hello Hollow Knight fandom. I've been into this game for something close to a year now, and I spent a lot of it vibing with the game and fanworks but being (surprisingly but chill with it) uninterested in making anything of my own. But then at some point my feelings and Thoughts about some of the characters just started spilling over into...well, this

content warnings for violence: there's a fight at the end of this chapter that gets a little gory, none of which is described in a lot of specific detail. and a minor warning for suicidal ideation in the form of some of Ze'mer's canon dialogue.

and a minor formatting note: Ghost signs and writes to communicate. right now I'm going with sign being just in quotes like spoken word, writing in quotes and italics, but I'm open to suggestions if there are other ways of doing it that might be more understandable/accessible.

Ghost hadn't known what they expected when they broke another hole in the ceiling of the horrible burial tunnels, but as they climbed their way up and out, they knew it wasn't a vast cavern. The air was eerily still like the uninfected areas of the Ancient Basin, but cold, and empty in a much less comforting way than the motes of void that permeated that area.

But it wasn't the stifling confines they'd been crawling through for who knew how long, nerves frayed by the endless choking sounds of reanimated corpses, so they'd take it. Especially since they didn't notice any threats here. They started forward with the intent of collapsing to the ground once they were out of the radius of floor that could potentially also collapse into the hole (so far, a problem largely limited to Deepnest, but you couldn't be too careful), but stopped when they realized the mound at the far end of the cavern was actually a bug-built structure reminiscent in design of their Quick Slash charm. More importantly, there was a bench in front of it.

They made their way over, only pausing to check there wasn't anything of concern through the doorway before sitting. They updated their map, adding the twisting passages below as best they could and then with their final couple strokes, the wide dome of this area. When they'd finished their usual routine, they let themselves nod off just long enough to feel fully recovered before hopping off. Outside of the City of Tears, this was one of the largest buildings they'd encountered. What was it doing, so isolated, seemingly abandoned? They were curious and wanted to find answers, maybe a more sensible passage back to the rest of Hallownest. At the very least it would be nice to find a relic, for a good excuse to visit Lemm again.

The first room wasn't much, wide and open as if in imitation of outside, a number of internal doorways leading in different directions, walls covered in canvases and framed pictures, too faded and dusty to see the details of, at least this far away. Picking a way at random, they sighed and pulled out a blank sheet of paper when this room also had branching paths.

They didn't run into anything out of the ordinary until they found a room of shelves lined with books – the bound, soft kind, not journals. They'd seen libraries in the city with ones of similar style, but these at least appeared to be intact. They pulled one off a shelf and gingerly opened it. The smell was odd but not wholly unpleasant, and while the pages crackled and a few corners flaked off as they turned them, it didn't crumble to dust. It probably had to do with the low humidity, although the texture was different from the few spidersilk documents they'd handled before.

And then there was the text on the pages. It was unlike anything they had encountered before. A random sampling of the rest of the library (or at least the parts they could reach) indicated that they were all in that language. Intrigued, they pocketed two of them and stuck a gold pin on their map for this room. If Lemm couldn't read it, they could always try and ask-

They shook their head roughly, refusing to go any further down that tram of thought.

Shortly after, they noticed the dust on the floor wasn't even, some sections looking like they'd had something swept along them. Their cloak was too short to do much but stir it a bit (they verified in an undisturbed patch), and besides, there was a trail leading out into a room they definitely hadn't been in yet. They followed it, barely pausing to sketch the most rudimentary map.

Ghost didn't notice how much sound they were making, or how fast they were going until they heard a voice in the distance and skidded to a halt. Tilting their head, they listened. They'd gone up a staircase at one point, recently passed another, and now backtracked to climb it. Even as it got louder, they couldn't tell what was being said, only that it was mournful, pained. It was distinct enough from anything they'd heard from an Infected bug that they didn't draw their nail, but they stayed cautious.

Their search ended at a room even dimmer than the rest of the place. They debated taking out their lantern, but decided it wasn't worth maybe startling the bug inside (and it would keep their hands free).

The room itself was quite small, a window with the shades drawn and a small bookcase underneath to one side; to the other a pile of oversize plush cushions with blankets strewn over it. Clearly unoccupied. They were absolutely sure this was where the voice had come from. It might be a spirit they hadn't come close enough to see, but they didn't usually hear them from so far away. They huffed. Frustrating, but short of hearing it again they didn't exactly have any clues.

