"My name is Aurora Gascoigne." Echoed through his mind. The girl whose father he had murdered giving him a polite smile. That she looked the splitting image of Blood, his second youngest sibling, just made his heart sink further.
"Pleased to meet you, little lady." He replied politely. Doing his best to act the very picture of nonchalance while he was dying on the inside. "But we can't afford to waste another second. Let's pick up the pace slightly."
Out from edge of his vision, he caught the glint of something. Something metallic melting back into the shadow. 'I thought I had cleared out the plaza.' Jaune thought to himself.
Keeping his beating heart under control, he led the women away from the plaza. Intently aware of the on his back. Feeling it break of and slink into an alley.
"Is your father a priest of the parish here?" Jaune asked, wanting to get some semblance of a conversation going. The tense silence that hung over them almost crushing. "Heard about a hunter that went by 'Father' Gascoigne through the grapevine. Heard he was supposed to be a good man, a pious one at that."
Met with awkward silence he barked out an awkward laughter. "Don't mind me. I'm not from Yharnam. I'm sure you heard the cunt earlier yap about me being an 'outsider', and it's true. While I try, having picked up some proper etiquette here and there while also having a grumpy old man help me with my manner of speech. I'm still an outsider, so I'm not all too familiar with the do's and don'ts. So if I overstepped, I do apologise."
That managed to draw some reactions from the two women. He didn't need to turn around to know Arianna was rolling her eyes at him. Her entire demeanour screamed 'you don't say.'
"Was… he was a good man." Aurora muttered out. A little laugh coming out more like a choked sob than anything. "Maybe he was a good father once upon a time. But that man is long gone." The venom in her voice hit a bit too close to home. "He died when he raised his fist at mother. When he came home smelling like blood, rot, and decay. When he stopped caring. Maybe he was a good man back when he still smiled… but I can't remember the last time I saw him smile."
'I do.' Jaune thought to himself with a grimace. The sickening smile Gascoigne had worn in their fight instantly coming to mind.
"I take it he raised his fist against you too." He guessed. Auroras silence all the answer he needed. "For what it's worth, my condolences. You should never have had to go through that."
His platitudes were lost on the girl, thinking them empty or condescending.
Deciding to drop the matter entirely, he couldn't help but wonder if he should 'summon' Violet. He didn't want to, but he could understand that seeing her sister would be a good thing. Part of him couldn't help but wonder why he had never heard Violet mention her sister. 'Now that I think of it. I have never heard her mention her father, or her mother for that matter since she cried at their grave.' Jaune mussed to himself.
Passing by an alley, his attention was quickly stolen away by the familiar glint of steel.
"What did you say?" He smiled at Arianna. Not having heard what she asked. Deafened by the sound of his thundering heart. Being the hunted instead of the hunter setting him on edge. However, a small part of him, the twisted part of him, was salivating with excitement. Knowing just how easy it was to flip the two labels. Before the hunter would know it, they would be the hunted.
"Nothing pressing. I was simply wondering if there are anyone else at the chapel." Arianna asked good naturally. Gesturing subtly towards the grim look Aurora wore. Catching her drift, he gave a little smile.
"Well, we are not many." Jaune started. More than willing to change the subject to something else. Not wanting Aurora to drown in dark thoughts any more than Arianna. "The chapel dweller for one is a poor, good-hearted man that simply wish to help people, even if he is unable to walk. You might find his appearance disturbing at first glance, but you will be hard-pressed to find someone as well-meaning as him. Then there is the Old Crone. A spiteful if anything woman. But if you can crack through her shell, you will find that she is more than willing to regale you with stories lost to time."
"Just two?" Arianna asked sceptically.
"Yes, despite my best ability, I have not found many willing to brave the streets." Jaune sighed. Deciding to forgo mentioning Violet. Not risking setting of Aurora now. Petal or not, for what little time he had been observing her, she had done the same. Always looking ready to grab Arianna's hand and bolt.
"That does sound about right. We are a skittish and paranoid bunch." Arianna sighed. Glad to have something else to focus on than the dreary architecture, the scattered corpses and the freely flowing blood. Woman or not, even the most stone hearted of Yharnamites would be unaffected by the carnage that littered the streets.
Aimless conversation rang through the air as they made their way up one of Yharnam's many long and winding staircases. Gherman might have his hide for focusing on something as careless as keeping their spirits up, but he digressed. If the simple act of talking could keep their spirits up, then he was all for it.
Reaching the top of the staircase, the chapel was in plain view. Cutting an imposing figure in the night. For a minute, he simply stood there and breathed. Taking in the magnificence of the chapel. He wasn't the only one, throwing a stray eye to the side, his two charges were also marvelling at it. Letting his shoulders relax, he prepared himself. Knowing what was bound to happen now that they were on the home stretch.
"Thank you for guiding us this far, but we can make the little stretch alone. We have already taken up much of your time." Arianna said politely, doing a little courtesy, something her petal mirrored.
"Think nothing of it." Jaune started. "There is something I wanted to bring up with the dweller. And seeing as I'm already here, I can kill two birds with one stone."
Arianna shot him a sceptical look before shaking her head, choosing to take his word. When they began moving again, she subtly placed herself between him and Aurora.
Not bothering with her misgivings, Jaune prepared himself for the coming fight. Half eager, half terrified to find out what had been stalking them the entire way here. And if they had brough friends.
