Greetings, reader. Please be aware that this is my first fanfic. In fact, I'm treating this more so as practice for my skills as a writer. I hope to write a bestseller, though that's highly unlikely. Regardless, I'm just looking for ways to improve. The story's direction will develop as I advance, though the current direction is just Hollow Knight with the world above ground being greatly enhanced with the addition of MGE's setting. I hope you'll enjoy this and provide me with plenty of advice along the way.

Even Insects Dream

1

"No Cost Too Great. No Mind to Think. No Will to Break. No Voice to Cry Suffering. Born of God and Void."

The Pale King

The sun was particularly persistent today, thought the young Elt as he strolled across the wall's ramparts. The young member of the Order of Holy Knights ruminated over today's assignment, that being to patrol the city's outer walls alongside the common soldiery. He remembered the meeting he had attended just that morning, how his unit commander Mersé Dascaros had merrily given him his orders while Lady Wilmarina Noscrim stood in the corner. Elt had made attempts at making eye contact, but she had avoided his gaze each time. He sighed, depressed by the distance which had developed between them. They had been playmates as children, and Elt wished to rekindle that relationship despite their monumental difference in social standing. Wilmarina's father had thought Elt's parents to be using their relationship to raise their own status and thus dismissed them from his estate. Following the passing of his parents, Elt was raised in an orphanage before joining the Order of Holy Knights and reuniting with Wilmarina. But she seemed different now, perhaps due to her newfound position as the strongest hero in Lescatie.

Lescatie. The nation Elt resided in. Boasting the second most powerful military among all states aligned with The Order, and having a reputation for producing capable heroes, Lescatie sits as the pride and hope of The Order and human society. But standing atop the walls of this city, Elt saw little of this praise and prestige reflected in its townsfolk. In contrast with the mesmerizing central district, the city was packed with slums where the common folk eked a living out of grinding labor that paid little. Heavy taxation served only to worsen their livelihoods, and recent disputes had seen some heroes among Lescatie's ranks abandoning their cause. Fewer heroes meant that even prestigious orders like his own were forced to stretch their resources to compensate. Which was why Elt had been deployed here, patrolling the outer walls as the people below suffered. He could not help but sympathize with those deserters. What was the point of protecting Lescatie when its true nature ran counter to its reputation? Who could stand to remain within those walls when the land outside it had blossomed so beautifully? The contrast was only made clearer by the autumn season. The tree line outside the city had gained a dazzling auburn hue, whereas the wall Elt stood atop hid a morose, sullen plateau. He shook his head to expel those thoughts. All his life, Elt had been told that the monster nations they fought were far worse than anything they could imagine. Elt had never met a monster before, so all he could do was hope that the Order's teachings were true. Without the Order of the Chief God, how could the human states remain united?

Making matters worse, rumors were spreading that a virulent disease had affected small areas of the human states, Lescatie included. What accounts Elt had heard all told the same story, that the disease began with massive, bright orange pustules developing on those afflicted. What often followed was nothing short of madness. Their eyes glossed over with the same orange hue as the pustules, and they seemed to lose all sense of reason as they drove themselves toward all nearby people, be they friend or foe. Death only made matters worse, as slaying the diseased individuals saw their bodies burst in a huge explosion. Cases were few, but Elt had been told by officials that they were gradually rising. The Church had discretely deployed more of its agents to deal with this disease, outside of the public eye. Could this be some scheme devised by the monsters? Elt was uncertain, as some of the rumors had originated in areas too far from the monster nations for it to have been their doing. Regardless, problems were mounting for the Church and Elt wasn't sure if they could handle them all.

A sudden cry shook Elt from his ruminations, and he immediately turned in its direction. Outside of the city walls, where the farmers worked in their villages, a child dashed into the tree line. A small group chased after him. Elt, loyal as he was to Dascaros, could not fathom abandoning the child to their fate. The residents of Lescatie suffered enough as it was. If he couldn't even help a single child, could he truly call himself a knight? Trusting that commander Dascaros would forgive him for doing this, Elt leapt off the ramparts and landed on a peasant's hay cart below. The man loudly yelped in surprise but was pleasantly surprised after Elt tossed him a gold coin for his troubles before sprinting towards the tree line that the child had entered. He knew patrolling the walls was pointless, and he lacked the political clout to affect any permanent change in Lescatie. But if he could at least help one child, maybe that would be a start.

