Novel & Cerita Hollow Knight Painting

“Hm.” Hayden stroked his chin, his green eyes darting about his big gallery. Hayden had done today's part of the painting, which means he’s halfway done. Upon seeing the slowly forming Zenos sitting majestically, his upper body bare while holding a flushing Hayden in his embrace, Hayden’s eyes turned red, and he lowered his head bashfully as if he were in Zenos' presence. Suddenly, Hayden shook his head and snapped out of it. His eyes darting around the room

I sighed, drawing my attention back to what I was I was doing. I looked at the painting in front of me, I had sketched a wolf sitting on top of a rock. It looked majestic and powerful, like it could pounce any moment. Her eyes were blue and her head hung high. As soon as I started, I knew it was something that I wanted to show Gwaine. I had finished it a few days ago. Now I needed to put a few finishing touches on it. It was an easy sketch, all it needed was some background color. As soon as I finish with that, I would frame it and show it off to Gwaine later tonight.

[ DESTINY CARTER ] I stared blankly at the canvass and the half finished painting staring back at me.I had been trying to paint something which comes out on its own from inside me but here I go with nothing but emptiness.The picture is meaningless and unfinished just like I am since the dreadful moment.

Void rolled his dancing eyes at me “and you dragged the Blood Demon into it too?” “Oh, I’m nowhere near done” Neeb grinned “it was just to stop me from eating you.” Echo chuckled at Void, who made himself scarce. She had a wooden bowl between her crossed legs, that she smeared the contents of across Mace’s eyes and down its beak. It was red like blood, but lumpy like dirt. Mace accepted the paint graciously, never flinching as it was smeared over the glorious feathers. I sat beside Echo and watched her work on Mace. The warriors paint was beautiful to look at; turning Mace into an expressionless work of art.

As we walk in, an envelope falls from a brunette’s carelessly-zipped backpack and I help her pick it up before she can walk past it. “Thank you.” She beams brightly at me. I don’t bother to answer. I’m not here to make friends, and won’t engage with anyone to the extent of developing attachments. I finally walk into a wide fancy hall way, and I let my eyes roam. Beautiful paintings line the wall. Most of them are eerie. A big black wolf. A high castle surrounded by butterflies. Snakes curled around black flowers. And a dragon painting. A chilling tingle creeps up my arm, traveling to my spine as I access the dragon painting specifically. It’s…big.

Kael didn't look pleased, but he nodded. Moments later we were climbing the northern battlements. The storm hit us immediately, freezing wind and blinding snow, and the fortress stretched below with thousands of wolves preparing for battle. Archers lined the walls, warriors gathered in the courtyard, the entire pack stood ready. Then I saw them. My breath caught. The Hollow Kings. Five figures stood beyond the gates, only five, and somehow that was worse, far worse. They wore black armor that seemed forged from darkness itself, silver crowns resting upon their heads, their faces appearing almost human, almost. Their eyes glowed with pale moonlight, ancient, merciless, immortal.

Kirin walked towards the desk and constantly waved his brushes on the massive piece of paper. Although this guy appeared to be psychotic, his painting skills were genuinely marvelous. If he had specialized in drawing, he could have become a top artist of his generation. After spending half an hour drawing Tyr’s appearance, he picked up a dagger and stabbed it fiercely into the heart of the Tyr in the painting.

There's also a lot of painting hanging on every side of the walls. We followed the two knights when they started walking ahead of us. The four of us were still fascinated with the view and I looked at every painting in the walls. The woman and man with a crown on their head captured my attention. I can't explain why my heart suddenly beats faster when my gaze fixated on the picture.

She saw shadows curling around a dark figure and an injured woman staring back at the shadows with a storm above her head. She saw a Rogue, its canines gnashing and claws outstretched in attack. She saw the Sacred hollow, and the altar in the middle. Then, she saw a woman. She was wearing a shirt bigger than hers, with long blonde hair, but the person's face in the painting was...blank. The strokes of the painting looked desperate, like the person who had drawn them was in a hurry to do so. As though...he would forget them if he didn't. Her chest tightened badly, and then her fingers reached up and peeled one of the paintings from the wall, and then she slowly traced it with her fingertips.

Rosa commented as she looked at the figure portrayed brilliantly on the canvas, a feat made possible by the incredible artistry of her brother. "Yes. This is he." Kahn nodded at her words, not even bothering to turn towards her, his focus still on the painting. He applied the finishing touches with extreme deftness of the fingers. Such delicate movements was a strange sight to behold, when one recalled that its originator was a burly and rough looking soldier. In fact none of the soldiers in Kahn's platoon were aware of his hobby. His skills with the brush was a secret only those close to him were privy to.