THE WITCHER


Judgement of the Holy Flames


.I.

The year was 1277, it is the middle of Feainn, almost two years after the retreat of the Nilfgaardian armies from the northern kingdoms, those left with their cock in hand, decided to rebuild Temeria's throne and court of intrigues. Vernon Roche, commander of the Blue Stripes, was among those that led the reconstruction of the kingdom, helped by Kaedweni's royal advisors he managed to build a skeleton, above which he and his close group of court mages and advisors from Temeria and Kaedwen would build upon. The next vital point in the continuation of the kingdom was the king, who had to be chosen.

In that time Geralt spend most of his days and nights with Yennefer, taking few contracts from time to time. Also he trained the child of the prophecy, the one that has elder blood flowing in her veins, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon or just Ciri. One day he and Ciri left for Brugge where they had a contract. The two leaved Corvo Bianco and the duchy of Toussaint because Yennefer left for few weeks to join the other members of the Lodge of Sorceresses in Temeria, Vizima. After ending their contract in Brugge, the two witchers then adventured further south, to Attre. Where, soon after their arrival, a request from an important figure of the underworld asked for Geralt of Rivia, one that he didn't plan to refuse, from a man called Vivio Vassco.

'Geralt of Rivia, a sight to behold...',

'Mhm, especially after your men almost tried to kill me, you mean.', grunted Geralt.

'They are dumb shits, I have to tell them everything, word by word. I hope you can forgive their incompetence.'

'Depends, what's the reason you asked for me ?'

'I've a contract for you, Geralt. You see, my daughter, Shintia, got herself in a giant fucking shit of trouble...'

'Zoltan told you about me ?'

'Huh, he did mention you some years back. But, this time I heard of your visit to Attre from the one of the guards stationed there.'

'Why me ?'

'You are the best, from what I heard, and I want nothing but the best for this. Find my daughter and kill if needed those who want her harmed.'

'Do you know anyone who may want her...harmed ?'

'None, if some of them were still alive I would be the one holding a blade to their throat now. Not send a witcher to kill them and find my daughter.'

He paused a bit, for he took a sip from the ale he had in his golden goblet, that he held in his left hand.

'She had traveled a few years before the war to Novigrad. Stayed there during the war as I advised, for a travel back here could've cost her life.', continued the issuer of the contract, 'She got herself among those followers of the Church of the Eternal Fire during her stay there. But that was then, now, she had sent through a messenger a letter, that was less than a week ago, in which she mentioned being in danger.'

'You have a lot of enemies, I presume, could be that one of them is trying, if not succeeded already, to kidnap your daughter. Using her for ransom.'

'If it is so, you must find the fuckers and butcher the shit out of them. Take my daughter and bring her home, understood ?'

'Pretty sure I do.'

'Good. Fulfill the contract and a generous amount of gold awaits you. Fail, and you will face certain consequences.'

'Any leads on where I should start ?'

'She mentioned in the letter that she was in a place called Lothorn, near the Amell Mountains.'

'Anything else ?'

'Nothing worth mentioning.'

'Fine, time I was on my way. Farewell.'

'See you soon, witcher. Ah, almost forgot. One of my men is waiting for you outside, he'll take you across the lake.'

Geralt nodded his head, then continued on his way to the door, then the gate of the castle, passed which should be the man that will get him back to the shore of the pond, where at a stable was his mare, Roach.

The fortress had been constructed several centuries back. 10th century, perhaps. On an isle in the middle of a lake, that as the tales say, was filled with crocodiles by the lord of the castle. A vile man, who as few other stories mention that he married his own cousin. His wife gave him four sons, healthy, not monstrous, hideous and mutilated, but normal, beautiful children. Who as they grew older became greedy and years later when their sick, dying father had to chose one of them to rule the castle in his stead they started to quarrel. He chose the youngest, who, as he knew his brothers will be jealous of him, killed them in their sleep. An old folk tale.

When he got through the gate, he was awaited by a tall man, bald, with a goatee.

'You the witcher ?'

'Yes.'

'Get on the boat.'

Geralt did as the man instructed and got on the boat, and so did the man who steered it to the other side of the lake. The man, did not seem very talkative, quiet, mute, if you could say so, said not even one word during the time spent on the boat.

When they did reached the shore of the lake, the man only stopped so that Geralt got off the boat then went back to the fortress on the isle.

After that he went to the stables to get Roach, from where he planned to go straight towards the pass trough the Amell Mountains, west, to the village of Lothorn.

'Good, your back, one more minute and I would've stole a boat to get to the isle.', said the ashen haired woman.

'Ciri...I thought we settled on you staying in Attre while I do this.'

'I got bored and followed your tracks here.'

'Hmm, nicely done.'

'I know, right ? So, where next ?'

'The pass through the Amell Mountains. After that, to a village west of them, called Lothorn.'

'Great, let's get going...'

They traveled half the distance to the village, as the night fell upon the lands of Cintra, then they stopped at the side of the road and made camp, where they spent the night. The next morning both got back on the road and reached Lothorn around noon. It was not a village, or not one that you'd call a village, more of a town, build around an old fort, that was almost in ruins. Inside the town, were at least five brothels, few more taverns and three inns, and among them, peasant huts, houses and more houses.

Geralt and Ciri went to one of the inns where they'd hope to get a room, and something to eat and drink. When they'd decided which, they have stopped in front of it and took their horses to the stables.

'I like this one.', said Ciri, while the growl of her empty stomach made it in the background of the conversation, 'I'm so hungry...'

'Go inside, find a table, order the food and drinks and ask about rooms. While I take Roach and Kelpie to the stables.'

'Alright then.', responded Ciri, handing Geralt her horse reins.