Alber was well and truly fucked, he focused on the strumpet sitting on his lap and her head grew into 3, all 6 eyes crinkling in feigned laughter and the elderly man's hands groping tightly at her clothing. He looked again at the velvet ridden walls which spun in circles, and the voices of the guests fading in and out.
Thunder cracked.
Alber jumped, nearly knocking Ilucia, Lucia..Lusie..off his lap.
"Ploughin' hell, rain nearly put out the eter..nal fire" he grumbled, the whore nodded smiling weakly and looking around to find any other suitable patriots. Alber grumbled, nudging the whore off his lap and stood up, balancing against the silken seat as the drunken haze overcame him. His doublet felt too tight, his palms sweating and he felt the eyes of the patriots looking over in his direction. He looked to his crotch to see if he'd fucking pissed himself again, ploughin' vodka made him do that. "Paranoid old git" he grumbled and began walking toward the lower exit door, too drunk to get his todger up anyway he reckoned.
"Uff..pardon me mh lady" he sloshed as he stepped to the side after shouldering one of the whores, knocking into a table of wine, grabbing a bottle before it spilled over a gentleman conversing with two blonde haired lasses.
"It's nothing, you're excused" a.. Zerrikanian voice replied lowly. Alber creakily turned his head to look at the whore, he hadn't heard of the Brothel's bringing in southern girls. A small thing met his eyes briefly. She was dressed mostly in black, drenched from the rain, her hair a wet mess of waves, black? Dark brown perhaps? Alber furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to curse Zerrikanians but the girl had moved on, and he dragged his feet out of the door into the rain.
The girl felt the eyes on her as she quickly waved her way past the whores and guests, most sniffing the air at her, others trying to place if the girl was a whore here.
"Can I help you lass?" a buxom brunette stepped in front of the girl, her dress cut to her midriff, slightly too large on one side and revealing a lot of breast, even for a whore. The strumpet's voice smelled of wine and a night spent with multiple men. The girl looked past the whore, as though looking for someone, until finally accepting the whore's question
"I want to speak to your madam" she replied, motionless and maintaining eye contact for a little too long, the whore looked away
"Looking a job are we? You look a little young sweet thing"
"No" the girl monotonously replied, though her voice was tinged with slight annoyance, clearly fed up with wasting her time and breath on this whore. The brown haired whore raised an eyebrow and considered questioning the lass further, but thought better against it, the lass made her a little uneasy, especially with that Zerrikanian accent.
"Alright, mam is upstairs, if you need anything else just ask any of our girls, anything at all pretty little thing" the whore smiled suggestively, reckoning the girl was of age, her guesses confirmed when the girl took off her hooded cape to reveal a woman's body, a black armoured corset and a dark grey man's shirt which had seen better days and had better buttons. Her shirt was missing a sleeve off of her right arm, and the neckline only came to the girls shoulders, Zerrikanian fashion the whore sniffed.
"Where's ya shoes?" the whore slightly laughed as she looked to the girls feet. The dark haired girl wore foot wraps, like a scoia'tel bitch.
"I needed coin and preferred not wearing shoes" the girl replied and moved passed the whore, as other guests eyes her continuously, men measuring up their chances with the pretty new whore.
"Oi Zerrikania, I got a spear that you can wield!" a poxen man yelled, grabbing at his crotch and rubbing it as she moved passed him to the red carpeted steps
Madam took a small bag of crowns off the intoxicated man and whispered something into his lady for the night's ear, causing the lady to sigh and nod, leading the man into an opposite room. The muffled sounds of moaning, and some vomiting filled the air, well known sounds to her. She caught a whiff of a new scent and turned her head to the right to see a girl approach her, slightly wet but drying from the rain outside. The smell of citrus and a strong scent she couldn't place filled her nose, it was a foreign scent, the girl looked foreign.
"Welcome to the Passiflora my dear, we don't see many women looking service here, though we do have men if you're looking a bit of meat for the night, i'll find a man that suits you well...you do speak common girl?" Madam questioned the girl, who sighed and nodded.
"I do, and that's not why I'm here.."
