The smell of burning timber welcomed Zoran as he awoke in the dream once again, the recreation of the Hunter's Workshop having been caught in what seemed like a perpetual flame. No matter how long it burned, the structure showed no sign of decay, the sustenance of the dream preventing it from crashing down.
But it would tonight. He would make sure of it.
He noticed immediately that the Doll was not in her usual spot, despite having been completely lifeless the last time he saw her. After a moment of searching, he found her kneeling in front of the headstone that had served as his link to the Hunter's Nightmare. His link to the very one she was made in memory off.
As he approached her in order to say his goodbyes, he suddenly heard her speak.
"O Flora, of the moon, of the dream...oh fleeting will of the Ancients. Let the hunter be safe, let him find comfort. And let this dream his captor, foretell a pleasant awakening."
As he listened in to her prayer, the hunter was met with yet another wave of guilt. He had neglected her for so long, his loathing of the Dream having made him averse to her attempts to comfort him. Yet after all that, she still found it within herself to pray for his safety, going beyond her original purpose to look after him. Gehrman had long ago abandoned her, dozens if not hundreds of hunters have come and gone and yet she remained, alone and all but forgotten.
She suddenly noticed his presence, standing to her full height and turning to face him, her once comforting visage now only serving to reignite his grief.
"Good Hunter, you have come." She acknowledged, sounding almost saddened as she said this.
"Where is he?" He asked with his head lowered, finding himself unable to look her in the eye. The Doll slightly tilted her head to the side, seemingly puzzled by his demeanor. She then took a few steps forward and knelt so she was on eye level with him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Dawn will soon break…this night and this dream will end." She said in what he can only assume was an attempt to comfort him.
He pulled her into an embrace, which seemed to have come at a great surprise to the Doll, as she took a short amount of time to loosely return the gesture.
"I'm so sorry…" He softly said to her after several moments of silence.
The Doll pulled away from him after a while, catching a single tear as it rolled down his face. She then placed both artificial hands on his shoulders, softly smiling at him.
"Gehrman awaits you, at the foot of the Great Tree. Go on, Good Hunter."
Taking in a deep breath, he turned to walk away. He was there with a purpose, after all.
"Good Hunter. This may sound strange, but…have I somehow changed?" She called out behind him, stopping him in his tracks.
"How so?" He asked in an inquisitive tone.
"I'm not sure, but...moments ago, as if deep within, I sensed a liberation from heavy shackles."
Slowly turning around, he could only stare at the Doll with his mouth agape. It had long ago become obvious to him that Gehrman had built her in Maria's image and that a major reason for him accepting his position within the Dream was the faint hope that it would mean being reunited with he would assume was his surrogate daughter.
But she was not Maria. She never could be. But could it be possible that…
"Not that I would know. How passing strange…" She cast her gaze to the side with slight chuckle.
"Yes. How very strange indeed." He said as he cast his eyes to the ground. He then continued on his way, unable to shake an aching suspicion. Something about her had seemed different, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what. Could it be that…
Of course not. It was to good to be true.
Walking through an innocuous gate, Zoran was greeted with the sight of a vast field of white, almost ethereal flowers. They grew along a hill which led to the base of an enormous tree, where a lonely grizzled figure sat in a run-down wheelchair, patiently awaiting his arrival.
"Good Hunter, you've done well. The night is near it's end." He praised the hunter as he trekked towards him.
"Spare me the cryptic nonsense, Gehrman. What is it you want?" He demanded, the old hunter appearing slightly taken aback by this candidness.
"And I had thought that fortitude of yours lost." Gehrman weakly raised his head, his sunken eyes barely visible beneath the brims of his hat. Zoran's heart sank as he hearkened back to Maria's gleaming descriptions of him in his heyday, how he had carried himself with pride and flair. Now all that remained was a hollow husk, a shell of the man he once was. "Oh, it doesn't matter." The old hunter seemed to dismiss this, choosing instead to continue his address.
