WARNING: This is my first fanfic (first creatively written anything, really) and it shows. Read at your own risk. Any criticism or advice is welcome.
PROLOGUE
Avallac'h held the small phial up to the light and examined it inquisitively, rolling it from side to side between his thumb and forefinger. Although empty, its illuminated facets betrayed hints of the bottle's former contents with brief flashes of green light. The aroma of damiana flowers permeating from the flask was as overpowering as it was unmistakable to the elven sage. Damiana, when mixed with absenta, produced a green decoction with the properties of a powerful aphrodisiac.
He scoffed inwardly at his observations as he pocketed the phial. 'Auberon Muircetach, King of the Alders, struck down by a love potion...' The mortification would be palpable for any Aen Elle elf, but Avallac'h's cerulean eyes were serene and calm. The angled features of his face were at rest and devoid of any expression.
The potion had been prepared with inordinate potency seemingly beyond its usual purpose, but the implications of regicide were of little concern to Avallac'h and easily pushed from his mind. The fulfillment of Ithlinne's Prophecy was all that mattered to the erudite elf. The salvation of the Aen Elle, Aen Seidhe, and even the Dh'oine would be born of Hen Ichaer, the Elder Blood; the blood of Lara Dorren. The only fact of relevance was that the King of the Alders was now dead, along with any hope Avallac'h had of using him to reclaim the purity of the bloodline. It was an unnecessary waste.
The clattering of armor resounded through the halls, beckoning Avallac'h away from his thoughts and towards the entryway of the chamber. The lancet doors swung open as the commander of the Dearg Ruadhri entered the royal apartment of the king. His obsidian armor was soaked through and sloshing water with every footfall.
"Commander Eredin," Avallac'h addressed with the arching of his brow. "I was not aware that the hydromancers had scheduled a downpour for today..."
The commander disregarded the elven sage as he brushed past, stopping at the foot of the bed where his fallen king now rested in repose. The body had been unceremoniously covered with a shroud and the crown of the Alders was resting upon it.
"You're unaware of many things," Eredin spat, "for being a Knowing One, Aen Saevherne."
Eredin removed his horned helmet and tossed it to the floor, water spilling out like a kicked bucket onto the embroidered carpets. He seated himself at a nearby table where a game of chess had once played out, sweeping the forgotten pieces aside in his frustration. Layers of wet ebony hair framed his face and darkened the indignation in his hawkish emerald eyes.
"Your selfish little dh'oine has betrayed your covenant and our hospitality. She's murdered our king in his bed and stolen out into the night. I lost her on the river."
"Our king was poisoned," Avallac'h stated plainly as he placed the phial on the table. "It may be the tool of women, but I do not believe it to be the one favored by this woman."
Eredin's eyes narrowed as he glared down at the phial, shadow seeming to flit across his face briefly. Avallac'h dismissed it.
"I trust," Avallac'h continued, "that your Dearg Ruadhri can retrieve a dh'oine lost in the unfamiliarity of our world. That is, if the Geas Garadh does not return her to us first."
"The little swallow has flown from your magical cage, across the chasms of time and space. My riders are your only hope of seeing her returned to us now."
"Hen Ichaer..."
"Yes, your precious Elder Blood," Eredin confirmed sardonically as his arms crossed his chest. "It has awoken in the little mutant. How does the Dh'oine idiom go? 'They just grow up so fast. If you blink, they're gone.'"
"Lara's blood," Avallac'h paused to correct himself, "The Elder Blood. It's awakening is an unforeseen complication. But the power is unpredictable, involuntary. She will not be able to control it."
"Control it? She commands it. Even now, as my riders pursue her, she leaps from sphere to sphere as if they were rocks on a stream."
Avallac'h's brows knit together in contemplation. Eredin smirked as the sage processed this new information.
"Recapturing the swallow is another matter," Eredin changed the subject. "What of our plans for the Elder Blood now, without Auberon?"
