So, I know it has been a hot minute since I've uploaded, and I did indeed promise updates to a lot of my stories. However, between my usual laziness and college taking up a chunk of my time, I almost forgot how fun it was to write. I can only hope that this story will captivate both you and I enough for me to keep updating it and for you to keep reading as I bring the story full circle (minor spoiler? Maybe, but I don't think the theme of cycles suits either of the universes involved in this story).

Now, for the actual story itself I may have taken some liberties and based the main character largely off my favorite anime character of all time (a certain silver-haired samurai), so don't be surprised if their backstory seems familiar to those of you already acquainted with said anime. My goal for this story is to introduce the Hunter as a sort of wild card to the story of Akame ga Kill—which, as most of you who are reading this likely know is not a show for those who get attached to characters easily (like myself). Yes, I will be trying to use him as realistically as possible to prevent a good deal of the deaths that happened throughout the original story, but sadly some will be necessary for plot progression (sorry, Aniki). Without further spoilers, enjoy (and please don't tear it up too bad, it's been so long since I watched the show and I don't know if I can go through it all again).

Bloodborne is property of FromSoftware and Sony Corporation. Akame ga Kill is property of Square Enix and Takahiro. I only own this computer and other various belongings.

Chapter 1:

"Ghosts Aren't the Only Ones Who Run Wild Around Graveyards"

"You know, if you want a clean cut, you'll have to stop shaking your hands so damn much."

The Good Hunter startled at the voice of his mentor admonishing him for his hesitation, almost dropping the blade in his hand. "You have no reason to hold back now," Gehrman continued before closing his eyes with a slight smirk. "You passed your final test, and now I can no longer teach you anything. It's only fitting you release this old man from his sentence." Turning back to look at his latest student, he noticed the shaking had stopped, but the blade had lowered to the grass. There was a pause before the young hunter spoke, his voice distant and hesitant.

"Sensei, what happens to those who are no longer bonded to the Dream?" he asked. "Do they wake from it as though nothing happened? Are they returned to their time outside the Dream?" Gehrman blinked, seemingly at a loss for words, before turning his back fully to his student. He lifted his eyes to the cloudy world of the Hunter's Dream, then lowered to the gravestones littering the meadow before closing again as he sighed.

"I would like to tell you that all of them left of their own free will," he said, "but sometimes the hunt gets to them." He paused, seemingly reminiscing on the memories of the graveyard. "Nonetheless, all of them were returned to the waking world. What awaited them however, I am unaware of." The Good Hunter remained unmoving, waiting for the rest of their teacher's answer.

Gehrman chuckled softly, a noise his student had never heard, before continuing his piece.

"The many hunters I have trained and guided, and out of all of them you chose to remain above the hunt." He shook his head slightly. "Maybe the Doll was right to call you 'Good'." The other hunter blinked.

"I thought you tried to avoid her?" Gehrman scoffed and said, "As much as I could, but…" He turned to look the Hunter in the eyes. "As you should know, neither of them can be easily ignored." Surprise widened the hunter's eyes for a moment, before understanding took its place. "She…" The Good Hunter hesitated slightly, before continuing. "She showed me what happened at the village." Gehrman stared still, and the Hunter swallowed thickly before continuing. "I know it haunts you, and I know you took your post to atone for whatever sins you committed." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before opening them back up to meet Gehrman's.

"I want to free you, but what happens to you after that?" Gehrman stared still, so he continued with desperation leaking into his voice. "You gave me a way to defend myself, to defend others. You told me that the tools of a hunter weren't for hunting beasts, but for saving others from them. What happens if I wake up to nothing? What happens if you wake up to nothing?" Gehrman stared back at him with a blank expression, but before the young hunter could say more his teacher beat him to it.

"I can smell her blessing on you." This confused the young hunter, but before he could ask, Gehrman answered. "You freed the child from the nightmare, did you not?" Realizing what he was referring to, the hunter nodded, causing Gehrman to smile. "Your scent is that of a sea breeze. Along with your usual strawberries, of course." He turned back, looking up into the sky of the Dream.

"The rage of Kos is something I am well acquainted with, but her gratitude and care are something you must explore for yourself. I believe that she is aware I am ready to leave this dream, and that she believes you to have relieved me of the weight of my sins." Gehrman took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. "I can only hope you are ready for what comes after my passing."

