Stealth had always been something every hunter was good at. Able to transform their trick weapons behind any beasts, without them even noticing. Visceral attacks were one of the prime examples of a hunter’s skill of hunting beasts. The riposte would be performed by first firing a Quicksilver bullet at the target; The target—when trying to perform an attack—would stagger, then the hunter would proceed to stick his hand inside the body of his target, and rip part of the beasthood out of said target.
Gascoigne was never good at performing visceral attacks. He always dragged his axe across the concrete, as a way to frighten any Yharnamite that dared to come close to him, and as a warning for any beast within the vicinity. His Hunter’s Axe had already slayed many beasts and Yharnamites. It still reeked of blood. Any sane person would find it disgusting, but for Gascoigne it was a sign that he was doing his job correctly.
When he had first entered the Healing Church Hunters, he had no idea what to expect. He had heard of the beastly scourge, but he had never seen it up close. His first hunt went rather well, his second even better, and when his third hunt began, he had already slain more beasts than any of his compatriots who were with him on the nightly hunt.
The Saw Cleaver, the Hunter’s Axe, the Threaded Cane; these three trick weapons were common for new hunter recruits. Out of these three he chose the Hunter’s Axe. His fellow hunter compatriots recommended the Threaded Cane, for you could keep a safe distance, but still be able to slice through any beasts. But he remained adamant in his choice of the Hunter’s Axe. Not only because of its strength and weight, but also because of the tremendous damage it did to the tissue, the veins, and the bones of the beasts. Saw Cleavers might have been effective for drawing blood of the beasts, but the axe made sure they would never get up.
But it did occur—very often actually—that his axe would be damaged. If it were, he would occasionally borrow a trick weapon from the Church’s Workshop. But he would always treasure his trusty Hunter’s Axe, even if that meant collecting Blood Stone shards over and over again.
Gascoigne let out a sigh of frustration. It was too bright for him to sneak into one of those houses without anyone noticing him. He would have to come up with some kind of plan. Sighing to himself as he now stood a few meters away from the Crystal Empire, the hunter looked down at his axe.
‘Stick to the shadows; Show no mercy. Do what must be done to assure victory.’ He thought to himself, remembering what his old friend Henryk had told him all those years ago. “Damn it. Damn it all to hell.” He muttered underneath his breath as he started to sprint towards a nearby house. Reaching the house and sticking to the outside walls, Gascoigne slowly walked towards a nearby window.
“What?” Gascoigne said to himself, confusion filling his voice. There, inside the house were two multicolored horses. One was pink, the other yellow. Their manes were both white, and their eyes were a bit too big for Gascoigne’s liking. “What fool would have two equines walk through his house?” he asked himself, staring at the two horses in confusion.
Well, at least he wouldn’t have to knock the owners unconscious, seeing as there are animals walking through their house. Perhaps the house was abandoned?
Balling his hand to a fist as he retracted his arm, Gascoigne punched through the window, shattering the glass and sending it flying all over the house’s interior. Gascoigne proceeded to climb through the window. Landing on his feet and dusting some shards of glass off his attire, the hunter looked down at the two horses.
“What are you looking at?” Gascoigne asked, sarcasm clearly present in his voice.
“Burglar!” One of the horses exclaimed, pointing its hoof at Gascoigne. “Honey, do something,” the horse said, turning to the other horse.
“I-I,” the other horse stuttered, looking up at Gascoigne in fear. “Take whatever you want, just don’t hurt us!” he begged.
Underneath the bandages, covering his eyes, Gascoigne’s eyes widened. Horses that could talk? Was this the work of the Old Blood? Or some kind of sick, twisted experiment? Stumbling backwards a bit, Gascoigne held his head. “I must be going insane,” he whispered to himself. Shaking his head furiously as he looked down at the two horses, Gascoigne pointed a finger at the one who had a feminine voice. “Where are your owners?” he asked, wanting to know who was responsible for such witchcraft.
“O-owners?” the horse repeated in confusion, taking a quick glance at her—what Gascoigne assumed to be—her mate. “I-I, we don’t know what you’re talking about. But please, just take whatever you want!”