"Now, I shall show you mercy." Upon hearing those words, whatever resolve the hunter had built on his way here had vanished, replaced with an incessant curiosity. What could he possibly mean by that?
"You will die, forget the dream, and awake under the morning sun. You will be freed from this terrible Hunter's Dream."
Though he did not speak, the shocked expression on Zoran's face said it all. He found himself hearkening back to the events that had transpired throughout his seemingly endless hunt.
His blood had been tainted.
His mind addled beyond repair.
His body broken from the countless deaths he had been forced to endure.
His spirit crushed under the burden of guilt he felt for all those who died in his wake.
And above all, the crippling loneliness he had felt through every waking moment as he weaved through the withered bodies of the damned.
And now he had the chance to escape. To be liberated from the shackles that weighed down so heavily upon him. No more pain, no more loss. This was his last chance.
"No…"
The sound of crackling flames was all that could be heard as silence fell over the Dream, interrupted only when Gehrman began to chuckle softly to himself, his hat obscuring his face as he gazed at the ground.
"Dear oh dear. Of all the hunters that have come and gone, you were the last I would've expected to turn against the tide." He looked at Zoran, who's gaze was locked on the ground.
"What was it? The hunt, the blood or the horrible dream?" He inquired with a forced smile, as Zoran finally met his gaze.
"Because I made a promise." He replied somewhat cryptically.
"Did you now? To whom, may I ask?"
His answer came when Zoran swiftly reached beneath the tailcoat of his jacket and pulled out a double-edged weapon, splitting it in two at a speed the Old Hunter could not comprehend. His eyes shot open and his throat constricted as he stared at the familiar blade, it's serrated edges seemingly glistening in the moonlight.
"That's….that's not possible." He stated in disbelief.
"I see now why you were so fond of her, Gehrman. Maria was a…truly special woman." Zoran stated solemnly.
"But she's…she's…" He struggled to formulate the words as he felt tears begin to build in his eyes.
"You were not the only hunter tasked with overseeing an endless dream."
Upon hearing this revelation, a fresh wave of guilt seemed to wash over the old hunter as the tears began to flow. It wasn't enough that she had died alone, taking her own life out of desperation and guilt. She had been condemned to the Hunter's Nightmare, the existence of which he held much of the blame.
"It was you, wasn't it? I didn't think much of it, but I felt it. As if a massive burden had been lifted of my shoulders." He asked, seeming more and more dejected with each word.
"It was." Zoran decided not to mince his words.
"I see. So even in death, I am a failure." The First Hunter said as he bowed his head in sorrow.
"I won't try to rationalize my actions. I know what we did in that Hamlet was a senseless act of barbarism, one that ultimately amounted to nothing. I had been a true believer in Master Wilhelm's vision of communion with the Great Ones and followed his commands without question. Even when I cut that child from Kos' body, I felt nothing; not taking a moment to consider the ramifications of my actions. And I remained blind to it until I found out what happened to her, how the events of that day had broken her."
Gehrman paused then, having slumped even further into his chair. All the while, he avoided meeting the hunter's eyes; forcing himself to hold back the grief that welled within him.
"You shouldn't have been forced to clean up our mess. So many have suffered because of our foolish pursuit of divinity and I didn't realize it until it was too late. Monsters. The lot of us."
Zoran looked up at the host of the Hunter's Dream, unsure of how to respond.
"I forgive you."
His head suddenly shot upwards, staring at the hunter in complete bewilderment.
"What?" Gehrman questioned, seemingly baffled by his statement.
"Everything that's been said. Everything that's been done. I forgive you." Gehrman did not offer a reply, instead looking on at the younger hunter as he restated his proclamation.
