Children of the Wyrm

Prologue

This was the moment he'd been waiting for. The moment that he, the Pale King, would finally save Hallownest from the Infection.

The higher being turned to the child that stood beside him on the palace terrace. Instinctively, the vessel copied the motion, awaiting order or dismissal from their king as they stared into each other's eyes. A familiar pang in his chest made the king hesitate. This moment was here. He knew that it would be difficult. Even more so that with his other children, whom he'd laid to rest in the Abyss. Just the thought of the failures to create the perfect vessel made his breath hitch. It often took all his energy to retain his composure. As long as he was visible from the outside of the White Palace, he had to look respectable and strong, assuring all of Hallownest knew it would be safe. But it was within the walls of the palace where his weakness showed. It wasn't uncommon for him to break down almost completely, especially in the company of his wife, the White Lady. Her love and dedication to him felt misplaced, and he knew it hurt her deeply that she could not love the children she birthed. It was a sacrifice that seemed reasonable on paper, but when all things were considered...

'No cost too great.' He repeated in his mind, but he felt his will to lose everything for this kingdom begin to diminish. He knew it was for the greater good, to contain this Infection spreading throughout the dreams of his subjects, turning their minds into their primitive, "equal" form, as She had so lightly claimed. His hands felt clammy as he spoke in his steely, regal tone to his child.

"Come to the Throne Room after your training."

The King awaited the arrival of his vessel, sitting upon his throne, and weakness quite apparent on his features. He had ordered his Kingsmoulds to guard the room, preventing any servants from tending to him. In his noble throne, the King looked elderly and sick, his hands shaking, his face angled towards the floor and bathed in guilt. This gave him time to think as he leaned and shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, staring blankly in front of him. If anyone in his kingdom knew of this struggling truth, it would cause mass panic. Not to mention the threat of traitors taking advantage of his weakened state. He couldn't let that happen.

He turned his head sharply as the door creaked open, widening just enough to allow the small vessel to squeeze inside. The King watched as his child gently pushed the door closed once more and quickly pattered over to its creator. Once it stood before the throne, it took a knee and bowed to his father respectfully.

The King felt that same pang again and sat up slightly, raising a trembling hand. "Rise. I request that you do not bow to me at this time," he managed to wheeze out, and the vessel rose without hesitation. The King knew that this particular child of his was capable of stopping this infection. He sensed no feeling and no thought in them. Only Void. The only thing capable of stopping the Infection. The thing he had infused with his children.

He sighed painfully as he looked down upon the vessel, who's gaze remained locked upon its King. Slowly, the King rose and brought himself to stand, stepping down to the child's level. Their eyes met, and the ruler of Hallownest tried to allow a little warmth in his gaze. He wanted his child to know all the things they should, but doing so could jeopardize everything that he had worked for, even all of his kingdom. But he couldn't do this. He could not forsake another child to such a cruel fate. It was a burden that would bring his death.

So he leaned down, kneeling in front of the vessel. A spark of confusion flashed in the child's body language as the king embraced it. It was uncertain how to respond, but slowly, a forgotten instinct compelled it to mimic the motion. Hesitantly, the child's arms wrapped themselves half-way around its father's upper torso, gently squeezing in reassurance.

They stayed like that for a time until the King shifted, and the vessel let go. The Pale King straightened, looking once more upon his child. His eyes were soft and his voice gentle as he spoke. "Go to your mother, child."

The vessel hesitated, confused once more, but then turned on its heels and tapped across the floor. It swung the door open, leaving it cracked open in its hurry to find the White Lady.