The Good Hunter paused, sparing a knowing glance at the pale orb hovering in the sky, before wiping his damp eyes and turning back to his mentor as he raised his blade. Before he could say anything further, his mentor broke the silence.

"Perhaps you're the right one."

The young hunter stilled, wondering what Gehrman meant but before he could ask, the old man chuckled.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Laurence." He then turned his head slightly to look at his student. Seeing a soft smile on his teacher's face, the Good Hunter froze up.

"Thank you."

One moment. Another. Then, as a saddened smile graced his face before the tears could fully form, the hunter swung.

It hadn't been one second after Gehrman's body dissolved into ash and the wind blew it into the sky, that the Moon Presence had made herself known. As the blood-red moon sank towards the meadow, the figure outlined by its glow became clearer to the Good Hunter. A ghastly figure, with a skeletal ribcage—seeming to have been pulled apart so the ribs no longer met in the middle—and long, spindly arms stretched out as if to embrace the hunter. The head was a mass of equally sinewy tentacles, flickering against each other behind the gaunt hole of a face.

What unnerved the hunter the most, however was the calm that seemed to emanate from the creature, as if it were luring him towards its sweet, alluring grasp. As he approached, it extended more tentacles out to greet him, some looping around behind him to pull him closer, faster to the monster presented before him.

Before he knew it, he was mere inches away the Great One, maintaining his blank stare with its empty face. He saw the tentacles reach out, felt them wrap around him and lift him up to the eldritch horror. As his face drew closer to the Great One's, his arms seemed to lift of their own accord to meet the shoulders of the Moon Presence, his own body and instincts longing for the motherly touch the being in front of him seemed to exude.

"Oh, a hunter, are ya? And an outsider? What a mess you've been caught up in. And tonight, of all nights."

His mind, however, had other plans. Memories, both bidden and not, all pushed and shoved each other towards the front of his thoughts.

A kind, weary smile. "I'd like to tender my thanks, but I haven't much to offer…all I can give is my blood. But would you even take a whore's blood?"

The hunter saw his experiences within Yharnam flashing past his mind's eye, reminding him of what he had set out for in the first place.

A warm, and grateful embrace. "Yes okay, thank you very much mister hunter! I love you almost as much as mum and dad, and grandad!"

His face contorted as the Moon Presence attempted to imprint upon him, digging into his psyche to establish a bond between him and the dream, between he and her.

"The time has come again I fear. But if the fates smile upon us, we'll soon meet again. Farewell, dear friend." He raised his arm in farewell.

He could feel it. Her mind and consciousness attempting to strip him of his humanity and bind his consciousness to the dream. The clawing against the inner walls of his mind and sanity.

"You seek the secrets held by the Nightmare, do you not?" A nod. "Then here's what you must do. Climb the Astral Clocktower, and kill Maria. She hides the real secret."

His fists clenched, he allowed his anger and frustration to seep through his inner walls for the Moon Presence to see and feel. He felt the pause in her attempts to indoctrinate him, felt her confusion as his humanity slowly flowed out to meet her prodding touch.

A soft, gentle touch. "A corpse…should be left well alone."

The Good Hunter could feel the torturous sensation of her mind attempting to seal his independence away, but he could also feel her desperation, her panic at his refusal to cooperate.

Sweet, soft lips on his. "My hunter, I shall always be at your side, whether you see me or not."

Was it raining? No, it never rained in the Dream. Yet still his face remained wet, stained from his eyes to his chin, with his teeth grit and a pained grimace upon his face.

His hand, ripping her beating heart from her chest. "My hunter, please. Set them free. Set them all free."

The Moon Presence could sense his anger as it flowed more freely. His anguish and suffering, all backfiring in her grip. He made sure she felt all of it.

A wheezing, dying breath. A gentle hand, clasped around his own. "Sweet child of Kos, returned to the ocean. A bottomless curse, a bottomless sea. Accepting of all that there is, and can be."

He snarled, feeling the Moon Presence attempt to retreat from his mind. He latched on, ensuring she felt all that he did, as his emotions and memories broke through the walls and tore into her mind.