"I understand it all too well. What it's like to have everything you fought for come undone in front of your eyes. What it's like to feel adrift, bogged down by an omni-present hopelessness and despair. What it's like wanting to find a way to escape, despite knowing that you cannot. It breeds resentment towards everything around you, but especially towards yourself. I would've followed that path to its bitter end, were it not for a single act of mercy. One that reminded me that nothing was set in stone, that there may still be a light at the end of this dark tunnel; no matter how faint."
He took a step towards the hunter of old, while trying to keep his own grief in check.
"She adored you, Gehrman. She considered you to be like a father to her, even after everything that happened." Still, the Old Hunter did not seem to react to his words, looking on with his mouth agape.
"I know you are trying to atone. That you wish to spare me from carrying the mark of the hunt for the rest of my days. But if I give in, this Dream will endure and hundreds more will be caught in this never-ending cycle. Besides, you cannot carry the weight of your sins forever."
A breeze blew through the field, picking up several petals as the two hunters, old and new, stared each-other down. Both of them wanted nothing more then to be freed from this horrible existence, but also wishing to ensure no one would ever share in their pain again. There was only one way this could end.
"No, good hunter. I swore that no one else will suffer as a result of my misdeeds. And I do not intend to go back on that pledge." He said as he placed his hands on the grips of his wheelchair and began to rise to his feet, much to Zoran's surprise.
"Not even for her."
He pulled out his shorthand blade and swung it over his shoulder, attaching it to the staff on his back with a speed that was unbecoming of his age. Firmly grasping his scythe with both hands, the First Hunter cast one more solemn look at his latest student, a resigned expression on both of their faces as the workshop continued to burn behind them.
Only one of them would be left standing.
"I am sorry." Gehrman uttered quietly.
"So am I." Zoran said in response.
The First Hunter began to slowly lumber towards him, his missing leg leaving him with a noticeable limp; but Zoran knew better then to underestimate him. Moving at an inhuman speed, Gehrman swung his scythe twice in a horizontal motion, which the younger hunter managed to handily evade; before being forced to sidestep when he swung it a third time. Using the momentum of his movement, Zoran turned his body around, both of Rakuyo's blades coming close to grazing the older hunter before he dashed away. Recovering just as quickly, Gehrman rushed towards him and managed to launch him into the air, before driving him into the ground. Rolling to his feet just as the scythe-wielding hunter launched himself towards him, Zoran unleashed a flurry of strikes upon his mentor, several of which managed to find it's mark.
Going back on the offensive, Gehrman slammed his weapon into the ground before grabbing the blade and swinging it upwards, sheathing the staff on his back. He then slashed at Zoran in quick succession, who managed to deflect each and every one before being forced back when the old hunter fired off a point-black shot from his blunderbass. Rushing back in, he slashed at Gehrman with a doublehanded x, before connecting the two blades and thrusting forward, managing to catch him in the side. Dashing backwards, the older hunter fired off another shot from his firearm, but was caught by surprise when Zoran seemed to fade into smoke and reappear before him, slashing him across the chest before he could react.
The First Hunter looked back at Zoran with rounded eyes as he clutched the wound on his chest, appearing as if he had relieved a distant, yet familiar memory.
"What is this? You…you move just like…" Gehrman struggled to get the words out.
"I learned from the best." Zoran responded in a simple manner.
This seemed to spur something within the old hunter, for he let loose a powerful yell and was suddenly enveloped in a white mist. He then descended upon his opponent with unparalleled aggression, barely giving him a moment to recuperate as their battle raged on. The two hunters moved faster then the eye can see, their blades clashing several times as the mist obscured their movement. As Gehrman felt himself weakening, he created some distance between him and Zoran before launching himself in the air and slashing the air below him, sending out a forceful blast that knocked his opponent back.
The hunter stood to find Gehrman extending his arms to the sky, his gaze set on the moon. Zoran barely managed to get in the clear as a blast erupted behind him, launching him forward and sending him tumbling across the field. He turned to see the First Hunter approaching him at a breakneck speed, stopping his attempted strike with both blades and forcing them into a standstill as he struggled to hold his ground against the vastly more experienced hunter.
