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bluwails · 4 years ago

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Ive been real inspired by @chipper-smol 's au. I find myself snickering at Ghost/feral's antic mainly because I have young siblings and in my home there is never a dull moment. Child antics are literally my life rn and I cant help but relate.

So while on a nostalgic trip i was struck with this poorly written fic. And I hope you enjoy.

No edits because we die like men!

The time for rest had asserted its hold over Hallownest again as bugs wound down from the days toils. The servants and knights had quietly excused themselves to their personal quarters and the kingsmoulds that marched dutifully down each hall had slowed to a silent pace.

The white Lady had taken in the idea to walk the palace before retiring to her personal quarters for the evening. Dryya, her most respected and loyal guard, walked quietly behind her as she stiffled a yawn much to the white lady's amusement. She had dismissed her hours ago to rest but she stubbornly stuck to her and insisted on being around to protect her on her leisurely stroll.

" Your majesty, you need not worry for me. I will-" Dryya gaped stiffling another sign of encroaching sleepiness," -be with you until you retire to your bedroom."

She still felt fascination bubble under the surface as she observed her; a warm aura seeping off of her.

As a higher being they will never need these things like rest or daily meals. But they merely adopted the actions to blend more with the society around them. Just like her dear wyrm, Things like sleep were never on the forefront of their mind. They could spend decades awake and unbothered by the need. But they made resting a habit to demonstrate that one should rest after work.

Shuffling down the halls toward her favorite veranda befor she heard an unfamiliar scuffling. It was hurried but small. Most likely a small bug.

"Behind me your majesty." Dryya hissed pulling her nail from her side her alert instantly raised. As late as it was not many would be awake, much less in the halls working so fervently.

As they turned the corner they spotted two familiar horns working quickly with a brush and bottles of ink.

It was the feral vessel.

" You cheeky Sqwib! " she screamed shocking the little vessel. Their small hand dropping the brush they'd use to vandalize the walls. "You are at it again!" Dryya huffed indignant at the vessel as she marched over, sheathing her nail, and quickly bonking them between the horns.

" Do you know how you terrified the Queen?" She growled seizing their ink colored hands. " and to top that, you dare vandalize the white palace yet again!"

"Dear knight, there is no reason to be so harsh. " the white Lady softly appealed. "The walls can be cleaned and the ink replaced but the trust from a child cannot." She calmly lectured using a branch to pet the vessel.

"You are to lenient with them my lady." She huffed releasing them. Dryya was no fan of the feral vessel. Time and time again they'd watch and suffer their pranks. Many a time her nail was stolen only for it to be returned muddy or, miraculously, bent at the tip.

She was not the only one of the five knights to have their belongings weaseled from them and returned in less then favorable conditions.

"They are just being a child Dryya." WL cooed as she slowly squatted in front of them. "Soften your heart towards them. If only for me."

The knight reluctantly huffed again as she faced away. "Praise the Queen's endless patience, you little tyrant, you are saved for now. "

The white Lady smiled warmly as she looked the small vessel over. At this time they were meant to be tucked away in bed. The schedule their father made, though strict was optimize for their healthy growth. She suspected in full that the pure vessel had curled themselves into bed without a second thought, while their sibling ran through the halls causing their daily commotion.

In all honesty, she found their outbursts charming. Each trick, prank and shenanigan they pulled continuously showed her how lively they truly were. When they'd arrived from the abyss with their sibling, she lamented at their sight. Seeing them as nothing more than walking corpses until she heard of what would honestly sound like a farce. They'd barely stepped foot into the white palace before they entered a meeting between the dreamers, with no command or reason, and unleashed the most ungodly revolting smell. Shocking and disgusting the entire gathering forcing them to vacate the room entirely.

When her wyrm ranted about them that evening on how they indignantly, stomping their tiny grub feet and blantly ignoring him, forced them to clean the entire room alongside the retainers as punishment she could not help but laugh in an odd mix of relief and joy releasing a knot in her chest she did not know she held.

Looking again to the picture on the wall it was of clearly her dear wyrm. Her giggle chimming like bells as she observed it further. It was simple and childish as but it was an accurate representation of her wyrm. His elegant crown like horns now simple zigzags, their fangs drawn large and silly, with their tongue poked out in a not very gentlemen manner. (She suspects this is how they saw their father when they ranted at them.) It was crude, hurriedly painted, and was encompassed by tiny hand marks and had all the makings of a goofy Caricature and she wished she could save it.

