Welcome to the world created by Andrzej Sapkowski and the story created by me. This story will in future contain graphic language and scenes of adult nature so viewer discretion is advised. Please drop comments and favs so i know i'm doing alright and also note that others may also upload on this account, our names will be in the story description so keep an eye out for me "KTillBillie". I hope you all enjoy and follow me on this journey I hope to create. This is my first story ever so constructive criticism is appreciated :)
Chapter 1 – So Very, Very Cold.
"Cold. So very, very cold. Why do I feel like this? Am I ok? Who am I? Who are they?" All these questions circle his head, filling him, giving him things to preoccupy himself with. Not that he needs it, time has no meaning to him. "Where am I? Goddammit I must stop asking these stupid questions, what does it matter? Why should I care?" It's been like this forever and no time at all. Drifting as an almost lucid dream around this stony chamber. Explorers come and explorers are then killed and have their bones picked free from any flesh by the same creature that lay him in this now forgotten tomb. "why must I remain here?" he asks himself pondering the status of his own, questionable, state of being. "TOO MANY QUESTIONS!"
"As much as I love to lose myself in my thoughts and often find it a way to waste hours at a time…" his ocean of a mind pondered, ripping his current of thought from his thoughts to the pressing matter of the group of 5, seemingly professional looking hooded and masked men trickling on in. light-footed and well-armed, one carrying a hefty metal cage under one arm, the other 4 carrying various one handed weapons. One held a long bladed staff with a scythe like blade and within it a swimming blue gem containing a flowing energy; the first man wore light armour with chain mail looking as if it were made of the finest steel from wherever this was to the plains only walked by the ones of elder blood. The second was draped in heavy and thick plates, carrying a huge war-hammer he could somehow wield with only his right arm. The third was in an almost skin-tight full-body snakeskin like attire. Snakeskin that grew baggy in long lines across various points, perhaps scars, along his body. His weapon sucked in his attention like a whirlpool: it ran across the length of his arm as he gripped it in his right hand, it's blade faced away from his arm in a long curve, as if to use it he would have to strike with his elbow and punch across his body to cut any significant wound. The final man, as he turned revealed to have no weapon at all, but instead carried some sort of pouch on his waste which, even to the vapour-like spirit in his most certainly non-physical state, seemed to feel as if it excreted power unknown to any.
The armed group held their blades ready and flanked the room, covering the one with a curved blade, like a ring of fire: creeping in on its victim, keeping their senses sharp as the fifth walked right up to a corner in the room and began to murmur inaudible things beneath their breath. Even without any noticeable forms of hearing the spirit felt a simmer of uneasiness roll over me. "What is he doing? Wait, I HEAR it! I can hear!"
"Return to us what was taken so quickly, so suddenly and so unjustly, return unto us our property lest it slip into worlds unknown." Something about those words sent a raging flame into the spirits body.
"I AM NO MANS PROPERTY" he blazed out, rising before him and laying a strong fist across their right cheek. A burn in his head started to kindle itself: causing a flare of pain to shoot down his spine: melting his legs free and allowing him to erupt into a flurry of movement.
Things began to happen quickly. The hood of the one who uttered the incantation flew back revealing the face of a hardened women with a trickle of crimson streaming from where he had hit her. A roar echoed from the back of the cave startling everyone and allowing the newly revived and already 'self-preservation focused' boy to rip the curved blade from her hand and with a backward shunt of his elbow dive it deep up into the woman's rib cage from her stomach and bring her close enough to stare into the stinging yellow eyes of the once spirit. Allowing him to stare right back at her deep blue ones. Blue like the tears that now mixed with blood. Blue as the light that could be seen from their entry point in the wall. Eyes not angry but sad, sad that he had done that, sad that this was the end, sad that he never herd what she said as she was dropped to floor and trampled by the terrified boy who ran at full speed past the still stunned, now 4, men staring down the screaming Bruxa.
Sunlight kissed his lips for the first time in longer than he could remember; wind ruffled his mahogany hair, chilling his muscularly built, 20-year-old body, one which felt as if it hadn't been used in years but continued growing, drawing from some unknown energy. Those radiant beams of sun warmed every ounce of his insides to the point where he felt he had not been sprinting from the pursuers he knew would follow: after dealing with the screaming Bruxa that still nibbled on his ringing ears. A salty, bitter and cool ocean air gave a tingling to his tongue and allowed him to become misted over by the sensation of taste so nostalgic to his light pink lips. A smell of blood lead him back into reality and pushed him onward warning him of the danger, he knew not of the details. Run. That's all he knew. So: that's what he did, he picked a direction and with light foot so he wasn't followed, he ran. He chose his direction and began on, anew, more or less prepared for what his fate may bring him.
With his heel turned and mind set he strayed away from the maw of his undoing and rest for all those years and he let slip from his mind the fate that he had left the four others to deal with, a fate they handled with impressive expertise. From the beast of misfortune that swallowed his body now emerged 4, slightly shaken and well built warriors ready to avenge the death of the fallen comrade they let out to sea and burnt with arrows. A funeral for a queen here on Skellige. An end to one story so one could begin anew and fill the world with terrors and glories that she had in her past. A past that would not: get a Second Chance.
This is the beginning of my first series which i have yet to name at the time of writing this but I know this is the first book: Second Chance and will follow our mysterious character along a journey where he'll see new and old faces to him and us. Feel free to text me any theories you have as i love to plant in mysteries :P My official kik for S and K Scrawlings is S-and-K Scrawlings (SKScrawlings-User). I'd love to keep connected with you guys Updates won't be regular though due to school work :(