Let it be known that if a question regarding moral ambiguity or something of the like were to come into scrutiny, Quirrel would say he'd prefer to be left out of it. Of course, even though he claimed that, as soon as one popped up in that little, not quite so dreary town of Dirtmouth, he clung to it like glue.
It all first began when Bretta, listening to Zote rambling as usual (although he was rather sure she looked a tad disillusioned at this point) began screeching so loud that it prompted almost everyone in hearing range to drop their current task and look. To the onlookers' surprise she had screamed not in fear, but in adoration. At least that's what it looked like.
"So tall! So dark and mysterious !" Quirrel heard as he rushed to the stag station's entrance. He couldn't help but sigh at her reaction, but as his attention landed on the newcomer he had a far larger issue to worry about.
If Quirrel still had a wage he'd be complaining about how he wasn't paid enough for this.
Even still, he had to admit that even if he wasn't there he'd eventually be overpowered by curiosity and show up anyway.
"You're the Hollow Knight," came a voice on his left. Hornet, one of the swiftest and most alert townsbugs, had arrived a fraction of a second after him. "I suppose it wouldn't be altogether too strange, though. What is more suspicious is the thing you travel with."
The small, white creature holding on tightly on the Hollow Knight's back shifted somewhat. Oddly familiar glowing spires peeked from behind their two-pronged head. Without looking, she drew her needle and whipped it in the direction on a very startled ghost. "And you, Flena. You've been acting unusual lately. May they be linked?"
Flena fumbled. "No! Wait, kind of?" Her antennae drooping sheepishly. "Okay, fine. I'll explain. And if you don't believe me, ask your little ghost. They know."
With an irritated twitch, Hornet side eyed her sibling, sidling to her side. They merely looked away as if admiring the shell pattern on the nearest house. Amusing, but strangely atypical. Mikkel rarely withheld any truly important information without a reason. Speaking of strange, they were also now staring at the station entrance with an suspicious intensity.
The scene was now filled with a congregation of confused bugs, glancing at the lanky, stooped figure.
Bretta had been correct in her assertion of mystery. It practically seemed to exude from the situation at hand. If Quirrel had not known better, he would have also said the same, though maybe not in such a manner.
"Oh yeah," Flena piped up. "Please don't be too surprised when-"
Hornet immediately appeared to tense as the grinding of the stag station lift began again, muffled but all-encompassing. It creaked to a stop, and after what felt like hours, another familiar figure slowly stepped into view.
Quirrel started when the unanimous cry of "Dryya!" rang from behind him.
It seemed that all but Ze'mer were present at her arrival, but even she quickly flung her door open at the exuberant call of an old friend's name. Dryya, seeming to have already prepared herself prior, only marginally tightened the hold on that odd bundle in her arms. A rush ensued as the quintet of warriors and Flena formed a huddle and began throwing around exclamations and answers.
As for the Hollow Knight, they awkwardly stood stock-still, not even twitching as the child on their head shifted positions and poked around. Thankfully, Hornet seemed to take mercy in her own odd way and momentarily directed her attention to them.
She narrowed her eyes and grabbed the knight. "As you don't seem intent on talking with me, will you two communicate with one another?"
The two nodded simultaneously.
"Good. I have some questions. Where did you escape to?"
The Queen, ghost translated.
"Why did you come here?"
Warrior lady wanted to
"Was it necessary for you to come?"
No
"Then why?"
Parents-
In the blink of an eye, Hornet lassoed the Pale King and whipped him toward her. The child flailed and struggled in midair, revolving slowly.
Oh dear, what a violent approach.
"Release me, stranger!" cried the child in a squeaky tone.
She started in a way unlike anything he'd seen before; in a visible wave of shock that swiftly spread from her face and outward. In response, the Hollow Knight dipped their head in a nod. Taking advantage of the lull in attentiveness, the king smacked her in the face with one of his abnormally long horns and scrambled away to the Hollow Knight when she inevitably lost her grip. To the king's obvious relief his temporary captor didn't reattempt a recapture.