"You must accept your death. Be freed from the night." Gehrman softly pleaded with him, no doubt hoping it will break his resolve.
As Gehrman's blade inched ever closer to his neck, Zoran found himself unable to do anything but continue to hold him back. Suddenly, the Old Hunter noticed a glint in his eye and just managed to move his head out of the path of a glowing orb of arcane, forcing him to break their standstill in order to get clear. He didn't get the chance to recover however, as Zoran quickly closed the distance between them and slashed him across the chest with both blades, continuing to slash at him until he drove both blades into his abdomen.
After he had removed the blades, Gehrman fell hard on his back, watching as the younger hunter hovered over him and prepared to strike him down…
"Did you love her?"
Stunned by his sudden question, Zoran froze in place. It felt as if an old wound had been re-opened, for he felt an emptiness claw away deep within. Whatever he was thinking then was interrupted by Gehrman's rasped chuckling.
"From the moment I saw you, I could tell you were a victim of circumstance. Reserved as you were, it was clear that you were a gentle soul, wanting nothing more then to find a sense of belonging and purpose. But you soon became lost, wandering aimlessly as the true meaning of the hunt revealed itself to you. And I wasn't there to guide you. When you disappeared, I…I feared the worst."
Zoran felt his hands begin to shake, finding himself incapable of killing the old man beneath him. Despite his better judgement, he lowered the blades and backed away from him, finding himself overwhelmed with grief. He was broken out of his stupor when he heard the Old Hunter rise to his feet, using his scythe to straighten himself.
"I am truly sorry, Zoran. I know I was not the mentor I should have been. Ever since Maria…passed, I was in a very dark place. When Laurence came to me with that contract, I couldn't bring myself to say no. I could have had anything I wanted, but…all I really wanted was her back." He cast his eye in the direction of the workshop, the hunter immediately realizing what he meant. "But I realized very quickly that that thing out there could never replace her. And I have never truly made peace with the fact she was gone."
Silence once again befell the two, both of them seemingly forgetting the events that had just transpired.
"I gather that she has finally been put to rest?" Gehrman said in a sorrowful overtone.
"Yes." Zoran finally broke his silence, trying to suppress the painful memory.
"And did the two of you…" Gehrman continued his inquiry before trailing off, but the hunter understood exactly what he was going to say. Instead of answering, he cast his head to the side and furrowed his brow; yet his silence seemed to give the old hunter the answer he needed.
"Hmph, well I never" Gehrman smiled softly then, as if he were in the midst of reminiscing.
"You must have cast a hell of a spell on her then. Her upbringing had hardened her at an early age, made it difficult for her to trust anyone. She scarcely had any friends, afraid that they would reject her upon discovering her heritage. But after the Hamlet, it only got worse. She locked herself away, not letting anyone speak to her. And at that point, well…potential suitors were the least of her worries." Gehrman turned away from the hunter and cast his attention to the burning workshop, one hand still gripping his scythe.
"Whatever it is that passed between you must have been strong, considering you would sacrifice so much just to fulfill a promise to her."
"I'm not only doing this for her. I have seen so many succumb to the effects of the hunt, some who deserved it and many who didn't. Nobody deserves to live this life, destined for eternal torment and madness. You would know that better than anyone."
After a brief pause, Gehrman began to speak again, his gaze still fixed on the Workshop.
"Listen, Zoran. I watched everything I built unravel before my very eyes. The Healing Church had descended into anarchy, split between two fanatical factions as Laurence grew more and more obsessed with the blood with each passing day. The Workshop was left in disarray, the scale of the scourge leaving my methods useless as Ludwig struggled to contain it. And through it all, I was left by the wayside; alone with nothing but that soulless replica serving as a constant reminder of my greatest failure."
"This dream exists because of my desire to make something of it all, to ensure that all my efforts had not been in vain. Instead, I violated the very fabric of the craft I had spent so long perfecting and soon, I was all that was left. A relic of a long-forgotten era."
