.
"To protect the vessel, the dreamers lay sleeping," Weiss read carefully, "Monmon the Teacher, in her Archive, surrounded by fog and mist. Lurien the Watcher, in his Spire, looking over the city. Herrah the Beast, in her Den, amidst the deep darkness beyond the kingdom. Through their devotion, Hallownest lasts eternal."
Weiss silently read the last line, before looking back up at the masks.
"But it didn't," she said, not without pity.
The masks stared down at her silently.
Weiss stared at them, wondering who they were beyond the names and what they had done. And almost missed the light in the cavern growing brighter.
Hallownest's caverns were for the most part pitch black. But lately Weiss had begun to notice that some caves were lit up with light. Light so faint it could hardly be called light. Washed up blue light so gloomy it might as well not have been there. Till now, the brightest part of Hallownest that she had found herself in was the Kingdom's Edge with its strange shimmering illumination.
The light in the distance was brighter than that. Soft and orange. The colour of new dawn, when the sun had just begun to peek over the horizon. Weiss watched, frozen in place, as the distant light grew brighter and brighter. Haloing the masks that loomed over her.
Her bandaged eye burned. At the same time her right arm spasmed, as if it had been shocked, and Weiss found herself running. As fast as she could, spinning on her heels to dodge the long worn graves in her way. Heart hammering in her ears and lungs burning as she tried to outrun the light.
The cavern was nearly as bright as a midwinter morning when she saw the gates to the Resting Grounds. Tall imposing metal gates, closed firmly shut. Disheartening were it not for the crack in the air before the gates, from which spilled forth familiar rosy light. Weiss leapt, the glyph for the Dream Nail spinning in her hands. Before the blade even had the time to fully form, her hand slashed against the crack.
The world shattered and Weiss fell into an empty pink sky.
Before it all faded away, Weiss swore she could hear a dreadful scream.
LET ME BE FREE!
The Resting Grounds shook as the Old Light raged.
In her den, hidden from the worst of the incandescent light that had filled the Resting Grounds, the Seer hummed. She was under no delusion that her goddess could not find her. The Old Light very well knew where she was. Though she was hard pressed to answer why the Radiance had yet to punish her.
"She escaped."
The Seer scarcely reacted as Markoth appeared. Not there one moment, present the next. If she had not spent so long tending to the dead, she would've been more alarmed by the moth warrior.
"Good, good..."
"I have my doubts about this new wielder, penitent moth," Markoth said. "Will she be strong enough?"
"Ahhh, I have faith."
"Hmph," as expected Markoth was not moved, "No matter. In any case she will have to face us if she even wants to get to the Heart of this Dream."
"Perhaps you will be surprised by her strength when she finally faces you and the others?" the Seer teased.
"We will see."
The two flinched as the Old Light raged again, shaking the very foundations of the dream. Moments passed, the Old Light's terribly scream fading away. The Seer watched carefully as what beams of bright light fell through her den's curtains began to fade away.
The Seer closed her eyes, and allowed herself to follow the Light.
Without the Dream Nail, which she was too frail to wield even in the waking world, she could not cross the veil between the Dream and the Wielder's world. But the veil grew weaker by the moment, and part of her could cross through, for moments at a time. Part of her could go to the Old Light's new prison.
Deep in great marble halls under the earth, in the darkness normally only illuminated by weak electrical lamps, a soft pink spectre appeared. There was no one around to see her, and the security cameras could not capture her on their records. If they could, or if any were around, they would've seen what looked like a spark of pink light floating in the air. If they had looked closer, they might've seen the outline of wings and a fuzzy body against the darkness.
The light that was the Seer bobbed in the air for a moment, before making her way down the great hallway. For all its size, the hall was shockingly empty. All that it contained stood at the very end. Where, in a manner that might've been innocuous if not for its surroundings, was a pair of large pods stood on either side of a large computer terminal. From the back of each pod slithered out great dark tubes that rose towards the dark roof of the hall, twining and wrapping around themselves.
One of the pods was empty. On the other sat Markoth, his eyes closed in meditation.
The Seer flew towards Markoth, hovering for a moment. Before humming a long forgotten song. While her voice may not have wowed audiences in Hallownest's capital, it was perfectly serviceable for the mundane moments of the day. To sing the dead and the living to sleep.
Below her, the raging amber light that flooded the pod grew less frenetic and became shades softer. But it didn't go away.
LET ME BE FREE!
DAWN WILL BREAK!
THE LIGHT CANNOT BE CONSUMED!
This chapter felt a bit more like the early chapters of the fic. Initially the Seer wasn't meant to exposit so much, but the old moth pushed aside the outline with cheer and decided to finally explain things. Well, back to the outline! Also, while I had been aware of it before - in fact it was part of the reason I wrote this fic - this chapter really made me realize how much Weiss and Hornet can act as foils for each other. Thank you all for reading! Tune in next time for: "The Hunt."