New Blood

Chapter 6

C5: Adjusting

"What the hell happened in there?"

"From what we can tell, Bayonetta attempted to access the Hunter's memories. She has done with others before, if you recall. The resulting trauma has left her... unresponsive."

"Excara madel shifta. What's the recovery looking like?"

"The Umbra Witch remains largely unresponsive, Director. Though from the scans it appears that her psyche is slowly recovering from the shock."

"Tell Dr. Amherst that she has clearance for that test of hers. I want Bayonetta back in the fight as soon as possible, got it?"

"Yes, Director. Right away."

Arianna looked out of her window, not really seeing the pale white beauty of the land without. Every day she looked to that jagged pass, searching for any sign of the Hunter's return. And every day the Hunter remained apart from her. She would have wept, were not all her tears spent and dried. The young girls the Hunter had given her to care for had been some help, their child's innocence providing her with peace and joy.

And yet... she could not shake the sensation that her darling Hunter was farther from her now than he had ever been. She lightly ran one delicate finger over the pane of glass, the cool surface somewhat rough. Arianna would have given anything to have her Hunter back. She knew how much he hurt, how the Hunt had wounded him inside and out. Their last embrace had shown her how desperate he was for healing. Yet now they were apart, and she could do nothing for the man to whom she owed everything.

The sound of soft footfalls came to her from the door, and she turned to see the Doll standing there, hands demurely placed upon her skirts. The Doll had come in the morning as she always did now, she curtseyed and spoke, "Good Lady, how may I assist you this day?" The Doll's soft voice flowed in the air to Arianna, who almost dismissed the Hunter's former companion.

Then she decided against it and said, "I wish to know more of...him, the Hunter. Will you tell me?" For the months since the Hunter had left her Arianna had barely thought of the past, only yearning for the future dream of his return. Yet now, a desire to know more of the man who had saved her rose up within her.

Silence permeated the air as the Doll regarded Arianna with quiet contemplation. Just when Arianna had thought the Doll would not answer, however, the Hunter's companion spoke, "What would you know, good Lady?"

Arianna drew in a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knew would most likely be the most gruesome and unholy account she would ever hear, "All. I wish to know all." She would not regret hearing of what her Hunter had done for her, and all of Yharnam. She swore to herself that when he returned, she would use this knowledge to heal him inside and out.

-x-

The Hunter groaned, slowly regaining his feet as the blast subsided. Whatever this Samus person had done hurt him worse than any beast had. Somehow those glowing orbs let these fighters do things beyond their normal capabilities. As he rose a sudden throb of pain went through his head and he gasped, almost falling back to his knees. He had hit the wall hard enough to crack his skull, it seemed, and the pain was excruciating.

Two Arena medics came to assist him through the door, and he leaned on them gratefully. A week of fighting here, once a day, had taught him that none of these gladiators were what they seemed to be. He had won his share of bouts, but every time an opponent seized that multicolored ball, he inevitably lost. The Hunter himself had yet to shatter one, and was apprehensive about what might happen when he finally managed it.

Along with his own fights he had observed many contests between others, and he vividly remembered one combatant transforming into a beast larger even than Amygdala. He trembled at the memory, his skin crawling as he imagined something similar happening to him. The medics had finally drawn him through the door and he felt the now familiar sensations of the healing field restoring his body. After a quick once over he was cleared to go back to his quarters and the medics left.

The Hunter, however, did not leave the post-game room just yet. Instead he sat on a bench and stared at the floor. He had no desire to face those massive crowds, in fact he would rather sleep in here than walk through that crushing chaos again. With a long sigh the Hunter shook his head, he was out of his depth here. There was so much going on that he had no means of understanding.

After ten minutes his 'agent' came into the room, all toothy smiles and joyous demeanor until the door shut behind him. Then it was all business, "Hunter, we've been over this. You could sit here for a week and they'd never leave you alone. Let's just get this over with so we can both relax." This agent was supposedly The Hunter's public representative, and was in charge of the Hunter's public image and interactions with what they called the 'press'.

