//------------------------------// // Chapter XV // Story: Papa Gehrman // by SolidArc5542 //------------------------------// Sweat dripped down his forehead. His eyes were fixed upon a certain object that lay on the table in front of him. A needle in one hand, and a piece of cloth in the other. Gehrman licked his lips. “Almost done,” Gehrman sighed. He had been sitting in the same position for one hour now. He was starting to get annoyed. He had no trouble creating the Doll in the Hunter’s Dream, yet this hat proved to be quite the challenge. “Come on you damned thing,” Gehrman cursed as he bit down on a piece of string. “There… we… go. Yes! Praise the good blood!” Gehrman cheered to himself as he held up Applejack’s hat. It looked amazing. Letting out a sigh of relief as he got up from his chair, Gehrman stretched his back. “What’s all this ruckus about—oh, Gehrman.” Gehrman turned around, only to see Rarity stand in the doorway with a sheepish smile planted on her face. “Greetings,” Gehrman replied, walking towards her. “I have finished my work. Could you deliver this to Applejack?” Rarity nodded her head, smiling at him as she used her magic to levitate the hat out of his hand. “Sweetie Belle and her friends are currently in her room,” Rarity said as she walked out of the room. “Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, Gehrman is ready to see you now.” She shouted. Gehrman could hear a door opening, and several hoof steps coming downstairs. Nodding to himself, Gehrman walked out of the room, only to be tackled to the ground by three fillies that were a bit too eager to meet him. “S-sorry,” Sweetie Belle apologized, scratching the back of her head. “We got a bit too excited and didn’t see you walking out of the door. Again, sorry.” “It’s okay,” Gehrman replied, slowly pushing him self up. “How are you doing, Sweetie Belle?” Gehrman asked, looking down at her with a smile. “I assume these two are your friends?” Sweetie Belle nodded her head, looking at her two friends. “This is Apple Bloom,” she said, motioning to a red maned, yellow-coated filly. “And this is Scootaloo,” she said, motioning to a purple maned, orange-coated filly. “Howdy, Mr. Gehrman,” Apple Bloom said, nodding her head at him. “A pleasure meetin’ ya.” “The pleasure is all mine,” Gehrman replied, tipping his hat at her. “This is just an assumption, but are you perhaps related to Applejack?” he asked. Apple Bloom nodded. “She’s mah sister,” she replied, smiling at him. “Thanks fer fixin’ her hat by the way.” “No need to thank me,” Gehrman chuckled. “Now,” he said, looking over the three. “What do you three want to do?” “Well, we were going to try and get our cutie marks for, well, basically anything we haven’t tired yet,” Scootaloo replied, looking up at Gehrman with hopeful eyes. “Since you’re not from around here, we thought that you could help us earn our cutie marks.” Gehrman scratched the back of his head, letting out a nervous laugh. “Well, you see,” he said, tapping his sheathed Burial Blade. “The only thing I’m really good at is wood crafting, smiting, and… hunting.” “We already tried the first and second, but the third...” Sweetie Belle trailed off, looking at her sister. “I don’t think so, young lady,” Rarity said with a stern voice, shaking her head as she glared at her sister. “Hunting is something only Griffons, Minotaurs and other meat-eating creatures do.” “But sis,” Sweetie Belle whined. “No means no, Sweetie Belle. And don’t try to ‘sis’ me, young lady,” Rarity replied. Turning her head to look up at Gehrman, she tugged his leg, making him look down at her. “Just take them to Sugarcube Corner for some sweets, tell Pinkie to send me the bill.” Gehrman nodded, turning around. “Come now, children,” he said, motioning for the Crusaders to follow him. “Let’s get you sweets.” Three sighs of disappointment could be heard. Gehrman ignored them; his ears had grown accustomed to those kinds of sighs. Mostly from hunters who died in the waking world and returned to the Hunter’s Dream. They would often ask for his advice. Hell, one hunter even asked if he could hang onto his Small Resonant Bell for a little while. Gehrman declined, telling the hunter no matter how clever his ideas might be he could never leave the Dream. Gehrman stepped out of the boutique, turning his head as he saw the three disappointed fillies walk after him. Walking down the stairs, Gehrman spoke up. “Okay, so Sugarcube Corner it is then,” he said, smiling at them. “You three don’t know how lucky you are, getting to eat the sweets of Pinkie Pie.” Scootaloo let out a frustrated groan. “I thought you said this guy was cool,” she said, looking at Sweetie Belle with a disappointed expression. “He sounds old. Old ponies—or whatever it is he’s called—are boring.” “He’s not boring,” Sweetie Belle retorted, looking up at Gehrman with hopeful eyes. “You’re not, right?” German shrugged. “I don’t know how ‘boring’ you think I am, but I will have you know that I was once a very famous man,” he said, grinning slightly as he pointed a thumb at his chest. “No beast could stand up to me, no threat was even too great. I trained many hunters. Male and female, young and old, I trained them all.” The three fillies all tilted their heads in curiosity. “Famous? Because of what?” Apple Bloom asked. “Because of yer clothing?” “No, because of my skills as a hunter,” Gehrman replied. “What did you hunt?” Sweetie Belle asked. Gehrman’s body froze after she asked that. Whoops, he probably should have kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t used to people not knowing who he was, or what he had done in his past. “Children,” Gehrman said, holding his hands out in a dismissive way. “Rabbits. I hunted