"I…I didn't…" Zoran struggled to find a way to respond to the elderly hunter.
"It's fine." Gehrman interrupted him, his posture straightening significantly. "My time has long since passed." He said as he released his hold on his weapon, allowing it fall to the ground before turning to face the younger hunter.
"You're right. The only way for us to move forward is to make peace with the misdeeds of the past. But understand this, good hunter. This Dream; it can never truly be destroyed. The only way for the Hunt to end is if something, or someone, wills it so."
Zoran took a moment to come to terms with the meaning of Gehrman's words, before drawing in a deep breath and meeting the first hunter's eyes.
"I understand."
"Well then, my keen hunter. It is time I bid you farewell." Gehrman said as he offered him his hand. Instead of taking it, Zoran pulled the old man into a hug, which he loosely returned after a moment of surprise. Pulling away from his apprentice, Gehrman placed a hand on his shoulder as an uncharacteristic, yet genuine smile appeared on his face.
"I'm proud of you. The both of you."
All Zoran could do was nod his understanding, his eyes beginning to swell with tears. Gehrman soon released his hold on the hunter's shoulder, turning away from him and silently kneeling down in the field of flowers, lowering his head expectantly. Zoran then made his way behind him, readying the double edged Rakyuo and hovering it next to his neck before drawing it back. All the while, Gehrman knelt with his eyes shut, awaiting the strike.
"The night…and the dream…were long."
The Rakuyo cut through the air, decapitating the First Hunter in a single motion; his body falling forward and beginning to fade into the ground, signifying an end to his eternal servitude. The flowers around him began to turn a dark red, continuing to spread until the entire field was covered in blood-red petals. Zoran looked on at the breathtaking sight before him, uttering a quiet prayer for the architect of the hunt.
"Be at peace, oh noble moon-scented hunter. Long though the night may be…morning will always come."
A bright light seemed to come from behind him, causing him to slowly turn himself around to view the source. And found himself entranced by what he saw…
A Paleblood moon. And at it's center, the outline of an otherworldly figure, which seemed to be getting closer and closer with every passing moment. Unconsciously, Zoran began to make his way towards the creature, completely captivated despite its grotesque appearance. It soon touched down in the blood-red field, picking him up in his hands and lifting him off the ground, the hunter finding himself incapable of resisting as it brought him closer and closer. The creature then pulled him into an embrace, wrapping its numerous tentacles around him…
But was soon repelled by a sudden burst of force, sending it flying backwards. As the creature recuperated, it somehow seemed threatened by the small figure before it; rearing back it's grotesque head and emitting a noise that resembled a moan more then a cry.
Zoran began to curl his fists as a rage began to build inside him. This thing had used him; turned him into its own instrument of destruction. He had been subjected to endless psychological trauma, been forced to die again and again; all while unknowingly doing its bidding. He slowly raised his head to look at the being, his eyes glistening with anger.
"You…We won't be your puppets any longer!" He snarled at the creature, which had not yet moved from its position.
Zoran charged at the being, which desperately clawed in front of it in a vain attempt to keep him back; strikes which the hunter evaded effortlessly. He drove the longer blade into one of its limbs, causing it to howl in pain before swiping at him yet again; the hunter ducking under it and slashing the creature across its mangled torso. He continued to slash away at the creature for some time, knowing that there was nothing it could do to stop him.
The being then jumped back several meters, attempting to strike the hunter with its numerous tails as it did so before clutching its head as Zoran chased after it. It then released a ray of blinding red light, one that sent a cascade of pain throughout his entire body and stopped him in his tracks. Somehow, he knew that he should be dead, for the creature seemed just as shocked as he was that he still drew breath. It began to back away, seemingly realizing what it was.
Game.