*1 Hour Prior*

Oliver carefully checked that his things were all in their rightful places before departing from his room for breakfast. Despite having no real reason for concern, the boy nevertheless swept his room daily because of his father's teachings. He lived in a small orphanage located in the slums. Normally such households would be woefully impoverished and barely able to maintain any semblance of order, but this orphanage was owned by the holy maiden Sasha Fullmoon. A renowned hero and priestess of the chief god, it was thanks only to her efforts that Oliver and many other orphans could live in relative comfort. Case in point, Oliver caught a scrumptious whiff of that day's breakfast as he made his way downstairs. Entering the dining room, Oliver spotted Ms. Fullmoon setting the table with some help from Riannon and Cassie, two other orphaned members of Sasha's establishment. Oliver took a moment to admire Sasha's long green hair, braided to prevent it from billowing outward yet graceful, nonetheless. A kind and benevolent soul, Oliver was grateful for such a wonderful mother figure. After all, Oliver had never known his birth mother. Upon noticing Oliver, Ms. Fullmoon immediately gave him a gentle and welcoming smile. "Good morning, Oliver" she said. Placing the steaming hot bowl of soup upon the table, she removed her gloves and strode towards Oliver.

"Good morning, Sasha" Oliver replied, reaching out and accepting her warm embrace. Following some additional greetings as other children entered the dining room, the table was finally set for the whole orphanage to have their breakfast. As the children seated themselves before their morning meals, each child clasped their hands before them in preparation for their morning prayer. Sasha then went on to recite a prayer to the Chief God. Hidden behind his clasped hands, Oliver silently gritted his teeth at the Chief God's mention as Sasha began her prayer.

"Oh, benevolent one. It is with humility and gratitude that we humbly partake another day's gifts, lent to us by none other than you, Chief God. For giving our fields plentiful rain, our children health and happiness, and our nation prosperity and safety, we give our thanks. For lending our armies your strength and helping them to fend off the monsters lurking at our borders, we are ever grateful. I ask that these children may be given your blessing, and might follow paths which lead to further happiness. It is with this in mind that we may enjoy our breakfast today. Amen." As she concluded the prayer, all the children repeated "Amen" in chorus, after which they could finally indulge in their breakfast. Oliver appreciated Ms. Fullmoon for her kindhearted nature and willingness to help kids like him and in his eyes, she was nothing less than a surrogate mother. Yet he shared none of her religious devotion. After all, it had been such devotees of the Chief God who had robbed him of a father.

Prior to the incident, Oliver had lived as the son of a respected scholar. Most nearby villages would visit Oliver's father in search of recipes and other recorded knowledge, while others came by asking that he help them record information. This demand afforded the two of them a relatively comfortable lifestyle, although their modest home left little room for luxuries what with all the bookshelves. Oliver had no memories of his mother. In fact, all he knew of her was based off the testimonies of his neighbors, that she had left of her own volition for reasons few knew.

"Quite a looker, though." Had been the testimony of more than one neighbor. "An aura of beauty that drew in many a man. Rumor had it some wives were happy to see her leave."

In the absence of his wife, Oliver's father took it upon himself to see that his son grew up happy and strong. Having received an education of his own, Oliver's father held an insatiable desire to learn, and he expressed this desire by purchasing manuscripts from around the Order states. His goal was to give his son an education to surpass his own, so that he may one day carry on his scholarly work. Oliver never complained since it brought his father much joy, and over time the act of reading itself became enjoyable. Eventually Oliver would, in his spare time, grab one of his father's books and read them in the nearby woods. Oliver would watch his father work in the morning, then Oliver would attend his tutoring session at noon before departing, with book in hand, to practice and enjoy himself. Life was comfortable. At least, until his father bought one book in particular. A book which tore their lives apart and forced Oliver into poverty. A book which saw the walls of their humble home stained with blood and burnt to the ground. A book which, despite it all, Oliver still possessed. It had been his father's final request, after all.

