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The whirring of machinery in the background was almost musical, unearthly in its echoes against the crystal. Really, the machines should have been long dead by now, broken down and giving in to rust but, unlike so much else of this dead, decaying kingdom, it remained.
Humming
By all accounts this place should have been dead silent. There was nothing here but rocks, and machinery that should have been still, and infected husks, and more rocks. This place should have been cold, and dark, and quiet, but it wasn't.
Crystal peak sang.
It wasn't obvious at first. Just a quiet hum, indistinguishable from the grinding conveyor belts and pickaxes chipping at the stones. But another sound hid beneath all these others, warm and pure and rich, an alien, mysterious humming that saturated the other sounds, softening and rounding them out until they became melodic. Musical. A sound that permeated crystal peak, filling the still cavern air with a haunting sense of almost-life. It wasn't the machinery. It wasn't the mindless husks, chipping away at their eternal tasks.
No, this song came from the crystals themselves.
Deep in the heart of this mine a lone moth walked across the rocky floor, her steps deceptively light for one whose wings dragged behind her so. Though still young and strong, not yet the hunched and frail figure who would one day bestow her tribe's legacy upon a wandering knight, these cramped and rocky tunnels were ill suited to one such as her. Her wings longed for space to spread, and the hundreds of little crystalline lights around her constantly distracted and scattered her thoughts with their alluring glow. One could get lost in the glow of a single crystal for hours, if they weren't careful- the light flickered and dimmed in a way no stone should have, as if something inside was dancing to its own tune.
Still, the Seer refused to falter. She had a mission, and she would see it through, no matter how her wings ached and her head spun.
I've never gone in this deep before. The Seer ran her hand over a large crystal at her side, the violet color deeper and more pure than any she had seen before. She saw her face reflected in the gleaming surface, a young moth aged beyond her years with a loneliness so deep it was part of her. Is it really worth the risk?
She already knew the answer, of course. Whether it was or wasn't didn't matter: this was something she had to do, like an egg had to hatch. She had put it off for long enough already, but she could no longer resist the calling that stirred inside her very blood. She had already come so far, climbing surfaces never meant for her soft hands, sneaking past enemies against whom she had no defense, never allowing herself more than a moment's rest; surely it couldn't be much farther, no?
She shook her head, pulling away from the crystal's captivating violet glow. I mustn't tarry. Hoisting her meager pack of belongings over her shoulder the Seer continued on, clambering over rocks and ledges, balancing on unstable scaffolding, allowing creaky conveyor belts to carry her upwards, ever upwards. It was soothing in a way, this monotony; as long as she avoided the hostile infected she could almost slip into a sort of trance, letting her instincts take over. The path was treacherous, to be sure, but it was a predictable sort of danger, the type that a traveler could avoid so long as they were cautious and kept their wits about them.
The Seer climbed; the crystals hummed.
It was different up here, this high in the mines. As the walls grew gradually wider, the crystals dimmer, the Seer could feel a shift in the air. Though the crystal's song still permeated the space, it felt less vibrant; the tune was subdued, emptier. The humming machinery was now behind her, and the song of crystal peak slowly transformed from a vibrant tune to a solemn hymn.
I'm getting close.
The final stretch was the hardest yet; though the infected here were few, those that remained were vicious, and there were fewer places to hide. The Seer had to constantly remain on high alert, heart pounding and head turning at the slightest noise as she traversed the steep path ahead of her. She continued on in this way, pausing only to wipe the growing sheen of sweat from her forehead, until at last she paused and realized the cavern around her was silent.
The singing was gone.
What crystals remained were few and far between, and without their illumination the cavern was filled with shadow. Though she needed little light to see, the empty atmosphere was eerie all the same.
What does it mean, if here even the crystals don't sing?
She continued, the darkness stretching out before her, each step taking her a little closer to the end. The path was almost completely uphill now, and the Seer found herself using her wings (which she now again had room to spread) to help boost her along. The tunnel stretched on and on, darkness growing more and more empty, until she clambered through a hole in the ceiling and was met with a sudden wash of faint, white light permeating the air.
She had arrived.
Though silent as a tomb, and long devoid of any remnants of life, Hallownest's crown was still breathtaking in its regality. Stone monoliths glowed with a soft, pure light, faintly illuminating the dust on the ground in glimmering motes as it was disturbed for the first time in eons by the Seer's light footsteps. The shadows shrouding the stone were deep, dark and cold as the sea, enveloping the structures like a velvet cloaks. She walked slowly, silently, taking in everything around her.
This was a special place, a sacred place, the holiest place, and the Seer found herself holding her breath for fear of even the smallest exhale disturbing this peace. This place was older than Hallownest. This place was older than everyone the Seer had met, older than the crystals down below, older than the Pale Wyrm himself. Hallownest's crown had been standing for more time than she could fully comprehend, and as she walked between the looming, ancient structures, not daring to disturb them, the knowledge nearly floored her. This place, saturated with a rich, forgotten history, was now but a silent memorial to those who came before, and the Seer found herself trembling with a sudden chill- not from outside, but from deep within her own carapace.
But as deeply as she felt the crown's alluring song, stronger and darker and more captivating than even the crystals below, this was not her mission. She walked past the monoliths, past the towering structures, until she reached the crown's edge and the one that had called her here.
The statue was ancient, worn with time and riddled with cracks, but the likeness was clearer than anything the Seer had ever seen. This was the light that screamed behind her eyelids, the one who plagued the minds of Hallownest, the restless god who would not, could not cease her assault on the ashes of a kingdom long destroyed. This was her creator, her god. Her Radiance.
The final relic of a forgotten god from a forgotten time was cold beneath her fingers as she placed a single, reverent hand on its surface, half afraid that it would crumble into dust, or disappear like a figment of her imagination. It held true, however, the stone solid and hard, and the Seer wondered if this was what had tethered her god to existence for all these years. This single, crumbling likeness that could, with the help of a few strong bugs, be shoved off a cliff and smashed to bits on the crystals below.
Ever so gently she traced her hand over the statue's rough surface, coming to a stop and sitting down at its base to gaze over the cliff below. The tiny pinpricks of light in the distance glimmered like stars, and as the Seer leaned back against the statue's smooth base, she allowed her eyes to flutter closed.
And she remembered.