In what seemed like a last-ditch effort, several white orbs began to rise from the ground around it, releasing a massive explosion of blood. But Zoran didn't care. He ran towards the creature with a yell, ignoring the pain that came from every movement. As he approached it, he connected the two blades together and launched himself towards it, severing one of its limbs. The creature howled in pain as it stood to its full height before crashing down onto the ground, barely supporting itself with it's remaining forelimb.
"No. MOOOOORE!"
The Rakuyo pierced the creature's head, entering through the gaping hole at it's centre and exiting on the other end covered in its divine blood. Its body began to convulse as Zoran began to twist the blade, his face contorting in a mixture of pain and rage as he did so. Pulling the weapon back, he watched as the Moon Presence stood on its hind legs, emitting what seemed to be a pained gurgle and beginning to dissolve in a white mist. It's legs eventually gave way and the Great One collapsed to the ground, its body erupting in a burst of blood.
It was over. He had done it. The hunt was over at last.
(* Cue Journey Melody Cover by Taylor Davis.)
A fresh wave of pain shot up Zoran's body, causing him to drop the Rakuyo and collapse to his knees, clutching at his chest as a thin line of blood trailed down his chin. Despite its severity, the hunter could not stop himself from chuckling as he found himself reminiscing about everything that had led to this point.
Seek Paleblood to transcend the hunt.
That is what had started this venture. Even after everything that happened, he still had no idea what it meant. He had sought out Yharnam in the hope he could use its mythical blood to save his family, which ended in disaster. Then he joined the hunt in a hope to avenge his lost sister, which led him to murder hundreds of innocents in cold-blood. Then he took oath against the Church, corrupting his bloodline after being lulled to the Vileblood's side. Then he became lost, adrift in an endless sea of darkness and misery, unable to shake the despair that hovered over him at every turn.
The Tsar had used him. The Church had used him. Annalise had used him. This very Dream had used him. He had been nothing but a mindless puppet, who had been completely unaware of the strings that guided his every action. It had become too much to bear. He wanted to escape. He HAD to escape.
He cast his eye towards his discarded weapon, which lay glistening in the moonlight. He could not count the amount of times he had been felled by its blade, reawakening to try his hand at uncovering the secrets of the Nightmare yet again. Oh, how he had hated her, wanting nothing more then to see her dead and forgotten. Having come so close to achieving this goal and being stopped at the last possible moment had been the straw that broke the camel's back. He felt useless, as if nothing that he did mattered at all. He was a monster. A burden. A failure. And he deserved to die.
And she understood this feeling all to well.
She spared his life, offered him counsel when no one else would. Simply having someone to talk to had been cathartic, letting him feel as if a burden had been lifted off his shoulders. His spirit had not been rekindled by any means, but he came away from their meeting with a thin ray of hope.
As their meetings became more frequent, he slowly began to feel like his old self again. For a time, he even managed to feel genuine happiness. He found himself enjoying her company, trying to lighten her own dampened spirit in any way he could. He had grown very fond of her, treasuring every moment they spent together.
But he should've known it wasn't going to last. He should've seen the warning signs, but he soon felt his feelings towards her deepen. He found himself longing for her presence, becoming more and more hesitant to leave upon the conclusion of their meetings. Their dance had been the moment where he seemingly knew he never wanted to leave her side, for at that moment, she seemed like the most fair and beautiful thing in this world.
And he was afraid. Everyone else he had grown close to was gone, in no small part because of his own actions. It was only a matter of time before the same happened to her. All the while, he found himself wondering if she could ever truly feel the same way. And he eventually got his answer, but not in the way he envisioned. As she pushed him away, he finally found it within himself to show her what she truly meant to him, knowing he would never get the chance to do so again.
What he did not expect is for her to reciprocate. Against all odds, she had grown to love him.
Reaching out for Maria's once beloved weapon, he picked it up and held it up before him. Running his hand along the blade, he smiled ruefully as he observed the intricacies of its design. She was the reason he was still here, the reason he had managed to slay the nightmare and ensure no one would suffer as they had.