"Zerrikanian, oh, I haven't seen a Zerrikanian in the North since before the war, perhaps that will change now the war is over many months, you have heard haven't you? You've surely seen the devastation done to Velen, the dead and marsh creatures are the only things that live there" the madam joked half heartedly, the girl stuck her tongue to her lower lip impatiently
"I have heard, I have seen, but I'm not Zerrikanian, I'm Gallitian, and yes the Velen folk did seem to reek of death" the girl replied in a sarcastic joking manner, though nothing more than a brief smirk appeared on her lips, blink and you would have missed. The Madam raised her chin, and opened her mouth to question but the girl already knew the question.
"Gallitia is a small principality, declared not acknowledged, in the north east of Zerrikania, very like this Novigrad though perhaps nearly half the size of..Temeria? I think that was the name of that country. They're often confused and rather interchangeable so I don't usually correct others, but you in the north lack trust in those from the south, so I usually make the distinction." the girl quickly replied though with disinterest, as though she had explained this a thousand times. Madam nodded her head, Zerrikanians had a more singing sound to their voices, the girl's voice was harsher, though she could see how distinction would be difficult.
"How is it that you speak common then?" Madam curiously asked, an intelligent southerner was a rarity. The girl could see through the question
"Who doesn't speak common nowadays. I'm not here to give you a history lesson I'm afraid, I do however need a room for the night and perhaps tomorrow" the girl replied in a hurried tone, relieved to finally get to what she came to this establishment for.
The Madam brushed off the hidden insult and laughed at the girls statement.
"This is a brothel my dear, a whore house, not an inn on tavern, seek your rest there", the girl furrowed her eyebrows, and crossed her arms
"In Gallitia, the finer whorehouses also had rooms for staying, since they were usually the nicest establishments in town, free of bedbugs, and that other place, Crippled Kate's, is not somewhere I'd want to rest in a city, especially one like this" the girl stated. The Madam looked at her questioningly
"I'll take that as a compliment of my place intended or not. Why would anyone want to stay in a brothel?"
"Velvet sheets, satin blankets and the smell of sweating nudity in the air" the girl replied, Madam half rolled her eyes at the girls response, so the girl gave a more serious reply
"Like I said, nicer establishments. I also feel more at ease in a place such as this. I have coin for two nights, after than I will be gone, give me a small room if it pleases you, you will hardly notice my presence, I can leave during the days if you like" the girl explained, taking a small coin curse from her belt, the only one she had it seemed, she did look rather gaunt. The madam sighed and looked again to the girl, young thing she was.
"I...suppose I could put you in a room on the top floor, its small, two nights yes, and I hope you can put up with moaning and trashing all night?" the Madam sighed, but perked slightly as the girl smiled back, revealing a dimple on her left cheek
"Nothing I haven't heard before, thank you." the girl sighed happily
"That why you feel at ease then, in such places?" the madam asked, the girl hearing the leading question
"You could say, but not a story I'll share with someone I don't know. My name is Ellanora, Ella for short, that something I will share" the girl nodded. Ellanora, pretty name, but a northern name, though the madam knew she could question no further.
"You wear a citrus perfume, but what else can I smell of you? It's odd, though rather pleasant"
"Its eucalyptus, leaves that grows on a small tree. I also strain a small amount of fruit called passion fruit, it only grows in the south. I also like its name, leads to interesting conversations" Ella smiled, but gathered her things and moved on to the top floor, having her fill of conversation for the evening. The Madam watched the curious girl go, before her moment of peace and curiosity was interrupted by the intoxicated man from earlier being dragged out by the ear by the now naked whore, wearing a suit of vomit.
They had fixed her a bath, it was warm, warm water was a wonderful change from months of lakes and streams. It was petaled with lavender and soaps, the north did have strange soaps, they didn't smell like they could clean you, rather mask you in pleasant smells in vain hope of covering the smell of sweat and shit. Ella looked around her modest accommodations, modest wasn't the correct word, she hadn't had many luxuries in her life, perhaps none at all, but these days a place to rest your head and call a sort of temporary home seemed certainly a luxury, it had been a while since she had that...travelling...constant travelling. The wooden bath creaked as she shifted her weight, lowering herself further into the water. The small fire going in a hearth radiated heat around her face, it was comforting, and comfort was a wonderful thing to feel again. Enveloped in a wet lavender blanket she felt sleep tempting her, it had been a long day she told herself, but it was to early, her mind fighting itself until her faint and tired body won.
