> Papa Gehrman
>  by SolidArc5542
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter I
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Celestia walked through the gardens of Canterlot Castle. Her eyes felt heavy and her breathing was slow and soft. It had been a rough couple of days for her. Her niece’s wedding. An invasion on her kingdom. Being defeated by the leader of said invasion. Yep, a rough couple of days indeed. But peace had finally returned to Canterlot. Ponies were still recovering from the invasion, but they all managed to continue their daily businesses.

But still. What if it hadn’t turned out the way it did? What if something went wrong? What if the invasion had been a success? She couldn’t bear the thought of what might have happened to her subjects. But luckily for her; Twilight and her friends were there to save the day.. again. 

She wondered what might had become of Equestria, had Twilight never attended her school for gifted unicorns. Would Nightmare Moon be Equestria’s new ruler? Would Chrysalis be the ‘queen of Equestria’? She thought of the various outcomes. If something were to happen to her student, or the other Elements of Harmony, what would she do? There wouldn’t be another hero to save Equestria. To keep evil at bay and strive for all that is good. There would be no hero to save her. 

Of course she could fight for herself. She was still an Alicorn, and a very powerful one too. But even she had her flaws. So did her sister. So did her niece. What was she going to do?

“Oh Faust,” Celestia said as she looked up at the sky, the moon and stars shining brightly in the dark. “Are we really that desperate?”

Sighing to herself, Celestia decided it was time for bed. But before she did, she looked up at the sky one more time, to see a shooting star fly by. Closing her eyes, she made a wish. One simple wish. That Equestria would be safe for all eternity.





Gehrman, the First Hunter sat in his wheelchair, his hands intertwined with one another. His eyes open and his breath shallow, he watched as the hunter he had met months ago walked towards him. He remembered it like it was just yesterday, when he first met the hunter. 

The hunter was young and stubborn. He barely listened to any of the helpful advice Gehrman gave him. He remembered how the hunter kept waking up in Central Yharnam, constantly being shot at by Yharnamites and being attacked by beasts. But no matter how many times he would return to the Hunter’s Dream, the hunter pressed on. 

Within a day or two, the hunter had successfully defeated the Cleric Beast, obtaining his first badge. The Saw Hunter Badge. Gehrman was proud of the hunter. He had not expected him to slay such a powerful beast in such short time. Most hunters had trouble; even fighting the smallest of beasts. But not this hunter. This hunter was different.

Within two weeks the hunter had obtained more hunter badges and slayed even greater beasts. Gehrman swore the hunter tried talking to him, when he was peacefully sleeping in his wheelchair, behind the old workshop in his own little garden. The hunter barely spoke to him after that.

The Doll seemed to have grown fond of the hunter. Especially when he gave her that small hair ornament. He would come back, talk to the Doll, strengthen himself, and leave. This left Gehrman thinking. Why was it that this hunter was so persistent? Many hunters before him went into a state of depression, not leaving the dream for weeks, even months. But not this hunter. This hunter pressed on. He fought, he conquered , and he grew stronger. 

And then it happened. He had slain a nightmare. The hunter had succeeded into doing the impossible. Gehrman knew the night was near its end now. So he burned The Old Workshop, and awaited the hunter at the foot of the great tree.

“Old man.”

Gehrman’s head shot up as he looked at the figure that stood in front of him. “Good hunter, you’ve done well. The night is near its end. Now, I will show you mercy. You will die, forget the dream, and awaken under the morning sun. You will be freed… from this terrible hunter’s dream.”

“…No...”

Gehrman chuckled as he slowly pushed himself up. “Dear oh dear, what was it? The hunt, the blood, or the horrible dream?” Finally standing at his full height since a very long time, Gehrman looked at the hunter. “Oh, it doesn’t matter,” he said as he reached for his side, grabbing hold of the hilt of his famous trick weapon. “It always comes down to the hunter’s helper to clean up after these sorts of messes.” Unsheathing his Burial Blade, Gehrman combined it to form his trick weapon. A scythe that had taken many lives, of beasts.. and hunters. 

“Tonight, Gehrman joins the hunt.”

Gehrman’s eyes widened when he saw the hunter bow for him. Gehrman took this opportunity to charge at the hunter, making a horizontal slash at the young hunter. The hunter quickly rolled to aside, and successfully cut Gehrman’s side. Gehrman quickly jumped backwards, only to charge at the hunter again, constantly slashing away at him with a combination of horizontal and vertical slices. 

The hunter felt the sharp blade cut through his Crow Feather attire. Quickly jumping backwards, the hunter injected two blood vials into his right thigh and charged at Gehrman. Gehrman did a vertical slice, only for the hunter to roll underneath it, and do a upwards slash at him. Gehrman stumbled backwards as The Hunter’s Axe cut through his abdomen. Gehrman grunted. There were no blood vials for him, those day were in the past.

The hunter formed his trick weapon into its extended form, successfully hitting Gehrman with a combination attack that consisted of a horizontal slash to the left, and a downwards verticals slash. Quickly reaching for his back, the hunter threw an oils urn at Gehrman. 

Gehrman gritted his teeth as he felt some of the oil entering his open wounds. What was he playing at? Throwing an oil urn at him wasn’t a very smart idea. Sure it stung like hell, but it wouldn’t kill him. Gehrman dashed forwards with incredible speed. Spinning his scythe two times, he stroke the hunter with a horizontal slash, sending him flying. The hunter landed on the flower field, a sickening crack could be heard, echoing through the field.

The hunter quickly got up and injected a blood vial into his right thigh, and reached for his back again. 

Gehrman took this opportunity to dash at the hunter again. A big mistake. 

The hunter threw a Molotov cocktail at him, successfully hitting the First Hunter. Gehrman let out a scream of agony as the flames burned his body. the oil urn made things even worse. The oil that had gone into his wounds was now burning as well. 

‘Clever, good hunter. Very clever.’ Gehrman thought as he turned his back to the hunter, and faced the radiant moon. 'Please,' he whispered. 'Grant me strength.' Gehrman screamed as he felt a sudden rush of energy course through his veins. Turning around to face the hunter, Gehrman grabbed hold of the hilt of his burial blade, as the extended part of his scythe clicked into each other. Attaching the wooden shaft to his back, Gehrman charged at the hunter. Swinging his Burial Blade at the hunter, occasionally getting a good hit on him, Gehrman was beginning to feel tired. He had grown old. His vison wasn’t at its top. His physique hadn’t changed much over time, but he felt exhausted.

‘Have to find strength,’ Gehrman thought as he turned his head to look up at the moon. Nodding to himself, he turned towards the room and started channeling his energy.

The hunter could only watch in curiosity and awe as Gehrman, the First Hunter was being covered by some sort of aura. Taking this opportunity, the hunter started slashing away at Gehrman. This slashing continued for two more seconds, until a powerful shock wave sent the hunter flying backwards. The hunter felt an immense pressure on his chest. Getting up and coughing up blood, which now stained the inside of his hunter’s mask, he injected three blood vials into his right thigh. 

“Raagh!”

The hunter had no time to react when Gehrman came (literally) flying towards him. His abdomen was met with a vertical slice of his Burial Blade and the hunter was yet again sent flying. Gehrman transformed his trick weapon back into its scythe form and leaped at the hunter, scythe behind his back.

A loud gunshot could be heard. Gehrman had no idea what happened, until he felt a gloved hand enter his side. Gehrman looked down at his side as the hunter ripped out a part of his tissue and blood. Gehrman quickly got onto his feet and did two horizontal slashes at the hunter, but to no avail. The hunter rolled out of the way and made an upwards slash at him. Gehrman had little time to jump aside as the axe made impact with his chest. He could feel his ribs crack, his veins losing blood, his vision fading. 

Could he finally be freed? Freed from the night. Freed from this terrible nightmare. Would he finally be able to wake up?

“Goodbye, old friend.”

Gehrman looked at the hunter and felt a sharp pain on the left side of his chest. Looking down at his chest, he saw that it was impaled by a blade. A holy blade to be precise. Looking at the hunter, Gehrman cracked a small, but sincere smile. The hunter retracted the blade from The First Hunter’s chest, looking up at Gehrman with… Regret? Was that regret in his eyes?

Gehrman released his grip over his Burial Blade, falling to his knees. “The night… and the dream… were long.”

The hunter watched as Gehrman fell to the ground and vanished into thin air. Sighing to himself, the hunter turned his head and looked at the moon. Whatever it was that was descending from the sky, it must have been what Gehrman had told him about once. A Great One. 

The Great one pulled the hunter closer to itself, wrapping its tentacle like hair around its new child, but something was off. The Moon Presence could feel the part of its first child’s cord in the hunter, the same cord that was used by its first surrogate child to call to it, but it could also feel the presence of Oedon, Kos, and Ebrietas in this hunter. This human had gained so much knowledge from his time in Yharnam that it had transcended much of his humanity. The amount of influence its brethren had bestowed on this human was too much for the Moon Presence to overpower, and the energy it had put into trying to control the hunter was becoming too great; the energy was going to release. The Moon Presence was clearly enraged at the hunter for not grating him his strength. It roared and looked down at the hunter, ready to strike him down.

“Foul beast,” the hunter said as tightened his grip around the hilt of his Holy Blade. “Be gone!”

And so, with a holy blade, four blood vials, and a promise he made to an old hunter, the hunter charged at the Moon Presence. The night, and the dream were indeed long. But they would finally come to an end. Foul beast, be gone indeed.

> Chapter II
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle hummed a happy tone as she walked through her library, levitating several books while she was passing the many bookshelves. “Let’s see, ah, there it is," she said as she levitated another book of its shelf. "Spike." She called out to her assistant.

Spike peeked his head out of a pile of books. “What is it, Twilight?” He asked.

“Could you place these books on that empty shelve over there?” Twilight asked, pointing her hoof at the shelf. 

“Sure thing,” Spike replied as he held out his claws. The books were placed in his claws. Struggling to keep his balance, the young dragon walked towards the empty shelve. 

“I haven’t made a friendship report yet,” Twilight mumbled as she walked further into the library. "What do I do?" She asked herself. She was about to grab a few more books, until a familiar burp stopped her in her tracks. 

“It’s a letter!” Spike said.

“I’ll be there in a minute!” Twilight called back.

“But it says here that it’s very important!”

A blinding purple light appeared in front of the young dragon. “Here you go Twilight.” He said, holding his claw out. 

Twilight smiled at her assistant and started reading the letter. Her expression turning into one of curiosity with every sentence she read. “Spike,” she said as she scrolled the letter back up. “We’re going to Canterlot.”

“Again?” Spike whined. 

"Alright," Twilight sighed as she patted her assistant’s head. "You can stay here and keep an eye on the library; while I go to Canterlot."

"Alright!" Spike beamed with much enthusiasm. "Now I get to read those new Daring Doo comics. Aw man, this is going to be great!"

“But remember Spike, a watchful eye.” Twilight reminded her assistant. 

“Yeah, yeah. Spike replied, waving his claw at her in a dismissive manner. “Just pack your stuff and be on your way, okay?”

Twilight nodded, quickly trotting out of the ‘Conjuration area’ of the library and running upstairs. Opening the door to her room, she levitated he saddlebag towards her and opened it. “Let’s see,” she said, tapping her chin. “I’ll need four—no at least six scrolls. Two quills and four bottles of ink. A book to read in the train. Or maybe I should—no, I think that will be enough.”

Twilight packed the things she needed, triple checking if she had everything. Quickly trotting out of her room, Twilight haphazardly made her way downstairs. Spike had already begun reading one of the many Daring Doo’s. “Bye Spike!” Twilight said as she exited the library.

“See ya!” Spike called after her.

‘Alright, to Canterlot!’ Twilight thought as she started trotting towards Ponyville train station. 

In about ten minutes, the young lavender unicorn had finally reached the train station. As if it knew she was coming, the train stopped right in front of her. Passengers left the train. While others—including Twilight herself—boarded the train. Sitting down on a nearby bench, Twilight placed her saddlebags on a seat in front of her. Levitating the book she had brought with her, she opened it and started reading.

“Chapter one: Of dragons and gems.”





“Sister, when does young Twilight Sparkle arrive?”

Princess Celestia rose from her throne, looking down at her sister she smiled. “Knowing Twilight, she’ll be here shortly.” she said as she rubbed her forehead. 

“What’s wrong, sister?” Luna asked, giving her sister a concerned look. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“It’s nothing,” Celestia smiled. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all.”

“And why is that?” Luna asked, raising an eyebrow at her sister. 

Celestia bit her bottom lip, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. “Would you believe me when I told you I’ve been drinking too much tea before bed?”

Luna shook her head. “The truth, please.”

“Nightmares.”

"Nightmares?" Luna repeated. Her sister had been having nightmares? About what? If she had, surely her own sister would have noticed. How could she not have noticed her own sister having nightmares? She was the Princess of The Night for Faust’s sake. Biting her bottom lip also, Luna spoke up. “What were they about?”

“Equestria.”

Luna let out a sigh of relief.

“And its destruction.”

Luna’s eyes widened. Equestria’s destruction? What was she talking about?

“I’ve been having the same nightmares for four nights straight. Canterlot burning, out subjects screaming, and in the far distance, a cackling voice that echoes through the sky.” Celestia’s eyes, always so calm and innocent, were now filled with fear and sadness. “I feel that this might be the beginning of something greater.”

“The same nightmare,” Luna muttered, closing her eyes in thought. “Visions, perhaps?”

“Maybe,” Celestia replied. “But that does not explain--.”

“Your highnesses?”

Both sisters turned their heads to a Pegasi guard that had entered the throne room. 

“Normally, ponies knock before they enter.” Luna said, glaring at the guard.

The guard rubbed his helmet, laughing nervously. “Forgive me, but Twilight Sparkle has arrived, your highnesses.” Opening the door and letting the mare in question enter, Twilight thanked the guard and looked at her mentor.

“I will take my leave.” The guard bowed and left the throne room.

“My dear Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia greeted her student, smiling at her. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” Twilight replied. “So what’s this ‘urgent situation’ you wanted to see me about? She asked curiously.

“Yes, about that,” Celestia chuckled. “Gotcha”

“Gotcha?” Twilight repeated in confusion.

“Yes,” Celestia replied, walking over to her student and draping a wing around her. “I just wanted to spent some time with my number one student.” ‘Even if it is just for a few minutes’ Celestia thought, remembering she had to attend day court very soon.

Twilight blushed a bit when her mentor said that, she wasn’t that talented.. right? “So I brought all of this,” she said, looking at her saddlebags. “For nothing.”

“No,” Celestia replied, using her magic to lift the saddlebags of Twilight. In the blink of an eye her saddlebags were gone. “Let’s just.. talk.”

“Talk?” Twilight repeated in confusion. “Talk about what?”

“About your life in Ponyville.” Celestia replied.

“But I already sent you all those friendship reports. What would--.”

“I want to talk about your life in Ponyville.” Celestia as she motioned Twilight to follow her.

Both unicorn and Alicorn walked out of the throne room, leaving Princess Luna to herself.

“Nightmares,” Luna said as she looked at her sister’s throne. “How strange."





Twilight could not feel more uncomfortable than she already was feeling. Spending time with her mentor was a privilege.. but the questions she was asking her were beginning to get a bit personal. ‘Are you seeing anypony?’ ‘Have you dyed your mane?’ All these questions, they were beginning to get weird.

“So how is Spike doing?” Celestia asked as she and Twilight walked through the Canterlot gardens. Several ponies who were in the gardens too, bowed before their ruler. Celestia smiled at her subjects, happy that they were enjoying the gardens as well.

“Spike is doing good. He’s actually been doing a very good job lately, Twilight said as she let out a small sigh. “But I think the whole invasion really did a number on him. He didn’t sleep much after we returned to Ponyville.”

Celestia closed her eyes. “I can understand that. He’s just a baby dragon, after all.”

“Yes,” Twilight smiled as she looked up at her mentor. “But nonetheless, I still love him with all my heart. And so does everypony else.”

“I can understand that too,” Celestia giggled. “How can you not like his cute, innocent nature. But how are the others. Your friends, how are they doing?” Celestia asked as she and Twilight passed one of the many statues in the garden. 

“Princess, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Princess Luna,” Twilight said as she looked up at her mentor. “ Are you really having nightmares about.. you know.” She trailed off.

Celestia closed her eyes and sighed. “Indeed I have, my faithful student,” Looking up at the sky, Celestia let out a small chuckle. “But they are just nightmares. Nothing to worry about.”

Twilight couldn’t help but notice a small twinkle in her mentor’s eyes. Was she… lying to her? No, Princess Celestia never lies. Shaking the thought out of her head, Twilight spoke up. “How is Princess Luna doing?” 

“She’s doing rather well,” Celestia replied, looking down at her student. “Ever since Nightmare Night she’s been opening up more and more.”

“That’s good to hear” Twilight smiled. sighing to herself, Twilight rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “Princess, not to be rude but.. are we just going to keep walking and talking?”

Celestia chuckled. “No, no. I have to attend day court in a few minutes. So I’ll leave you to yourself. If that’s alright with you, I mean.”

“Don’t worry Princess, I’ll just ‘explore’ Canterlot a little bit. See what I can find. Perhaps some new books to add to my collection.” Twilight replied.

Celestia nodded in agreement as her horn lit up. Smiling at her student, she vanished into thin air.

“Okay,” Twilight said to herself, “To Canterlot!”





A dark, yet clear gravel path could be seen in the distance. A man stood on the path deciding whether or not he should walk it. Deciding he should, the man walked down the graveled path. As the man walked down the path, he looked to his side. Gravestones. Ones he recognized, and ones he did not had suddenly appeared out of thin air.

The path grew darker and darker. Trees started to appear behind him, as if he was walking deeper into a forest. The man let out a sigh. For how long did he have to walk down this path of despair?

Walking further down the graveled path, the man stopped, looking down at a gravestone that he had not noticed before. Falling to his knees, the man read the name on the gravestone.

“Willem… was this the right choice?

It's becoming harder and harder to remember your name. Even my own is starting to fade away. It's been so long, I wonder if you're even still alive in the real world. If not, then you were the lucky one among us.

So many hunters. Either free, turned to beasts, or prematurely renouncing their vows. Their faces are all blurring together, and I can't make out any distinct aspects of them. Top hats, hunter's caps, the occasional metal helmet, it doesn't matter. Every single face is the same. Angry. Betrayed. Tired.

They always refuse. It's so rare that they allow me to free them. And so, I am forced to free them. My bones creak, my back protests, my hands writhe with pain, and I can barely move my mouth to speak. And then the moon aids me, and I gain my old self. My old burial blade, my gun, my coat, my cap. I used to thank the moon for returning me to my prime. Now I wish it would just leave me that crippled old man, too weak to stand, easy prey for the hunter that refuses. They don't deserve to stay in this hunter's dream, but I can't stand this anymore. I want to be free. I want to wake up from this cruel Hunter's Dream, return to reality, so that I might finally die. I can't. Willem. I can't.

I remember, a long time ago, when you and I used to sit on the balcony at Byrgenwerth, how we spoke of what would become of us in our old age. You planned to stay in Byrgenwerth. I wanted to be remembered for excavations in the old labyrinth. We laughed at how Laurence would probably still be chasing girls in Yharnam. 

Laurence is gone. Turned beastly, and worshiped against his will at that Grand Cathedral. Turning in his grave, if anyone had had the decency to actually give him a grave. You're still at Byrgenwerth for all I know, still on that balcony, regretting letting that excursion commence, eternally regretting how we brought about the beasts.”

And me, just a toy for the moon, forced to hold this dream. Trapped in this sickeningly beautiful void. I did it to save other hunters from the moon, to keep them alive. As every day goes by, I think of how I would turn my own gun on myself the next time a hunter refuses, blow out my mind and this cursed hunter's dream. Finally be free.

One day, a hunter will win. They will end me, either with a bullet to the head, or a saw through my chest. I've imagined it so many times, hoped so many times. My moon brings me back to what I was, but some have come close. Sawed through a vital artery, blinded me, cut off an arm, crushed my bones. And I've always won. No hunter can destroy that which made them. No student has defeated the master yet.

Master. As if. I was the one that let my family be maimed by the beasts. I was the one that aided Laurence in bringing back the old blood. I bowed to the moon, and locked the door of my own prison. The moon makes me young again, fast, efficient, accurate, powerful. All to keep itself alive.

That man has been dead for a long time now. Gehrman the hunter died the day he let himself be trapped in this dream. All that's left is an old man. An old man who pretends to mentor the new hunters. An old man who's forgotten who that doll was supposed to look like. An old man who stares at the moon, every night of the hunt, wondering what could have happened had things been different. Had things gone better.

Willem…. I find it most ironic. I took up the hunt, created an ending for the beasts. I used to think that I was the hunter, and they were the prey.

When, all along, I was the very first beast there ever was. 

Willem, I am free. But please, do not forget who I was. Do not forget my name. Do not forget… our friendship.”

Gehrman lowered his head, tears falling down his cheeks. He had been freed, but his vow he could not keep. The hunter who had ended his suffering, was probably regretting his decision. Sitting in--what once was—his wheelchair, under the ever watchful eye of the moon.

Then, out of nowhere, there was a light. And Gehrman felt at peace.

> Chapter III
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The city of Canterlot is known for its many shops. Its crowded streets. And its sunny weather. Ponies from all over Equestria visited the place. Whether it was for holiday, or visiting relatives. The city was the center of Equestria. But in such a big city; it is easy to get lost. Luckily for her, Twilight knew the city from the back of her head. 

“Let’s see,” Twilight said to herself, passing several different kinds of shops. “The Paper and Quill bookshop should be somewhere around here.” She trailed of. Turning her head sideways, she let out a sigh of relief when she spotted the bookshop. “I must have overlooked it, or something” she said as she walked towards the bookshop.

Reaching the bookshop and entering it, Twilight inhaled the scent she had come to love over the course of years. The smell of books sure was something that others would find disgusting. But not her. No, she adored the smell. 

“Good to be back,” Twilight said to herself, accidentally startling the stallion behind the counter.

“Well I’ll be,” the cashier said, rubbing his eyes. “If it isn’t Twilight Sparkle. How are you doing? I haven’t seen you since… for how long have you been absent, now?”

“About six months now, I think,” Twilight replied, smiling at the cashier. “How are you doing, Mr. Quill?”

Muttering something underneath his breath, Mr. Quill quickly returned the smile. “I’m good. New books come in every month.” Looking down at the counter, Mr. Quill let out a sigh of despair. “Who am I kidding? Ms. Sparkle, I’m going bankrupt. Bills have been stacking up and I haven’t been able to sell any new books.”

Giving him a compassionate look, Twilight made her way over to him. “’Mr. Quill,” she said, standing on her hind legs and putting her front legs on the cashier’s desk. “If it means anything to you, I’m looking for some new books to add to my collection.” Twilight smiled at him.

The brown coated, white maned unicorn stallion nodded his head in appreciation. “Of course it does. You are, and will always be, my number one customer,” he said. Straightening himself, he walked away from the counter and motioned for Twilight to follow him further into the shop.

“Any specific interests?” Mr. Quill asked, glancing over at Twilight.

Twilight held out her tongue in thought. “I’m looking for the sequel to: Dragons of the ages,” she replied, looking at Mr. Quill with hope filled eyes. “You wouldn’t; by any chance have that one, would you?”

Chuckling to himself, Mr. Quill nodded. “As a matter of fact, I do,” he replied. Walking over towards a nearby bookshelf, Mr. Quill levitated the book in question for the bookshelf and presented it to Twilight. “Here it be. Tales of the Dragons.”

Twilight quickly grabbed hold of the book and held it close to her chest, like a mother would to her child. “Thank you so much, Mr. Quill!” she thanked him. “This means the world to me. I’ve just started to read the first one, and when I found out there was a sequel, I just had to have It.” she said, turning to face him directly.


“I’m glad you like it,” Mr. Quill replied. Looking down and the wooden floor of his shop, Mr. Quill let out a long sigh. “I think you might be my last customer. Heck, I might even have to close the shop; next week.”

“Has business really been going so downhill, lately?” Twilight asked.

“Yes,” Mr. Quill replied. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong here, Ms. Sparkle. A few months ago business was going as it always was: Good. But now it’s like ponies aren’t interested in books anymore.”

Twilight bit her lower lip. Closing her eyes, she began thinking for a solution to this problem. But what could she do? Bills had to be paid. And if business really wasn’t going too well, what was she supposed to do about it?

“There is one thing I could try.”

Mr. Quill looked up from the floor. “And what could that be?” he asked, his eyes filled with sadness as he looked up at Twilight.

“I could try and talk with Princess Celestia about the situation, see what she has to say about it,” Twilight replied, looking at Mr. Quill with a compassionate expression. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Ms. Sparkle,” Mr. Quill began, only to be cut off by Twilight.

“No. When I was still a small filly, my mother and father used to take me to this bookstore; every month. You were always kind to me. You always gave us discounts when we didn’t bring enough bits to pay you,” Twilight said, looking at Mr. Quill with a serious, yet kind look on her face. “I think it’s about time I did something in return.”

“The Princess surely has other, more important things to do, than to care about me and my little shop,” Mr. Quill rubbed the back of his head nervously. “I mean, I’m not that desperate, but--.”

“Mr. Quill, I’ll be back in a few hours, with the Princess,” Twilight said as she turned around and trotted out of the shop, accidentally dropping the book on her way out.

Mr. Quill walked towards the dropped book and picked it up. Blowing the dust off its cover, he put the book on the counter. “I swear, that mare is one of a kind,” he said, smiling to himself.  “But she’s still the same little mare that walked into my shop; all those years ago.”

Walking behind the counter again, Mr. Quill stared at the entrance of his shop. Normally the door would have opened and closed about four times now. Whether it be an earth pony, pegasi, or unicorn. They would all look around the shop, and buy a book or two. But where did it go wrong? Mr. Quill repeated the same routine every day. Open the shop, greet and help his customers, have a lunch break, help his customers again, and close the shop when it was getting late.

Were books really that outdated? Had today’s youth finally found another way to entertain themselves? Mr. Quill simply did not know. 

Mr. Quill opened the second lower cabinet of his counter. Using his magic to levitate an old, outdated picture out of the cabinet. On the picture there were three ponies. One unicorn with a book and quill for a Cutiemark. One Pegasi who had a trumpet for a Cutiemark. And a young pegasi colt who still had to earn his Cutiemark. 

“I hope the two of you are having a blast in Manehattan,” Mr. Quill said to himself, smiling at the picture that was taken so many years ago. His son, whom he had taught everything he needed to know about how to manage the shop, once his father would retire. His wife, who had helped him through the good and the bad times in life. He couldn’t believe this was happening. There was no way the shop could be saved. Princess Celestia wouldn’t care about his shop. There were so many shops in Canterlot, and his was just another one of them. 

Placing the picture back in the cabinet, Mr. Quill straightened himself and cleared his throat. “Come on, Quill. You don’t have to worry. If you’re going to have to close the shop, then make sure you go out with a blast!” he told himself. 

Before he could continue his pep talk, Mr. Quill was cut off by the sound of books falling on the wooden floor of his shop. Raising an eyebrow, Mr. Quill slowly turned around. 

‘That sounded like it came from the storage room,’ Mr. Quill thought. Guessing it was probably a bird that flew through an open window, Mr. Quill ignored it… that was, until he heard it again. Deciding not to ignore the noise again, Mr. Quill walked to the back of the counter, opened the door that led to his storage room, and entered it. 

Upon entering the storage room, Mr. Quill inspected every single bookshelf. Should any books be out of place, then he would know. He knew this storage like the back of his head, and he was not about to let a stupid bird knock down any books form their shelves. Slowly walking through the straight hallway, passing several shelves, Mr. Quill heard the noise again. Quickening his pace, he took a left and walked into the ‘Conjuration are’ of his storage. 

“Shoosh! Go away!” He said, hoping the bird—or whatever animal had entered the storage, would obey his command. He was surprised when he saw something rather… strange. It appeared to be a top hat, a hat he used to wear himself; when he was just a colt. The hat itself wasn’t the issue, no, it was the fact that it stuck out above the bookshelves. Whatever was wearing that hat; had to be at least six feet, even seven. Slowly, but cautiously walking towards the edge of the hall, Mr. Quill could see the top hat sticking out from the bookshelf on his right.

Mr. Quill had two choices. Turn back and walk away, or walk eight feet forward and make a right, thus facing whatever was in his storage. Deciding to go with the second option, he took a few cautious steps forward. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he quickly turned right. “Get out of my shop!” Mr. Quill shouted.

Opening his eyes, Mr. Quill’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened at what stood in front of him. In front of Mr. Quill stood a creature; unlike anything he had ever seen. It was a bipedal creature, it was wearing a strange attire that looked like it was very outdated. Holes in its attire. Scratches, and pieces of cloth were out of place. It stood at a towering seven feet, had shoulder-length, grey hair and wore a black top hat along with a brown leather jacket, which was colored red on the inside, dark red colored trousers, a tattered mantle and a scarf. Its legs were slightly different from one another. One leg appeared to be a V- shaped hoof, while the other was missing that V-shaped hoof, and was replaced by what appears to be a peg leg. 

Mr. Quill was already confused, if not frightened about the fact that a creature he was unfamiliar with had suddenly appeared in his storage. But the fact that it was carrying a humongous blade made it all the more intimidating.

Mr. Quill was frozen in place, his eyes fixed upon the creature that stood in front of him.

And then the creature looked directly at him.

“Equines that talk? Is this another sick; twisted experiment of the Healing Church, gone terribly wrong?” It spoke up.

“I-I…” Mr. Quill stuttered.

The creature raised an eyebrow at him, slowly limping towards him (which was probably because of its peg leg). It now stood in front of Mr. Quill, towering over the poor stallion as he could do nothing but stare up at it in fear. “Tell me, beast. Is this the waking world?” It asked, looking down at him.

“B-beast?” Mr. Quill repeated. Trying to regain his composure, Mr. Quill cleared his throat. “I am a unicorn, not a beast. And you are trespassing. If you leave now, I will not report this to the local authorities,” Mr. Quill said, trying to sound as intimidating as possible.

“Where… am I?” It asked, raising what appeared to be an eyebrow at him.

Mr. Quill raised an eyebrow at its question. “Where are you? Why you’re in Canterlot, of course,” Mr. Quill replied, glaring at the creature. “Have you been drinking? Is that how you ended up here, in my storage?”

The creature let out a sigh, and sat down in front of Mr. Quill. Even while sitting down, it was still towering over him. “I assure you, I have not been drinking,” it replied, looking down at Mr. Quill. “I haven’t had a drink since… a long time ago. I am Gehrman. What is your name, talking equine?”

Mr. Quill gulped. Maybe he should have just kept on cowering in fear, instead of starting a conversation with it. Deciding to be polite, Mr. Quill spoke up. “I am Silver Quill, but most ponies call me Mr. Quill. Now, could you please explain to me what you are doing in my storage?”

Gehrman looked around the storage room, a curious expression planted on his face. “Are you a librarian?” he asked, looking down at Mr. Quill.

“No, I am not,” Mr. Quill replied, glaring at Gehrman. “Please answer the question, Mr. Gehrman. What are you doing in my storage?” he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Gehrman placed his Burial Blade beside him, and stroked his chin. “I am not sure, Mr. Quill,” he replied.

“That’s it?” Mr. Quill asked.

“All I know is that I am finally freed from the dream. Freed from the night,” Gehrman replied. “I do not know how I ended up in you storage. All I know is that I am free.”

“If that’s the only explanation you’re going to give me, then I’m afraid I’ll have to report this to the local authorities.” Mr. Quill said as he turned around, ready to walk away from Gehrman. ‘To think I was actually scared of that thing.’ He thought to himself.

“It’s quite fascinating, you know.”

Mr. Quill stopped in his tracks. Turning around to face Gehrman, he raised an eyebrow at him. “What is fascinating?” he asked, a curious expression planted on his face.

“The amount of books here,” Gehrman replied, looking at the many bookshelves surrounding him. “I take it you are an expert?”

“Yes,” Mr. Quill cleared his throat. “Yes I am. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to contact the local--.”

“Before you do that,” Gehrman interrupted him, reaching for a bookshelf and grabbing a random book. “Could you explain to me what,” he said, reading the book’s cover. “Magic and other tricks, by Manedini; is about?”

“I suppose I could do that,” Mr. Quill replied, cautiously walking back to Gehrman. “But only if you promise not to hurt me.”

“You have my word.” Gehrman replied.

Mr. Quill looked closely into his eyes. He had this gift. In the past, when his son would lie to him about something, he would always blink twice in a row. His wife did it too. And even some of his old employees did it. Looking closely into Gehrman’s eyes, he noticed he did not blink twice. His eyes were sincere, not a single lie to be seen.

“Alright,” Mr. Quill said, levitating the book to him and flicking over to the first page. “But after this--.”

“I will come peacefully,” Gehrman interrupted him again. “I might have been a hunter of beasts, but I do have a reputation to keep. I always keep a promise.” He replied, nodding his head to Mr. Quill.

“Alright, if you say so,” Mr. Quill said. “Chapter one: Magic, where does it come from?”





Twilight could not be more excited than she already was. Not only did she get the opportunity to show her mentor her favorite store in all of Canterlot, but she also got the opportunity to save Mr. Quill from going bankrupt. When Princess Celestia agreed to tag along, Twilight almost cried tears of happiness. 

Princess Celestia ordered her guards not to follow them when she and Twilight left the castle. It was now getting dark, and most of Canterlot’s population had already returned to their homes. But the ones who were lucky to come across Princess Celestia and her student, bowed before them. 

The duo finally reached Paper and Quill’s bookstore. Entering the bookstore, the Alicorn and unicorn looked around the store, trying to find Mr. Quill.

“That’s weird,” Twilight commented, walking towards the counter.

“What is?” Celestia asked, following her student.

“The book that I wanted,” Twilight replied, levitating said book off the counter. “He never leaves a book out of its shelf.” Twilight said, turning to her mentor. “I don’t like this, Princess.”

Celestia just laughed a bit. “I’m sure everything is fine,” she replied, calming her student. “Maybe he forgot to put the book back on its shelf.”

Twilight looked down at the book. Nodding her head, she placed it back on the counter. “You’re right, Princess. I worry too much.” Twilight gave her mentor a sheepish smile.

“That is quite all right, but remember to—“

“For the last time, Mr. Gehrman. There is no such thing as ‘Arcane’ in Equestria. All we know of is basic and advanced magic. If this so called ‘Arcane’ does exist, surely Star Swirl the Bearded would have discovered it.” 

Both Twilight and Celestia turned their heads towards the source of the voice. It appeared to be coming from behind the counter. 

“Should we?” Twilight asked, looking at her mentor.

“Let’s just go,” Celestia smiled at her student. 

Both Alicorn and unicorn walked behind the counter. Opening the door that led to the storage—which Twilight had told her mentor about when they were walking through Canterlot—. The duo both entered the storage, looking around and inspecting every bookshelf.

“I still don’t understand why we didn’t just teleport our way to here,” Twilight said a little too loud than she wanted to.

“Because I like to walk through the city, with my number one student at my side.” Celestia replied, giggling at Twilight’s reaction of surprise and embarrassment.

“What about blood ministration? Surely you must have heard of that?”

“No, I have not. And as a matter of fact, I’m happy about it. Because it sounds absolutely disgusting.”

Twilight’s ears perked up as she followed the two voices, her mentor not far behind. The voices were getting louder and louder, indicating that they were following the right track. Taking a left and walking several feet forward. Twilight could clearly hear the two voices; coming from behind the bookshelf to her right. Deciding to keep her mouth shut, Twilight slowly walked forward. She saw that she could turn right, and so she did. 

‘Please be all right,’ Twilight thought to herself as she turned right.

What she saw upon entering the ‘hallway’ blew her mind. There sat Mr. Quill, on the wooden floor of his storage, talking to a creature unlike she had ever seen. 

“Twilight, you’re walking a little too fast for—oh, I didn’t know he had company,” Celestia said, looking down at her student. 

The creature, in return, tilted his head sideways. “Oh,” it said, taking a quick glance at Mr. Quill and returning his gaze upon Twilight and her mentor. “Are you by any chance the local authorities?”

> Chapter IV
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Celestia could only stare in amusement at the scene that was unfolding in front of her. There was Twilight, who was freaking out about the creature in front of her. There was Mr. Quill, who was trying to calm her down. And there was the creature in question, who was watching the scene unfold as well, just like she was.

“Ms. Sparkle, please calm down,” Mr. Quill said, sweat dripping down his forehead as he held his hooves up as way to calm her down. 

“I am calm!” Twilight retorted, her eyes darting around the storage room. “But it’s kind of weird; finding one of your oldest friend—no offense—talking to a creature that is over twice his size and carries a humongous blade!”

Mr. Quill let out a nervous chuckle, looking back at Gehrman, who was watching him, curiosity filling his eyes. Turning back to Twilight, Mr. Quill cleared his throat. “Mr. Gehrman and I were just talking about Equestrian magic. He entered my shop and asked a few questions, after that; I went to show him my storage.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow at him, looking closely at him.

Mr. Quill blinked twice.

“Aha!” Twilight said, pointing her hoof at Mr. Quill accusingly. “You’re lying! I know because you told me how to see through ponies’ lies. By looking at their eyes. And you just lied to me!” She said. Turning to her mentor, Twilight’s eyes widened a bit when she saw her mentor walking passed her, her gaze fixed upon the creature that sat behind Mr. Quill.

“Hello,” Celestia smiled, bowing her head respectfully at the creature. “Mr. Gehrman, was it?”

As a reply, Gehrman slowly pushed himself off the floor. His back ached and his bones cracked, but he ignored it. Pain was something he did not care about, for he had been living in pain, ever since the day he became the host of that accursed Hunter’s Dream. Grabbing hold of the hilt of his Burial Blade, Gehrman now stood at his full height. Walking over towards Celestia, with the occasional limping because of his peg leg, Gehrman looked down at her. 

“Just Gehrman will do,” Gehrman replied. Even though Princess Celestia was the tallest pony in all of Equestria, Gehrman still towered over her, her horn only reaching the base of his neck. “What is your name?” he asked.

“I am Princess Celestia, co-ruler of Equestria,” Celestia replied, looking up at Gehrman. “Pardon my blunt question, but what are you, if I may ask? I have never seen anything like you, and I know of every race that lives in Equestria.”

Gehrman blinked in confusion, bringing his hand to his mouth, he coughed before replying. “My race is knows as humans,” he replied. “Your highness, I would bow before you, if I wanted. But I simply do not bow for anyone, anymore.” Gehrman said. 

These blunt, yet honest words surprised her. But nonetheless, Celestia respected his words. “That is… understandable, I think,” she replied, taking a quick glance at Mr. Quill. “Mr. Quill, would you be as kind as to tell us how Gehrman ended up in your shop?”

Mr. Quill nodded. “Well in all honesty Princess, he just appeared here. He wasn’t in here when I checked the storage minutes before I opened the store. He couldn’t have entered through the windows,” he said, turning his head sideways and looking at one of the windows in question. “Because he would not have been able to fit through them.” 

“So you’re saying he just ‘appeared’ in your storage, without you noticing him?” Celestia asked, kind of stating the obvious.

Mr. Quill nodded. “Indeed he did,” he replied, looking up at Gehrman. “I was scared—no, frightened at first. But then we actually started talking about Equestria’s magic,” he said, looking at the book Gehrman had grabbed from one of the bookshelves in his storage; a few hours ago. “And it turns out I judged him because of the way he looks. Because in all honesty, Mr. Gehrman is a very nice man.”

“Man?” Twilight asked, giving Mr. Quill a look of confusion. 

“That’s what he said to me,” Mr. Quill said, turning his head to Twilight. “As I recall, Mr. Gehrman told me he was a very ‘reasonable man’.”

Celestia returned her gaze to Gehrman, to inspect every aspect of his features. There was no fur on him whatsoever, except for a white colored mane that was partially covered by a top hat. He had wrinkles all over his face, and his eyes were a bit off. They were quite small, compared to a ponies’ eyes. But the fact that he was even taller than she was, made her feel a bit uneasy, standing in front of something she had never heard of. 

“Is something the matter, your highness?” Gehrman asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Celestia shook her head. “I’m fine,” she smiled at him. “So, where are your from, Gehrman?”

“Yharnam, your highness,” Gehrman replied.

