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Shakra is no fool. When rubble comes crashing down from the sky, when threads of writhing darkness shoot out of the ground, when the husks of the Haunted are boiling with shadows - these are the times when someone must hold the line, and stand as protector of those who can not protect themselves.
If only it was that simple.
The first problem, of course, is that she is only one bug trying to block multiple entrances. She knows from her talks with Hornet Wielding Needle that there was another bug in Bellhart some time ago - some fellow with a lance, riding atop another bug - but wherever he was now, she had no clue. The entrances above and below Bellhart luckily seemed treacherous enough to keep attackers out on their own, but that still left her with both the left and right entrances.
The second problem was supplies. Between the darkened threads wreaking havoc through the very foundation of Pharloom and the influx of pilgrims fleeing the destruction, Bellhart was short on - well, everything. Food, water, building materials, everything was in perpetually low supply. Shellwood may have been right next door with much of what they needed, but the increased danger of the dark husks and the lack of pilgrims with the skills to actually get what they needed meant that gathering supplies was... a process. One she knew she was not in a position to try and remedy. There was at least one bug left in Bellhart, she knew, that held both the mind and skills to hunt at the least, but one bug's work alone would never be enough to feed the entire town. She would only have to hope the bug was able to teach some of the pilgrims the skills to help them hunt at the least.
The third problem was that, frankly, Shakra was getting tired. She was running on fumes, her limbs getting more sluggish with every husk she struck down, every patrol round she made. She snatched at moments of rest when she could, getting some of the hardier or more slippery bugs to keep watch for her while she either refreshed her weaponry or stole a precious hour or two of sleep - if she was lucky. They were just short of a mere week into the end of the world, she estimated, and she was already nearly at her limit. What would her master think of her?
These thoughts moved through her mind day in and day out, broken up only by the occasional straggling pilgrim arriving (yet another drain on resources), a warning cry from one of the stationed pilgrims (startling her from sleep - or, more often, a loose meditation she had managed to enter), or the times when Hornet Wielding Needle was passing through; and it was all of the times the red warrior was passing through. On the times where she did not catch Shakra in the midst of combat, she seemed to make a point out of checking in on Shakra each time she was in town.
It was on one of the times where she caught Shakra in combat, mere moments after felling the last of the husks attacking the town, that the warrior proposed her a question: "Is there anything I can do to help you?"
Shakra blinked beneath her mask, squatting down to face the warrior. "Simply continue as you have, Hornet Wielding Needle - bring calm to this land of sorrow. I will stay here and ensure that no husk treads upon this sanctuary while you are gone."
Hornet Wielding Needle tilted her head, a hint of what Shakra was suspecting to be amusement entering her voice. "Will you now?" She took a step closer to Shakra, making the Ring Wielder lean back slightly. "You missed one of your throws."
Shakra huffed. "This happens sometimes, yes. Despite their loss of mind, these husks can prove agile targets."
Hornet hummed. "It was standing still." Shakra winced as Hornet reached out, placing a hand upon the bottom of her mask. "Let me guard for just a few hours. You clearly need the rest." Shakra opened her mouth to respond, but Hornet interrupted her first. "Besides... the distraction would be of use to me."
This, finally, gave Shakra pause, if for nothing else than how odd it was to hear come from her fellow warrior. It was only now that she noticed: the tears and inky stains at the bottom of her cloak, the slight shake to her claws, and the faintest hint of a crack in her mask. Minor flaws that Hornet Wielding Needle typically would have taken the time to clean up, but which she was clearly too rattled to bother with right now.
"...Very well," Shakra relented, sighing as Hornet pulled her hand away. "I shall rest for a moment. Should you require assistance-"
"I will wake you," Hornet assured her with a nod. "Now shoo - if you truly wish me to depart so quickly, then you would do well to find rest quickly as well."
(In the moment, Shakra had simply chuckled and returned to her alcove of Bellhart, falling asleep in mere seconds. It was only when she woke up a few hours later, more rested than she had been in a week and looking down at Hornet alongside the pondcatcher drilling Pilgrims on basic hunting and foraging, that she realized that she might still be underestimating the red warrior.)