Setting foot in the courtyard, nothing happened.
The dead tree swayed to an invisible wind. The headstones were silent. And the only sound heard was the tired breathing of Arianna and her petal.
Walking past the tree, the soft echo of crunching gravel was all the warning he got before the stalker sprang into action.
*Cling*
Catching the silver bullet on his blade, he sent it crashing into the cobbled ground. A scream rang through the night, but Jaune paid it no mind. Instead vaulting over a headstone, Crocea Mors screaming through the air. The sound of screaming steel echoing when his sword was caught between the teeth of a saw-cleaver.
"Get Aurora into the chapel. Quicky." Jaune spat out, seeing the mad fervour in the hostile hunters eye's blaze further at the mention of the name. Disengaging with a quick kick, he tsk as the hunter dodged. Spiking frustration hurriedly thrown to the side as the saw cleaver came down, fully intent to punish him for his hasty kick.
Working on pure instinct he grabbed his sheath, bringing it up just in time to stop the saw-teeth from biting into him. Not willing to have his aura secrets spilled when he had spectators.
"Uncle Henryk! What are you doing! Come to your senses!" Aurora shouted. Her words bringing with them half a second of fussy clarity. Emotion appearing faintly in cracked pupils.
"Oh come on." Jaune grumbled under his breath. Mind working overdrive as he suddenly found himself caught between killing or defeating. Not wanting to burry one of the last family Violet had. The problem was that beasts couldn't be defeated in the traditional sense. Beating Henryk into a bloody pulp wouldn't bring clarity back. He had already fallen over the edge, and there was no way back but maybe small hints of what was shining through.
"Arianna, get Aurora into the chapel. Drag her if you must." Jaune ordered, never taking his eyes of Henryk. The man's bloodlust almost palpable in the night air. An indignant scream rang through the night, spurring Henryk deeper into his bloodthirsty madness.
An inhuman growl, an impossible sound for a man to make bubbled out of Henryk as the old hunter launched himself over the headstones. Gunshots echoing through the air as he lashed at him, his every attack becoming more and more feral. The desire to ravenously feast on his blood crushing what remained the once proud hunter called Henryk.
Parrying blow after blow, Jaune fought against his rising bloodlust as he tried finding out a way to at least try to bring him back from the brink. Idiotic, maybe. But he felt as he at least owed it to his apprentice too try.
Twirling around another one of Henryk's blow's he finally worked out a plan. If anything, he would test the only 'active' ability he got from his metamorphosis. And if it failed, he could say to himself that he had at least tried.
'Do Night's Song even work with poem's or chant's as well?' He thought, never having found a moment to properly test it. Between his own studies into rites, schoolwork, hunting, the chalice, teaching and raising Violet, planning team training, chatting with friends, stitching together clues he stumbled upon in Yharnam. Never having given himself time to rest, or even test his abilities.
'No time like the present.' He grimaced, shuddering at the foul breath that attacked him. Looking into Henryk's eyes, he saw nothing. The pupils, iris, and sclarea mixing together like the yolk of cracked egg. Something eager hung in the air, bloodthirsty, hungry for carnage.
Eyes flying open, Jaune remembered the last time he had felt the atmosphere tingle with such hunger. Seconds before Gascoigne had transformed into a werewolf. With that revelation fresh in his mind, he threw caution in the wind and chanted.
"Moonlight weaves a tranquil spell-"
As the words left his lips, he immediately sensed a shift in the air. The smell of moonflowers mixing with the stench of blood to create an intoxicating cocktail. A smell that served to spur Henryk further into his bloodthirsty frensy. The mask that covered his nose and mouth was ripped away as rotted and dirty teeth tried biting into him.
"Casting shadows where stories dwell."
Henryks attacks became more and more feral. A beastly roar escaping from his throat as he threw his pistol at him.
"A symphony of silence, soft and sweat-"
Locking blades with Henryk, Jaune saw nothing of the man he had been in his empty eyes.
"Nights tranquillity, a melody complete."
And night descended over them, stealing all colour with its arrival, leaving most of the courtyard painted grey. Filling the space around them with an air of tranquillity. The calm brought with it a sense of peace. Easing his mind and dampening the bloodlust he kept locked inside.
A silent scream escaped Henryk. The saw cleaver clattering to the ground without a sound, landing beside his pistol. His hands slowly morphing, fingertips and nails turning into wicked claws, jaw shattering as his mouth forced room for rows upon rows of teeth to grow. His body under the heavy leather coat bulged, growing larger as his muscles bulged. Seams giving and tearing open.
With a swift swing of his sword, Henryk was freed from his torturous transformation. His severed head sailing through the air, blood giving life to the grey surrounding them. Mercilessly shattering the silence like glass when his head crashed lifelessly into the ground.
Before he could gather himself, a small body rushed past him. Throwing herself over the twisted half beast-half man that remained of the once proud hunter. Loud, broken wailing rang through the night as Aurora cried over Henryk still warm corpse.
Arianna hurrying over to her side, gently tearing her from the corpse and enveloping her in a warm hug.
Unable to tear his eyes from the scene, Jaune felt a familiar numbness setting in. A numbness he felt when everything became too much, when he wanted to just curl up and die, a numbness he forced himself to push through.
Sheathing his blade, he knelt beside the sobbing girl. Gently laying a hand on her shoulder, his stomach twisted when she violently shrugged it off. Looking up with angry, sobbing eyes.
