C9: Purpose
"Director, would you like to review the notes from this morning?"
"No. What I'd like is to have a few words with the Hunter."
"Shall I set up an appointment? You do have an opening next week."
"No. Bring him to me now."
"As you wish, Director."
Arianna leaned on the Doll for support as they made their way up the stairs from the doors, Arturo having left mere moments before. Her weakened legs seemed even less inclined to support her weight now that her fervor had gone. In silence they passed down the halls of Cainhurst until they arrived at Arianna's rooms, wherein the Doll helped her into her chair, which she sat in with a sigh.
The blonde courtesan glanced more out the window, and saw the limping form of the feather cloaked hunter of hunters retreating down the pass. Her lips pursed as she watched him go, knowing that she likely hadn't dissuaded the bleak-faced man from seeking out her Hunter. There was some small satisfaction for Arianna, however. Not even she knew where her Hunter had gone, and the crow would be hard pressed to find him.
She felt a damp cloth on her face and looked at the Doll who was wiping away the streaks of tears. Remembering what the Doll had said of the Hunter, she felt compelled to ask, for what was probably the hundredth time, "When will he return?" Arianna knew the Doll had no way of knowing, but something about the gentle way the Doll spoke reassured her.
"The good Hunter will return when his hunt is done." Came the soft reply. Now finished with washing Arianna's face, the Doll retrieved several tablets of antidote from a store of them the Hunter had apparently left behind. Arianna took the tablets and swallowed them, not that they had done much good in slowing her sickness. Once again the fear that she might pass on before her Hunter's return welled up within her.
She gripped at the arm of her chair. She had survived Yharnam, and that awful birth. There was no way she would let herself give in when her Hunter was still alive. Sickness or no, Arianna would remain steadfast and patient. After all, the Hunter had saved her from more than just beasts and death. He had saved her from the loneliness in her heart.
Arianna looked to the pass, her blonde hair drifting past her cheeks as she murmured into the air the words she'd been unable to speak before her Hunter's departure. She prayed for the wind to carry them unto his ears, that he may know them. With a sigh she picked up the book she had been reading before Arturo's arrival, and soon the sound of slowly turning pages and soft breathing was all that could be heard within the room.
-x-
The Hunter wiped the stinging blood from his eyes as he stood up, left arm aching and right not much better. His eyes remained fixed upon the foe before him, however, never allowing the diminutive winged swordsman to escape his view. Whatever Meta-Knight had done in that shroud of darkness had definitely shifted the battle away from the Hunter's favor. With a pained grimace the Hunter straightened and felt more blood seeping down his back. It was either end this now or surrender, and he never was one for giving up.
Ignoring both aches and pains, the Hunter closed his eyes and focused upon his small opponent with his other senses. The pain of blood disrupting his sight would only hinder him, and the cut upon his brow was bleeding profusely. With care and patience the Hunter began to dodge the darting yellow short-sword, waiting for that one moment where his opponent would get just careless enough to allow him to counter attack.
The whistle of blade through air became more frustrated as the Hunter continued his patient waltz between the slashes and thrusts. Then he felt it, the frustrated over extension that signaled the opening he had been waiting for. The Evelyn pistol lifted and a quicksilver bullet struck true, stunning Meta-knight and allowing the hunter to grasp him by the helmet. A split moment passed, then the Hunter slammed the fighter into the ground with as much force as his battered body would allow.
It was enough, the blow sent Meta-Knight careening off the side and into the Arena's wall, causing the perimeter to flash with light. The echoing voice of the announcers called out, "GAME!" and the Hunter let out a long breath. Slowly he sheathed both Rakuyo and Evelyn, then began to make his way to the exit and the healing field.
He passed through the familiar field, relaxing somewhat as the strange sensation of all his wounds closing washed over him. The Hunter wiped his face, ineffectually trying to remove the blood that had dried on his eyelids. With a rueful sigh he walked along one wall, hand resting upon the strangely smooth surface to help guide him. There was a sink here somewhere, he knew.
As he reached it and turned the faucet to allow water to pour forth, he heard the far door slide open. The sound of the footfalls and that busy air told him it was Ray who had just entered. The Hunter washed the blood from his face as his agent approached. The bald man sounded ecstatic, "They love you out there right now, Hunter! I could barely get here through that crowd."
The Hunter looked around, slightly amused, "What great tidings you bear. Tell me, is it stoic silence or dismissive reticence that so entices these 'journalists'?" He smiled at Ray's exasperation, "You know I'm just making fun of you, right?"