"I know, but I still need to breathe after getting hit with something like that." They both knew this was an excuse, the healing field had taken care of any damage, no matter how severe. But the Hunter didn't care, he would use any reason to delay going through that crowd, "One of these days I hope they'll just let me go in peace, Ray."

Ray ran a hand over his shaved scalp, sighing, "Look, Hunter. I know how you feel, believe me I do. I don't like all of that" he gestured toward the door to the amphitheatre, "any more than you do. But all this is doing right now is making them desperate. The longer we wait in here the worse it gets out there." He held a hand out to the Hunter, who took it after a moment. Ray pulled the Hunter to his feet, "I'll do all the talking, just like we agreed, alright?"

"Why any talking has to be done at all is beyond me. But thanks, Ray." The Hunter was genuinely appreciative of his agent's willingness to shield him from public scrutiny. As the two of them passed through the door, Ray immediately made good on his promise, deftly answering any questions put to the Hunter and keeping away anyone who tried to get too close. Both of them steadily made their way to the far doors and passed into the area beyond, where only a select few were allowed.

The Hunter felt Ray slap him on the back, "That wasn't so bad, now was it? But would it kill you to smile at them? You look grim enough without the constant scowling."

"It's just my face Ray, we've been over this." Indeed they had, several times. But Ray persisted on the grounds that the Hunter needed a better image. Although what image had to do with anything was beyond the Hunter himself, it seemed to matter a great deal to his agent.

The armored form of Samus loomed over them both and the Hunter looked up at her now bare face, she having removed her helmet. She held out a hand to the Hunter and he shook it as she spoke, her voice hard, but not unpleasant, "You're fast." Her curt way of speaking wasn't surprising, from what The Hunter understood, Samus had spent much of her time on her own as well.

He released her hand and nodded, "I've had to be. You're not so slow yourself." Indeed, the Hunter's rapid movements had been all that had saved him from being defeated earlier in the bout. But even then it was a close thing, the bounty hunter had many forms of attack, and had constantly harried him whenever she'd had the upper hand.

A half smile flashed across her stern expression, softening it for a moment, "Next time, don't let me get the smash ball." She nodded to him before turning and walking away, her heavy footfalls echoing in the broad hallway. The Hunter shook his head, appreciating the underlying joke in her statement. Ray also took his leave of the Hunter, and left him alone in the ornate hall.

When the Hunter had first come into the hall beyond the amphitheatre, he had been on the verge of panic, and had not really taken in his surroundings until after Link had helped him calm down. But once he had, he was nearly stunned by the opulence of just this one hallway. The ceiling was at least twenty feet high, supported by carved white columns which had deep crimson drapes hung between them.

The walls and floors were made of polished stone, and the center of the hall was overlaid by a red carpet trimmed with patterns woven in golden thread. Upon the sides were lights that were both bright and hidden at the same time, placed as they were along the walls to supplement the light from the complex fixtures hanging from the ceiling. Carved wooden benches were placed between each column, the polished dark wood supporting cushions of yet more crimson coloration.

All in all the place had stunned the Hunter once more. But now he was starting to adjust to it, and it had given him some ideas for how Cainhurst itself should be refurbished. Many people owed him personally for saving businesses, homes, and lives. If he could sway craftsmen and others to either take up residence in the castle, or merely help with its restoration...

As they always did, thoughts of Cainhurst led his mind to Arianna, and his heart ached once more for the gentle brushing of her fingertips against his skin. He could almost hear her voice, sweet and soft, welcoming him back to her. The Hunter clenched his fist, fighting back the urge to weep. The Hunt had only brought him to tears on a few occasions, mostly of fear or horror, some of anger. But never before had this agony of separation plagued him, and he felt it far worse for its duration.

He shook his head and walked back to his rooms, lost in thought. So lost that he almost walked straight into Link and Marth. The two swordsmen looked at him with a combination of surprise and amusement. Link spoke, his tone dry, "Did Samus really hit you that hard?"