"My condolences. He… I tried… But he was far too gone…" It was an empty gesture, consoling the niece of the man he just killed. Aurora just wailed harder. Completely ignoring him. 'Maybe it's for the better.' He sighed, standing up and leaving the girl to her grief.
"It seems I was too late." An old, wizened voice called out. Heavy with regret as Eileen stepped out of the shadows, blades in hand.
Fear ran up Jaune's back, not having sensed her approach. If she wanted him dead, he wouldn't have known until he was back in the dream. Quickly he moved between the crow and the women. He had only met her once, and briefly at that. Only having asked for directions. But how she walked seemingly soundlessly set him on edge.
"I'm not here for you lad." Eileen said softly, walking up to his side and throwing a look at Aurora. Or he thought she did. It was hard to make out what she looked at with her plague doctor mask obscuring her face. "Most hunters don't live long. They either die or get lost in their bloodlust. You did Henryk a favour tonight. He rather be remembered as a man, not a beast. Remember him for the man he was, lass. Not for what he became."
Her words were lost on Aurora who had cried herself hoarse. Bloodshot eyes came up to look at them, yet there was no heat in them. Only a pain everyone in Yharnam was familiar with.
"If you could be so kind as to guard them while I go find a spade and coffin, I can bury him in the tomb." Jaune asked, electing a choked sob from Aurora "Please…" she choked out before her tears came bursting forth.
"You go do that lad. I'll see to it that they are kept safe." Eileen promised. And that was that. With a sharp turn he walked up the steps of the chapel. Aurora's wailing dying down to choked sobs.
"What the hell happened out there, lad? We heard screaming, clashing of blades and crying." The old crone demanded the second he set foot inside the chapel. A tired sigh escaped him. Throwing a look over at the crone she quickly shut her mouth, sensing that he wasn't in a mood for her sharp tongue. "I found two other's and decided to guide them here. Unfortunately, one of them had an uncle that was a hunter. He had gone mad with bloodlust and stalked us the entire way, things came to head outside."
Part of him hated to admit it, but he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit vindicated when she clacked her mouth shut. It wasn't the right thing to feel, but as much as he valued her knowledge of Yharnam, she had started to get on his nerves.
"Hunter, if I may." The dweller called out, eager to be of use. "In the revered's room, there should lie a key that will unlock all doors in the chapel. It should unlock the undertaker's quarter's. If you plan to hold a funeral, you will find what you need there."
"Thank you." Jaune said with a heartfelt smile. The chapel dweller lighting up under his praise. Following his advice he sat foot in the old revered's room. The air still stale, but nowhere close to what it had been. In fact most of the dust was gone. Almost as if someone had recently cleaned.
Shaking his head, he walked over to the desk, opening the drawer and letting out a little sigh of relief when he saw the key. Inwardly glad that the revered hadn't gone to great lengths to hide it.
'What now?' He wondered, for as large as the chapel was. It was empty to say the least. Thankfully he knew just who to ask.
"Are you sure this is it?" He called out to the dweller as he stood before a wall. Scrutinising it for a keyhole.
"Yes." The dweller called back, nodding eagerly. "There should be a hidden door leading into the clergy house. It was built into the chapel for safety."
Shrugging, Jaune got back to scrutinising the wall. Eyes stopping when his fingers felt something move. Gently pushing the symbol to the side, he saw a keyhole. Smiling in relief he inserted the key and turned it. Pushing the surprisingly large and light door open. Not at all prepared for the horrendous stench that crashed into him.
"Ugh, it smells like something has died here." He grimaced. Lighting his hand lantern and braving the foul-smelling corridor. Thankfully he quickly stumbled upon a set of doors looking no worse for wear. Grabbing the first handle and oping the door, a bare bedroom greeted him.
Bedroom after bedroom, a prayer room, a lab with large urns full of incense, an empty storage room, an abandoned kitchen. Not finding what he was looking for, he took the staircase down. Stomach sinking when he saw the large open workshop.
It looked unassuming, lumber lied of to the side, buckets of paint stood in the corner, a tool rack filled with all manner of tools for woodwork. It honestly looked like a woodworkers workshop, only the finished coffins of to the side revealing it as the undertakers haunt. But it wasn't that which set him on edge. No that privilege belonged to an unassuming door.
Carefully making his way through the workshop, not wanting to tip over anything, he came before the door the door. Opening it to reveal the revered's hidden lab. Looking just as he had left it after Violet's blood ministration. The only real difference being that the other entrance was sealed by a bookshelf. "Did the revered take the undertaker's duties upon himself? Or is the lab a more recent development?" Jaune mussed, before shaking his head. Pushing the thoughts to the side as he grabbed a shovel and quickly bound a coffin to his back.
Inwardly thankful for Yharnam's penchant for splendour. It would have been impossible to get the large coffin through a narrow space.
When he stepped foot outside, Aurora's sobbing had entirely died down. Her face was stained by a mess of tears and snot. Bloodshot eyes following his every movement as he sat down the coffin. Carefully he lifted Henryk's twisted half human half beast form into a bridal carry before gently laying him down in his final resting place. Ever so subtly palming the rune that fell into his hand.