.
A familiar smell of wheat filled her nostrils, familiar though aged. She lay blanketed by the grain, entirely nude apart from her necklace, that of silver and a small diamond pendant shaped to form a star. Years it had been, she was younger when she last dreamt here. It was a recurring dream she had been having, weeks went by and she couldn't escape this place in the corners of her mind by nightfall. It was perhaps 5, nearly 6 years ago when it became a nightmare rather than a dream, wakening in a frozen field of grain, the sky the colour of fire and blood, but nothing ever came to her, because when dreaming or having a nightmare in this place, she was always alone.
Apart from a distinct smell of musk, blood, lilac and a berry she did not know.
The nightmare ended and she never returned to this place in her dreams
So why now?
She pushed herself up from her golden bed and looked once again to the trees in the distance.
Still blooming, always in bloom.
She made her way towards them as she had always done, her many travels toward the trees still apparent in the flattened wheat, the place had laid still from the last time, sleeping, perhaps having its own dream.
Blooming trees in the distance growing closer.
Her dreams usually composed of a long, slowed walk to these trees, seeming to stretch further away from her the closer she got. She was always aware that this was a dream, more so than any other dreams she had. It seemed so significant but she woke from her slumber before she got the chance to discover why she always came to this place, never reaching the destination of the blooming trees.
White leaves falling like droplets into the growth, disappearing into their predecessors, soft beautiful snow that smells of flowers.
Her pace was no faster than the times before, longer strides from longer, older legs perhaps, but the orchard grew closer, closer than she had ever seen it, what was she to do when she reached her destination? Her goose bumped arms in the soft breeze crossed over her chest, instinctively for protection, who was there, what was there?
Smell of lilac is strong, blood, musk and sweat. The trees do not die here.
She stopped before the first tree, its white blooms blowing gently towards her, as if the hands of children reaching out to playfully grab her, draw her closer. Eva shifted nervously, was she to enter? Or simply observe. The times she imagined if she would reach the trees yet she never considered the possibility that she would, much less plan a course of action, move forward, walk away?
The dream is longer, you will not wake up, not now. Lilac drawing you in, soft silk on your skin, wrapping around you to pull you forward, comfort and a warm embrace, peace.
She stepped onto the fallen blooms which carpeted the orchard, thousands, and yet the trees were not bare, they were never bare, unending bloom. Soft and warm under her feet, she wriggled her toes, smiling childishly. She sighed and it seemed to echo in the silence of this place, the only sounds were her heartbeat and the gentle rustling of flower blooms. It was quiet. It was lonely. Why was she always alone?
"I want to wake up" Ella whispered to the trees, their reply was the hush of the blooms in the wind. "My curiosity is sated, I have reached the trees, they offer nothing" She stated again, slowly looking around. Ella brought her thumb and forefinger to her cheek, pinching it in hope to wake herself. Wincing at her stupidity and in slight pain she digressed.
Not yet, Aelin Gwynbleiid
"I was younger the last time I was here, I'm older now, I can understand. This isn't an ordinary place, I've never been here, so what brings me here? A spectre, relic? A sort of monster I have yet to read about? One that buries itself into your mind, trapping you and spreading its fingers into your head so that reality itself is no longer clear?! " Ella asked the silence, slight anger in her voice as she clenched her jaw and fists and wandered the orchard.
"I know that monster, the one that manifests in you heart and mind, one that cannot be killed without ultimately destroying yourself" she whimpered.
"Many a man have tried to deceive that monster, perhaps it cannot be killed without the mind fighting back, fighting with change" an unfamiliar voice replied, the voice was sweet, like a cherried, honeyed wine, but it was not that of a child's.
Ella spun around, her hands slightly spread in defense. The gentle breeze had stopped, the trees stood still, the only sound was now her own breathing, and heartbeat, heartbeat, heartbeat...and the sound of a gentle laugh.