“Yharnam?” Celestia repeated, looking at Gehrman with a skeptical look. “I have never heard of that kingdom before.”

Gehrman, in return, gave Celestia a look of confusion. “Surely you must have heard of Yharnam? Home of blood ministration, and the Healing Church.”

“I have never heard of said kingdom, Gehrman,” Celestia replied, glancing down at her student. “Have you, Twilight?”

Twilight shook her head. “There are no books in the library stating that there is a kingdom called Yharnam in Equestria.” Twilight looked at Mr. Quill. “Have you ever heard of this ‘Yharnam’, Mr. Quill?”

“Can’t say I have,” Mr. Quill replied, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. “Listen I would love to stay here and chit chat a little longer, but I am very tired and--.”

“We will take our leave, immediately,” Celestia cut him off. “Gehrman, would you like to go to Canterlot castle with us? I have a few questions I want to ask you.”

“Of course, your highness,” Gehrman replied. Kneeling before her, Gehrman turned around to face Mr. Quill. “I thank you for you hospitality, I am in you debt. If you ever need help, feel free to contact me.” Gehrman said as he bowed his head.

Mr. Quill nodded his head, a small smile making its way up to his lips. “Thank you, Mr. Gehrman, and I apologize for my rude behavior from before.”

“There is no need to apologize,” Gehrman said as he stood at his full height again. “I will gladly accompany you to your castle, Princess.” He said, turning to Celestia.

Princess Celestia nodded her head in appreciation. Turning to Mr. Quill, she spoke four words that made him one of the happiest unicorns in all of Equestria. “Your bookshop is safe,” she smiled at him. Taking quick glances at her student and Gehrman, Celestia closed her eyes and concentrated her thoughts on the place she wanted to go to. Within the blink of an eye Twilight, Celestia, and Gehrman were gone. Leaving Mr. Quill to himself.

“Gehrman,” Mr. Quill said, chuckling slightly. “To think I thought ill of you, when in truth; you were… a friend.”





Princess Celestia, Twilight, and Gehrman all appeared in Canterlot’s throne room, startling two pegasi guards who were guarding the entrance from inside the throne room. The guards, noticing their Princess, bowed their heads respectfully.

“Your majesty,” one of them said, looking up at her. “We did not expect you to return so early,” his eyes were now fixed upon Gehrman. “You brought company, your majesty?”

Princess Celestia nodded her head. “Indeed I did,” she replied, turning her head to Gehrman. “Would you two kindly tell my sister; that her sister requests her presence in the throne room.”

The two guards saluted and turned around, leaving the throne room and closing the doors behind them. 

Celestia watched in slight amusement as she saw how Gehrman was observing every aspect of her throne room. “Gehrman?” Celestia asked, getting his attention.

“Yes, your highness?” Gehrman said, turning his head to her. “What is it?” he asked politely.

“My sister will be joining us soon, and I think that my young student,” Celestia said as she looked down at Twilight. “And I have some questions for you.”

“I will be happy to answer them, your highness,”” Gehrman replied, smiling at the Sun Princess. Gehrman looked down at his peg leg. His peg leg did a good job resembling his missing foot. But it was nothing compared to the real deal. He wiggled his peg leg a bit, unintentionally getting the attention of Celestia.

“Does it hurt? Would you like to sit down?” Celestia asked in her usual soothing voice. “Please,” she said, walking over to Gehrman and draping her wing around his shoulder. “You can take a seat on my throne. It’s not something I let everypony do, but for you, I will make an exception.”

“I cannot do that. The throne is meant for royalty and nobles, and I am no noble. Far from it.” Gehrman replied, shaking his head dismissively. “It would be a disgrace, letting a person like me sit on your throne.”

“And why would it be a disgrace?” Celestia asked, confusion clearly present in her voice. “From what I’ve heard and seen so far, you seem like a very kind and honest man.”

“Words and looks can be deceiving, your highness,” Gehrman retorted, tightening his grip around his Burial Blade. ‘It was all our fault, Laurence. That damned excursion into the old labyrinths should have never happened.’

Celestia raised an eyebrow at his statement. Words and looks can be deceiving? Was he implying that he had been lying to her? To Mr. Quill? Deciding not to go deeper into the subject, Celestia asked him another question.

“Do you know where you are, exactly?”

Gehrman shook his head. “I do not. I have never seen or heard of talking equines before, nor have I ever heard of this ‘Canterlot’ you speak of.” He replied, looking down at his Burial Blade. ‘Should I ask her? Should I?’

“Gehrman, if there is something you wish to tell me. Now would be the time,” Celestia said, looking at Gehrman with a stern expression. Celestia treated everyone with kindness. If they needed help, she would do her best to give said help. But there are a few things she dislikes. And one of those things; was lying.

“Your highness, if you have never heard of Yharnam, then there is nothing to be told,” Gehrman retorted. “Where am I, your highness? Where has the moon sent me to? Has the dream not come to an end?” he asked, his eyes filled with fear. 

“You are in Equestria. A magical land that is inhabited by many different kinds of species, but mostly ponies. I do not know where this Yharnam you speak of is located. Wherever you thought you were, is not where you are.” Princess Celestia replied. 

“I… do not understand. The hunt is over. The night has come to an end. Does that mean he succeeded into doing the impossible?” Gehrman said to himself, sheathing his Burial Blade into its sheath. 

“Who is ‘he’ and what ‘hunt’ are you talking about?” Celestia asked, slowly backing away from him.

“I am free,” Gehrman whispered to himself. 

“He’s clearly out of his mind, Princess,” Twilight said, taking a quick glance at Gehrman. “He doesn’t know where he is. He’s talking about some kind of hunt. And he claims to be from a place called Yharnam—which I might add, is nowhere to be found on any maps and--.” Twilight froze mid-sentence, her eyes widening as realization finally hit her. “No way,” she said, looking up at Gehrman. “No way. This can’t be. You don’t exist, only in comic books.”

“Twilight, what are you talking about?” Celestia asked.

“Don’t you get it, Princess? He doesn’t know where he is because he isn’t form Equestria. He isn’t from our planet. He’s an--.”

“Alien.”

Both ponies and human turned their heads towards the source of the voice they just heard. A familiar dark blue Alicorn entered the throne room, her regal yet stern voice echoing through the throne room. 

Princess Luna walked towards her sister. Using her magic to close the doors behind her, she turned her head and her gaze fixed upon her sister. “I see,” she said, standing in front of her sister. “So this is why you summoned us,” Luna said, looking at Gehrman.

“Sister, meet Gehrman,” Celestia said.

“Greetings visitor from the stars,” Luna said, bowing her head respectfully. “We are Princess Luna. Princes of the Night and Moon.”

As a reply, Gehrman un-sheathed his Burial Blade and held the tip of his blade to Luna’s neck.

“Spawn of the moon, state your business in this royal castle.” Gehrman said, his eyes burning with rage.

“Uhm, we art… sorry?” Luna asked, sweat dripping down her forehead.

> Chapter V
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When her sister’s Solar guards had informed her; her sister wanted to have a word with her, Princess Luna happily obliged. Ever since her return from the moon, she has been opening up more and more to her sister. The Nightmare Night she and Twilight had spent together was the prime example. She didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

All those thoughts disappeared, however, when she felt the tip of a blade being pointed at her neck. What had she done to anger this creature? Were her introductions a bit rude? Did she have something on her face?

“G-greetings, visitor from the stars,” Luna said, looking at Gehrman. “How art thou doing, this lovely evening?”

Gehrman said nothing. He kept on glaring at her, his rage never leaving his eyes. Whatever was going on. Wherever he was. It seemed that the moon—but most likely one of its spawns—had followed him. Was the moon that keen on keeping him in that accursed Hunter’s Dream? Had he not suffered enough?

“S-sister, not to be rude or anything, but could thou please ask your guest to sheath his blade?” Luna asked, turning her head sideways and looking directly at her sister.

“Gehrman, what is the meaning of this?” Celestia asked. Both angered and shocked about the fact that someone she deemed friendly, would commit such an act.

“I will not have you fall victim to this spawn of the moon,” Gehrman replied, tightening his grip around the hilt of his Burial Blade, never breaking eye contact with Luna. “State your business, this instant. Lest you return to your originator.”

“Princess Luna is my sister,” Celestia interrupted, glaring sternly at Gehrman. “She is not a ‘spawn of the moon’. She raises and lowers the moon. She controls it!”

“S-she controls it?” Gehrman asked. Slowly lowering his blade, Gehrman stumbled backwards. “I-I do not understand. The Old Ones, they ascended themselves into a higher existence. The moon, the hunt, the dream. I-I…” Gehrman trailed of, looking at Luna. “Are you… an Old One?”

Luna rubbed her neck, shaking her head while doing so. “No, we are not. And second,” she said, turning to her sister. “Art thou out of thine mind, sister?! Why wouldst thou let a dangerous creature like him, enter our royal castle?!”

“Because he seemed like a reasonable and kind man,” Celestia sighed, taking a glance at Gehrman. “It seems like his looks deceived me.”

Gehrman looked down at his hands, lost in his thoughts. He did not understand where he was. Was he freed from the dream? Why was there a ‘Princess of the Moon’? And if he was indeed freed, was this the afterlife? He was old, very old. Long ago, when he vowed to watch over the dream, he was granted a purpose. But that meant he could never return to the waking world. Laurence, Master Willem, they all made their own choices. The only difference was that the two of them, got to see the sun rise above Yharnam. While Gehrman could only watch as the morning dew covered his clothes, and the flowers in the Hunter’s Dream.

So what happened to him? Why did he end up in this strange, unfamiliar world? Talking equines did not seem like the work of the Old Blood. They were no beasts. If they were, the smell would have given them away.

“I am free,” Gehrman whispered to himself, realization finally hitting him. The reason he felt so awake, was because he was awake. The reason he could walk without the help of his moon, was because his moon was not here. And the reason he did not notice or smell any signs of the Old Blood, was because there was no Old Blood to begin with. He… was free.

“Gehrman, I am sorry; but you will be taken into custody until further notice,” Celestia said, glaring at him as she slowly walked towards him. “Hand over your weapons.”

“Your majesty,” Gehrman said, looking at Celestia. “Please forgive my sudden act of hostility. Your sister’s title just reminded me of something.”

“Of what?” 

“Something bad. Something… greater,” Gehrman replied. Bowing his head, Gehrman mentally scowled himself. He was a hunter of beasts, but these were no beasts to begin with. “Execute me, if you must. But please, let me enjoy what little time I have left in this waking world.”

“Your words are like riddles, Gehrman,” Celestia glared at him. “I am going to ask you this one more time. How did you arrive in Equestria? And I will not take ‘I do not remember’ for an answer.”

“I remember walking over a graveled path. Gravestones of fallen hunters as far as the eye could see. Then, there was a blinding light. It soothed me and it made me feel at peace. The next thing I know, I woke up in Mr. Quill’s bookstore,” Gehrman replied, sheathing his Burial Blade and bowing his head in shame. “That is all I want to remember. I want to forget about my past, about the dream, about the blood.”

“You have been talking about this ‘Old Blood’ for quite some time, now,” Twilight commented, looking up at Gehrman with a curious expression. “What is it? And why do you keep mentioning it, whenever we ask you about how you arrived here?”

“It all started with blood. The Old Blood was found in the old labyrinths underneath Yharnam. When it was discovered, people saw it as a cure. And it was. The Old Blood cured any disease, whether it be a plague, or a simple cold, it cured everything. Word quickly spread, and people from all over the world came to visit Yharnam, only to get a simple sample of the Old Blood. Blood of the Gods, they called it,” Gehrman replied, his eyes filled with regret and sadness. 

“What happened next?” Twilight asked, curiosity filling her eyes.

“A plague,” Gehrman replied, looking down at her. “A plague beasts that spread widely across Yharnam. The Old Blood was seen as a cure for this plague, and for a long time it was. Until the plague of beats could not be haltered any longer. Many sick travelers, infected with this plague came to visit Yharnam, because it was famous for its blood ministration. Many hunters have come and gone, all of them refused my offer. So I had to forcefully free them from the dream.”

Celestia sighed, rubbing her forehead as she looked between her sister, Twilight, and Gehrman. “I think we’ve heard enough,” she said, turning to Luna. “It’s up to you, sister. Does Gehrman deserve a second chance?”

Luna immediately nodded her head. “Yes he does. We have learned a lot from young Twilight Sparkle. I think she would agree with our decision to let our visitor from the stars, be given a second chance.”

Twilight nodded her head in agreement. “Whatever Gehrman is talking about, it seems like it really did a number on him. I think he’s just happy. Happy that he far, far away from the plague of beasts,” she said, looking at Gehrman. “Right?” she asked.

“You have no idea,” Gehrman replied, looking down at his peg leg. “The hunt cost me my foot, the beasts the ones I held dear.”

“It’s settled then,” Celestia said, looking at the two bat pony guards that had entered the throne room. “Take him to the guest quarters and--.”

“Actually,” Luna interrupted. “Since he is our guest, we think he should be given a royal treatment. He is not from our world, remember?”

“He almost slit your throat, remember?” Celestia retorted.

Luna shook her head in a dismissive way. “All is forgiven. Besides,” she said, smirking at Gehrman. “He would have probably been too slow to even lay a hoof on us.”

Celestia could only shake her head as she motioned for the two guards to leave the throne room. Looking back at Gehrman, she spoke up.

“Gehrman, I will be heading to my chambers. Twilight, you should get some sleep, too. And Luna,” she said, taking a quick glance at her sister. “Be careful.”

“No worries, dear sister,” Luna replied, nudging Gehrman. “I assure you that Gehrman and I will not ‘slit each other’s throats’.”

Nodding her head, Celestia teleported herself to her chambers. Twilight excused herself and left the throne room, heading to her chambers as well. This left Gehrman and Luna standing inside the throne room. An awkward silence following soon after.

“So,” Luna broke the silence. “Art thou tired?”

“No,” Gehrman replied.

“Ah, cool, cool…” Luna trailed off.

“Are you?” Gehrman asked.

“Nay,” Luna replied.

“…”

“…”

Gehrman let out a long sigh. Was he actually getting bored? He wasn’t even in the dream anymore, so why was he getting bored?

“What do you usually do, on a night like this?” Gehrman asked. 

“We usually watch over our subject’s dreams, making sure they are pleasant,” Luna replied, raising an eyebrow at him. “What does thou usually do, on a night like this?”

“For a very long time I watched over a dream, too. Making sure whoever entered it, had a pleasant stay. Before returning to the waking world, returning to the hunt.”

“So… thou art like us?” Luna asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

“In a way, yes,” Gehrman replied.

“We art guessing thine dream differs from the dreams we watch over?” Luna asked.

“In all honesty, your majesty,” Gehrman replied, looking her directly in her eyes. “It was more like a nightmare, than a dream. Constantly being forced by the moon, to watch over that accursed Hunter’s Dream. Having to watch as hunters who sign that accursed contract and enter the dream, get to leave and wake up in the waking world,” Looking down at the concrete floor of the throne room, Gehrman felt a sudden wave regret washing over him. “And now, the hunter who achieved the impossible, has to take my place. I should not have lost. He should not suffer the consequences of my mistake.”

Luna’s expression turned into one of compassion as she saw sadness filling Gehrman’s eyes. In a way, he reminded her of herself. Or, her former self to be precise. She too felt regret of committing such acts of betrayal in the past. Her jealousy taking the best of her. But Gehrman seemed to be blaming himself for everything. What exactly happened to him, that caused him to have such a negative view of himself? Why did he hate dreaming so much?

Dreams weren’t a bad thing. No, on the contrary. Dreams were good. They were pleasant and they allowed you to experience things you could not do in the real world. She just needed to show that to him.

Deciding not to waste any more time, Luna closed her eyes and prepared to cast a spell. A spell to enter the realm of dreams, to be precise. Little did she know, that Gehrman has had enough of dreams.

> Chapter VI
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dreams are successions of images, ideas, emotions, and sensations that occur usually involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep. The content and purpose of dreams are not definitively understood, though they have been a topic of scientific speculation, as well as a subject of philosophical and religious interest, throughout recorded history. 

The length of a dream can vary; they may last for a few seconds, or approximately twenty to thirty minutes. People are more likely to remember the dream if they are awakened during the REM phase. The average person has three to five dreams per night, and some may have up to seven; however, most dreams are immediately or quickly forgotten.

But for Gehrman, the dream lasted longer than any dream should. He was awake during his dream. He wanted to forget his dream.

Now that he was finally free from his dream, he could live out the rest of his life in peace. 

Gehrman felt a strange sensation course through his body. It felt like he was being tickled at first, but then it felt like someone or something was massaging his entire body. It felt really good. Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh of relief—something he hadn’t been able to do for a very long time, during his time in the Hunter’s dream. He felt a soothing warmth running through his veins, and for a brief moment he could remember those he held dear to him.

That was until the feeling abruptly ended. Opening his eyes, Gehrman almost jumped out of his socks. Why was he flying? And why was he flying over a humongous mountain and…was that Canterlot castle, in the distance?

“What in the name of,” Gehrman trailed of. Turning his head, Gehrman’s eyes fell upon a certain Princess of the Night. “Your majesty, what is going on? Why are we flying?” Gehrman asked, confusion written over his face.

“You will find out, eventually,” Luna replied, looking down at the ground which they were flying above. They would keep on flying like this, until they reached Ponyville. Luna had no idea if the spell had worked on him, but luckily it did. “Gehrman,” Luna began, turning to Gehrman, only for her to stop mid-sentence. Gehrman was-- for reasons unknown to her-- staring intentionally at the moon, which confused her. Looking up at her moon made Luna even more confused. There seemed to be nothing wrong with it, so why was Gehrman staring so intentionally at it?

Gehrman on the other hand, was thinking the complete opposite. ‘The moon. I do not sense its presence anymore. I can see it clearly, but it does not grant me strength. It does not control me anymore. I have been… unshackled.’

Turning gaze away from the moon, Gehrman turned to Luna. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Is something the matter, your majesty?” he asked, having noticed she had been staring at him for quite some time now.

Luna blinked a few times and then shook her head. “Nay,” she replied, clearing her throat. “We were just wondering why thou was staring at our moon so intentionally.” She admitted.

“It just… brought up unpleasant memories. That is all, your majesty,” Gehrman replied. This was no lie. It did bring up unpleasant memories, but what those memories meant, he would keep to himself. He did not want to bother others about his past. ‘Good hunter,’ Gehrman thought, closing his eyes and bowing his head in shame. ‘I cannot believe what you did. When I tried to unshackle you, you unshackled me. Why? I do not know. I do not understand why you would have my faith befall upon you. It was my mistake, and I should have been the only one to face its consequences!’

Opening his eyes again, Gehrman reached for his back. Grabbing hold of his Blunderbuss, he flicked the barrel downwards and a simple, unfired Quicksilver Bullet popped out of it. Grabbing hold of the bullet, he held it to the sky, letting the moons light shine on it. In the engravings of the bullet, he could see traces of a red substance running to those engraves. His blood. His own blood was in those engraves.

The bullet, however, seemed to have peeked the attention of Luna. “Pray tell,” she said, moving closer towards him. “What is that you are holding?”

“A Quicksilver Bullet,” Gehrman replied, never taking his eyes off the object. “An object meant to hurt and kill beasts.”

“Quicksilver? Wouldst thou care to explain what Quicksilver is?” Luna asked.

A bullet is a projectile propelled by a firearm. Bullets damage the intended target by impact and penetration. The word "bullet" is sometimes colloquially used to refer to ammunition in general, or to a cartridge, which is a combination of the bullet, case or shell, powder, and primer.” Gehrman replied. Teaching those new hunters who entered the dream sure payed of.

“And what is a firearm?” Luna asked.

Gehrman showed her his Blunderbuss. “This is a firearm. A firearm is a portable gun, being a barreled weapon that launches one or more projectiles often driven by the action of an explosive force.”

“So these bullets go into a firearm, and then what happens?” 

As a reply, Gehrman loaded his Blunderbuss and held it to the sky. Looking up, he pulled the trigger. A loud ‘bang’ could be heard, echoing through the sky. The Quicksilver Bullet was shot out of the Blunderbuss, a shotgun effect following soon after. 

“That it was happens,” Gehrman replied, attaching his weapon to his back. “It kills. Simple as that.”

Luna gulped. Perhaps she should have asked, because her ears now hurt a bit, due to the loud explosion. Turning her head and looking off into the far distance, she saw a familiar town closing in on her. “Ah, it would appear we will arrive in Ponyville, shortly,” she said, turning back to Gehrman. “Art thou ready, Gehrman?”

“Ready for what, your majesty?” Gehrman asked, confusion clearly present in his voice. 

“The reason we are flying. The reason we are heading towards Ponyville,” Luna replied, a wide smile appearing on her face. “We are going to show thee that dreams aren’t as bad as you think!”

“What are you getting at, your majesty?” Gehrman asked, a skeptical look present on his face.

“We are about to enter the dreams of our subjects. We will show thee that their dreams are pleasant. Thou seems to have a negative view of dreaming, so we decided to change thine thoughts by showing thee that dreams have no limits.” Luna replied with a cheerful expression. She was truly happy she got to share such an experience with someone. It was rare for her to allow someone to enter dreams with her. But she knew it would help Gehrman come over his fears. It would allow him to get a positive view on dreaming.

“NO!” Gehrman all but shouted. Grabbing hold of his Blunderbuss, Gehrman quickly reloaded his weapon and aimed it at her. “I am not going back into the dream. Even if it is someone else’s! I will not spent another second in that godforsaken place! I belong in the waking world!”

Luna’s eyes widened in shock. She stumbled backwards a little bit—even though she was flying. “L-Lower thine weapon, Gehrman,” Luna said, trying to sound as regal as possible; even though that proved to be a challenge, due to the fact she had the barrel of a gun pointed at her. “We just want to show thee how pleasant dreams can be.”

“Dreams. To hell with your dreams!” Gehrman retorted, tightening his grip around his Blunderbuss. “I will not go back to a dream. I have been in a dream for long enough! Leave me be,” Gehrman sighed. “I demand you bring me back to the palace and let me rest. I have no need to see your subject’s dreams.” He lowered his Blunderbuss, but kept glaring at her.

“Thou art not in a position to demand anything,” Luna retorted. 

“You did not have my permission to take me on this little journey. I never gave you any permission to cast a spell on me.”

Luna was about to speak up, but Gehrman cut her off once again.

“I know you casted a spell on me. I am familiar with the Arcane and its effects. Though I must say that your Arcane level exceeds that of anyone I have ever met.” Gehrman kept on glaring at her. “Return me at once,”

“And what if we do not?” Luna asked.

“Then I will see to it that this will be the last time you ever take flight, your majesty,” Gehrman replied, tugging at his Burial Blade.

“Not even one dream? Not even that of a filly, or a colt?” Luna asked, looking at Gehrman with a hopeful, yet sad expression.

“…”

“Is that a yes?” Luna asked.

“I said NO!” Gehrman roared at her again. “Do you have any idea what you are doing, your majesty? I do not want to see, enter, or even talk about dreams anymore! I have had enough of dreaming! Dreams are supposed to last for a few hours, but try and live in one for over twenty years!” 

He was panting. The First Hunter was panting. Not because of exhaustion. Not because he had just freed another hunter from the dream. But because realization hit him, again. He had been stuck in the dream for so many years. His friends, his family… they were either dead, turned beast, or suffered an even worse fate. He wasn’t there to save them. He wasn’t there when the ones he held dear were maimed by the beasts. He only cared about his own, greedy desires. Because he felt left out. Because he felt useless. Well, if he had decided to stay useless, he would have never lost the ones dear to him.

But he didn’t. He didn’t stay useless. He went from kind hearted and calm, to depressed and enraged. Enraged at himself. Enraged because of the fact his act of greed, cost him everything he held dear. he didn’t even remember who that doll was supposed to resemble anymore. Falling to his knees—which seemed impossible at first, hence the flying—Gehrman put his hands to his face and began sobbing into them.

He wanted to die. He so desperately wanted to be free from the dream. And now he was. But even now, in the waking world, people are still trying to take him back into the dream. As if he hadn’t suffered enough. Gehrman’s sobbing continued. He often cried himself to sleep, too.

Gehrman suddenly felt something drape around his shoulders. Taking his hands away from his face, Gehrman turned his head, his vision a bit blurry because of the tears in his eyes. Rubbing his eyes and shaking off whatever it was that had draped around his shoulder, Gehrman stood at his full height again.

“Please,” Gehrman whispered, looking down at Luna. “Take us back.”

Luna looked at him with a compassionate expression. This was not what she had in mind. She only wanted to show him how pleasant and how much fun dreams could be. But now she feared that Gehrman might have even more distrust for her, than he already had. “We are sorry, Gehrman. We will return thee to Canterlot. Our guards will escort thee to thine chambers,” Luna said, her voice full of sincerity. Turning around mid-air, the duo headed back for Canterlot.

‘Next time, Luna. Think before you act.’ Luna thought to herself. Taking a quick glance at Gehrman, Luna saw that he had once again closed his eyes. He seemed to do that a lot. For what reason, however, was unknown to her. Perhaps his eyes had trouble adjusting to the cold air? Perhaps it was because they were flying really high. Or perhaps it was because of the fact she brought up unpleasant memories?

Whatever it was, it was probably for the best to leave it be. Gehrman seemed absolutely devastated about the fact he was going to enter a dream. For others it would have been an honor. But for him it seemed more like a punishment of sorts. But why? Why did he had such a negative view towards dreaming? 

Luna was at a loss. She was the Princess of the Night, but even she could not figure out what was going on in Gehrman’s head. She knew she couldn’t get any answers out of him, by just asking him what was wrong. And entering his dreams without permission seemed like an even worse idea... that is, if he still had dreams. From the looks of it, and from listening to his words, it would seem that he does not dream often. But no dreams would mean no sleep. And no sleep would turn one insane. He or she would lose their sanity and do reckless things. Perhaps that was his reason for pointing his weapons at her. Perhaps he was losing his sanity.

‘It would be wise to discuss this with sister,’ Luna thought to herself. ‘Lest I get the edge of a blade pointed at me again’  she shuddered at the thought.

The duo finally reached Canterlot after a short, but silent flight. Luna had teleported them back into the throne room, were she ordered two of her guards to take care of Gehrman, while she attended her duties as a Princess. 

And now she was heading back to Ponyville. The soft wind brushing against her body, the cold air calming her mind. She did not have any ill intentions against Gehrman. Her act was not one of revenge. She just wanted to help him, that’s all. She wanted to be on good terms with him… perhaps befriending him. Yeah, that’s never going to happen now. She made a mistake. A big mistake. The least she can do is try and make it up to Gehrman.

And luckily for her, she had just the way of doing so. But she was going to need the help of her sister, and her protégé. 

> Chapter VII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moon had descended and the sun had risen. The night had ended and the day would begin. Gehrman stood on a balcony—a balcony he had discovered after he explored his chambers. He hadn’t slept through the night. He did not want to fall asleep. Instead, he grabbed a chair that stood at a desk, which was also located in his chambers and placed it on the balcony. He sat down on it and stared at the moon; all night. It was a habit. A bad habit, at that.

But the now the sun had risen. It was the first sunrise he had seen in a long time, and he adored every second of it. He could feel the heat of the sun’s rays descending on his body. His clothes were warmed, and his body felt at peace. He could get used to this.

Closing his eyes and leaning back into his chair, Gehrman’s thoughts drifted off to last night. He did not care if Princess Luna would inform her sister of his acts. He got to see the sunrise, and that was something no one could ever take away from him. Gehrman was finally at peace. Perhaps the good hunter had succeeded into doing the impossible. To slay a Great One is not only an act of pure strength, but it also shows the determination said hunter has. And this hunter had the heart of a mountain lion, and the strength of a thousand men. He truly was the one to unshackle Gehrman form his fate. And Gehrman would be ever grateful for it.

It was at this moment, that a knock on his door could be heard. “Enter,” Gehrman called out from the balcony, not bothering to get up. 

He could hear the door opening, but he did not bother to look behind him. Hoof steps could be heard; echoing through the chamber. Gehrman could sense that someone was behind him.

“Good morning,” A soothing voice said from behind him.

“A good morning indeed, your majesty,” Gehrman replied. Turning his head, he looked up at Princess Celestia. “The sun is beautiful today, just like I remember.”

Celestia smiled at his kind words. “Thank you, Gehrman. I try to do a good job. Raising the sun is quite the job, but I like it.”

“Raise the sun, your majesty?” Gehrman asked, confusion clearly present in his voice.

“I’m guessing the sun isn’t raised by somepony, in your world?” Celestia asked.

“I do not know. Perhaps there is a Great One. But all I know, is that the sun raises and lowers itself.” Gehrman replied, looking back up at the sun. 

“Fascinating,” Celestia said to herself. Tapping Gehrman’s shoulder, she continued. “My sister told me what occurred last night. I must apologize for her behavior. But I assure you that she had no ill intent. She just wanted to help.”

“I understand, your majesty,” Gehrman replied, stiffing a yawn. “But I think it would be for the best if me and your sister would not see, or speak to each other for a little while. I need to sort things out, and having your sister constantly bother me with questions is not going to speed up that process.”

“Well then, I have just the thing for you,” Celestia said. “When my sister told me what occurred last night, I came up with a solution.”

Gehrman turned his head again. “And that would be?”

“My student, Twilight Sparkle, has agreed to take you with her to her home in Ponyville,” Celestia replied, smiling as she watched Gehrman get off his chair.

“I am to be transported to another city?” Gehrman asked, now at his full height. God his back hurt, he probably shouldn’t sit in such an uncomfortable wooden chair again. He missed his wheelchair. He really did.

Celestia nodded her head. “Indeed you are, Gehrman. Or would you like to stay in Canterlot? We aren’t forcing you to leave.”

Gehrman shook his head. He wanted to get away from Princess Luna for a little while. He didn’t hate her or anything, he just wanted to be away from the one who reminded him so much of the night, and the dream. “I will follow your request, your majesty,” Gehrman replied, walking passed her. “I am to leave momentarily, I presume?” he asked, turning his head.

Celestia nodded.

“Then so be it.”’ Gehrman said as he walked back into his chambers. He continued walking forward until he reached the exit. He opened the door and stepped outside. He observed the magnificent lit halls of Canterlot castle. He remembered the way to the throne room, but he decided to wait for Celestia to join him. Celestia eventually stepped out of his chambers as well. She closed the door behind her and looked up at Gehrman.

“Twilight is waiting for you at the entrance to the castle,” she said. “Would you prefer to be teleported, or do you want to walk?” she asked politely.

“How long is the walk?” Gehrman asked.

“About ten minutes.” Celestia replied.

“I think a walk will do me good,” Gehrman said, stretching his back. “Unless you would prefer this ‘teleportation’, your majesty.”

Celestia shook her head, smiling at the hunter. “A walk it is.”

The duo began their ‘trek’ through Canterlot castle. They passed several guards, who all bowed their heads when they laid eyes upon their Princess. ‘Is that the monster you were talking about?’ Gehrman could hear one of the guards ask another guard. Monster… perhaps he was indeed a monster. He was partially responsible for bringing the Old Blood into Yharnam. Could the plague of beasts have been prevented, had he spoken out on the excursion? He would never know.

Gehrman wondered if Celestia and Luna were the only royalty in this unfamiliar land. If not, then he would gladly meet the others. It’s better to be on the good side of royalty, than the bad side. Gehrman never was a man for royalty, but he treated them with respect nonetheless. Something Laurence taught him a long time ago... Laurence, how he missed his old friend. He could still not believe he had turned into a beast. He scolded himself for it, every day. 

Master Willem. He is still sitting on that balcony for all he knows, trying to elevate his thoughts to a higher existence. Whatever became him? Did he succeed in his goals? Did he make contact with a Great One? Gehrman did not know.

Having been lost in his thoughts for so long, Gehrman had not noticed they had already reached the main doors of Canterlot castle.

“Well that went quicker than expected,” Celestia commented, glancing down at Gehrman’s peg leg. “I’m impressed you were able to keep up, considering your peg hoof.” 

Gehrman snapped out of his thoughts. Turning to Celestia, he spoke up. “I’m sorry your majesty, I must have drifted off. What was it you said?”

Celestia shook her head. “Nothing.”

Gehrman slowly nodded his head, looking at her with a skeptical look. Turning to face the set of humongous doors that stood in front of him, he tapped the sheath of his Burial Blade. Two Solar guards walked passed Gehrman and Celestia. The two guards were both unicorns, thus they used their magic to open the doors. 

“Your majesty,” Gehrman said, turning to face her and bowing his head respectfully. “I thank you for your hospitality. If you ever require my assistance, I would be happy to help.”

Celestia bowed her head too. “It was my pleasure, Gehrman. And the same thing goes for you. If you ever need help, do not be afraid to write me a letter.”

Gehrman turned to face the doors again. Taking a deep breath, he stepped outside the doors and walked down the set of stairs that lead to the lower part of the castle’s entrance. Gehrman could see Twilight, smiling and waving at him. He awkwardly waved back at her. 

“Gehrman,” Twilight said with much enthusiasm, looking up at the First Hunter with a big smile. “Words cannot describe how happy I am right now. I can’t wait for you to meet my friends.”

Gehrman nodded. “Indeed, Ms. Sparkle.”

“Please,” Twilight giggled, punching Gehrman’s leg playfully. “Just Twilight will do.”

“If you say so, Twilight,” Gehrman replied. Looking around him and observing his surroundings, he continued. “How will we get to Ponyville?”

“Well,” Twilight said, clearing her throat. “We were going by train, but Princess Celestia said she already had a carriage waiting for us.” Twilight said, motioning to the convenient placed carriage behind her. “Hop on, Gehrman.”

“And those two will be pulling the carriage?” Gehrman asked, pointing at the pegasi guards who were standing near the carriage. 

Twilight nodded.

“May the gods have mercy upon their souls.” Gehrman sighed, walking towards the carriage, Twilight soon following. Stepping inside the carriage, Gehrman tipped his hat to the guards, who, in return, bowed their heads to him. “I hope you’re strong enough to carry us both.” He said.

“Please,” One of the guards laughed. “We’re Royal Guards. Of course we’re strong enough.”

“If you say so.” Gehrman trailed off. 

Twilight entered the carriage also. Nodding to the two guards to take off, the guards obliged and flapped their wings. They started running and running, Faster and faster. Until they were off ground and were flying higher and higher. 

Gehrman closed his eyes as he felt the warm afternoon breeze touch his face. Oh did it feel good. The sun, the wind, everything was just perfect.

“Gehrman?”

Except for that.

Opening his eyes and looking down at Twilight, Gehrman spoke up. “Yes. What is it?” he asked politely.

“I know what Princess Luna did last night. And I just want to say that she did not have any ill intentions and--.”

Gehrman held his hand up. “I know, Twilight. Princess Celestia already informed me of the situation. That is why I have decided to come with you to Ponyville, to keep a distance between me and Princess Luna.”

Twilight could only stare at him in bewilderment. “Okay,” she said, rubbing the back of her head. “So you’re still mad at her?” she asked.

Gehrman shook his head. “I am not mad at her. She had no idea I would react the way I did. But the fact that she did not ask before she acted is what angered me the most. That is why we must keep a distance between us. Perhaps one day we will meet again, and we can put this all behind us.”

Twilight smiled at him. Gehrman didn’t seem like such a bad man after all. She had her doubts about him when they first met, but it seemed that she had misjudged him. She just hoped her friends would feel the same way about him. 

Rarity would probably act normally towards him. She might even compliment him about his sense of fashion, if she liked the attire he was wearing. Pinkie Pie would have no trouble accepting him into Ponyville. Heck, she would probably throw him a huge ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party, if she found out he was coming. Fluttershy would probably be hesitant and act shy towards him. But that was her nature , and if it would confuse him, Twilight would explain the situation. Applejack would probably be the same as Rarity, as long as Gehrman didn’t lie to her. She really dislikes it when ponies lie to her. And then there was Rainbow Dash. Now that was a hard one. She would probably react a bit hesitant, thinking that he’s a monster form the Everfree, or something. Or she would react completely normal, maybe like Applejack and Rarity. 

Twilight just hoped Gehrman would react in a similar way. He seemed like a very polite man. He seemed to be completely honest when somepony asked him a question. He always addresses somepony he doesn’t know with ‘Mr.’ or ‘Ms.’, and he always had that sincere look in his eyes. In all honesty, Gehrman seemed like someone who you could befriend easily. 

But she still wondered what was going on in his head. He seemed to fear dreams and the night. But why? She could ask him, but she should probably wait until she got to know him better. She didn’t want the edge of a blade pointed at her, like Princess Luna.

“Gehrman,” Twilight said, grabbing the First Hunter’s attention. “I hope we’re going to have a blast in Ponyville.”

Gehrman smiled back at her. “I hope so too, Twilight.”

> Chapter VIII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Strong gusts of wind sliced against his face. Memories of Yharnam plagued his mind. Memories of the Old One, memories of the dream, memories of the hunters whom he had freed from the dream. It was not uncommon for a hunter to go in a state of depression, before even thinking about heading out to Yharnam. 

There was a hunter who had a different kind of view of the beasts. Djura was his name. He viewed the beasts not as beasts, but as humans. He fought against the beasts for a long time, but something changed his view on the beasts. He told Gehrman the same thing, before he finally left the dream. 

“You think we are fighting beasts?”

“Yes, good hunter. Beasts are beasts, nothing more.”

“They were once human, you know.”

“Their humanity is gone, lost in a dark void. Beasts are beasts, and they deserved to be hunted down.”

Not soon after, Djura was freed from his dream. He told Gehrman about Old Yharnam. What he was hoping to find there, Gehrman did not know. And quite frankly, he did not care.

Then there was that female hunter. Eileen was her name. She was a different kind of hunter. In the beginning, she hunted beasts. But eventually she targeted other hunters. Hunters who had lost their minds to the plague, but had not fallen to the plague of beasts... yet. She accepted Gehrman’s request of freeing her from her dream. She was old and wise, but not as old and wise as him.

“It is uncommon, but do as you must, good hunter.”

“I will, First Hunter. Thank you for your kindness and help.”

“A hunter of hunters, how exciting.”

“It is better for one to die with their humanity intact, than to turn beast.”

Freed from her dream, Eileen continued what she had started in the waking world.

And then there was that Executioner. Alfred, if he remembered correctly. A hunter of the Vilebloods. He was a peculiar one. He showed great love and compassion towards his master: Martyr Lagarius. Hunting down the last of the Vilebloods. He had quite the conversations with Gehrman, and Gehrman would always listen. He too was freed from the dream, and he didn’t even show the slightest regret. He would hunt them down, all of them.

“Your hunt is over, good hunter.”

“My hunt will not end until the last of the Vilebloods are hunted down.”

“And what if it is a child? An innocent woman?”

“Then I will make their death even more slow and painful. Vilebloods deserve to be hunted down, no matter their gender or age.”

Hunters. Male or female. Young or old. They would all die one day, and they would not wake up in their dream, but in the waking world. A world Gehrman would never see again.

Gehrman sighed as he looked at the two pegasi who were pulling the carriage. The carriage was moving at quite the speed, and he was impressed by it. Gehrman peeked his head out of the carriage, looking down at the clouds and sky below them. It was quite the sight to behold, and he was happy he could. Twilight told him they would reach Ponyville any second, and that he should probably prepare himself for some unwanted stares of confusion from everypony.

Gehrman couldn’t care less about the stares he might get. He was used to getting stares. Heck, stares of confusion were the least of his worries. He fought against beasts for crying out loud! A few stares weren’t going to bother him. 

And then he saw it. The town for last evening. Ponyville. He had finally arrived. The carriage descended towards the town. Gehrman held on to his top hat, preventing the wind from blowing it off his head. The carriage finally landed on Ponyville grounds. Gehrman and Twilight both stepped out of the carriage, thanking the two guards as they watched them take off.

Gehrman looked around him, observing every aspect of the town. There were a lot of ponies. Unicorn, pegasi, and even regular ponies. It made him smile a bit, seeing such a peaceful town. He turned to Twilight, who was currently talking to a pegasi mare. Gehrman decided to stay polite and keep his mouth shut. The mare bid her farewell and Gehrman quickly spoke up.

“What now?” he asked.

“Well,” Twilight said, tapping her chin. “Are you by any chance hungry?” she asked, smirking slightly as she looked up at him.

“I could eat something, yes,” Gehrman replied, tapping his belly. “This old man still has some spice in him.”