"Is there anything you want to take? Something to remember him by, maybe?" Jaune asked as he swiftly stitched the head to the body. Finding a use for his first aid kit that he never seemed to use. It was bloody work, something he was more than familiar with. But by the thankful look Aurora gave him, he knew he had made the right choice. She deserved what closure she could get. Especially with what he had to tell her later.
Grimacing, he tried thinking about something else. It wasn't something he looked forward to doing, but she deserved to know.
"No." Aurora sniffled.
Nodding, Jaune laid the lid over the coffin and nailed it down. Rising, he looked over to Eileen. "Would you mind carrying the coffin with me? I would rather not rattle our brother in arms on his way to whatever afterlife he finds himself in."
"Lad. Hunter I might be, but not everyone is as physically gifted as you have shown yourself." Eileen said with a shake of her head. Disappointed but understanding nevertheless, Jaune just sighed. Tying the coffin to his back. Carefully rising to rattle it as little as possible.
"The headstone will have to wait till morning, but for now, let's get him his rightful rest. Follow me to the tomb." Jaune called out. Patiently waiting for Aurora to gather herself enough to follow him. Reaching out a hand, he was understanding when she shied away. Choosing instead to hold hands with her mentor.
Guiding them through the chapel, he absentmindedly noted that the dweller and the old crone performed small religious gestures over their chests when their little funeral processing passed by.
Being the most fit out of them, he headed down first. Giving Aurora some time to come to heads with what had happened. Lying the casket down, he grabbed the shovel and got to work.
"Hunter. Teacher. Ferryman. Now both undertaker and gravedigger. How many responsibilities are you going to shoulder before you eventually break?" Eileen asked, having ghosted to his side with him none the wiser.
"Ferryman?" Jaune asked, shooting her a confused look as he brough the shovel down.
"I know what you did for old Gilbert." Eileen said with callous disregard for how he froze up. "Not many would do what you did. Keeping an aching old man company as he was sent to the great ever after. It was kind of you."
"I did what was right. No one should have to suffer like that or be uncertain about if they would die man or beast." Jaune replied lethargically. Not in the right mind, or even wanting for this conversation. A sentiment Eileen didn't share.
"Be that as it may. You will find that there are few here who shares your sentiment." Eileen said with tired apathy. An apathy all hunters eventually found themselves sharing. "But, if anything. It's good to see some of the old traditions. If only for a night."
"You have lost me. What old traditions?" Jaune asked. Glad to have something else to listen too while moving dirt. He didn't particularly want to be alone with his thoughts right now.
"Ferrymen. It was what the priests and doctors who performed the last rites for the sick and dying. Keeping them company in their last moments." Eileen explained. "An old tradition that has long died out. Like many others it was thrown to the side in the wake of the beast plague."
Humming to himself, Jaune focusing on digging the grave. It wasn't quick work, but he had given himself the responsibility to lay Henryk to rest, and he would follow through to the end.
Finally the grave was dug, and the coffin laid down. Over to the side, Aurora and Arianna finally shoved themselves Aurora looking remarkably more put together than she had earlier. Her eyes still red, but she didn't look like she had cried herself to sleep for days on end anymore.
"Thank you for doing this." Arianna whispered when they joined them. An arm wrapped over Aurora's shoulders as the tears came falling once again. "It might seem inconsequential for you but thank you for giving my petal this closure. With how many that simply disappear into the night, having something to burry have become rare."
"It's not me you should be thanking, lass." Eileen chuckled, gesturing at him with a nod. With a shake of his head he turned to Aurora. Not comfortable being thanked for burying and officiate the funeral of a man he killed. It left a rotten taste in his mouth to say the least.
"Think nothing of it." Jaune smiled, trying to give Aurora the most reassuring smile he could. "Do you have any final words?" He said softly, carefully picking his words. "If not, then I will get too burying him."
"No. Thank you. But if you could leave me after you are done that would be much appreciated." Aurora choked out. Shaking like a candle in the wind.
Following her wishes, he started shovelling dirt. Each shovel of dirt that landed on the coffin another punch in the gut. He honestly didn't know what to do. While he could just callously inform her of her parents demise. He didn't want to see her heart shatter. But that was inevitable. He was after all the bearer of terrible news.
They all watched in silence as the grave ever so slowly was filled. Not a single word spoken the entire time. Leaning his shovel against one of the many headstones, he swallowed a clump. Bending down and slightly moving the little stone pile that signalled where Gascoigne and his wife rested and moved it to the middle of both graves.
"No." Aurora whispered hollowly.
"I'm sorry. I… your sister asked me to bring this music box to your mother." He started, fishing out the worn music box from a pocket and gently handing it to Aurora. Watching in real time as something broke inside the poor girl. "I was too late. What happened to your uncle already consumed your father. There was nothing I could do but burry them together."
"Violet… My sister…Does she know?" Aurora choked out. "Is she dead?"
"She is safe." He reassured. Aurora collapsed into Arianna in relief at his words. Not that it made the tears she cried stop. "I'm sorry for your loss… but… you deserve to know."
Getting no reply from Aurora but more choked sobbing and tears, he stood up. "I'll take my leave. Take care of her, please." He asked Arianna. The woman only nodding at his words. Enveloping Aurora in a hug as she did her best to console her petal. "This tomb is safe. Just stay with her please…"
Arianna gave him a little nod before shooing him away. Not needing to be told twice he joined Eileen by the staircase. Falling into comfortable silence as the two hunters, old and young made their way back to the chapel.