A laugh, followed by a bloody cough. "Don't you ever listen to your elders?" … "No matter, you did save my life. Let me rest a while…I'll be fine, just wait."

Before she could retreat from the embrace, he gripped her body with all his strength, the Dream beginning to rumble as the two struggled against each other.

"Good hunter. This may sound strange, but…have I somehow changed? Moments ago, from some place, perhaps deep within, I sensed a liberation from heavy shackles. Not that I would know…How passing strange…"

She finally broke from his grip, nursing her wounds from his iron grip. Turning her attention back to him, she saw him rise from where she dropped him, drawing a deep breath.

Two figures, both panting heavily. One with a blade hovering above its throat. "You freed them? Ludwig? Laurence? Maria?" A wheezing chuckle. "Then perhaps you can save us all. Tell me…did you find your answer?" A hesitant nod. Laughter. "By Kos, you really are something aren't you, my pupil?" A firm hand, pulling on another. "Then perhaps you can help set this old fool free."

He opened his eyes to see the Moon Presence regarding him apprehensively. He turned to look for something, before his sight landed on his blade. Before he could move, it slid on the grass before jumping into his grasp. Suddenly the hunter was wreathed in a pale glow, shining brightly upon the meadow and his surroundings.

She hissed at him, assuming a position not unlike a cat ready to pounce. Flicking his eyes to her, he turned to face the creature that had brought him to this dream. That had subjected his mentor to Kos-knows-how-many years of overseeing the dream. That had torn his first friend away from him and left her to bleed out on the stairs. That had ripped a young girl's family away. That had robbed him of his love.

All of his anger and hatred and despair. All focused on one target.

Before he knew it, his body moved for him, almost as if another force moved for him. The Good Hunter raised his sword to point at the Great One in front of him, followed by his other hand raising his pistol to cross over the blade and point to his right side. He uttered four words.

"Your dream ends here."

They both snarled and leapt at each other.

They stood at a standstill, each nursing wounds the other had managed to score on them. The Good Hunter leaned slightly on his blade as lifeblood dripped from his chest, the gaping slash she had left him with slowly healing. He saw her seemingly appraising him from afar, holding her own injured extremities close. He put one foot forward, intent on finishing the fight.

'Why?'

The hunter paused, hearing her voice invade his thoughts again, this time with hesitation and confusion.

'Why do you struggle? After seeing all that your world has for you, you still fight to end this dream?'

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then he laughed.

"'Why?' You're kidding me, right?" Her head tilted to the side. "All of this that happened, has happened because you wanted a puppet. Because you wanted your hand in this world and wouldn't let go until it was just you." He shook his head.

"I saw all of what happened at the hamlet, all of what happened in the labyrinths beneath Yharnam. I stopped the Mensis ritual from bringing even more chaos to the real world. I even put to rest the sins of my predecessors, something," he pointed his blade at her, "that you could have easily done yourself. You intentionally let this horrorfest continue. And for what, more power? To be the last of your kind standing?" He waited for a response, but none came.

"I know you saw what became of your sister. How she was alone, sitting in that chamber waiting for someone, anyone, to free her from that torment." His words came out a snarl, his face twisted with hatred. "You let her rot in that cell, that prison they made for her. You left her real form to rot in the labyrinth. You left your family to die to this hellscape that was your creation. Oedon was banished from this realm by your doing, and Kos was murdered by the Church—under your watch." Letting the weight of his blade sink itself into the ground, the hunter stabbed pointedly at her with his other hand.

"You are the sole reason I am even here. I came from far away to save myself from a mortal illness, and now I stand here against the last Great One." He laughed inwardly at the absurdity of her question. "So ask me again, why I still fight. Because the reason will always be the same."

'You believe you have nothing left to lose.'

He smirked. "Well, now." He clapped his hands together weakly, causing her to jolt in surprise. "You have me all figured out, don't you? Everything I held dear in this damned city, all of it is gone. All thanks to you." Pausing, he reached for his blade, grasping the hilt and pulling it from the damp grass.

'I never wanted to lose them.'

Stopping in his tracks, he turned his eyes to the Moon Presence. To a small surprise, he saw her head lowered, almost as if in shame.

'I wanted to bring them back, to stay with me here in the safety of the dream.'