"Maith go, aelin gwynbleiid, syr nae e ashanea...Does surprise always render you to fight?" the voice laughed. Ella furrowed her eyes, staring to the ground yet still on high alert.
"My life has rendered it so" Ella replied angrily, "Show yourself, who are you, this is my dream, nothing lives here...only the trees"
"The unknown belongs to us all, and to those with an understanding" the voice replied, it sounded closer, it was a woman of that Ella was sure, but...
"Nae, myra maith go...show yourself, do as I've asked" she growled to the emptiness of the trees. The voice sighed, but complied. The trees began shifting slightly, the breeze beginning once more. Ella, still tense, once again moved her head to look around. There was a slight, light press of feet she could hear on the ground, it was very low, but Ella was able to hear it. Ella turned her head to the right to follow the sound, a smell of the earth filled her nostrils, the shifting of light leaves and flowers filled her ears. She turned fully around to see the owner of the mysterious voice.
An Elf.
An elf she did not know.
The elf was tall, a good head taller than Ella. Her body very slim, porcelain and unblemished. Her eyes a captivating sea of grass, more green than the fields Ella had seen in Tretagor. The Elf, along too with Ella, wore no clothes, perhaps clothes were an unnecessary manifestation in this alternate world, or dream, or whatever this confusing place was. Ella admired the beauty of the elf, moving as though a deer would through a dense forest, the elf moved through their dense forest.
"You know our tongue, elder speech, myr bhanen, aelin gwynbleiid" the elf spoke, in her wine voice, tongue rolling over her words, as though the sentence was both her lover and his mouth. Ella nodded, curiosity and, well though she hated to admit it, attraction overtaking her initial hostility. The elf, seemingly taking advantage of this, threw her ruby red hair over her slender shoulder, her pointed ear poking through.
"Yes, I do. Why do you keep calling me "young white wolf"?" Ella questioned. The Elf raised an eyebrow and smiled, motioning with a slight jerk of the head for Ella to follow her, she complied.
"Tell me, do you know this place?" the elf questioned, moving as though wind through an open space past the trees. Ella had a more difficult time weaving her way through the orchard.
"I assumed it was one of my dreams, but now that you've suddenly appeared, im not so sure" Ella replied, becoming more confused as each long minute drew on. The elf chuckled slightly, looking back to her.
"No, tis a dream aelin gwynbleiid, but even one's own mind cannot be a closed cage"
"Here I thought my mind held safe harbour. Who are you then? And why are you here...and what is "here" Ella asked. The elf, cocked her head, appearing to carefully think over her answer, before smirking and looking again to Ella.
"It is where the apple trees bloom eternal"
Eva raised both her eyebrows, she...hadn't heard of that place, never-mind visited it.
"Ynys Trygwdidoldieb, you may recognize it in elder tongue" the elf replied to Ella's internal question. Ella racked her brain to place that familiar name, when it clicked and she looked in disbelief to the elf
"I am not dead, not that I'm aware of, and I'm not an elf...how or, why, and?" she rambled, a knot tying in her stomach at the prospect of this afterlife, this Elven afterlife.
She looked to the trees, the apple trees, blooming eternal.
"No, it is a dream, like you said, like it is." the elf explained in a whispered voice, slinking like rain slowly running down a leaf.
"But how can I dream of a place I have never been to, much less will ever visit" Ella asked, trying to control the slight twinge of panic apparent in her voice
"Memories of those in our heart, soul, and blood are powerful, their memories are powerful" the elf replied nonchalantly, looking to the ground, then looking again to Ella
"Follow me" she said, though that's what Ella was already doing, and the elf looked as though she would ignore Ella's further questioning of her last statement.
They continued on through the eternally blooming apple orchard, it seemed as though it continued on for miles, years. Ella squinted her eyes to look further into the distance. The sun shone high in the sky, reflecting like a mirror against a still lake. The lake stretched further than Ella's eyes could see, perhaps it was more than a lake, perhaps it was a sea, or an ocean. Ella sighed and looked to the sky, or perhaps it's all just a dream.
The shore smelled heavily of lilac and berries.