In a not too ingenuous manner, Hornet rubbed her chin and dissipated her thread. However, her needle still glinted abnormally bright in the gloomy ambient light. Perhaps it was time to interfere?
"Miss Hornet," Quirrel began. "Mayhap you give the Pale King a chance to explain? Request a few queries?" Or many, he added silently.
After a second of contemplation she fastened her needle to her back, though her expression remained worrisome.
"Yes, that would be prudent," she conceded.
He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Things could've gotten far more physical, and the Hollow Knight looked more poised to draw nail than he was comfortable with.
"What is the last you remember of the infection?" she demanded.
The Pale King tilted his head. "You mean like a disease of some sort? I know quite a bit about those."
A hand raised to pinch the bridge of her nose was enough to signify her chagrin. Adopting a sniffy tone, he spoke in a perceptive but jarringly quasi-childish-adultish tone. "Infection is a vague word, unless you're implying that there was one very specific one referred to in that way? "Your words suggest that."
"No, well, yes." Hornet sighed. "And your name would be?"
"I don't have one."
"Excuse me?"
"Wyrms aren't born with one."
What the Pale King spoke raised an old memory from the back of Quirrel's mind. Monomon's words echoed in his head. "The reason why the King is referred to using the characteristic 'pale' is because he never gave his own name, and consequently the Hallownest's denizens bestowed him with this title." It wasn't implausible to think that he didn't retain a name from birth and instead came upon a replacement.
"Well then, henceforth I shall call you Etiolate. A suitable name for you."
Quirrel snapped away from his thoughts just as the King started sputtering indignantly. "How rude! I had come into your presence mere moments ago and you seek feud so swiftly?"
"I am afraid to inform you that I and the two void beings here are much more heavily entwined with your past than you appear to remember," she replied simply.
"You've calmed quick," noted Quirrel.
She closed her eyes, then faced the diminutive figure clinging to the Hollow Knight's leg. "I cannot fault an amnesiac child with the crimes of the Pale King. Even him, as much as it irritates me. I will have no trouble tormenting him for his personality regardless of that."
"I can hear you, churlish lady." interjected the King. From what I've collected, you claim that I possess a past unknown to me. I should be privy to that tale, no?"
"Even the way he speaks is an annoyance," commented Hornet. He bristled. At this point, the knights seemed to see fit in joining the conversation, ending any retort he might have thought up to retaliate.
"I believe the queen is in a similar predicament as well," said Isma.
Dryya nodded. "When I conversed with the queen's apparent child-self, she did not appear to hold any knowledge of her past actions. We believed both were subject to a self-forced rebirth."
"The symptoms line up," agreed Quirrel. "Although there's been no documented occurrence, old legends often mention a cycle of reincarnation for higher beings. They are both creatures of light connected by archaic marital rites so it would not be odd that they manifested at the same time.
The being in question merely shifted in her ragged bundle, seemingly alseep.
"Well, they surely cannot take care of themselves, so I will raise the queen with the aid of my fellows," asserted Dryya.
Hornet looked to her. "What of him, then?"
"I refuse. Never truly liked him. I tolerated his presence on the wishes of my lady and now that I am free of that I no longer must."
"Fair enough," Hornet replied steadily. "Then who will?"
"It wouldn't be fair for you, Mikkel, or Hollow to take the burden, unless you wish to?"
The knight and Hollow shook their heads simultaneously while Hornet nailed him with a threatening glare. Message understood. "There's still Elderbug, but the stress would wear the poor old bug out. Ogrim likes the King plenty, but do I trust him to raise-"
"You." Interrupted Hornet. "Why not you?"
"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly-"
"You have no real tasks and old enough to do so."
"Wait, but-"
"Meeting adjourned. Here." She yanked the squirming King away from Hollow, the latter of which did not protest this time, and summarily dropped him in Quirrel's hands. He looked at the indignant child struggling in his grip with undisguised apprehension.
Was he really prepared for such a role?