“Then I know just the place!” Twilight said as she motioned Gehrman to follow her. Gehrman chuckled, walking after her and putting his hands behind his back. Passing several buildings and ponies, Gehrman noticed that this town was very colorful compared to Canterlot. It kind of looked like those doll houses that children in Yharnam used to play with. 

Gehrman had a little trouble keeping up with Twilight. She had four legs, while he had one good leg and one bad leg… or foot. He didn’t pay any attention to it, though. He couldn’t complain. It was nice to walk through a town that wasn’t inhabited by beasts, or mad hunters and Yharnamites. Several ponies stopped in their tracks just to get a good look of him. Gehrman greeted everyone he passed. Whether it was by nodding his head, or saying a simple; but polite ‘Hello’. 

It was not uncommon for hunters to blend in with the crowd, even having the occasional talk. Long ago, when the plague of beasts was still young and had not spread throughout all of Yharnam, Gehrman would have the occasional conversation with an Yharnamite or two. Whether it be about family, friends, or the plague, Gehrman enjoyed the conversations he had. But still, talking and working alongside those who you trust can lead to complicated situations. The plague of beasts spares no one. Your closest friend could potentially become your most feared adversary.

Man or woman. Child or adult. The plague turned them all into beasts. Family killing family. Friends maiming friends. It was hell on Earth. Gehrman knew the feeling of losing the ones dear to you, all too well. If he could reverse time, he would have spoken out to Laurence. He would have stopped the Old Blood from reaching the surface. He would slay any Great One trying to ‘ascend’ humanity to a higher plain of existence. He would have become the hero; Yharnam needed. He would have become the hero; Yharnam needed.

But he did not. He said yes to the excursion into the old labyrinths. He self-pitied himself when the Healing Church saw no further need for his Hunter’s Workshop. Using that damned Umbilical Cord was a grave mistake. And the torment he had to endure, was the punishment he deserved. No matter how many tears he’d shed, how many sobs escaped his mouth. He knew he deserved every single tormented second of it. It was the price he had to pay… a price for his self-pity and greed. He would never forgive himself.

His acts got so many killed. So many turned beasts. Families separated, brothers and sisters devoured by beasts. Sure it was not entirely his fault, but he should have been wiser. He should have seen the potential consequences of the Old Blood. A cure for everything, they said. Did it also cure a broken heart? A broken soul?

‘Beasts are beasts, nothing more,’ Gehrman thought to himself as he and Twilight neared a—what was for him unfamiliar—bakery. ‘I wonder if any hunter would think the same, if they were to hunt down their own child.’

Twilight turned to Gehrman, smiling widely as she pointed her hoof at the bakery they were standing in front of. “May I present: Sugarcube Corner!”

Gehrman looked at the bakery in front of him. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was very colorful, and the lower and middle parts seemed to be made of normal cement, or at least he thought it was. But the roof. The roof is what confused him. It looked like something you would see on a child’s drawing. Was that whip cream on the roof and walls? And were there cherries on there too? 

Gehrman just shook his head dismissively. He did not care how it was made, he only cared about one thing: Living his live at its fullest. Both unicorn and human walked towards the entrance of Sugarcube Corner. Walking up the two set of pink colored stairs, Gehrman opened the door for Twilight.

“Ladies first,” he said, bowing his head slightly.

“I think Rarity will have no problem getting to know you,” Twilight giggled, entering the bakery. Gehrman soon followed. Eyes widening as they fixed upon the bakery’s interior, Gehrman smelled a sweet aroma enter his nostrils. By the good blood did it smell delicious. It was unlike anything he had ever smelled. 

“That’s strange,” Twilight commented, looking around the bakery. “There’s Nopony inside. Not a single soul to be seen.”

“Perhaps the owner closed his or her doors early?” Gehrman suggested, shrugging.

“Knowing Pinkie Pie, she has to be around here somewhere,” Twilight trailed off, her gaze shifting between Gehrman and the bakery. 

Suddenly and ear-deafening cry could be heard. Gehrman had no trouble pinpointing what kind of cry it was. 

It was the cry of a crying baby.

Gehrman walked as fast as he could. Walking behind the counter, he turned right and headed upstairs. Twilight had not noticed him walking away from her, until she saw him head upstairs. Her eyes widening, she quickly trotted after him.

Gehrman grabbed hold of the hilt of his Burial Blade. Crying baby’s reminded him of one thing: There was a beasts near them. Gehrman finally reached the upper level of the bakery. He now stood hallway that had several doors on each side. Gehrman listened closely to the source of the crying. He slowly walked forward, the crying becoming louder. Stopping in front of a wooden door, Gehrman pushed the door open, unsheathing his blade while doing so.  

The sight in front of him, however, was something he had not expected. There stood a pink pony, holding two smaller ponies. The smaller ones were crying, and the pink one was trying to calm them down.

“Please,” the pink one begged the two foals she had cradled in her hooves. “I’ve tried everything, so why won’t you stop crying?”

The two foals continued crying, making the pink mare sigh in defeat. Her gaze was now fixed on Gehrman. Had she not heard him entering?

“Oh, hello!” she greeted gleefully. “What are you doing in Sugarcube Corner?” she asked, her gleeful smile never disappearing.

“Are there no beasts?” Gehrman asked, sheathing his blade. Of course there were no beasts. How could he have been so stupid? If there were indeed beasts, he would have smelled them. “I am terribly sorry for all of,” Gehrman said as he motioned to the opened door. “This”

“That’s okay!” the pony replied. “My name is Pinkie Pie! What’s yours?”

“I am Gehrman,” Gehrman replied, looking down at the two foals she was holding. “Are those your children?” he asked.

Pinkie shook her head. “Nope. They’re Mr. and Ms. Cakes’ foals. I promised to foal sit them until they came back from their ‘Quest for different recipes for new sweets’”

Gehrman could not help but smile at the two foals. Holding his finger out to the pegasi foal o his right, he smiled. The foal looked at Gehrman’s finger in curiosity and moved his head closer towards the strange appendage. He opened his mouth, his lips locking themselves over Gehrman’s finger as he began nibbling on it as some kind of chew toy.

Gehrman’s smile widened a tad bit more. He even chuckled a bit at the foal’s innocent nature. Children. He did not just become a hunter to fight beasts, but also to protect children from harm. But it seemed these two did not need protection from any beasts or monsters… except for one monster.

“Tell me, children,” Gehrman spoke softly, pulling his finger out of the foal’s mouth, much to his displeasure. “Do you fear the ‘tickle monster’?”

Gehrman’s hands both moved towards the tow foals as he tickled their bellies, making the two laugh in joy. Gehrman continued tickling, much to the pleasure of not only the foals, but also the pink pony that was holding the two. After a few more seconds, Gehrman stopped and cleared his throat. Standing at his full height and almost bumping his head to the ceiling, he spoke up.

“Happy ones, aren’t they?”

Pinkie nodded, placing the two of them in their cradle. “They sure are,” she whispered, watching as the two foals slowly closed their eyes. She turned around to face Gehrman. “Thank you, Gerrie.”

“I think you misspelled my name,” Gehrman corrected. “It’s Gehrman. Not Gerrie.”

“I know what I said,” Pinkie replied, smiling brightly at him. “Oh, hey Twilight!” she whispered to her fried, who was standing in the doorway.

“Hello Pinkie,” Twilight whispered back, smiling at her friend. “I see the two of you have already met?”

“Let’s head downstairs,” Gehrman instructed, walking out of the room. “Let the children sleep. They need their rest.”

Pinkie and Twilight both nodded their heads in agreement, following Gehrman’s footsteps as they headed downstairs. Finally reaching the main level of the bakery, Twilight was the first to speak up.

“Pinkie, why did you leave the door open, when nopoy was present in the bakery?”

Pinkie’s eyes widened and she smacked her forehead. “Silly me. I forgot to lock the door when came back from Sweet Apple Acres.”

“You went to visit Applejack? Why?” Twilight asked curiously.

“I needed to get some apples to bake my delicious apple pies,” Pinkie replied, turning to Gehrman. “Would you like to try one, Gerrie?”

Before Gehrman could reply, Twilight spoke up.

“Just a cupcake will do. I need to get Gehrman to the library and then prepare an introduction for him.” Twilight replied, looking up at Gehrman. “Go ahead and eat one, but just make it quick.”

Gehrman nodded his head. Pinkie let out a squeal and (literally) dived behind the counter. Peeking her head over the counter, she held out her hoof which now held pink frosted sprinkled cupcake on it. Gehrman took the extraterrestrial food. He brought it up to his mouth and took bite. And then another. And then another. And before he knew it, the cupcake was gone.

“That was delicious,” Gehrman complemented, licking his lips. “And outstanding job, Ms. Pinkie Pie.”

“Please, call me Pinkie. All of my friends call me that.” Pinkie replied, waving her hoof in a dismissive way at him.

“We are… friends?” Gehrman asked, clearly confused.

“Sure we are!” Pinkie replied. Jumping up at him, she put her forelegs around his waist.

Gehrman could only continue to stare in confusion as the pink mare hugged him tightly. Eventually letting go of him, Pinkie looked at Twilight.

“Too bad I can’t join the two of you,” she sighed. “But somepony’s got to watch the foals.”

“A very hard, but responsible decision,” Gehrman said, tipping his hat at her. 

The duo bid their farewells to the pink party mare and left the bakery, ready to continue their trek through Ponyville. Walking down the set of pink stairs, Gehrman stretched his back and looked up at the sky.

“Twilight,” he said, pointing at the sky.

“Yes?” Twilight asked, looking up at him.

“Is it normal for a pegasi to come flying at us with incredible speed?”

“Oh not again!”




> Chapter IX
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Is it normal for a pegasi to come flying at us with incredible speed?”

“Oh not again!”

Gehrman watched as the cyan colored pegasi came flying towards him and Twilight. He could simply step aside and let the pegasi crash into the ground, but that could have an unpleasant outcome for said pegasi. Broken bones, internal bleedings, and perhaps even death. He had had enough of death. So the proud hunter decided to do the ‘honorable’ thing.

Bracing himself and stomping the ground with his peg leg, burying part of it in the ground for a better stance, Gehrman held out his arms and braced for impact. He watched as the pegasi closed in on him. This one was going to hurt, of that he was certain. 

“This,” Twilight said as her horn lit up in a purple aura, purple colored magic latching itself around the cyan pegasi. “Has to stop, Rainbow Dash.” Twilight glared at her friend, using her magic to levitate her towards her; so she would face her directly.

“Sorry,” Rainbow Dash chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her head. “I was going a little too fast, I guess.”

“A little?” Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “If it weren’t for me, you would have crashed into Gehrman and possibly hurt him. Badly.”

“Gehrman?” Rainbow Dash repeated in confusion. Turning her head sideways, her eyes fell upon the creature in question. A bipedal creature who was currently struggling to get his peg leg out of the ground, occasionally saying “By the cursed blood, curse this hand-made thing!” Rainbow Dash turned to Twilight. “What is that?” she asked, curiosity clearly present in her voice.

Twilight released Rainbow Dash from her spell, letting her fall to the ground with a small thud. Rainbow Dash quickly got up, turning her head to Gehrman. “Twilight, what is that?” she asked, never taking her eyes off Gehrman.

“That would be Gehrman,” Twilight replied, looking up at him. “To make things short, he’s an alien.”

If Rainbow Dash could explode, she would have done so already. Flying up to Gehrman’s face, she looked at him with a joyful expression. “What’s up, Gehrman?” she asked.

“Finally,” Gehrman sighed as he finally got his peg leg out of the ground. Wiggling it and making sure it was not damaged, he looked up. “Oh,” he said, smiling at Rainbow, whose face was a bit too close to his. “Hello. Are you all right?”

“Pfft, I’m fine,” Rainbow Dash replied, waving a dismissive hoof at him. “Thanks for trying to catch me, though.” She nudged his side playfully, earning a soft ‘oomph’ from him.

“It was the least I could do,” Gehrman replied, clearing his throat. Turning to Twilight, he spoke up. “Is she a friend of yours?” he asked.

Twilight nodded, before replying. “Yes she is. This is Rainbow Dash, the bearer of the Element of Loyalty.”

Gehrman turned to Rainbow, holding out his hand while doing so. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Rainbow.”

Rainbow Dash stared at the strange appendage in front of her. Not knowing what the gesture meant, she spoke up. “Nice to meet you too, Gehrman.” she replied, tapping his hand. “But if you’ll excuse me,” she said, flapping her wings. “I’ve got some work to do.”

And with that, the cyan mare took off with incredible speed. Gehrman could only watch in awe as the mare flew away from them, leaving a rainbow trail behind as she soared through the sky. 

Gehrman returned his attention to Twilight. “She seems nice,” he said, giving her a small smile. 

“She is,” Twilight smiled back. “I’m surprised she—no, everypony is taking your presence so… normally.” She said, taking occasional glances at ponies who happened to pass by.

“Is that a bad thing?” Gehrman asked.

“No,” Twilight replied. “But it’s just that we had a similar situation a few months ago. A zebra named: Zecora came to Ponyville. Everypony was frightened of her, because they didn’t know who or what she was. We thought she cursed us, thought she kidnapped Applebloom. But we were wrong. All of us were.” Twilight bowed her head in shame. “I still feel kind of bad about it, even though all is forgiven and Zecora isn’t seen as some kind of monster anymore.”

“You and your friends got the wrong view of someone,” Gehrman reassured her, making her look up at him again. “I once met a hunter. Djura was his name. He too fought against the beasts. He slayed them, maimed them, he showed them no mercy.” He sighed before continuing. “But he too had the wrong view—at least, that is what he told me.”

“And what did he view wrong?” Twilight asked.

“All beasts were once human. Djura figured this out all by himself, and when he did, he vowed never to kill a beast ever again. He believed that they were still human. Part of that is true, but when you see your beloved get maimed by beasts, you tend to forget the fact that they were once like you.”

“So beasts were once like… you?” Twilight asked.

Gehrman nodded. “Yes, but they turned into beasts because of the plague of beasts. No one truly knows where the plague originated, but what we do know is that it spares no one. Djura now resides in Old Yharnam, the ruins of a once great city. For all I know, he is still there, guarding the place. Preventing beasts from getting out, and preventing hunters from getting in.”

Even though she didn’t know what or who Gehrman was talking about, or what Old Yharnam once was, she understood what he was trying to say. Things could have ended differently for her, than they did. This Djura already made a mistake, and he tried setting that mistake straight. Secretly she hoped Gehrman would tell her a bit more about Yharnam, and even tell her bit more about Djura, if he wanted too.

“But those are just tales I heard from other hunters, who ventured into Old Yharnam.” Gehrman said, chuckling at the end. 

Twilight looked at him with a curious expression. Tales of other hunters? But she though he said that Djura prevented any hunter from entering Old Yharnam. Did that mean he failed? 

Deciding not to press on the subject, Twilight spoke up.

“The library is just a short walk from here on out,” she said. “You ready to go?”

Gehrman nodded, motioning for her to lead the way. He and Twilight continued their walk to the library, giving Gehrman the opportunity to think about a few certain things he never felt the need of thinking of, when he was still in the dream.

He wondered how some of his hunters were doing. He wondered what had become of them, after he had freed them from the dream. Alfred. Proud Alfred. Did he succeed into doing the impossible? The Vilebloods were thought to be extinct, but still he believed there was still one alive. Did he find said Vileblood? Or did he die trying? Gehrman would never know. But Alfred was a kind man, even though his part as an Executioner for Martyr Logarius sometimes blinded his visions of the real world. 

It seemed that all the Executioner thought of was making sure Logarius would become a true martyr, not even caring about his own life. Did he have a family? Did he have a wife? If so, Gehrman hoped that he stayed with them, forever.

Eileen. Oh, wise Eileen. ‘The Crow hunter’ as some called her. She was a very wise woman. She knew how to hunt beasts, but yet she made sure their deaths were quick. She was not like most hunters. Hunters who would toy with their prey, before ending their lives. Usually slow and painfully. Why she did it what she did was something no one could understand. She was one of a kind, that’s for sure.

A hunter of hunters, as she called herself. Hunting hunters for their own good… was it an act of bravery? Or was it just an excuse for no longer wanting to hunt beasts? Yeah, like hunters were an ‘easy prey’.

And then there was Djura. Sympathetic Djura. He truly was one of a kind. Every hunter had their own reasons to hate beasts, but he had his own reasons to hate hunters. Being called an utter fool by your fellow hunters, is something no one would ever want. 

Hunters. Young, old, strong, weak. They all had one thing in common. They did what they thought was right. Their ideals were what mattered to them… and if anyone were to get in their way, they would face the wrath of a thousand moons. 

But there was one hunter, one hunter Gehrman never understood. His time in the dream was short, very short. He was a hunter from a foreign land. Gehrman remembered the hunter used to talk about his wife and children, but also about the hunt, and how he despised the beasts. He was a member of the Healing Church. A Black Church hunter, to be precise. 

He had a loving wife and two daughters. 

Gascoigne. Father Gascoigne, a hunter of the Healing Church. A hunter who never showed any mercy, who never backed down for fight. But also a hunter who would keep his focus on the hunt, forgetting about the ones he loved. 

What had become of him? Had he turned beast? Had he been killed? Gehrman did not know, but he would have liked to.

“We’re here,” Twilight said, motioning at the humongous tree in front of her. “My home.” She smiled.

‘It’s that tree from yesterday,’ Gehrman thought to himself. Looking down at Twilight, he smiled at her. “A very beautiful house, Twilight.” Gehrman smiled at her, walking towards the entrance. “Shall we enter?”

“Just open the door,” Twilight replied, giggling slightly to herself. “I’m sure Spike will be very happy to meet one of his favorite fantasies.”

“I am one of his fantasies?” Gehrman asked, a skeptical expression clearly present on his face. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered, or cautious.”

Twilight shook her head, opening the door with her magic. “Let’s go. I’m sure you’ll like Spike, and I’m sure he’ll like you.”

“Very well.”





Far off into the cold mountains of the Crystal Empire, a place nopony would ever dare to come, lurked a shadow. The shadow of a once powerful king. A king who enslaved his subjects. A king who only cared about himself. A king that would one day reclaim his empire.

King Sombra, was his name.

The dark. Something we humans fear, yet we are somehow drawn towards it. The Old Blood was seen as a miracle, sent by the gods themselves. He knew this all too well. He understood what it meant to lose yourself to the thirst for blood. His wife dead and his children left behind. The only thing he could remember was the sound of a soothing tone playing, a tone that reminded him of home, of something he thought was long lost.

Father Gascoigne was many things. A hunter. A member of the Healing Church. But above all, a father who would have nothing more, than to return to his family… even if it were just for a split second.

“This will seal our deal,” Gascoigne said, cutting open the palm of his hand with his Hunters Axe. He squeezed his hand shut; tightly, watching as several drops of blood dropped in the snowy surface he was standing on. “You want your kingdom back, and I want my family back, oh Great One.”

The shadow that loomed over him chuckled grimly. “Indeed. Make sure that when I strike, the Crystal Heart is in your possession.”

Gascoigne nodded, the blood soaked bandages covering his eyes preventing anyone from seeing his beastly eyes. He then turned around and began a long, dangerous trek through the outskirts of the Crystal Empire.

The shadow of the once proud king chuckled yet again. ‘What a fool. Believing I am one of these ‘Great Ones’ he kept mentioning. I cannot believe he actually believed me when I told him I was a Great One. Only a fool would trust a stranger’s word.’ The king thought to himself, looking off into the far distance. ‘And he actually thinks I can reunite him with his family. Ha, he will be most displeased when he finds out I do not even know where he came from. It was pure coincidence that I came across his motionless body. I presumed him dead, but he was still breathing.’ The king closed his eyes, letting out a long, chilling sigh. ‘With this new pawn, victory is assured. Nopony will stand in my way.’

And with that, the shadow vanished… for now.

> Chapter X
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cold wind blew against his face. The blood soaked bandages covering his eyes did a good job, protecting his eyes from the snowstorm he was walking through. How had he arrived here? He couldn’t seem to remember. The only thing he could remember was a hunter. He remembered a Saw Cleaver… and a Hunter’s pistol. 

Had he done something terrible? He was just hunting beasts, after all. His wife and children are probably fine, enjoying the comfort of his house. He couldn’t wait to return to them. For some reason, he felt a soothing warmth run through his body, even though the temperatures outside were cold enough to kill an ordinary man. But he was no ‘ordinary man’. He was Gascoigne. Proud hunter of the Healing Church and slayer of many beasts.

But he was also a man who loved his children very much. He would sacrifice hi life for his children, he would kill for his children, and he would hunt for his children. Just to make sure they were safe. The same could be said about his wife. 

Whenever he went out to join the nightly hunt, they begged him to stay. Whenever he forgot, they played the soothing tone of his beloved music box.

“Oh, Viola,” Gascoigne said to himself, the warmth in his body suddenly disappearing. “What has become of you? Please be safe. I will return, I always do.”

Looking down at his bloodied shoes—which were stained with the blood of beasts, Yharnamites, and his own—Gascoigne let out a sigh. What good is a hunter, if he doesn’t have a place to call home anymore? 

But king Sombra, this Great One. He promised him he could return him to his family, return him to his home. When he had asked Sombra where he was, and why he was here, he did not answer. At first Gascoigne was hesitant, but when Sombra started asking him questions, that’s when Gascoigne learned the truth.

The king told him that he was a Great One, after Gascoigne had asked him if he was, and that he had lost something dear to him. Gascoigne did not know much about the Great Ones, he only knew of their existence and that the Healing Church constantly tried making contact with one. He never knew if they succeeded, though. Because he was more interested in hunting beasts. The smell of blood, the look on their faces, it all made him feel alive. The adrenaline that was being pumped through his veins when he encountered yet another beasts, was a feeling no one could describe. You’d have to feel it for yourself.

Sombra told him how he had lost his kingdom to two evil Princesses. How he was defeated and that his physical body was gone, and he was left a shadow, wandering the outskirts of the Crystal Empire. Gascoigne never got along with royalty. He despised of them. They sat upon their thrones, giving orders and sending dozens of hunter’s into their deaths, while they watched from a safe distance, drinking and eating the night away.

Gascoigne listened to the king’s story, taking in every bit of information he saw as important. When the king had finished his story, he asked a question that Gascoigne had not expected.

He asked for help. Specifically, help to retrieve an item. The Crystal Heart.

Gascoigne declined his offer at first, stating that he needed to head home, that his wife and daughters were waiting for him to get home. King Sombra was not too happy about him declining his offer, and roared at him that he would never see his wife and daughters again, did he not help him.

Gascoigne first took this as a threat, saying that he should find another hunter to do his dirty work. He told him that the night would end soon, and that Yharnam would once again see daylight.

When he mentioned Yharnam, however, king Sombra began laughing manically.

“Now I get it!” the king laughed, looking down at Gascoigne as his shadowy form hovered above him. “Do you even know where you are?”

Gascoigne shook his head. “Probably somewhere far away from Yharnam,” he replied, walking away from him. “I will find my way back. I always do.”

“I think that you are nowhere near this ‘Yharnam’ you talk of,” Sombra’s voice echoed through the frigid outskirts of the Crystal Empire. “You will never see your family again.” 

Gascoigne stopped dead in his tracks, turning his head. “Silence yourself, before I do.” He threatened.

“Your beloved daughters… dead.” Sombra whispered into his ear, his shadow form latching itself around Gascoigne. “Your beloved wife is probably dead, too.”

“They are not,” Gascoigne retorted, shaking his head furiously. “They are not dead! The beasts will not get to them!”

“Help me, and I will make sure they are all right. Help me, and I will take you to them. Help me, and you will see… Viola again.” Sombra whispered into his ear, chanting the same three lines over and over again.

Gascoigne tried to walk away, but he couldn’t find the strength. He wanted to forget about everything. But he could not forget. He had to remember. He HAD to!

“I will see them again?” Gascoigne asked.

Sombra chuckled grimly as he loosened his grip around Gascoigne. Hovering above him once again, the humongous shadow spoke up. “Yes,” Sombra replied. 

Gascoigne looked down at his hand. Grabbing hold of his Hunters Axe, he looked up at the king once more. “I will help you, if you help me.” He said, cutting open the palm of his hand. “This will seal our deal…”

And so, the hunter began his new mission to find the heart and return it to its original owner. What happened afterwards; he couldn’t care less about. His family is what mattered, nothing else.

King Sombra watched as he saw Gascoigne disappear into the far distance, the heavy snowstorm blocking the king’s sight, preventing him from seeing his pawn. Sighing to himself as he turned around, he took a glance at an object he was holding with his magic. An object which he would use to his advantage, should Gascoigne think to betray him. He would have never known the name of his wife, were it not for this Tiny Music Box.





Gehrman and Twilight entered the library. Closing the door behind them, Twilight called out to her assistant. After a brief moment of silence, she could hear her assistant running downstairs.

“I’m coming, Twilight!” Spike called out to her.

Finally reaching the library, Spike smiled at her. “Hey Twilight,” he said. His eyes widened when he saw the humongous creature standing beside her. Blinking several times to see if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, Spike looked at Twilight. “What is that thing Twilight?” he asked, pointing his claw at Gehrman.

“Spike, meet Gehrman. Gehrman, meet Spike.” Twilight introduced the two.

Spike eyed Gehrman curiously. “Gehrman,” he repeated, taking a few steps forward. “Is he a new friend of yours?” he asked, looking at Twilight.

“Yes,” Twilight replied, smiling at her assistant. “We’ve recently met. But he’s a friend that I can assure you.”

Spike nodded his head, looking up at Gehrman. “How are you doing?”

“I am doing rather well,” Gehrman replied, looking down at him. “It is nice to meet you, Spike.”

Spike couldn’t help but smile at him. ‘Seems like a nice guy,’ he thought to himself.

Gehrman was about to say something, until the sound of a hoof knocking on a wooden door prevented him from doing so. Both human, pony and dragon turned their heads to the library’s entrance. 

“Oh,” Twilight said, walking towards the door and opening it. “I wonder who that could be.”

She opened the door and was met by a pink blur flying passed her, followed by a cyan blur. Shaking her head furiously, Twilight closed the door, only for it to be blocked by an orange hoof. 

“Well ah’ll be Pinkie, ya were right about his height. He’s a tall fella, I’ll give him that!”

“Darling, please step aside so I can get a better look at him.”

“I’d like to get a better look too, if that’s okay with you.”

“Twilight,” Gehrman said, looking at the three ponies who stood in the doorway. “Friends of yours?”

"

> Chapter XI
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle was both happy and unsure of what to think of her friends, barging into her house. She had expected things to go wrong from here on out. But to her surprise, the introductions went smoothly. Gehrman all greeted them, and they did the same. The fact that Fluttershy was a bit less hesitant than she usually was, was saying something. Applejack asked him questions about his origins. Rarity asked him about his sense of fashion since (in her opinion) the top hat really matched with his clothes. Pinkie didn’t really ask him anything, only if he’d like another cupcake. Rainbow Dash was a bit more courageous with her questions, asking him how he lost his foot. 

And Spike? Well, let’s just say he was more interested in the thing Gehrman had attached to his back.

“So Yharnam is yer home?” Applejack asked, looking up at Gehrman.

“Yes it is,” Gehrman replied, looking down at the Stetson mare. “And to answer your question, Rainbow Dash,” he said turning to her. “We don’t have these ‘lasers’ you keep mentioning in your question.”

“Well that’s a bit of a disappointment.” Rainbow Dash huffed.

“Darling I must ask,” Rarity spoke up, inspecting Gehrman’s hunter’s attire carefully. “Does everypony has such a good sense of fashion, as yourself?”

Gehrman shrugged. He rubbed his back. It was aching, and it was aching badly. He was used to sit in his wheelchair, only getting up if he needed to. And when he needed to, he would usually have his Burial Blade in one hand, and his Blunderbuss in the other.

“I have no sense of fashion, Rarity,” Gehrman replied, looking down at his attire. “But this is what protected me from the beasts. I could be fast and agile, while having a sturdy defense to back me up.”

“Beasts?” Rarity repeated in confusion. “What beasts are you talking about?”

Before Gehrman could reply to her question, Twilight answered it for him. “From what he has told me,” she spoke up. “Beasts were once human, like him. But because of a plague, they turned into beasts.”

Rarity turned her head to Gehrman. “They turned into beasts, why?” she asked, curiosity clearly present in her voice.

Gehrman let out a sigh. This was bound to happen sometime. He had explained it to so many hunters who visited the dream. The plague of beasts, the Old Blood, the Healing Church. All of it. He was actually getting sick and tired talking about it, but he knew if he didn’t give them an explanation now, their questions would never stop.

Walking over to a nearby table, Gehrman grabbed hold of a chair and sat down on it. The chair could barely hold the First Hunter’s weight. Gehrman ignored the cracks and spoke up.

“Listen carefully, young ones,” he spoke up, his voice getting a little stern. “This is a subject I would rather forget. But you have all treated me with respect, so giving you all an explanation of what the beasts are, how they spread through Yharnam, and how we hunters were there to stop them, is the least I can do.”

“I got front line!” Spike exclaimed, running over to Gehrman and sitting down in front of him. The rest soon followed, all of them grabbing a chair and sitting down at the table.

Gehrman cleared his throat. “A long time ago, when Yharnam was small and less populated, there was man. I lived in Yharnam with my family, my friends lived there too. There are two men who I should mention. Master Willem, and Laurence. Master Willem was a ‘teacher’, and Laurence was one of his most prized scholars. They were an unbreakable team, never leaving each other’s side. Master Willem had many scholars, at his school in Byrgenwerth.”

“So he was a teacher,” Twilight said, smiling to herself. “He must know a lot.”

Gehrman nodded, but continued his story. “But time passed, and scholars went on several expeditions. One of these expeditions turned out to be a major success. You see, underneath Yharnam there exists a great; ancient labyrinth, were once two races lived among each other in harmony. One of these races were the Pthumerian. An ancient race similar to us humans. And then there were the Great Ones.”

“Great Ones?” Rainbow Dash repeated in confusion. “What’s so ‘great’ about them?”

“I will get to that later,” Gehrman replied, rubbing his temples. “The scholars of Byrgenwerth went into the Old Labyrinths and found something. Something so rare and so powerful, that it was uncertain if this was the work of a god. They had found: The Old Blood.”

“Sounds disgusting.” Rarity commented, shaking her head in disgust.

Gehrman shook his head. If only she knew. “The Old Blood was seen as a cure. For it was. The blood cured any disease, even if the disease itself was deemed untreatable, the Old Blood would treat it, and annihilate it.” Letting out a sigh once again, Gehrman closed his eyes. This was the part where it was going to get tricky. He did not remember a lot about the Healing Church. He only remembered the Choir, the School of Mensis, and the Healing Church itself. “Everyone had different opinions about the Old Blood. Master Willem stated that the use of the Old Blood was unnecessary, and that humanity could be lifted into a higher existence by knowledge. Laurence thought otherwise. He thought that the Old Blood would ascend humanity into a higher existence, rather than to gain more knowledge.”

“What happened next?” Twilight asked.

“Ideals clashed,” Gehrman sighed. “And their friendship was no more.”

“That’s just silly,” Pinkie commented. “Just because you didn’t like other’s opinions doesn’t mean you can’t be friends anymore. That’s just wrong.”

“I do not know how friendship works in this world, dear Pinkie,” Gehrman said, looking at her. “But in Yharnam, friendship doesn’t last forever.”

“But friendship is what makes living such a wonderful thing!” Twilight retorted as she looked to all of her friends. “It’s what makes you happy! It’s the most powerful magic in the world!”

“Believe me, Twilight. The Old Blood is far more powerful than you think.” Gehrman retorted. “So Master Willem and Laurence both parted ways. Laurence went on to found the Healing Church, who used the Old Blood to their advantage. They gave it away freely to the men, woman and children of Yharnam. And of course they all accepted. I mean, if a church were to be founded here in Ponyville, and had access to a substance that could cure any illness… what fool would not visit to see it for themselves, and perhaps even be treated by said church.”

“I wouldn’t,” Rainbow Dash replied, smirking. “I’m way too awesome to get sick.”

“Everything went smooth at first. People from all over the land came to Yharnam to be treated with the Old Blood. The church was worshipped, and they continued their work. That was, until the plague of beasts arrived. It was strange at first. When the first beast had been found, and killed, no one knew where it came from. No one even knew it was human before. But then there started appearing more and more beasts. Some even more dreadful, than others. Many people had their lives taken by the beasts. And eventually, the church was out of options. And that’s when I came into play.” Gehrman said, mentally patting himself on his shoulder. Sure he was partly responsible for a lot of bad things that happened in the past, but he still killed more beasts than any hunter had.

“You came into play?” Rainbow Dash asked, curiosity filling her voice. “This might get interesting.”

“I was tasked by Laurence and his Healing Church to halter the spread of beasts. I founded the Hunter’s Workshop and created the trick weapons that many hunters used during the hunt for beasts.” He said, tapping his sheathed Burial Blade. “My blade was the first. There came more, soon after. Within months we had grown into a powerful subsection of the church. We hunted the beasts every night. Assuring the safety of the townsfolk. But we had to stay a secret, for some people thought the Old Blood caused the beastly scourge. So we did. We hunted under the cover of night, cleansing the streets of the beasts.”

“But we couldn’t stay a secret forever. A new disease appeared in what would come to be called Old Yharnam. The Ashen Blood. It spread the beastly scourge through the old city… so we were left no choice. We had to burn it down, and the hunt became known to all. Old Yharnam was sealed away, no one was allowed to enter it anymore. And my once proud workshop was disbanded, and was soon replaced by the Church Hunter Workshop. A hunter named: Ludwig became their chief hunter, and the church locked themselves away in a place called: Cathedral Ward.”

This time, it was Applejack who spoke up. “So because tha church couldn’t handle these beasts, they locked themselves away and just let it happen?”

“No,” Gehrman replied. “The church’s hunters had on job. Make sure that any sign of the beastly scourge is destroyed. If a church hunter deemed you sick, you would be killed. And by sick, I mean if you were to turn into a beast. But Ludwig, the chief hunter of the church, once recruited Yharnamites as church hunters.”

“Why would he do that?” Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The townsfolk once blamed the church for the scourge of the beast. But his move was actually pretty clever. He recruited the populous, and they probably stopped blaming the church for the beasts. And so, the populous and the church hunters worked together… but remember, the townsfolk could still be infected by the plague of beast. And if a church hunter noticed any signs of them having been infected with the sickness, then that hunt would become their last one.” Gehrman stopped, catching his breath and thinking of what he should tell them next. Should he tell them of the Great Ones? 

No, he should not. He could not. What if one of them were to make contact with a Great One? He wasn’t sure if they could, but that was the same thought he had himself, when he made contact with one. He still regretted that decision.

“This is all I will tell you, for now.” Gehrman said, putting his arms on the table and resting his head on them. 

“But I-I have so many questions!” Twilight exclaimed. “What was it that Laurence saw in the Old Blood? Why did Willem just not dispose of the Old Blood? What became of Ludwig? What was your part in all of this?”

At that last question, Gehrman’s head shot up. He glared at her. He was actually glaring at her. “My part?” He repeated, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white. “Just know that I made a grave mistake. The beastly scourge has not come to an end, yet. There is still no cure for it. And I lost absolutely everything that I once held dear!” Gehrman shouted at Twilight, making her flinch and fall back into her chair from embarrassment.

“S-Sorry,” Twilight apologized. “I still don’t understand a lot, but I can kind of see the big picture. The beasts are bad news. The Old Blood is bad news. And The Healing Church is bad news, too.”

Gehrman said nothing.

Twilight but her lower lip in thought. Closing her eyes and letting out a hum, she thought of an idea that might distract Gehrman from bringing up some unpleasant memories. 

“How about,” Twilight said, taking quick glances at her friends. “I tell you of some of Equestria’s history.”

Gehrman looked at her and slowly nodded his head in agreement. “That would be… nice,” he gave her a small, but sincere smile. 

“Alright!” Twilight beamed with much joy. “So it all began when…”





When the hunter meets a beasts, blood is surely to be shed. When a pistol is fired, it will need to be reloaded. And when a trick weapon finds its target, it usually kills it.

Gascoigne’s body felt frozen, but he needed to press on. He was feeling tired, but he needed to press on. His wife and daughters counted on him. Oh, he could already smell the mashed potatoes and pork his wife used to bake for them. He remembered inviting Henryk over for dinner once. He also remembered how his youngest daughter took his hunters cap and played with it. Oh did he have a hard time catching her.

Gascoigne and Henryk. Two hunters with the same passion. One of them old, one of the younger. It did not matter to them. They just wanted to hunt. They wanted to protect. They wanted to serve. ‘Let ye take part in communion.’

It was at this moment Gascoigne knew there was no point of return. He needed to reach the Crystal Empire as fast as possible. He needed to retrieve the Crystal Heart. And if anyone dared to stand in his way, they would become just another one of his victims.

Even if that ‘anyone’ were a Princess.


> Chapter XII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Love can be such a pleasant thing. Even if the nightly hunt was long and tiresome, hunters always had someone to return to. Many hunters had a wife, or someone else they could cherish. It’s what kept them sane. It’s what helped them get through the night. It’s what they needed.

Nights were known to be long, but they eventually ended; one way or another. However, very soon the moon rose anew full and bright, causing not just beasts to rise, but causing all of Yharnam to go mad. The hunt was something to be feared by many. It was not something that anyone could just ‘partake in’, even if the Vicars said so. Hunters trained to be  hunters should hunt beasts. Yharnamites were no hunters, they were just normal townsfolk. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into. ‘Let us partake in communion.’ What a bunch of nonsense.

The night had already begun, thus meaning the hunt would be on very soon. Many hunter already went out to hunt. Eileen. Djura. Alfred. All of them were hunters, so too should hunt. Families had to be protected, the streets had to be cleansed, and blood had to be spilled. Beast blood, that is.

A hunter of the Healing Church 

Gascoigne had never seen such a night as this, or a moon so close. He watched from a safe vantage point as people set fire to beasts; crucifying them on beams of wood as the pale embers sung through their flesh. The townspeople, so far gone, now attacked hunters, believing them to be the cause of this unstoppable disease, labelling them a curse. What fools. Hunters did the rightful thing, protecting and serving. Upholding the law. Even if that law meant that the hunt had now become a survival of the fittest

But Gascoigne knew differently. Blood – healing blood that supposedly cured all illnesses– came from the Healing Church. It was the ministers and its founders that knew of this curse, yet did little as the people in Yharnam died. Gascoigne had tried to expose the truth, but it had been too late, and so he had left them to protect his family.

There were no humans left. And he himself had taken the blood like everyone else. It was only a matter of time until he himself started showing signs of the beast. An aching head, chest pains, stomach aches. All of these signs meant one thing: Thou art beasts, and thou must be cleansed from thine illness. The Black Church and White Church hunters. Some of them still wandered the streets of Yharnam… while the bodies of many fallen hunters painted the upper levels of Cathedral Ward. 

The rally of hunters that came to purge the streets of beast every night were impossibly rare. Most were now corrupted, choosing to live like beasts, or even siding with them completely. Others had left Yharnam to undertake that long journey into the wild, hoping to find a better world. No doubt they would carry the rancid sickness with them.

And so the death toll started rising. Mourners came and built statues to honor the dead. Bodies filled the church's grave and soon there were so much death that coffins were left on the streets, some padlocked to keep the beast-carcass within. For superstition grew as much as did fear. People blamed almost anything on this plague, but hardly anyone took note of the blood they injected into themselves to stave off illness and injury. Blaming the higher cause for their own misdeeds. The Church was doing the rightful thing here. How could anyone have known that things got out of hand so fast? Did the townsfolk think that the church wanted this to happen? That many of its own members were slaughtered? Their throats either cut open or their bodies maimed by beasts?

Ludwig of the Healing Church tried to purge the scourge of beasts himself; by rallying the Yharnam people. But that quickly failed. Man was easy prey, and many locked themselves away, only to turn slowly mad while the others outside turned beast to further ignite the conflict. Many brave Yharnamites tried fighting them. They tried. But eventually all failed.

The fall of Ludwig's sanity and humanity was perhaps the greatest catastrophe Gascoigne had had in a while. Those close to the church turned into hideous things as they all partook in the richest blood. But was it really the richest? Blood is blood, nothing more. The Old Blood might have been different, but it too was just blood. 