"Can I ask you something?" Jaune asked when they stood in the little courtyard, wanting to get some answers before they parted ways. "I'm looking for clues about Byrgenwerth. Alfred, another hunter, told me it was they that first found the blood-"
"And why do you want that information?" Eileen replied with her usual apathy, cutting him off before he could ask further. "What do you plan to do with it?"
"I… I don't know." Jaune mumbled as they walked out of the chapel. Aimlessly looking up at the moon, he felt lost. "My gut is telling me that I will find answers there. What questions it will answer, I honestly don't know. But it's better than just wandering around aimlessly."
"I can't help you on your little quest. My duties lie elsewhere I'm afraid" Eileen answered curtly. "Maybe the healing church's Vicar will have the answers you seek. Yet I don't think she will be particularly inclined to share any of her church's secrets."
"I was afraid of that. Not that I wasn't expecting it." Jaune tsked, drumming his fingers over his swords handle. Familiar bloodlust gnawing at the back of his mind. Ignoring it he exhaled out mist. "But… I really want to avoid spilling blood on holy ground if I can."
A mad cackle escaped Eileen, her mad laughter disappearing with her into the night. Parting ways with the old hunter, Jaune began making his way back to the grand cathedral. He had seen it off in the distance when he had guided the girls back to the chapel. It was impossible to miss really. Even down in central Yharnam the clocktower loomed over the city.
The way back was mostly deserted, expect for some crows that had waddled out from somewhere and begun gorging themselves on the corpses scattered around. They were quickly dealt with, annoyances as they were. 'Would make good targets for Violet to get her use to blood.' Jaune absentmindedly thought, quickly stopping and writing it in his journal.
Setting foot in the grand plaza, he stepped over a severed head, and made his way towards the large staircase. Frowning when the hunter chief emblem didn't open the second large gate.
"Strange that it would open one gate and not the other." He mumbled. Pressing his face against the bars, trying to see if he could spot another way around. Letting his eyes wander, he froze when he saw a roof of some kind on the other side of the gate. Moving to the right his spirituality churned beside his thoughts. A smile on his lips when he could make out the barest hint of a tower.
Stepping back, he spotted a bridge of some kind connecting with the tower. Looking over the plaza for a way up, he hummed to himself as he made his way towards the left gate. Knowing he had found his way around.
Drawing Crocea Mors he made his way through the gate. Crushing the skull of a crow under his boot. A smile on his face when he saw another archway. He had his way in.
"Over here lads! We got ourselves a beast!" A bloodthirsty hunter screamed, widely gesturing with his torch towards Jaune. Out from the archway a werewolf came charging. Cold cruelty shining in his eyes as he ran around, grabbing the ledge and dragging himself up.
Greeted with the uncaring barrel of Mortem Ignis.
Thunder rang through the ward. A sharp hiss escaping Jaune. The kickback of the silver bullet, what he had named the improved version of his normal quicksilver bullets his transmutation rite produced, coming as a surprise.
"Why didn't Pyrrha experience any kickback when she fired the Auora tipped bullets then?" Jaune mussed to himself, leaping over the fence and planting his boot in the face of another hunter. Ridding the momentum down, blood and brain matter splattering under his boot as the hunters head was crushed between his both and cobbled stone. "Did the bullet have some sort of recoil reduction?"
"Questions for later I suppose." He mused. Dodging out of the blow of an axe, he chose to forgo his more 'refined' style for the more 'barbaric' one. Not wanting to waste anymore time. Picking up the familiar sound of a sword racing trough the air, he brough up his aura. Willing to trade small chunk for tanking the blow and twirling on the spot. Bringing his blade up, he served the hand and head off the one responsible with a smooth swing.
Using some of the space created to sidestep the downwards swing from an axe, blood and shards of bone spluttered out as a sharp blow tore open the chest of another hunter.
In little under a minute, the group of four hunters was down to only a single rifleman that stood frozen. Clarity returning momentarily to clouded eyes. Clarity that brough with it fear. But before he got to act on his newfound clarity, thunder echoed.
Holstering his revolver, Jaune grabbed the ladder and hurriedly climbed up. Not in the mood for searching corpses. Reaching the top of the ladder, Jaune smiled. Following the bridge, he arrived in the tower he had seen earlier. Taking the ladder down, it wasn't long before he was on other side of the gate. Even if he had taken a bit of a detour to get there.
Walking up the steps, two ghostly pale church servants came walking down. Rushing at them, Crocea Mors ran through the one on the right. The servant losing grip of the lantern and sending it bouncing down the stair. Grabbing the servant's shoulder with his free hand, he forcefully angled the still living servant into his companions blow. His neck cracking from the force.
Not wanting to lose momentum, Jaune used the servants body as a human shield while rushing at the still living servant. Crocea Mors impaling him as well. Tearing out his sword out, Jaune ignored the gore and splatter in favour too thrust his sword up. Piercing through the church servants neck.
Pulling out his sword, the corpse crashed down next to it's companion.
Shaking of the blood on Crocea Mors he continued his march up the staircase. Sighing when he heard the telltale sound of a church giant's bell. The easiest way to kill a giant was to go for their legs. For as much power their huge stature gave them, their legs were frail.