"Hard enough to crack your skull, no doubt." The Hunter grunted in return, putting on a mask of irritable gruffness. Surprisingly enough, Link had become a fast friend of the Hunter's, the green-clad swordsman providing the lone fighter with quite a bit of assistance, both in and out of the Arena. Marth was still somewhat of a stranger, the blue-haired prince seemed withdrawn most of the time, and the Hunter wasn't the pushy type.

Marth half-smiled, "An impressive feat that would be. I've yet to see the hammer that could crack such stone as sits atop Link's shoulders." The prince's smile broadened as this rare moment of extroversion took its toll on Link. The Hunter suppressed a grin of his own at the expression of wounded consternation upon the green swordsman's face.

The blonde hero rolled his eyes and spoke in sarcastically beseeching tones, "Gentlemen, please. Spare me your verbal sword play. If you wish to do battle let us do it with steel in our hands, not razors in our mouths." The eloquent speech was likely meant as a jibe at Marth's on habitual speaking patterns, and all three men laughed after a few moments.

"What's bothering you, Hunter? You looked like you were a million miles away and then some." Whatever Link and Marth had been discussing prior to the Hunter's arrival, it was apparently not all that important, as both of them seemed more interested in his own thoughts.

The Hunter grimaced slightly. He was not at all fond of talking about the past, and he hadn't brought up Arianna in any conversation thus far. Still, it was likely inevitable that he would have to speak of such things eventually, and at least here he was in the company of friends. "Before I came here," The Hunter gestured vaguely at the Arena in general, "I was in self-imposed exile. Due to what I have done, and what has been done to me, there's a pretty good chance I could turn into a beast."

Link raised an eyebrow, "This again? You've told me about this before, Hunter. And you know that I'm not about to let you lose your mind any time soon." Marth remained silent, expression pensive as he considered the conversation taking place.

"I had to start somewhere didn't I?" The Hunter sighed and lifted his hat to run a hand through his unruly hair before settling it upon his head again, "I wasn't worrying about that. I was... remembering someone." He could feel his throat begin to tighten and his eyes begin to sting. He cursed inwardly, but somehow welcomed them as a sign that his feelings for Arianna had not dimmed. Both Marth and Link remained silent, waiting for him to continue, so he did.

"Her name... was Arianna." Gods it almost hurt to say her name, "I saved her during the Hunt one night. Ever since then she's become, well, important to me. And... the night before I left everything and everyone..." The Hunter's hands curled into tight fists as his entire body shook with the effort of holding back the waves of raw emotion that coursed through him, "We became one, that night. And I left her. Of all that I departed from, I miss Arianna the most."

Several moments passed before someone spoke, surprisingly enough that someone was Marth. "We've all left things behind, Hunter. I once abandoned my home and sister to invaders. The choice was necessary, but to this day I feel guilt for that decision." The blue-haired swordsman looked him in the eye, "But just because it was painful, does not mean it was wrong. I'm sure separation is better than whatever awful things could have occurred should you have stayed."

The Hunter scowled, hearing his own reasoning didn't make him like it any more. But Marth was right, he had come to the same conclusion. Then Link spoke as well, "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't go back, either." He looked at the blond hero, who continued, "No matter how much of a beast you might feel, you'll always be a man in the end. Just hold on to your humanity, Hunter."

He looked between the two of them, then slowly let himself relax. With a tired nod he asked, "Can we go... somewhere else? I'd like to get my mind off this."

Link nodded and exchanged a look with Marth, "Sure. There's still places around here I haven't shown you, and you still owe me that one on one. You may be good with that fancy sword, but I bet I'm better." Marth chuckled and Link gave him a look, "Don't you start, your highness. I've beaten you a fair few times."

"Your three to my five, Hero of Courage." Was Marth's only reply. Link stomped off, muttering. The Hunter followed, already feeling more at ease. Perhaps the two were right. Maybe the Arena was the right place for him, and when the time came, he would return to Arianna. That thought gave him a renewed drive and motivation. If he was going back to her, he would go back better than before.

I have decided at this point to express my appreciation for those who have already read, followed, and favorited this story. Furthermore I wish to ask any who are willing, to please review. I welcome your feedback and would greatly appreciate it. May your hunts go well.