Gascoigne remembered that long ago, when the blood was still young, Vicars would argue amongst each other who could take the most pure blood. The blood of the gods. Blood is just blood. Nothing more, nothing less.

The streets were curdled into restless moaning as the Yharnam people sought bloodlust, half forgetting what they were meant to do; so half-turned were they by the blood they took. And so Gascoigne started what Ludwig had left half finished.

He leapt from his safe spot and spilled down into the musty streets where coffins stood up against rails and where crows sucked down on contaminated corpses. Absolutely disgusting. Crows. Regular crows turning into to these obese creatures, not even capable of flying for ten seconds before falling to the ground again. The blood was a thing to be feared, and the crows were a prime example.

It wasn't long before dingy eyes full of disease spotted him. “Foul beast!” A Yharnamite, holding a cutlass exclaimed.

Gascoigne knew them all once upon a time when they were human, and the streets were clean and cluttered by busy horse and carriage. Now to him they were nothing but hellish half monsters, desperately seeking redemption.

He brought his axe down on the Yharnamite’s skull, splitting it in half as he felt the force go up his arm. Blood slapped onto his cape and sleeves, but it didn't bother him.

Someone else was coming up behind him. He sprung around with incredible speed that could match a beast, and brought his axe down onto the Yharnamite’s shoulder, severing the aorta, preventing any more wretched blood to flow into his heart.

“Gascoigne.” Said an old voice he knew well.

Snarling at being disturbed, he gazed upwards, the brightness of the moon skewering his sight. Eileen sat on the perch he had not long ago left to deal with these blood curdling townspeople. Her feathery cape trailed about her like darkness, and her beak mask stared down at him, revealing nothing of her intentions, or his emotions. Gascoigne had known her since he had entered the Healing Church. Even then she had been a skilled and (sometimes) caring hunter; capable of slaughtering beasts that other hunters were no match for. But she was getting old. Sooner or later she would fall into a grave of her own.

“What can I do you for? Eileen?” Gascoigne asked rather politely.

The crow mask stared him. “Don't let it all go to your head. It's just a job. Nothing more.” She warned.

“A job? You take it this lightly? Families must be protected! The streets must be cleansed!” Gascoigne exclaimed in anger, the grip around his axe tightening. Just a job? What the hell was she talking about? Beasts were no laughing matter, they never were. “You are getting old, Eileen. It is blurring your vision and reasoning.”

She seemed to ruffle the feathers about her cloak as she stood up. “My family is dead, Gascoigne. But even so, I try not to take it personally. Sooner or later this frenzy of yours will be your downfall.” She warned him again. He hated it when she did that.

“Isolation and fighting unaided will be your downfall, Eileen.” Gascoigne retorted. 

“And you? I suppose you find it heroic? To wipe the townsfolk aside with so much hatred inside you? I don't want to lose you, but your hatred and bitterness is very profound. You should return to your family. Cherish them.” Eileen said, shuffling her feathers.

“We are hunters, Eileen. We do not shirk. I'm going to head on now. Doing my work.”

He didn't look at her again as he headed on, the axe head resting on his shoulder as he walked through the blood of his slayed corpses.

He wanted to move on. He wanted to get through Cathedral Ward and get to the heart of the nightmare just as Eileen did. But the Cleric Beast had scored a lucky blow against him. It wasn't much, and it would hopefully heal in time, but the wound went deep into his side. The only way round was going to the other side of town, where the sewers were. There he'd find Oedon Grave, and a little beyond that, Oedon Chapel. It meant leaving his family. But to truly save them, he had to stop this disease before it took them too.

If he lost his family, he would truly go mad.

Perhaps Eileen was right. Perhaps he was too obsessed with the hunt. Even when he got home, it was all he could think about, all he cared about. Trained hunters were often left with this curse; to fight and fight until they were exhausted. So his family would play the musical box for him, to help him remember. And he'd walk through his ugly obsession and be the father they needed. 

It was hard to count the days and keep track of time when it was never daylight.

Gascoigne had reached Oedon, and the grave was as messy as he remembered it. Bodies had been buried on top of bodies in the earlier days of the plague when there had been more hunters. Now this place was eerie, dark and haunted. The great marker in the center stood tall and somehow noble in a place of visceral death.

He had come here in the hopes of finding a way around the gate blocking him to the Cathedral Ward, and in a way he was avoiding another bite from Ludwig: now a beast himself. The wound hurt deep and he knew he would not return to his family again. He would leave Yharnam but first he had to rest. He felt dizzy, and often more than ever he felt great blood urges that even the vials could not sedate. The stench of Yharnam was sickening.

He wondered for a brief moment whatever happened to Vicar Amelia. For all he knew, she was still inside the Great Cathedral, praying to the skull of Master Laurence. He remembered her prayers, because she once visited his home. She played with the children, and when they were asleep, she would talk to Gascoigne and Viola about—well, she mostly talked with Viola. Mostly girly talks about hair and all that bollock.

Of course that was when there were no beast. But there are now, and the good Vicar prayed for everyone.

“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.

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.

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 it not for fear, death would go unlamented.”

Fear the Old Blood. Master Laurence once told him that.

As he explored the grave, he smelt blood. A young Yharnam man, turned by the plague, was feasting on a corpse. Hatred raged within him, and he clubbed him to death with his axe. Each hack of the blade gave him pleasure and disgust combined. Meat sprayed in every direction, and the coppery stench flayed into his hair and face. But the bandages there stopped the spray from getting into his eyes.

“Umbasa.” He ruminated quietly at the bloodied pieces.

Perhaps he had stayed there too long as he wandered about the gravestones, reminiscing about blood. The wound only festered until it made him impatient and short-sighted. Stray creatures came, and he tore into them with his axe, thinking of his failure in the shadow of Ludwig as he hacked into flesh, turning their limbs into chunks.

“Gascoigne! No!” The voice was too soft, too silky to belong.

He looked up through the thick bandaging masking his sight to see her running across a corpse-ridden grave. On her chest was that red brooch that he had given her one birthday many nights ago.

That brooch. That damned brooch. 

He stood over the latest abomination he had killed, relishing the scent of its spilled blood. It gave him adrenaline. It owned him. Ruled him. He was fueled by the blood, manipulated by the blood, savaged by the blood. There would be no turning back now. Not for him.

He turned to Viola slowly, hate and madness in his dark eyes.

She stood at a distance, dragging herself to a halt from her once-fierce run here. The bottom of her dress was dirty with sludge and blood. She had come all the way from the stinking streets and through the sewers for him. Now she stood uncertainly, unsure. He did not look as she remembered him.

He snorted at her, and readied the axe.

“Gascoigne!” Her voice, cool and fragile in the mist, came to him, helping him clear his insatiable mind from his blood frenzy. “Come home! Look at what the hunt is doing to you! You'll go mad! Your girls miss you!”

“What are you doing here, woman? This is no place for you! Go home!” he shouted to her, waving his axe at her.

“Not without you! We'll endure this terror together! You're coming home!” she retorted, her hand grasping around her Red Jeweled brooch.

“Home? Not while I have beasts to slay!”

“You're half mad with the hunt! Come with me! Think of your family!” his wife exclaimed in utter fear and desperation, trying to get her beloved husband to return home. Viola was out of options. He could not be reasoned with. Talking to him was no use.

Viola looked behind him, and saw creatures unfold from the mist.

The grave, he found too late, was a gathering ground for half-turned Yharnamites as they travelled from their chaotic town to revel in the musk of the dead. They came in their burbling herds with their tools and rusty weapons. Gascoigne knew the drill. He had killed dozens all in one sitting, but he had always been alone, with no one to protect or to distract him.

“Run!” He growled at her. “Get out of here, woman!”

Viola saw that her retreat was blocked by shuffling townspeople, townspeople who were quick when they scented prey. So she took off for the long stairs leading up to Oedon Chapel. But she was not as quick. And Gascoigne overestimated his own abilities. Inflected with the wound, Gascoigne could not topple them as quickly as he thought he could. And he saw her run into two Yharnamites. With his elongated trick-axe he pushed back the group who sneered and wailed on him, and the blade cut through their chests, opening up ribs.

Just as he cleared them, cursing and shouting, he sprinted after her. Viola was brought down by claws and teeth as she tried to escape them. Gascoigne hurtled into them, clipping them back with his weapon and blowing two away with his blunderbuss. He grabbed her and bore her easily, running up the stairs and along the paving along the high railing. From there he jumped down onto the roof to get away, only to be followed by more abominations.

Hot with rage and hate, he hacked them back, but they were strong in numbers. He wondered if this was what Eileen was warning him about, and figured in the same instant that it was too late to dwell on it now.

All men were beasts. And if they were still sane, it was only a matter of time until they too became something they were never supposed to be. Hunters were easily corrupted by this evil. And in time, even they would be unrecognizable under the guise of the beast.

Leaving Viola dying on the rooftop, he jumped down and started hacking away at the last survivor, his blade hot with death. His arm, heavy with exertion, kept bringing his weapon down until he severed the neck from the torso. The Grave was riddled with his carnage. He would slaughter them all. Wipe them out, all of them.

His wife’s killer was dead, his body dismembered and his blood splattered over the many tombstones and ground. His nose was filled with the filthy stench of blood, and yet, there was a smell he recognized. A smell he had smelled many times before.

It was the smell of another hunter.

Gazing down at the lifeless body of his wife’s killer, he breathed, “...Beasts all over the shop... You'll be one of them, sooner or later...”

Viola raised her head. Blood was oozing out of her wounds, the wound on her back being her number one problem. She peeked her eyes as she watched her husband run towards an unfamiliar figure. What had she done? Her children, they were all alone now. Their father completely mad with the hunt. Obsessed with slaughtering the guilty and innocent. This wasn’t the man she married so long ago. That man died when he returned from his first hunt.

“Agrus Bertadinus Gascoigne, wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Gascoigne looked at his bride. She looked stunning. Her dress, her body, her tits face. Everything about her was beautiful.

“I will,” Gascoigne replied, looking at his wife and smiling at her.

The minister turned to Viola. “Viola, Wilt thou have this Man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

Viola smiled at her husband, her cheeks reddening. “I will,”

“Who giveth this Woman to be married to this Man?” The minister asked.

“I do,” said a man in his mid-fifties. Taking his daughter by hand and handing her over to the priest, he looked at Gascoigne. “Take good care of her, lass.”

Gascoigne nodded.

The minister could not help but smile at the young couple, before he spoke up. “ I, Agrus, take thee Viola to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ‘till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

Gascoigne repeated the sentence.

Viola took Gascoigne’s right hand with her right hand, smiling brightly at him. She didn’t care about the warmth she was feeling on her cheeks. She was happy. Happy that she could finally be with the man she loved so very much. “I Viola take thee Gascoigne to be my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

Gascoigne held out the ring he had spent so much money on. Happy it could finally be on his—soon to be wife’ finger. Sliding it around her ring finger, he smiled.

“WITH this Ring I thee wed: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” The priest spoke in a regal, yet soothing tone.

And, before delivering the Ring to the Man, the Minister spoke up once again; “BLESS, O Lord, this Ring, that he who gives it and she who wears it may abide in thy peace, and continue in they favor, unto their life's end; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Gascoigne, leaving the Ring upon the fourth finger of his wife’s left hand, smiled even brighter.

“Let us pray.”

Her vision became blurry. She was cold, oh so cold. She wanted to rest. To go to sleep. She wanted to go home. “Gascoigne,” Viola whispered, her voice light and pitchy. “I loved you always, I always will.”

And with that, she closed her eyes, never for them to be reopened.





Gascoigne kept walking through the Crystal outskirts. His back was starting to ache and his vision started to get blurry. Perhaps if removed the bandages covering his eyes, would he be able to see more clearly. No, he couldn’t. If he did that, the amount of insight he had gained would make him see horrible, sickening things. He remembered, long ago, when the hunt was still young, that hunters who had slayed many beasts started ‘seeing things’. Things that other hunters could not. It didn’t come as a surprise that those hunters were the first to lose their sanity and humanity.

Gascoigne wondered how his wife and daughters were doing. He remembered that beautiful white ribbon his younger daughter used to wear. He wondered if they were playing that silly game of hide and tag, in which he used to partake. Every night he’d let his daughters pray to the church, to the good blood. Henryk. He really wondered how he was doing. The only thing that really kept him going was Gascoigne. Henryk’s family had already been slaughtered. Some of them by hunters, others by beasts.

When his own daughter was taken from him, he went on a rampage. He hunted and slaughtered. Killed and bathed in the blood of beasts. His Saw Cleaver became a thing to be feared. Even the church had doubts about him. Henryk turning beast? No, that would never happen. If there is anyone who can resist the beast within him, it’s Henryk. He would never become one of them. He would never lose his sanity and go mad. He would never betray the church, by turning into a wretched beast.

Henryk visited the grave of his daughter every day, before he would go out and hunt. His daughter, take from him. No parent should have to bury their own child.

Gascoigne felt the heat rising to his head. He needed to return, for Henryk. For his family. For other hunters. Looking up at the snow-blocked sky, Gascoigne roared. He roared because he needed to. He roared because that is what he always did. He roared… because in the far distance, a kingdom could be seen.

“Hide your woman and children,” he roared. “The hunt is on tonight!”

> Chapter XIII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a strange couple of hours for Gehrman. He had not expected that word of his arrival had spread so quickly. Pinkie Pie had taken a liking into him, telling him she’d be throwing him a big ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party once she had made the proper arrangements—which wouldn’t take too long, according to her. 

Gehrman was surprised at first, not knowing what to think of such an act of hospitality. A party, and it wasn’t even for a special event. Arriving in a town isn’t such a special or uncommon thing… well, he was the only human in Equestria, so that probably made his arrival something special. 

Twilight had told him he could sleep in her bed; if he wanted to. Gehrman respectfully declined her generous offer, telling her that he’d rather fall asleep on a chair; than to take the bed of someone else. Even if it was with her permission. Besides, Gehrman had grown accustomed to sleeping in a chair. He really missed his wheelchair. It was something he made all by himself, along with the Doll and many other things. His Burial Blade was a fine example of his skills. The finest trick weapon ever to be made, as he once told a hunter who had recently entered the dream.

But soon the fun had come to an end. The five mares who had visited the library left, saying their farewells to Gehrman. He had no idea why everyone was acting so polite to him. Back in Yharnam, a simple ‘hello’ or ‘good evening’ would have been enough. But here everything just seemed a bit too friendly. Perhaps to with the Magic of Friendship, or the Elements of Harmony; which Twilight had told him about.

Six elements for six chosen ponies. What power they must hold within them. But even so, the Magic of Friendship could never outmatch a Great One, or a fully transformed beast. Only a hunter could accomplish that, by cutting them to pieces and bathing in their blood. Friendship is a powerful thing, but a weapon will hurt a bit more, than friendship.

It was now late at night, and Twilight was about to head for bed, along with Spike.

“Are you sure you’re alright, sleeping in a chair?” Twilight asked for the second time.

“Yes,” Gehrman replied, taking off his top hat and letting his shoulder length white hair roam freely. “I am used to it. Please go to bed.”

“You’re not my dad.” Twilight joked.

“But I am your elder, am I not?” Gehrman retorted, grinning slightly.

“Well… judging by how wise your words are, the way you talk, and the way your voice sounds. I’d say you are indeed my elder,” Twilight replied, showing him her grin. “But still, not my dad.”

“Goodnight, Twilight.” Gehrman smiled.

Twilight smiled back at him. Walking upstairs with Spike soon following her, she reached her bedroom door and entered her room. Gehrman could hear the door close. Sighing to himself as he took a seat on a nearby chair, Gehrman placed his top hat on the table. Folding his hands, he looked at his top hat.

“I used to wear this dusty old thing for ceremonies,” he whispered to himself. “Now it’s just a reminder of my greed. Greed that destroyed Yharnam, and perhaps, the world.”

Free from the dream, the First Hunter still worried about the future of Yharnam. The future of mankind. What would become of Yharnam, should the plague be haltered? Would everything go back the way it should? Or would the Yharnam become a distant memory of a long, forgotten land? The Healing Church—or rather its surviving members would probably leave Yharnam, if they had the chance. The Great Ones would still watch over humanity, and answer the calls of one foolish enough to make contact with them.

The time he spent in the dream made him realize a few things. Humanity wasn’t as pure as it thought it was. Greed will ultimately consume one human being. That greed will spread. It’s like a number it begins with zero. Zero will eventually become one. One will become ten. And ten will eventually become one hundred. In the past, the hunters of old tried taking it back to zero… but zero would eventually become one again. So their goal, the goal of all hunters who wanted to cleans the world of the plague of beats, was to erase zero. 

But things didn’t turn out the way they should. Master Willem made contact with a Great One. the School of Mensis made contact with a Great One. and even the once proud First Hunter made contact with a Great One. all of them had different goals and ideals, but in the end they were all the same. Fools. Idiots. Greedy bastards. Wanting to accomplish their own goals, stating that it’s ‘for the human race’. The Great Ones might be sympathetic in spirit, but they too had their own goals.

The Moon Presence was a prime example of that. Gehrman could not remember what happened afterwards, when the Moon Presence answered his call for help. But if he could, he’d probably want to forget all about it, soon after. Gehrman might have been a proud hunter and a skilled warrior, but he too grew old. The Healing Church should have never given up on his Hunter’s Workshop. He had the finest materials! He created the finest weapons! He… would have become the hero that Yharnam needed. But that position was taken from him by the Healing Church workshop, and their chief hunter: Ludwig.

That damned Ludwig. He told Gehrman that he would always look up at him, since he was the reason he became a church hunter. Perhaps his memory was blurred by the moon, or it was just a sign of amnesia, but Gehrman remembered that Ludwig gave him a badge, as a token of appreciation. Gehrman did not know what happened to the badge however. He probably dropped it somewhere.

But still, was Ludwig really that bad of a man? Sure he had taken Gehrman’s position as a hunter, and he was the reason Gehrman’s workshop was put out of service. But weren’t all hunters aiming for the same goal? To cleanse the streets of Yharnam, making sure the people are safe.

A hunter is a hunter, no matter what kind of rank or status. A rank isn’t going to protect you from a beast, nor will it mean anything when you are facing the hunt. A rank is nothing more than a title.

Gehrman closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. He was a disgrace to every hunter out there. He was a disgrace for letting his family die. If anyone should have woken up here, in Equestria, it should have been the hunter who set him free from the dream. At least that hunter did the right thing. At least he fought and pressed on. At least he didn’t let his own self-pity overcome him. 

“Hello, Gehrman?”

Gehrman slowly opened his eyes. Peeking his eyes and trying to get a better look through the darkness—which wasn’t really that hard. 

“Spike, is that you?” Gehrman asked.

Spike nodded his head, using his fire breath to lit a candle he was holding in his right claw, he walked towards Gehrman.

“Sorry if I startled you,” Spike apologized, taking a seat beside Gehrman and turning to face him directly.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?” Gehrman asked.

Spike nodded. “I have something that has been bugging me for a little while,” Spike admitted shamefully. “I didn’t really feel like talking to somepony about it, because I knew I was going to get the same answers from them. But I figured, since you’re not a pony, I could talk to you about it.”

Gehrman raised an eyebrow at him. “Why would you want to talk about your problems, with me? I am a stranger to you. We barely know each other.” He replied in confusion.

“Well,” Spike said. “When Twilight went to bed, she kept telling me how wise some of your words were, and that you were probably very smart and knew a lot of things. So I just thought… that I could talk to you about something. Since you're so wise.” Spike trailed of.

“Tell me what’s troubling you, child.” Gehrman said, a sincere smile appearing on his face.

“I feel like I’m useless.”

Gehrman blinked in confusion.

“It’s just that,” Spike said, rubbing his head furiously. “Twilight and the others go on these crazy adventures, and take me with them. They all have their own unique abilities and powers. Pinkie is always cheerful. Twilight is super smart. Applejack is always honest and can get out of the most difficult of situations. Rainbow Dash I don’t even have to explain, she is what she says she is. And Fluttershy is—well she’s good with animals and everypony likes her because she’s so nice to everypony.”

Looking down at his claws, Spike felt his eyes watering up. “And what do I have? I don’t have any special powers. I can’t use magic. I don’t have an Element of Harmony. I have nothing. Nothing at all.”

Gehrman continued to stare at the baby dragon in front of him. What was he supposed to say? What could he say? He had no idea what kind of crazy adventures he and Twilight went on. So he decided to just listen until he came up with something good to say.

“It’s not like I don’t appreciate them taking me with them on all their adventures. I love it, actually,” Spike said as he sniffed up some snot that was dropping out of his nose. “But it’s the fact that I’m just an assistant. The only thing I really do all day is help Twilight organize books and send the occasional friendship report to Princess Celestia. It just feels like I’m being left out. I want to do something, I want to be someone.”

“You remind me of a hunter,” Gehrman spoke up in a rather soothing, but wise tone. “He failed to defeat even the smallest of beasts, because he was scared. He thought he’d never be able to press on,” Gehrman smiled as the memory passed by. “He too thought he was nothing, that he was worthless. But you know what he did?”

Spike shook his head.

“He didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care if he would live or die against the beasts. If he was going out, then by the good blood would he go out with a bang! He pressed on and he eventually killed his first beasts. Then came the second one, then the third, and eventually he accomplished the impossible.” Gehrman said, looking down at Spike. “What I am trying to tell you is that no matter how you feel, or how you feel about others and their greater accomplishments. Know that you are special in your own way. Everyone has their purpose. From what Twilight has told me is that they went to search for the Elements of Harmony. Had you gone with them that day, then maybe you would have been given an Element of Harmony.”

“I’ll never know,” Spike sighed.

“You are special in your own way, Spike. People might think you’re nothing, or you might think you’re nothing. But there is one thing, one thing that every person has inside him, that cannot be bested by any magic.”

“And what would that be?” Spike asked.

“Your heart.”

“My heart?”

“Yes,” Gehrman replied, smiling at him. “Your heart is the most powerful thing. Not only because it keeps your body running, but also because if you put your heart into something, along with your very soul, you can accomplish anything. No magic or stupid element would be able to defeat you. Not even the most powerful of beasts.” Gehrman looked up at the ceiling of the library. “Not even a Great One.”

“Really?” Spike asked, wiping his eyes.

“Yes,” Gehrman replied, smiling at the baby dragon. “With your entire life in front of you, you can accomplish anything, as long as you put--.”

“Your heart in it,” Spike finished. He looked up at Gehrman and smiled brightly. “I-I think I get it,” he said, fiddling with his claws. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Gehrman chuckled, poking Spike’s belly. “Now go to bed, it’s too late for you to be up.”

“Thanks Twilight!” Spike said, getting off the chair and running upstairs.

“Twilight?” Gehrman repeated, scratching his cheek in confusion. “But my name is Gehrman.”

Shaking his head, Gehrman leaned back into his chair. Did he feel sleepy? No. Did he need it? Yes. Was he going to sleep? Only time can tell.

“Hmm,” A dark blue Alicorn said to herself as she watched Gehrman blow a lock of hair out of his face. “Wise and caring. You would make a fine leader, Gehrman.”

And with that, Princess Luna continued her nightly routine through Ponyville. Making sure everypony had pleasant dreams. 

> Chapter XIV
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gehrman awoke with a gasp—wait, he awoke? That means he had fallen asleep. He had slept! He had fallen asleep without having a nightmare… which was strange, considering the fact he had them almost every night. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and scratching the back of his head, Gehrman let out a sigh of relief.

“I feel a like I am reborn” he said to himself, stiffing a yawn. “Another day in the waking world.” He smiled at that. It was true. The waking world was truly a beautiful thing, even if it wasn’t Yharnam. Looking out of a nearby window, Gehrman saw that the sun had already risen. He had no idea what time it was, nor did he felt the need to ask someone. 

“I think I’ll go for a walk,” Gehrman said to himself, chuckling as he stood up from his chair. Grabbing his top hat, he put it back on his head. “Look at me. Here I am, talking to myself. Ha, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think I be turning insane.” 

Shaking his head and clearing his mind from some unpleasant memories, Gehrman walked towards the library’s exit and opened it. Walking out of the library and inhaling the sweet smell of fresh air and grass, Gehrman began to walk further into Ponyville.

It was a very strange scene to begin with. Ponies were setting up different kinds of stands, others were happily strolling through town. Of course there was the occasional look of discomfort and hesitation from some ponies, but Gehrman just ignored those. He’d gotten used to those stares a long time ago. Walking into town and eyeing various buildings with curiosity, Gehrman stopped at a nearby stand.

“Excuse me,” Gehrman said, getting the attention of the Earth pony stallion behind it. “How much are those apples?”

“Well ah’ll be.” A voice called out.

Gehrman turned his head, but saw no one. He blinked in confusion, and returned his attention to the stallion. “As I asked, how much are those—“

“How are ya this fine mornin’, Gehrman?”

There it was again. The same voice that called out to him seconds ago. “Who is there?” Gehrman asked.

Suddenly, a familiar looking Stetson hat pooped out from behind the stand. Gehrman peeked his eyes, but smiled when he saw who was standing behind the stand.

“Applejack, hello,” Gehrman greeted. “I am fine,” he replied, looking over at all of the apples that were displayed over the stand. “I must say that these look quite appetizing.”

“Would ya like one?” Applejack asked, holding out an apple to him.

Gehrman waved his hands in front of him in a dismissive way. “No, I don’t have any way of repaying you. That would be like stealing—well maybe not stealing, but you get the point.”

“Just eat it already, big fella,” Applejack chuckled.

Gehrman smiled at her. Reaching out for the apple, he grabbed it and brought it to his mouth. Taking a bite out of the apple, his eyes widened at the sweet flavor and juices that entered his mouth. “This is amazing,” Gehrman commented, smiling brightly as he took another bite. “I must say that I’m very impressed, Applejack.”

Applejack tipped her hat. “That’s mighty kind of ya, Gehrman.”

“This the fella you were talking about, yesterday?” The stallion asked Applejack.

Applejack nodded her head. “He sure is,” she replied. “Gehrman, I’d like you to meet mah brother: Big McIntosh. But we all call him Big Mac for short.”

Gehrman tipped his hat at him. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Big Mac replied. His eyes inspected Gehrman, his thoughts of him being ones of curiosity and awe. “You are one big fella, aren’t ya?”

“I am quite big for my standards, yes,” Gehrman chuckled. “But I must say that you are quite big as well.”

“Thank you”

“You’re welcome.”

“If ya’ll are gonna keep complimenting one another, then please do it somewhere private.” Applejack said, stiffing a giggle.

“My apologies, Applejack,” Gehrman said, tipping his hat at her.

“Though I must say,” Applejack said, peeking her eyes at him. “That is a mighty fine hat you’re wearin’. Where’d you get it?”

"I made it myself." Gehrman replied.

“Really, then you must be quite talented at your work,” Applejack said, earning a nod from Gehrman. “Well,” Applejack trailed off. Looking up at her own hat, she sighed as she grabbed it and held it out to Gehrman. “Ya see, my hat’s been damaged when I went applebuckin’ not too long ago. I didn’t really care at first, but as ya can see,” she said as she showed him the big cut that was running from the middle of her hat, to the right side. “The cut’s been getting bigger and bigger.”

“May I?” Gehrman asked, holding his hand out.

Applejack nodded, handing him her head as she watched in curiosity as Gehrman began to inspect it. 

“The cut can be fixed pretty easily, and some parts are a brighter color than other parts. I can fix it for you, if you want. Though I know that a hat has some kind of emotional value to a person, so I understand if you decline my offer.” Gehrman said as he handed her; her hat back.

Applejack shook her head. “Just promise you’ll fix it quickly, I really don’t like not having my trusty hat on my head.”

“I will make sure this hat will be better than before,” Gehrman said as he took one last bite from his apple. “Where do I need to go to get some cloth, or a needle?”

“Try Carousel Boutique,” Applejack replied. “It’s Rarity’s boutique, I’m sure she’ll let you in.”

“Which way?” Gehrman asked.

“Just keep walking straight from here on out,” Applejack replied. “I would come with ya, but I can’t let Big Mac sell all these apples all by himself.”

“It’s all right, Applejack,” Gehrman replied, turning around and walking away from the stand. “And don’t worry, your hat will be fine.” He called out to her.

Applejack smiled and waved him goodbye.

“He’s nice,” Big Mac commented, looking at his sister. 

“He sure is,” Applejack replied, a small hint of warmth making it up to her muzzle. “He’s a mighty fine fella, that’s for sure.”

Gehrman continued his walk through Ponyville, Applejack’s Stetson hat in one hand, while the other held nothing but air. He had to admit that Ponyville looked a little childish, and a bit too colorful, too. But he couldn’t care less about that. He’d rather have to look at Ponyville for eighty years, than to look at the scenery of the Hunter’s Dream for two seconds. 

“Excuse me,”

Gehrman stopped in his tracks. “Hello?” he asked.

“Down here,” a childish voice replied.

Gehrman looked down, only to be greeted by a white unicorn filly. “Oh, hello,” Gehrman greeted the filly. “How can I help you?”

“I was just wondering, is your name Gerham?”

“My name is Gehrman,” he corrected the filly. “Now, how can I help you?”

“Nothing really,” the filly replied, smiling at him. “I was just wondering what you looked like, since my sister couldn’t stop talking about you yesterday.”

“And who might your sister be, young lady?” Gehrman asked politely.

“Her name’s Rarity. She owns the Carousel Boutique. Surely she told you that, yesterday.” The filly replied.

“Is she the one who talks and acts like a noble?” Gehrman asked. 

The filly nodded.

“Then, yes I have. But if you wouldn’t mind me asking,” Gehrman said as he got on one knee. “Would you mind telling me where your sister’s boutique is located? You see, Applejack gave me her hat, and I promised to fix it for her.”

“Applejack gave you her hat?” The filly asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. “She must really like you, then. From what I’ve seen so far, that hat is sacred to her.”

Gehrman shrugged, standing at his full height again. “Will you help me, Uhm… what is your name, young lady?”

“My name is Sweetie Belle,” she replied, smiling at him. “Nice to meet you. Oh boy, I can’t wait to tell the other crusaders about this.”

“Crusaders?” Gehrman repeated in confusion. “Aren’t you a bit young to go on a crusade?”

Sweetie Belle tilted her head in confusion. “What do you mean? We’re all trying to get our Cutiemarks, and we’re trying really hard. All the other fillies from our class already have their Cutiemarks.” Sweetie Belle looked down at the ground in shame as she let out a sigh. “Me, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo are the only blank flanks left.”

Gehrman cleared his throat. “I’m not trying to be rude. But I haven’t got the slightest clue of what you just told me. Now, will you or will you not take me to your sister’s boutique?”

Sweetie Belle nodded. “Sure, just follow me. It isn’t too far from here.”

Gehrman nodded his head and followed the filly. The walk to the boutique wasn’t that long, as she told him before. And it was actually quite fascinating how big such a small looking town actually was. Sure, it was nothing compared to Yharnam, but that didn’t mean it didn’t impress him.

Having finally reached the boutique, Gehrman and Sweetie Belle exchanged their goodbyes and went separate ways. Gehrman walked towards the entrance of Carousel Boutique and knocked.

“Come in.” A voice form inside the boutique called out.

Gehrman opened the door, careful not to bang his head on the way in. He entered the boutique, only to be greeted by an all too happy Rarity.

“Why Gehrman,” Rarity said, levitating pieces of cloth over her head. “What brings you here?”

Gehrman held up Applejack’s hat. “Applejack asked if I could fix her hat. I said yes but found out I didn’t have the proper tools for fixing it. So she told me to visit you, and here I am.”

“That sounds logical. However, Applejack could have just told me she needed her hat fixed.” Rarity commented. Shaking her head, she continued. “But what can one do? Come now, Gehrman. I will show you were the magic happens.”

Gehrman followed the mare until she showed him a room full of cloth, some needles, silk, and many other various objects that one could use to fix clothing. Or in this case, a hat. 

“Feel free to take whatever you like. But try not to make a mess, okay?” Rarity said, looking up at Gehrman.

“You have my deepest gratitude, Rarity. If you ever need something from me, then feel free to ask.”

Rarity bit her bottom lip. “Well,” she trailed off. “There is one thing.”

Gehrman raised an eyebrow. “And that would be?” Gehrman asked.

“Well, I promised Sweetie Belle and her friends that I would ‘hang out with them’ as they called it. But I have just received a really big order from one of my customers. So if you could take my place, you would make me the happiest mare in all of Equestria.” Rarity replied.

“If that is all,” Gehrman said as he reached for a nearby chair. “And when am I supposed to ‘hang out’ with your sister and her friends?”

“Two hours from now,” Rarity smiled.

“… By the Old Blood, woman. Couldn’t you have told me that before I told you that you could ask anything of me?” Gehrman sighed, sitting down on the chair, which could barely sustain his weight.

“If you don’t want to, then--.”

“I never said I didn’t want to,” Gehrman interrupted her. “I will do it. But first I need to fix this hat, and that will take some time.”

“Take all the time you need,” Rarity said, turning around and walking out of the room. ‘But be prepared to be bombarded with questions by my sister and her friends.’

And with that, the First Hunter began his new mission. Fixing the hat of a pony he had just met. 

> Memoir for Ludwig
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A man is defined by his ambitions. With his birth came a solemn vow. Ludwig was a man of words and a man of deeds. The founder of the Church’s Workshop, Ludwig and his Holy Moonlight sword, which he had discovered a long, long time ago, would become a prime example of the power us humans have inside of us. This abyssal weapon, which could summon the power of the cosmos itself was wielded by him, and only him.

Ludwig was a fine hunter. He saw no need for further slaughter, had the beastly spread been haltered. He saw no need for having to slay every last one of them. He would rather have the Church search for a cure, while they would fend off any beast that dared to threaten the existence of mankind. The Holy Moonlight Sword. His tutor, his pride and joy. It had been with him for as long as he could remember.

But alas, it was all too good to be true. The beastly scourge was not haltered. Church hunters would turn into veracious beasts, having taken so much of the Old Blood. Some would even get drunk, having taken too much blood. Their pupils collapsed and turned to mush, indicating the onset of the scourge of beasts. Even Laurence, the First Vicar had broken his promise. His vow. 

Fear the Old Blood.

A vow and a promise he had made to Master Willem, a long time ago. He did not keep it. 

Ludwig had always looked up to Laurence, he always admired him and his ambitions. Whenever Ludwig would get the chance to talk to Laurence, or even be in his presence, he would consider it an honor of the highest level. But even the highest of honors, can be deceiving. Laurence’s pupils were turned into mush as well, indicating the beastly scourge. The only thing that was left of him, and that was honored by the other vicars, was his skull… the skull of a beast.

Not even Ludwig could have predicted this outcome. Laurence was dead, and the Church was left without a leader. Some desperately tried to make contact with a god, a Great One, but to no avail. And Ludwig. Well, he saw no further need for holding back.

Both rage and grief had taken over. His vison blurred and his mind clouded, Ludwig separated the Church’s hunters into two different classes. The Black Church hunters whom he would join on the nightly hunt, were tasked to kill every single beast, and erase any existence of it. the Whit Church hunters would do the same thing, yet they were to experiment on the beasts, trying to figure out a way to stop the beastly scourge from spreading.

But even the mighty heroes, will eventually fall. Ludwig had gotten drunk of blood. His body no longer in the physical world. He was taken to the Hunter’s Nightmare, where Kos ruled. There, in his human form, he continued to hunt beasts, while also having to fend off against hunters who had gone rogue. His Holy Moonlight Sword kept evil at bay, his true mentor would always be at his side. 

The Hunter’s Nightmare showed a lot of resemblance to Cathedral Ward, yet it looked like someone had tried to recreate it. It looked more like a faint memory, than the real deal. Ludwig had passed several hunters on his way to the cathedral itself. When he had beaten the humongous axe wielding monster and reached the cathedral, he was shocked at what he saw.

A beast. A beast that looked like it had been just set to flames lay there on the altar. Curiosity overtook the chief hunter, and he walked towards it. Nothing could have prepared him for the discovery he was about to make. 

A smell. A smell he recognized. A smell he adored and loved. Laurence. Vicar Laurence. His pride and joy. His inspiration. The one who acted like a fatherly figure to him, was laying the on that altar. How could this have happened? Laurence… his mentor had turned beast. Why? Why did it have to be him? Why not someone else?

Having been overtaken by grief, Ludwig prayed to his mentor one last time, before taking his leave.

The River of Blood. Despicable spider-like creatures who sucked out the blood of hunters, their bellies filled with blood, looking like they were about to explode. Ludwig slaughtered them all, their blood covering his Church attire, entering his wounds. Eventually he reached an underground arena. 

And it would be the last place he would reach. The beastly scourge had taken its toll on him. He felt it. He could feel himself turning beast. And he did. He did turn beast. 

Many hunters would come to the hunter’s nightmare, but none would ever get passed Ludwig, the Accursed.

Ludwig’s humanity died with him, when the Old Blood had taken its toll on him. His ideals were still intact, his Moonlight sword was still with him, and the Old Blood would never leave his veins. He would always stay in this Hunter’s Nightmare, never leaving that accursed arena.



But then you come. The player. The hunter who has bested Great Ones and other beasts. You enter the Hunter’s Nightmare. You fight against bloodthirsty hunters. You have the right weapons and firearms to best any beast. But most of all, you have the will to press on. You have the will to fight, and die, but return and fight again, until you are victorious.

And then you enter the underground arena, and you see what has become of Ludwig. You see what a once great hunter has become. You have been given hints in the past. Ludwig’s Holy Blade is a prime example. Ludwig’s Holy Blade is a prime example, being a trick weapon typically used by Healing Church hunters.  It is said that Ludwig, first hunter of the Healing Church, employed the silver sword.  It's transformed state combines the smaller sword with its sheath, forming a greatsword that emphasized the Church's heavy-handed, merciless stance towards the plague of beasts.  Its departures from traditional workshop designs suggested that the Church anticipated much larger inhuman beasts.

You are given hints, hints that indicate that Ludwig was a skilled hunter and leader. You believed that he was. We all speculated that the Cleric Beast was him, we all thought it was. But it wasn’t. He wasn’t. He had turned into something more veracious, because he was veracious all along.

Do you defeat him? Yes, you do. And when you do, you are given a choice. Do you tell this once proud hunter that everything he has fought for was in vain? Or do you tell him that his Church hunters have become the honorable Spartans he wanted them to become?

The choice is yours. But remember one thing. Ludwig fought for what he thought was right. he made the ultimate sacrifice. He fights you with his conscience intact. And he fights with some if his glory intact. 

Ludwig, the Accursed. Ludwig, the Hero. Ludwig, the Fool. Ludwig, the Hunter.

Names do not matter, legends do.

And those screams of pain he lets out? Ha, those are just screams of excitement. Because he knows that you are the one who will set him free. You, the player will set him free.

So, young hunter, you know what needs to be done. Continue your hunt and uncover the truth. It is your destiny.

And Ludwig will be watching you from the skies, together with his fellow companions. Because heroes always end up in the skies, as the angels they are supposed to be.

> Chapter XV
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

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. 

> Chapter XVI
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.”

> Chapter XVII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dark had always been something Cadance hadn’t been fond of. She found it to be quite frightening from time to time. The fear of the unknown, of not knowing what lurked in that shroud of blackness terrified her. Having not slept for a day really did a number on the poor mare. Her husband was sleeping peacefully in their bed, while she had to stay awake to keep evil at bay.


She could see the irony of it. Shining Armor had been in the same position not a month ago, when the Changeling threat loomed over Canterlot. He too knew how she was feeling at the moment, but he too needed his rest. He was her moral support during the day, and his love and affection for her was what kept her going.


But now, standing a few feet away from her stood a creature. A creature she had never seen before. The darkness wasn’t really helping, for she could only see the outlines of its posture. It looked big, bigger than anything she had ever seen. But its height wasn’t the only thing that unnerved her. No, it was what it was carrying in one of its appendages. She could clearly see the outlines of a weapon, and it frightened her even more. Peeking her eyes at the creature, she felt a lump in her throat.


“You and I need to have a talk,” it said, seemingly moving closer towards her.


Cadance felt her body tense up. Her ears were perked up and her eyes were fixed upon the creature that was now getting closer and closer. Whatever it was, its posture said one thing: Dangerous. How did it enter the castle? How had she not heard it entering? She wanted to scream. She tried her hardest to get any form of sound out of her, but to no avail.