With a sigh and a nod Ray acknowledge the statement, "Yeah, yeah I know. And you HAVE been getting better at making small talk with them." He gave the Hunter a penetrating look, "But you're going to have to sit down for a full interview sooner or later. And believe me, I'm not enjoying reading, listening, and watching these people practically BEG for your attention." Ray shook his head, "Believe it or not, your 'silent hero' thing is getting you more attention than ever. You'd best be prepared when you go out there."
"No amount of preparation is going to be suitable for what I'm about to walk through." The Hunter replied in wry tones, "I thought swarms of beasts were bad, but at least the beasts left me alone after I killed a few hundred. I can't fall back on that out there." He thought he heard Ray mutter something like 'Thank God' but chose to let it slide. "I suppose I'm ready as ever for this. Though I don't think I'm going to be used to it any time soon."
Together the two of them left the post match room and stood before a crowd that always seemed to be bigger than the Hunter remembered it being before. He and Ray slowly wound their way through the massive throng toward the far doors. Before they made it even halfway, however, they were stopped by two Arena staff. One of them spoke to Ray in low tones to avoid letting the people nearby hear, and the agent nodded, expression a mixture of curiousity and anxiety.
The staff left them and they continued walking, The Hunter's questioning look only earning him a, "I'll tell you later" from Ray. Gradually they passed through the mass of people and reached the doors, going through them into blessed calm. The Hunter paused to shake hands with Meta-Knight before returning to Ray.
"Apparently the Director wants to see you." Ray's voice was level, but the Hunter could feel the nervousness emanating from his agent, "They didn't say why so don't ask." Ray gave the Hunter a look, "You didn't get into a fight outside the Arena, did you? They REALLY don't like it when that happens."
The Hunter shook his head, "No, I didn't. Are you supposed to take me to the Director then?" Ray nodded, still looking nervous, "Alright, lead on. Let's see what they want from me. Apart from gladiatorial spectacle." The bald agent gave him another look before rolling his eyes and leading the Hunter through the halls of the facility.
Soon the two of them stood before the door to the Director's offices. Ray looked at the Hunter, "You're on your own in there, Hunter. I'm not allowed in." He let out a nervous bark of laughter, "I'm not nearly important or dangerous enough to go in there." With a pat on the Hunter's back Ray turned to leave, "I'll go tell them your still 'unavailable' to interview."
The Hunter shook his head, "I may as well just get it over with, Ray. Just find someone who won't get too upset when I start dodging questions I don't like." Ray's face brightened immediately, "Consider this your birthday present." The Hunter said dryly, "I'm sure you'll enjoy it." The agent was beaming as he left, and the Hunter was sure the man would have been skipping were it appropriate there.
At last the Hunter turned and walked through the door and into what was more like a council room than an office. The room was large, circular, with raised seats surrounding most of the circumference. Facing the door he had just come through was an enclosed cubicle with a single pane of rippled glass in the front. Light came from the window, silhouetting a single figure that was yet more obscured by the warped pane.
A voice, somehow...modulated, came from the box, The Hunter couldn't tell if it was a man or woman behind the glass, and guessed that was on purpose. "Ah, Hunter. This conversation has been delayed too long. I am the Director, as I'm sure you've surmised." He nodded and the Director continued, "Please sit down. I don't like it when the people I'm talking to are standing for too long."
The Hunter glanced around and sat in a nearby chair. The Director waited until the Hunter seemed comfortable enough before speaking again, "There are several topics I wish to discuss with you, Hunter. You needn't answer any of my questions or even speak at all. However I would greatly appreciate your cooperation and input regarding the situation at hand."
The Hunter raised an eyebrow and leaned back somewhat, slightly raising the chairs front legs off the floor, "I'm not exactly all that quiet, Director. And before you mention those...what did Ray call them...paparazzi? I don't like being crowded. Or pestered." He noted that the indistinct figure behind the glass did not move as he spoke, and his brow creased slightly.
The reply came from the box, but the Hunter was no longer sure there was actually a person inside it, "So I've heard. Ray has mentioned your distaste for such in his interviews about you. Not that it stops them, of course." There was pause, then the Director continued, "Now for the reason we're here." The Hunter tensed slightly at the subtle shift in tone from polite small talk, to serious conversation, "Hunter, up to this point you have fought in fifteen separate matches, all against different opponents. With your win against Meta-Knight today your current win-loss record is 8-5-2. Eight wins, five losses, and two draws."
The Hunter let his chair resume it's original position as he listened, the Director's voice was coming from some kind of circular grille on the outside of the box, and he surmised it to be some for of speaker like those he had seen about the Arena. "This record, while...passable, is not what I or the investors expected from you here. In short, you've been disappointing to us." The Hunter's only response was to shift in the chair slightly, "With that in mind, I believe I've discovered the source of the issue."