She had been by his side all along. His true mentor. His guiding moonlight.
The weapon tumbled from Zoran's hands as he grunted in pain, suddenly finding it all but impossible to breathe. Pain flared through his body and he fell onto his back, grasping his chest as his eyesight started to grow dim. Looking up at the blood-red sky, he recognized that he was yet again at death's door; an experience that he had grown well acquainted with.
And through it all, he weakly smiled; knowing that no matter what happened, he would be reunited with her soon.
The hunter closed his eyes and released a final, relieved breath as his body went still once again. But this time, he did not fade away. For the night and the dream were now over. Not just for him, but for all.
Yet another breeze blew through the fields, dozens of tiny red petals being carried along its path. But soon they numbered in the hundreds, if not thousands; all being carried away beyond the boundaries of the Hunter's Dream.
The dazzling sight came and went, and still, he lay there motionless. But after a few moments of relative peace, his body began to dissolve into a faint, white mist. Soon, Zoran Kushnirenko was gone; carried away by another gentle breeze and leaving nothing behind.
Silence again fell over the Dream, interrupted only when the tall, plain figure wandered into the field in an apparent daze; like she was searching for something. Or someone.
"Good Hunter? Gehrman?" She called out, wandering amongst the flowers. That is, until she felt herself step on something.
Looking down, she moved her boot away to reveal what it was she had stumbled upon. A double-edged blade, which brought about a strange feeling of familiarity. Taking it in her hands, she inspected the blood-stained weapon and as she held it aloft, she could see her reflection staring back at her; though for whatever reason, it didn't seem like her own. After a while, she saw a small sparkle out of the corner of her eye and knelt down to pick it up.
And after staring at it for a couple moments, the weapon slipped from her grip.
In her palms was an emerald green brooch and as she held it in both her hands, a solitary trail trailed down her face. Memories of another life found their way into her mind. A lavish castle. A beast-plagued city. A desolate hamlet. An order born of blood. And a seemingly endless nightmare.
But she also remembered an unlikely encounter. Confessions. Laughter. Dancing. Love. And finally, a name.
Maria.
Yes. That was her name. And now that she was free from the Nightmare's clutches, her spirit-once fractured-had become whole once more. She held the pendant against her chest as she realized what it's presence here signified.
He was gone. The night had ended up claiming him after all. And she was alone yet again.
After staying like that for what felt like an eternity, she turned to return to the Hunter's Workshop; who's flames had mysteriously dissipated. As she solemnly passed through the gates and walked back into the courtyard, she felt something. A presence of sorts. And she now saw from where it emanated.
A small black, slug-like creature lay on the floor in the center of the courtyard, its tentacles shifting as its body writhed in what looked like an attempt to move. It appeared to be an infant, but of what sort, she did not know. Yet, she could sense an undeniable power coming from it, one that was still in its early stages. Approaching the creature, she looked down at it and tried to gauge why it was she felt an instant…connection with it.
"Are you cold?" She asked as she knelt down to pick it up.
Taking the creature in her arms, she noticed that it's squirming seemed to settle down some as she held it in her arms. As the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place, Maria softly smiled as she recognized just what it was she was holding.
"Do not worry. I will look after you…beloved…."
...
Author's Note:
I'd like to once again thank everyone who took the time to read this pet project of mine. I have spent the better part of a year getting this into a state I am truly satisfied with and found myself sick of it at many points. But now that it's finally concluded, I can focus on other projects.
The next thing I'm going to write is a two part series set in the world of Street Fighter, which focuses on a major development in Chun-Li's life between SFV and Third Strike. One thing I can promise is that it'll be a much more "feel-good" story then this one, which is something I feel I need after spending so much time with a story like this. I don't know when it will be finished, but I still have finals to contend with, so probably around mid-to-late April.
I again bid you farewell. It has been a pleasure. May the good blood guide your way.