OOC: Hello again, my dears. Apologies for being quiet. I have been wrestling with a bit of a writer's block. I've been seeing you look at the story even when I didn't post anything for weeks. Thank you for being so patient with me 3 Hope you like this chapter!

Chapter 15 – When Everyone Else is Gone

"Heave-ho! Come on! We have to finish before the day is out! Princess's orders!"

For once, the slow and lazy atmosphere of Dirtmouth was dispelled with activity. The small village was being busy. Soldiers were moving and heaving stones from the surrounding countryside, building a rough, rugged wall around the place. Some of the civilians were there too, pitching buckets and mortar, to help in the construction effort. Inch by inch, the wall was rising from the ground up, surrounding the village in its belt.

Hornet was not present at the construction. The craft always felt strange and foreign to her. Very physical, very rough, no finesse. Her lieutenant, the Ant, was much better at it than she could ever hoped to become. Thus, the task of building the defensive wall was left to him. The Princess spent the day occupying Iselda and Cornifer's shop. The place where the Knight used to stay. She was … curious. In her travels, Hornet was used to the austerity of the road. This was almost… lavish. And yet, at the same time, it was not. Just a collection of useful junk, compared to the splendor of the White Palace. The place she once knew. And now it was gone, all of it.

And I am here. A princess of a useless ruin. Commander of a dozen rejects. And protector of the Realm. All because of it…

Hornet crumpled one of the papers she held in her hands. It was one of the few drawings left behind. Created by a large, clumsy hand, simple and child-like in design and nature. For a brief moment after, the bug felt a pang of guilt for ruining it, and so she unfolded it and straightened it across the table. Was it a mistake to have let it go? Back then, in the aftermath of a great battle, she was content to do so. Many in Dirtmouth supported the decision. Including the town elder and the Nailsage, of all people. But now, when the dust settled, she was no longer sure. Old grudges started to weight in. It was then, when she heard … a voice.

"Do you still hate your sibling, my child?"

Hornet sighed. She knew that voice. It was the voice of her reason. More often than not, it took the appearance of her mother. Herrah's voice. She could almost see her image in a shadow on the wall. The question made her think. The princess remained quiet, for a while.

"I want to." – she hissed out, finally. "All of this is its failure. It was supposed to contain the light. It did not. And it brought us all to ruin."

A soft chuckle followed, making Hornet stare acidly at the shadow flickering in the light of a floating lumafly lamp on the table. That chuckle made her feel ridiculed, as if she were still a child. Was her own consciousness laughing at her?! It ended soon, and the voice spoke again.

"When a nail is broken, who is to bear the blame? The smith, who did not make the weapon as strong as needed? Or the warrior, who used it without care? Or, perhaps, the nail itself, for not living up to the expectations? We have broken so many blades, to make this one…"

Hornet's hands balled into fists.

"It is a person. And a person can be held responsible, for success or failure."

"We did not treat them as such. What was the word we used for them? Ah yes… vessels. Like pottery. Would you have preferred to take its place?"

Hornet remembered the ceremony. She was there, when mother was put to sleep. Along with Monomon the Teacher, and Lurien the Watcher. They laid to rest, to guard the vessel. A tall, stately knight, in brilliant white armor. Chains wrapped around it, and lifted into the air. It stared at the King – the father, the queen – the mother, and her – the sister. With a stoic, resolute, and apathetic gaze. Were there regrets? None. This was what it was made to do. The door was sealed, it sentenced into darkness and solitude, for all of eternity. As Hallownest was supposed to last eternal. As the door inside her memory closed with a loud clang, the princess shuddered.

"No."

"Then do not judge. The fault lies elsewhere. With the King, who in his hubris thought to contain a God. With Queen Mother, who took part in creating so many vessels, and letting them break without care. And… with me. With all of us, who followed along this path, without protest, or regret. Blame me, if you must, my child. If it will help one through the misery I brought upon you."

Hornet listened to the voice in silence. She sat down, and wrapped her red cloak around herself, clenching eyes shut. Waiting for the voice to go away, and for that painful feeling inside her chest to subside. And yet, it did not. She could almost feel someone's gentle fingers brush against the side of her mask.

"My dear Hornet, I am so very sorry. Your father is gone, as am I. As are thousands of your siblings, sacrificed to that… pit. Leaving you to make up for the mistakes we made. Only one of your family is left, that poor, broken nail. When it is gone, you will be completely alone."

Hornet opened her eyes, again. The vision was gone. The shadow on the wall, so long and animated the moments before, was now perfectly normal, flickering and twitching, but not forming any shapes beyond the ordinary. The voice… was no longer heard. She was the only one in this hut, with her thoughts. Alone. Completely alone. The walls suddenly felt very narrow, suffocating even. She wanted out.

A few moments later, the princess walked out of the place. Her Needle on her back, as well as the small pack she always carried. The noises of construction invading her ears, and the dust making her eyes narrow. Lieutenant was busy coordinating the workers, shouting orders and offering a shoulder, whenever necessary. So industrious, she thought. It was the reason why the Ant was her most trusted lieutenant. The wall was his idea, entirely. Soon enough, he noticed the princess, and approached, standing at attention.

"My Lady, the work is progressing as scheduled. The initial fortifications should be complete by nightfall."

Hornet looked at the wall, and then at him.

"You have done very well…" – she said quietly, an uncharacteristic appraisal, which almost caught the Ant off-guard. "I want you and the troops to guard this village, until my return. Treat the locals well – they are our citizens, and we have a duty to protect them."

The ant thumped his fist against his chest, and nodded, in acknowledgement.

"We will do as you command, Princess. Where are you planning to go, where we can't follow? And when can we expect your return?"

Hornet shrugged, at that last inquiry, and simply replied:

"Family business."