She often wished that when her final moments came, despite the circumstances, she would find solace in the peace of her manor, with only her knights, standing sentinel to either side of the staircase, as her only companions.
Huntsmen will come, some driven mad by the very thing that is supposed to cure their affliction. Pocketing their addicting blood as they hunt the beast that no one could longer be helped except to render their flesh asunder.
They will come to her, as they always do, and she will cure their wild curiosity and end their suffering with an honest death. Simple but precise cuts would prove fatal to any huntsman that would dare not leave the secrets that beckon them so sweetly.
It was on a cloudless night that Weiss heard the rending of flesh and the squelch of blood once again. The secrets of the manor had been laid bare once more. Another predator will come and they will become her prey.
She resigned to her chair and waited for the inevitable. Destiny would come knocking at her doors soon enough.
Something changed in the air and Weiss lifts her head from where her chin was bowed in her chest, dust falling down from the brim of her hat and cascading down on her shoulders and alabaster hair, as she hears the shrilling din of heavy boots striding through the gleaming azure floors of her manor. Her body felt stiff and her joints groaned in complaint at the sudden movement eases the frigidity of her body.
She thumbs the blade of Myrtenaster, stroking lightly along the edge, an uncharacteristic giddiness scratched at her mind. A part of her, the part of her long since subdued from the harshness of the training from Winter, both the season and her sister, is excited by the thought that her weapon would taste blood once again.
The huntsman, no, a huntress, Weiss noticed, strode past the heavy white doors, onto her gaze and the gaze of her unmoving knights.
The huntress was covered in viscera, blood almost unnoticeable among the crimson dye of her coat and hooded cloak, as it dripped from her lapels and pooled around the marble floor.
What surprised Weiss the most was her face, what Weiss can see from under the huntress’ hood. Her face is young, despite the rough scar bisecting her right eye, mirroring Weiss’ own, too young to be burdened with the trials ahead. Not yet rendered grim from the nightmares that plague the waking world.
“Good huntress, lost in the nightmare. What did you think? Of that beastly legend, and those ailing wards of the manor. I know what you did to them. It’s not your fault, the nightmare held them, and now they are free.”
The huntress stayed silent.
“What about you? Have you profited at all?”
The huntress moved her hand, and Weiss' own hand twitched, ready to parry the coming blow, but it did not come. The deadly burial blade, caked with dried blood, was stored away behind the huntress’ cloak.
It seems it was Weiss’ curiosity that beckons her to the huntress secrets, not the other way around.
“The dying echoes of the Cursed strengthens me and helps me survive.” The huntress replied, her tone hints of remorse. Her voice sings sweetly in Weiss’ ears.
“Oh, really? Well, that’s a relief. Now you can leave this Nightmare.” Weiss licks her cold, dry lips. Tasting the salt of her lips and her impending words.
Unlike the huntress standing before her, she cannot leave this nightmare, yet she cannot summon the will to fight this huntress. If there is someone she wishes to kill it will be that blasted father of his. Just thinking of his name fills Weiss with an ire that almost burns her cold flesh.
“You will not find your enemies here. Take the relic in this room as your parting prize. Let them be your strength and return to your hunt, good huntress.”
The huntress stayed silent.
“What’s wrong, my huntress? Don’t you hear the hunt calling? Or do you wish to tease something more from the depths of this nightmare?” Weiss’ eyes narrowed and bit her lip hard enough that it drew blood. “Even if it means my murder.”
Weiss watched and waited. The sigh that leaves the huntress’ lungs filled her with such shivers that which she cannot fathom. The huntress' eyes are so wide, so focused. The metal in them piercing and shattering the ice of Weiss’ soul.
“Hmm, look at you. That glint in your eyes.”
“Come with me.” The huntress beckoned, cheeks burning with passion as she unceremoniously tried to wipe her bloodied hand on her thigh before offering a gloved palm to Weiss.
Weiss thought for a moment of what this could entail for her and the huntress. It seems death is not the only cure for wild curiosity.
“What is your name, my huntress?”
Weiss tentatively accepted her hand and both of them tried to find their worth in the waking world.
_______________________________
I decided to do a Bloodborne crossover with my favorite boss in the game, Lady Maria from the Astral Tower.
I was actually debating whether to draw or to write but apparently I like to torture myself and so I did both.
The drawing took a few days as I can only draw an hour at a time and needed long breaks in between and I'm glad I want too late to submit it. The writing on the other hand was just done in a single afternoon cause the best way to write is when you're on a strict deadline.
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