It was four days later, a week and a half into the end of the world, that a great influx of pilgrims arrived at the entrance of Bellhart. Refugees from Bone Bottom, Hornet Wielding Needle said.
(All that was left of them, she had whispered later, the village obliterated by the dark thread permeating throughout Pharloom.)
It was a problem. Not enough of one to be truly devastating - a good few of the pilgrims had taken to hunting and foraging under Hornet and the pondcatcher's guidance, and while there had been injuries, they were lucky to have not yet suffered any fatalities. Yet despite this, it was still more mouths to feed - many of which were even more despondent and less willing to work than the bugs already in Bellhart, which Shakra had barely thought even possible.
She was now being reminded however that 'many' and 'all' truly weren't one and the same, as one of the shorter pilgrims stood before her, a smile so cheery on his face that she wasn't certain if he was even aware the world was ending. "You say you can help, pilgrim?"
"That I can, ma'am," he nodded. "I'm no miracle worker, but if you can get the materials together - preferably Shell Shards, but I'll work with anything you can bring - I'd be happy to at least take a try at building whatever you need!"
It's a tempting offer, and one that proves wise to take him up on. The makeshift barricades he builds are weak, little more than piles of bells vaguely assorted into rectangles in the roads, but they prove excellent for rebounding her rings off of, and the dumber and clumsier husks manage to get stuck on them from time to time. It invigorates some of the other pilgrims as well, as he and Shakra manage to coerce them into shoveling up bells for building the barricades. It takes two days, but by the end they've entrenched and reinforced the eastern entrance to the town, and the pondcatcher has a few more hands willing to learn how to hunt.
"Quite the settlement you're putting together," Hornet Wielding Needle remarks on one of her stops, sat at a bench and clicking together the mechanisms of what Shakra presumes will eventually take form into a weapon of some sort.
"It is on the verge of functioning," Shakra huffs, the red warrior huffing in turn. "And as for your quest?"
Hornet paused; not merely in the sense of needing a moment to think, but a full-body freeze. "It is... I am making progress. I can not say how much longer it will take, but I grow closer to it with every day."
Shakra nodded slowly, keeping her focus on Hornet Wielding Needle. Her mask is undamaged, but her cloak is frayed, and there is something... off about the way she holds herself. "...Has... something happened?"
Hornet's grip suddenly squeezed, the small gears and pins snapping under her strength. She stared down at them, her mask hiding any emotion as she stood. "I should go." She gave Shakra a curt bow before heading into the Bell Tunnels, Shakra staring after her at a loss for words, wanting to act but having no clue what she could possibly do.
(The steed of the knight wanders into Bellhart the next day. It is alone, and Shakra understands why it cries; if she were any lesser of a bug, she suspects she would join in.)
It takes four days of Hornet Wielding Needle avoiding her for Shakra to decide she has to do something. The red warrior is clever and agile; she waits for Shakra to be busy with husks or patrols, slips into town for whatever business she has, and is done and gone by the time Shakra is back. It is only Shakra's attentiveness that lets her know she is being avoided - bits of loose silk and Shell Shards at the bench in the middle of town give away Hornet's presence, and all it takes is asking the shopkeep or the delivery bugs to confirm whenever the spider had been there.
It is with this in mind that Shakra finds the knight's steed, curled up in some obscure corner of Bellhart, sleeping through every day without budging. There are bits of food in front of it - all of them untouched, and almost certainly left by Hornet Wielding Needle. The bug looks at her when she approaches, eyes tired and worn from whatever horror it has seen.
She's already set things to hopefully be functional without her - gotten the town greeter and the pondcatcher to watch over things and keep them running, at least for a day or two - so she kneels in front of the bug and offers out a hand. "Lead me," she says, and the bug's eyes light up just a hint. Its' legs are thin and its' body is worn, but it walks out of the town with a strong purpose, and Shakra follows behind. She follows it through Shellwood and up the Blasted Steps to the Bellway station, then down a tunnel. It runs ahead of her and she lets it, needing a moment to prepare herself.
It's not enough. No amount of preparation would have been enough.