"Then why not?" Skepticism wrote itself across his face as he questioned the being in front of him. "Your power would have been more than sufficient. You could have easily put an end to the scourge and brought them back here." If she did not want power, then what could have been her reason for the Endless Night? She was holding something from him.

'To descend to your world, would have meant revealing my existence to all of your kind, ensuring the loss of that I desired forever.'

Something was lurking at the back of his mind, something that was telling him he knew what she meant. What it was, though, he was still in the dark about. "What, then, did you want? What was this grand plan of yours for, if not to be the last?" His question hung in the air for quite some time before she deigned to answer him, as if the answer was a dangerous secret.

'I desired the same as all my kind. More than any of my brothers and sisters.'

Confusion flitted across his mind, before remembering the vision he experienced through the Third Cord.

'Every Great One loses its child, then yearns for a surrogate.'

Lowering his eyes to his feet, the Good Hunter realized something. He had never truly understood what Eileen described to be the whisperings of the blood. Even when he would use the vials, he never felt that rush of euphoria so many hunters would talk about. He chalked it up to personal taste, but he would always suspect there was something else to it.

Raising his hand to his vision, he slowly removed the glove, eyes widening as his fears were confirmed. His skin, normally lightly tanned and nicked with scars from various hunts, was translucent and glowing a gentle blue. Even worse, he saw no bone, no cartilage outlined underneath. Ripping the glove from his other hand, he was met with an identical sight. As he stared in shock and horror, he began to hear them. The whispers. In his head.

"What…have you done…to me?" His voiced shook as he stumbled back slightly. "What did you do?!" The whispers grew, becoming louder and louder until he could see everything. The soft light of the moon, washing over a forest. The laughter of children playing in the sun. Everything in the waking world he could see and more. It was insanity. His hands clasped his head, hoping to quell the voices and visions. Then, he felt her.

'I saw you the moment you set foot in Yharnam. Your mind, untainted and invulnerable to the madness of the plague. I saw your greatness held captive, your insight dormant. I saw what I needed.'

The whispers ceased. He looked up to see her standing over him, all previous aggression seemingly having vanished from her body language. One of her limbs moved to caress his face.

'I saw my child, and I wanted it.'

His eyes widened, and he staggered away from her desperately.

"NO!" Gasping for air, he righted himself and assumed a defensive position. She did not move from her spot, only tilting her head slightly. "I am not some monstrosity's child! I—" He paused to steady his breathing. "I came here to cure my illness, not become some primordial surrogate for a tyrannical beast!" As he spoke those words, he could feel her flinch as if he had wounded her feelings.

"You let the plague tear out this city's heart, and you expect me to forgive you for it? All for you to replace your child?!" he spat, furious at the notion that this, this monster, had chosen to throw away countless lives all for one personal endeavor. The eldritch being responded by flaring her tentacles, angrily hovering over him.

'What would you know of a mother's pain?!' Her voice surged through his thoughts, angry and desperate. 'The agony of losing a child to mere fate, all at the whim of the cosmos?! What could you understand?!' At this, his eyes flared a dangerous crimson. All he saw was red as he lunged for her, grasping her neck with one hand and yanking her down to eye level. He could sense her fury turn to panic as he leveled his malevolent gaze with her empty sockets.

"There was a little girl in the central area of the city." His voice came out a barely restrained hiss, he reached his other hand up to hold on her other side for emphasis. "The daughter of a hunter, one I put to rest shortly after meeting her. Her mother had been slaughtered by the father in his beastly rage—which, might I add, was part of your doing—and she had no one." He heaved and threw the Moon Presence to the ground before leveling his blade with her head.

"I took her with me to the Ward. There, I thought she was safe. Until," At this he leaned his head down to ensure she saw the fury in his eyes. "Someone, a beast hidden in plain sight, tore her away from me." The blade pushed closer to her face.

"So, tell me again, how I know nothing of loss. Tell me how I couldn't possibly understand the pain of having something so close to you ripped and torn apart in front of your very eyes." He waited for a response, and when none came, he could hold back no longer. A cry of rage rang from his throat as he drew the sword back for the killing blow.

'You believed her to be your own?' His blade hung in the air, poised above his head and ready to cleave this monstrosity in two. 'You took in a child, not unlike as I wanted?'

He stared at the monster incredulously.