Letting out a sigh of annoyance, Gascoigne raised his axe.
“W-wait!” the male horse begged. “Please don’t do what I think you’re about to do. I don’t know who or what you are, or what you have against my wife and me, but please, don’t do whatever you’re about to do.”
“A heart,” was the reply of the hunter as he brought his axe down. The axe struck the floor, inches always from the horses’ muzzle. The horse gulped as he stumbled backwards.
“I think I’m,” he said, holding a hoof to his muzzle. “Yeah, I defiantly am.”
His wife could only watch as he ran out of their living room, and into the kitchen. Looking up at the frightening creature in front of her, she gulped as she felt sweat dripping down her forehead.
“I’m looking for a heart,” Gascoigne said. “I need to know where I can find it, so I may return it to its original owner.”
“W-what heart are you talking about?” the horse asked.
“A Crystal Heart,” Gascoigne replied.
“A what?” the horse replied in confusion.
Gascoigne let out a sigh as he bent over to meet the horse on eye level. Grabbing the horse by her mane and giving it a strong pull, he whispered. “I need to know where I can find the Crystal Heart. You better tell me where I can find it, or else I will make sure that my stinking breath will be the last thing you will ever smell.”
The horse gulped. “W-well, y-you could try the C-Crystal palace. Princess Cadence and Prince Shining Armor recently arrived here. I don’t know why, but I think it has something to do with that snowstorm that was threatening the Crystal Empire.” She said, looking up at him with slight hope. “Is that enough?”
Gascoigne released his grip on her mane. “I will leave when the sun sets, which should be a good two hour from now. Talk to anyone about this, and I will come back to pay you another visit.”
“Wait, you’re staying?!”
Both hunter and pony turned their heads to see the mare’s husband standing in the doorway of their kitchen. “Oh, I think I’m—.” the stallion said, running back into the kitchen.
Gascoigne shook his head as he sat down on the floor, legs crossed. Placing his axe on his lap, he looked down at his right hand. On his ring finger was a ring. A ring that was stained with blood, the blood of beasts and man.
‘Viola,’ Gascoigne thought, not turning his gaze away from the ring. ‘My love, soon we shall be reunited. And when the time comes… I will never leave you, ever again.’
The sun was starting to set, and the moon had begun to rise. Princess Cadence let out a sigh as she stood on the balcony of her palace. The magical shield that she had casted over the Crystal Empire to protect it against king Sombra was draining all of her power. Her husband was already asleep, but not her. She couldn’t go to sleep, no matter how much she wanted to. She wondered if anypony had ever felt this… tired.
Looking up at the starlit sky, she thought back to her wedding. What would have happened, had Twilight not helped her from escaping from her prison? Would Equestria be under Changeling control? She shook the thought out of her head. She was happy. Happy that she had a loving husband. Happy that everything turned out the way it did. But still… why did she feel so strange? Was it because she hadn’t slept for a whole day? Or was it something else?
“Curse you, Sombra,” Cadence said, glaring at the sky. “Curse you to Tartarus and back.”
Shaking her head, Cadence walked back into the throne room of the Crystal Palace. Her guards were off duty for the night. “Faust, I’m tired,” she said to herself. Walking towards her throne, she removed her crown and placed it on a table that stood beside her throne. Sitting down on her throne and staring at humongous doors that lead to the palace’s barracks, kitchen, and exit, she let out another sigh.
“I want to go to bed,” she whined, rubbing her eyes.
Due to her whining, the Princess of Love did not notice the doors that led to her throne opening.
“Mphf!”
Gascoigne looked down at the two ponies—which he had discovered by asking them some questions about their origins—which he had tied up, using a conveniently placed rope that he found in the living room. Why did these two keep a rope in their living room? Gascoigne had no idea. But again, he could care less. He had also stuffed their mouths with a piece of cloths that he had ripped from his Church attire.
“I will be back shortly,” Gascoigne announced as he walked toward the smashed window. “Stay put and try not to make a mess of things. I’d hate to gut my two closest friends.” He said as he climbed out of the window.