“Scream, and I will gut you,” the creature threatened as it now stood a mere ten feet away from her. “I’ll make this plain and simple. Where is the Crystal Heart?” it asked.


‘Crystal Heart? What’s he talking about?’ she thought to herself, staring at the creature in front of her.


“I know you stole it,” it hissed at her. “I’m here to get it back and return it to its original owner.”


Cadance felt her heart quickening. She had no idea a pony heart could beat this fast. Was this because of the adrenaline flowing through her veins? “I… don’t know what you are talking about,” Cadance said, though it came out more like a whisper. “How did you get inside the castle?” she asked, regaining a bit of her courage.


“There were no guards,” the creature deadpanned. “It was pretty easy to enter without being noticed. But you still haven’t answered my question. Where is the Crystal Heart?” it asked, this time a little harsher than before.


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Cadance replied. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re trespassing,” Cadance stated. “I’ll have you thrown into a dungeon, or even better: Thrown into the frigid outskirts of the Crystal Empire.”


With incredible speed, the creature moved towards Cadence’s throne. It moved its face close to hers, its hot breath warming her fur. “Where do you think I came from?” it asked, its stinking breath making Cadance gag. 


‘Come on Cadance, you’re a grown mare! You’re an Alicorn for Faust’s sake! Show this thing what you’re made of!’ Cadance mentally shouted to herself, her courage increasing by the second. “You should have stayed there,” she smirked, her fear now completely suppressed, though she stayed cautious. “I’m giving you one chance to turn around and leave. If you don’t, then I’ll make sure you regret it.”


The creature went silent for a good couple of seconds, but then it began to chuckle, it’s chuckling eventually turned into maniacal laughter. “You,” it laughed, looking down at her. “Don’t make me laugh.” It hissed at her.


She was about to reply to his comment, until she felt a powerful force colliding with her stomach. The Princess of Love was sent flying into her throne. She landed on her throne, her eyes opened but her vision blurry. Her back started to ache, pain coursing through her body. Her muscles tensed up and her wings felt like they were about to fall off.


Cadance coughed and her eyes widened in shock. She couldn’t see what she had just coughed up, but she could clearly feel it. Blood. Her teeth and the inside of her cheeks were stained with the sticky substance. “Oh my,” Cadance said, but was cut off by a leather shoe colliding with her muzzle.


“Enough of this,” the creature said, kicking her again. “Where is the Crystal Heart?!” it yelled.


“Go… to Tartarus,” Cadance hissed at him. Coughing up more blood, the pink mare looked up at the creature. Suddenly, the creature grabbed her by her neck. Lifting her up high, Cadance felt its grip tighten around her neck. 


“You will break,” the creature hissed at her again, squeezing what little air there was left out of her trachea. Releasing its grip around her and letting her fall to the floor, the creature kicked her before she would have hit the floor, sending her flying and colliding with her throne once again.


“I wonder,” it said, stepping towards her. “How much longer you can endure this.” Grabbing her by her mane and lifting her up, the creature’s face met hers. “Where is the Crystal Heart?”


Cadance glared at the creature, rage—which she had never felt before—filling her eyes. Gurgling up some spit mixed with blood, she spat at the creature’s face. 


“Buck off,” she sneered at it. “Do your worst.”


The creature gave her a toothy smile, revealing its canine set of teeth. “With pleasure,” it said as it released its grip around her mane, making her fall to the ground. 


Cadance tried to get up, but she was quickly pinned to the ground by a large foot colliding with her back. Landing flat on her stomach and face first into the floor, she tried to get up again, only to be met by a series of stomps and kicks. The pain eventually took control over the poor mare, and she began to cry. She had no idea if her force field was still up, but she didn’t care at the moment.


“I can make the pain stop,” the creature said, stomping on her back again. “Just tell me where the Crystal Heart is and I promise to leave.”


“I-I don’t know what the Crystal Heart is. But even if I did, I wouldn’t tell it to the likes of you!” Cadance replied, glaring at the creature. “I’d rather have every single bone in my body broken, than to give you whatever information you want.”


“That can be arranged, your majesty,” the creature said, stomping on her back again.


Cadance closed her eyes as she felt the immense force crash down on her back. Where was her husband when she needed him?


“If you’re not going to tell me, then you leave me no choice,” the creature said as it bent over and placed its axe beside him. Placing one of its hands on the mare’s side, in a seemingly comforting manner, its other hand went for her wing. 


Gascoigne was getting sick and tired of this. She was too persistent. But he promised not to kill her. That he would let the Great One do. The hunter traced his fingertips under her wing until he felt the bone her wings were attached to. Grabbing hold of her wing, he gave it a firm pull while also twisting it.


A sickening crack could be heard echoing through the throne room. Cadance screamed out in agony as she felt the immense pain on her wing. Writhing on the floor, the pink mare began to weep. 


Gascoigne looked down at the broken mare in front of him. Lifting up his leg, the hunter brought it down on her—already—broken wing. 


“I’ll be back,” Gascoigne said as he picked up his axe and turned around, running out of the throne room. 


Cadance’s eyes felt heavy, her body ached everywhere and the pain was unbearable. But before she closed her eyes, she caught a glimpse of a white stallion running into the throne room.


Whatever this thing was that attacked her, she knew one thing for sure: Spiders weren’t the creatures she feared the most anymore. No, the creature that had broken her mentally, and physically had taken that place.






Gascoigne let out a sigh of relief as he reached his temporary hideout. Entering though the broken window, the hunter walked into the living room. His two friends were already fast asleep, and he too felt tired. Walking towards a nearby couch, the hunter sat down on it. Placing his axe beside him, he closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him. 


He had broken her. The hunter smiled to himself.


Mission accomplished.
> Chapter XVIII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gehrman had always been fond of children. He adored their innocent smiles and their cheerful attitude. Most of the hunters who entered the dream had people they cared about, people they loved. There was one he cared about, but she eventually departed. He had no idea why he hadn’t told her about his feelings towards her. Even that ‘How to pick up fair maidens’ book didn’t help him. Was it the difference between age? Was it because she was beautiful and he was not?

Did he regret his decision? No, he did not. 

Lady Maria was many things to him. Whether it be another hunter, or his long lost love interest, he would always be proud of her. She was one of a kind, that’s for sure. Her Rakuyo was an elegant weapon, and a very deadly one at that. Hunting beasts, that was her calling. She was trained by Gehrman, she was given the rank of hunter by Gehrman… but she would eventually leave Gehrman, and go to a place he could never visit.

She always took his advice very seriously. She was trained to use every trick weapon the Old Workshop had crafted. Her beauty and elegance stood out when she used the Threaded Cane, her immense power and determination when she used the Hunter’s Axe, and her hatred towards beasts came into play when she used the Saw Cleaver. 

Gehrman had even offered her his Burial Blade for her to use during a nightly hunt, but she politely declined his generous offer. Her Rakuyo always came first. It was her pride and joy, just as Gehrman’s Burial Blade was his. 

Of course, this all happened before he vowed to watch over the Hunter’s Dream. 

He wished she had stayed with him. He should have told her how he felt from the beginning. Perhaps if her feelings were mutual, he wouldn’t have made such a selfish decision. But alas, the hunter would never know for sure. She left and he stayed behind.

But in all his years of being a hunter, he had never been this stressed as he was now. Sweetie Belle and her friends were proving to be quite the challenge. The continuous onslaught of different kind of games they wanted to play with him combined with the questions they kept on asking, even though he had told them to ask no more questions, was taxing to say the least. 

“Children, please,” Gehrman said, looking down at the three bouncing fillies on front of him. “No more games.”

“Just one more, please?” Sweetie Belle pouted.

“Yeah, you’ve proved you’re really good at hide and seek,” Scootaloo added.

Gehrman shook his head, wiping away some drops of sweat that had begun to form on his forehead. “Is this what candy does to children these days?” he asked himself, bowing his head.

“Just one more game,” Sweetie Belle said, looking up at him.

“Alright,” Gehrman said, giving in to their pleads. “But no more hiding, running, or any form of physical exercise.”

Sweetie Belle tilted her head in confusion. “Then… what are we supposed to play, if we can’t even move?” she asked in confusion. “I want to play hide and seek.”

Gehrman shrugged. “Where I come from, children used to lay down and stare at the sky. They would talk about the clouds, and what kind of figures they saw in them. You could try that,” Gehrman suggested.

“But that sounds boring,” Scootaloo whined, earning nod from agreement from her friends. “Can’t you think of something else to do?”

“Unfortunately this old geezer it out of ideas,” Gehrman replied. “But what do the three of you usually do, when you are not playing games?”

“That’s simple,” Apple Bloom smiled at him. “We try ta earn our cutie marks.”

Gehrman raised his eyebrows. “A cutie mark, you say?” he said.

“Yeah. I’m guessing you don’t have those were you’re from,” Apple Bloom replied, earning a nod from Gehrman. “Well,” she continued. “A pony earns his or her cutie mark when they find their calling. Their cutie mark tells them what they’re good at, sort of,” she replied, bowing her head in shame. “As you might have noticed, we haven’t earned ours yet. We’re the only ones in our class who haven’t earned their cutie marks, and it’s getting’ really annoying.”

“And why is that?” Gehrman asked.

“Because of our ‘blank flanks’, ponies like to pick on us. Specifically Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. They call us blank flanks just because we haven’t earned our cutie marks yet,” Apple Bloom replied.

“Is earning your cutie mark really that important?” Gehrman asked.

“Yes!” came the reply for the three fillies in front of him.

Gehrman shook his head. “So basically, cutie marks tell what you are good at? You are to do what your cutie mark tells you, even if it’s something you don’t like?”

The three fillies turned their heads to one another. Sure, cutie marks did tell a pony what his or her calling was. But they had never heard of a pony having a cutie mark, but not wanting to do the thing his or her cutie mark was telling them.

Not getting a reply from the fillies, Gehrman continued. “I think that out of all the children from your class, you three are the lucky ones.”

“And why is that?” Apple Bloom asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

“Because you can do anything you want. You don’t have a cutie mark which tells you what to do and what not to. You shouldn’t be sad or angry because you don’t have a cutie mark. You should be happy because you three can do anything you want up to this point,” Gehrman replied, looking down at the fillies with a smile planted on his face. “You three can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Yes,” Gehrman replied. “Anything you can imagine.”

“That… sounds pretty awesome, to be honest,” Scootaloo commented, earning nods of agreement from her friends. “I never really thought of it that way,” she said, looking up at Gehrman with a curious, yet confused expression. “But… what if we get picked on again?”

“Then ignore them,” Gehrman replied, getting on one knee. “Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can never hurt you. If you ignore all of those mean things others say about you, they will eventually stop.” 

“Are ya sure?” Apple Bloom asked, a hint of hesitation in her voice as she took a quick glance at her friends. “Ah mean, about the whole ‘they’ll eventually stop’ thing.”

“I give you my word,” Gehrman said, bowing his head. “Now, what do the three of you want to do?” he asked.

“Ah think we’ll try the thing you mentioned,” Apple Bloom replied.

“Very well,” Gehrman said as he stood up. “Hide and seek it is!”

“Hide and seek?” Apple Bloom asked, tilting her head in confusion. “I thought you said--.”

“I am old, Apple Bloom,” Gehrman replied, turning his head to her. “I tend to forget what I said.”





Gehrman happily walked through Ponyville, a smile planted on his face as he greeted any pony who he walked by. His time with the Crusaders was rather fun. Never would he have thought that three little fillies could hide as well as they did. They used the cover of the shadows to their advantage, like a hunter would do on the nightly hunt. It surprised him that time went by this fast, even though his time in the dream seemed to move very slowly. 

His peg leg proved to be quite annoying. It constantly sunk deep into the murky, grassy ground of Ponyville. He would have to find and alternative solution, perhaps even a wooden prosthetic. Maybe he should ask Twilight for help. Who knows what magic could do for him. Heck, perhaps if he asked politely, she could make him a new wheelchair. He tapped his sheathed Burial Blade, happy that it decided to tag along with him in this new world. He had no idea how things would have gone if he didn’t have his trusty trick weapon with him. 

A hunter’s weapon showcased what a hunter was capable of. Though every hunter started off slow, they would eventually come to effectively utilize whichever weapon they had trained themselves in. The hunters of the Healing Church showed their immense strength and hatred towards beasts by using the Holy Blades and Kirkhammers. Saw Cleavers, Threaded Canes, and Hunter Axes were common amongst hunters of every rank. The Executioners brandished their Logarius’ Wheels, showing their contempt for those with ‘tainted’ blood. The weapons of the Powder Kegs reflected their love of intricate designs and ‘big booms’ as bluntly stated by others. The Hunter of Hunters, who also took on the task of killing hunter who had gone mad with bloodlust, would show off their incredible dexterity and speed with the Blade of Mercy. 

There were many different factions of hunters, each specializing in different weapons and areas of expertise, and even though their individual goals may have been different, they were all bounded by a shared duty: fight back against the plague of beast. A duty that hunters usually carried on until they died, or in special cases, just gave up.

Looking off into the far distance, Gehrman saw the outlines of an all too familiar oak tree. Gehrman quickened his pace, desperately wanting to tell Twilight about his time with the Cutie Mark Crusaders. After a minute or so he reached the library. Knocking on the front door, he grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. Opening the door and stepping inside, the hunter spoke up.

“Twilight, I’m back,” he called out to the lavender mare. Staring at the empty library in confusion, Gehrman continued. “I have something to say to you. I hope you aren’t too busy.”

Slowly walking further into the library, he looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of the lavender unicorn he had grown rather fond, even if it were just a couple of hours he had spent with her. Gehrman blinked twice in confusion, and for the very first time in his life, was caught off guard by a lavender blur passing him.

Gehrman quickly turned his head, his eyes following the blur wherever it went. Suddenly the hunter felt something tugging his leg. “Oh,” he said, looking down at his leg. “Young Spike, how may I assist you this fine afternoon?”

“You can start by telling Twilight,” he said, pointing his claw towards the lavender blur. “to calm down.”

“What has gotten into her?” Gehrman asked, receiving a shrug of confusion from Spike.

“I don’t know,” Spike replied, shaking his head. “Ever since she read the letter Princess Celestia sent her, she’s been collecting dozens of quills, blank scrolls, and bottles of ink.” He said, holding up said letter.

“May I be so blunt as to ask if I could read this letter?” Gehrman asked.

Spike nodded, handing him the letter.

Gehrman rolled down the scroll, his eyes scanning the letter intensely.



To my faithful student,

Twilight, I’m sorry if this letter seems rushed, but I need you and the other Elements of Harmony in Canterlot as soon as possible. There has been an incident, which I need to discuss with you. I fear that your brother and his wife may be in grave danger. There is also something else, but that will be explained once you arrive in Canterlot. Please don’t make me wait, Twilight.

Your ever faithful mentor, 

Princess Celestia.



Scrolling up the scroll, Gehrman let out a sigh as he handed it back to Spike. “Spike,” he said, looking down at him. “Have you read the letter for yourself?”

“Not really,” Spike admitted shamefully, rubbing the back of his scaly head. “Why?”

“It appears something has happened to her brother,” Gehrman replied, taking a quick glance at the lavender blur. “Twilight!” he shouted.

Twilight, however, completely ignored Gehrman and continued zooming through her library, grabbing several scrolls and quills along the way. “This isn’t good,” she said to herself. “Who knows what might have happened to my BBBFF and Cadance.”

“Twilight,” she could hear Gehrman’s voice enter her ears. She decided to ignore him again, not wanting to be distracted.

Spike glanced up at the old man. “I don’t think she’s listening,” he said, his gaze returning to Twilight.

“Does she do this often, or is it just this particular situation?” Gehrman asked.

Spike shrugged as a reply. 

Shaking his head and thinking of what his next move would be, Gehrman let out a sigh of defeat as he walked towards the chair he had slept on a few hours ago. Grabbing hold of the chair and pulling it back, Gehrman seated himself and rubbed his temples. Glancing to his side, he saw Spike walking towards him, a bored expression clearly present on his face as the young dragon took a seat beside the hunter. 

“So,” Spike said. “What have you been up to?”

“Well,” Gehrman replied, looking down him. “I have spent some time with Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo.”

“Oh, that’s nice. They’re cool,” Spike said, fiddling with his claws. 

Gehrman cleared his throat, an awkward silence following soon after. Gehrman took off his top hat, staring at it intensely as it brought up pleasant—instead of the usual bad—memories. Memories of old hunters whom he used to talk with. Hunters who he used to train.

‘To think they all died because of the plague of beasts,’ Gehrman thought to himself, regret and remorse clouding his mind. ‘Was it really all my fault? Laurence led the expedition into the Old Labyrinths, but I approved of it. So am I to blame as well, or was it all because of Laurence’s doing? I am afraid I will never know, nor will I see the day that Yharnam will finally be freed from the accursed plague.’

“Gehrman, you okay there?”

Gehrman’s eyes widened in shock as his thoughts abruptly ended because of Spike. Looking at the young dragon, he smiled. “I am all right," he replied. “Something just crossed my mind, that is all.”

Spike raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “What crossed your mind?” he asked. Seeing the look of disappointment on Gehrman’s face, Spike continued. “Sorry, shouldn’t have asked.”

“No. No, it is quite alright,” Gehrman replied, placing his top hat back on his head. “I… didn’t… I just thought back to Yharnam, that is all.”

“You talk a lot about this Yharnam, and you told us what happened to it,” Spike said, placing a claw under his chin and stroking it. “But what was it like?”

“It was a beautiful city. Full of merchants, a few black smiths, bakery’s, butchers, and many other things one would expect to find in a city,” Gehrman replied, smiling as the thought of Yharnam before the plague of beasts crossed his mind. “But all of that came to an end,” he admitted somberly.

“Those beasts are the cause of it, huh?” Spike asked, earning a nod from Gehrman.

“Beasts were once like me, human. But when the lust for blood becomes too much, one is surely to turn into a beast,” Gehrman said.

Spike looked at the old hunter with a mixture of sadness and pity. Whatever he had been through and whatever he had seen must have done a number on him, because Spike had never seen such an expression of regret on anyone’s face. Were these beasts really that bad? Probably. But he would never know for sure, because he had never been to Yharnam. 

“Are you happy being a hunter, happy when you became one and got to fight against those beasts?” Spike asked. 

“Spike,” Gehrman replied, staring down at the young dragon. “One does not simply become a hunter. It is a duty we humans have to fulfill because of our own sins. Our greed, our lust for power, everything lead up to this. The plague of beasts.”

The old hunter let out a sigh before continuing.

“You should know that not every human being is as polite as I am. There are humans who only desire one thing: Power. Power to rule over everything and everyone, even if it means sacrificing their own humanity. They will not stop until they have achieved their goal, and they will kill anyone who stands in their way. We humans are a very strange species. One day we are your most trusted ally, the other day we are your greatest adversary.”

“Will you become our greatest adversary?” Spike gulped, a bit of sweat dripping down his face.

Gehrman shook his head. “No. No, I will not. I have sinned enough.” he replied.

“What do you mean--.”

“Spike, please,” Gehrman interrupted the young dragon, shaking his head. “There are subjects of my past I would rather forget.”

Spike slowly nodded his head. Turning his head to the side, he noticed Twilight had stopped zooming around the library, probably to catch a breath. “Hey,” he said, looking back at Gehrman. “I’m going to get a few friends, because with Twilight this stressed out, I believe she’ll need all the help she can get.”

Nodding his head in agreement, Gehrman turned to Twilight. “I will keep an eye on her. Just make sure you get back as soon as possible. Whatever happened to Twilight’s brother and his wife has top priority,” Gehrman said. “Make haste, young Spike.”

Nodding his head determinedly, Spike jumped off his chair and ran for the library’s exit.


> Chapter XIX
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the frigid outskirts of the Crystal Empire, King Sombra’s shadow roamed freely across the snowy fields and mountains. The evil king had always been fond of the cold, no matter how his subjects used to complain about it in the past; a past where he was still ruler of the Crystal Empire, but now he had nothing. Defeated by Princess Celestia and Luna, oh the irony. He had always viewed himself as ‘the supreme leader’ of everything. But the two Princesses quickly changed that view.

For many years he waited, hoping that one day he could finally reclaim what was once his… and overthrow Celestia and her sister once and for all, granting him ultimate power. And now his scheme was finally put in motion. With the help of Gascoigne he would finally be able to overthrow the Crystal Empire and take his rightful place on the throne. He would finally have it again, his kingdom.

The shadow of Sombra—which was carried by the icy snowstorm like a plastic bag, floating through the wind soared through the sky. He could feel it - their presence. The Elements of Harmony, they had arrived, or at least their caretakers. He watched in the far distance as they got off the train, which they had taken to arrive in the frigid outskirts of his empire. 

Six mares and a dragon got off the train. This would be easy.

‘Is this all?’ the king thought to himself, watching as the six mares began to walk away from the station. The king, confident that he could take on these seven fools all by himself, was about to move forward… but stopped when he noticed something else getting off the train. ‘Is that… Gascoigne?’ the king thought to himself, squinting his eyes to get a better look. ‘No, it is someone else.’

Sighing inwardly, the king decided to observe instead of attack. When the time was right he would engage… with Gascoigne at his side, of course. Watching as his eight adversaries made their way into the outskirts of the Crystal Empire. Then, out of the heavy snowstorm, a figure appeared. A figure with a shield as a cutie mark. Shining Armor, Cadance’s husband.

Gritting his teeth, Sombra mentally cursed the Prince for coming to their aid. Without him he could have led them into a trap. But alas, it was all too good to be true. Sombra could not overhear their conversation, but the hug the lavender mare and the young Prince said enough. They were happy to see each other again. It disgusted him.

The figure that shared resemblance to Gascoigne walked up to Shining Armor, seemingly introducing himself. Sombra watched in slight curiosity as the creature shook Shining Armor’s hoof. They all turned around and started to head for the Crystal Empire. 

This was not good. His plans for total world domination weren’t about to be ruined by the stupid elements and their new friend. He would not be halted. He would be victorious. No one would stand in his way. Watching them walk in the direction of the Crystal Empire, Sombra gritted his teeth.

‘Not if I have something to say about it,’ Sombra thought as he chased after them, a burning sensation of rage and bloodlust overtaking the once proud king as he quickened his pace, feeling the icy wind rub against him. Letting out a terrifying growl, Sombra’s shadow emerged from the snowstorm.

The king watched as everyone turned their heads towards him, looking at him with utter fear… except for one. Sombra watched they all ran away from him, except for one again. The creature in question simply crossed his arms as he stared up at the king, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Sombra stared down at the creature in slight confusion. Was it not frightened by his shadowy figure? Glaring at the creature, Sombra simply flew passed him, ready to take on the Elements of Harmony and the Prince… only to find out that they were out of sight. Mentally scolding himself for getting distracted, Sombra turned to the creature, glaring intensely at it.

“You,” Sombra’s voice echoed through the icy winds of the frigid outskirts of the Crystal Empire. “How dare you stand before me? Do you have any idea who you are facing, creature?” he asked, floating over him.

Crossing his arms, the creature spoke up. “I know nothing,” he replied, shrugging. “I am just an old man, looking for some peace and quiet.”

“I can grant you that,” Sombra threatened.

The creature simply chuckled. “Oh, quite the anger in you,” he said, putting his arms in his pockets and turning around. “Talk to me when you have calmed down. Perhaps you should get out of the cold, it might do you some good,” he said as he walked away from the king, heading to the Crystal Empire.

Sombra was about to speak up, ready to launch himself at the old man and finish him off with one swift blow. But then he remembered the ‘inside man.’ Yes. He should not have to worry himself about this creature. Gascoigne would take care of him. Besides, sooner or later Cadance would not be able to hold up the barrier any longer. And when it would fall, he would be ready.

But for now he would wait.





Gehrman let out a sigh as he walked through the barrier that separated the Crystal Empire from it frigid outskirts. Taking a quick glance back at it, he let out another sigh. What was that thing? What was that shadow?

“Gehrman!” called a voice to him. Turning his head, he saw that it was Applejack, who was running towards him with a concerned expression on her face. “Are ya all right?” she asked, looking over him, trying to find any form of injury. “Don’t ya ever scare me like that, again!” she scolded the old hunter. Letting out a sigh, she looked up at him. “You shouldn’t have tried to take him on all on yourself.”

“Applejack, in case you have not noticed,” Gehrman said, tugging his sheathed Burial Blade. “My blade has not left its sheath and my Blunderbuss has not been fired. I did not fight against that shadow.”

Applejack gave him a skeptical look, but decided not to press on the subject.

“Shining Armor, your horn.”

Both human and pony turned their heads to see Twilight running to her brother. Shining’s horn was covered in tiny black crystals, preventing him from using any form of magic whatsoever. Shining turned his head to see Gehrman walk towards him. He watched as the hunter kneeled down in front of him.

“Hey,” Shining said, giving him a toothy smile.

“Are you all right?” Gehrman asked, his eyes scanning over Shining’s body. 

“Yeah,” Shining replied, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m just a little shaken up, I guess,” he said, looking directly into Gehrman’s eyes. “Even though we just met like five minutes ago, I already know you have guts.”

“And experience,” Gehrman added. “That shadow was… strange, very strange.”

“I know,” Shining added. “Let’s get going. Cadance is waiting for us.”

Gehrman nodded, walking after him as they began their walk towards the Crystal Empire and its palace. He had to admit, even though it was the first time he had ever encountered that bizarre shadow, he had a feeling it would not be his last. 

A long, long time ago, when the hunt was still young, Gehrman held track of all the different kinds of beasts he had encountered. There were the Carrion Crows. Big, obese crows that had devoured the flesh of the many corpses littered throughout Yharnam. Their bellies filled with so much fat that they couldn’t even fly for more than five seconds before falling to the ground. 

Then there were the horrendous Labyrinth Rats, which were massive, overgrown rats, almost as large as Gehrman himself. Their bodies, heavily mutilated, missing several patches of fur and covered in grotesque, infectious growths. Pus and blood were present of their entire bodies; pieces of skin were ripped from their heads, revealing the skull of the rat.

Then there were the humongous Man-Eater Boars, which had been affected by the plague of beasts, making them more aggressive and giving them a taste for human flesh. Only once did he encounter one of these. He was with a group of other Hunters... they all returned, except he was the only one who did not return in a body bag.

Rabid Dogs were also a big threat. Once normal dogs that would help fend off the beasts, these poor animals had also been infected by the plague of beasts, and were driven to the point of insanity. Attacking anyone that dared to stand in their way… even their owners. These beasts were no laughing matter. If their teeth sunk into your flesh, there was almost no way of getting out.

But the most dangerous of all had to be the Scourge Beasts, or Werewolves, as some would call them. Scourge Beasts were once humans who, after being infected by the plague, transformed into these creatures. Scourge Beasts are known for their agility, acute senses, and a hunger for human flesh. They hunt in packs and are rarely seen stalking prey on their own. These terrifying creatures used to stalk Yharnamites in the old days, when the hunt was still young. Many fell victim to these beasts.

Gehrman had faced off against all of these beasts, slaying them one by one. He kept track of the different kinds of beasts on a small notebook. Not many knew this, but Gehrman was quite the artist. He could draw every beast he had seen as if it were standing right in front of him. But beasts weren’t the only things he drew. Maria, the woman he loved the most. Her beauty could not be captured in any drawing, but he tried. Oh, did he try.

Having been so lost in his thoughts, Gehrman didn’t notice they had already reached the Crystal Palace. Looking up at the humongous structure, Gehrman let out a sigh, feeling that this was going to be a long day.





Sleep had overtaken the Church Hunter. He was still tired from his encounter with Princess Cadance the other night, having stayed up for such a long time. The dream the hunter was having was one of many. He was sitting at his dining table, in the comfort of his house, together with his wife and daughters. The smiles on his daughter’s faces almost brought a smile to his.

“Would you like some mashed potatoes, dear?” asked his wife, Viola as she handed him the bowl.

Gascoigne nodded his head, smiling at her as he took the bowl. “You never seem to disappoint me, love,” he said, winking at her.

“Oh, dear,” Viola giggled.

Their two daughters, who were sitting across from each other, just shook their heads. 

“Mum,” the youngest daughter said. “I finished my plate. Can I go outside and play with big sis?” she asked, looking at her mother with hopeful eyes.

“Of course. But make sure not to go down into the sewers again. Last time you did that you lovely ribbon and clothes got so dirty,” Viola replied, smiling as her two daughters nodded their heads furiously. Getting off their chairs, the two daughters ran outside, giggling to each other.

“Dear, how has the hunt been going?” Viola asked taking a bite from her potato. 

“Same as always,” Gascoigne replied, shrugging. “We lost four of our men last night. They got too cocky, thought they could take on four beasts on their own.”

“And what of that terrible beasts on the Great Bridge?” Viola asked.

Gascoigne shook his head, rubbing his temples. “Chief Ludwig already dispatched his finest hunters to go after the beast.”

“Does that mean that… you know,” Viola gulped, sweat dripping down her forehead.

“No,” Gascoigne replied, shaking his head.

Viola let out a sigh of relief as she looked down at her plate, playing with her food. Looking back at her husband, she saw the distress and disappointment on his face. “You’re angry,” she stated, making him look at her. “Because Chief Ludwig didn’t assign you to the job,” she said, crossing her arms.

“For eight months I have served. For eight whole months I have dedicated my life to the nightly hunt. And for what? Hmpf, perhaps I should have joined the Powder kegs instead,” Gascoigne replied, gritting his teeth. 

“Those heretics?” Viola asked, raising an eyebrow at her husband. “You really considered joining them?”

“Well,” Gascoigne chuckled. “Their motto is: If a weapon ain’t got kick, it just ain’t worth it.”

“Just their way of speech disgusts me,” Viola said, shivering. “But I am glad you chose the honorable thing. I am glad you chose to become a Church Hunter.”

“So… am I.” Gascoigne replied, though there was hesitation clearly present in his voice.

After all, what good was the Church without the Old Blood?

> Chapter XX
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cadance paced in circles around her throne, a throne where she met the man that made her frightened of the dark again. She winced as a fierce, stinging pain coursed through her head, almost like it was about to explode from some kind of invisible pressure. Looking back at her wing, which was wrapped in bandages, around two layers of them, she cringed as she recalled all of the horrifying memories. She truly wondered how one could be as cruel as to do the things that creature did to her. What kind of sick, twisted motive must he have had? She had no idea the world could be this cruel. She was the Princess of Love for crying out loud! Her mere presence was enough to make any arguing couple halt their bickering. But alas, this did not count for the creature that attacked her.

When her husband had found her lying in her throne room, her body broken and her soul scarred for life, he was at a loss for words. His eyes were filled with fear while he rushed to her aid. He cried out for help, but no one came. Eventually a doctor came. Doctor Whooves, or something? She couldn’t remember his name, but she was grateful he was able to fix her up. Her wing was probably going to take most time to heal, since it was dislocated. The tissue was ripped and some veins gave in under the pressure. The amount of blood she lost was enough to kill a normal pony. But luckily for her, she wasn’t a normal pony… but still, it hurt like hell. What was even worse was the fact that she had to wash all of her blood out of her coat. It was all sticky and dried up at the same time. Absolutely disgusting.

Shining Armor had asked her if she could describe the creature as precise as possible, but that proved to be useless. She was in shock and was not able to respond to any of his questions. She heard what he asked her, but she couldn’t answer them. But what she did remember was every scream of agony she let out when the creature stomped on her again like it was crushing a bug. She remembered how her bones snapped, how she gurgled up blood, how she almost choked in said blood. All of those memories, they would haunt her forever.

‘Why?’ Cadance thought to herself, sitting down on her throne, gritting her teeth in pain as she felt her wing tighten up. ‘Why? What did I do to deserve this? How can somepony be so cruel?’

Closing her eyes, Cadance tried to force the memories out of her head, only thinking of pleasant ones. Like her wedding, or the day she got to foal sit Twilight for the first time. Yeah, those were the pleasant ones. 

“The Heart!”

Cadance’s eyes shot open as she glanced around the throne room, her breath quickening and sweat dripping down her forehead. Sighing to herself, she wiped the sweat off her forehead. She still couldn’t get it out of her mind. She wanted it to go away so much, but since it occurred last night… well, she just couldn’t. Had her husband been with her back then, things would have turned out differently. His voice still sent shivers down her spine, as she would accidentally recall it from time to time. It was so deep, yet so menacing. It was like all your fears were put into one creature, and it spoke with a voice so loud and terrifying, that anyone would freeze right on the spot. 

“Well, luckily for me, Twilight is coming for a visit,” Cadance chuckled to herself, thinking back to her sister-in-law. “What would I be without her?”

‘Dead.’

Cadance’s eyes widened as she frankly looked around her throne room again, trying to find the source of the voice. “Hello?” she asked out loud, waiting for a reply as she slowly got off her throne. “Is anypony out there?” she asked.

‘We are everywhere,’ the voice replied, thought this voice was unlike anything she had ever heard. It was like there was a faint echo after every word that was spoken. The voice itself sounded very low and very calm, yet equally as terrifying as the voice of the creature that attacked her. Though she did not want it to, the voice continued. ‘Mankind’s greatest emotion is fear, and the greatest fear is: The fear of the unknown. Tell us, child, are you afraid of what you do not understand?’

Cadance shook her head furiously, accidentally making the stinging pain in her head even worse. “Ouch,” she grunted, holding her head in pain. “What is going… on?” she asked.

‘Tell us, child, are you afraid? To you fear what is yet to come?’ the voice asked.

“I have no idea,” Cadance replied, slowly backing away from her throne, “what you are talking about. But I can assure you that I am not afraid.” she stated with much confidence.

‘You lie,’ the voice chuckled grimly. ‘You fear what is yet to come. Remember, they are born of the blood, mad men by the blood, undone by the blood. Their eyes are yet to open.’

“Fear the old blood.” Cadance finished.

…Wait, how did she know that?

‘A city lost, its populous gone mad; with one thing in their mind: Death,’ the voice said, seemingly getting louder as Cadance herself felt her heart skip a beat. ‘Will you let this happen to yours? Will you go mad?’ the voice asked.

Gulping, the Princess of Love replied to its question. “No. B-but answer my q-questions. W-where are you? What are you? And what exactly are you talking about?”

‘As the night falls, the creatures will come. The city was already lost when they upturned the grave of our kin. The humans, they brought this upon themselves. Suffered, they have. The nightmare, the dream, everything was their own fault. Now we ask of you, child, do you dare take the risk? Do you dare enter the unknown?’

“What fear of the unknown?” Cadance asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Who was talking to her? And why couldn’t she see the pony or whatever creature the voice belonged to? “What am I supposed to fear?”

‘That which you do not know,’ the voice replied.

“I get that,” Cadance deadpanned. “But what I don’t get is why you are telling me this. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but I have already been through enough. Please just leave and come back another time, or something.” She said, the pain in her head getting worse.

‘Tell us, did it hurt when you were beaten into a bloody pulp, child?’ the voice asked, chuckling grimly at the end. ‘He has tasted your blood. He will return. And there will be no one to protect you. Blood is what attracts him, what makes him stronger. Thanks to him we are here and are able to talk to you. Through your wounds our blood has entered. Fear our blood, child. Fear it.’

Cadance blinked in confusion, slowly backing up towards the throne room’s exit. She was frightened. He would return? Was the voice talking about the creature that attacked her? If so, then she would not leave Shining’s side for a very long time. But now Twilight was coming, along with her friends. Surely they would be able to protect her… right? She hoped they would, because another encounter with that creature would surely resolve to her death.





Sitting down on the concrete floor of his temporary hideout, Gascoigne rested his head on his hands, letting out a sigh as he closed his eyes. Today was the day. Today he would retrieve the Crystal Heart. Today the invasion of the Crystal Empire would commence, and he and Sombra would be victorious. He was a hunter, and Sombra a king. He knew what to do. Turning his head to the side, he looked at his axe. Blood. The blood of beasts stained his once clean axe. Reaching for it, he traced his hand over it, feeling the curves and engraves as he traces his fingers over it. This axe had saved his life countless of times, along with the lives of many other hunters. In secret, though, the hunter hoped that he could one day lay down his axe and Blunderbuss, so that he could live out the rest of his life in peace. 

Sombra promised him. He promised him he would return him to his family. He had a duty to fulfill, a duty the hunter would fulfill. He was going to make sure he would see his wife again! Even if it was just for a split second. To see her face, to be able to touch it, he would kill everyone to touch her one more time.

‘I will… I will return. I will not fail you, Viola. I will make you proud! I will make everyone proud! Your father, your mother, everyone!’Gascoigne inwardly screamed to himself. 

“When will you let us go?”

Gascoigne turned his head to his tied up hostages. Their mouths were dry and their bellies rumbled continuously. The stallion had fallen asleep, probably because of exhaustion; the same thing was probably going to happen to the mare very soon. 

“Once I have what I want I will let you go,” Gascoigne replied. “You’ll have something to look forward to. Once I have retrieved the Heart, the rightful king will sit upon his throne once more.”

“His throne?” the mare repeated in confusion. “You’re not…” she trailed off, eyes widening as realization finally hit her. “Are you a servant of king Sombra?” she asked, her fear of the creature increasing as she watched him turn his head to her once more. “Are you here to enslave us, like he once did?”

“Enslave?” Gascoigne repeated in confusion. “Why would a king feel the need to enslave his subjects?” he asked.

“You serve the evil king!” the mare said, glaring at him. “You are here to enslave us! Well too bad! Princess Celestia will stop him, like she did before! You will regret this decision!”

“Your Princesses?” Gascoigne spat at her. “They are useless. One is broken and will never walk again. I will make sure the others share the same fate as her.”

“What kind of monster are you?” the mare asked, tears forming in her eyes as she stared at Gascoigne in complete horror. “How can you be so cruel? Have you no emotions?”

As a reply, Gascoigne stood up and walked towards her. Getting on one knee to meet her one eye-level, the hunter placed his hand on the mare’s cheek. “You should not ask those kind of questions,” he said, waving a finger at her as a way of showing her she had done something bad. “It’s not very polite.”

“Buck, you!” the mare retorted. 

“You too, honey.” Gascoigne replied. “Just enjoy my company for now, okay?”

Standing up and turning his back to the mare, he walked towards the spot he was sitting at. Sitting down on the exact same spot the hunter grabbed hold of his axe once more. A smile spread across his face. He would get to hunt one last time.

‘Are you proud of yourself?’

Gascoigne’s smile instantly disappeared as he turned his head, wanting to know whose voice he just heard. He looked at the mare, who looked at him with a confused, yet angered expression. “Who’s there?” he asked.

“Who are you talking to?” the mare asked, only for her to close her mouth and keep it shut as Gascoigne growled at her.

‘A hunter is a hunter, even in another world. Such a shame you had to bring me with you, though it is not entirely unappreciated.’

“What are you talking about?” Gascoigne asked, getting up and holding up his axe. “Show yourself, you fiend!”

‘Even if I wanted to, I simply cannot. I believe it has been mentioned in the books of old. The books written by the humans who beckoned my kind. We responded and granted your wishes. You humans tried so hard. You all tried so hard to ascend to godhood. Your arrogance blinded you, and your race suffered the consequences of your ancestor’s mistakes. Amygdala, dead. Mergo, dead. Rom, dead. Ebrietas, dead. The spawns of Amygdala may still roam the city, but the original is dead. Killed by a hunter.'

The voice stopped, before continuing.

'And now it seems that I am the only survivor. For I was beckoned and granted the wish the one who beckoned me had. To make sure humanity would live long and prosper. To have them evolve into an even greater species. I have ascended to a level that no one can challenge me. I do believe Runesmith Caryll mentioned my name every once and a while.’

“… Oedon.”
> Chapter XXI
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oedon,” Gascoigne breathed out, clutching his head, accidentally smacking himself with his axe. Ignoring the self-inflicted pain, the hunter stumbled backwards. “What does this mean?”

‘It means nothing,’ Oedon harshly replied. 

‘Why? Why is it here?’ Gascoigne thought, shaking his head furiously. ‘It’s probably my mind playing tricks on me, it’s done that before, so it’s nothing new.’

‘It is not your mind that is playing tricks on you. I am here because you are here. I am here because you have the blood of old coursing through your veins. This world. This strange, clean world does not need its ‘streets cleansed’ like you, and many other hunters once said,' Oedon replied.