Ella stood silently, motionless, staring at the tiny waves lapping around her feet. Though confusion still gripped her mind, there was a sense of peace here, a short peace, and happiness, one she felt a strange understanding to, a strange sense of belonging to this happiness. The elf walked slowly to Ella's side, looking on to the distance. Ella fixed her eyes on the elf. She stood tall and motionless, staring as though a statue, looking beyond the lake. Her red hair cascaded down her back and lapped along the shore of her waist. Ella looked away from the elf and tried to get a sense of what she was looking at, then she heard the slight movement of water and saw the elf walk slowly further into the lake, the water climbing eagerly up her body.
"Wait, where are you going?" Ella cried. The elf turned her head slightly, raised her arms to trail her hands along the water
"I am a manifestation of you dream, do not worry, I cannot die, we cannot die here, the apple trees bloom eternal"
"But why did you bring me to this lake, why did you suddenly appear after many years of never dreaming of this place?" she replied, forcefully stopping herself from chasing after the elf through the now rippling water. The elf turned to face her, water now just below her breasts, small and dimpled, her nipples perked in the cold of the water.
"Because you would not have the motivation to do so yourself. You only push yourself when you are pushed yourself. Look why you lay in a bath in Novigrad, then argue with me" she stated, not with spite or disgust, but with fact, and so Ella did not find it in herself to retort. The elf began to slowly turn, her shoulders now submerged in the water, before again turning finally to Ella
"Aelin gwynbleiid, Lyr en gwynbleiid...you are his, he is yours. Find peace wolves"
With that she had disappeared as the sun began to shine brightly in Ella's eyes, preventing her from watching the elf's departure. She didn't even ask her name, though Ella decided to give her a nickname as she had done her, " an Fiana, the push".
"Gwynbleiid" Ella said the word, the white wolf. The word exited her mouth in a familiar feel, she had never said this before and yet she felt like she had uttered the word a thousand times. She focused again on the lake, shining as though a silver necklace at night. Ella paused and looked to the sky, it was night? The stars glittered, like a young girl looking into her first lover's eyes. The moon a crescent, brighter than she had seen it before, shining so clearly onto the lake that Ella wasn't sure where the lake ended and the sky began.
Lilac and berries, blood and musk, smell of...smell of the air after giving oneself fully to them who own their heart.
She looked to her right, following those smells which now filled her nostrils with a stronger fervour than before.
Raven hair flowing in locks down her back, hand placed on the back of a wolf with fur as white as snow
As white as the blooms of the apple trees
Gwnbleiid...
Ella found herself running toward these figures, but even their slow walk made them move further and further away from her. As fast as she could possibly go was not enough, her hardest was not enough, her best was never enough. Ella stretched out her arms further, not by choice, her mind a race, and the thought of reaching these apparitions was the only thing that made itself clear in the crashing sea which had become her thoughts
"Wait, please stop...don't leave me, not again" escaped her lips in a voice that did not sound like her own, more of a child's voice, a desperate child clinging on to false hope that they would stay, that she could reach them, fix the past, make it right, make it happy.
Lilac and Gooseberries, the smell is gooseberries.
The air felt cold, a fog of condensation escaped her mouth as she exhaled heavily, exhaustion filling her lungs. She closed her eyes, in hope that they would appear closer when she opened them, willing her legs to push harder against the sandy ground.
She fell into water, gasping for breath as she quickly returned to the surface. Cold, the water was very, very cold. She looked to the woman and her wolf. The wolf jumped angrily at nothing, the woman raised her arms as those to cast a spell at nothing, then turning to face the wolf. Ella couldn't see her face, only the waving of black curls in the now heavy breeze, the storm.
The wolf howled, the woman disappeared. The wolf began running at full speed into the nothing, until Eva could see nothing.
The sky went on fire again.
The lake froze.
Ella punched and kicked at the ice ceiling above her head, screaming inside as her lungs ached and begged for air which she could not give them.
"Aelin gwynbleiid, the trees do not die here, we do not die here, wolves do not die here"
Ella jolted up from under the now lukewarm waters of her bath, stems of lavender stuck in her hair and her chest aching with lack of air, she began coughing and inhaling deeply to take away the ache and pain of her tense lungs. She gripped the edges of the bath and hoisted herself quickly out of the water, wrapping herself in course sheepskin blankets and sitting on the edge of her small, worn linen bed by the window. A small breeze of late winter air rushing in, and the sounds of cherry trees rustling in the late night. She rested her chin on her fists and closed her eyes, trying to shake that nightmare from her mind.