rabbits,” he replied. “Why would you hunt rabbits?” Gasped a shocked Sweetie Belle. “Cows?” “Cows?!” Gasped a shocked Apple Bloom. “Okay, beasts! I hunted beasts! Terrible beasts!” Gehrman blurted out, groaning as he slapped his forehead. “Stupid,” he muttered underneath his breath. Sighing to himself as he turned his back to the three fillies, he gritted his teeth in anger. Even though it was in the past, he still felt bad for the kind hunter that freed him. It wasn’t like he could just forget what happened two days ago. Many hunters had come and pass, but none did the things he did. This hunter actually fought for what he assumed was the right thing. He was never given any proper directions on where to go, nor did he really care. It was like he wasn’t even afraid of dying, because he knew that he would return to his home again. To be greeted by that Doll, to him it must have felt like he was being greeted by his lover. And that’s why he created the Doll. He created it because of the love and affection it would show to any hunter who entered the dream. She always wished for them to find their worth in the waking world, but in secret, she hoped that one of them would actually have the guts to thank her for what she was doing. And that’s what he did. The same hunter thanked her. He thanked her in a way that no one had ever thanked her. He gave her something as a token of appreciation. A small hair ornament. An ornament that was meant for someone else. A student of Gehrman. “Gehrman, are ya okay?” Apple Bloom asked, taking a few cautious steps towards the hunter. “I’m fine, I just… remembered something,” Gehrman replied, hanging his head. “What did ya remember?” Apple Bloom asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice. “A mistake I made. And because of that mistake, someone else faced the consequences I was supposed to face,” Gehrman replied. Looking down at his peg leg, the First Hunter let out a soft chuckle as he remembered the loss of his foot. It was a rookie mistake, yes. But luckily for him, his most prized student was there to help him out. Had she not been there, things would have taken a turn for the worst. He really wondered what had become of her. The only thing he could remember was her smell… and a name. A name so common yet soothing at the same time. Maria. “Gehrman, are you sure you’re okay?” Scootaloo asked as she tugged his leg. “You look like you saw a ghost, or something.” “Children, could we please just go to Sugarcube Corner and get your sweets? This old geezer really doesn’t want to talk right now.” The three fillies exchanged looks of confusion with one another. All three of them nodded their heads and walked passed him, looking back at him with small, yet gentle smiled planted on their faces. Gehrman let out a long sigh, before walking after them. “But still,” Scootaloo said, looking at both of her friends. “Not as cool as you said he’d be.” “Scootaloo!” His knuckles were numb. His veins felt like they were frozen solid. The blood-soaked bandages covering his eyes had also frozen. This cold was almost unbearable. He had no idea how his body was still holding on. He had no idea why his heart hadn’t stopped beating, or why he hadn’t frozen to death by now. But he knew one thing: He was almost there. The Crystal Empire was in sight. He had reached his destination. No matter how harsh the weather, or how big the challenge proved to be, he pressed on. And then, without any further explanation, it stopped. The cold, the snowstorm, all vanished. Gascoigne tilted his head on confusion. It was like he was standing behind a window. He could clearly see the snow. He could clearly see how the gusts of wind blew the snow in different kinds of directions. So why wasn’t he feeling it. Taking a few steps forwards, Gascoigne held his hand out. Cold. He could feel the cold again. Retracting his hand and looking at the snow—which was now melting on his hand, along with the snow that was covering his clothes—Gascoigne let out a snarl. “What kind of tricks are you playing at, Great One?” he asked, looking up at the snowy sky. Letting out a sigh, Gascoigne turned around and began to walk to his destination. Passing a strange looking structure that showed great resemblance to a gate, Gascoigne continued walking. So close, he was so close. But what could he expect to find? What form of civilization would he come across? Could there be beasts? Could there be other hunters, hunters who had gone rogue? He had no idea, but quite frankly, he didn’t care. Completing his mission was what mattered to him. And so, Father Gascoigne, the hunter, tightened the grip around his Hunter’s Axe. What confused the hunter the most was the sudden change of scenery. It went from grey and snowy, to blue and sunny. This had to be the work of a Great One. No other being would have been capable of preforming something like this. Perhaps Sombra had competition, for it is well known that Great One’s rival each other. But there is one they all fear. One who has ascended so much, that he lacks a physical form. Formless Oedon. Could this be his doing? “It’s too bright,” Gascoigne muttered to himself as he saw the Empire getting bigger and bigger. Several small houses, probably owned by the townspeople, caught his attention. He could sneak into one, knock the owners unconscious, and wait until the night arrived. The night was a perfect time for hunting. He could stick to the shadows, enter the castle, retrieve the Crystal Heart, and leave without anyone noticing him. Nodding to himself as he quickened his pace, Gascoigne set his eyes on the first house he saw. And whoever resides in said house, should be prepared. For the hunt was on tonight. And it would spare no one.