Coming up on the ambling giant, Jaune rushed at it. Not giving it as much as a single second to process what was happening before he had buried his sword to the hilt in the giant's knee. With a mighty heave he mustered up all his strength, his blade cleaving through bone and sinew as the giant's knee was completely shattered.
A bloodcurdling scream of pain, anger and fear bellowed out from the giant, who stumbled backwards. It's other knee struggling under all its weight. A quick little cut on the side of the knee was all that was needed for the giant's remaining leg to give out completely. Nearly crushing Jaune under it's weight as it collapsed. Another wail of pain and fear coming out. Abruptly silenced when Jaune brough his sword down like an executioner.
A heavy silence enveloping the ward.
Unceremoniously wiping the blood off his sword with shaking hands. With a will of steel, he forced the smile away. Feeling dirty for the rush that came after easily taking down something over two times his height.
With a shake of his head he continued making his way up the stairs, face caught in an angry grimace. Pulling out his pistol, he rapidly fired two shots before his opponents could get as much as a chance to react. The two church servants dressed in black collapsing. Their weird wooden stakes losing the red glow, clattering harmlessly against the ground. He didn't know what they did, and he rather not find out.
Setting foot atop the staircase, Jaune sheathed his sword. Brushing of the blood covering his attire to the best of his ability, trying to make himself as presentable as possible. Giving up when he made no progress. Thankfully the dark colours helped hiding the blood. An innocent choir of splashing sounds rang out as he walked through the blood puddles.
Pushing open the cathedral doors he was greeted by a set of ominous stairs. Statues of familiar terrifying misshapen creatures with bloated heads filled with a multitude of eyes holding out polearms like they were guarding their king greeted him. Pushing past the mounting panic he felt being reminded of 'It', he quickly pushed past them. Shivering slightly as he felt multiple stone eyes following his every movement.
"Please, Vicar. Please see sense." A pleading masculine voice echoed down the stairs. "Please let us bring you to safety. It's not safe here."
"Seek the old blood. Let us pray, let us wish… to partake in communion. Let us partake in communion… and feast upon the old blood." A distinctly female voice replied in prayer, instantly silencing what the man wanted to say.
Holding his hat before his chest, he softly made his way up the staircase. Patiently standing off to the side as the woman prayed. Dressed in white, she looked so small compared to her two guards. Both dressed in priestly garb like Alfred, only with more finery and golden embroidery scattered around. Even carrying some jewellery here and there.
The hunter to her left, a man black hair the colour of night turned to him with a grimace. Fear washed away by righteous zeal.
"You are not welcome here hunter." He whisper-snarled. Doing his best as to not disturb the woman as she prayed. "Please leave, and you might see the morrow."
"Our thirst for blood satiates us, soothes our fears. Seek the old blood. But beware the frailty of men. Their wills are weak, minds young." She continued to pray. Ignorant on the blatant bloodthirsty look one of her guardians wore. "The foul beasts will dangle nectar, and lure the meek into the depths. Remain wary of the frailty of men. Their wills are weak, minds young. Were in not for fear, death would go unlamented."
When her prayer came to an end. Instead of looking up to the pleading eyes of her staunch protectors, she continued her prayer. "Seek the old blood. Let us pray, let us wish."
Taking a single step forward, the praying Vicar started groaning and convulsing slightly. Panick sat in as her guardians rushed to her side, only to fall. Choked groans escaping them as they too began convulsing.
Then the convulsions became worse. A pained sob escaped the Vicar before her body began to abruptly grow. An explosion of blood followed, coating the altar and religious effigies that covered it red.
Two other bloody explosions followed, drenching the alter with sickly red blood.
The monster that had been the Vicat turned to him. More wolflike than human, a pair of antlers coming up from her skull. She was lager than any beast he had ever seen, her white cloth draped over her. Giving her an aura of hollow holiness. The howls of two cleric beasts mirroring her own as the beasts focused in on him.
As one the two cleric beasts began moving, spreading out in a pincer position while the Vicar hid herself behind them.
Throwing himself to the side, a cleric beast rushed him. It's fur a darker shade, it's beastly maw a cruel grin. Slipping under the swing of its large arm, he followed the true and tested method of attacking it's knee first and foremost. A scream rang out as he drew blood.
A panicked yelp escaped him as the other beast rushed him, it's large arm coming at him like a spear. Barley dodging under it in time, he turned right into a giant punch. Sending him sailing towards the wall. Exploding to the left, he dodged out of the way of another furious swipe. Both cleric beasts coming at him with unmatched furry. His heart falling when he saw the cleric beast he knew he had taken out of commission come charging at him. Only bloodied fur remaining of what should have been a beyond damaged knee.
A molotov flew through the air, halting it's charge as fire licked it's fur. Sidestepping another giant spear hand, Jaune watched both mesmerised and horrified as golden light fell from the heavens. Extinguishing the flames and healing charred flesh.
Hurriedly drawing his revolver, he fired two shots towards the Vicar. The one responsible for healing the other beasts. Roars off pure unadulterated anger echoed inside the grand cathedral. The cleric beasts furry completely unmatched.
Dodging out of the way of another giant fist, he cursed as he threw himself right into the grab of the other beast. Lifting him up and throwing him with all it's might straight into the ground. Not a moment later the other cleric beast was upon him. Jumping, stomping, and bringing it's enlarged first down like a sledgehammer.
