#and then he ends up trapped in wyrm land thinking he failed his friends in his final moments

[libertyeveningsun]

[ask-impure-vessel]

Burn the Father

Curses and blessings are such interesting things, are they not?

The goddess whose boundless jealous love turned into a curse, the god whose desires created a blessing upon the lands around him-these things had far-reaching consequences some within the higher being’s imagining, some not.

Which is which, I wonder?

I wonder.

Oh, I am quite aware of all you who address that knight. You children, you youths, you mortals who see what not even us higher beings can. How very amusing a trick!

Let’s see how that goes, shall we? A new chapter opens, friends, enemies and curious onlookers alike!

Oh, me? I think you can guess exactly who I am.

The Pale Court seemed normal that morning, even sedate. Ze’mer was out on some mission, it was said but the Silverfish Knight often disappeared into the Mushroom Wastes for her ‘missions.’ She was the most mysterious of the five knights, mighty and well-rounded. Not strong anywhere, not weak anywhere except in matters of the heart. What had been her undoing in one life would not be in this one.

If the Pale King had gone through anything out of the ordinary, none would ever be any the wiser for it as he held his public court, hearing petitions and meeting with this and that committee, dealing with the practical realities of running a kingdom. No one man is a whole kingdom’s worth of bureaucracy, even if that man is a god of mind. He isn’t a bug of huge crowds, but this mode of existence has suited him fine for hundreds of years. Would suit him for thousands more, even if technology and cultural norms moved on. He even has some inkling as to how it might look like.

(Perhaps you have an idea, too?)

The Vessel had left the palace two days ago. Hadn’t been back since, which had yet to cause a stir. People often went days without seeing the king’s personal knight, so it wasn’t that unusual.

A messenger came bustling up, a seal of one of the great knights in their hand, kneeling to the right of the king’s audience, waiting to be acknowledged as the king finished speaking to the bug before him. “Messenger, come forward.” The king beckoned.

A message was passed quietly, in code. The king dismissed him. “The court must be adjourned for this day. Another matter requires my immediate attention. Return on the morrow.” He spoke calmly.

He rose and departed, the people kowtowing and prostrating before him. So bright, so very awesome his presence was for them. The whispering began immediately. Unfortunately, the messenger hadn’t left yet and would be questioned within an inch of their miserable life by courtiers about the contents of the message, but the messenger wouldn’t reveal, any messenger would know better.

He went at a normal pace through the palace, then to the infirmery. A blanket was thrown over the burden Ze’mer and some pillbug were sharing, a heavy one indeed. They carefully pulled their awkward burden onto a cot. “Ah, your majesty! I am scholar Quirrel-the ah. My friend here-” He stammered, bowing respectfully.

“Le’mer, ‘che will need say no more. Your excellence.” The Silverfish knelt. “The vessel was retrieved, unconscious and injured from the Mantis Village, where their healers had seen to its wounds. It found a worthy battle with this scholar here at its side with all four of the mantis lords. They had together uncovered that the brother of the four was infected and fought to put him down for willingly embracing the infection. Its injuries from the battle were extensive, but it remains unconscious with... worrying signs.” She reported, to the point.

He tugged off the blanket and his heart lept up into his throat, pounding painfully.

The vessel lay there, their injuries serious but not too grave. There were burns in their mask from where the traitorous mantis lord had spat infection onto them-but what had caused the Pale King to begin taking steps back was the dull glow of orange, flecks of it only but noticeable within the vessel’s negative space eyes.

“No.” He spoke in terrified denial. It would have been one thing had the vessel been prevented from waking by some injury. Breaking its shell to force a regeneration was the kindest solution to such a thing-but with the Radiance’s light interfering? He didn’t dare. He walked forward, he had to find out how bad it was.

He placed a hand over the vessel’s head. He couldn’t sense the Radiance? Her light was there, but all he could sense was racing thoughts, terror, agonized pain, despair and shame. The vessel was suffering, whatever vision they’d been entrapped into.

“How ironic. The Pale King’s vessel to seal away the light currently held in thrall to that burning light. Ah-I should introduce myself.” Came a voice like smoke.

The moth was black of body, with a white mask, red-eyed with two very distinctive lines on that mask-one through each eye. Ze’mer pulled her greatnail on the moth, who only smirked at her. “Great Knight Ze’mer, stand down. Though that bug may not look like much that is the mortal vessel for a higher being. Have some respect.” The Pale King ordered.

The knight backed off. “I actually come here with help, Pale Wyrm from my master, though of course...”

“-it has a cost.” Wyrm spoke bluntly.

“Indeed. The Vessel here was trapped within a vision of its future, had certain events not occurred. The moment the seals begin to fail. As you might imagine, that’s a both a most terrible and agonizing thing to experience. Perhaps an echo of its sire’s foresight?” He mused. “It pleaded for help and in the fear and pain, that nightmare of course drew the Heart’s notice. To pay any price to make it stop.”

Both Quirrel and the Pale King looked furious, a crackling sound and growling coming from the king. “Leave them alone! My friend shouldn’t be going through this, they don’t deserve this!” Quirrel cried out.

“No, they don’t-you are right. But he does. I do not like people who harm children.” Grimm spoke, his voice dripping with disgust. “But despite it all, I know the harm you did to your soul to do as you did. Why you felt you had no other recourse. Still absolutely disgusted, oh yes. But respectful of that resolve.”

“We are not discussing that here. What. Do you want, Troupe Master?” The Pale King spoke angrily.

“I wish to bargain for your child’s healing. They are currently given a reprieve by the Nightmare King. Due to their distress, but their mental stress and physical injuries gave the infection a path. Right now, they suffer and if you tried to break their shell to force them to form a shade, you would not much like the result.” He spoke gently. “Healing the physical trauma will help-but it’s what Vessel needs to hear from you that will help them escape their own mental prison. They are trapped in a place where they failed. In a sense, they have failed the purpose you set them to. They do not need the Pale King, they do not need their Master Wyrm. They need their father. Do you get what I’m saying?” Grimm spoke seriously.

“You’re-” Quirrel loaded the single word with horror. “You’re their father?”

Wyrm grasped the knight’s hand. Squeezed it. “Yes. I am the knight’s father. Oh, child you don’t need to do anything to prove yourself further to me, I am already so very proud of everything you already are and more. You didn’t fail me, I failed you.” The king held the hand to his head. “I have always loved you and I always will, Vessel. Please, come home. Please.” A tear escaped the king’s eye, falling onto Grimm’s outstretched hand.

“The price, Pale King. The Heart is not merciful, but it is not overly cruel, either. When your kingdom falls, my troupe shall visit in full in its time, yes-but I will say-you get to pick who leaves with me for the Troupe in the end. I think I will stick around to see who wins this contest. I have a very good feeling as to who leaves and stays-it’s a new start I offer to either, but it you know full well what becoming a troupe member entails.” He spoke seriously. “That is the choice I offer you. You do not get to decide right now. But know that you will have some tragic consequences if you do not think this fully through. There’s a chance that the Heart leaves with two servants instead of one if you choose poorly. Do we have a deal?”

Wyrm looked at the moth, holding his hand out. And shook his hand. “You have a deal. I’ll figure it out, you pest.”

Grimm smiled. “I’m sure. I’ll go pester a maid about a guest room, I know which one and how. Your child shall wake soon.” He let the tear fall into one of Vessel’s eyes.

The orange lights began to slowly break up.