"You think you can compare the two? I did it out of necessity for her sake. You wanted your child at the sake of other lives. Don't make me laugh." Before he could swing, a tendril gently snaked its way up his face to rest upon his cheek.

'You see me as a monster, a demon of ill-intent. You think me an enemy. I merely wanted a child of my own, yet even in what should be my moment of happiness, I am detested and cast out by my own progeny.' A noise that sounded almost like a laugh emanated from the celestial being's body. 'You blame me for the misdoings of your fellow man. It was your Church's arrogance and blind faith in themselves that ushered their destruction. I chose to let them wallow in their mistakes and took the opportunity for something good to be born of the chaos: you, my child.' She turned, as if to stare into his soul. 'You were all I wanted from this world.'

He made to rebuke her, but the words died in his throat as he realized she was right. The Church had dragged Kos to shore and torn her apart. They had subjected Ebrietas to her life of solitude and suffering. They had even been the ones who bled the people dry and watched as those same people were afflicted by the beastly scourge.

But, what of the people? What had they done to deserve the misfortune—no, the nightmarish world that had been brought upon them? He gritted his teeth.

"I care not for the Church and their foolishness." He tightened his grip on the hilt. "You let the people suffer. The innocent ones, the ones that the Church lied to, that they used as sheep for slaughter." She stared still, and he continued. "You could have saved them all, but you didn't." His words seemed to strike a chord within her, as she turned away from his gaze.

'I…' Her form seemed to quake slightly, as her voiced sat at the edge of his mind, thick and hesitant. 'I couldn't have saved them.' Before he could protest, she spoke again. 'You have seen what our presence does to your kind. How they crave for our wisdom even as it eats away at their sanity.' She turned back, raising an arm to gently stroke his face as he stared back at her blankly, his face unwilling to betray the storm of emotions and conflict he felt.

'If there was any way I could have saved them, I would have. I would have done it without hesitation for you, my child.'

In an instant, he swung. He swung with such force that the hilt was all that remained above the grass to signify the blade's existence, but there was no blood. No slash or rupture of viscera to signify the passing of a life. And yet, something splashed against the cool grass of the Hunter's Dream.

The Good Hunter wasn't sure why exactly he was crying, whether it was his adventures in Yharnam catching up to him or the thought of murdering the creature in front of him. All he knew was that it hurt. It hurt every part of him to simply exist. To think that he was at the center, that he was the reason so many had lost their lives, it hurt so much. Unsure of what to do, he made to go sit on the edge of the dream's boundary fence.

As he turned away, he felt a gentle touch on his arm. He looked back to see her looking up at him before her hand snaked up to tousle his wavy hair. The gesture, while absurd in any other setting, felt strangely comforting to the disheartened hunter, as he unconsciously leaned into her touch.

'It is alright to feel sorrow, my child. You have suffered so much at the hands of others.' She paused, before hesitantly continuing. 'Even at mine own.' She rose and clasped his hands in hers, causing him to look up at her through watery eyes. He felt her wipe a tear away from his face.

"I want to go home," he heard himself say. He felt as though he was watching through someone else's eyes as he spoke those words. He did want to be home, but he felt so disconnected in saying so. Where was home? Was it Yharnam? His village to the east? Or was he already at home in the Dream? Before he could ponder this more, her soft voice interrupted his racing thoughts.

'My child, the Dream exists outside of time and space. It is a reality I created from my own longing.' He stared back, confused.

'Our fight went on for far too long, my dear child. Yharnam's time is past, I'm afraid.'

He stared still. His mind was empty. Slowly, the hunter's gaze lowered until he saw his feet give from under him. Sinking to his knees, he felt her lower herself with him, felt his body sink into her embrace as he lost control. Distantly, he could feel her holding him gently in her embrace, her presence soothing his aching body.

"They're all gone?" he croaked out. "Yharnam is gone? I was here the whole time while they moved on?"

'Time has forgotten Yharnam and its mistakes, my child.' She pulled him closer to her, as if to console him. 'You have no responsibilities to the outside world left. You are free, just as you freed the First Hunter.' He didn't even register her words, nor her pulling him up to embrace him fully.

Gone. All of it, gone as if it had never existed anyways. His journey, for nothing. The world outside had had no time to spare for Yharnam, and his newly acquired and near-limitless sight showed him all that had happened while he was gone.