His aura held for long, staunchly protecting him from the unending onslaught. But with no way to get up, or roll out of danger, it eventually shattered. And no matter his vitality investments, he wasn't indestructible.
With a start he woke up back in the dream. Heart thundering in his chest. An aching whimper escaped him as he sat up, phantom pain engulfing him. Getting his feet back under him, another shiver hit him.
Jaune wasn't unused to dying. But it wasn't often he got phantom pains as bad as this. Neither was it that it was to something so completely one-sided.
Stumbling, he slowly got his stride under control as he began moving again. Knowing exactly what he needed to do. Ignoring the doll, he rushed up the staircase, hurrying towards the workbench. Tearing of his glove and bringing up the sacrificial knife.
Before he could start drawing the transmutation ritual, wanting to get some extra firepower for the coming hunt. An old cane snapped into his wrist. Sinding his knife clattering to the floor. Shocked and betrayed he turned to Gehrman.
#####
"No." He said solemnly. The betrayal on his protégé's face didn't hurt as bad as looking into his eyes did. His left eye, once blue like the sky, had two cracks in it. Running from the pupil all the way out to the sclera and further. One silver, the other crimson red.
"What… Why!" Jaune shouted. For the first time raising his voice at him. Betrayal turning into burning anger.
"This have gone on long enough." Gehrman spoke softly. The familiar guilt gnawing at him as he took in his protégé. A protégé he had done nothing for. "I will not allow you to hunt as you are now."
Tense silence hung over them, only occasionally broken by Jaune's heavy breathing. His protégé looking one second away from socking him.
"Walk with me." He ordered before wheeling himself towards the door. Giving his protégé a pointed look. An angry sigh escaped Jaune, followed by a sharp tsk. Shaking his head he walked over to him. Still angry, that much was obvious by the way he held himself, but always kind. Taking the handles of his wheelchair and softly wheeling him out.
The wheels slid smoothly over the stairs, gesturing slightly, Jaune brought them to an open graveyard. It felt weird, surreal in a way, coming to his field of execution, not to take a life, but to hopefully save one before he turned into a copy of him. Jaune, as naïve and headstrong he could be with his kindness, didn't deserve such a fate.
The moonflowers danced to an invisible tune; the gravestones stood scattered over the field with a few maypoles decorated with moonflowers to mark once great hunters of renown. It was all he had left to remember them by.
In the middle of the field, cradled by moonlight Violet slept. Jaune let out a startled sound. Half a second away from leaving him stranded in the field.
"Up to the tree here." He called out. Jaune following his wishes, muttering slightly under his breath as he pushed him up the little hill. When he sat comfortably, he turned his wheelchair around. A little wave of his hand conjured a stone bench beside him. Waiting patiently as Jaune went and carried his sleeping apprentice over.
"Sit with me." Gehrman said patiently, ignoring the slight glower his protégé gave him. After all, his protégé might be angry at him, but it was nothing compared to how much he hated himself.
Closing his eyes, he tried making himself comfortable in his chair. Patiently waiting for Jaune to get his temper under control. Subtly giving his protégé a look, a foreign warmth found itself in his chest as he took in the innocent sight of Violet draping herself over Jaune. Using him as both pillow and teddy bear.
"What happened?" He asked. Letting the question hang in the air. Giving his protégé all the time he needed. When he didn't answer after ten minutes, he asked again. "What happened lad. What made you afraid?"
"I don't know." Jaune answered hollowly. "I thought I was over it. I woke up, my friends helped me, I laid it behind me. Then I touched something… and it changed me." Jaune's voice cracked slightly. "I guess I wasn't as over it as I thought."
"There is nothing wrong with being afraid. It's natural. There is nothing wrong with being afraid. Your fear is just another huddle to overcome." Gehrman lectured softly. Memories of when he was young coming to forefront. Fear had always been an old companion, following him ever since he was young. He had experienced many types of fear's through his life, even if a single fear occupied most, if not all of his life.
"You… saw something… or was forced to see something, I presume." Before Jaune could answer, Gehrman nodded to himself. All too familiar with where Jaune was now. "And that fear lit a fire under you. You lost focus, grew reckless. Wanting, needing, to prove to yourself that you were strong. Ending up with too much on your plate. And before you ask, no. I will not teach you quickening."
Silencing his protégé's outcry with a look, he was met with eyes burning with frustration. Thankfully the crack in his eye was gone. "I won't teach you quickening, because you simply don't need it."
A dry chuckle escaped at the look his protégé gave him. Allowing the softest of hints of a smile onto his face. His looked so similar to Ludwig. The same untameable blond hair and sky-blue eyes. Yet, he always felt he resembled Lawrance the most. Even when angry, he was still so kind. Even when suffering he would rather help others through their pain.
"What do you mean?" Jaune asked, bringing him back to the conversation before he lost himself in memories.
"You… really have no understanding of how much you are pushing the boundaries of Blood Rites, have you?" Gehrman asked, the blank look on Jaune's face all the answer he needed. "Of course you haven't, you prodigies are all the same."
"Prodigy? No way. I have made good progress, but I wouldn't call myself a prodigy." Jaune replied, downplaying himself.
"A martial prodigy, you are not. That much is true." Gehrman nodded, conceding the point. "But when it comes to the Arcane, it wouldn't be wrong to call you god-gifted. You created an entire new branch with your Potions. A new way to perform spells through song. And are you not working on finding a way for blood rites to be cast as spells? If you are no prodigy, what are you then?"