"The gene which Zireael carries has mutated through Lara Dorren's descendants in unpredictable ways for centuries. Auberon was Lara Dorren's father and the most ideal sire to reclaim the purity of the bloodline. His loss is incalculable."
Avallac'h trailed off as his thoughts drifted back to the information that Eredin had imparted to him earlier. He looked conflicted for a moment, but collected himself before continuing on to his conclusion.
"The purity of the bloodline is now unsalvageable and forever lost to us. But perhaps, with time-"
"Time!" Eredin roared as his palms slammed down upon the table, sending ebony and ivory chess pieces clattering to the floor. "You would ring Auberon's death knell for us all! The White Frost is at our steps, Aen Saevherne. Our world dies around us. Enough time has already been wasted on your aphorisms, your prophecies."
Avallac'h was silent. He knew that as unproductive as Eredin's tirades were, it was dangerous to interrupt them.
"Where was fate when Lara Dorren betrayed her people for Cregennan of Lod? Where was destiny when the Elder blood was stolen from us this night?"
Avallac'h did not answer.
"Lara Dorren's betrayal continues to curse us through you! If not for your infatuation with Lara, you would have never coddled the little dh'oine halfbreed. I'm no Aen Saevherne-"
"No, you are not," Avallac'h stated flatly.
"I'm no Aen Saevherne," Eredin repeated as he lifted himself from the table, "yet I could foresee that the task was destined to fail. Even a stallion requires a blindfold to breed a donkey. If you had sent the dh'oine mutant to your lab, our mages could have extracted what was needed from her in the same manner as they would from any other chimeric abomination."
Avallac'h spoke slowly and evenly through his downcast gaze. "You're no Aen Saevherne. But the thinking of a dh'oine pours from your mouth in natural abundance, Eredin." He did not raise his head as Eredin paced forward, shortening the gap between the two elves.
"Acting as the little dh'oine's pimp seems to have come to you just as naturally," he taunted with the curl of his lip. "The role suited you so well in fact, I had forgotten that you were Aen Saevherne."
Avallac'h had heard enough. With an imperceptible gesture of his hand the atmosphere of the room became charged and crackled with light. The glow radiated around the two elves as a portal manifested into existence beside them with such explosive ferocity that it sent books toppling from their shelves and scrips of paper fluttering about the room. He had summoned the portal effortlessly and wordlessly, the elvish way. The way of the Aen Saevherne.
"If that will be all," Avallac'h queried rhetorically as he turned on his heel to leave. His impassive expression and tone remained, but his eyes were like ice.
"Almost," Eredin answered casually. "There is still one other matter."
The commander returned to the king's bedside and reached down, clutching the crown of the Alders in an ebony-clad fist. He raised it up like a trophy to be admired in the pulsating light of the room before placing it upon his head. The sight was so abhorrent that Avallac'h averted his gaze.
"The king is dead," he proclaimed with a debaucherous grin towards the sage. "Long live the king."
Avallac'h said nothing as he passed through the portal, his expression indifferent.
The she-elf with ostentatious gold makeup ran a hand through her flawless straw-colored hair as she admired her reflection in the mirror, pursing her pistachio-painted lips together in a smirk of satisfaction. The sudden boom of a portal manifesting into existence behind her provided such a shock that she jumped from her seat, inadvertently sending the mirror crashing onto the floor. The shrill shrieks of the hysterical creature, her hair now mussed and crinkling with static, made Avallac'h wonder as he exited the portal if a Banshee had somehow managed to find its way into his laboratory. He frowned as the she-elf whirled around, realizing that he was facing something far worse.
"Aen Seaverhen," she exclaimed in a honeyed voice, curving her lips into a pleasant smile. "Caed'mil!"
The she-elf's masterful control over her own features concealed any indication that she had contorted them so repulsively moments earlier. Her revealing dress was like gossamer in a dusty shade of rose, clinging perfectly to her body as she walked towards the sage. She held out her hand expectantly, as if inviting him to kiss it.