Their attention turned to the bed, which reminded them of the stacks of pillows at the Seer's. Those had always looked so comfy, so inviting, but they'd been restrained and not jumped in them. Here, though…

They walked over, pressing down on one to test the springiness. The motion rippled slightly through the blankets.

Then, the top blanket lifted up. "Mi'?"

They startled, scrambling backwards until their head clonked against the wall.

The bug, who had apparently been lying facedown, propped themself up on their arms. The 'blanket' turned out to be a long robe in a shade of gray that suggested it was originally white. That, along with an equally blank mask, covered them up completely. They murmured something in what Ghost interpreted as an inquisitive tone, but again, they couldn't understand it.

Unsure of what to do, if they would understand sign or writing if they could manage something that involved, Ghost waved.

They tilted their head, sighing soft, musical. "Che's phantom takes unusual shape, ah? But, unless che's memory is…" They reached out – it had felt a good distance to them, but they were so small, and this bug was not – and touched one of their horns.

Ghost flinched, and they did as well, antennae they hadn't noticed raising for a moment before drooping back down, pulling their hand back and staring at it. "Le'mer appears of substance, but...if Le'mer is, say-" They made another noise. "Ah, nahlo, but Le'mer can not."

Ghost stared. This bug was acting like they knew them. They'd certainly never met before, but how had they known Ghost couldn't talk? Worst of all, despite their certainty, Ghost couldn't shake the nagging feeling they did recognize them somehow. They looked around, hoping something would make sense of this, when they noticed for the first time the nail propped in the corner near the bed. It was worn and cracked much like theirs had been when they first entered Hallownest, and taller even than them – or, they amended as they watched the bug sit up more, nearly as tall as them. Ghost looked between them and the nail, worrying at a revelation that just wasn't letting them in.

The bug made an inquisitive noise again, antennae raising, and then the silhouette clicked. It had been one of the five in the background of Ogrim's Dream (they'd given up after the second fight, too drained physically and emotionally). The name from his thoughts had been definitively put to a form with Sheo's sculptures of the Five. Ze'mer.

Isma, they'd known before they even knew who the Knights were, from the moment they'd found her grove. Hegemol, another nameless tragedy until the figurine put new meaning to it, lending Sheo's impassioned stories a bitter note (they'd shaken their head when he'd paused and asked if anything was the matter. The truth wouldn't accomplish anything other than making him feel bad). And Dryya… Well, they'd recognized her corpse the moment they'd found it, just outside the White Lady's refuge.

They hadn't told Ogrim about their previous discoveries because again, it wouldn't accomplish anything. He already knew they were gone, even if he didn't show it. After everyone else, they'd been hoping they wouldn't encounter any evidence of Ze'mer at all, but now… She wasn't the most present, but she was alive.

"Che' supposes it does not matter, anyway." While they'd been lost in thought, she'd apparently sunk back down into the bed, muffling her voice. "This world is not one of kindnesses. Only of heartache."

They huffed, and climbed into the pile enough to pat where they thought her shoulder was.

At first, she flinched, but then calmed, eventually turning just enough to look at them.

They tried to move their hands to sign, but she made a sad little noise when they broke contact, so they put them back. They stayed like that for a long time.

"Ahh, Me'hon. This world. This cruel, sinful world. Why does che' wake? Why does che' persist?" She curled into herself. "Ahh Le'mer, you could not know of tragedy so complete as che's, true lovers stripped apart, two worlds that could not meet. And now meled'lover, dead so long in time. Dead, so far away." Her voice had been trembling, but then she gasped, sobbing. It was a while before she could speak again. "...Could che' ask, if Le'mer is one can be asked?"

Gently, they slid their hands across to the bottom of her mask, tilting her head up to look at them. "How help you?" they signed.

For a moment, she didn't respond. Then, she sighed. "Che' did suspect…" she whispered, "and then after…" Once again she touched their head, temporarily lost in thought. Presumably some memory of their imprisoned sibling. "But ah, rare boon you grant, Le'mer. Woulds't you, coulds't you deliver gift to her grave? The gift is, maybe small? But the trek is long. She rests near our Queen's overgrown estate."

The mention of the White Lady sent a jolt through them, but they eased themself – she simply meant the Gardens area. Ghost hadn't seen a grave marker that would have corresponded, but they also hadn't exactly gone down every single thorn-covered tunnel in the place. They took out a sheet of paper and wrote – with a little difficulty, considering the lack of flat surfaces available to them unless they moved – "Not to be rude, but why don't you go?"