Gascoigne shook his head. “Why are you here? Your name has been mentioned by… someone, but how is it possible. Vicar Laurence told me that Great Ones answer when called upon, he told all of his fateful Church hunters. But how is it possible you are talking to me? How can they,” Gascoigne said, pointing his finger at the two ponies. “Not hear you?”

'None of you concern. You will never see your wife again unless you stop what you are doing.'

“But Sombra… the Great One… he told me. He promised me I--.”

‘You will listen to what I have to say,’  Oedon cut the hunter off. ‘I have been listening, wondering. This Sombra, he is not one of our kin. He is nothing more than an imposter. You have been deceived, forced to obey his will.’

“I obey no one,” Gascoigne retorted.

‘Then prove it,’ Oedon taunted.  ‘If Sombra is truly a Great One, then have him prove it.’

“How?” Gascoigne asked.

‘Ask him something only you know. He told you he would return you to your family, so that means he must know them. Ask him about your family, and uncover the truth. Only then will you see what you have become, and what you have done.’

“Wait!” Gascoigne exclaimed, holding his hands out. “Please tell me if my wife and children are all right. Sombra promised me he’d take me back, and I still believe him. But if you truly are as great as it was mentioned by the Choir and their followers, then please tell me: Are they all right?” he asked, a hint of hope in his voice as the hunter felt his heart ache for the answer he had been longing for.

‘I will be watching, like I always have,’ Came Oedon’s reply.

“No! Wait! Please, I must know!” Gascoigne shouted in desperation. 

This time, Oedon did not reply.





Gehrman and Shining, along with Twilight and the others walked through the halls of the Crystal Palace. Pinkie was humming a happy tone, while everyone else stared eye-wide at the palace's interior beauty. Taking a quick glance at Shining Armor, Gehrman noticed the black crystals around his horn. “Dear, oh dear, what happened to you?” he asked, getting the white coated stallion’s attention.

“What do you mean?” Shining asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Well, your horn,” Gehrman said, stopping in his tracks. “There are crystals everywhere,” he said as he got on one knee to meet the Prince on eye-level. “They weren’t there when we first met. What happened?”

“I… may or may not have done something incredibly stupid,” Shining admitted shamefully. “You see, when Sombra, or his shadow attacked us, it didn’t just go for you.”

“That was a shadow?” Gehrman questioned, scratching his cheek. “Looked more like smoke.”

“Either way,” Shining said, getting back to the subject. “For some reason—unknown to me, of course—the shadow was able to split itself. I had no idea that Sombra was that powerful. It might sound ridiculous but I think that Sombra’s evil, his dark energy might affect all that is good. You see, these crystals that are spread all across the Empire, it’s like they have a will of their own. When love triumphs, they will stay as they are right now. But should evil triumph, well… here’s the perfect example of that.” He said, motioning to his horn.

“So you got black crystals, so what?” Gehrman replied.

“It’s bad news. Sombra was able to split himself, who knows how much more he can do. He attacked me, and he would have gotten to twilight as well. I did what I could, but he was just too strong.” Shining admitted, looking down at his hooves. “Just between you and me,” he whispered in Gehrman’s ears. “Something broke into the palace last night and attacked Cadance. She’s all right, but I fear it might come back. It’s a miracle Cadance was strong enough to keep the barrier running. She’s such a strong mare.”

“Whatever attacked her, won’t be able to do it a second time,” Gehrman said with determination, getting up as he stretched his back. “Now let’s go.”

Catching up with their friends, who had not noticed them slacking off, Gehrman and Shining reached the throne room, along with Twilight and the others. Using her magic to open the door, Twilight was the first to enter. The rest followed, and their mouths went agape—except for Shining Armor and Gehrman—at what they were greeted with. There sat Princess Cadance, her body wrapped in bandages and her eyes almost closed from exhaustion. Trotting up towards her sister-in-law, Twilight shouted out her name.

“Cadance!” Twilight shouted, getting the attention of the Princess of love as she slowly got off her throne.

“Twilight,” Cadance breathed out, slowly walking towards her sister-in-law. “How are you doing this fine afternoon?” she asked, cracking a smile.

“What happened to you?” Twilight exclaimed in shock as her eyes scanned over her, observing every piece of bandage wrapped around her body. “Did you fell down the stairs, or something?” she asked.

Cadance shook her head. “I wish that were the case, but it’s not,” she replied, looking down at the floor in shame. “I was… attacked.” She admitted, looking at Twilight. “Some creature made its way into the palace and attacked me. I was unable to defend myself and it quickly got the upper hoof on me. I’m afraid, Twilight. Afraid that it might come back.”

“Don’t worry, Cadance,” Twilight said in a reassuring tone. “You’ll be safe with us,” she said, looking back at her friends.  

Cadance smiled at her sister-in-law. Glancing at her friends, her eyes widened when she laid eyes upon the creature that stood behind them. “Twilight,” she whispered. “Who’s your friend?” she asked, pointing her hoof at said creature.

“Oh,” Twilight replied, looking at Gehrman. “That would be Gehrman. He’s been with us for a couple of days. He’s really nice and polite.” She replied, motioning for Gehrman to come closer.

Gehrman happily complied, walking towards the Princess of Love. The clomping of his peg leg hitting the floor of the palace echoed through the throne room. Cadance could only watch as he walked towards her, towering over everyone inside her throne room. Looking up at the man as he finally reached her, she felt a lump in her throat as she recalled the creature that had attacked her. For some reason Gehrman reminded her of said attacker. But it couldn’t be. Why would her attacker be with Twilight and the other Elements of Harmony? 

“Greetings, your majesty,” Gehrman said, bowing his head respectfully. “I am pleased to meet you, at last. Though I wish it were under different circumstances. I do not know what happened to you, but all I can say is: I am terribly sorry your eternal beauty has been degraded to this level.” 

“Oh, stop it,” Cadance said, waving a dismissive hoof at him as a hint of red appeared on her cheeks. “I’m not that pretty. Besides, we have other things to discuss,” she said, her tone suddenly getting serious. Looking back at Twilight, she continued. “Twilight, I need to inform you about a few things my attacker said to me.”

Twilight nodded her head. Motioning for Cadance to continue, she levitated as scroll and a quill out of Gehrman’s left pocket.

“Hey, when did you put that in there?” Gehrman asked, checking his pockets for any other strange materials.

“Well, I was out of space so I figured you wouldn’t mind.” Twilight replied, giving him a cheeky smile.

“I cannot believe I did not notice,” Gehrman mumbled to himself. “Must be my age.”

Cadance cleared her throat, getting their attention. “Okay everypony, listen up. Last night I was attacked by a creature, a creature Gehrman over here shares resemblance of. It attacked me and questioned me. He said he was searching for the Crystal Heart. I do not know what the Crystal Heart is, nor does Shiny… but I think that it must be very valuable to him.”

“This is interesting to say the least,” Twilight commented, scratching her chin. “So the creature that attacked you looks like Gehrman. Perhaps it’s the same species? Hm, and the creature is looking for the Crystal Heart, but you nor Shining Armor have any idea what it is… perhaps we can find some sort of information?” Taking a glance at her big brother, she continued. “Is there any way I can get some information on the Crystal Empire?”

“I’m not sure,” Shining replied, glancing down at the floor. “Listen, Twily. Cadance is tired. She’s been beaten and broken. She is using every last bit of strength to keep the barrier up, but I’m afraid that it will not last forever. We have to find a way to protect the Empire, without having to use Cadance’s magic. But since Cadance is focusing on keeping the Empire safe and sound, and I’m keeping an eye out for any changes in the artic, we haven’t been able to gather information of any of the Crystal ponies.”

“Then we will have to retrieve said information ourselves,” Gehrman replied, getting Shining’s attention. “I to saw what was out there. A shadow. It talked to me. We need to act fast if we are to protect this Empire from total devastation.”

“What do you have in mind?” Shining asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“We search every corner of the Empire until we find something useful. Staring now,” he replied.

“Sounds good to me,” Shining replied, looking back at his little sister. “Good thing you decided to bring him along.”

“Don’t look at me,” Twilight replied, looking at her friends. “It was Spike’s idea to bring him along. He said that it would be nice, having another… male on the team.”

Bickering over who should go with who, Gehrman felt someone tug at his leg. Looking down, he saw that it was Cadance. Bending over, he spoke up. “What is it, your majesty?” he whispered.

“Listen, I am in no position to ask this of you but… would you mind staying with me and Shiny? I know it might seem pretty dumb but… well… I’m afraid Shining won’t be able to hold back another assault. I mean, just look at his horn,” she said, her eyes falling upon Shining’s horn, which was still covered in black crystals. “Please, just stay. You seem like a nice pony.”

“I believe the correct term is: Person. But if it’s what her majesty’s wishes, then I shall comply,” Gehrman replied. Clearing is throat loud enough to get everyone’s attention, the First Hunter continued. “Listen up everyone. I have decided to stay with Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor for their own protection. The rest of you will search the city for any information. But for your own safety, do not speak of the Crystal Heart to anyone. The creature that attacked Princess Cadance might still be out there, and it might start to stalk you to get any form of information. If he was able to enter the palace unnoticed, then he must be very good at what he does. So do not mention the Crystal Heart unless it is absolutely necessary.”

Everyone nodded their head in agreement. 

“We’ll do whatever we can, Gerrie!” Pinkie said, hugging the hunter tightly.

“I believe that, Miss Pinkie,” Gehrman replied, patting her back. “Now make haste.” He said, shooing her away.

The First Hunter watched as Twilight and the others left the throne room leaving only him, Cadance, and Shining Armor inside the throne room. An awkward silence soon followed. For what seemed like minutes no one said a word. 

‘Are they frightened?' Gehrman thought to himself. ‘It would explain why Princess Cadance asked me to stay at her side, but… what good is a huner who has nothing to fight for? My job was hunting beasts, nothing else. But now another human enters Equestria and attacks royalty for something said royalty does not possess. Hm, this is very peculiar.’

“Gehrman.”

Gehrman turned his head to face Cadance, who has called out his name. “Yes, what is it?” he asked.

“Let me ask you something: Have you ever been afraid?” Cadance asked.

“Why are you asking me this?” Gehrman retorted, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I just… I need to know if I’m not the only one. I feel so afraid all of a sudden. I’ve never felt like this before. Perhaps it’s because of the creature that attacked me, or perhaps it’s because of the threat looming over the Crystal Empire. But I just need to know: Have you ever been afraid, Gehrman?”

“In a way, yes,” Gehrman replied.

“What were you afraid of?” Cadance asked.

“I was afraid I might never wake up again,” Gehrman solemnly replied. “Since you feel this way, let me tell you that it is nothing special, nor strange. You are afraid because you do not know what will happen if you fail. You are thinking about the things that can go wrong, instead of the things that can go right. I have done the same… sometimes, I still do. But let me give you one piece of advice: Never let your emotions take over, for they will cloud your judgment.”

“But emotions are what makes one special,” Cadance retorted.

“When you are staring into the face of death, your emotions will no longer matter. Just let it all go and charge. Charge and do not look back. Only then will you overcome that what you fear,” Gehrman replied. “Now if you will excuse me,” he said, walking an exit. An exit that lead to a balcony. “I will be on the look-out for any form of danger.”

Slowly nodding her head, Cadance spoke up.

“Overcome what you fear. But what is it that I fear? Fear of the… unknown?”

“What was that?” Shining asked.

“N-nothing,” Cadance replied. “Nothing at all.”
> Chapter XXII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It is time.”

Gascoigne looked down at his freezing white knuckles. His almost sickening purplish veins were clearly visible, beast blood being pumped through them by a heart that is darker than the night itself. Slowly nodding his head, Gascoigne looked up at Sombra, his eyes hidden behind the pieces of bandages. “Will this plan be successful?” Gascoigne asked the evil king, earning a grim chuckle from him.

“Of course it will,” Sombra replied. “It is my plan, after all. Once we reach and penetrate the magic barrier that is preventing me from entering my Empire, we will commence our combined attack. We will head straight for the Crystal Palace without getting sidetracked. Whatever they say to you, whatever they do to you, you will run straightforward. Is that clear, Gascoigne?”

“You could not be any clearer,” Gascoigne replied. “What shall the body count be?” he asked, tapping his axe.

“Whatever pleases you. Once I gain control over the empire the first thing I will do is making sure there will be a successor to the throne… perhaps even two, if I feel the need for it.” Sombra replied, grinning wickedly.

“I see,” Gascoigne mused, shaking his head. “You never had a wife? Never had children?” he asked, getting Sombra to look down at him, confusion written on the king’s shadowy face.

“I never felt the need for it,” Sombra replied. “I thought my reign would last for all eternity. I always considered myself a force to be reckoned with, and I was… I still am. But everypony makes mistakes, right? Well, my mistake almost cost me my life.”

“And why is that?” Gascoigne asked, tilting his head. “From what you have been telling, it sounds like your Empire was taken from you.”

“And it was,” Sombra replied. “A long, long time ago, I was known for my unbendable will of steel. Nopony dread to oppose me. For if they did, they would be beaten into submission… or face the consequences of their betrayal. I was a stallion who did not talk very much. But I always got what I wanted, one way or another I always did. No matter who stood before me, I stood my ground.”

“But someone beat you into submission, right?” Gascoigne asked, crossing his arms as he felt the icy snowflakes of the frigid outskirt of the empire slice against his exposed face. Someone defeated you and they took what was rightfully yours.”

“If you call two against one a fair fight, then: Yes, they did take what was rightfully mine.” Sombra replied.

“There were two?” Gascoigne asked.

“Yes,” Sombra replied. “Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. Along with Princess Cadance; they are the only three Alicorns living in Equestria. One raises and lowers the sun, while the other does the same thing for the moon. Celestia and Luna defeated me… by fighting unfair and dirty. One attacked me from the front, while the other attacked me from the back. I held my ground but I was ultimately defeated. Those cowards are not only treated as royalty, but also as some sort of heroes. While in reality they are cowards. Oh what I wouldn’t give to fight against one of them. Just to see what the outcome might have been had it been one versus one. Then I would have won, I am sure of it.”

“Spineless cowards,” Gascoigne spat at the king. “I have faced against many foes. Normally they would try and overwhelm me by force, but I would never submit. I slaughtered them one by one. I killed them because they deserved to. Because it was my duty. But on some occasions I would get a fair fight. Oh I can still smell the scent of freshly cut meat, blood oozing out of it as I continuously slashed down upon my foe. I only stopped when I grew tired, or when my wife called me home. Then, and only then would I stop hunting. Heh, but I would never quit, much to my wife’s irritation. She always told me to stay at home… but I never listened. I always shrugged it off and went outside. I would meet up with my fellow comrades and we would hunt until we bathed in their blood.”

“Who’s blood?” Sombra asked in interest.

“The blood of old. The blood of beasts. Whatever name it has been granted, blood is still blood. And once you taste it, you will yearn for more,” Gascoigne replied. “And so did I. I still yearn for more blood at this very moment, but I try to suppress it. For should one be consumed by their lust for blood…” Gascoigne trailed off. “Then you will turn into an abomination that has no place in this, or any other world. And when that happens, others come to bring you down.”

Gascoigne looked down at his feet as he silently laughed at himself. “It’s funny once you think about it. It’s basically an endless cycle. You hunt, you taste the blood, you get overwhelmed by your bloodlust and you turn into a monster… and then another one hunts, fated to have the same outcome.”

“Quite depressing,” Sombra remarked. “I like it.”

Gascoigne turned around and looked off into the far distance. Having laid his eyes upon the magical barrier protecting the Crystal, he turned to Sombra once more. “The barrier will not stop me, and when it is destroyed, we will conquer.”

“We will,” Sombra replied. “Now make haste, Gascoigne.”

Nodding his head, Gascoigne turned around and started to walk away from the evil king. Was this the right choice? Perhaps not, but it was his only choice. A hunter must hunt, a hunter must kill, a hunter… must complete his mission. And he was about to do that.

‘So you are allowing your thirst for blood to take over. You would rather kill than to let live?’

“Get out of my head, Formless Oedon.” Gascoigne snapped at the form-lacking Great One. “I have a duty to fulfill. A family to return to.”

‘You would be satisfied, returning to your family as a cold-blooded murderer?’ Oedon asked, his voice full of skepticism.

“Cold-blooded? I like that,” Gascoigne chuckled as a reply, shaking his head in a dismissive, yet sarcastic way. “You see I have always been interested in hunting. Ever since I was a child my father always took me with him when he went outside, hunting for our next meal. You see my family was very poor, and unfortunately for them I wasn’t their only child. I had a brother and a sister, and we all had to fight for our lives. Every day was a new struggle for us. Sometimes our father would get home drunk; sometimes it’d be our mother. Heh, either way we always ended up with a few cuts and bruises... But that is what made me into the man I am today. That so called ‘cold-blooded’ aspect you mentioned earlier. Courtesy of my father.” Gascoigne chuckled grimly.

‘I see,’ Oedon replied, sighing to himself. ‘But what you are doing will not bring you any closer to your family. It will only be your downfall.’

“I have had enough of your failed attempts of talking me out of my mission,” Gascoigne said, gritting his teeth in anger. “Don’t try and talk me out of this. I will not stop until I have laid eyes upon my wife’s face once more. I will not stop until I can cradle my children into my arms once more. So leave me alone.”

‘Very well,’ Oedon replied, chuckling to himself, ‘But please promise me one thing. When you and the so called Great One: Sombra have concurred the Empire, please ask him this question: What color is my wife’s brooch?’

Gascoigne did not reply as he continued to walk forward. His eyes fixed upon the magic barrier, the hunter was filled with determination he quickened his pace.





Gehrman rested his hands on the railing of the balcony that he was standing on, his eyes fixed upon the empire as he scanned the area for any evil. It had been one or two hours ever since Twilight and their friends had decided to leave the Crystal Palace. The old hunter truly hoped that they would find something useful.

But something kept bothering him. It was the thought of another human in this world. Was it another hunter? Or worse: A human gone mad. Either way, Gehrman had to put them down if they posed a threat to either him or his friends. Friends… that word meant so much to him… he almost forgot what it truly means to have friends. Looking back at the balcony’s exit, the old hunter couldn’t help but overhear a conversation between Shining Armor and Princess Cadance. They were talking about a fair. Why they were discussing such a strange topic under these dire circumstances he had no idea.

‘Whatever it is, it is probably important,’ Gehrman thought to himself, smiling as he leaned on the balcony’s railing. ‘I am growing too old for this. I hope that when all of this is over, I might finally be able to get some well-deserved rest.’

Gehrman was shaken out of his thoughts when Shining Armor walked through the door leading to the balcony. Setting foot on the balcony, Shining nodded his head to Gehrman. Walking towards the hunter, Shining spoke up. “I have some good news. Twilight and her friends are preparing fair. Apparently this fair will bring out the love and light of the Crystal ponies and protect the Empire against the darkness. They’re preparing the fair as we speak,” he said, walking over towards the railing and peeking down at the Empire. “Matter of fact, I think they’re almost finished.”

“I see,” Gehrman replied. “So this fair will keep evil at bay? Quite interesting.”

“Indeed,” Shining replied. “Hey, Gehrman. Can I ask you something?” Shining asked, turning to Gehrman.

“Of course, Prince Shining.” Gehrman replied.

“How does your kind deal with evil?” Shining asked.

“Well, there are many ways we humans deal with evil. But the most common way—at least in Yharnam—is to hunt it down. We hunt down evil and when we finally find it, we kill it, ridding the world of it and making sure other are safe.” Gehrman replied.

Shining raised an eyebrow at the old hunter. “Is that the most common way of dealing with evil?” he asked.

“The evil in Yharnam is something that cannot be bargained with. No fair will stop this evil. The only way to stop it is to end its life. Prince Shining, in my days as a hunter I have seen many of my comrades—ones who I considered family—fall before my eyes. Maimed by beasts until their bodies were unrecognizable. What has happened to Cadance is nothing compared to the horrors I have seen. I had to tell someone’s wife that her husband had died, and that the only thing we were able to retrieve was his eye. Think about that for a second. Could you tell someone that a loved one has died, and bear to watch as they fall to their knees, bawling their eyes out in front of you as their hot tears stain the ground underneath them? Could you bear to watch someone fall apart from the inside?”

“It’s hard to give you an answer to that question,” Shining replied. “Since it has never happened to me. I’d have to be in the same position you were in that day to know if I have the courage to tell someone something that horrible.”

Gehrman nodded his head, understanding the Prince’s answer. “Trust me, Prince Shining. When you have done it one time, it eventually becomes easier. For me it became a daily routine. I never felt the slightest emotion, nor compassion for the woman who had lost their husbands… and I scolded myself every time it happened. Even when some of my hunters laid in my arms, drawing their last breath, asking me if they were useful for mankind, I did not show any emotion. I always told them that they were useful… but deep inside they all knew I was lying. I was just too blind to see it at the time. I loved my hunters, treated them like family, but something inside me died and… I just didn’t view them as family anymore. I viewed them as… expendable.”

“Wow, that’s… unexpected.” Shining commented, earning a chuckle from Gehrman. 

“Indeed it was, my friend,” Gehrman replied. “But I eventually regained my senses and felt compassion for a little while… I just wasn’t the same man as before, and everyone knew it.”

“I see,” Shining replied. Taking a quick glance at Gehrman’s hip, the young Prince continued. “Hey Gehrman, mind showing me that sword of yours?”

Nodding his head while smiling at the young Prince, Gehrman un-sheathed his Burial Blade. Raising the blade, Gehrman made a few swift, yet elegant slashes at the wind, his sword cutting through the air, sweeping noises coming of it. 

“Such beautiful craftsmanship,” Shining said in awe, staring at the blade. “Who made this?”

“I did,” Gehrman replied with a hint of pride.  

“Amazing. Simply amazing,” Shining said, never taking his eyes off the blade.

The slashing continued for a little while, until Gehrman noticed a lavender blur in the corner of his eye. Stopping his slashing and sheathing his blade, the hunter turned to the lavender blur. “Twilight,” he said, bowing his head to her. “How have preparations been going?”

“I have some very bad news,” Twilight said, teleporting the book which she had been carrying with her ever since she had found out about the fair and how it would fend off the darkness. Flipping through the pages, the young unicorn reached the last page of the book. “There’s a page missing,” she said. 

“Is that a bad thing?” Gehrman asked, raising an eyebrow. “It is probably the author’s note, or something.”

“No, it’s not,” Twilight replied, smacking her forehead as she sighed in frustration and defeat. “I know now what the Crystal Heart is. It’s not the fair that defeats the darkness; it’s the heart. The heart is fused by the power of the Crystal ponies. But we haven’t got it. We don’t have the heart.”

“Then we must find it immediately,” Gehrman said.

Before anyone could reply, a loud moan like roar echoed through the Crystal Empire. Everyone turned their heads to see the barrier fading away, revealing the frigid outskirts of the Empire. Shining rushed inside, already knowing something was wrong with his wife. Twilight soon followed him. Gehrman was about to follow as well but stopped himself from doing so. Placing his hand of his blade’s hilt, the hunter looked off into the frigid outskirts. There he saw it. The shadow from before. The evil king Sombra.

“So you have arrived,” Gehrman said. He was about to turn around and run down to fend off the threat, until the magical barrier suddenly reappeared, blocking out the evil king. Gehrman shook his head as he rested his hand beside his hips. The threat was gone… for now.

“Gehrman!” 

Gehrman quickly turned around and saw Shining Armor rush towards him. Panting heavily, the Prince spoke up. “Cadance fainted, but she’s all right now. Twilight is going to search for the Crystal Heart, but I fear that it might be too late. Gehrman, what I am about to ask you is something I would never ask anyone… but it has to be asked. Would you serve as the first line of defense against Sombra?”

“As the Prince request, I shall obey,” Gehrman replied, walking past the young Prince. “We just have to hope Twilight gets to the heart before Sombra does.”

“We can only pray that she will, Gehrman.” Shining replied.

“Do not pray for a miracle, Shining. It is what caused the death of many Yharnamites.”





Gascoigne stood in front of the magical barrier protecting the Crystal Empire. Looking up at the icy sky, the hunter nodded to himself. 

“It appears there is a slight change in plans,” Sombra said, appearing behind Gascoigne. “You will go in first. The barrier is still strong enough to withhold me from entering. Go to the Crystal Palace and find Princes Cadance. Once you find her, kill her and every single pony who tries to protect her.”

Nodding his head, the hunter dashed forward and ran through the barrier, ready to face off against anyone that dared to stand in his way of reuniting with his family.

> Chapter XXIII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gascoigne darted through the streets of the Crystal Empire. His heart was pumping blood through his veins at a speed he thought was impossible. His axe in his right hand and his Blunderbuss in his left, the hunter looked off in the far distance. He looked at the outlines of the Crystal Palace, which was becoming bigger and bigger with every step he took. Unbeknownst to him he had tightened his grip around his axe so much that his knuckles were staring to turn white. He felt warm, even through the snow that was covering his clothes had just begun to melt. 

For some reason the hunter felt like something was off, but he just couldn’t put his finger around it. Instead he kept running forward, ignoring everything… well, almost everything. Having been caught up with his constant running, the hunter had not seen the two Crystal ponies who were walking in front of him. Moments later he collided with them, sending them tumbling forward, while he landed face-first into the hardened concrete.

“You have to be kidding me,” Gascoigne mumbled to himself. Slowly pushing himself off the ground, the hunter felt a sharp pain run through his nose. Slowly standing up and bringing a hand to his nose, the hunter looked at his palm and saw that drops of blood were present on it. Though he knew there was blood on his gloves, this blood was not there before. No, this blood was fresh. Clenching his bloodied palm, Gascoigne turned to the two Crystal ponies that were also getting up.

“What was that?” one of them asked. Judging by the tone of the ponies’ voice, it was a mare.

“I have no idea,” the other replied, this one also being a mare.

Smirking to himself, the hunter raised his Blunderbuss and aimed it at the two ponies. One shot would be enough to seriously injure, or even kill them. Slowly brining his finger to the trigger, the hunter waited for the two ponies to face him directly. He wanted to see the fear in their eyes before he killed them.

‘I thought Sombra said not to get side-tracked?’ A familiar voice rang through Gascoigne’s ears, sarcasm dripping off its tone.

Gascoigne gritted his teeth and cursed underneath his breath. Turning around and ignoring the throbbing pain in his nose, the hunter continued his run to the Crystal Palace. “Get out of my head, Oedon,” Gascoigne said.

‘Get out of your head? Heh, I would if I could,’ Oedon replied. ‘But remember that you have the blood of old running through your veins, plus the runes you etched into your mind. As long as one has that, I will never leave. I cannot leave, nor will I allow you to continue this. You must stop, or I am forced to show you the truth. A truth that will tear you apart.’

“You are lucky you only exist in voice, Oedon. If you still had your physical body, I would tear you apart one limb at a time,” Gascoigne retorted.

‘What you will find will only lead to your own demise,’ Oedon warned the hunter.

“You are not as great as the Choir said you were,” Gascoigne chuckled. “You do not even know what runes were etched into my mind.”

‘Mine,’ Oedon replied, chuckling as well. ‘While it is true I lack form, I still exist. You know as well as I do that I am not the only Great One who you humans have beckoned. The School of Mensis, the Choir, the Byrgenwerth scholars, all of them communed with a Great One. They beckoned them, and they answered. But there is one thing they could never achieve, and that is to ascend to the level which I have ascended to. But unfortunately I am not as powerful as I was so long ago. And while I may exist within many humans, should those humans commune with one of my brothers or sisters, then I am forced to leave said human. But should that same Great One be killed, then I can return once more.’

“I see,” Gascoigne replied. “You still are trying to talk me out of all of this, aren’t you? Have you seriously not taken the hint? I will not stop until I am reunited with my family.”

‘Then you leave me no choice, Gascoigne. I must take matters into my own hands.’

And with that, Oedon’s voice disappeared, leaving Gascoigne to himself once more.





Gehrman stood on top of the balcony that allowed him to get a good look of the Empire. Looking down at the festivities below him, the hunter smiled. It all seemed so peaceful. Did the Crystal Ponies know of the threat that loomed over their kingdom, or were they just enjoying what little joy that was provided for them?

Shaking his head, the hunter almost scolded himself for letting these silly thoughts cloud his mind. He needed to concentrate. He needed to be focused. Grabbing hold of his Blunderbuss, the hunter looked at its loaded chamber. This weapon was powerful, the first of its kind to be precise. It had the ability to fire a shot that would stun any foe backwards, something that nowadays could only be achieved by applying Bone Marrow Ash to one’s pistol. But his tools were no ordinary ones. No, his tools were the origins of every hunter weapon ever created. 

Nodding to himself, the hunter attached his Blunderbuss to his back and turned around, only to be met with something he had never heard before. It was a voice, a voice he did not recognize.

‘Greetings, good hunter.’

Gehrman instantly turned around and looked around, frantically trying to find the source of the voice. “Who is there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘I am the voice inside your head. I am the monster that lurks underneath your bed. I am the one who exists only in thought, yet my image still continues to be seen. My runes etched into the minds of humans,’ the voice replied.

Lowering his head, Gehrman let out a long sigh as he felt his heart skip a few beats. His throat began to hurt as he felt fear take over. Tears were threatening to form into the old man’s eyes as he looked up at the sky. “I see,” Gehrman said, though it sounded like a whisper. “So the hunter failed, and you are here to return me to my eternal torment? Heh, well so be it then, I knew there was no escaping you.”

‘It seems you may have forgotten who I am. I cannot believe that the other hunter knows who I am, but the one who awakened me and many others from our slumber does not,’ the voice said, making Gehrman look up at the sky in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” Gehrman asked.

‘My name, good hunter. My name is: Oedon.’ Oedon replied.

“Oedon?” Gehrman repeated, only for his eyes to widen in shock as the name finally rang some bells. “As in Formless Oedon? The Great One who has been mentioned in the tales of old?” he asked, shock written over his face.

‘Indeed,’ Oedon replied. ‘I see that you have not forgotten about the existence of others of my kin. But how could you, when you have been captivated by one of my kin for so many years? Do not think I do not know about the actions of my fellow brothers and sisters. I know what she did to you, Gehrman, the First Hunter.’

“Why are you here? How can you be here?” Gehrman asked, his expression turning into one of anger. “Please, I beg of you, do whatever you want with me. But please leave this world for what it is. Do not let them uncover the dark secrets that I once did. Please spare them from such a fate. I would rather return to the Hunter’s Dream, than to be responsible for the downfall of an entire kingdom.”

‘Fool. I am not here because I chose to. I am here because you and the other hunter are here,’ Oedon replied.

“So there is another,” Gehrman said, shaking his head. “And where might this hunter be right now?” he asked.

‘Why do you think I am talking to you? The hunter is coming for the ones who rule over this kingdom. He has come to kill them, just as a hunter always does. Because in the end, isn’t that the only thing you humans are good at?’

“You are wrong,” Gehrman retorted. “But to discuss the nature of mankind is not why you arrived here, is it?”

‘The hunter is coming. You better head downstairs to meet him. Perhaps you can talk some sense into him. Oh, and please mention my name, I would appreciate it.’

Gehrman wanted to reply, he truly wanted to, but something kept him from doing it. Instead the hunter followed Oedon’s warning and quickly ran inside the palace. “Prince Shining, Princess Cadance, I must take my leave!” he said, standing in front of the royal couple.

“Why? Has Sombra arrived?” Shining asked, his voice full of concern.

“No,” Gehrman replied grimly, “I believe it is much worse.” 

Leaving the couple behind, Gehrman raced to the throne room’s exit. Opening the doors and running through the opening, the hunter un-sheathed his blade and grabbed hold of his Blunderbuss. He quickly reached the stairs that lead to the palace’s exit. Running downstairs, the hunter almost tripped over his own feet. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Gehrman finally reached the lower levels of the palace. Opening the door that he was standing in front of, Gehrman rushed outside.

“Quickly!” he shouted to every pony present near the palace. “Get away from here, now! You must all leave before it is too late!” he shouted at them, making them look at him in confusion as if he was crazy. Gehrman was about to shout at them again, until a familiar pony walked up to him.

“Gehrman, what in tarnation has gotten’ into ya?” Applejack asked, raising an confused eyebrow at the old hunter. “Why are ya screamin’ and shoutin’ at everypony?”

“Applejack you must tell all of these ponies to leave right now!” Gehrman replied, looking down at her. “Please leave, now.”

“But why?” Applejack replied.

Before Gehrman could reply, he was interrupted by a voice only he and another person could hear.

‘He has arrived.’

Gehrman slowly looked up, turning his gaze away from Applejack as he gritted his teeth. Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh before opening him again. There he stood. The man who had almost killed Cadance. The man who he had been speculating about. There, in front of him, stood a hunter. A Black Church Hunter to be precise. He had the usual bandages that covered his eyes, along with a Hunter’s Axe and Blunderbuss, which he held in his right and left hand respectively. For some reason this hunter seemed familiar to him.

Letting out a sigh, Gehrman slowly walked passed Applejack. His peg leg made clopping noise on the hardened concrete of the Crystal Empire’s ground with every step he took. Looking at the hunter, Gehrman spoke up, “May I ask what a hunter of the Church is doing in a place like this?” he asked, getting the hunter to slowly walk towards him. 

The ponies who were watching the scene unfold slowly backed away, like they were almost feeling the tension. They exchanged quick glances between the two hunters, though no one knew who they really were.

“I see I am not the only one who has arrived in this land,” the hunter called back at Gehrman. “Hunter or not, you shall not stand in my way. I must do this, so please stand down, hunter.”

“I am Gehrman!” Gehrman said to the hunter. “What is your name, friend?” 

“My name… is Gascoigne.” Gascoigne replied, shaking his head. “If you have any common sense then you will aid me in my quest. The rulers of this kingdom are not who you think they are. They have taken over this kingdom from its rightful ruler. Join me so that together we may be victorious!”

Shaking his head, Gehrman spoke up. “Really? And did that whole lie include you beating Princess Cadance until she could barely move?” he asked, tightening his grip around his Burial Blade.

“You have no right to call me out for my actions!” Gascoigne retorted. “I did what I had to do to ensure my safe return to my family. King Sombra promised he would send me back! So I will do as he says until I have retrieved the Crystal Heart for him! So I am giving you this one final warning. Stand. Down!”

“Oedon told me to talk some sense into you,” Gehrman replied, sheathing his blade. “And I will.”

“Fine then,” Gascoigne said as he raised his axe. “Then let today be the day you draw your last breath!”

And with that, Gascoigne charged at Gehrman, ready to strike him down with all of his power.
> Chapter XXIV
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gehrman could only shake his head in disappointment as he watched Gascoigne dash towards him, his speed almost matching that of his most prized students. But Gascoigne was not one of his most prized students. No, far from it. When he killed, Gehrman always prayed for his victims to be freed from the never-ending nightmare of being a beast. After all, beasts were once man. Taking a quick step back, the First Hunter quickly dashed behind Gascoigne. 

Gascoigne, wanting to finish off the First Hunter as quickly as possible, jumped off the ground and, while still in midair—turned around and smashed his axe down upon Gehrman… or so he thought. Gehrman, almost seeing through Gascoigne’s moves, had already taken another step back. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Gascoigne jumped upwards and extended his axe into its second form and slashed down, hoping that this extended form would beat the hunter. 

Gehrman, actually surprised Gascoigne was able to pull off such a move, rolled to the side, knowing he would not have been able to dodge this attack. “That was an excellent move, hunter Gascoigne,” he said, nodding his head as a way of giving him a compliment. “If only you could use those skills of yours for a greater good.” He said, shaking his head.

Ignoring the First Hunter completely, Gascoigne dashed towards him with his extended axe, wanting to impale the hunter with the tip of his halberd-shaped axe. When he noticed Gehrman was about to take another sidestep, he quickly retracted his extended axe, changing it back into its normal trick weapon form. He turned his head to Gehrman, smirking as he pulled his arm backwards and slashed at the hunter with all of his might. ‘Dammit,’ Gascoigne thought to himself.  ‘For an old man, he still moves as if he is only in his mid-forties. I’ve got to give him credit for that.’

“Take out your weapon and face me in combat you spineless coward!” Gascoigne ordered the First Hunter, releasing a continuous onslaught of slashes and stabs at him. “You are not even fighting back! I am your prey, as you are mine!” he said, lowering his axe to catch his breath. “So, come and cut me down, hunter of beasts.”

Gehrman said nothing as he glared at the hunter.

‘His blood has gone bad,’ the voice of Formless Oedon echoed through Gehrman’s mind. ‘You cannot keep evading his attacks forever. You must make a move.’

‘I will not kill him,’ Gehrman replied in thoughts. ‘I have shed enough innocent blood.’

‘Innocent,’ Oedon laughed. ‘He is not innocent, far from it. Why not ask him about his wife and daughters. That might actually knock some sense into him.’

“Hunter!” Gehrman shouted at Gascoigne. “What is your goal? What do you have your eyes set upon to start from the bottom again? To hunt, to kill, when you could live in peace. There are no beasts here, no more hunts. You can be free at last.”

“I would rather hunt for all eternity, just to see my family once more,” Gascoigne replied as he charged at Gehrman once more. Jumping upwards, Gascoigne slammed his axe I to the concrete, making it crack underneath the sheer force of power. Removing the axe out of the concrete, Gascoigne looked up at Gehrman, who, in return, looked down at him with a hint of disappointment in his eyes. Tightening the grip around his axe, Gascoigne got up, slashing at Gehrman as pieces of concrete and dirt flew into Gehrman’s face.

Stumbling backwards as he blinked and rubbed his eyes furiously, trying to get the dirt out of his eyes, Gehrman did not notice Gascoigne come up behind him. Lifting up his leg, he kicked the First Hunter forward, sending him tumbling to the ground, face first into the concrete. Running towards the hunter, Gascoigne raised his arm and was about to slash down at Gehrman again, but was stopped when Gehrman rolled on his back and kicked him in the gut with his peg leg, sending the Church hunter stumbling backwards as the air left his body with such speed that he almost lost his balance.

Shaking his head and regaining his posture, Gascoigne watched in amusement as Gehrman pushed himself off the concrete.

“I will pound you into the ground, old man,” Gascoigne said in a grim tone, walking towards the hunter as he grabbed hold of his Blunderbuss. Aiming the firearm at the First Hunter, he pulled the trigger, sending a barrage of scattershot Quicksilver bullets at him. 

Rolling to the side, Gehrman let out a sigh as he looked down at his sheathed trick weapon. Should he attack? Should he finish it right here and now? No. He was done killing.

“Too proud to show your true face, eh?” Gascoigne asked as he reloaded his Blunderbuss. “Well, I will make sure that you won’t regret that decision. I will end your misery and send you back to where you came from.”

‘End his misery, hunter,’ Oedon said to Gehrman. ‘He is suffering, but he does not realize it yet. He does not know of the fate that has befallen his family.’

‘Killing him will mean that I am no better than I was before. I trained men to be become killers. I will not become a killer myself again. I will never be able to put my past behind me, but I can at least try to stop him from going down a similar path.’ 

‘You will find out that his path and yours are two completely different things.’

Shaking his head, Gehrman looked at Gascoigne, who had already began to dash towards him again, “It is time to stop! End this madness at once, Gascoigne! It is over! The hunt is over!”

Gascoigne, ignoring the First Hunter’s pleas, extended his axe once more and ran towards him. Using the tip of his axe as a spear, Gascoigne attempted to impale the First Hunter again, but was again too slow as Gehrman simply sidestepped. Turning his head to face the First Hunter, Gascoigne fired his Blunderbuss at him, and, only moments later, retracted his extended axe and returned it into its normal state. He threw the axe at Gehrman, who had already rolled out of the way of his Blunderbuss’ shot. The axe managed to knick a few locks of Gehrman’s hair, but nothing more than that. Watching as the axe made impact with the concrete, Gehrman noticed too late that Gascoigne was rushing towards him. Tackling the First Hunter to the ground, Gascoigne raised his fist and he began punching down at the First Hunter.

Gehrman, shielding his face with his arms, tried to get away from underneath Gascoigne. But the Church hunter proved to be a bit too heavy for him to simply wiggle his way out of. Gritting his teeth, Gehrman used his right hand to land several successful hits on Gascoigne’s face. After a few more powerful hit, Gehrman finally felt Gascoigne’s weight had begun to shift. Taking this opportunity, Gehrman brought legs to his stomach and kicked the hunter off him.

“Gehrman, what are ya doin’?!” Applejack asked as she watched the man who Gehrman was fighting had already begun to stand up. “Are ya not defending yourself for a reason?”

