FOREWORD

I recently bought and started playing Final Fantasy XVI. While I am in its earliest stages, I was inspired to write a oneshot set in its earliest stages. There's not many crossovers yet, and while I may yet write more, this will hopefully leave it's mark. Usually, I don't write Bloodborne oneshots outside of my Halloween oneshots, but I felt this idea needed to be written out now.

Anyway, time for the disclaimers. Firstly, there will be annotations, and I don't want to hear any bellyaching.

Secondly, there will be spoilers.

Finally, this is a fan-written work. Bloodborne, Final Fantasy XVI, and the characters and scenarios are property of their respective owners. Please, support the official release. Otherwise, Micolash will run experiments on you…

EVER THE SHIELD, EVER THE HUNTER

The man wasn't allowed to have a proper name. He'd lost that right ever since he had been branded as a Bearer. However, he had gained a new one, Tiamat, after a feared dragon of yore, which he admittedly enjoyed more, as much as he enjoyed his work. Objectively, he and his men were not pleasant people, so it was with some irony and pride that their group called themselves the Bastards, elite Bearer soldiers who did dirty work so that the Holy Empire of Sanbreque, in theory, kept their hands clean.

Hence why they were running across a ruined battlefield. A shithole that had become the site of the latest clash between the Iron Kingdom and the Dhalmekian Republic. The Eikons on either side had made a mess of the battlefield, killing one of Tiamat's men. There were only three left now.

Their mission was to kill the Dominant of the Eikon Shiva, who had been enslaved by those fundamentalist savages in the Iron Kingdom. Tiamat pitied the poor bitch, but orders were orders, and any Dominant within the Iron Kingdom would be treated as a slave just as much as any Bearer would be outside the Iron Kingdom. Killing her would be a mercy. And given that her clash with Titan had killed Aevis, well, it was going to be personally satisfying too.

Thankfully, he and his surviving men had stumbled across the Dominant being escorted by a small group of Iron Kingdom survivors, her hands tied behind her backs, looking half-dead. Shame, really. She was a comely-looking lass by the look of it. There were also a small gaggle of children in rags, possibly to be used as leverage against her…well, unless the Iron Kingdom were into raping kids. He wouldn't put it past some of those priests.

However, before Tiamat could give the order, he saw a figure appear in front of the marching group. Tall, clad in a long leather coat, and with a tricorn hat of the same material. In one hand, he clasped a rather large sword that seemed to have a crystalline blade. In the other, he had some strange weapon.

The Iron Kingdom barbarians clearly didn't take kindly to his presence, for they yelled at him, first in their harsh tongue, and then in the common language. "Who are you?" demanded their commander. "Why have you come here?"

"Giving my name would be meaningless. After all, the answer to your second question is that I have come for your lives."

The low rasp of a voice sounded vaguely familiar to Tiamat. Any hope of realising why, however, was dashed when the mysterious man lunged, faster than any man he had witnessed fighting. The first half a dozen Iron Kingdom savages died before they realised the man had moved, their heads sailing through the air on geysers of blood. The strange device in the man's head barked loudly, and another fighter's helmeted head was reduced to the consistency of a chunky stew. The device disappeared, to be replaced by something that, if he didn't know any better, resembled a pale slug. Tentacles then burst out of a rift in space, lashing at the barbarians and either impaling them, or sending them flying, their bodies shattered.

Their attempts to use the children as hostages failed. The slug was exchanged for what looked like some sort of staff that he aimed at their heads, destroying them with loud reports. Soon, the ground below was covered in blood and offal.

And yet, Tiamat noted, he did not aim at the Dominant, nor did he attack the children. He had to admit, he was impressed by the sheer speed and precision of the brutal attack. Soon, the Iron Kingdom savages were dead. And their slayer turned to the Dominant.

"…Are you hurt?" he asked, his tone saying volumes. Where did Tiamat know that voice from?

The Dominant was peering at him warily, suspiciously, and understandably so. "…What do you think?"