The knight kneels at the end of the tunnel, only the barest rise and fall of his chest as indication that he is still alive. His face is shadowed, and the constant sandstorm does nothing to improve visibility, but Shakra can see just how terrible of a shape he is in. He is older than she expected him to be.
"Warrior," he wheezes, shifting the slightest bit as his steed curls up next to him. Even the single word seems to drain whatever sliver of energy remained from his body, yet he speaks onward regardless. "Do not fear; I am not certain I am entirely myself, but I doubt I will be able to bring you harm."
"I can see that, Knight of Lance," she states, standing before him. She wasn't certain what she was expecting, but now that she is here... she is at a loss of what to do.
(Surely, she can not simply sit here and watch a bug die?)
The knight chuckles, his voice strained. "I suppose I'm not exactly doing the best job hiding it, now am I?" He descends into a coughing fit, hunching further in on himself. His steed tries to assist him, (how? What can they do?) but he simply dismisses it with a hand place upon its' head. "I fear my time is not long, warrior. I would ask that you give this old bug the dignity of a quiet death, if you would be so kind?"
Shakra crouched, then sat down next to him. "I do not know if I can do that, Knight of Lance. In fact, I fear to say I have come in part to request your assistance."
He is still for a moment, before raising his head the slightest bit. "Oh? And what could I possibly help with?"
"The defense of the people of Pharloom," she says, and there, that gets him moving. His head raises fully, the shadow lightening as he finally looks directly at Shakra. "People have come together in Bellhart, a village just past the Shellwood. While I have done my best to protect the village, I am only a single bug," she states. "Though some of the pilgrims take up arms, I fear they shall scarcely be enough to prevent the floods of entwined husks."
She sits, and waits, and is about to speak again when she hears the old bug tap his lance on the ground. He begins to mutter, voice too quiet for her to understand, but she watches as the shadows lighten from his face.
His first step is sudden, and a monumental enough effort that Shakra and the steed must rush to keep him from tipping back over. "You are unwell," she says to him, "I am not certain you should be standing."
"Then load me onto Zaza and let us make haste," he grunts, taking another step to bring himself to standing. "If Pharloom calls, then I must answer! Death will have to wait another day to take me, for the people are of more importance than the dark's cold grip could ever muster." She stares at him, caught between bewilderment and awe, but obliges and helps him onto the steed.
(She is suddenly immensely grateful that she never challenged Hornet Wielding Needle to that duel she had planned; for anyone that could hold their ground against a bug of this sheer force of will - whether he was consumed by darkness or not - must surely border upon the unstoppable.)
It is only when they are nearly at the gates that Shakra remembers a critical piece of information: Pharloom, at its' very core, absolutely despises her. It was never enough to have her run around the entire Kingdom looking for her master, never enough to have spent a week straight as the near sole defender of Bellhart, not enough for her to distress Hornet Wielding Needle.
There at the gates is easily the greatest single congregation of shadowed husks she has seen thus far - easily three dozen in number, likely higher - attempting to rush the town. The sparse pilgrims defending the entrance are fleeing in terror, throwing bells and salvaged spears back at the husks, but she can already tell it will not be enough - not even close.
(What does she do? She can't solve this - not these numbers, not even close. Even if she tried to bait them away, they would overwhelm her in seconds. She can't just sit here. She'll just have to go out fighting. She-)
She snaps back to her senses at a battlecry, staring in awe as the Lance Knight and his steed go charging into battle, their exhaustion forgotten in the face of danger. She runs after them, throwing rings flying through the air and into the heads and backs of husks, dragging the attention of the horde away from the fleeing pilgrims and towards the warriors.
It's a grueling fight - they're both exhausted, the knight is still heavily injured, and they are hilariously outnumbered on disadvantageous terrain. Every husk they cut down is replaced by two more, and they're eventually forced into the entrance to Bellhart. The husks are closing in, she is nearly out of throwing rings, and with Bellhart and the civilians just behind them, they can not retreat without risking the deaths of innocents.
The knight lets out a huff of breath as he raises his spear, leveling it at the approaching husks. "Should we fall here warrior, know that I am grateful that you came to save me."