"I see the throws of art beckoned you from your deep sleep small one." knowing full well they did it to mess with the king again. "maybe we should have Lurien tutor you to bring out your talents?" She questioned aloud watching the vessel furiously shake their head from the corner of their eye.

"Then what brings you from bed?"

The child twisted at their fingers looking down as they snuck peeks at her face.

They signed quickly keeping their ink covered hands slightly in sight. But It obvious it was something else. It was no news to her that they held many things back from them. And the curiosity of what it could be danced in the back of her mind, but she refused to force them anymore than they'd allow.

"You know you require rest in order to grow." She purred gently as she angled her small one's mask toward her.

Their mask tilted in a way that mimicked a pouty huff. Her heart swelling at how cute they were. She could not help but poke a small amount of fun.

"So you do not wish to grow anymore?" She questioned exaggeratedly tilting her head and placing a branch to her cheek.

They seemed to freeze at the and mull the thought around in their head. To her, this was the sweetest gesture. She'd remembered when the two vessels first molted and got their bearings. Though they thought no one was watching, she caught them do a small jig in celebration of their new body. Wiggling their newly formed fingers, touching their more angled faces and observing their budding wings.

" I'd say you'd want to." She whispered calmly retrieving her handkerchief to clean them.

"How can one so small hold such large secrets?" She hummed wiping the pink ink from them.

The vessel signed, a cheeky air to them as they flexed their arms nearly rupturing her heart from cuteness alone.

"Dryya please get someone to assist in cleaning up. " with a bow Dryya reluctantly left grumbling to herself.

"Now as much as I would love for you and to stay up and get into all kinds of mischief. I would say its time for bed. " She cooed admiring their clean face.

The vessel gestured again with more emphasis.

"I see." She hmmed making a show of thinking of what to do. In reality she had an idea of what to do. Somewhere deep in her memory was a song that. She could not remember the face that sang it to her but she remembers it working nearly every time. Ushering her to sleep. "Then would you care to accompany me on the veranda?" She asked pointing to the large glass door not far behind them.

Nodding they streched their arms up towards her. Obligating the gesture she swept them up in her branches as she walked slowly to the door.

she allowed small blooms to bloom on her creating a pleasant perfume before sitting on her stool already set up outside.

The vessel signed again gesturing at themselves.

Chuckling she squeezed them close to her. "Not essentially. You are of two pale beings and void." She murred quietly; her light warming them as they sunk into her lap. "You don't really need sleep. But its good because it helps you grow." She hummed wrapping her branches around them.

They gestured wildly again wiggling their fingers above their head causing her to erupted in laughter.

"Yes." She snickered "maybe if my wyrm slept and rested more they would grow as well I will be sure to suggest it to them later." Feeling the small ones shoulders shake in signs of laughter she hugged them.

" you remind me much of him in his younger years." She thought aloud as the vessel shook their head furiously. " well the both of you refuse to sleep on time so I imagine you two are similar in that sense." She mused as the small threw a small tantrum.

"Very well, shall I sing you something to assist you to sleep?" They nodded sinking back into her lap, placing their head on her chest.

As they sat, staring out into the lush garden and flickering lumaflies below she hummed a quiet tone shutting her eyes calling upon the memory.

Her branch rubbing small circles into their child's back as her voice trilled lyrics long thought lost to her:

Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby

Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay

And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow

Bless you with love for the road that you go

May you sail far to the far fields of fortune

With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet

And may you need never to banish misfortune

May you find kindness in all that you meet

May there always be angels to watch over you

To guide you each step of the way

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

May you bring love and may you bring happiness

Be loved in return to the end of your days

Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you

I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-lay

May there always be angels to watch over you

To guide you each step of the way

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai-lay

Loo-li, lai-lay

Only the soft breathing and the feeling their body relax and their shoulders ease indicated they drifted off.

"Sweet dreams my small one."

Thanks so much for reading. In all honesty i have only played hollowknight for about a month and half and im already so invested in the fandom. (I'm still getting my butt handed to me by ogrim. Please dungy boi stop throwing sh!t at me long enough so i can hit you. You broke all my fragile charms alreday!-🥺😢) You guys are so creative and fluffy and have no problem hurting my tender sensibilities.