Yharnam had been the pinnacle of civilization in the west but had never deigned to share its advances with the world around it. Even the most advanced kingdoms of this new era paled in comparison to the design and scope of the city he had become so accustomed to. Rudimentary castles and city walls were everywhere, none of the Victorian architecture of his time showing anywhere in the world.

As for the city itself, a mere desert of ash and dust was all that remained of the once-great Yharnamite civilization. Even the towering pillars of the Healing Church and Cathedral Ward were unseen, hidden below a vast plain of emptiness.

'We are no longer bound to this world. My child,' she crooned, 'we are free to roam the universe and explore to our hearts' delight.'

Her words were barely heard by the hunter, as his gaze roamed the waking world. He was jolted from his stupor when he felt her hands glide through his hair, ruffling it as though she were playing with her newborn babe. He spared a glance upwards to see her looking down at him expectantly, as if she were awaiting his confirmation of her wish for him to join her.

He almost said yes. Almost. He was about to. He opened his mouth to speak—

And then a thought occurred to him. One that made him freeze in his spot.

What of the scourge?

"What had happened to the beasts and the ashen blood?"

His question tumbled out of his mouth without thinking, and she halted her doting movements. Everything stopped, as she remained perfectly still, keeping her gaze level with his.

'I know not, my child.' Still he remained frozen, fearful of what the possibilities were. 'I was only aware of the changes in the waking world shortly after our battle ended. However…' She turned his head to face her.

'The plague your kind were afflicted with was not of direct relation to our blood.'

Two wine-colored eyes blinked in short succession.

"What?" His ears must have lied to him. "The plague was brought on from the ingestion of the blood by those unable to control it. That is how it always was, and that is how the beasts came to be." Her hand lowered to his cheek, softly caressing his skin.

'And who was it that imparted this information upon you, my child?'

"The Church." As soon as he spoke, he knew he should have questioned it. All along, all throughout his journey there were signs that the Healing Church was built on a foundation of lies. And yet, somehow, he still believed that even one aspect had been true.

'Their 'wisdom' has been laid bare for you to see already, has it not, my child? Even as you speak, your hesitance bleeds through.' She brought her head lower to nuzzle his. 'You still worry about the waking world I see.'

The hunter snorted. "How can I not? Even if I'm not human anymore, I still retain those memories. It is my home." Her hand lifted from his face to lightly rap his nose.

'Now, now my child.' Confusion lifted an eyebrow. 'You may be mine own posterity, but you are still of your kind. Insight or no, you will always be human.' A giggle lifted that eyebrow even higher. 'And I will always care for you, no matter where your journey takes you.'

She suddenly stood, unintentionally bringing him to a standing position as well before wrapping her limbs around him. Despite himself, the hunter found himself relaxing into her embrace, before extricating himself from her arms.

"I…" he trailed off, unsure of how to phrase his words, before shaking his head slightly and starting over. "You may not like it, but I'm still holding you accountable for what happened in Yharnam." He saw her posture slump slightly, so he continued. "So many innocent people lost everything to the scourge. The Church took advantage of you and your siblings' invitation. I…" His thoughts strayed to his time in the Hunter's Nightmare, to the cruelty he saw from the Church's actions.

To her.

'That Nightmare was not of my doing.' His eyes refocused on her, staring at him intently. 'My sister had everything taken from her, and thus her unborn child's wrath carried her will into creating the realm.' A slight movement pulled his eyes downward as he saw her clasp her hands together and wring them.

'I don't know what you saw there, my child, but when you returned,' she paused before continuing much more quietly, 'I could see something had taken its toll on you. Those beautiful, blazing eyes, dulled to a somber glow.' Her hands paused. 'I worried, hoping you would be strong enough to survive whatever had happened.'

'I shan't ask.' His brow furrowed in confusion. 'It is your story to tell, my child, when you are ready.' His thoughts drifted back again, to the clocktower, to the chair.

To soft, pale eyes, glimmering with adoration and warmth.

He shook himself to clear his head and spoke in response. "I…" He hesitated, before continuing. "I'll tell you when I return." Her gaze turned to him, unmoving and blank. 'You are leaving.' Her question was posed more as a confirmation, and his eyes met her eyeless stare.