Shakra swallows down her fear and nods, raising the last of her throwing rings as a husk is about to step into her range. "It was an honor to fight by your side as well, Knight of Lance." The husk takes a step forward as she winds back her throw-
A flash of metal and silk zips by her head, embedding deep into the husk's skull and killing it instantly. The weapon - a needle, she sees - is yanked back, and Shakra whirls around to see Hornet Wielding Needle running towards them, skidding to a stop in between them and the husks. "Neither of you are dying here," she says, and her voice is filled with such authority that Shakra doesn't think for even an instant that she could be wrong. The spider brandishes her needle at the husks, a trio of poisoned pins slipping from her sleeve into her free hand. "I will draw their attention; support me."
Shakra does her best, retrieving her rings when she can and resorting to kicks and punches when she's out, but she's not sure how much it matters; Hornet Wielding Needle is a blur of silk, hivesteel, and death, weaving between husks like a dancer, every blow a lethal strike. It barely takes a minute for her to strike down the rest of the husks, skewering the final one before gracefully landing on the ground.
Hornet turned towards her, Shakra staring back in silence - what was she supposed to say? That she was sorry for not telling her she was going to find the Lance Knight? That she was thankful for her assistance in fighting off the husks?
Luckily she did not have to, as the Lance Knight let out a mighty laugh, he and his steed walking up to Hornet Wielding Needle. "Little one! Our many thanks for your assistance; I do believe you've just saved this old bug's life once again."
Hornet turned towards him, hesitating a moment before speaking. "It would seem so, sir knight. I must admit, I am quite surprised to see you up and about after our encounter."
The Lance Knight chuckled. "As am I, little one. Were it not for our ring-wielding friend here, I do believe I may have simply turned to dust where I had fallen!"
With that, Hornet's attention was back on Shakra, who stiffened under the warrior's emotionless gaze. "I merely wished to acquire further assistance in guarding Bellhart; for all the skills the pilgrims have managed to muster, they are nothing compared to a seasoned warrior. I had heard of this knight's reputation, and with his steed returning to Bellhart without him, I had sought to learn of his fate, should he have been able to help us."
Hornet was silent for a moment, staring straight on at Shakra until her shell relaxed the slightest bit. "...Very well." She nodded towards the Lance Knight. "Sir knight, there is something I wish to discuss with my friend alone. May we speak shortly in town?" She looked down at Zaza, the slightest hint of amusement entering her voice. "And I am certain I can entrust your companion's health to you until I join you?"
The Lance Knight laughed while his steed nodded. "Of course! We will shout for you once we see you young warrior!"
Once the knight and steed had into the town and out of earshot, Hornet turned back to Shakra again, though she refused to meet her eyes. "...I believe I owe you an apology, for avoiding you as of late. My distress over what I believed to be Garmond's passing combined with my stress over Pharloom's fate led me to act irrationally."
Shakra paused, noting the knight's name down in her mind before considering the rest of Hornet Wielding Needle's words. "I accept your apology, Hornet Wielding Needle. And I believe I owe you one as well; I should have approached the topic of your distress with more grace."
Hornet Wielding Needle shook her head. "The fault does not lie in you; you could not have known what I was thinking."
Shakra felt a smile quirking underneath her mask. She knelt so her height could be equal with Hornet Wielding Needle, offering out a hand. "Regardless, I do hope we will both be more prepared, should something of this sort happen again."
Hornet Wielding Needle hummed and stared at Shakra's hand, clasping it in both of hers. She looked at Shakra, appearing to come to some sort of conclusion. "Yes. I believe we will be." She stepped forward, pressing her mask against Shakra's for a moment before stepping back. "I... thank you, for what you have done. You are a most wonderful friend."
Shakra stared back, then cleared her throat, willing the blush off of her face as Hornet Wielding Needle let go of her hand. "Of-of course. It was nothing."
"It was hardly nothing," Hornet Wielding Needle replied. She cleared her throat as well, her eyes once again not reaching Shakra's. "Now, shall we return? I would quite like to ensure your efforts in saving Garmond do not go to waste."
"Of course," Shakra nodded, hurriedly standing back up and following her back into Bellhart.