For those curious the song is called sleepsong by secret garden. I used to listen to it ages ago before bed.

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wayfaring-cryptid · 4 years ago

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For @chipper-smol shitlord au, this is their art but the writing is mine!

Ghost never really intended to travel back in time shortly after ascending. While he was happy with his chance to grow up with his siblings and to terrorize the pale king he did notice his old friends were much different. Mostly not around but he couldnt help but think of them. How quirrel would react to them, where the seer was(they still couldnt find the old moth, maybe not born yet?) But he couldnt do much to change things now. One thing he never expected with this odd second chance was just how much their mother noticed. She seemed to see right through them, from how he knew more then he should down to how he held himself. He expected her to be upset or.. something like that but instead she was curious, offered to teach him how to communicate. Since then he toned down his feral antics(much to the kings relief) as he focused on his mothers teachings. His letters were wobbly but if he really focused he could get his thoughts across. He... was hesitant to tell her all he knew but he got the basics set. His name as ghost, not he isnt like his "pure" sibling, he... doesnt really hate the king, and he doesnt mean any real harm. The queen didnt push further but did know he hid more. He would say in his own time. He often spent his days pulling tricks but mostly spent it around the white lady. Then they had a visitor at the palace, xero. The name isntantly had ghost on edge, hand twitching for a nail hes not allowed to carry. While he didnt know the fully story of xero turning against the king he did know he raised his nails and paid the price. He may not be allowed a nail but that didnt mean he would steal one. So when his mother was distracted off he snuck. Into the armory and carefully scouted out a good weapon. Some too big others too small. This one too thick that one too thin. Then he found one that was like his old nail but more white then silver. It was clearly made of pale ore or mostly made of the rare metal. It.. wasnt perfect. It had some knicks and wasnt very long but it would do. Stashing it under his cloak he sped off. Zipping down hallways he searched for his mother, only to find xero and the king in a heated discussion. It didnt take much to figure out what they were speaking of. He slowed his pace and carefully walked up to his father. The king and the warrior paused to look at him but xero was not letting go of the topic. His words becoming more harsh and forceful. Ghost stood at the kings side, tense and ready just in case. The pale king noticed but didnt take his attention the fuming bug before him. The king said his piece, forceful and no room for discussion before turning to walk away. Ghost waited and was thankful he did. The sound of metal and metal echoed throughout the hall and neighboring rooms. The king whipped his head to look at the source, ghost in a defensive position and xero with all four nails drawn but one was stuck in the wall. It didnt take much to figure out what happened. The foolish warrior rose his weapon against the king and the vessel deflected the attack. The Wyrm had faith that his guards would come soon but wondered... where did this feral vessel learn that? He ordered that no one train them, they caused enough damage, so where did they learn how to so expertly wield their nail? Ghost stood firm in front of his foe, nail held to the side in challenge. Xero growled and threw another nail at the vessel. Said vessel reacted without missing a beat. He dashed out of the way and took his chance to land a hit. The pale king was in shock as ghost kept pace with xero and even started driving him back. He could tell the vessel was holding back but wanted the offending bug away from the king. When the foolish warrior finally conceded ghost sheathed his nail. The echoing footfalls of the kings knight made the said king confident to approached. As he told the knights to... deal with the enemy of the crown. When he turned to speak with his vessel.. they were gone.

[What you guys think? Not my best work but i think i gave the au a good shot!]

#hollow knight #hk ghost #pale king #xero #the five great knights #the white lady #pure vessel #shitlord au #feral vessel

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nonbinary-ghost · 4 years ago

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A Conversation Between Vessel and Wyrm

So, I know I’ve never posted my writing here before but this scene has been playing in my head for days and I just need to share it. The premise is based on @chipper-smol ‘s shitlordAU where Ghost somehow goes back it time to when they and the Pure Vessel were kids, and decide to absolutely torment their Father in between finding a way to kill the Radiance. It’s such a fantastic AU rife with opportunities for both humor and angst. Anyone who reads this should totally check out chipper’s work!