"It'll be alright… You'll be alright…" His father had said, tears dotting his cheeks, mere moments before the Order Knights arrived. "But this book is worth more than you realize. Take it, and one day it will help you find your place in this world."

And then it was over. Oliver's father was cut down on the spot, not even given a proper trial. All because of rumors that he was a heretic who favored the monster kingdoms. The Order Knights burned down the shop, leaving nothing behind. The Knights spared Oliver, unaware that the book they disregarded as a mere child's diary was the one they had come to destroy, simply disguised in a ragged cover and clutched tightly to an innocent child's chest. And now, having finished his breakfast, Oliver strained himself to remain calm as these memories welled up within him. He breathed deeply and quietly before looking at Ms. Fullmoon and noticing that she was looking back with concern in her eyes. Oliver put on a smile and waved at her. She smiled, albeit reluctantly, and rose from her seat along with the orphans. All the orphans gave Ms. Fullmoon a thankful embrace before rushing back to their rooms to partake in their other morning routines.

"Oliver," Oliver turned around at Ms. Fullmoon's request. "Did my prayer bother you at all?" Oliver could not help but shake his head. How could he possibly reveal his true feelings about her beliefs when she wore such an innocent smile? Her expression still showed shades of worry, but Ms. Fullmoon chose to simply let him go. "Our store of charcoal is running low. Would you mind going to Harold and asking him for this month's supply?" She made this request because she felt the walk may do his mentality some good. It also helped that Harold had been a close friend of Oliver's father, so Oliver was familiar with the man. "Okay." He replied before turning back around and hopping upstairs. The hallway was now filled with activity as children dashed up and down the halls. The sound of tiny feet pattering across the floor mingled with young children screeching in joy. Nearly all the orphans were there for war-related reasons. Soldiers would be sent to the front lines and never be seen again, leaving families without an income and children without fathers. They all had reason to resent the monsters, but not Oliver. Which was why he could not read the encyclopedia at the orphanage. He entered his room and grabbed the encyclopedia, wrapping it in a haggard old rag. He had been able to pass it off as an old manuscript he had retrieved from the ruins of his old home, but he still made sure to only read it in private.

The other kids were busy playing as Oliver made his way out, only stopping to wave to the few who noticed his departure. Oliver was normally the one asked to pick up their charcoal, so no one questioned the old book he carried. As Oliver exited the front doors of the orphanage, he spotted Ms. Fullmoon awaiting him at the front gates. "Taking your book again, Oliver?" Gesturing towards the disguised encyclopedia, Sasha opened the gate for him. Oliver sighed. "Yes, Ms. Fullmoon. I know it wastes time, but I would just like to spend some time reading near my old home." He hated to keep secrets from such a kind person, but Oliver knew he couldn't reveal the truth about his book to anyone. The scholar who had written it had been summarily exiled, and those found possessing it were either imprisoned or, in his father's case, executed. Oliver felt some measure of relief when Sasha refrained from delving further and instead cupped his face in her hands. "Oliver, you needn't worry about that. If reading there is what truly warms you, then our orphanage growing slightly chilly is a miniscule price to pay." Her smile may as well have radiated sunlight and affection, as Oliver smiled in return. As Oliver passed through the front gates, he heard Sasha behind telling him "Just make sure to stay out of trouble and be back before lunchtime." He turned back and nodded in agreement, saying "I promise," before breaking into a light jog towards Harold's.