‘Oh, Applejack,’ Gehrman thought to himself as he looked at Gascoigne. ‘If only you knew.’





Cadance and Shining Armor could only look down at the scene in utter shock as they watched Gascoigne dash towards Gehrman for – what they thought to be—the fifth time. Whatever was going on in Gehrman’s mind, one thing was sure: He was not going to fight back. This, however, got the concerns of both the royal couple. Why was he not fighting back? This… thing. Gascoigne. He had hurt her. He had hurt Cadance, and almost killed her. So why was he not fighting back.

“I don’t get it,” Cadance said, turning to her husband. “The one who attacked me, Gascoigne, seems to be doing his best to land a hit on Gehrman. But Gehrman on the other hand is not even trying to defend himself. All he is doing sidestepping and rolling out of Gascoigne’s attacks. We saw him carrying his blade when he ran down to face Gascoigne. So why is he not using it to defend himself, or stop Gascoigne’s attacks?”

“I wish I knew the answer,” Shining replied with a sigh, shaking his head as he looked down at Gehrman, who had already rolled away from another one of Gascoigne’s ‘jump and smash’ attacks. “That guy… Gascoigne, was it? Well, he seems to be fighting with the intention to… kill. But Gehrman is not fighting that way. The way I see it, is that he is trying to tire Gascoigne. Have him use up all of his energy, so that he can disarm and prevent him from brining harm to anypony else.”

“But still,” Cadance trailed off, “What if Gehrman’s timing is off? What if he gets hit?” she asked, turning to her husband once more with a look of angst on her face. “Gehrman might be trying to tire Gascoigne, but that constant dodging of his is going to take a toll on his stamina as well. It might not be long before Gehrman gets hit.”

“I don’t think so,” Shining retorted. “From my point of view Gehrman is way more experienced than Gascoigne. Meaning he can probably end this fight with one swift blow.”

“Then why isn’t he?” Cadance asked. “Why isn’t he ending it with one swift blow? Is he scared? Or is it something we don’t even know off.”

“We don’t know the history between those two. Perhaps they’re old friends?” Shining replied, shrugging. “Either way,” he said, “I just hope Twilight will return with the Crystal Heart as soon as possible. With Gehrman having his hooves full with Gascoigne, Sombra will have a free passage to the Empire.”

“From all this action I almost forgot we have two sources of evil we have to worry about,” Cadance said in a joking manner, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Yeah,” Shining replied. “But it does make you wonder: Who is the evilest? Sombra, or Gascoigne?”

‘It all depends on what is coursing through their veins.’

Cadance’s eyes widened when she heard that voice again. “Where are you?! Show yourself!” she demanded.

“Cadance, honey, is everything alright?” Shining asked, clearly shocked by his wife’s sudden outburst.

“I’m f-fine,” Cadance replied with a small blush on her face.

‘No need for words, child. Just think what you want to say.’

‘Alright. Who are you and why are you in my head?’ Cadance thought.

‘I already told you that, child. Your husband asked who is the most evil, did he not? Well, I have yet to see this Sombra’s true power. But I doubt it is as strong as to what Gascoigne has coursing through his veins. There is nothing on par with power with the Old Blood. My blood. Our blood.’ Oedon replied.

‘Our blood?’ Cadance thought in confusion. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You will find out soon enough.’





Gehrman felt some sweat drip down his forehead as he watched as Gascoigne took another run at him. Rolling into the hunter, Gehrman tackled him to the ground. Grabbing hold of Gascoigne’s abdomen, he threw the hunter onto the concrete. Shaking his head, Gehrman stood firm as he watched as Gascoigne got off the ground.

Straightening his back, Gascoigne breathed out a heavy sigh. He was not enjoying this. He needed to do something, otherwise he would surely collapse because of his lack of stamina. Looking down at his coat’s pouch, he nodded to himself. He was going to give it one more try. Should he not be able to kill Gehrman with this next attack, then he would use his last resort. A last resort he had been keeping with him for a very long time.

Running towards Gehrman with his axe held high, Gascoigne fired his Blunderbuss at the hunter. Watching as Gehrman rolled aside, Gascoigne jumped upwards and extended his axe mid-air and slammed down at the First Hunter. ‘This is it,’ he thought to himself. ‘In the name of the Healing Church, Vicar Laurence, and Chief Ludwig, I end your life, Gehrman.’

Gascoigne closed his eyes as he felt his axe slash down. He noticed there was a slight resistance before it collided with the concrete flooring of the Crystal Empire. Landing on his feet, Gascoigne opened his eyes, smirking as he had hit his target… or so he thought. Looking down at the creature he had hit, his eyes were filled with confusion as the small creature looked up at him with fear-filled eyes, clutching the wound Gascoigne had made with his axe.

Gehrman looked at Gascoigne, then at the creature he had hit. His eyes widened in shock when he finally saw who Gascoigne had slashed down upon.

“Young Spike, no.”
> Chapter XXV
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gehrman looked at his adversary, then at the one who he considered to be one of his first friends he had made in Equestria. If looks could kill, then Gascoigne would be dead by now. Rushing over to the baby dragon, Gehrman cradled him in his arms, holding him to his chest as he looked down at the dragon with eyes full of regret and sorrow. “Come on, boy, stay with me,” Gehrman pleaded as he watched Spike look up at him, pain clearly visible on his face as he clutched the wound on his abdomen. “Do not worry. Everything will be all right.”

Looking up at his friend, Spike spoke up through gritted teeth. “I just wanted to… help. Twilight… she… she told me to go back and help you. We found the Crystal Heart and--.”

“Save you breath, boy,” Gehrman shushed him. “Please, do not close your eyes.”

Gehrman’s eyes widened as he turned around and watched as Gascoigne’s axe closed in on him. Gascoigne, clearly not aware of the grave mistake he had just made, continued to slash at Gehrman. Gehrman, still carrying Spike in his arms, quickly shoulder bashed Gascoigne, sending him stumbling backwards. Running towards Applejack, who had been watching the scene unfold, he gently placed the baby dragon in front of her.

“Get him into the palace, or behind it. As long as he is safe from danger!” Gehrman ordered the mare, who nodded as a reply as she put Spike on her back, cringing as she felt drops of blood land on her coat.

Letting out a sigh, Gehrman turned around to face his adversary. He stood mere meters away from him, but Gehrman could smell the stench of the Old Blood in his clothes. They were stained with the blood of innocent men and perhaps even woman. Whatever Oedon was talking about, Gehrman could assure one thing. He would end Gascoigne’s suffering once and for all. Walking towards the Church hunter, the First Hunter reached for his sheathed Burial Blade.

‘So you choose to hunt?’ Oedon asked, chuckling to himself, ‘Very well, hunter. End this bloodshed once and for all. My kin has brought enough suffering. It is time to put an end to all of it. But please, hunter, don’t lose your way.’

Nodding his head as a reply to Oedon’s orders; Gehrman dashed towards the Church hunter. Un-sheathing his Burial Blade, he jumped upwards and slashed down at Gascoigne. Gascoigne, however, blocked the blade with his axe. Pushing Gehrman backwards, the hunter slashed at him, but his attack was met with one from Gehrman. The colliding of steel echoed through the Empire, alerting everyone of the battle that was unfolding. Gascoigne gritted his teeth as Gehrman dashed forward with speed he had never seen before. The Church hunter, clearly at a disadvantage, rolled aside to dodge a stab from the legendary Burial Blade. He extended his axe, wanting to keep his distance, and slashed downward at Gehrman, wanting to at least get a minuscule hit on him. But Gehrman saw through his attack and rolled through it, actually dodging the attack, which shocked Gascoigne up to a point where he froze for a few seconds.

‘What is this speed? Is this his true power?’ he thought to himself, eyes wide as he watched Gehrman run towards him.

Blocking another attack from the First Hunter, Gascoigne quickly jumped backwards. Aiming his Blunderbuss at him, he pulled the trigger.

“Two can play that game, filth,” Gehrman said. Grabbing his Blunderbuss and aiming it at the Church hunter, he pulled the trigger. It was almost if fate had it all planned out when the bullets collided with one another, only a few narrowly avoiding collision. Both hunters had already dodged each other’s bullets, not giving up as they both reloaded their weapons.

Gascoigne gritted his teeth in anger as he looked at Gehrman with rage filled eyes. Running forward, the hunter slid towards Gehrman, dragging his axe across the concrete while he still kept his eyes fixed upon his target. “I’m counting on you, old friend,” he said, looking at his axe as he pushed himself off the concrete ground. Slashing upwards at Gehrman, his eyes widened once more as Gehrman kicked his axe away with his peg leg. Rolling away from the first hunter, he suddenly clutches his side in pain. Turning his attention to the source of the pain, he noticed a deep cut running from his right hip to his back.

“How did you?” he asked, looking at Gehrman.

Gehrman smirked as he ran his fingers over his Burial Blade, wiping the blood off it. “They do not call me ‘First Hunter’ for nothing.” He replied, still smirking.

“It doesn’t matter what you’re called. I will ensure you’ll be laying dead by my feet!” Gascoigne shouted at him as he reached into his coat’s pouch. Holding the object that he had grabbed from his pouch, he removed the cloth that was wrapped around the syringe and injected the substance into his right thigh. Unleashing a scream of agony as he felt the Old Blood course through his veins, he looked at Gehrman, showing of his teeth as he tightened his grip around his axe. “I will not allow you to take what I hold dear to me! I will not fail them again! I will see them once more!”

“Don’t lose your way,” Gehrman reminded himself as he blocked yet another downward slash from Gascoigne. Pushing the hunter’s axe to the side, Gehrman fired his Blunderbuss at the Church hunter. The bullets, making impact with their target, shot through Gascoigne, some of them now stuck in his body. Clutching his abdomen, Gascoigne stumbled backwards. Coughing up blood, he shook his head furiously when suddenly Gehrman kneed him under his jaw, sending him flying backwards.

Gascoigne, now wounded and in a lot of pain, reached for another blood vile in his pouch, but was stopped by Gehrman, who grabbed hold of the hunter’s hand and twisted it, almost breaking it. Gascoigne let out a scream of pain and kicked Gehrman in his gut, sending the First Hunter stumbling backwards. Looking at his hand, he pulled at it, earning some sickening cracks as a result. “Kill you,” Gascoigne breathed out, watching in shock as Gehrman had already regained his strength and was already walking towards him. “I’ll kill you! I’ll devour you! Kill you! Kill you! I’ll tear you apart limb for limb! I will kill you!”

“I would like to see you try,” Gehrman retorted. Maneuvering his Burial Blade around his back, the First Hunter attached the hilt of his blade to the wooden back end; he transformed his trick weapon into its second form. This second, more deadly form would send fear down into the hearts of many hunters and beasts. But now, he would send fear down to the heart of a monster. “Come now, hunter. Let us end this fight.”

Jumping upwards, Gehrman slashed down at Gascoigne, successfully hitting the hunter several times. Blocking a few slashes from Gascoigne, Gehrman kicked Gascoigne backwards and slashed to his side. Gascoigne, barely fast enough to block the attack, pushed the scythe away from his side and threw a few punches at him. The punches were, however, blocked by the First Hunter with ease. Gehrman was not impressed. If this were truly the extent of Gascoigne’s power, then he would end this right here and now. Or so he thought. Having been so caught up in thoughts, plus the thought of Spike dying on his watch in the back of his head, Gehrman had not noticed that Gascoigne had his Blunderbuss aimed at him. His eyes widened when he heard the gun go off, and he winced in pain as the barrage of Quicksilver scatter shots impacted with his body. Stumbling backwards, Gehrman winced as he looked at Gascoigne, who was also wincing in pain.

“Clever move, hunter,” Gehrman said. “Very clever indeed.”

Gascoigne grinned at the hunter, his teeth covered in blood. “Your death will not be a quick one, old man. We are both wounded, but I am not going to die here. You are--.”

Gascoigne was cut off when Gehrman dashed forward towards him with speed that actually turned him invisible for few seconds. He felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. Looking down at his abdomen with a mouth filled with blood, Gascoigne chuckled to himself as he brought his hands to Gehrman’s Burial Blade. “I cannot believe,” he breathed out, grabbing hold of the blade as it cut deep into his hands, “that you actually managed to get a good hit on me, old man.” He said, pulling the blade out of his abdomen, surprised to feel no resistance from Gehrman. Falling to his knees, Gascoigne looked up at Gehrman. “I suppose this is where I beg for mercy, huh?”

“Go and rest for all eternity, hunter,” Gehrman replied. Turning his back to Gascoigne, Gehrman started to walk away from the Church hunter.

Gascoigne, clearly enraged at Gehrman, tried to get up, but fell to the ground with a big smack, making the pain he was already enduring even worse. Rolling onto his back, Gascoigne looked up at the sky… only to widen his eyes when he noticed the sky was no longer blue and peaceful, but grey and menacing. Chuckling to himself, Gascoigne let out a sigh. “I failed, Viola. I am so sorry.”

‘You already failed her a long, long time ago, hunter,’ Oedon said, his voice full of distaste towards Gascoigne. ‘I am surprised to see you kept your sanity in this fight. The hunter who bested you before Gehrman had to deal with the outer and inner you. After all, you were and always will be: A beast. You have mortally wounded a child. I can feel his life slipping away.’

‘You mean the lizard?’ Gascoigne replied in thoughts, chuckling. ‘I never liked reptiles anyway.’

‘Silence yourself you filth,’ Oedon hissed at him. ‘This fight, your fight is not over yet. You have one more chance to make up for your mistakes.’

‘Mistakes?’ Gascoigne replied. ‘Is it a mistake to do everything in your power to see your family again? Hunting is in my blood, but I will not rest until I have seen them one more time.’

‘The so-called Great One has arrived. Why don’t you ask him the question I told you to ask… Then you will see the truth.’

Oedon’s voice seemed to vanish, and Gascoigne was alone once more. Giving Oedon’s words some thought, Gascoigne slowly pushed himself up from the ground. His wound, now even hurting more than before was already bleeding pretty bad. It would probably get infected and he would probably die… or perhaps not. Reaching for his coat’s pouch, Gascoigne pulled out his third blood vial and injected it into his right thigh. Inhaling a sharp gust of air, he turned his head to Gehrman, who was still walking away from him. “It’s not over yet, old man!” Standing at his full height again, Gascoigne looked down at his wound. Damn, it still wasn’t healed up perfectly. No matter. He would finish off Gehrman with a little help. After all, what good is a hunt when you can’t share the bloodshed with another hunter? Or, in Gascoigne’s case, another Great One.

“It would appear you require assistance,” the menacing voice of king Sombra echoed through the Crystal Empire. Suddenly, the shadow of the evil king appeared behind Gascoigne, looking down at him with menacing green eyes. “In the past I already had troubles with finding useful slaves, but you are more useless than any of my previous slaves, Gascoigne.”

Those were defiantly not the words Gascoigne was expecting.

“What did you call me?” Gascoigne asked.

“I called you for what you truly are. A slave to a higher power. You will obey every—no, you have obeyed my every order up until now. You are a slave, my slave. Now, slave, kill Cadance and her husband Shining Armor.”

Gascoigne looked at Sombra. Nodding his head, the hunter started to walk towards the palace, but slowed his pace when he noticed Gehrman had already turned around, looking at him with menacing eyes. Gascoigne turned his head to Sombra. 

“Please answer me this, oh Great One,” he begged in a sarcastic tone.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, Sombra’s shadow seemingly nodded.

“What color is my wife’s brooch?” Gascoigne asked.

Sombra, chuckling grimly, spoke up and replied to the Church hunter. “Her brooch is green, just like her eyes. Eyes you will be able to see again very soon, once you complete your task.”

Nodding his head, Gascoigne walked towards Gehrman. This was it. This was where he would end it all. He would see his family again.

‘Do it,’ Oedon’s voice echoed through Gascoigne’s mind.

Stopping in his tracks, Gascoigne spoke up. “It is a pity my partner, Henryk isn’t here to join in on the action. We were a gallant, yet fearsome duo, the two of us. I never knew what happened to him. Is he still alive? Or has he been slain by either a beast or another hunter who has gone mad with the hunt? Or… did he went mad, and was he freed form the never-ending nightmare of hunting by another hunter? Perhaps Eileen? I do not know. But what I do know are the wise words he always gave me,” he said, turning around to face Sombra. “We can be Dreams if we may desire, but we can also become Nightmares ourselves, if need be. From our Prey's perspective, we are their never-ending Nightmare. And today, Sombra, your nightmare has just begun.”

With that said, Gascoigne ran towards Sombra and jumped upwards. With all of his might he would slash down upon his foe, and he would finally be freed from his own never-ending nightmare.

> Chapter XXVI
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Applejack stared down at Spike, sadness overtaking the mare as she held her hooves down on his open wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. Behind her stood Rarity, who was crying uncontrollably, fearing for the loss of her friend.

“Come on, Spike,” Applejack sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks. Turning her head and looking at Rarity, she spoke up. “Quick, get me something to stop the bleeding! Anything will do!”

Applejack turned her attention back to Spike, resisting the urge to let her tears flow freely once more. She had to stay strong.

“Spike, w-why? Why didn’t ya stay with Twilight?”





Twilight panted heavily as she and her assistant finally reached the upper level of the Crystal Palace. It had been quite the trial for the both of them. King Sombra was prepared in case anyone went looking for the Crystal Heart, and had laid many traps to ensure that no one would be able to reach the Crystal Heart. He was sure that nopony would even get close, but Twilight showed him otherwise. The door that showed her one of her greatest fears, the humongous staircase, she conquered them. And now she stood victorious on the concrete flooring of the highest tower of the Crystal Palace. 

“Spike,” Twilight said, looking back at her assistant who had just gotten off her back. “Looks like we did it. We finally found the Crystal Heart!” she exclaimed, pointing her hoof at the object in question.

Spike looked at the Crystal Heart, which was being held in the air by some kind of magical force. Eyes widening, Twilight couldn’t help but smile as she walked towards the heart. “I’m surprised,” she said.

“Surprised about what?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Well it’s just that… this is a powerful magical artifact. It should have at least been guarded by something, or there should be traps surrounding the heart… but there are none. No traps, nopony guarding the heart, nothing,” Twilight replied, turning to face Spike. “I feel like this all went a little too easy.”

“Easy?” Spike repeated in confusion. “We searched for such a long time, remember? To be honest, I’m enjoying this easy access, Twilight.”

Twilight shook her head, chuckling as she turned her attention back to the Crystal Heart, “I guess you’re right.” Finally reaching the heart, Twilight used her magic to levitate the heart towards her. Smiling to herself, Twilight turned to Spike. “Now let’s get this thing back to--.”

Before the lavender mare could continue, she was cut off by crystals. Huge black crystals pillars that shot out of the floor, quickly holding out her hooves and grabbing hold of the Crystal Heart, she closed her eyes and braced for impact. Colliding with the hard crystal “prison”, Twilight rubbed her side, wincing in pain as she looked down at the Crystal Heart. Clutching the heart to her chest, Twilight spoke up.

“I think we spoke too soon, Spike,” she said, shaking her head. “No cage is going to stop me from saving the empire!”

Confidence overtook the unicorn mare as she looked at the crystal prison that had captured her. Closing her eyes, Twilight concentrated all of her magic to cast a teleportation spell. Her horn lit up and seconds later she was outside the prison, only to be teleported back into the prison. Colliding with the crystals once more; Twilight fell to the ground, wincing in pain. 

“You have to get out of there, Twilight! You have to be the one to bring the Crystal Heart to Princess Cadance! If you don’t, you’ll fail Celestia’s test!” Spike said to her.

“But King Sombra is already attacking the empire. He could reach the Crystal Ponies at any moment,” Twilight said, looking out of her prison, eyes widening when she saw the barrier protecting the empire blink, ready to fade away. “We… no, you need to bring the Crystal Heart to Princess Cadance!”

“N-No, I can’t do that,” Spike retorted. “You’ll fail your test! You have been preparing for this for such a long time!”

“This is more important than a test, Spike!” Twilight said to him. “Listen, you’re the one who has to bring the Crystal Heart to Princess Cadance. Just take the heart and go, Spike!”

“No, I have a better idea!” Spike retorted as he ran towards the set of stairs he and Twilight had climbed just minutes ago. “I’ll go get Gehrman, he’ll know what to do!”

“Spike, wait! It’ll take too long!” Twilight shouted at him. “If you’re going to get Gehrman you might as well take the heart with you!” she said, throwing the Crystal Heart out of the cage. “Take it and run like crazy!”

Before Spike could speak up, dozens of tiny crystals began to erupt from the ground and started making their way over towards the baby dragon. Pushing aside his fears, Spike looked at Twilight and nodded his head and grabbed hold of the Crystal Heart. He then turned around and quickly made his way to the staircase. Sparing one final glance at Twilight, Spike ran down the humongous staircase. Unbeknownst to him, however, the crystals had now blocked the entrance to the tower, preventing anyone from reaching Twilight. It was going to take him a long time to reach Gehrman… but luckily for him someone would be buying him as much time as he needed.

Twilight let out a long sigh of relief when she watched Spike make his way down the staircase. Lowering her head, she stared up at the ceiling of the tower. Something big was about to happen. King Sombra was closing in on the empire, and without the Crystal Heart everything would be lost. The empire would fall into the hooves of the evil king once more, and the Crystal ponies would become slaves under his rule. And knowing what Princess Celestia and Princess Luna had done to him in the past… Sombra would not be satisfied until he had concurred all of Equestria. But she was not about to let that happen. Even though she was stuck in this prison, she still made sure that the Crystal Heart would reach Princess Cadance… even if that meant putting all of her trust into her assistant.

“I know you can do it, Spike,” Twilight said to herself. “You’ll save the day.”

Spike panted heavily as he ran down the humongous staircase. This was not going too well. He still had a long way to go. He looked down at the Crystal Heart that he held in his claws… strangely enough it was bigger than he had first anticipated. Stopping to catch his breath, he looked down at the many set of stairs he had yet to descend. Shaking his head, he continued running and, while stepping on another stair, accidentally tripped over his own legs. 

“This,” Spike said through grunts of pain as he literally rolled down the stairs. “I’m defiantly going to feel in the morning.”

The baby dragon continued rolling down the many set of stairs, clutching the Crystal Herat tightly to his chest. He closed his eyes and prepared for the worst… the worst being falling off the stairs and plummeting down to the ground. For what seemed like minutes the young dragon feared for his life. The thought of him dying, failing the task Twilight entrusted him with hung over his shoulders. But then, as if fate itself came into play, it stopped. Spike opened his eyes, blinking several times to see if they were not deceiving him.

“Wow,” Spike said to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “This has got to be my lucky day. Now only if it worked like that with Rarity.”

Walking towards the enchanted door, the door that had showed him one of his worst fears, Spike stepped through it and looked up at yet another staircase. 

“I forgot about that one,” he said to himself. “Well, at least you can’t fall upstairs... I hope.”

Running up staircase, Spike’s mind began to play out different scenarios of what could happen should he reach Princess Cadance in time. These scenarios mostly consisted of the usual good outcome. But then it hit him. What if the outcome turned out to be something different than he—and probably everyone else—would have thought? What if Sombra got his hooves on the Crystal Heart? Sombra would probably go after Cadance first, then Shining Armor, and then Twilight… and he would eventually get to him to. The thought of Sombra towering over him, looking down at him with those rage-filled green eyes frightened Spike. 

But then there was the other one. The human as Gehrman had described him. Another hunter. What this hunter had done to Princess Cadance was horrifying. This hunter probably worked together with king Sombra. That’s probably the reason he attacked Cadance. He wants the Crystal Heart so that he can deliver it to Sombra.

“Not on my watch,” Spike said to himself, determination filling his heart as he finally reached the end of the staircase the large square entrance that Twilight had created with the use of her magic was still present. He looked around the throne room, then at the Crystal throne. Adrenaline was flowing through his brain. His mind was clouded for some reason. If anything, Princess Cadance would probably be on the palace’s balcony.

“But she’s too weak. She can’t even keep up the barrier anymore,” Spike said to himself. Letting out a sigh, Spike began to head towards the massive set of doors that would lead him out of the throne room. “Shining Armor is probably outside or something, trying to hold off King Sombra… Gehrman must be there too.”

Gehrman, of course! If anything he could deliver the Crystal Heart to Shining Armor! 

“I bet he’s waiting for me!” Spike said.

For what felt like hours, while in reality it were just mere minutes Spike ran as fast as he could. His heart rate was far above the average and it was still increasing. Spike had never felt this exhausted. But wanting to be the hero comes with a price, as he was about to find out. Spike finally reached the plaza of the Crystal Empire. Looking around, he tried to find any of his friends for help. That’s when he saw it. Or rather, him.

It was Gehrman… fighting against someone. Spike’s eyes widened in shock as he watched his friend dodge an attack from—what appeared to be—a huge axe. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, but Spike could almost feel the vibrations when the axe made impact with the concrete flooring of the Crystal plaza. It was then at this moment that Spike pushed aside all of his fears. He had already come this far! He would not see his friend get hurt. Placing the heart against one of the pillars of the Crystal Palace, Spike ran towards Gehrman in a desperate attempt to get his attention. He wasn’t stupid. He knew who Gehrman was fighting. The hunter that hurt Princess Cadance. Spike quickened his pace, his chest beginning to sting from the amount of pressure he had put on his lungs. He almost smiled when he watched Gehrman jump backwards and land a few meters away from him, his back turned to him.

“Gehrman!” he called out to his friend. “I found it! I found the Crystal Heart!”

His words fell on deaf ears, however as he watched Gehrman roll aside. Spike tilted his head in confusion. Was Gehrman that caught up with fighting that he simply did not hear him? Waning to call out for him again, Spike opened his mouth to speak up, but was silenced by an axe that sliced him down from his shoulder to his waste. Spike looked at the person that had so attacked him so mercilessly struck him down. His eyes widened when the person in question looked at him. Though the baby dragon could not see the person’s eyes, he could see that he was equally as shocked as he was. It was at this moment that Spike stumbled backwards and could hear the faint voice of Gehrman call out to him.





Gascoigne let out a grunt as his axe slashed through Sombra, impacting with the concrete instead of flesh and bone. “What is this?” Gascoigne asked Sombra, dashing backwards. “What are you up to?”

Sombra merely chuckled as a reply, slithering his way over to Gascoigne. “What part,” he whispered in Gascoigne’s ear, chuckling as Gascoigne desperately slashed at him, “of ‘I am a shadow’ do you not understand?”

Gascoigne gritted his teeth as he rolled through Sombra’s shadow form. Reaching for his Blunderbuss, Gascoigne aimed it towards him and pulled the trigger. He watched as the Quicksilver fragments impacted with the shadow. Reloading his weapon and preparing to take aim once more, Gascoigne was stopped by Sombra, who had wrapped part of shadow around his wrist. He slashed down at the shadow in a desperate attempt to free his arm, careful not to hit his own wrist while doing so. The shadow was cut unto two separate pieces, but reattached to one another in just mere seconds. This reminded Gascoigne of some of the experiments the Healing Church had performed on humans. He remembered his cut skin and tissue reattaching in mere seconds. But that was because of the use of the Old Blood coursing through the person’s veins, and Sombra did not have a single drop in his.

“What kind of witchcraft if this?” Gascoigne asked in anger, trying to pull his wrist out of Sombra’s iron grip.

“Witchcraft?” Sombra repeated, laughing as he lifted Gascoigne up off the ground. “This is magic! My  magic!” he shouted.

Gascoigne let out a gasp as he was thrown into the air. He looked at the ground, which became smaller and smaller with every second. He closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. This was going to hurt like hell. Gascoigne felt himself stop midair, and then felt gravity do its thing, pulling him back to the surface. Gascoigne opened his eyes and looked at the ground, which was now becoming bigger with every second. “This is not going to end well,” he said to himself.

“Indeed it isn’t.”

Gascoigne turned his head, only for him to realize a bit too late that Sombra had emerged behind him. He watched as Sombra wrapped himself around his body, and, with much force, slammed him down into the concrete flooring of the Crystal plaza, creating a large round crater in the process. Dust, debris, the Crystal ponies had to take cover from all of it. Even Gehrman, who was watching the scene unfold from a safe distance, covered his eyes.

Sombra merely laugh in amusement as he made his way out of the crater, his humongous shadow looming over the crater. “Oh,” he said. “Still have some energy, huh?”

Gascoigne’s gloved hands were the first things to reach and latch on to the crater’s edges. The hunter pulled himself out of the crater, his ribs cracking and blood oozing out of his abdomen. Coughing, Gascoigne ran his tongue over his teeth and spit out the pieces that had been cracked due to the colliding of his face and hardened concrete. He pushed himself up, resting his hand on the upper right side of his chest for support. His body hurt like hell, and the fact that the wound Gehrman had inflicted on him had begun to bleed yet again was not helping.

“You’re lucky,” Gascoigne said. “That I’m beginning to get tired.”

“Is that so?” Sombra asked, maneuvering himself around Gascoigne.

Gascoigne turned his head, following the king’s every move. “Yeah,” he said, raising his axe. “But I’d rather die by my own hand than to be bested by a king who got his ass handed to him by two ladies in royal regalia.”

That struck a nerve.

How dare he say such things! Did he not know who he was talking to?! King Sombra, rightful ruler of the Crystal Empire and soon to be king of Equestria! 

Sombra, now even more aggravated than he already was, slithered his way around Gascoigne’s and pulled, making the hunter fall face-first into the concrete as he was dragged across the ground. Slamming him into the ground several times as if he was nothing more than a colt’s action figure, Sombra finally released Gascoigne, slamming into the ground one last time before turning his attention to the other human.

“So we meet again,” Sombra said, moving towards Gehrman.

“It appears so,” Gehrman replied, his arms still crossed. “Had your fun?” he asked.

“Oh it was fun alright,” Sombra replied, chuckling to himself. “Now how about you step aside so I can retrieve what is rightfully mine.”

“How about we just get to the part where we fight?” Gehrman suggested, reaching for his Burial Blade.

Sombra was about to reply, but was stopped when he heard chuckling behind him. His eyes were filled with confusion, but that quickly changed to annoyance when he saw Gascoigne stand in front of him. Letting out a sigh, the king spoke up. 

“I must say that I’m impressed,” Sombra said. “You should have died when you first collided with my empire’s ground, but yet you survived. Whoever this Viola is you kept talking about must be very happy to have met somepony as strong as you. And Viola must mean a lot to you as well. But alas, you will not be able to see her again.”

The king erupted in a fit of maniacal laughter, which echoed through the Crystal Empire. “I still cannot believe that you believed my every word! What a fool you are!”

Gascoigne merely shook his head as he opened his mouth, blood dripping out of it. “Hold your tongue,” he said. “The dead do not speak! Do the dead dare walk before MY eyes?”

“Is that a threat?” Sombra asked. “Even when staring into the face of death you still have courage left inside that heart of yours. Why? Why do you keep persisting when you have clearly lost this battle?”

Gascoigne could only shake his head as he grabbed hold of and removed his hat. Wiping the dust and pieces of rubble off it, he placed it back on his head. “Tell me, Sombra, do you believe that there is someone up there? Someone who is far greater than you could ever be?”

“Of course not,” Sombra replied. “I am already at the peak of my power. And when I have my Crystal Heart that power will be doubled!”

Gascoigne slowly nodded his head, but continued nonetheless “There are many beliefs out there, you know?” he said, getting the attention of both Sombra and Gehrman. “Many believe in blood, and so did I. But I will never abandon my true belief. I will stand proud in front heretics like you!”

“What are you talking about?” Sombra asked, genuinely confused.

“We are soldiers in the service of death, who bow our heads in reverence to our Lord, and whose prayers are found in the withered bodies of our enemies!” Gascoigne roared as he dashed towards Sombra, his axe flashing in the rays of sunlight. “I shall strike you down, heretic.”

Sombra merely rolled his eyes as he grabbed hold of Gascoigne’s arm. “Tell your so called ‘Lord’ that you failed.”

Gascoigne roared in agony as Sombra twisted his arm backwards, stopping when a loud crack could be heard. Sombra then proceeded to throw Gascoigne into one of the Crystal Palace’s pillars. He watched as Gascoigne’s motionless body fell to the floor. Happy with the outcome, Sombra turned to Gehrman.

“Now where were we?” he asked.

Gehrman let out a sigh as he turned to Gascoigne. “Evil beaten by an even greater evil,” he said, turning to face Sombra once again. “How fascinating.”

“Hold your tongue, old man.”

Gehrman turned his head, his eyes widening as he watched Gascoigne trying to get up. ‘How is he not dead?’ Gehrman asked himself. ‘He should have bled out minutes ago and yet he still stands. Could it be because of the Old Blood, or could it be that his belief in the Lord is actually helping him resist death itself?’

“Why won’t you stay down?” Sombra asked, ready to move towards Gascoigne.

“Stop right there you heretic,” Gascoigne said, his good arm resting on his axe for support. He then motioned to an object that lay beside him, “Or else this thing will be broken into even tinier bits than my own ribs already are,” he said, resting the tip of his axe over the Crystal Heart.

> Chapter XXVII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

For many years Gascoigne had fought against dangerous creatures. Whether it be beasts or Yharnamites infested with the beast plague, on the brink of losing their sanity, yet still sane enough to see hunters as their number one enemy. It made little to no difference to him. They were his enemy and they needed to be dealt with accordingly. Though he was never one to leave a job unfinished, he did, on multiple occasions, leave the hunt unfinished to return to his family. 

But when growing too accustomed to the hunt, man forgets what it is he treasures the most.

Gascoigne looked at Gehrman, and then at Sombra. His axe was inches away from the Crystal Heart, and his body hurt like hell. But he would not retreat. For he was a tool of God. An instrument for his divine wrath on Earth—or rather, those who oppose and defy him. The Healing Church could go to hell for all he cared. God was with him, and that was all he needed for now. With God by his side he would not lose. He would not cower in the face of darkness. And in his eyes, Sombra was that darkness.

“It would be wise to lower your axe,” Sombra said, his voice showing hints of concern for his Crystal Heart. “Preferably away from my Crystal Heart.”

“Like I said before: the dead do not speak, Sombra. Hold that tongue of yours, lest I have to cut it out.”

Gehrman turned his head to look at Gascoigne. The wounds Sombra had inflicted on him were bad, very bad. He should have collapsed from the loss of blood minutes ago and yet he did not. The Old Blood could heal injuries, yes, but it would take time for the human body to heal. And Gascoigne was running out of time. Every hit he landed on Sombra had no effect on the evil king. It was like the king himself was immune.

Gascoigne grunted as he felt his ribs began to hurt even worse than before. He was no stranger to pain, but enduring this much pain was really taking a toll on him. He wanted to kill Sombra. Not only because of his lies and how he deceived him, but also because of the fact he took away his chance to meet up with his family again. 

But the hunter had no idea what to do. He had no idea how to defeat Sombra. He was never one to delve into the Arcane, so he could not use any of those tricks. He only knew how to hack and slash… for that is all that he really did. Thinking back, he wished he had never left his home. He should have stayed. He was Father Gascoigne. Proud Healing Church hunter, but most of all: A servant of God. Now if only he could figure out a way to defeat Sombra. He had to use his head and think. 

His thoughts were interrupted, however, when Sombra grabbed hold of his leg and dragged him across the concrete. Gascoigne had little time to react as he grabbed hold of the Crystal Heart. He instantly wanted to slash his axe down upon it, but realized it was no longer in his hand. He had dropped it.

Great.

His body was lifted up and the Crystal Heart was snatched from his hand. Sombra laughed manically as the evil king now took possession over the magical artifact. Now he would finally return to his full power. His shadow started to vanish, and his own body took form. Gascoigne was dropped to the ground and rolled towards the palace, the last of his ribs making sickening cracks as the hunter came to a halt.

This hurt. This hurt a lot. Using another blood vial would not help him. His wounds were far too severe and his bones were broken beyond repair. Even when he was at his peak he could not defeat Sombra. But Sombra had not been playing fair with him. No matter how many times he had tried to hit Sombra it would never seem to affect the evil king. Even though man versus beast was never a fair fight to begin with, Gascoigne still trained to become stronger. But Sombra… he was on a completely different level.

Gascoigne looked at Sombra, whose shadow had completely vanished into thin air, revealing a black-coated unicorn standing where the shadow once stood. 

Sombra smiled wickedly as he levitated the Crystal Heart in front of his face. Finally. Finally he was at his full potential. Finally he could have his revenge. He felt his power increase immensely. The power of his Crystal Heart was no pushover, and he would make the best use of it.

‘It would seem you are in quite the pickle,’ the voice of Oedon echoed through Gascoigne’s mind.

‘What is it that you want, Oedon? Come to laugh at me? Have you come to tell me you were right and I was wrong?’ Gascoigne thought back, wincing in pain when he moved his body a bit too much. ‘If so then please leave. I no longer need the help of your kind. I have my master, and he is not as weak and manipulative as you are.’

‘Manipulative?’ Oedon repeated sarcastically. ‘The so-called Great One Sombra was the one who manipulated you. You believed everything he told you. Your family, did you honestly think you would be able to see them again?’ Oedon asked, earning a grunt from Gascoigne as a reply. ‘I can show you something. I believe it will help you clear that mind of yours. Your questions will be answered, but the answers you will get will not be pleasant.’

Gascoigne blinked in confusion before he felt something hit him on the back of his head. The hunter collapsed to the ground and his body went numb. 

Gehrman turned his head to Gascoigne, shaking his head in slight disappointment. In truth he had thought that the Church hunter would have gotten up, perhaps even using another blood vial to help him stand and continue fighting. But now that Gascoigne had succumb to his wounds it was up to Gehrman to finish where the Church hunter had ended. Defeating Sombra would perhaps prove a greater challenge than Gehrman had first anticipated, but Sombra was not in his previous form. It appeared that Sombra had turned into a pony. A normal, yet menacing looking pony.

“So it appears the king finally shows his true self?” Gehrman called out to Sombra who, in return, smirked wickedly as he glared at Gehrman. 

“And it appears you have to be taught a lesson.” Sombra said, his eyes shifting towards Gascoigne. “My slave, how foolish of you that you actually thought you would be able to stand a chance against me. You were determined, I will give you that, but sometimes determination is not enough to win a war.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

Sombra’s eyes widened in shock—something he had not expressed nor felt in a long, long time. Gehrman stood in front of him, Burial Blade in one hand and Blunderbuss in his other hand while he stared down at Sombra with a neutral, yet menacing gaze that made the king rethink his little speech from before. Before the king could react he was kicked by Gehrman’s peg leg. The wooden surface colliding with Sombra’s cheek made the king wince in pain as he was sent flying backwards. 

Sombra shook his head and groaned in pain. The fact that he was seeing stars made him realize he was not dealing with someone as brute and—in some way, clumsy as Gascoigne was. Gehrman was definitely on a completely different level than Gascoigne, of that he was certain. Turning his gaze forward to Gehrman, Sombra grinned.

“I must say that I am impressed,” Sombra said, inhaling a gush of air. “But I will not go easy on you. You are just one obstacle in my way to victory. And you will be dealt with accordingly.”

“In all honesty I was not even trying,” Gehrman said, running his index finger across the edge of his Burial Blade. “I am far more powerful than your former adversary.”

“Then shall we put that to the test?” Sombra asked, smirking as he powered up one of his spells. Letting out a roar, the evil king shot a blast of dark magic at the hunter. The blast, almost the size of Gehrman himself soared towards Gehrman with tremendous speed, almost matching that of Gehrman’s art of quickening. Gehrman, completely unfazed by the attack, sheathed his Burial Blade and got into a riposte stance. The beam, now almost near its target, was suddenly sliced in two separate segments. These segments both went separate directions but did not hit their target. They did, however, hit the palace, leaving a huge hole were they had hit.

Sombra watched in shock as saw Gehrman still standing. His blade had been used to repel his attack and cut it in half. Not with one swing but rather he had been holding his blade vertically. “This is impossible,” Sombra said to himself. “You should have been incinerated. You should not have been able to pull something like that off! I am at the peak of my power!”

“Yes,” Gehrman replied, lowering his blade. “But one cannot rely on power alone. You need skill and brains to handle a power as great as you are praising yourself to have. Without the proper tools that power will only consume you.”

“You sound like you’ve had to deal with something like this yourself,” Sombra noted, shooting another blast at Gehrman, who, in return, sliced it in half.