(This turned out longer than expected: ~2700 words, so the rest is under the Keep Reading tab)

Ghost leaned back and tilted their head to the side, observing their painting with a critical eye. The corridor in which they worked was dark, but the barest glow of the occasional lumifly that flitted about the palace halls provided just enough light for Ghost to be able to make out the dark lines of ink they had scrawled across the white wall. They nodded to themself in approval. The painting, while quite sloppy, could at least be recognized as the Pale King with monstrously exaggerated teeth and a grotesque tongue. They rubbed their chin thoughtfully, unwittingly getting some of the black ink on their mask, as they pondered if there was something more they could add to the painting to make it even less flattering.

Their current prank was one outside of Ghost’s typical inclinations. Until the Queen had begun to teach Ghost to write, they never held much interest for anything to do with a brush and ink. They had found Sheo’s art beautiful or interesting certainly, and they marveled at the skill with which the retired nailmaster could wield a brush – but such things never appealed to Ghost. There had been so much they needed to do at the time that learning about art seemed unnecessary. But now that they were learning to write, Ghost realized that art could be used to communicate just as much as words, and the motions of painting were somewhat easier for them than the neat script they were attempting to master. Sheo hadn’t lied when he said the strokes of a brush were not unlike the strokes of a nail, and Ghost had found they enjoyed the act of creating something that others could see and understand.

This particular painting was not their best, but it wasn’t intended to be. It was intended to stir up the Knights and bother the Pale King, to prove yet again that Ghost could think and feel – and to illustrate how they felt about the King.

Ghost didn’t notice the approaching bug until the shadow eclipsed the faint lumifly light they were using to paint by. Ghost froze as the shadow slipped over them. Their shoulders tensed as they prepared for the cold hand of a Kingsmould to grip the collar of their cloak, or a loud scolding from Dryya. When neither came, Ghost dared a hesitant glance over their shoulder. Shock rang through them like a stag-bell when they found not a Kingsmould, nor one of the Five Knights behind them.

It was the Pale King.

Ghost went ridged, half prepared to bolt and debating if doing so was worth the effort. Their painting was meant to be discovered after all, and it would never have been any question by whose hands the crude caricature had been created. But the King’s gaze focused not on the guilty Vessel standing before him. Rather, he appeared to be studying Ghost’s painting, his secondary hands clasped behind his back and while his primary ones rested in the wide sleeves of his robe. The Pale King’s unusually calm demeanor unnerved Ghost and they slowly turned to face the Wyrm, their hand almost instinctively reaching for the reassuring hilt of a nail that was no longer there.

“A remarkable likeness.” When not raised in anger the Pale King’s voice was almost as melodious as the White Lady’s. Ghost cocked their head enough to glance between their painting and the King in disbelief. The painting, while recognizable as the King by the crown-like horns, was by no means a “remarkable likeness” to the actual subject. Ghost had deliberately made the painting as messy and obnoxious as possible. Perhaps sensing Ghost’s disbelief, the King unclasped a secondary hand from behind his back and raised it toward the painting.

“I imagine that this is how you must see me,” he murmured. “I cannot truthfully say it is all that far from accurate.”

Before Ghost could process the meaning of the King’s words, the Pale Wyrm finally turned his gaze on them. The weight of that unwavering attention felt like a heavy pressure against Ghost’s shell and they found themself tensing, feeling as if the Pale King was staring right into them. It was unusual for the King to actually look at Ghost without some other distraction dividing his attention – distractions Ghost typically crafted – and they weren’t certain they liked the scrutiny of the King’s abrupt interest in them. Despite the fact that Ghost now stood taller than the King, they felt suddenly small.

“Vessel-“ he began, but stopped before the word fully left his mouth. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Ghost. If I may have a word with you somewhere more comfortable?”

So startled by the Pale King’s use of their name and the phrasing of the request as a question rather than an order, Ghost found themself nodding yes without really considering the consequences. They followed the Wyrm with their thoughts swimming. This was not the kind of response they had come to expect from the King – anger, yes, shouting, almost certainly. But this calm, quiet passivity left Ghost uneasy and they struggled not to fiddle with the hem of their cloak as they walked behind the King, following him down corridor after corridor. As they walked, Ghost began to notice that the pale white light that the king always seemed to give off was much fainter than they remembered. Perhaps the Wyrm was suppressing the glow to avoid disturbing any sleeping bugs whose rooms they passed.

