Little Ghost

“ … ”

Though no sound escaped the vessel, a shift in posture was evident. No longer a potential threat– the boy was an ally, regardless of how brief this partnership between the two would last. There was only the hope, faint and flickering, that it ended in diverging paths instead of tragedy.

The vessel looked to the boy, awaiting his next move. This land, strange and unfamiliar, was assumed to be where he’d hailed from. A guide he would be, one they hoped would provide the quickest path to their return home.

A penetrating direct contrast to the warrior, hand-holding meant much in a world of survival; avert separation, misguidance, obviate running into monsters, how ostensible; his first course of action would always be to hold his companion’s hand.

                                    “ I’ll help you find your home. “

And for additional measurement does he tilt the bag to divulge a veracious smile, just until he’s sure that the knight caught a glimpse of it, then does it return over him; a safety formed by paper.

𝑵𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕.

Slowly, they crept back over to him– the odd shadow they’d become covered in slipped back beneath their cloak, the same hand slowly reaching back out. With a moment more of hesitation, the boy’s hand was taken again. They held it, marveled at it, and even gently swung the two’s now interlocked arms for good measure. Finally seeming to come to the understanding the boy meant no harm, the vessel left their hand to the boy.

Consternation consumes constitute of perfidious nostalgia; the black mist frightens him of the shadow, whose whole bearing is the notion of inarticulate and calamitous; could they think the same end would met here ? 

                                               “ Oh, Sorry ! “  susurrant words condricits presumptuous actions, when, oh when will they converge? 

                                     “ I’m not going to hurt you… “

“ . . . ”

Though no sound escaped the vessel, a shift in posture was evident. No longer a potential threat– the boy was an ally, regardless of how brief this partnership between the two would last. There was only the hope, faint and flickering, that it ended in diverging paths instead of tragedy.

Placing the geo in his hand, the vessel looked up to him. A desired amount wasn’t exactly given, so they did their best to guess the amount worth. They stood and stared, awaiting the child’s assessment of his pay.

Well, the action assuredly flickers something to light up within the boy; surprise, brows lowered upon the sight of whatever-it-was that lied upon his open palm. He was very bemused by it.

                       “ … That’s not really what I meant. “

                                 “Oh! Uh… Okay. Here.” 

                                “ How incongruous. “

A flowing smile of interest just as full of inscrutability as he resembles to be, all the judge could determine about the bug would be that it did not belong here. As if it came from another word; one not made out of smoke and meat and creatures to roam. Nevertheless; The Judge shall greet t(his) world’s guest.

At his question they paused, a brief nod before they retrieved their previous map once more. They held it out for the boy to see, pointing to the name of home scrawled across the beginnings of the scroll.

   A smile shrouded flowers at the creature’s reaction, no hostility in this one, yet prudence prevails amid the two shadows; another action to come, bequeathing the child to stare at the map they held.

        Home, Where was it? What was it? An apparition of warmth, a discarded childhood; He does not know nor recognizes the home scribbled crossed its map. 

They looked from the colorful array of scribbling and markers to the scenery around them, only growing more confused by the moment. Just how far were they from familiar lands? Returning the completed map to their cloak, they took a seat before pulling a blank piece of parchment out instead. Nail still at the ready, they set the blank paper in their lap and began a rough sketch of the scenery.

   And to the line he executes, the child approaches in the distance, now attaining in front of the line; yet no steps beyond it are needed. The thing obtained its message clear, and Mono was not about to get himself impaled by the mere necessity for a connection.

   Its sketch is witnessed, a picture of something familiar and forgotten, confounding building on the child’s side as well; what are they doing? There is a soft voice lifting, should the creature convert to agitated anew upon his tone; 

They tumbled to a stop, wings gone as soon as they came, and looked about the strange city. This was not the rain they recalled, the building’s far too large and oddly shaped to be those of their rotting kingdom’s heart.

It was not only the buildings that appeared strange, the owner of the unfamiliar voice bore no similarity to any bug or beast the knight had ever faced.

Looking up to her, the knight nodded furiously. It was an understatement, her importance to them, but the general sentiment remained the same. Nail still lodged in the dirt, their hand left its handle with much hesitance.

Turning towards her completely, their head tilted as she attempted to explain to them. It was strange to them, the notion of simply being exhausted of the will to fight. Their very existence depended on their will to fight, exhaustion was never a natural progression but merely a symptom of their imminent demise.

Void leaking from cracks in their mask, shoulders rising and falling as their vision blurred and blackened, that was how exhaustion had shown itself for them. Still, they listened intently to their sister’s words.

Gaze returning to their nail, they walked over to it in silence. Pulling it from the ground, the blade was secured to their back without protest. Looking to her, the knight bowed their head. It was unclear whether the gesture was an attempt at apology, a gesture of respect, or simply an acknowledgement of her wishes, but the vessel held little in terms of methods to clarify.