Landing on the hardened concrete, the hunter dusted himself off. Looking up at the night sky, he silently prayed for a swift hunt. He was not sure as to how or why ponies were the only inhabitants of the Crystal Empire—at least, that’s what he had been told by the two ponies who he had tied up in their own living room. If ponies were indeed this Empire’s only inhabitants, then taking the finding the Crystal Heart would be a piece of cake.
Running out of the alleyway he was standing in, Gascoigne began to sprint towards the towering palace, which could be seen in the distance. For some reason, running through the city and passing several dim lit houses made him feel alive again. What was this sensation? What was this strange feeling, running through his body? Could it be… determination?
It had to be. He might have put all of his thoughts into finding the Crystal Heart, but deep in his heart he knew why he was doing this. He didn’t care if he had to kill to return to his wife. If he had to kill every inhabitant of the Crystal Empire to return to her, then so be it. A hunter is a hunter, no matter what kind of situation said hunter finds him or herself in.
Gascoigne’s gaze was fixed upon the palace. He was already panting heavily, but that did not stop him from increasing his speed. Finally, after ten more minutes, he had reached the castle. Looking straight at one of its four triangular looking columns, Gascoigne noticed a door. Still panting from his sprint, he walked towards the door. Reaching for the doorknob, he twisted it. Locked.
“Umbasa,” Gascoigne whispered, raising his right leg and kicking the door open. Quickly turning around and aiming his Blunderbuss at random places, the hunter scanned the area, making sure no one had heard him. Proceeding to enter the—now—opened door, Gascoigne let out a sigh when he spotted the many stairs that led up to the palace.
“Damn,” he whispered as he took a deep breath.
Running upstairs with incredible speed, Gascoigne tightened the grip around his axe. The Crystal Heart had to be in there. It was probably guarded by dozens of guards, perhaps more. Finally reaching the end of the staircase, Gascoigne grabbed hold of the door’s doorknob.
“Idiots,” he said to himself as he opened the door and walked through it. “Locking the lower door, but leaving this one unlocked.”
Gascoigne walked through what appeared to be a hallway. It was big, bigger than he had first anticipated. But something was off about this hallway. There were no guards, not a single one.
“Well,” Gascoigne said, looking off into the far distance. “Looks like I won’t be killing any ponies tonight.” He chuckled at the thought, a malicious smile crossing his face as he started to walk down the hallway. Resting his axe on his shoulder and keeping his Blunderbuss in hos other hand, Gascoigne walked down the hallway. He observed every aspect of the castle. It was dark, but he could see clearly. His eyes had adjusted quickly to the dark due to the many hunts he partook in.
Then, out of nowhere, a sharp pain ran through his head. It felt like his head was on fire. Dropping his axe and Blunderbuss, Gascoigne put his hands on his head and grunted in discomfort. Why was he experiencing such pain? What was going on?
“Must… continue,” Gascoigne grunted, ignoring the immense agony in his head. Picking up his weapons, the hunter continued to walk forward. He eventually reached a set of giant doors. Taking a step back, Gascoigne put his hands against the doors and pushed as hard as he could. The doors began to open, slowly. The pain inside his head wasn’t really helping, but he tried to suppress it. Finally, after putting almost all of his strength in it, the doors opened.
Walking through the doors and shaking his head, Gascoigne looked around the room he was standing in. he continued to walk forward, until a feminine voice stopped him in his tracks.
“I want to go to bed.”
Gascoigne looked at the figure that sat a few feet away from him. It was a pink pony. She sat on what appeared to be a throne of some sorts. She looked like she hadn’t slept for days. Gascoigne, putting his mind to work for once, decided to call out to the pony.
“Hello,” he said, getting her attention.
The pony’s head shot up. “Who’s there?” she asked, her eyes glancing over the throne room. “How did you get inside the castle?”
“There were no guards,” Gascoigne replied as he walked out of the shadows, revealing himself to the pony. “You must be Princess Cadence. Good, you and I need to have a talk.”