With a final turn the two of them entered a veranda that overlooked a vast garden glowing bright with thousands of lumiflies – no doubt one of the Queen’s creations, though Ghost didn’t recall ever coming to this particular garden with their mother. The King gracefully lifted himself up to sit upon the short wall that separated the tiled veranda from the garden, his wings flaring slightly to aid his balance. Ghost stared, uncertain of what to do. They were fine with breaking formalities for the sake of rebellion, but at the moment the King was adhering to no formalities for Ghost to go against. It made them feel strangely directionless. They fidgeted. They didn’t like this feeling. The King lifted a secondary hand to gesture to the space beside him, keeping his primary hands nestled in the sleeves of his robes.

“Would you care to sit with me?”

Ghost rocked forward to oblige but halted before even taking a step, instead crossing their arms over their chest and staring at the Pale King expectantly. While they could not fathom what all of this was about, they could clearly sense there was something specific the King wanted to say. Ghost waited and the King sighed, turning his head to look out over the garden.

“It has come to my attention that you have begun spending some time with the Pure Vessel.”

Ghost didn’t move. So what if they had? Pure was not some hollow thing, no matter how much they pretended to be in order to appease their Father. Ghost knew the Knights went to great lengths to keep the two siblings away from each other, but that didn’t mean Ghost didn’t seek Pure out from time to time. When they were alone, Pure sometimes even relaxed a little, and showed sparks of interest in the language of hand-signs Ghost was crafting with the Queen. Their meetings were few and far between, as Pure’s life was strictly regimented and Pure would never go against something they were told to do, but their meetings had been occurring with more frequency after the sparing match Ghost had instigated.

“This cannot be permitted.”

Indignation sparked through Ghost and they clenched their hands against their folded arms. The Pale King let out a long breath and turned on the wall to face them, his expression unreadable.

“I must admit, was wrong about you.”

Ghost stared, their anger faltering somewhat. Making their hands into fists, Ghost held them up in front of their chest with their thumbs pointed toward themself. With a quick twist of their right fist, Ghost pointed their right thumb upwards. The motion meant “how” – in what way was the King wrong about them. Ghost wasn’t sure if the King knew any of the signs they used with their Mother, but it was what they had. The King at least continued as if he understood the motion.

“You were never hollow – only a fool would watch your mayhem and attempt to claim otherwise. For a time, I have ridiculed myself for allowing you to remain here with the Pure Vessel. I believed you should have been removed.”

The King’s gaze had shifted down to stare at his primary hands resting in his lap. Ghost could see, now, that they were stained a dark black that stood out starkly against his silver robes. A black so deep and bottomless it looked like it would leech the light out of the room around it. A black so similar to the void of which Ghost was made … Ghost went cold as they suddenly comprehended what the Pale King was implying – that they should have been killed. Discarded into the abyss. The King shifted and Ghost dropped into a defensive stance as their whole body trembled with sudden fear, once again reaching for the hilt of a nail that was no longer there. But the King only lifted his head to meet Ghost’s eyes.

“It was wrong of me to believe that.” He paused only long enough to take a deep breath before continuing. “You are a sentient being, very full of life and will, with a personality all your own. To believe that I have any right to take that from you is a crime against everything I have built Hollownest around. And to see the way my Root adores you … how could I ever take you away from her?”

The raw honesty in the Pale King’s voice made Ghost hesitantly stand from the half crouch they’d fallen into. He…cared? He cared that Ghost could feel? Enough so for it to stay his hand in killing them, when he’d never hesitated with all of their lost kin in the abyss far below? Why? Was it because he knew without a doubt that Ghost was not hollow, and could not delude himself into thinking otherwise as he had with the others? Or was it because the Queen had taken a liking to Ghost and going against her wishes would cause strife between them? Ghost almost didn’t hear the King’s next words, but at the mention of Pure their attention was quickly pulled back to the Pale King.

“But the Pure Vessel is a different matter. It has a purpose – one whose success or failure will determine the fate of every bug in Hollownest.” The tentative hope spurred by the King’s acknowledgment of Ghost’s sentience vanished as the King continued to speak, and unease began to worm its way through Ghost’s chest. “You are not hollow, of this there is no doubt, but the Pure Vessel must remain as such if it is to succeed. The more you are around it, the more likely it is to begin to feel. If it sees the leniency with which you are treated, it may begin to develop a will of its own, and all of the sacrifices made to protect this kingdom will have been for naught. You must stay away from the Pure Vessel to preserve that hollowness for which it was created.”

