Chapter 13 – For a Place to Call a Home

THUCK.

The sound of a small pebble hitting glass. Someone kept throwing those. A couple of shouts outside, and the guard chased a passerby away from the hut. The Knight was awake, though. The bug did not sleep, much. Instead, it just laid still on its bunk, inside of Cornifer's and Isolde's hut, their shop closed, for a while. It would have left a while ago, but the Princess was merciful, and gave it a few days to heal the wounds. Dirtmouth was guarded by her little army now, after all. It was not in any danger, as the darkness recoiled back to the depths, and lingered there. The Knight's chest and shoulder was wrapped in its old, silken bandages. The ones the bug had back when it was fished out of the well, weeks ago. Isolde kept those, for some reason, and washed them clean before leaving. They were of good, sturdy material.

THUCK.

The annoying boy came back. His family was devoured during the attack, and this was his little petty attempt at vengeance. Some people in Dirtmouth felt that way. Mostly those who lost someone. Some did not. Most were on the fence. Hornet's little speech about the Knight was… persuasive. Plausible… Believable. How does she know? What does she know? Broken Mask… – the Knight wandered where he heard those words before, but dared not to ask. It sat up, and hunched over the small table, dipping its finger in ink, drawing on a piece of used parchment from before. The quill broke a while ago. It was then, when the tall bug heard a rapping against the door, and a light creak as it opened. Fresh air entering the stuffy hut. The Knight shifted towards the front of the hut, where the counter was. Appearing from behind it as if still running the shop.

There were two visitors at the door, one whose faces the Knight quickly recognized. It was Sly the Nail Sage, and the Elderbug. The small bug went in first with no trouble, but the other one had to crouch a little just to squeeze himself through the door. They were carrying something. The tall bug shifted a little, bowing over the counter, looking at them with a mix of amazement and relief. For a moment, it thought they were trouble.

"Ser Knight, we uhh… came to visit you. Wanted to see you before you have to go, and all… How are you feeling?" – Sly spoke first, looking at the ground, swiping his foot against the floor. Without the large sword and the brazen attitude shown during battle, the shopkeeper looked much smaller. A bit timid, even, with those drooped shoulders and eyes looking away. As if guilty or something. The Elderbug approached, and put a hand on the smaller bug's shoulder, nodding, in agreement.

"That's quite right. We could not thank you enough for what you did for us. I… we wanted you to know, that none in the village hate you. Not even those who throw rocks. They are just… hurting. And are all too eager to find someone to blame for it." – the older bug spoke, in a more solemn voice. The Knight looked up at him, and then looked down, and away. These words were… nice to hear. But not even it would believe them. They were words of comfort; comforting lies to seek refuge in the unknown. The tall bug shook its head a little bit frantically, from one side to another. No! If its presence was a danger to others, then it must go. No matter how much it would hurt. This place, these walls, they were … home. The eyes lingered on the small potted plant on the windowsill, the picture on the wall, the various mundane items placed all around. So dear and precious, they felt. The first home it had in forever. And just outside, there were homes just like this one. Battered and gutted from the inside out by those… things. The Knight breathed out, sharply, making the two other bugs look at one another. This would have been so much easier, had the tall one the ability to speak.

"We uh… we gathered a few supplies for your journey. Thought you might need them."

The two brought a bag on the counter, and opened it up. Inside were so many things – bandages, an ink bottle, some new quills and a few parchments, a new cloak, a whetstone, a firestone, and various other things a bug needed on a journey. Many of these items were not sold anywhere except for Sly's shop. Knowing how mercantile the little bug was, the Knight looked at him. The Nail Sage waved his hand dismissively.

"No charge, no charge, sheesh. It is not like you have a single Geo to your name anyway. Oh… speaking of which…" – with that, the small bug added a small pouch to the stash.

"That's uncharacteristically generous of you, Sly." – the Elder bug commented, sending the smaller one into a flailing frustration.

