Blood Drunk Hunter (Shadow Slave/Bloodborne Fic)

Under the shade of towering crimson coral and hidden from view, two boys bickered. 

"I can't take the shard. It was your kill."

"Except I can't do anything with it. My core is fully saturated."

"You fully saturated your core in your First Nightmare? Well, I suppose that would be possible if you were born into the upper echelons of the Song Clan."

"I told you before, I don't have a family!"

"You are either a part of that family or your core is not saturated, both can't be true."

Gehrman scowled and backed off. He had dug himself into a hole with this conversation. It was truly astonishing how easy it was to talk to Caster. This was likely because he was trained from a young age to be as charismatic as possible. Nevertheless, Gehrman would enjoy this time while he could. Two of his lives had been those of loners, but there was a part of him that wanted friends and connection. He didn't like it. 

"Well, I can't absorb it, so I guess we'll just take it with us," Gehrman eventually declared. 

Caster raised an eyebrow at that. "How do you plan to do that? Carrying a shard in your hands will not only make you slower, but it will also make you vulnerable to attack."

"It's a good thing we already cut up this guy then, isn't it?" he gestured toward the side, where pieces of the remains of the Carapace Scavenger lay strewn about. It had already been harvested for its shard and more importantly, the meat. 

Caster, being a member of the Han Li clan, had a great number of Memories at his disposal. This included one that offered aid with starting a fire and cooking. It was a very handy Memory, and it made Gehrman question his own limited supply. Though they were far superior in terms of quality, he did not have the widest range of Memories to choose from. This was disheartening to Gehrman who preferred having a variety of options when dealing with his prey…and it would also be nice to have something that stored water. 

"Are you going to try to make a sack out of that?" Caster asked incredulously.

"No, I'm making a modified backpack. Like you said, I need my hands free," Gehrman wiggled his gloved fingers at Caster, earning a disbelieving look from the boy.

"You need to finish it within the hour, we don't have much time before we have to find another place to camp for the night, I don't see any around here tall enough so we'll have to keep moving."

"Have faith, boy. This will be a fine backpack when I'm done."

… 

It was not a fine backpack. It was crude and, frankly, ghastly looking. He couldn't very well use the carapace as straps, so he had to tie it with some of the creature's intestines. This would not have worked normally, but he reinforced them through subtly activating his Aspect Ability to hold everything together. For extra measure, he even added some of his own blood when Caster wasn't looking. The piece that actually held the Soul shard was made out of the Carapace. Caster had winced when he had started to mold the tough material and it started to make metallic squeaking noises. In order to actually break the hide of this Nightmare Creature Gehrman utilized some more of his own blood and applied it to the [Burial Blade] (in sword form) and was able to make grooves and cuts. After a good amount of time he was able to create a slightly oblong box that was held together by some complex joints. He was very familiar with this of course, as this kind of thing was very important in the creation of Trick Weapons. 

The result was a box with several ropes that all tied around Gehrman's small body. In truth, the box was about half the size of the boy. 

"Why did you make it so big?" Caster asked after spending some time being impressed with this creation.

"For all the other soul shards we gather of course!" 

Then they set off, albeit at a slightly slower pace. 

Besides the annoying jingling of the shard against the metallic backpack, everything went smoothly. They managed to find a coral tower of suitable height, and they made it up with an hour to spare before darkness set in. 

When it did, they took turns sleeping and taking watch. This was supposed to be an even thing, but Caster had stayed up the entire two nights that Gehrman slept through after escaping the Flesh Reaver nest. 

To make up for it, Gehrman took watch the entire first night on this journey. He offered to do it again, but Caster insisted that he was well rested, and they could officially split it even. 

The sleep was as good as it could be when resting atop a colossal, rough, piece of coral. The dry day arrived, and with it a sense of dread. However, something odd happened when it finally did. 

Gehrman, who had taken the second watch, suddenly had an unsettling feeling come over him as the sun rose. This was because he noted that the rising of the sun felt somehow different than before. He couldn't place the reason, and none of his senses told him anything, but he decided to search the landscape more closely. 

As he did, he felt his blood and face grow heavier as they were enhanced further through an instinctual application of his Aspect. 

He saw it after two minutes of searching. 

A Crimson Spire.

And a Dark City beneath it. 

Gehrman stared at the daunting sight for a while, digesting what he was looking at. Then he unceremoniously turned around and kicked Caster in the gut. 

"Get up brat I found civilization."

…

They noted two things as they drew closer. The first was that the land surrounding the city was massive, so massive that nothing else even compared. Both the city and the spire were atop a giant and intimidating mountain. 

The second thing they realized was just how little of the mountaintop was actually a standing city. Much of it looked desolate, the ruins of a past clearly visible. 

"There must be people up there," Caster said with a sigh in his voice. "Gates are always surrounded by bigger settlements or, failing that, the largest landmark nearby."

"Well isn't that great, our deal is done. I don't have to do what you order anymore. You should have abused that power more," Gehrman also let out a sigh, though this one was much more sarcastic.

"What are you talking about?"

"The deal we made on the first night we met, I promised not to kill you and you promised not to kill me with the caveat that I had to follow your orders until we reached a settlement," Gehrman recounted the details, not sounding slighted despite the unsavory nature of the deal. 

"We didn't talk at all that first night, you just passed out as soon as I helped you up," Caster gave a very convincing confused glance. To which Gehrman replied with a groan. 

"Are you seriously trying to gaslight me right now? I may be insane, but I don't hallucinate…I think."

"...Sure," Caster said softly. Which was, perhaps, the most demeaning response possible. 

The pair continued in silence, climbing the mountain with practiced skill. Though it was different from the coral, the principal was the same. 

The tiny blood nails that Gehrman manifested had become more natural, and he made quick work of this mountain. Caster had yet another Memory to assist in his climb, of course, he had already mastered it long before reaching the Dream Realm. The training of his ilk was incredibly comprehensive after all. 

Eventually, they found an actual path that started to lead up towards the city. The tension in the air was palpable as his [Sixth Sense] warned him of looming danger. "We should stay low and try to remain unseen. The creatures here are dangerous."

Caster nodded silently. He did find Gehrman unnerving and almost definitely insane, but the fight with the Awakened Beast had proven him to be ruthlessly competent. Since he also had a similar feeling, he didn't try to argue over this strategy. 

They spent an hour or two walking up, taking care not to disturb anything. It was only after that point did they break into a more open area.

What they saw was not at all what either expected. The walled city indeed loomed large over everything, with the sole exception of the oppressive Crimson Spire. However, littered outside the castle walls were poorly made hovels. The materials were strange and varied, but none of it looked normal.

"Something's off," Caster said, echoing Gehrman's own thoughts. Still with their guard up they approached, as they did, they finally saw people. For the first time in days, they had managed to find their fellow humans. 

Despite their wariness, they managed to approach the closest person. A young man who seemed to be cleaning clothes. 

"Excuse me," Caster started. "I am sorry to bother you, but we are Dreamers who have spent the last couple of days getting here. Do you think you could point us to the nearest Gate?"

The man turned to them slowly, regarding them with cold eyes.

"You're a new Dreamer," he said in a hollow voice. "Well, it's good you managed to make it here, but I can't help you. After all, there is no Gate. Everyone in the Dark City is a Dreamer, and we are all stuck here forever."