"If the scourge wasn't of your creation, then I need to find out the truth." He sighed, before extricating himself from her grasp. "Something happened to the blood that was discovered in the labyrinths, something that caused the Ashen Blood to emerge." Turning to his side, he saw his blade glowing gently, bringing a smile to his face.

"Were you protecting me with this?" He reached for the hilt, removing the blade from the earth and shaking it free of dirt. "Ludwig spoke of the 'guiding moonlight' often, even near death." Flipping the sword in his hand, he noticed runes not unlike those Caryll had transcribed running up the length of the glowing blade. He turned back to face her.

"Was it you that guided him?"

'He was so full of promise.' That got his attention, standing still so as to listen closely. 'I thought he was the one for me, that he was meant to be my surrogate. But,' she trailed off. 'His bloodlust grew insatiable for his hunt. Even his friends began to fear him.'

'He vanished shortly after their visit to Kos' little village. Even with all my power, I failed to find him and thought him lost to her Nightmare, as well as my hopes of finding my child.'

'Then you returned from the Nightmare Realm with that in your hands.' Her form seemed to relax. 'As I watched you attempt to unravel the secrets, I gave as much of my guidance and power to you as I could to ensure you came to me.' Her hand unconsciously reached out for his, longing for the feeling of her child's warmth. 'I knew you were to be my child, my own son.' She caught his hand in hers, pulling him gently into

This time, he did not pull away. He looked up into her blank, empty face, and smiled softly.

"Gehrman knew, didn't he? He knew what you were really after."

'His mind remained clear to the end, I believe.' The hunter shook his head, lowering his gaze back to their hands. "Of course he did. I mean, his body evidently didn't age much either. Least not in this Dream."He laughed, remembering his mentor's constant complaining about his 'aching knees' before her voice returned to him. 'Even after all the years of his actions haunting him in his sleep, he retained his sense of self and believed in the future you had given us hope for.' His head snapped up.

"You spoke with him?" he asked, surprised. 'He may have wanted to be free from his burden, but he knew it was a burden he chose. I understood his reasons for choosing to enter an oath with me, even if it was not my place to absolve him of his sins.' His hands left hers, leaving her to reach for him before his next words froze her in place.

"Then you also must understand why I have to leave." He closed his eyes, thinking of what to say until a finger laid upon his mouth caused him to open them in surprise.

'You are my child, and I want nothing more than to see you free of worry.'

"I can't sta—"

'But I also know that you will worry regardless, if you don't find the truth.' That shut him up. 'A mother's duty is to her child, and I will always love you.'

A very pregnant pause ensued, before the hunter hesitantly took a step forward, his arms slowly reaching out to the figure—no, his mother. She greeted him with a warm embrace, gently drawing her hands up and down his back until he spoke. "I…I don't know how to feel about this." He swallowed thickly. "Part of me still doesn't want to leave, and another is telling me I have a responsibility."

'And the third part?' He smiled against her shoulder.

"That part wants to never let go."

He felt her pause her motions before she pulled away from their hug. 'Then I should be the one to kick you out of the nest if you are not going to do it yourself.' That got a chuckle out of him, as he rose and turned towards the gravestone at the foot of the tree. However, a tendril latched on to his foot, causing him to glance towards the culprit and its owner.

'Aren't you forgetting something?' As if on cue, his blade flew straight towards his hand, nestling itself in his grasp. "Ah, yes," the hunter exclaimed. "What would I do without you?" he asked, half-speaking to the item in question. Sparing a look down, he saw the tendril removing itself from his person, albeit in a seemingly reluctant fashion.

"I don't know what I'll find, but there's something out there. Something hidden from us." He knelt down in front of the gravestone melded into the base of the tree, inspecting the words etched into the false granite.

''The Empire'? Bit tacky for a kingdom, isn't it?'he thought to himself before focusing his thoughts on the location and summoning. He felt his presence being pulled by the power of the Dream as his surroundings shifted. Before he was fully gone from the meadow however, he turned back to say one last farewell.

"Goodbye, mother."

You know the drill. R&R, gimme the DM's with all your suggestions. Thanks for sticking through this, and I'll be starting on the next chapter tomorrow morning.

Thanks,

Thog