Avallac'h ignored the overture as he walked past the she-elf to inspect the table, frowning at what he saw. His jars of specimens, phylacteries, and potions meticulously organized by color and size had all been carelessly pushed aside into an overflowing leather trunk. Bunches of flowers and herbs had been scattered about in their place, along with pestles and mortars spilling over in a mess of crushed blends and pastes. Oils were dripping from the lip of the table and puddling onto the floor. He seethed in anger; first at the careless handling of his chemicals and ingredients, and second at the audacious violation of the sanctity of his lab.
She had been crafting makeup.
"I granted you access to the tower," he scolded with stretched syllables. "Not the inner sanctum of my laboratory. There are sensitive chemicals here."
"I have sensitive needs!" she pouted as she looked up at him with doe-like eyes. Avallac'h realized that she had dilated them with belladonna. "Besides, this was the only place where I could find any mirrors."
Avallac'h scowled in annoyance as he bent down to pick up the frame of the broken mirror. It was a priceless artifact from the world of the Aen Seidhe and valuable piece of equipment.
"These mirrors are not for the attunement of your vanity. They are used for attuning light to-"
"Yes, yes, that's all so very fascinating..." she snubbed with a hand on her hip. "What news do you bring from the palace? Have you spoken with Auberon?"
Avallac'h ignored her as he placed the mirror on his desk with a thunk. He attempted to adjust the broken frame while the harpy screeched on in her prattle.
"I've upheld my end of the agreement! I told you everything that you wanted to know about Auberon's preferences. Of course, none of that could ever make the filthy dh'oine girl presentable enough to-"
The she-elf was interrupted with a tisk of disapproval as an elf in Dearg Ruadhri armor ducked his bald head through the entranceway. He would have cut an imposing figure if he hadn't leaned into the frame with a comical grin across his face.
"Well, well, Avallac'h..."
Avallac'h looked up momentarily from his ministrations. "General Imlerith," he addressed with indifference. "What brings you here?"
"Duty in the service of our king," Imlerith taunted as he walked over to the she-elf, removing his gloves. "Gratifying in its own right, but still a task I volunteered to perform more for the sheer curiosity of the thing." He inspected the she-elf with amusement as she obliged him with an enticing smile.
"Get to the point," Avallac'h demanded as he shrugged out of his cloak. He draped it across a chair before seating himself at his desk.
"I had to see it for myself," Imlerith chided as he caressed the she-elf's face with the back of his hand. "I never would have believed the dogmatic Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha capable of giving his affections to the living. So virtuously devoted in his unreciprocated affections towards the dead. Why, it was almost tragic..."
Avallac'h displayed no emotion or interest as he took a Gryphon quill from its inkwell, tapping it against the glass. There was a papery rasp as he set it to a piece of parchment.
"Then again," Imlerith continued as he withdrew his hand, "it is always easier when these things can be bought."
"I presume," Avallac'h asserted as his eyes followed the quill across paper, "that your sire uttered the same phrase upon soliciting your mother. Did he impart this story to you before, or after he became the mindless thrall of a hairy Succubus?"
Imlerith simply chuckled at the remark. Avallac'h set down the quill and raised himself from the chair, looking the general in the eye.
"I do not have time for your games, Imlerith. Why are you here?"
The she-elf turned away from Imlerith with a huff. "I do not belong to Avallac'h! These accommodations are... temporary. I belong in the palace with his majesty! I'm his favorite!"
"Thaesse!" Imlerith barked at the she-elf, his amusement with the creature now spent. He raised his hand as if to strike her, but the sage stepped between them both.
"That will not be necessary," Avallac'h exhorted as he pushed the she-elf aside without so much as a glance. He handled her with as much manner as he would a sack of rocks.
The she-elf blinked in astonishment at the general. "How dare you attempt to strike me!"
Imlerith brought the palm of his hand to his face in a snort before erupting into guttural laughter. The boisterous roar was so deafening that it seemed to echo off every tile in the laboratoy.