"Let none ever say that Sly the shopkeeper let a comrade-in-arms leave empty-handed." – he said and then looked back at the Knight. "Besides… I think you earned your share. No matter what the Princess said. The best way to know a bug is to fight them. I fought with and against you, in the span of two days. I know you have a good heart in there, somewhere." – Sly reached out and poked in the Knight's chest, making it wince a little. "Ha! Knew it, see?"

The Elderbug laughed a little at that odd and rare display of affection. Before reaching into the depths of his cloak, and pulling something out. A small box, made of wood. With something glowing inside, through the cracks. Upon opening it, the Knight gazed at a very delicate-looking flower, growing from a bit of earth placed in there, protected from the harsh outside world by the box. The Elderbug smiled a little, looking at it.

"I did not come empty-handed either. Wanted you to have this. It is something the one that came before you left me. Something to remember it by. As years passed, I discovered I do not need the flower – the Little One's presence was one of the most memorable things to happen to Dirtmouth. But… maybe it could be something you'd remember us by, no?"

The Knight looked at both of them, astonished. People… had never treated the bug like that, before. It left a warm glow inside its chest. One that was going to be chilled by the inevitable departure. Clumsily walking out from behind the counter, the tall bug knelt before the two, bowing its head as low as it could. It was… the only way to show gratitude that it knew. Sly and Elderbug looked at the Knight, before rushing over and helping it stand back up.

"No need, no need. Just… you take care of yourself out there, alright? You're gonna return here one day, so keep yourself in one piece, ye hear?" – Sly shook his tiny fist at the Knight. The Elderbug pulled him a bit away, and bowed, slightly, in reverence.

"Do not let us distract you from your preparations, Ser Knight. We will be taking our leave. But… my short friend here is right. Dirtmouth will not forget its hero. Until then, we… we'll be waiting for your return." – the older bug's shoulders shuddered a little, voice reverberating at that last line. The two left in haste, leaving the Knight alone, with these gifts suddenly dropped on it. For a few moments, it gazed at the glowing flower, as if mesmerized by its fragile beauty. A part of it wanted to keep the plant here, where it was safe. But… there was a strange warmth coming from it, making the sadness go away. The Knight barely closed the box, when another figure appeared in the doorway. One the bug recognized well, by now.

"It is time."

The warrior Princess came personally to see the Knight off. She brought her needle, and was expecting violence. She always did. But there was not going to be any. Their gazes met, once more, though they were not clashing this time. The red-cloaked bug entered the shop, and slowly looked around, with a studious curiosity. This was someone's home, after all. It was not often she entered homes. Hers was the path of the blade, and the road. Yet… there was something comely about the place. Something precious.

"You understand this must be done, don't you?" - Hornet said, looking at the figure of the Knight, who hunched over the counter, tying the items left to him into the bag. He nodded, in response. This put the smaller bug a bit more at ease. For inside, she too was full of doubt.

"Where are you going to go from here?"

Another question. One at which the Knight paused a little, before reaching out inside the bag, and pulling out the drawing it worked on earlier. Inside, there was a crude child-like picture, of itself, next to Cornifer and Isolde, in front of this very hut. Hornet's eyes narrowed a little, as she recognized them as denizens of Dirtmouth… and that they were no longer here.

"Even if you will find them, you cannot stay with them here. Your presence endangers the village. Are you still going to look?"

That question made the Knight pause what it was doing, once more. He let out another loud wheeze, its shoulders rising up a little. Its only hand clenching into a fist, which made Hornet back away a little, her own hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of her Needle. Yet the tall bug was not going to fight. Instead, it looked into her eyes, and nodded. Trice. With force and conviction. Seeing that, the crimson bug slowly let go of the hilt again. Her eyes widened underneath the mask, at the silent revelation.

"I see… I understand."– she said and walked back towards the door. Looking over her shoulder, briefly, tossing a single line, back:

"Good luck."