He let Jaune squirm under his praise. Something he hadn't given in a long time. Not since his previous apprentice left him. Looking over at Jaune, he couldn't quite help but wonder how he and Maria would have gotten on. They were both kind, cut from the same cloth. But where Maria carried herself with grace and politeness, creating a barrier between her and everyone else. Jaune was kind and approachable. 'What I wouldn't give to see them getting a long, if only for a second.'
Dragging himself back from things that would never happen, he continued his lecture. "It is because of your prodigiousness that I won't teach you quickening. You already have far too much on your plate. I would rather explain the basics to you at a later date and task you with recreating it in any way you see fit." Gehrman said softly. Patiently waiting as his protégé absorbed the new information.
The earlier desperation long since gone from his eyes, replaced with a tentative pride as Jaune sat straighter. A soft, grateful, smile on his lips. His eyes glinting with desire to learn, to spend time with him. Something he was wholly undeserving of.
Patiently waiting, he waited for Jaune to take the word. They sat in a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's company. A luxury Gehrman hadn't shared in decades at least. He wanted to enjoy it, but the ball of emotions in his gut wouldn't leave him alone.
He hadn't asked Jaune to cart him here, only to heap praise at him. Even when it was clear as day that the lad needed it. To know that he had someone in his corner. Old pride burned inside, clashing with all-consuming apathy. But as he turned and took in the peaceful sight of his protégé and his apprentice. The words somehow felt both heavier than ever before, and easier to get out.
"I…" He started, his blood roaring out in defiance at what he was to do, but iron hard determination brough it to heel. "I wanted to apologize… I have failed you."
Finding a spark of courage he thought had long since died out, he pushed on. Ignoring Jaune's gobsmacked expression. "In my apathy, I have hurt you. I wrote you off as dead, never giving you the chance to learn. I have accepted you into the workshop, yet I haven't taught you anything. It's time I stepped up. It's time I did my duty."
There were so much more he wanted to say, that the boy beside him deserved to hear. Yet words failed him as a single drop of silver trailed down his protégé's face. Jaune quickly wiped it away, grimacing slightly.
The fear in his protégé's eyes stopped him. There were so many questions swirling around in his mind. Burning questions that demanded answers now. But that fear, the pain and terror in Jaune's eyes made him hold his tongue.
Looking back at the empty field, he took in the dancing flowers. Breathing heavily before leaning back, deciding to throw his protégé a proper curveball to get him out of his funk. He would let his protégé have his secrets, the same he had for his dear Maria. He had to stoop himself from looking over to the entrance of the fields of execution, knowing the doll stood there. Disgust rising at what he had created. What he had done.
Truly, sometimes he couldn't help but think his imprisonment in the nightmare was just.
"Our first lesson will be tomorrow night." Gehrman started, needing to stop the familiar downwards spiral. "I'm not able to teach you much in the way of combat." He lied like the lying liar he was. "But I want to help point you along. You died again, didn't you? And it didn't look much like an even fight either."
Jaune grimaced, giving him a hesitant nod.
"Then we will start from there. I will help with pointing out flaws and bounce ideas with you, helping you refine a strategy or point you in another direction so you can come back later. There is no shame retreating from a battle. Just because the dream allows you to keep coming back, it's a privilege, not a right. Don't abuse it just because you can come back. There is a cost to everything." He lectured, feeling an eager little smile forming. Inwardly nodding to himself at the restrained bloodlust that shone in Jaune's eyes.
Glad that he had it under control and wasn't a slave to his passions.
"But tonight, I want you to sleep." He said softly. Closing his eyes and leaning back in his wheelchair. "While your body sleeps while you are in the dream. Your spirit also needs to rest."
Peeking at Jaune through heavy lids, he saw his protégé, while confused, move to follow his advice. Laying down on the stone bench, one arm behind his head like a pillow, the other protectively over Violet who lied sprawled over him.
Closing his eyes, sleep came quickly.
And for the first time in a long time, he found himself free from nightmares.
####
Standing in the shadow of the tree, the doll smiled as Gehrman and the kind hunter fell asleep. Joining the hope of tomorrow in the land of dreams.
Through her connection with the dream, she could feel how It preened as Its children and grandchildren were spending time together.
She could feel It's unmatched curiosity as well.
Would the eldest finally break his chains? Would the spark of courage be enough for him to rebel? Breaking out of his home, and setting out for one last hunt?
Would it be the middle child that would see It's wishes come true? Would his kindling of hope be enough?
Or would it be the hope of tomorrow? Carrying her father's torch and wishes.
It couldn't wait.
####
Note: Even if Jaune didn't 'continue' Eileen's questline, Henryk is already insane. Having lost his grasp on sanity when Gascoigne died. Then seeing his partner's murder, with his eldest, well you can figure the rest out yourself.
Note: From a gameplay viewpoint, it's good to have a single boss. But there is no way in hell the 'supposed' leader of a faith is alone when something as tumulus as the hunt is happening outside.
Ps: I want to make it abundantly clear that the first time Jaune killed a cleric beast, he was more lucky and ingenious than skilled. All factors taken out when the arena is the chapel and not the bridge. The fight is also supposed to be the first proper roadblock he can't just bulldoze through. Gascoigne and the cleric beast he managed to do in one try. But they were fodder in the great scheme of things.