She felt the ache and pain of a loss she only barely understood remained.
.
"You ain't got enough, Zerrikanian" the merchant gruffed, counting, or rather pretending to, her coin. Ella shook her head and pointed roughly at the silver in his hand.
"There is enough, the exact amount in fact, 21 Orens."
"Prices' went up"
"You don't have that mentioned on your sign"
"We're just after a war here girl, if you looking a free meal go back to your own fucking country with sand in your cunt"
"Charming man aren't you? Anyway there's no way that bread and grain could cost over twenty of your fucking orens"
"You don't have enough now plough off ya fuckin whore" the merchant spat through yellow chipped teeth, jerking his dirt stained hand at Ella who scowled, grabbing her coin from his, she assumed, diseased hand and stormed off. She hated this city, she hated the north. She hated the unfamiliar and disgusting smells, she hated how the men would leer at her, and how others would glare at the outsider, she hated outside the cities, she hated the death and emptiness of it, she hated the blood soaked mud that she had to wade through, she hated the hundreds of dead animals which would only make themselves apparent when she got within a few feet of them. She hated how fucking cold it was. She continued cursing how she hated this world as she wove her way through the strange alleys, hearing people talk about her as they assumed she didn't speak common. She had been in the city for two days, and that was two days too long. Novigrad capital of the world? Not 'ploughing' likely, this place felt dirty and wrong and corrupt. Ella felt the hypocrisy in her thoughts but gave them no acknowledgement, she hated this place and that was final.
She strolled up through the poor district, "The bits" she recalled it being named. A shady looking man eyed her up and down as she walked past him, eyeing her up like a golden candelabra. She tensed her shoulders in preparation for what was next if she had her guesses right, but the man surprised her by tapping her on the shoulder. Ella glanced around at the young man with straw like hair.
"I heard you are low on coin kid" he smirked, his nasal voice seemed more attuned to a strangled cat. She sighed and bit her lip. The man then, assuming she didn't speak good common, tapped at a coin purse on his belt, motioning money with his fingers. Ella flared her nostrils in annoyance and gave a sarcastic smile
"I'm not a whore, nor will I do anything a whore will do for coin"
"Ah good, you can speak proper"
"Oh yes, proper indeed, I learned the words 'fuck off you opportunist' the other day, turns out I'm not so stupid after all!"
"We got ourselves a joker 'er. Pay attention sharp tongue or you could end up with it cut out. I wasn't asking for a fuck, though you'd look like you'd be good up against a wall with your mouth held shut. Nah I was gonna offer you an opportunity for some coin since yous low on it."
"I'm not interested"
"You ain't even heard what I was gonna say yet girl. I see your well equipped with weapons, two swords? Like a witcher or somethin'? You have them on your sides though, not yer back, can't be one of them poxxed lot"
"You're smarter than you look, i'll give you that" Ella replied, looking past the man. He scowled at her, his face becoming more red with every insult, Ella reckoned she could turn him into a tomato within 2 minutes.
"And you got a scar on your mouth and near your eye, I'd reckon you've been in a few scruffs, ain't I right?..knew it yeah. I work for someone who is pretty high up in these parts, I make my coin, a fair bit aye, and I can give you an opportunity to make some of this too. You can fight a bit for a woman yeah, I gathered that... all you-" the man smirked through browned teeth and cheap vodka breath
"I told you I'm not interested sir, im not staying here longer than I need to and im not involving myself in shady dealing with scrawny thugs like yourself, no thanks. This place is dangerous enough for me without throwing myself into any possible death situations. You' re right, I can fight. I can fight very well. So I suggest you take yourself off and find someone with less common sense than me." Ella cut him off, placing her hand on her left sword hilt, staring carefully at the man. The man clenched his jaw, threw a bit more insults her way and stormed off in the opposite direction, though glancing over his shoulder to see if the foreign girl with the two swords was following him. Ella closed her eyes, sighing heavily.