At this, the mystery man chuckled. "…I think that it's been a while for both of us, Jill Warwick."

The man knew her? The Dominant clearly was sceptical. And so was Tiamat. Still, the Dominant was distracted, and so was her erstwhile saviour. A surprise attack would ensure the Dominant's demise, and her would-be saviour would be distracted long enough for them to make an escape…theoretically. True, they were expendable soldiers, but the Bastards were still skilled enough to survive many a battlefield.

"Kill the Dominant," Tiamat said, as quietly as he could, to avoid the mystery man hearing them. "Do it quickly, and get ready to withdraw."

"Don't you mean flee like the cravens you are?"

Tiamat's eyes widened. That had come from the mystery man, who had turned to look at them. Biast then decided to fire off a blast of magic, Tiamat cursing the impulsive fool, until he realised the spell had hit the ground in front of the man, sending up a pall of dust and smoke. Biast then fired a spell at the Dominant…only for it to be swatted back at him by the same crystalline sword, glowing with an eerie green light.

The spell hit Biast and detonated, reducing him to charcoal. The blast hurled Tiamat and Fafnir, the only other survivor, from their rocky perch, and into the clearing where the slaughter had taken place. "…You're getting sloppy, Tiamat," the mystery man said, striding towards them. The Dominant stayed behind him, as did the children. "I have grown stronger, yes, but I thought you would have decided discretion to be the better part of what little valour you have."

"Who the hell are you?!" Tiamat demanded.

"…I'll admit, the years have changed me, but did you forget your own handiwork?" The man removed his hat, and tugged down a mask, revealing a face that looked familiar. In fact, it was only when he imagined it with a brand given to Bearers that Tiamat remembered.

It had belonged to a promising recruit, some brat who came from Rosaria, and had become a Bearer late in life. Defiant and angry, but a good fighter. In fact, Tiamat suspected he knew who the brat really was, but had simply known him by the codename given to him. However, this promising recruit disappeared, presumed dead, in a clash between spells he had gotten caught up in, one that should have disintegrated him.

"Wyvern?!" he snarled.

"My name is Clive Rosfeld," the man said calmly, too calmly. "But to you…I am merely a Hunter, come for their chosen prey."

"…Clive?" the Dominant hissed in shock.

"We'll speak later, Jill. The children…keep them safe."

"Damn you, traitor!" Tiamat snarled, struggling to his feet. "You would betray the Holy Empire?!"

"As I recall, I was branded against my will. I owe no loyalty to an emperor I pledged no allegiance to, and my service died with my original body," the traitor said coldly. "You either leave Jill with her life, along with those of the children…or you die."

"Not if you die first," Tiamat snarled. "Fafnir!"

Fafnir fired off a spell, and Tiamat charged, gambling that the distraction would work this time.

It didn't.

Tentacles lashed out from the blast, grabbing him and Fafnir. As they began to constrict, Tiamat snarled, "…Traitor…you're a dead man…"

"I've died many times. The experience is highly overrated. Be thankful you die but once, even if it's a death well-deserved."

The pressure mounted. Tiamat felt something burst within him, and rise through his throat, gouting from his mouth. It was agony, sheer agony, and yet, he was conscious until the very end, when he felt his shattered ribcage mulch his lungs and heart…

The twitching lumps of meat Clive let drop to the arid ground were barely recognisable as human any more, thanks to the Augur of Ebrietas. As he finished, he turned to Jill, who had turned the children away from the horror, even if she had looked on, given the horrified look gracing her features. Gods, she had grown into a fine beauty, as fine as his caretaker.

Eventually, Jill asked, "…What happened to you, Clive?"

"…It's a long story, Jill, and we have little time to tarry," Clive said. "I will explain once we are in a place of safety." He then hurried over to a nearby lantern, having them touch it. "Go, now, please."