"Ulll waaii." She buried herself again. "Her grave is surrounded by her hateful kin. In life, they did deny our union, did reject che's...outside-ness. They would not look kindly on Le'mer's trespass, but che'…"

They thought about the bugs they had encountered in that area, the most fitting for her description being the Mantises. Which would make sense normally, but all of the ones in the Gardens were fully Infected, and they had yet to encounter a bug like that with enough thought to distinguish those kinds of things. They told her as such.

She sighed. "Still, che' could not make such a journey herself." As she continued, she looked back at her nail. "It was been a long time since...che' is not who she used to be."

They thought for a moment. "What if we go together? That way I can protect you if you need it."

Briefly, she was still. Then, she whispered, "Le'mer would do such a thing?"

Ghost nodded.

"Rare boon you grant, such kindness che' has near forgotten." She let out a choked sob, and curled up in the bed again. They sat with her as she cried, giving what little comfort they knew how.

Eventually, she calmed, getting into the motions of preparing herself. Ghost wasn't bothered by the wait, simply flopped themself across one of the cushions (it was very comfortable – if they weren't all bigger than them, they'd be sorely tempted to try and figure out how to take one with them) with their map spread out, plotting routes. They finally managed to convince her to bring her nail; if something did happen to get past Ghost, at least she could defend herself. When she took it outside for a couple quick practice drills, they had to disagree with her earlier assessment. She was definitely out of practice, but the skills were still there.

It was only once they were ready to depart that she got what was to be brought to the grave. She knelt down to show it to them, cradling it in her hands. It was a gorgeous flower, white with a hint of iridescence and glowing faintly like Soul. "Rare, sacred bloom it is, from che's homeland," she whispered. "A delicate object, one of a kind and difficult to grow, even for one such as che'. It must be cherished as though one's own heart, for if one were to get hurt whilst carrying it, it would be forever destroyed."

They nodded, resisting the urge to reach out and touch it, in the chance it ended in disaster.

She hummed, tracing one of the petals. Then, as she stood, tucked it inside her robes.

It turned out there was, in fact, an intentionally constructed passage out of the cavern. The first section of the journey was much easier for it, especially since they weren't even sure if Ze'mer would've been able to fit in some of the parts of the way they'd come. It was only once they reached the Crossroads that they had to worry about being attacked. Fortunately, it was easy enough for Ghost to rush ahead and clear a chamber out before coming back to help her navigate around environmental hazards. The closest call was when Ze'mer struck down a furious vengefly that had looped around to attack them from behind and they'd had to frantically get her away before its corpse exploded.

The route they took wasn't the fastest one, but after checking with Ze'mer that she couldn't safely touch acid (she'd been surprised when they asked, questioned if they could, but been unfazed by their lie-of-ommission explanation of a nod and a shrug, so they (gratefully) figured she thought it was just part of how vessels had been constructed), they'd been forced to take the one route they could find that didn't involve literally swimming in a pool of the stuff: across the Fungal Wastes and skirting barely above Deepnest.

When they finally reached the entrance of the Gardens, they looked up at her and signed "Where?"

"Ulll...che' has some idea, but, has not been, exactly."

She was mostly going off of memories of being there as a knight, with Ghost using their map to know where they knew it wasn't. They managed to avoid areas Ghost knew had higher concentrations of the traitor mantises, but still encountered Petra mantises. She froze up the first time they saw one, but when they simply continued to float around until Ghost got in their range (and then only attacked them), she calmed somewhat.

Finally, they found the spot, behind – surprise surprise – a long thorn-covered passage. They picked their way back to Ze'mer and guided her through what safe spots they'd identified.

As she stood up from ducking under the last bunch of thorns, she gasped and froze. For a long time, she stared at the grave. "Meled'love," she whispered, and, retrieving the flower from her cloak, began to walk slowly.

Ghost stayed back by the entrance, giving her space.

Standing at the foot of the grave, she murmured something and knelt down to place the flower. As it touched the ground, vines sprouted out, encircling the grave with even more of the pale blooms. She startled, but only a little, surprise rather than shock. Another indistinct phrase, this time sounding almost fond. Then she began to sing, in her own language, gentle and resonant, and Ghost could swear the flowers glowed a little brighter.