"I really hate this place."
She had been kicked out of the Passiflora this morning. She caught a man in her room while she was still sleeping, stark naked attempting to climb on top of her. Needless to say he wouldn't be blessing this world with any children any time soon, nor courting any woman with the scar he'll now have on his neck. Self defense was apparently inexcusable in that establishment, so Ella was glad to leave. The question now was where could she rest a night. Busying herself for the majority of the day and sightseeing in this wonderful and not at all awful city had gotten most of the day in, but the winter sun was going down and the sky shone a late afternoon orange. She thought about leaving the city and continuing northward, but she needed to find a few more things out, the trouble being she didn't know where she could find answers. She continued on in god's knows what direction, corners and alleyways continuing, why did northerners build their cities so maze like? That capital, Vizima, wasn't as bad as this, and that wasn't the most pleasant. She looked to a group of children loitering outside a house. They ranged from 10-14 by the look of them, ragged clothes and ragged hair placed them as residents of the area. Ella walked a bit closer to listen to their conversation which peeked her interest.
"Yeah they was holding a mage in this house, sorceress I think, that one with the red hair.." the girl of about 12 stated, wearily eyeing the house, a mix of caution and what looked like disgust placed on her expression.
"'er name was Triss Merrigold, not remember them posters? Loadsa coin to whoever caught her, guess she never burned on the pyre though" one of the boys piped up, picking at his nose.
"I seen her once before, some tits on her, and arse. Still she was a witch, but she'd be worth it mind" an older boy replied with laughter, though it sounded nervous, like he was waiting for the alleged sorceress to appear and give him a fireball to the head.
"I heard she helped all them other mages and witches escape novigrad, fled on a boat or somehing-"
"Oh yeah I heard that too! With a witcher too, suppose that makes sense, theys nearly the same ain't they? That one who'd been 'anging about, can't remember his name.."
"He was the butcher of blavikken numpty, Geralt his name is, my pa was talking 'bout him the other day, he seen him cut a man right in half, straight down the middle!"
"shit"
"aye"
"I heard witchers always sleep with sorceresses too, maybe they was together, that why he helped her?"
"Anything for a fuck my pa always says"
Ella shook her head at the chatter, but they mentioned that name, his name, that was worthy of interest. She considered going up to them but decided against it, it was all kid rumours she supposed, but there seemed to be some truth in it, there had to be?. As she began to approach them, a heavy woman appeared in the doorway the infamous house with a broom in hand and thunder in her face.
"What've I told ye rats about 'anging around here, shoo, now! Before I get the temple guard down here to kick all yer arses in, mangy trouts" she bellowed, shaking her broom in the air with such fervour it would've bruised the very breeze itself. The kids began quickly moving, but not without one getting the last word in.
"We knows you love mages miss fletchem! Many more you got stuffed up yer skirt?! By the looks of that belly about 30" one of the boys yelled to the approval of the others who began hooting and laughing as they jogged away. The woman tightened her lips and sighed with annoyance, placing a hand on her head and the other leaning against the broom. It appeared this was a daily occurrence, true in all parts of the world with young children eager to impress their friends and terrorize quick tempered elderly women. Ella eyed the woman up and down, 50, perhaps older. Lines on her face seemed to be stress related, as well as constant grimacing mixed with age, she seemed a hard woman, especially living in the area she did. Ella approached the old woman to ask for assistance, or perhaps give the woman a listening ear. The woman looked up to see Ella approach and raised her broom again.
"Away with ye foreigner, don't know why we let your kind into the city. You understand that? Piss off, FUCK OFF" the woman hissed. Ella stopped a good 8 foot from the woman, and raised her hands.
"I was just hoping you could help me, im not here to cause some..foreign trouble" Ella explained, a broom to the face was not something she needed or wanted right now. The woman lifted her chin slightly, a questioning expression appeared on her face. Ella lowered her hands with the hostility receding slightly.
"Hows it you can speak proper girl" the woman asked, screwing her face into a confused frown. That's where all those wrinkles come from then.