After a moment's hesitation, Jill and the children touched it, vanishing in a ripple of light. And not a moment too soon. More Iron Kingdom warriors appeared, swarming down from the surrounding cliffs like an upturned ant's nest. Clive sighed. "…A Hunter must Hunt? Eileen, if only you were here."

But then, a lightning bolt lanced down in their midst, dazzling Clive, and sending the brutes flying. More bolts rained down upon them, but not on Clive. A big dust cloud was kicked up as the Iron Kingdom forces were wiped out by lightning. And then, Clive sensed a presence…no, two presences within the cloud.

A lupine shape padded out of the cloud. Clive was instantly on-edge, his time in Yharnam having him wary of such things, and the wolf began growling…until it smelled him, and stopped. A curious and wary whine emanated from it, and Clive began to suspect he knew what the wolf was…or rather, who.

Another shape walked out of the cloud of dust, a tall man clad in leather, his features bearded, his manner mildly cocky, and yet calm and collected. His voice was deep and resonant. "…So, you're the infamous Hunter, huh? The one I've been hearing rumours about these past months? The ones helping free Bearers? A man after my own heart, if that's true."

"…I am," Clive said, only for the wolf to nudge his hand with its snout. With an instinct, he realised who it was. "…Torgal?"

The wolf barked happily, and the man smiled. "You knew his name."

"As I believe I know yours…Cidolfas Telamon. I heard your name from the lips of the Bearers I have helped. Though I wonder…what are your intentions for Jill? Or were you here for me?"

Cidolfas held up his hands. "I didn't know you were here, Hunter…or should I say Clive Rosfeld? I was here to rescue Jill. I am looking to help not only Bearers, but Dominants too. As long as it's her choice to stay with you, I won't interfere with that…though where did you send her off to?"

"A dream. If you wish, I'll bring you and Torgal there too. Don't worry, you won't be harmed."

"…I'll have to bring someone else, but…I just want to confirm it with Jill that she's with you of her own will. And as long as you don't bring harm to me."

"If I wished to, you'd be hardpressed to stop me. But I won't. I take contracts very seriously…"

Jill Warwick thought it one of the most beautiful places she had seen since she had lived in the Duchy of Rosaria. True, there was something uncanny about the garden, with the white flowers, the gravestones, and the simple house on the hill, to say nothing of the malformed infant-like things that emerged from the ground. And yet, it was so peaceful and serene.

She was bemused when she and the children used as leverage against her by those bastards of the Iron Kingdom were greeted by a most extraordinary woman, a pale, tall woman with silvery white hair and a strange accent. She called herself a Doll, and her hands looked like a doll's, all jointed and wooden. And yet, she seemed so human, and yet not.

The Doll referred to Clive as the 'Good Hunter', and Jill, despite having only been twelve when Rosaria fell and she was separated from the boy she viewed more as a brother than any possible crush, felt a pang of jealousy all the same. But she tamped down on it. She hadn't been expecting rescue, not from Clive or from anyone else. But he came to help her and these children regardless, despite the brutality with which he dispatched those keeping them prisoner.

Some minutes later, he came through, but with more surprises. She recognised Torgal, the wolf licking her face excitedly. The deep-voiced man who swaggered in introduced himself as Cidolfas Telamon, the Dominant of Ramuh and the man who had been rescuing Bearers. The giant man with a somewhat childish demeanour was Goetz.

And then, Clive told them his tale. One that was unbelievable in many ways, and yet, Jill knew he wouldn't lie to her. How his own mother sent him into slavery after betraying the Duke of Rosaria after the fall of Phoenix Gate. How he had been conscripted into the Bastards, Bearers who did the dirty work of the Holy Empire.

Then, during one of his missions, he had been caught in a clash between two spells. It had seemingly disintegrated him, and yet, he found himself waking in a clinic in another world, in a city known as Yharnam. He was given a blood transfusion to help save his life, for he still sustained grievous injuries from the clashing spells…and this transfusion bound him to the very realm they were residing in, the Hunter's Dream…and bound him to the nightmare Yharnam had become.