"I don't believe you're properly motivated to win." The Hunter's brow creased once more, now in curiousity. Properly motivated? "As it stands now, the only reason you are here is due to the Arena's capability to allow you to practice suppressing your beasthood without a significant amount of time passing in your own world. As the Ambassador promised this to you, I cannot change that." A pause followed, as if the Director was gathering their thoughts, "What I can change is why you actually fight."
Leaning forward, the Hunter let his gaze cast about the room before focusing on the speaker again as the Director pushed on, "I have a few things to offer you, Hunter. And all are based upon your improved performance here. As I'm sure you are aware, the tournament which we hold every Earth year begins in less than a week. Now, you will obviously be participating in that tournament, along with continuing to perform in your scheduled spectacle fights."
The Hunter felt something akin to anxiety rising within himself as the Director spoke. What if he was forced to go back before he could properly control himself? "My first offer has to do with your general performance in any fight you participate in. Now, this is not conditional upon you being the victor, but rather how much the audience enjoys the fight in question." Another pause, then, "If you fight to a satisfactory degree, we are prepared to offer you a sum of money for each fight. These funds are yours to use as you wish. However, I would like to point out that any currency we provide here can be converted to wealth within your own world. Wealth you could use to restore Cainhurst."
That statement caused the Hunter to sit bolt upright, eyes widening. The Director did not stop speaking, however, "You could even use your funds to hire personnel from the Arena itself. Our ability to hire stretches across every world we have connections to, and there are a great many talented individuals and companies that could provide an almost limitless number of services. Construction and security I would put at the top of the list for your particular interests."
He was stunned, he had not even considered that such a thing might even be possible. The implications left his mind reeling. It would all depend on Annalise's permission, of course, he was not about to take any action regarding Cainhurst without her say. The Director appeared to be waiting for him to gather his thoughts, and after several minutes the Hunter nodded toward the box to indicate that he was ready for the Director to continue.
"Very good. The second point I wish to raise is the illness of one of your acquaintances in your world. One Arianna seems to-" The Hunter stood up so fast the chair toppled, his entire body tensed like a whip as his eyes fixed upon the lit window. The Director cleared their throat and continued, "As I was saying, she seems to have come down with a disease that is rendering her limbs useless. We have drawn several possible conclusions as to the nature of her affliction."
"As you know, we are quite effective at treating physical injuries of all kinds." The Hunter was so focused on what the Director was saying he didn't notice that his vice grip on Rakuyo's hilt was starting to cause welts to form on his palm. "If you win enough matches, we will provide a medication that will assist in her recovery. But only if you win, Hunter. With enough time here I'm sure you could rack up the necessary victories for a lifetime of medicine for her, but I do not believe you wish to spend quite so much time away from home."
The Hunter's hand twisted on the hilt, rubbing the skin raw. If Arianna was sick and he could help, nothing would stop him from doing whatever it took to cure her. The Director was silent for several moments as the Hunter thought on what they had said. Then they spoke again, "As for the last point, it has to do with the tournament itself."
Already close to being overwhelmed, the Hunter braced himself for what came next, "If you win, Hunter, I will personally see to it that you are given every assistance possible in either purging or controlling the beast blood." This final pronouncement hit the Hunter like a horse, his breath caught in his throat and he gaped at the windowed box from which the Director's voice emanated.
"If you at all interested in any of these offers, I expect to see much better performance from you. Do you have any questions for me?" The Hunter mutely shook his head, still speechless, "Very well, you may return to your daily pastimes. Good day, Hunter." With that the light behind the window flicked off and the door behind him opened.
He stood there, dumbstruck, for several minutes, before slowly making his way out of the room and down the halls. So distracted by what had just transpired was he, that he came close to walking into walls on a few occasions. At some point he found himself in the massive concourse that held the training arenas.
The Hunter's eyes swept over the various rings, then settled on an unoccupied one. He strode toward it, vague notions of the future and the possibilities therein flashing before his eyes. He activated the training rings console and flipped a few switches and turned it on. Three faux opponents appeared upon the stage, waiting for him. They didn't have to wait long. As the Rakuyo swept before him, blade glinting in the artificial light, he felt conviction burn inside him as it had when the Hunt had begun.
The Rakuyo struck true and the Hunter felt his entire being conform once again to its true purpose. Fire seared in his veins as he danced among the training images. The Hunt had come again, and he would see it's end. His green eyes flashed. I am awake!