It took little time for Oliver to reach the city gates and even less time to pass through them. Being one of the most powerful and respected member states of the Order, Lescatie naturally attracted merchants, mercenaries, peasants, and other tradesmen on the lookout for profit and safety. They came in such numbers that Lescatie's imposing gates were often left open, though thankfully numerous guards were stationed there to keep watch and evaluate every visitor. As a frequent outgoer, Oliver was recognized by the soldiers and allowed to pass with no inspection. This did little to lessen Oliver's distaste towards the Order of the Chief God and their teachings, but he knew not to direct his anger towards those not responsible for what happened. Oliver maneuvered himself through the throngs of visitors, stepping around trader carriages and tiptoeing around bands of mercenaries. He was pushed to the edge of the drawbridge at times, but his small frame allowed him to nimbly pass through the crowd and reach the other side. He took a moment to catch his breath before continuing onward. In comparison to the cramped drawbridge he had just exited, the open space of the outside and the cool breeze did much to lift Oliver's spirits. And it was not long before Oliver finally reached the large hut where Howard resided. A rather humble abode for one whose job was so pivotal to the commonfolk's lifestyles; the hut was made of simple materials with wood walls and open windows. It was large enough to house a small family, and house a small family it did as Howard lived with his wife and two children. A plume of smoke rose out from behind the hut. Inspecting further, Oliver sadly found no sign of Howard at the hut but was soon intercepted by one of his children. "Oliver!", he heard someone yell. From the corner of his vision, Oliver spotted a young girl dashing towards him. Howard's youngest daughter, Shani, sprinted at Oliver before skidding to a stop right beside him. "Have you come to play?" She asked joyfully. "Or are you just here to pick up your charcoal like last time?" As she asked, she lowered her head a little in disappointment as Oliver nodded to confirm the former.

Oliver did enjoy playing with Shani and her sister whenever he could, but at the moment all he wanted to do was read his "diary" and figure out the meaning in his father's final message. "Fine." Shani replied, pointedly pouting in Oliver's direction before dashing off. "You can just stay there. I'll go get him." And so, Oliver was left alone, with little to do besides take a seat beside a nearby tree. As he sat down, a couple of the passerby recognized Oliver and greeted him as they walked past. He waved in turn but regretted being unable to recognize their faces. He had been away from his old house long enough to forget many of those he'd once been familiar with. For all the good things Oliver had gained in recent times, nothing would ever be able to replace his father. Even if he did decode his-

"Yoink!"

Abducted from his thoughts, Oliver scrambled to his feet as an older boy held the Encyclopedia. It was Bradley.

"Oliver." Said Bradley, switching his gaze between the Encyclopedia and Oliver.

"Brad." Oliver replied, glancing around Bradley, and noticing two other boys behind him. "So ... Mind telling me what this is?" Bradley asked. Oliver took a few moments to weigh his options. Bradley was not that much bigger than Oliver, so it wasn't impossible for him to overpower Bradley. But he was outnumbered, so his only good option was to stall. "An old book Howard wanted me to keep a hold of." Oliver responded, trying to cover a lie with another lie. "I'm trying to give it back to him, so if you wouldn't mind…" Oliver held out his hand in the hopes that Bradley would return the Encyclopedia. But he was ultimately disappointed, as Bradley coolly held up his hand with a smirk on his face. "Now hold on just a second, Oliver. I might not be as book smart as you, but I know a lie when I hear one." Bradley jeered in unison with his two henchmen. Bradley gradually maneuvered his fingers to the books edge. "And I know a diary when I see one." At least that lie had made it through. "I wonder what kinds of secrets little Ollie could possibly have." Oliver felt his stomach drop as Bradley moved to open the Encyclopedia and potentially ruin Oliver's chances of ever decoding his father's final words. But just as Bradley began turning the front cover, salvation came.

"Oliver? You there? I've got this month's charcoal right here!" Howard strolled out of the hut, carrying a basket full of charcoal. Bradley, his henchmen, and Oliver all instinctively turned their heads in the direction of the voice. "Oliver?" Howard asked as the realization seemed to dawn on him. But Oliver, now acting off instinct, saw an opportunity and immediately snatched the Encyclopedia out of Bradley's hands. Bradley gave a mild yelp of surprise as Oliver sprinted away. There were just too many people now. It would be too difficult to keep his secret safe with all those people there, especially with Bradley involved. Behind him, Bradley and his possie quickly recognized what had transpired and begun chasing after him. Even further back, Howard realized the young boy he had known for years was in trouble. He dropped the charcoal basket and, despite his aging kneecaps, joined the chase.

*Present*

And now here we are, back in the present. The naïve but promising young knight of the Order, dashing to the child in need. The hapless child, desperate on keeping his secret to himself. And from the howling cliffs afar, descends the final piece of our tale.

So, how was it? I think one indication of an adequate work is when the author can review what they wrote without cringing, and I'm proud to say that was the case with this chapter. I should have the next chapter up eventually, though that depends on the degree of advice I receive. Thank you for your attention, and I'll see you next time.