Lemm stared at the parchment for a full ten seconds before rolling his eyes and passing it back to Quirrel. It had the symbols 'Game Completion ' and ' Percentage' written on them, amongst others. "Do I look like the type for jokes to you? I won't pay you a cent for this chicken scratch. "
"N-No, you misunderstand." Quirrel said. "I just need your help deciphering this. I'm not looking to sell it to you."
Lemm shook his head. "I've uncovered countless numbers of ancient languages, in and out of Hallownest. I've discovered at least a dozen from journals found in the City of Tears alone. I even helped decrypt one of them. And that doesn't look anything like I've ever seen in my life."
"Well, could you perhaps look at it for a bit longer? I'm sure you will recall something if you-"
"Don't waste my time." Lemm sniped. "Either show me a real artifact, or get out."
The Knight raised their hand from beneath Lemm's counter. He raised a brow and looked down. His eyes widened slightly in recognition. "Ah. I didn't notice you there. Are you with this bug? I wasn't aware that you were fond of such company."
They shrugged and withdrew their arms beneath their cloak. After a few seconds, they brought out two large black stones with some sort of carvings in them - one in each hand, and placed them on the counter. Lemm's breath hitched as soon as he saw them.
"Wha- Arcane Eggs? It's rare enough to own one of them, but two? You're quite the talented collector, aren't you? First, all of those King Idols and now, these?" Lemm asked. "In any case, I'm glad that you've brought something worth my time. I'll give you a small fortune for them - 2400 geo should be fair, no?"
The Knight firmly shook their head.
"Hmph. Fine then, I'll bump it to 2700." Lemm rolled his eyes and brought out a hefty bag from under his counter.
They shook their head again.
"... No? You're lucky enough to find someone willing to buy them for so much. I'm likely the only one in all of Hallownest who would pay over 2000. You realize that, right?" Lemm asked incredulously.
They stared at him unflinchingly.
"3000, and no higher!" Lemm snaps.
The Knight took the parchment from Quirrel's hand and shoved it at Lemm's face.
"What? What are you pulling here?"
"I think," Quirrel said, covering up a smile with one hand. "That they are offering those eggs in exchange for you to take another look at these symbols."
"Gah! What a nuisance." Lemm rolled his eyes and snatched the two eggs from the counter as well as the paper from their hands. "Fine. I'll take another look at it. But don't be disappointed if I don't find anything. Like I said, these scripts are like nothing I've ever seen."
"And I've been in the game for a long while." He muttered as he walked to his storeroom.
Quirrel glanced down at the Knight, who seemed satisfied with the transaction. "Clever move you pulled there, I have to admit. But what if he really doesn't find anything? I don't want to be a pessimist, but it seems like a distinct possibility."
They simply shrugged in return. It was a nonchalant gesture, but he could see that his words made the vessel nervous. Their body seemed to be shaking just slightly and they kept shifting their weight from one leg onto the other.
He had to know something, right? If he didn't, then what could they do? The Knight doubted that anyone else would be able to decipher them. Anyone else in Hallownest, at least. And he couldn't leave. Never. He would sooner die than leave Hallownest…
'But why? Why shouldn't I leave?' They thought. Now there was an idea - what if they could escape this loop by leaving Ha-
Hundreds of images flashed in their mind. The Black Egg Temple. The Hollow Knight. The Infection. The Radiance. One after another, they all hammered themselves into the Knight's mind. They shivered and squeezed their eyes shut, as if that would help. They could feel the beginnings of a painful headache start to form.
'stopstopstopstopstopstop'
An icy chill settled on them. The headache quickly grew until it felt like their mask was shrinking, crushing the void within it. Eventually, it became difficult to even stand and impossible to think. An incredibly loud screeching sound was-
"Oh, he's returned." Quirrel mutters to the Knight. "And he's brought a few things. Good news, I hope?"
They blinked sluggishly and looked up. Sure enough, Lemm had returned, bearing a thoughtful expression and a box filled with various objects.
"It appears… that I have other artifacts that bear the same symbols as the ones you have shown me." Lemm admitted begrudgingly. "I got these quite a long time ago, from a moth. For free, if you can believe it. I suppose I just never got around to working on decrypting them though."
"Did you by chance get a translation key?" Quirrel asked
"Of course not. Only some scripts." Lemm said, holding up a large carved rock which seemed to have been broken off of a tablet. The symbols 'May your hearts st' were imprinted on it."The scripts have more writing similar to the one you showed me, and the stones are the same, except carved instead of written."
"A moth, hm? Truly a rare sight." Quirrel said. "Where did the moth get these?"
"I believe he mentioned something about a 'Shrine of Believers'." Lemm shook his head. "I've never heard of such a place, at least outside of Hallownest. I haven't strayed too far from this city since arriving though. Perhaps the rude wanderer recognizes the name?"