"She's no Lara Dorren, that's for sure!" Imlerith managed to spit out as he caught his breath. "Maybe you'll thank me for the improvement once her squawking head is removed from her shoulders, Avallac'h!"
"Touch a hair on my head," the she-elf screeched in defiance, raising her nose, "and his majesty will hear of it!"
"Of course he will. When I bring it to him. Attached to your bloede blond head!"
"I doubt," Avallac'h interjected curtly and calmly, "that our king shares your interest in the company I keep, Imlerith. Now, if your curiosity and vulgarity have been sufficiently indulged..."
"Bah!" Imlerith exclaimed impetuously, "I was sent by the king. Sent to bring his justice to this bloede whore!"
Avallac'h glanced back at the she-elf. She had a horrified expression and her heavy makeup did little to conceal that all the color had drained from her face.
"What crime could she possibly be accused of committing?" Avallac'h questioned.
"She gave the poison to your pet Dh'oine. The poison that was used to murder Auberon!"
The she-elf wilted like a flower onto the tile floor and broke into sobs. "No! This is all because of that dh'oine! I made that potion for the little dh'oine!" She grabbed at the crimson cape of the general amidst her groveling, but Imlerith kicked her hand away.
"Do you see? The dh'oine-conspiring whore admits it!"
"The potion was meant for her!" The she elf sniveled on. "I was turned away from the palace because of that detestable little dh'oine! I just wanted her to get what she deserved. I wanted to get back the life I deserve! He said it was needed for the little dh'oine. He said! The Commander-"
"Thaesse, you bloede bitch!" Imlerith spat, "Eredin will see you brought to justice!"
"Esseath d'yaebl, you devil!"
There was a thunderous bang as Avallac'h summoned an orb of rumbling light to interrupt them. It evaporated just as quickly with the twist of his wrist as he calmly spoke.
"This is the laboratory of the king. My laboratory. If justice is to be rendered here, it will be by my hand. Not your reckless mace, Imlerith..."
"Tch! I'm told this is Caranthir's laboratory now," Imlerith mocked as he crossed his arms. "But do as you will, Avallac'h. This should at least prove interesting."
The she-elf's hands balled into angry fists on the floor, her expression furious as she looked up at the sage.
"Avallac'h, you gave your word! Does the word of an Aen Saevherne mean so little?!"
"My word," Avallac'h stated heavily, "means more than you could ever know."
"I would have the life I deserve! The life I had in the palace! This is how you fulfill your promise? Your word?!"
His face had no emotion as he looked down at the pitiful sight of the she-elf.
"I gave you my word. You shall have what you deserve."
Hot tears of anger streamed from the she-elf's doe-like eyes. They mixed with her makeup and dripped to the floor in golden droplets.
Author's Notes
Aen Elle - People of the Alders in Elder Speech. The elves that left Geralt's world centuries ago.
Aen Ithlinnespeath - Ithlinne's prophecy about the world's end/rebirth.
Aen Seidhe - People of the Hills in Elder Speech. The elves of Geralt's world.
Aen Saevherne - Knowing One in Elder Speech. Elven sages. The most powerful type of mage.
Bloede - Bloody in Elder Speech.
Caed'mil - Greetings in Elder Speech.
Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha - Avallac'h's true elven name.
Dearg Ruadhri - Red Riders in Elder Speech. The Wild Hunt's horsemen.
Dh'oine - Human in Elder Speech. The Aen Elle view them as an inferior species.
Esseath d'yaebl - You devil in Elder Speech.
Geas Garadh - Magical Wall in Elder Speech. The barrier contorting space/time around the Aen Elle capitol.
Hen Ichaer - Elder Blood in Elder Speech. The blood of Lara Dorren. Ciri is the only remaining descendant.
Thaesse - Silence in Elder Speech.
Zireael - Swallow in Elder Speech. What the elves nicknamed Ciri.