When she finished, she collapsed against the grave marker, sobbing.

And then Ghost started moving towards her. Less so from her actions and more then because they'd noticed the tell-tale sparkle of Essence that signaled the presence of a spirit. Usually that didn't happen until they were practically on top of the spirit.

This time, it flashed into view while they were still a few steps away. She was a little smaller than the average mantis, and had leaned down from where she was floating to reach for Ze'mer.

They would have stopped to puzzle about how much more awareness of surroundings this was than the usual spirit, but then her claw went right through her.

"Ze'mer," she called, and then again, increasingly louder. "I'm here." And then they must have crossed the usual threshold, because she turned to them. "You can...see me?" When they nodded, she whispered, voice trembling, "Help her, please."

They patted at her arm until she looked at them.

"Ahh, Me'hon." She placed a hand on their head. "Such great compassion. That Che's love might know her partner's heart even aeon past," she said, staring up at the grave and, unknowingly, directly at her partner. "Is it that, Le'mer?" she whispered. "Such grief, can end? Che' can end?"

"No." She reached to touch the side of her face, if she could. "I miss you with everything I am, but don't…" she sobbed, "don't give up for me. I don't mind waiting, love."

Exercising their responsibility as the one with the physical form, they grabbed Ze'mer's arm and shook their head over and over.

"Nahlo, Le'mer…"

Another firm shake, and they yanked out their writing supplies as fast as they could one-handed. They'd just begun to scribble half-illegibly when there was a roar.

On the other side of the area, a mantis crashed through the tangle of greenery, thorns and all. Ghost had heard about the leader of the Infected traitor mantises, the brother to the Lords, wondered idly at not having encountered him before. He stood shorter than his sisters but broader, eyes blazing orange as he charged.

"Father!"

Shaking, Ze'mer got to her feet. "You?" Then, her stance dropped and she drew her nail.

"Ze'mer, no! Get out of here! Tell her-"

But she had already darted forward, screaming.

Ghost watched as she blocked his first swipe, followed up with a cut to his side. They didn't have any way to get her to stop without one or both of them getting seriously injured, so they might as well help. "Sorry," they signed to the spirit, patting the grave before going to join Ze'mer.

As they approached, she was knocked back by the force of him leaping at her. Ghost wove around her to slash at the Traitor Lord. He reared back to strike, and they dashed through him. They got in another hit before he turned around, and at that point Ze'mer had fully recovered.

They didn't have much experience fighting with someone; they would bet she did, but she seemed not to even notice them in her focus on the Lord. Fortunately, the difference in size meant as long as they stayed on the ground, they avoided most of her swings by default. They kept defensive to her aggressive, taking advantage of their shade cloak and timing their swings to distract him from striking her.

It also meant they were taking most of the hits. Which was the idea, but eventually they had to jump back to heal. The Traitor Lord hit hard, and the last bench they'd sat on had been the one in front of Ze'mer's home.

And then he landed the first real hit on her, diagonal across her chest.

She dropped her nail, clutching her front.

Even if they stopped healing they wouldn't get there in time.

Then, she screamed. Bending to the ground, she grabbed her nail. As he pounced, she launched upward. His claw dug into her shoulder, but she hit his mask so hard it cracked and he fell. She didn't hesitate, plunging her nail into his chest.

He twitched, and then fell still.

But Ze'mer either didn't notice or didn't care. Sobbing a river of curses and pleas incomprehensible from emotion and language, she repeated her last motion over and over until the whole area around her was splattered with Infection.

Ghost ran over and yanked on her robes as hard as they dared.

She swiped at them, sending them flying back until they smacked against the grave. Then she froze, seeming to come back to herself as she looked around.

For a moment, the only sound was all of their ragged breathing.

Then Ze'mer wailed and ran out the way they'd come in.

Ghost didn't know how long they laid there in shock. Eventually, they put a shaking hand to their face. This had apparently been one of those few times they cried enough to leak void out of their eyes. They tried to sit up. Something fell into their lap, and they jumped before realizing it was one of the flowers. Putting that to the side, they looked up at the spirit.

She was still crying, curled up into herself. "Please...go after her." When they reached out, she touched her claw through their hand, then dropped it and shook her head. "I'll manage, but if something happens to her...please."

They nodded. Standing, they offered her the flower.

"Keep it. It might help her."

Tucking it away, they went to leave, swung back around and hugged the grave marker. Then they headed after Ze'mer.