The Knight stared blankly at one of the parchment papers from the box and shook their head. It read 'Tiso Spencer'.
"Do you think you can decrypt these texts, Lemm?" Quirrel asked. He put the paper back in the box.
"Hmph. With so little clues?" Lemm scoffed. "Perhaps. But it would take decades. And even then, it would likely not be completely accurate, given the miniscule amount of material we have. I would also have to receive assistance from my colleagues."
Decades. The Knight shook their head in anguish. They felt like they couldn't wait another day, let alone decades. The soft tugs on their soul would become harsh pulls, and then torture. Sooner or later, they would go insane. They pointed at the box and then at Lemm.
"Why, you're quite the brat after all, aren't you?" Lemm asked, glaring at the vessel. "Do you know how much effort goes into decoding an ancient language? It's near impossible, unless you happen to have some sort of Rosetta Ore. Even with one, it would still be a ludicrously difficult endeavor. Even with Wanderer's Journals, which are written in a similar language to ours, it takes immense work to decrypt them. And in the end, it's only still a remote guess as to what they actually read."
"Well, would it help if we provided more text?" Quirrel asked. "We only transcribed a small fraction of what was available to us."
Lemm sighed. "If you do have more of the source material, then yes. It would speed up the process. However, it would still take several years. And anyway, all I agreed to was just taking another look at your parchment. I don't know how many days I have left in this god-forsaken world, but I'm not going to spend them deciphering a language that I have no interest in."
"Hey, come on now." Quirrel protested. "Didn't you say that you've done this kind of thing before?"
"No, I only said that I've helped decrypt a language. The bulk of my experience lies in the initial discovery and recovery of them." Lemm clarified. "Besides, my forte is in gleaming information from relics and artifacts."
'Useless.' The Knight takes a step back from the counter. Void particles floated off their body and hovered above them. The room was spinning. ' Dead end. For nothing.'
"Wha- Hey, what are you doing?" Lemm asked. "What are those things doing, coming out of you? They better not damage any of my artifacts, or-"
They quickly turned around and dashed out of the shop. A large clang echoed throughout the halls as they crashed through the signpost right outside. It didn't slow them down however - they just kept running, paying no heed to any of their surroundings.
They were tired, so tired. Tired of this. Failure, crushing disappointment, everything. It was just the same, over and over again like a cycle. Ever since they first woke up on that bench, it's been nothing but agonizing pain. Every time they allowed themselves to get their hopes up, to believe that he could win, he's been let down.
It wasn't even surprising anymore. Of course it wasn't. Why would they expect anything else? They were made to hold no thoughts, no feelings, no will. So it shouldn't be surprising that they would remain a constant failure, even when others tried to help. It seemed like as soon as they inherited the Hollow Knight's thoughts and gained these accursed feelings, things had been on a downward spiral.
'I hate it. Hate hate hate hate hate hate. Why why why? Why me? I hate this. I don't want it anymore.'
Despite these thoughts ramming themselves into the Knight's brain, they could still feel that tightening in their chest, like something's crushing them. They could still feel the horrible weight settle in and the hot, stinging tears of void that threatened to spill out of their mask.
They've experienced this so many times now so why does it still feel like this? Why does it still feel like it was their first time? Their hurt was so fresh. Was this how other bugs felt all the time? Was this really what it meant to feel? To lift the suppression on their thoughts and experience emotional freedom?
No. No, that couldn't be true. There had to be something wrong with them. There had to be. Had to be. Had to be. There was something wrong with them. Something terrible. They were wrong. A failure since birth. That's why he was discarded by their father. That was the reason, wasn't it? They were just a tragic mistake, like all the others.
'This again. Please stop.'
Yes, there it was again. The numb hatred and self-pity they always felt. They were so predictable. It was a pattern. There was no excuse for them to not feel used to this by now. There was no excuse for them to have not built some sort of resistance, to not have a way to fight back.
Oh. That was it. 'That was it!'
They couldn't fight back. They just couldn't. Now, there was the answer. It hit them like an explosion, forcing them to stop running. They stared down at their trembling arms. That was why they couldn't adapt to their thoughts. That was why it always hurt so much. That was why they felt so helpless. That was why this kept happening over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.
It was because they were too weak to fight back.
Too weak.
It was funny. They've single-handedly cleared out every trial in the Colosseum of Fools. They've killed the core of the Infection. They've killed countless hordes of infected bugs. They defeated the Hollow Knight.
No, wait. That was wrong too. When they defeated them, the Hollow Knight had left behind terrible things. Free will and free thought. Those things had invaded them, tricking the Knight into thinking that these were good things. That these were gifts. Now, these things were in them. Like circulating poison, or a parasite.
The Knight shuddered.
'I need to stop thinking. I need to become a pure vessel.'