(Garmond's recovery was remarkably fast between a good meal and a heavy rest, and within a single day he was helping to guard both the town and the groups of Pilgrims that went into the Shellwood for supplies. While Shakra immensely appreciated his assistance, she found herself not decreasing her guard shifts in the slightest - for fighting husks was the only time she was able to keep her mind off of Hornet Wielding Needle.)
It is only two days later, mere minutes after Shakra has woken from the clutches of sleep, that Hornet Wielding Needle comes to her little alcove of Bellhart. "Greetings, Shakra. I trust you are well?"
"As well as one can be during the apocalypse," she replies, drawing a rare chuckle from the warrior. "And yourself? Your pleasantries are appreciated, but unexpected."
Hornet Wielding Needle pauses. "I am... also as well as one can be during the apocalypse." She chuckles again, but the sound is fake enough to grate upon Shakra's mind. "Still, I come bearing good news; though it was of great difficulty to obtain, I have gained the means to put an end to this great disaster. I intend to set out for my destination right away."
Shakra felt something bristle within her, something within the hunter's tone that set her on edge. "Good news indeed, Hornet Wielding Needle. Should these dark husks attempt a final siege upon this place, I shall fight them back to the bitter end."
Hornet Wielding Needle nodded, though she did not move from her place. After a moment's hesitation, she kneeled down in Shakra's lap, the ring-wielder watching her attentively as she moved. "I will stave off this disaster," Hornet Wielding Needle stated, her tone beginning to waver. "But... should I not return-"
"Do not speak of such things," Shakra stated, clasping the warrior's claws and causing her to fall silent mid-sentence. Shakra reached back behind her, grasping a pair of her throwing rings. She slipped one over each of Hornet's arms, then leaned forward to press their masks together. "Complete your mission, save this land, and return to us - return to me. I will not have it any other way."
Hornet Wielding Needle breathed in deeply, her voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "I can promise nothing to you." She choked, "but know that I will spare not a single ounce of effort. I shall fight more fiercely than I have against any other obstacle in my life."
"Then let that fierceness carry you back to me as my fierceness shall ensure I am here to wait for you," Shakra replied, leaning back from Hornet Wielding Needle. "Now go," she says, slipping rings around her arms and clanging them together. "Wait no longer, and do not falter. You have a kingdom to save, Hornet Wielding Needle."
The red warrior nodded, rising from her spot before pausing again. She reached into her cloak, pulling out a small object - a cogwork fly, a contraption Shakra had seen her utilize before. She handed it to Shakra, who readily accepted the strange device. "As you have given me your design, I give you mine," Hornet stated. "This-this is the greatest promise I can make to you. I shall return to reclaim it." She bowed, before turning and leaping from the platform, Shakra watching as she descended into the Bell Tunnels below.
Shakra turned the cogfly over in her claws, taking her time to marvel at the construction before safely storing it alongside her bag. She readied her weapons as she moved to her post - she would ensure that Bellhart was safe and whole for Hornet Wielding Needle's return.
(Hours later when a great many tremors shook the chasms one after another, when the husks surged to their most numerous and violent, when the dark threads lashed out like limbs of death and carved deep gouges into the ground, Shakra understood the full reasoning of Hornet Wielding Needle's apprehension. The shadows flooded through the caves of Pharloom, descending upon the survivors with a damned rage unmatched by any living being - and Shakra held her ground, supported by Garmond and Zaza, by the pondcatcher and the pilgrims, by her promise to Hornet Wielding Needle.
There was a great cry, a wail that pierced through stone and metal, and the dark threads shriveled and collapsed, the husks following in suit, finally truly dead. Shakra breathed, in and out, in and out. She counted the dead and wounded, attended to those who needed help, did all she could to distract herself until finally, a rumbling came from beneath their feet. Shakra and all others present turned towards the entrance to the Bell Tunnels with bated breath, waiting, waiting - and when that red cloak hobbled through that doorway, when Hornet Wielding Needle looked up, carrying the battered and tired body of another over her shoulder and equally beaten in her own right, Shakra was the first to lock eyes with her.
"Hello Shakra," she greeted, voice hoarse and weak as Shakra rushed over to her, catching Hornet Wielding Needle just as her legs gave out and she collapsed. "I'm back.")