Although she didn’t understand what had been meant in their gesture, that didn’t matter to Hornet. At least giving her the opportunity to give her side, there wasn’t something to do afterwards, but she believed that she should at least give them something. Maybe they could plan a time to truly do this. So she would have time to prepare, though it would be in which neither of them would be completely harmed, but neither would be holding much back either… A clash, one of true power? Maybe it would be nice, since the stakes weren’t truly high. And if that was what her sibling wanted? She could give that to them.

“How about… Seven days’ time… Both of us can prepare in either way we see fit… And no holding back until the other decides to quit… Does that sound like a deal?” If it could show on her face, she would likely be smiling. She was at least starting to get an idea of that peace… At least something like this would keep her on her toes… She probably needed it. Relaxation was good, and yet she would need to keep herself prepared in case another threat came to bite them

It would work in their favor, the time to prepare, many unrefined skills still needed tuning before becoming part of their battle arsenal.

                THE ONE WHO WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG…

Still, a stubborn defiance coursed through them. Hands disappearing within their cloak, they rummaged desperately for more charms. Grabbing onto their sibling’s cloak, they began placing as many as they could fit. Some weren’t as useful as others, having collected dust after a much more effective charm was collected, but they cared not for effectiveness at this point. Surely with stacking like this, it would matter very little in the end.

If a remedy offered from the kingdom worked then they would have to wonder how severe the cracks running along their mask were. Still, it seemed that the charms were working, just not healing the injuries. Maybe easing the lingering pain that the injuries have? That could be it as the phantom pains were not hanging over the Knights head so much as before. 

Head tilting at seeing the rest of the charms being pulled from their siblings cloak. Did they get them from their travels through Hollownest? There’s a few moments in wondering they found them, what areas had them hidden away. 

Their gaze fell to the charms, faint glows indicated they were indeed working correctly, and something akin to excitement welled within their chest. Being able to rid their sibling of one of the starkest reminders of their imprisonment was a thought they could admit had crossed their mind a few dozen times. Leaning closer, there was hardly a reaction out of them when the goop began to run down their own mask as well.

They let the substance more or less cover their mask, most of it focused on covering the cracks. Unable to see it but they could feel the familiar feeling of healing. It wasn’t overwhelming, more like sitting in the Hot Spring with maybe a cup of honey.

Unable to see how much the blend was doing, they eventually put down the empty jar. Touching the right side of their mask to see if the cracks are still there. Fingers twitching a little, flinching at feeling the sadly familiar deep groves of the crack that runs through the eye. 

“ …. “ 

The jabbing paused for a moment, small pair of horns removing themselves from the weaver’s side. Her question seemed to be enough to stave off their childish insistence, the knight jumping back to put a distance between them.

Nail stabbed into the dirt, the little vessel tapped the side of their mask in thought as they began carving images into the ground below. It was a rather elaborate drawing for the simple message it conveyed, collection of fierce warriors drawn tiny compared to the visage of their sister. Victories in their past battles with her had marked significant growth in their life, from the setting of their goal to the mark of a king now branded on their shell. Perhaps, void of sound reason, they had come to link the two’s scuffles to their worth.

It had been so long since their last clash, the vessel felt overdue on an outlet to flex their new abilities and strategies employed in battle. Despite the gauntlet of warriors physically able to provid such an outlet, emotionally the knight still felt rather incomplete. Emotions, despite not undergoing the rigorous conditioning their elder vessel had endured, they still found the concept a difficult one to approach. Sure they felt emotion, the entire notion of hollowness a thinly veiled construct to mask the utter otherness the vessels emitted, but they still struggled to truly understand it.

Looking back up to her, the knight pointed their nail towards her. Head tilting, they seemed more questioning her response to their attempts to initiate combat.

Hornet watches what they do for a moment, to which she starts to see this and tries to interpret the meaning of such a drawing. She couldn’t entirely understand it all, but she at least made an attempt to communicate about this. Was it because she was important? It seemed that now she’d get the idea to bring it up.

“Is it… Because I’m an important opponent for you?” The idea somewhat made her flattered, but she still stood where she was on the matter. Maybe she would be more up to it later, but right now she wasn’t in the mindset of it all. Although she gained that understanding, it was easy enough to tell that she wasn’t about to do something that would make her uncomfortable. Someone else could surely do this, so she supposed that it would be time to share her own side of it all. They weren’t going to keep pressuring her after all this, right?

“I appreciate the sentiment, little ghost, but I’m just not… Ready for it right now- You’ve grown up wanting to fight, I’ve seen it but… I’ve been fighting for so long- I just need some time before I’ll be ready to do something like this. Does that make sense?” she finally replied. She was softly hoping there wouldn’t be too much of a fight against this. The infection had taken its toll on her, to which it made the work with her weapon something more of a necessity in life more than something to make her strong. She was strong enough, at least in her own opinion. She was meant to protect, and not to battle on like terms.

Turning towards her completely, their head tilted as she attempted to explain to them. It was strange to them, the notion of simply being exhausted of the will to fight. Their very existence depended on their will to fight, exhaustion was never a natural progression but merely a symptom of their imminent demise.

Void leaking from cracks in their mask, shoulders rising and falling as their vision blurred and blackened, that was how exhaustion had shown itself for them. Still, they listened intently to their sister’s words.