"I'll go see how he's doin'," you say. "Ebrietas, stay on standby for emergency comfortin'."
She gives you a little salute as you turn and walk up the familiar path. You give the door two quick raps and wait with your hands clasped at your waist. Before long, it creaks open and the brim of Gehrman's hat slides into view through the narrow gap.
"Just wanted ta see how ye were, if ye needed someone ta talk to or anythin'."
Fury sputters across his features, bright but stillborn. He sags and shakes his head.
"No, thank you, Father Anderson. I think I need some time alone." His crow's feet dance as he blinks away lingering dampness. "Let me know how the prosthesics work out. Good luck with the Nightmare."
"Aye, I appreciate that."
He nods and gently shuts the door. You return to your companions and the squad of Messengers gathering around them. A few seem to be attempting to ingratiate themselves with Ebrietas, offering her weapons and other trinkets.
"He needs 'is space," you report. "What about you two? Anythin' I can help ye with?"
"We are alright," says Hope as Ebrietas politely declines a hammer that resembles a tombstone on a stick. "Will you be returning now to the Nightmare?"
"Aye. Past time we put an end ta it."
She rises and the two of you bow. "Then farewell, Hunter Anderson. Be safe in your journey."
Ebrietas waves goodbye from among her cluster of admirers. Kneeling at the isolated grave, you rise to see Simon and Djura in mid-conversation with a seated Maria. All three turn at your approach.
"So," you say with a clap, "we doin' this?"
"You can pass," says Maria, "but I will not be joining you."
"Ye sure? We could really use yer help. Kicked some proper arse together back in Cainhurst."
"I will not harm the villagers, Father Anderson, and I would appreciate the three of you minimizing the suffering you inflict on them. No grandstanding, no theatrics. Clean kills."
"I think I speak for the three of us when I say that we can accommodate your request," Simon replies before you can shove your foot in your mouth and Maria can then cut it off.
"Thank you, Simon."
You shrug. "I mean, sure, but are ye fine with that? Just sittin' here an' waitin' ta die?"
"I am. I have an opportunity before me that no other Hunter ever had: a peaceful death. I had a glorious final fight, one free of self-doubt and in which I gave my everything. There is nothing more I could want.
"Forgive an old woman her selfishness."
You and your posse stand in silence for several moments before Simon steps forward and bows.
"It was an honor meeting you."
Djura follows suit, taking her hand and nodding stiffly.
"I'm sorry we didn't have more time to talk."
Maria stands and pulls from her coat a small dial, a spitting image of the great clockwork behind her seat. She holds it up to the light streaming through and the machinery grinds to life. The various discs twirl until their apertures line up, revealing a waterlogged path that roils softly in an unseen breeze. Djura and Simon step onto it, leaving you alone with Maria. The two of you share a look, one warrior to another, and you extend a hand.
"It was a pleasure."
She takes it and gives it a firm shake, smiling faintly.
"It was, indeed."
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