“You have no idea,” Gehrman replied, dashing towards Sombra with incredible speed. Gehrman combined his trick weapon into its scythe form and jumped up, rotating his scythe so that its tip would be facing down. Gehrman’s scythe collided with the concrete, but had missed Sombra, who had simply teleported himself out of the way and behind Gehrman. 

“Seriously, is that all you’ve got?” Sombra asked, rolling his eyes in amusement while powering up another, stronger spell. “I will destroy you!”

“Fine by me,” Gehrman replied, rolling underneath the blast and pushing himself up. “But you’ll have to be quicker,” he said, kicking Sombra in his side. “Your attacks are sloppy. Rethink your strategy, for if you continue to fire spells aimlessly at me you will not advance.”

“Are you mocking me?” Sombra asked, raising an eyebrow at Gehrman. “My slave was foolish enough to mock me too,” he said, quickly shifting his gaze to Gascoigne who laid there, motionless and bleeding out on the concrete streets of the Crystal Empire. “And there is the result.”

“He told you to hold your tongue, lest he cut it off,” Gehrman said, earning a nod from Sombra. “I will cut it out for him, then.” He said, tightening his grip around his Burial Blade. “What he has done cannot be forgiven. But I will finish what he started. By taking your life.”

“Taking my life?” Sombra repeated tauntingly. “Are you that straightforward? No heroic speech like my slave held? No wicked moves or weapons that could split the earth wide open? Where is your strength? I want a battle! Show me! Fight me!”

“You’re insane,” Gehrman said, shaking his head. “That power of yours has already begun to consume you. You’re a monster.”

Sombra smiled at the First Hunter wickedly, showing off his razor sharp canine like teeth. “My power will only grow. I will not stop until everypony kneels before me, trembling as I look down upon their fearful expressions. They will know the true meaning of fear, and as of this day my rule has begun. You are just a minor obstacle in my way.”

Sombra launched himself at Gehrman, not even wanting to use another magic attack to blast the hunter off his feet. No, he would kill him with his own hooves. Sink his teeth into his flesh if he had to. He was superior. He had always been superior. Stopping in his tracks and rotating his body so that his back legs faced Gehrman, Sombra bucked the hunter in his stomach, tumbling him backwards while he inhaled a deep breath. Seeing this was probably going to be his only opportunity to land a successful hit on his adversary, Sombra shot another, but this time more powerful blast of dark magic at the hunter. 

Gehrman held a hand to his stomach while pushing himself up, only to be hit in his chest by a tremendous force that could rival he hit of one of the Bloodletting Beasts from the Old Labyrinths. He was sent flying into the castle, and dropped down when he hit one of the pillars. The force of Sombra’s attack was enough to knock all the air out of his lungs as he finally hit the ground with a loud thud. This made everyone who was still watching—albeit it a few to gasp in horror when they watched their former king march towards Gehrman.

“I pity you, you know,” Sombra said. Reaching German, the king towered over him, his menacing eyes looking down at the hunter with sheer anger. “I was hoping you would put up a fight.” Even though the look on his face gave away the meaning of his words, to another person it would have sound like he was actually disappointed with the First Hunter. “Even that idiot,” Sombra said, his eyes now filled with even more anger than they already were, “Gascoigne put up a better fight than you did. And he had his body thrown around like a flail, his bones broken, and his muscles teared to pieces. I expected much more from you.” Sombra spat at him.

“So did I.”

Sombra gasped as he suddenly felt something press against his front leg, looking down at his leg he realized that Gehrman was holding a weapon similar to that of Gascoigne, though this one was a lot bulkier and longer. A loud bang erupted from the weapon and Sombra screamed in excruciating pain as his leg was torn off to the bone. Sombra watched in absolute horror as his leg flew past him and landed a few feet behind him. Falling on his back, the king held his leg in agony, blood now staining his once clean coat, and deepening the already red color of his cape.

Gehrman slowly pushed himself off the concrete street and reloaded his Blunderbuss. Gehrman made his way over to Sombra and looked down at the king. “Looks like the roles are reversed,” he said, pointing the edge of his scythe a Sombra’s neck. “You’re a fool, Sombra, and you will die as one.”

Gehrman raised his scythe and slashed down at Sombra, only for Sombra to teleport away. Gehrman gritted his teeth in frustration, frantically looking around him to find Sombra. “A cowardly move, fleeing from battle even though you wanted to fight. Where is all that confidence of yours, king?!” Gehrman shouted, hoping that this would get Sombra to reveal himself.

It was then that Gehrman noticed something. A red substance was dropping down on his shoulder, staining it. Gehrman’s head shot up, and he was met with Sombra’s hoof colliding with his face. Gehrman held his face in pain as he dropped his Burial Blade. He shook his head and checked his hands to see if he was not bleeding. He gritted his teeth in anger and looked at Sombra, who was trotting—though it looked more like limping away from him, laughing manically to himself.

“We will meet again!” He laughed.

Gehrman was about to chase after him, but stopped when an axe soared passed his face. He watched as the axe flew towards Sombra in mid-air. Sombra, too busy laughing and admiring his Crystal Heart, which he had been holding onto throughout the duration of their fight, was oblivious to the world around him; the axe, still stained with the blood of Spike, Gascoigne, and even a few drops of Gehrman himself made impact with Sombra’s body. The axe, now stuck between Sombra’s spine and his muscles stopped in its tracks and Sombra, who had been running still, finally fell to the ground. Blood stained the concrete streets of the king’s former empire.

Sombra’s eyes widened as he felt the pain of the axe in his back. He felt so… he felt good, relieved for some reason. Closing his eyes, the king felt his body go numb. Sombra, the evil ruler of the Crystal Empire had been defeated. He could not believe it. After everything he had been through, everything he had planned… was it all for nothing?

He had been so calm and careful up until now. And even though his slave betrayed him, he still obtained his Crystal Heart… he should have been victorious. He should not have been defeated. But yet he was.

“I cannot believe I have been defeated,” Sombra said to himself, but due to the lack of strength and the loss of blood it came out more like a whisper. “I wanted it so bad… absolute power. I had it, but I was defeated nonetheless. I… am weak. I realize that now.” Sombra closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. “But at least I can rest now. Death… it feels like a weight has been lifted. Heh, you fought well, Gehrman.”

Gehrman watched as the king’s body stopped moving. Blood pouring out of the wound the axe had made. But it was at this moment Gehrman realized something.

There was only one man who wielded an axe. And he was supposed to be dead.

Gehrman quickly turned his head to look at Gascoigne. His body was in the same position as it was before. So was it really him who threw the axe? Or was it someone else?

Ignoring these questions that went through his head, he quickly made his way over to Sombra’s body, ready to retake the Crystal Heart and return it to Cadance. To put an end to all of this.

> Chapter XXVIII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gehrman wiped the tiny drops of sweat that had rolled down his head away, while he bent over and grabbed the hold of the Crystal Heart. Taking one last look at Sombra’s body, he gave it a quick glare before turning around and running towards the palace. His fight was over, but Spike’s fight was about to begin. With the loss of that much blood one can only wonder how long Spike will stay alive. Gehrman could not help but take a quick glance at Gascoigne’s body as he reached one of the palace’s pillars and entered it.

While it was true that Gascoigne was at fault here, having struck down Spike with no regret or remorse afterwards was something only a man who had lost it all would have done, Gehrman still felt that he was at fault too. What would have happened if he had not rolled out of the way and had actually blocked Gascoigne’s attack? Would Spike still have gotten hurt? Would someone else have gotten hurt instead? While these thoughts roamed through his mind, Gehrman had only one main objective to keep all his attention on. Getting the Crystal Heart back to Cadance and saving Spike.

“This could have all been prevented,” Gehrman said to himself, letting out a long sigh of defeat. “Had I not tried to reason with Gascoigne things would have gone differently.”

‘And yet here you are. Victorious once more.’

Gehrman stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. “Why are you still here, Oedon? What have you to gain from all of this? Your true goals lay in Yharnam, not here. You have already overtaken my city, or rather, your kind and their twisted blood has. Do not let the same fate overcome this peaceful land. They have done nothing wrong.”

‘Are you implying the human residence of Yharnam were at fault all those years ago, then?’ Oedon asked.

“We were all at fault, Oedon. Master Willem sought knowledge and discovered the Eldritch Truth. Laurence wanted to lift humanity into its next state of evolution and he discovered the Old Blood. I sought… I sought for a purpose in life and obtained one. We were all at fault, Oedon. Every last one of us who took the Old Blood and viewed it as a miracle send down to Earth by the God’s themselves,” Gehrman replied, his grip around the Crystal Heart tightening.

‘So even the people who heard the tales of Yharnam and their ‘miracle’ were at fault? People who sought to cure themselves or their loved ones from diseases and curses. Who wanted nothing more than to be happy and live their lives in peace? Are you implying that even the innocent are at fault, First Hunter? I do not share this opinion, nor do I dismiss it. However you cannot judge a book by its cover, as you humans say. Everyone has their own reason for doing what they did. Even Gascoigne who so foolishly followed Sombra’s every order did so because he had his own reasons,’ Oedon replied.

“And what were the fool’s reasons, then?” Gehrman asked, receiving a grim chuckle from Oedon.

‘I will leave that for you to ponder on, First Hunter,’ Oedon replied. ‘However know that it was not for power, or for some kind of revenge.’

“So I am to guess what his reasons where?” Gehrman asked, anger clearly present in his voice as he narrowed his eyes. “Does your kind view our existence as some kind of game? Your kind has done nothing but bring death to our soil!”

‘And yet it was humanity’s curiosity that lead to their upcoming demise. You humans always try and put the blame on others, thinking that you did nothing wrong while in reality you were always at fault. The mistake of one man can have dire consequences for thousands of others. As you have seen firsthand. Laurence brought death. Master Willem brought death. And even you brought death. Humans, Great Ones, we are all at fault,’ Oedon replied calmly.

“But it… it was your blood that--.”

‘It was our blood that caused all of this, yes. But it was the blood thirst of man that drove them into becoming beasts. That drove them into madness. Innocent lives have been lost because of your curiosity and my kin’s blood. Like I said: We are all at fault here. Every last one of us yearns for the sweet release of death, even though we do not admit it.’ Oedon cut Gehrman off.

As much as he hated to admit it, Oedon had a valid point. Humanity… no, Gehrman, Laurence, and Master Willem. They were the ones who made the mistake that caused thousands to suffer. There is more blood on their hands than any other resident of Yharnam. Even the most skilled hunters did not shed a much blood as they did. He found it rather funny how the mistakes of three men would cause humanity to crumble. And what’s worse is that eventually someone would take their place.

‘And yet,’ Oedon said, a hint of compassion in his voice. ‘I pity them.’

“Pity who?” Gehrman asked as he quickly made his way upstairs, not wanting to let Cadance and the others to wait any longer.

‘All of you,’ Oedon replied. ‘You humans are a fascinating race. You viewed us as Gods, and yet at the same time you humans trained to defeat your Gods. And even when everything seems lost you still find a way to prevail. Whether you believe in your Gods, or have another goal set in your mind, you always find a way to overcome any challenge. And this might also be the reason my kin fears you so much.’

That caught Gehrman off guard. “Fear us? Why would your kin fear us? We call you Great Ones for a reason.”

‘And yet most of them were killed in one night,’ Oedon retorted. ‘And it was another human who did it. I watched him from the moment he got his transfusion. You did a fine job in guiding and training him, First Hunter.’

Gehrman raised an eyebrow in confusion while having reached the entrance to the upper level of the palace. “I am sorry, but I do not know who you are talking about,” he lied, secretly hoping Oedon would drop the subject.

‘Ah, so you feel pity for the young hunter who defeated you, do you not? Well you should not. He did what he thought was right. He gained enough insight to see the truth. He chose to free you from your dream—or rather your nightmare. Do you not feel grateful for what he has done?’ Oedon asked.

“The young man was a fool,” Gehrman replied, shaking his head. “But this world would not be complete without fools like him. Only a fool would accept the burden of another person. Let alone a person responsible for the deaths of so many innocent lives.”

Gehrman waited for a reply from Oedon, but was surprised when he got none. Deciding to ignore this the First Hunter sprinted towards the throne room…





It was a rather comforting feeling, knowing you would be freed from a never-ending nightmare. Yharnam was a nightmare on its own, but the hunt made things worse than they already were. But still people traveled from afar, doing their best to reach the city were man could perform miracles. And Gascoigne was no exception.

Gascoigne watched as his wife, daughters, and their grandfather happily sat near a nearby lake, laughing and enjoying each other’s company while staring off into the horizon to see the sunset. Gascoigne could not help but smile when he brought a hand to his face to wipe a lock of hair out of his eyes. Clad in regular clothing consisting of a dark tailcoat and trousers with a dark waistcoat, a white bow tie, and a shirt with a winged collar. His wife was wearing a white dress and her hair was let loose to reveal her beauty in its fullest. Her eyes were as beautiful as the stars themselves, and he could stare into those orbs for hours and not get bored.

Gascoigne felt someone place a hand on his shoulder and he turned his head, only for him to smile at the person that stood beside him. He was wearing round glasses, a large white cassock with blue trim and interior, grey trousers, black boots, a black shirt with blue trim, white gloves, and a silver cross that hung around his neck. The man gave a small nod to Gascoigne before speaking up.

“I see you’re enjoying yourself, Father,” the man said in a rather thick accent that seemed to resemble that of a Scottish person, which resulted in him earning a nod from Gascoigne.

“Indeed I am, Father Anderson,” Gascoigne replied.

“They all look rather happy, lass,” Anderson said, running a hand through his short spiky blond hair. “Aren’t you happy too?”

Gascoigne let out a sigh, shaking his head. “I am afraid the situation has gotten worse.”

“Have you tried praying?” Anderson asked.

“Too often,” Gascoigne replied, holding his head in thought. “I have been praying every night for her to get better, but it seems that it is not working.”

“We could ask Father--.”

“She’s sick, Anderson,” Gascoigne cut him off, glaring at him intensely. “She needs a doctor. Medicine! I can’t keep praying over and over again in the hopes my prayers will be received and answered! She hasn’t had a good night sleep in days, Anderson. There is no other way… I… I must leave. I must leave this place behind and travel to foreign soil.” Gascoigne let out a long sigh before continuing. “I am at a loss here. Leaving would mean abandoning the church and abandoning God himself. But my wife… I love her, and I will do anything in my power to protect her. Anderson, please, I beg of you, help me.”

“Remember, Gascoigne, that we are servants of God. We are instruments of His will and His will alone. Leaving means abandoning the church, not the Lord. For he will always be with you, watching over you as you stare into the deepest dark of the Abyss itself. For as long as you live He will be at your side,” Anderson replied, placing his hand firmly on Gascoigne’s shoulder. “You mustn’t let you fears consume you. If you wish to cure your wife then leave. Leave for that foreign soil.”

“Leave so that you may set foot in Yharnam, city of miracles.”





The plague swept across Yharnam at dusk with such force, much of the populace that had been outside were immediately affected by the sickness. The people descended into madness, attacking and mercilessly killing anyone they saw were not afflicted by it. A Hunter knew their duty: the beasts would not stop unless they were disposed of, lest they allowed the land to fall into a deep and disparaging tomb.

His axe was met with many beasts since he was separated from his partner, but he remembered the Hunt. He remembered his duty. As the heavy weapon he wielded tore beasts apart limb by limb, he knew slowly the very fabrics of his mind were slowly slipping through his very own fingers. He couldn't figure out whose hand they belonged to, but he knew there was a song that would play and he would remember. That song would play, he would remember his dear wife and daughters.

‘You bloody fool.’

That was a voice he did not recognize nor remember during this hunt. He remembered the screams of woman and children, the agonizing roars of anger coming from the Yharnamites as they rallied and walked through the streets of Yharnam with meat cleavers and torches in their hands. Their intent was to kill, and so was his.

He did not remember much from the hunts, but he did remember a song.

But days had passed and the song didn't play, it faded from his mind and he began smiling as he cut down more of the beasts, blood-stained garb hanging stiffly from his tired, aching body. Blood began to smell like rose petals on a warm spring afternoon and the axe was as light as a feather, it became a part of him and his hunt. They never stood still or free of blood for more than a mere few moments.

Beasts were just beasts; violent creatures that needed to be struck down. Many of the beasts in Central Yharnam looked the same to him—grimy, hairy, and noisy. A few had a paler complexion than most and even screamed differently but their blood was just the same shade of red.

He didn't feel satisfied, though. He knew there were more beasts out there in Yharnam, and he knew that he had to hunt. The night had barely begun, the beasts would begin to show themselves and come out of hiding to greet the night with an unnatural joy. Perhaps he was becoming one of them, a giddy feeling would wash over him each time he cut one down.

‘That will do for now.’ A loud, yet menacing voice echoed through the area where Gascoigne was standing. 

Time seemed to freeze for the Church hunter. Just then, seemingly out of thin air, another person appeared. Gascoigne could barely turn his head to see who was walking towards him. His eyes widened, though the bandages covering them concealed that. What he saw was… himself? Gascoigne raised an eyebrow in confusion at the sight of a duplicate of himself.

‘It is good to see you, Father Gascoigne, husband to Viola and father to—‘

“Oedon!” Gascoigne roared in anger as he finally regained some control over his body. “Where are you?! Show yourself this instant! Why am I back in Yharnam? And why is there another person here that looks exactly like me?” he asked, clearly enraged at the formless Great One.

‘That is not another person you fool. That is you. This is nothing more than a memory. Things that have long passed—or in your case, passed a few days. You have suffered enough, so I will show you mercy. You will see what you have become, what has happened to your loved ones… and you will serve me and do my bidding. Only then will you finally be able to die,’ Oedon replied. ‘It is time you saw the era of your mistakes and stop blaming others for said mistakes.’

“It better be worth my time,” Gascoigne spat at Oedon.

‘Believe me, it will be. Servant of God,’ Oedon replied in a rather grim sounding tone.

> Chapter XIX
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oedon!” Gascoigne roared in anger as he finally regained some control over his body. “Where are you?! Show yourself this instant! Why am I back in Yharnam? And why is there another person here that looks exactly like me?” he asked, clearly enraged at the formless Great One.

‘That is not another person you fool. That is you. This is nothing more than a memory. Things that have long passed—or in your case, passed a few days. You have suffered enough, so I will show you mercy. You will see what you have become, what has happened to your loved ones… and you will serve me and do my bidding. Only then will you finally be able to die,’ Oedon replied. ‘It is time you saw the era of your mistakes and stop blaming others for said mistakes.’

“It better be worth my time,” Gascoigne spat at Oedon.

‘Believe me, it will be. Servant of God,’ Oedon replied in a rather grim sounding tone.





Gascoigne could only stare in confusion at what seemed to be an exact copy of him. A clone of himself. He reached out to touch the copy of himself, but his hand went straight through it, as if he was trying to touch a ghost. Gascoigne slowly backed away, but kept his eyes locked on his copy. 

“This is… not good,” Gascoigne said to himself. “Not good at all. Oedon, what have you done to me?” Gascoigne asked, a hint of anger in his tone as he looked up at the moonlit sky of Yharnam. “You said you were going to show me something! Well I’m ready, Oedon!”

Instead of getting a reply from Oedon, or a sassy remark, the copy of him began to shift. Gascoigne’s hunter instincts kicked in and he slowly reached for his axe. He did not like this at all. Oedon had been playing games with him since the beginning of his time in Equestria. He was not sure what the Formless Great One was trying to accomplish with this charade, but he did not like this one bit. Gascoigne looked around him, taking in his surroundings. This was indeed Yharnam. Oedon Chapel to be precise. The hunter suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline course through his body when he heard rustling behind him. He turned around and was greeted by an unpleasant, yet familiar sight.

Yharnamites. Lots of them.

“And here I thought I’d seen the last of you,” he muttered to himself, reaching for his axe. “But I guess I was wrong, and it seems that the hunt begins yet again.”

Gascoigne was about to dash towards the group of Yharnamites, but stopped when his copy ran passed him, axe and blunderbuss ready. Ready to kill.

“…”

Gascoigne said nothing, but merely watched in slight confusion when his copy smashed his blunderbuss down upon the head of an unfortunate Yharnamite. He could hear the man’s skull crack underneath the sheer force of the impact, and when his copy dug his axe deep into the man’s abdomen the Yharnamite fell to the ground, blood oozing out of his mouth and wounds. His copy, clearly enjoying what he was doing, extended his axe and, even though the move seemed a little too much, dug the tip of his axe into the eye of another Yharnamite. Ripping the axe out of the Yharnamite’s socket, his copy aimed his blunderbuss at the Yharnamite and pulled the trigger, sending a barrage of tiny scatter shots into the man’s upper and lower body, destroying tissue and organs in the process.

Gascoigne looked at his copy and crossed his arms. He almost smirked at the sight, but that smirk was stopped when he smelled a familiar scent. It was a mixture of rose pedals and a hint of Yharnam blood. And in his time in Yharnam he only knew one person who smelled that way.

“Viola,” Gascoigne breathed out.

He looked up through the thick bandaging masking his sight to see her running across a corpse-ridden grave. On her chest was that red brooch that he had given her one birthday many nights ago.

That brooch. That damned brooch. 

His copy, however, stood over the latest abomination he had killed, relishing the scent of its spilled blood. It gave him adrenaline. It owned him. Ruled him. Then his copy turned to Viola slowly, hate and madness in his dark eyes.

She stood at a distance, dragging herself to a halt from her once-fierce run here. The bottom of her dress was dirty with sludge and blood. She had come all the way from the stinking streets and through the sewers for him. Now she stood uncertainly, unsure. He did not look as she remembered him.

Gascoigne’s eyes widened and he quickly ran passed his copy. Within seconds he stood in front of his wife, panting slightly as he looked down at her. “Viola,” he said calmly, though a hint of irritation could be noticed in his tone. “What in God’s name are you doing here, woman?!” he asked, this time not hiding his irritation and anger. “Why are you not home, protecting the children? Why did you leave them?” he asked.

His irritation only grew when his wife completely ignored him and just stared blankly at him.

“Viola,” Gascoigne sneered. “Leave.”

Gascoigne reached out for his wife, placing his hand on her shoulder. His eyes widened in a way they had never done before when his hand went straight through her shoulder. He backed away slightly, confusion written over his face. “W-what is this? What have you done to my Viola?” he asked, his hands beginning to shake violently.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, time seemed to freeze. Gascoigne looked around him, and saw that his copy was floating in mid-air, axe raised, presumably waiting to strike down another Yharnamite. He then looked to his wife, and saw the pure horror that was written on her face. Gascoigne held his head, a headache threatening to come up. He could not believe what was happening. It was then, at this exact moment that he realized who was with him in Oedon Chapel.

“Oedon!” Gascoigne roared in anger, this anger even overthrowing the anger he felt towards Sombra during their fight. “Stop this madness at once! I will not have it! I have had ENOUGH!”

Gascoigne stood there, panting heavily and his body shaking. Sweat dripping down his forehead. In all honesty, he was concerned. Concerned about his wife’s wellbeing, and, of course, his own.

‘Now, now,’ Oedon replied, his voice echoing through the chapel. ‘That is no way to request something. But I suppose you have had enough… for now, at least.’ 

For some reason, Gascoigne feared what Oedon meant with that.

“What is this madness?” Gascoigne asked, his anger still present. He cocked his head upwards, glaring daggers at it the moonlit sky. “Why is my wife here? And why does she ignore me? And why can’t I touch her?” he asked.

‘The reason,' Oedon replied, chuckling to himself, ‘is because this has all passed. This is a memory of a time you could unfortunately not bear witness. But that is where I come into play.’

“Is there no limit to your power?” Gascoigne asked, shaking his head.

‘… I will let you ponder on that,’ Oedon replied. ‘But first, you must see the truth… no matter the pain it will bring you. You will feel like dying, but I will not have it.’

Gascoigne raised his eyebrows. Deciding not to ask questions, he turned around as the memory began to unfold. His copy, or rather his “former self,” started cutting through more and more Yharnamites, infected with the beastly plague. There was no point of return for any of them. Granting them death was the only option left.

“Run!” He heard himself growl at her. “Get out of here, woman!”

Viola saw that shuffling townspeople, townspeople who were quick when they scented prey, blocked her retreat. So she took off for the long stairs leading up to Oedon Chapel. But she was not as quick. And his copy had overestimated his own abilities and could not topple them as quickly as he thought he could. And he saw her run into two Yharnamites. With his elongated trick-axe he pushed back the group who sneered and wailed on him, and the blade cut through their chests, opening up ribs.

Just as he cleared them, cursing and shouting, he sprinted after her. Viola was brought down by claws and teeth as she tried to escape them. His copy hurtled into them, clipping them back with his weapon and blowing two away with his blunderbuss. He grabbed her and bore her easily, running up the stairs and along the paving along the high railing. From there his copy jumped down onto the roof to get away, only to be followed by more abominations.

“No,” Gascoigne breathed out as he watched his copy jumped down the roof, gazing down at the lifeless body of his wife’s killer. Running up the stairs, Gascoigne reached the roof and jumped down on it, looking down at his wife’s nearly mangled corpse. “What have I done?” he asked himself, falling to his knees as the weight of this memory proved to be too much, even for him. “What have I done, what have I DONE?!” he asked himself once more, gritting his teeth as a wet moisture soaked the bandages covering his eyes. But instead of the thick red substance he was used to, a substance that had covered his eyes for so many times, to the point where it almost blinded him, it were tears. Tears of grief, anger.

“Viola,” Gascoigne breathed out, placing his arms around his wife, only for them to pass straight through her body. Reaching for his eyes, he removed the bandages covering his eyes, revealing his beautiful ocean blue eyes as he started down at his wife. “Why did you come? Why did you come for me?”

Viola raised her head, staring at him—no, staring at his copy, who was hacking away at his wife’s killer in a fit of beastly rage. It pained him tremendously to see her this way, but the fact that this was a memory meant that this all happened. He had abandoned the one thing he cared the most about. His own family. 

‘Looks like you finally got what you wished for.’

Gascoigne said nothing, no reply to the Formless Great One. Instead he looked down at his wife who was losing the last bits of life from her body.

‘Or did you not want to see your wife one last time, even if that meant doing something terrible?’ Oedon asked, seemingly mocking the broken hunter. ‘Your request has been granted; now you will watch as everything you once loved disappears in front of you. And there is nothing you can do to stop it.’

Gascoigne again said nothing.

Viola slowly lowered her head, her eyes beginning to close ever so slowly. “Gascoigne,” Viola whispered, her voice light and pitchy. “I loved you always, I always will.”

With her last dying breath she expressed her love for him. Even after he had done such terrible things she still loved him. And he threw it all away, like it meant nothing to him. The burden of his mistakes weighed heavily upon him, and if he had the strength he would have gladly taken his own life. Right there and then… but he could not move, not even an inch. His wife lay dead in front of him. His fear, fear of losing her suddenly vanished, and all that was left was anger. Anger towards the ones who caused all of this. Anger towards Gehrman, the First Hunter for not killing him, anger towards the entire world. This world was a cruel place.

“Where are they?” Gascoigne asked, albeit it reluctant. “Where are my girls?”

One word. One word was enough to break an already broken man even further beyond repair.

‘Dead.’

And it was at this moment, that Gascoigne’s heart shattered into a million pieces.

A wise priest once said that suffering does not appear out of nowhere. It starts with fear, the fear of losing something or someone. Then that fear turns into anger. That anger will eventually turn into hate. And hate will lead to suffering. And for Gascoigne his suffering had just begun, and would not end until his death. 

‘But you know what they say, Gascoigne,’ Oedon said. ‘Death is not the end. Death can never be the end. Death is the road. Life is the traveler. The soul is the guide. And I am your soul, the very soul of all those who reside in Yharnam. And I will be your guide. Your guide through your nightmare.’

‘Your Hunter’s Nightmare.’

> Chapter XX
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a sight that no one should have to see. But when you did you eventually get used to it; especially when you’re a hunter. But even so… the sight of innocent blood being spilled is something every hunter wishes to never see ever again. And Gehrman was no exception to this. 

The First Hunter stared down at the weak form of his friend. He felt like his heart was about to stop beating every time Spike’s chest rose a little lower than it was supposed to. The baby dragon was covered with cloth, cloth that had now been stained by his blood. The deep cut that Gascoigne had inflicted on him was big, and would have to be closed. It had to be done quickly, or else he would bleed out in a matter of minutes. Gehrman dug his hands into every pocket he could find, trying to find something worth of use. He searched, but the only things he found were a few bloodstone shards, an old, outdated blood vial, and a piece of cloth that once belonged to someone dear to him. Gehrman crossed his fingers as he dug his hand into his last pocket. His fingers touched something, and the hunter smiled.

Fire Paper.

“Cauterize the wound,” he said to himself, un-sheathing his Burial Blade while walking towards Spike. He stopped when he watched Applejack and Rarity stare at him with tear-filled eyes. He gave a solemn nod before kneeling down beside Spike. He stared down at the baby dragon and his heart almost shattered when Spike slowly turned his head to look at him.

“D-Did it work?” the baby dragon asked, although his question could barely pass as one, coming of as more of a whisper than anything else. “Did you do it?”

“I… defeated him. I have the Crystal Heart. We did it,” Gehrman replied, reaching over to softly pat the dragon’s head. “You have proven yourself to me, young one. You are hunter material, my friend. And once you recover, I will teach you all that I know. That I promise you.”

“Nice try…” Spike replied, turning his head to look at the beautiful crystal ceiling of the Crystal Palace. “But I’m not that stupid.”

“I will save you,” Gehrman replied. He turned his head to Applejack and Rarity, but also noticed Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy standing behind them. “I need your help. Hold him down while I perform the necessary treatment.” 

“What t-treatment? Will it make him better?” Rarity asked with a hopeful tone.

“It will stop the bleeding… I hope. But this is only one out of two options, and the other option is something I cannot use,” Gehrman replied, shaking the thought of using a blood vial on Spike out of his head. How could he even think of that in the first place? Was he that desperate? Gehrman’s eyes were now filled with determination as he instructed all four mares to hold down one limb of Spike. Gehrman looked down at his Burial Blade and nodded to himself before applying the fire paper to it.

For a brief moment all four mares were captivated when they saw the gorgeous orange flames dance around the well-crafted blade. The heat of the flames made them avert their gaze quickly, though. They watched as Gehrman lowered the blade, while simultaneously using his free hand to remove the cloth and squeeze the two large cuts tightly to one another. 

Spike screamed in agony when he felt Gehrman touch the wound, and his screaming only intensified when he lowered the flame covered blade to the wound. Any normal flame might have slightly burned his scales, but this fire was like it was from another world. It was nothing like dragon fire—no, it was worse. Far worse. The flames burned his wound shut, and the smell of burned meat was now present in the throne room. 

All four mares had to prevent themselves from vomiting. Not only because of the smell, but after everything they had witnessed. So much blood. So much death. This was not what they had in mind. Not at all. They had fought enemies that were evil, but the enemy they had now faced—this, this Gascoigne he… he was another evil - demonic, even. What kind of man would do such a thing? What kind of man would hurt a child—a baby? Normally some of their adversaries were forgiven, even if they did terrible things. But they would never forgive Gascoigne for this. 

Never.

And the worse thing of all… Twilight has no idea what happened to her assistant. They had send Pinkie Pie out to find her, hoping that with her set of “skills” she would be able to find Twilight as soon as possible. 

The four mares all stared at Spike, and then at Gehrman. “I need new cloth as soon as possible,” he said, not averting his eyes from Spike. “Could you get me that?” he continued.

“I got you,” Rainbow Dash replied before taking off. In her mind she hoped to return as soon as possible… but she could not bear to see Spike in this state. But she could not have her thoughts drift off to that. She needed to get those bandages!

Gehrman let out a long sigh before standing up. “The Crystal Heart,” he said, taking the item out of his Charred Hunter’s coat. “We must return it to its original place,” he continued, bringing his attention to Cadance. “Princess, will you return it?” he asked.

Cadance looked at Gehrman before nodding her head. Using her magic to levitate the heart out of Gehrman’s hand, she looked at it before walking away from the group with her husband, who had decided to follow her. She just wanted this to be over. Sombra was defeated, and Gascoigne… well, she did not know what had gotten into that delusional mind of his, but when he turned against Sombra she was almost hopeful. Hopeful that evil would bring down evil. But alas good would always triumph, and Gehrman emerged victorious out of both fights.

‘You think that old fool is a hero?’ an all too familiar voice echoed through Cadance mind, shocking the pink-coated mare. 

‘Where… what are you?’ Cadance thought to herself, not wanting to attract unwanted attention to herself. Shining had already been through enough. Thinking his wife might be crazy because she’s talking to herself would only worsen the situation. Cadance decided to press on, wanting to know who it was that was talking to her. ‘You’re the same voice as before. After Gascoigne had assaulted me, you talked to me. You were asking all these weird questions. Tell me who you are.’

‘I am that which cannot be understood. You have my blood running through your veins. You're no longer a normal Alicorn. You are something greater. You hold a power that you cannot possibly comprehend. A power that, had it been unleashed, could have destroyed Sombra and Gascoigne simultaneously. But alas the First Hunter had to end their tyrannical ways. Such a shame… but Gascoigne’s part is far from over… as is yours,’ the voice replied, taking a long pause before continuing. ‘Tell me, child, are you afraid of me?'

Cadance blinked. ‘Well it’s not every day you have a voice talking in your head. Ponies might think I’m crazy should tell them about this.’

‘There is no need for someone else to get involved into this,’ Oedon said, chuckling to himself. ‘You need to be worried. I am not going to hurt you in any way. The only thing I request from you is your assistance.’ 

Cadance raised an eyebrow at Oedon’s request. ‘And why would you need my assistance?’ Cadance asked the Great One.

‘Because there are still innocents suffering as we speak. Perhaps not in this world, but in Yharnam. My kin has deceived the humans, such as the First Hunter and Gascoigne for long enough. I have taken it upon myself to cleanse the world from evil such as my kin’s. I will not idly sit back and watch as the world tears itself to pieces. I will punish malefactors, whether they are human… or my own,’ Oedon replied and a long pause soon followed. ‘This must be stopped, and I will need your help in doing so. Gehrman will not travel to the place I have sent Gascoigne to, so I ask you to go there. You have my blood. You'll be able to travel through the place I want you to go. Once you arrive, I'll instruct you on what to do next.’

“Just hold on a second!” Cadance exclaimed. 

Shining Armor stared with a look of confusion on his face at his wife. Raising an eyebrow, the prince asked. “Hold on? Honey, we’re right where we want to be.” He chuckled, motioning to the original resting place of the Crystal Heart. “Why would we want to stop?”

“Right,” Cadance quickly replied, shaking her head. “You’re right. It was a stupid thing to say.”

“You’re probably just tired. I mean we all are,” Shining replied, looking at his wife. “Do you want to do the honor?” 

“Let’s do it together,” Cadance replied.

And so husband and wife placed the Crystal Heart back where it belonged, and a blinding light shone through the Crystal Empire. Ponies cheered as they changed back into their old forms—those of Crystal ponies. And even though Fluttershy and the others were affected too, they paid little mind to it. For their friend was still hurt, and another had just returned…





A strange feeling fell upon Spike when he opened his eyes. He was having trouble adjusting his eyes to the bright white light that shone through… wherever he was. He looked around and saw… nothing, just white. It was like he was just standing in a white room. 

“What the?” Spike asked, taking a few steps backwards. “Hello? Anypony out here?”

‘You could say that, child,’ a voice suddenly echoed through the room. ‘So how did it feel to be the hero instead of the moral support?’ the voice continued.

“Moral support?” Spike asked, crossing his arms. “I’ll have you know that—hey wait a minute, where am I?!” Spike exclaimed. “Who are you? Where is Twilight? Where’s the Crystal Empire?”

‘All safe and sound, no thanks to you.’ the voice replied. ‘Young Spike, my name is Oedon, and I will be your guide.’ 

“My guide?” Spike repeated in confusion, holding his claw under his chin. “What’cha mean?” 

‘There is a great conflict that must be stopped. My plan has already been set in motion, and for it to succeed I need your help. You are cursed with blood. I can help you overcome this ordeal… but I will need your full cooperation,’ Oedon replied.

“Well… I’d love to help but… I don’t know, this all is a little too much to take in at once,” Spike admitted, shaking his head. “I mean I was hurt by a crazy guy with an axe and--.”

‘All I need to know is this: will you help me achieve my goal for total peace? Your reward will be… beyond your wildest dreams,’ Oedon cut Spike off.

“But why?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean I’m just a baby dragon, I’m not that special. If you really want help you should go ask Twilight. I mean she would be happy to help you out—not that I don’t want to help you, but… well, you know what let’s just start over.  Hi, my name is Spike.” Spike said, holding out his claw. “Oedon, right?”

‘I have no time for childish games. Lives are at stake, and as we speak right now people are dying in another world. Do you want to prevent the deaths of innocent people, or do you simply not care? Are you that cold-blooded, or are you just scared of that which you do not know?’ Oedon replied.

“I… I’m not scared, I’m just confused,” Spike retorted, crossing his arms. “And If I agree, what will happen to me? I won’t die or anything, right? … Right? It’s not like you’re going to kill me if I don’t agree, right?”

‘Do not worry. I’m not going to kill you. I have other uses for you…' Oedon’s voice echoed through the white room Spike was standing in, and a tingly feeling went up his spine. And before the young dragon could say anything, a bright white light once again blinded him.





“Gehrman let me go!” Twilight shrieked over sobs, her tear-stained face making even the hardest and toughest of hearts break. It was the face of utter sadness and grief. Twilight struggled to be released from Gehrman’s grip, but he would not let her go.

“There is nothing you can do now. He needs to rest,” Gehrman replied.

“But I can use my magic to heal him! Just let me go!” Twilight replied, continuing her struggle to be released by Gehrman. “I want to help him. I need to help him.”

“You already tried,” Gehrman said in a soothing voice, stroking her mane comfortingly. “You tried your best, but even Rainbow Dash could see that your magic did not work on him.” Gehrman paused to bow his head respectfully to Dash, hoping his statement had not offended her. “You mustn’t make hasty decisions, lest they make this situation worse. All we can do now is wait for him to open his eyes…”

“And what if he doesn’t?” Twilight sobbed, shaking her head before burrowing it in Gehrman’s shoulder. “What if he doesn’t open them? I don’t want to lose my family. I don’t want to lose him.”

“You will not lose him,” Gehrman replied. “I will not have it.” Gehrman turned to look at Spike one more time before turning his attention back to Twilight. She needed comfort, and lots of it. In all honesty everyone did. This battle had taken its toll on everyone… expect for Gehrman. This was nothing compared to Yharnam. But those are two different things, and the fact that the Old Blood, a Great One, and a rogue hunter followed him into this peaceful world meant that he had to do what he wanted to leave behind for so long.

He would have to hunt them down. 

“Gehrman?”

Gehrman turned his head, only to be greeted by Shining Armor. “Yes, Prince Shining Armor?” he asked, still stroking Twilight’s mane while doing so.

“After everything, I haven’t even thought of your wellbeing. Gehrman, are you feeling okay? You took on Gascoigne and Sombra all by yourself,” he said, observing the hunter for any injuries. “That is something on its own. You’re the most skilled warrior I have ever seen, and I’ve seen some very skilled warriors in my time as a recruit and Captain.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Gehrman replied, bowing his head. “But it is not needed. I am fine. I cannot say the same about young Spike, however.”

“Sombra paid for this, you made sure of that. And so did Gascoigne.” Shining retorted. “It’s just that… I don’t understand why Spike would go to such efforts to help you. But I’m glad he did. He did always say he wanted to be a hero.”

“Yes, but look around you,” Gehrman said. “We are all heroes. But in the end the hero will stand alone, when all is said and done.” Gehrman sighed, closing his eyes before continuing. “And young Spike stands alone. The enemies have fallen one by one, but the clock is ticking. I fear something greater is about to happen.”

“Is that a good or a bad thing?” Shining asked.

“I cannot tell… its motives are still unknown to me,” Gehrman replied.

“Its?” Shining asked, taking a step back. “Don’t tell me it’s not over,” he breathed out.

‘It will be,’ Oedon’s voice suddenly echoed through Cadance… and Spike’s mind.

And before anyone could do something, Cadance fainted… her consciousness fading and transported to a place no man, woman or child would ever dare to venture.