Rage thundered through Ghost at the King’s words and they sharply signed “You are wrong”. Pure had never been hollow. The King’s plan had already failed, doomed from the very beginning, and Ghost refused to let their sibling go through that suffering again. That was the whole reason they were here – to stop the radiance before their sibling was sacrificed, before Hollownest fell to ruin. The King blinked at the venom in Ghost’s movements as their hands flittered through the signs for disgust, for being too late, for refusal. They were too angry to keep the motions smooth and they shook as that fiery emotion pounded through them. Even if the King could not understand all of the motions, the message was clear: They refused to stay away from Pure.

The Pale King’s brow pinched in anger and his wings flared slightly.

“There is no other way to keep Hollownest safe,” he rumbled, his voice tight with controlled anger, but Ghost shook their head. The King’s hands clenched into fists. “We have tried everything else. Without something to contain the Radiance and Her infection, Hollownest will fall and every bug in the Kingdom will be corrupted. I cannot doom the entirety of my people to an existence of mindless misery for the sake of any one bug. If you continue to interfere with the Pure Vessel, you will condemn everyone in Hollownest to a living death. Surely you must understand this! I know you are not blind – you have been outside of the palace, you have almost certainly seen those the Radiance has already corrupted.”

The Pale King had no idea just how much suffering Ghost had seen at the hands of the Radiance’s infection. The memory of Pure’s eyes filled with the yellow light of the Radiance swam up and Ghost recoiled as they remembered the wretched agony in their sibling’s motions as they turned their nail on themself, trying to cut the infection away. No. The King could not possibly understand just how much Ghost knew about the pain the spreading infection caused. They shook their head, feeling oddly ill as they clenched their trembling hands into fists at their sides in their sign for “I’m done speaking to you”. They turned sharply and moved to leave the veranda.

“If there was any other way, I swear to you I would take it,” the Pale King whispered to Ghost’s back, his voice soft with some kind of emotion. Regret? “But I cannot See any other path that will slow the Infection’s spread.”

Ghost straightened, spinning to meet the King’s gaze with a furious glare. Of course he could not know of any other way. He was looking at this problem from a completely different angle than Ghost. He was trying to find a way to slow the infection, to contain it, while simultaneously trapping and starving the Radiance in a Vessel of Void. He could See no way to remove the infection at its source. Ghost realized that while the Pale King had a measure of Foresight, his Sight must be limited to the scope of the knowledge he already possessed. He did not know of the Seer, of the Dreamnail, of Godseeker. He could not fight the Radiance directly, not without a way to enter Dream and face the enraged Goddess, and so he was attempting to defeat her in this roundabout manner. Did he know his doomed plan would ultimately fail, but believe it to be the only way to buy his people time?

“You are wrong,” Ghost signed, pointing at the king and lifting their thumb and pinky in a gesture under their chin. They then closed their fist and pointed their thumb to the side before using both hands to imitate the sides of a path: “There is another way.”

The King’s brow furrowed and he shook his head.

“I do not understand.”

Ghost opened and closed their fists at their sides in frustration. Even if the King could understand their signs, Ghost did not have the gestures for the ideas they would need in order to convey their plan to the Pale King. Their anger cooled somewhat, shifting to a steady burn in the pit of their being rather than the all-consuming fury that had raged through them not moments before, and they realized that if they could find a way to explain their plan to the King, he might help them find the Seer. If he knew there was another way, would he help them do it?

“I don’t have the words to explain,” Ghost signed by drawing a finger over their throat. They held up their index fingers a little ways apart, then made an ‘L’ with their right hand, pressing their thumb into their raised left palm and twisting their right hand so the ‘L’ was upside down: “I will tell you later.”

They did not wait for the king to respond before turning and storming out of the veranda, their mind ablaze.

The Pale King could not See that there was another way.

So Ghost would make him See.

#hollow knight #Ghost hk #Pale King HK #my writing #this ended up more serious than intended but it was sooooo much fun to write

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