His tales were horrifying ones, of madness, sickness and blood flooding the streets of Yharnam, of beasts and monsters born of the so-called Healing Blood. Of the manipulations of the Healing Church and its factions, as well as the Great Ones, the bizarre gods of that world. And death…so much death, and too often of the undeserving.

But Clive was not alone in his Hunt. The Doll was the creation of the prior caretaker of the Hunter's Dream, Gehrman, who mentored Clive. There was Eileen the Crow, Alfred, and the survivors within the Chapel of Oedon. Yet too many others succumbed to madness or worse.

Eventually, Clive prevailed over the mad schemes and eldritch monsters. But he was forced to slay Gehrman, refusing to leave the man trapped in the dream that had become his gaol. And he more gladly slew his gaoler, the Moon Presence, a Great One of awesome power. As it fought, it taunted him with the reality of what happened at Phoenix Gate: that the mysterious Eikon that slew Phoenix (and thus his younger brother Joshua) was actually Clive himself, acting in a berserker state, unable to control the second Eikon of Fire.

It nearly broke him. Instead, he broke the Moon Presence. Specifically, its spine.

With its death, Clive ascended, becoming a Great One in his turn, bound to the Hunter's Dream. No, rather, he became the Hunter's Dream. He needed time to recover, to grow, to mature into his new existence. Even now, the form standing before Jill was an avatar made in Clive's likeness prior to his apotheosis.

But there was more news on the way. Clive had sensed that Joshua had survived the Phoenix Gate clash between the Eikons. It was more of an instinct than anything definite, but he wanted to find Joshua to make up for what he did. Jill hoped beyond hope that Clive was right, for both their sakes.

After the tale was told, Cidolfas crossed his arms. "A rum tale, and no mistake. If I weren't standing in this Hunter's Dream right now, I wouldn't have believed a damned word of it. As it is, something about this place sets off my instincts. Not that it's a threat, just…weird and detached. Pretty peaceful, though."

The Doll, who had ushered the children away during the tale to play elsewhere, said, "The Hunter's Dream is a refuge for the Hunters, to find succour from the Hunt. But the Good Hunter, Clive, he stopped the Hunt for now. He sought a new purpose."

"To free Bearers, wherever I find them," Clive said. "I made an effort to treat them well even prior to my own enslavement, but now, having experienced such bondage…I will not stand for it. That I ran into Jill…I witnessed the clash between Shiva and Titan. I thought about how the Iron Kingdom treats Dominants and Bearers, and so, I sought to liberate the Dominant of Shiva. I never imagined it would be you, Jill, yet I am glad it was so, if only because we met again."

Jill offered him a wan smile. "I never imagined the Hunter I heard rumours of was you, Clive, but I too am glad to meet you again. Still, you think Joshua is alive?" She hoped that was the case. The thought of Clive killing his brother, even in a berserker state, was not a pleasant one.

"…I hope so. And I hope he is willing to accept my apologies if he is," Clive said.

Cidolfas nodded. "Well…far be it from me to tell a god what to do, but…we could use someone like you at the Hideaway. Hell, we could do with Jill's help too, though it's entirely up to the pair of you. I'd say that even if you weren't a Great One, Clive."

Clive inclined his head. "I'll consider your offer, if it helps me find Joshua…and I'll let Jill decide whether she wishes to join you on your own. But regardless, I ask that you find the children a good home."

"They were being used against me, to force me to do their bidding," Jill said bitterly. "They deserve better."

"They will get better in the Hideaway, believe me," Cidolfas said, before looking around. "Still, it's nice, for a dream. I've had too many nightmares for one lifetime."

"The nightmare of Yharnam is over for now," Clive said. "But a nightmare hangs over Valisthea. Regardless of whether I join you, Cidolfas…a Hunter must hunt…"

THE END?

STORY ANNOTATIONS:

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No numbered annotations this time.