Rabbit of the Moon: Chapter 2 [DanMachi/Bloodborne]
Chapter 2: Hunter’s Dream
Bell felt heavy as he slowly regained awareness. He was resting on the cold ground, lying in a bed of flowers that were silver and luminous, like moonlight sprouting from the earth. As he regained strength in his frail body, he lifted himself up slowly to take in the world that surrounded him—an isolated speck of land made of hillside and flowers, stones and graves worn by time, with the sole building being the one perched at the top of the slope ahead of him.
Confusion floated within Bell’s mind as he struggled to recall how he had gotten there. Then the vivid memory of the Minotaur striking him down flashed into his mind. He staggered backwards a few steps, grasping where the fist had stricken to find that the pain was gone and his head was whole.
“I… died,” he said in a soft whisper. Looking around at the tranquil surroundings that couldn’t be the Dungeon, a cold weight fell from his chest to his stomach. If he had died, was this was the afterlife that awaited him? He fell to his knees and started to silently sob amidst the flowers.
Miss Eina told him ‘Adventurers shouldn’t go on adventures’ so many times, by which she meant he shouldn’t go further than his level and without preparation. And then there was his goddess. Hestia had taken him into her Familia when others had refused and bestowed upon him her blessing, while he had vowed to support her. He took light of Miss Eina’s words and put his fantasies of meeting cute girls over supporting his goddess.
This was the end result of those less than pure thoughts, in a place where many died every day. Yet he could only regret it now, when it was too late.
“I’m sorry, Goddess. I’m sorry, Miss Eina.” Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes and dripped down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry!”
He sat there weeping for who knows how long, until the squeaking of metal wheels being pushed forward reached his ears. He lifted his head upwards towards it. There was an old man there that had seen many nights, looking down at him.
“Ah… the new Hunter, are you?” the older man said. “A bit young, I suppose, but welcome to the Hunter’s Dream. It will be your home, for now.”
“The Hunter’s Dream?” He wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve. “Then this isn’t Heaven?”
“I doubt such a dream could be called such.” He gestured for Bell to rise. “I am Gehrman, friend to you hunters. And you are?”
“Bell… Bell Cranel.”
“Well then, Bell. Do you remember how you arrived here?”
“I died… fighting a monster.” The boy could only imagine how his goddess would take his death once she felt the connection to his Falna vanish. “I died before I managed to do anything I set out to do and left someone behind. Now I can’t even apologize to her, or thank her for all she did for me.”
“…Do not give up hope so easily, young hunter.” Gehrman said with some hesitation. “There must a purpose that brought you here, a purpose that drove you to sign a contract. Many hunters have come and gone through this dreadful dream in exchange for something to be gained. Perhaps you too will gain what you seek by fulfilling your end.”
A fleeting hope welled up in his chest at that. If this wasn’t Heaven then maybe this was his second chance? He didn’t remember signing any contract, but if there was a chance to go back he’d take it. “How do I do that?”
“You must halt the scourge of beasts and end the night of the hunt, if you wish to leave this dream,” he said, turning the wheelchair around. “Come now. The night may be long, but there is much for you to learn.”
Bell followed the elderly man to the workshop at the top of the slope, past the doll that laid still. It was there that he was made to choose a longer weapon and a tool called a firearm, as the dagger he had at present was unsuitable for the prey that he was to hunt. The old hunter revealed how to unfurl the Saw Cleaver with a flick of the wrist, fire the pistol for a speedy response, and dye bullets with a Hunter’s blood to harm beasts.
Then he told him the value of blood, of how it could heal and strengthen both body and steel, and mentioned that while the blood that flowed through Bell’s veins was weak at the moment, it would become more potent a weapon in time. Then he sent him off to pray at the headstone and find some beasts to kill.
Bell didn’t think anything special of being told to go kill some beasts. In the last two weeks he’d been in the dungeon, facing off against monsters like Goblins and Kobolds. If beasts were just monsters, he didn’t think he’d have any trouble with learning how to deal with them.
He would learn that the Hunt was quite different than the Dungeon.