"My mother taught me, she...was an intelligent woman, believed I should be able to speak the common tongue"
"Hmph"
"Those..kids trouble you often?"
"Often enough, good for nothin' little shits"
"I could..talk to them if you want-"
"Nah, kids will be kids, even if they are little snot-nosed brats. Serves me right for holding a bleeding mage in my lodgings, eternal fire protect us" the woman spat, recalling a memory of hers in her broken bricks, before looking to Ella again, with renewed hostility in her manner.
"You ain't a mage is you? Foreign means different, magic and everything, if you is you need to get away right now before I get the guar-"
"No, I'm not a mage, just a traveller, see the swords? And notice no poultices or books hanging from my belt?" Ella quickly replied. The woman, turning those rusty cogs in her brain for a decision, stared at Ella, who raised her eyebrows and smiled reassuringly, though with growing annoyance. The North was not very different from the Southern lands on their view of magic, it was unnatural and barbaric. Ella always noted that a country who worshipped dragons should perhaps have a more lenient view on magic, the paranormal and "unnatural", but alas, one cannot teach an old dog new tricks, nor a nation not to hate.
"Right. If yous lying, the temple guards will get ye, i'll get them for ye, like I got them for that red-haired witch whore."
"Duly noted ma'am, now can I ask you for the assistance that I've been seeking from you"
"hmph?"
"Is there any inns, taverns or anywhere I can rest a night for low coin? When I got here I heard of a place called the...rosemary and chime? Or was it thyme...Regardless-"
"That places' called the Chameleon now, some good for nothing bard runs it, dresses up like a peacock, can't miss him or that dive"
"Chameleon that's near the southern gate isn't it? Or rather near here?"
"Yeah."
"Right...thank you. Also impressive broom wielding skills, I'll contact you if the dust ever rises and forms into a monster" Ella gracefully thanked the woman, who rolled her eyes and slammed the door behind her. Ella grinned and walked away.
.
A green and gold, and very badly drawn, chameleon was placed above the doorway. The windows were relatively clean, and the presence of a dwarf and half-ling for doormen put Ella's mind slightly to ease on what kind of establishment this place was. It definitely sounded like a whore house, or a whorehouse trying to sound exotic. Chameleon? Ella shook her head once again at its name. The dwarf opened the door for her, with a nod of his head which seemed like an acknowledgement of them both being outsiders, odd as dwarves were not a common sight in the far south. Ella entered the renowned tavern.
It wasn't too crowded, enough to move about a bit, but perhaps enough to spill your drink. A small stage was to the right wall, at the middle of the main room. A serving bar to the left near the entrance, and a sea of people in between, either standing or sitting around tables, telling of their own stories and memories between drunken laughter. Ella observed the décor, it was boudoir like, almost like a brothel, which was not to her surprise. Drapery of silk and velvet, small couches with similar material pillows, and courtesans serving drinks leaving nothing to the imagination in regards to their clothing, or lack of thereof. The air smelt of cloves and perfumes, wafts of cheap beer and wines filled the air briefly as the barkeep opened another wooden case, wrinkling his nose up slightly as he scooped a tankard in. A group of bards strummed their lutes and crooned songs Ella had never heard, but their tune warmed her, northern songs were beautiful, though seemed to always sing of heartbreak. She made her way to the serving bar and asked for the inn keep, who she presumed was the man serving the drinks. The barkeep shook his head, cheeks and red muttonchops jiggling slightly and motioned his head to the stage, where a extravagantly dressed man appeared, giving thanks and graces to the clapping audience on their visit to The Chameleon. His doublet was embroidered pink and purple, as were his trousers, tucked into black very well polished boots. His hat was a dark shade of purple with a feather sticking out of it...yes, he was like a peacock.
"Thank you good people! Now tonight, as well as our very good friends on here, we have the lovely Callonetta performing the final songs! I hope you are all enjoying your drinks and stay in The Chameleon, don't forget to tell your friends!" the Bard proclaimed, hand on one hip and another in the air. Ella rolled her eyes, he seemed a bit of what the Northerners called 'a prick'. He had a very gentle voice, it didn't sound manly at all, very sing song, suited to a bard she supposed. His pencil mustache and tiny goatee an attempt at hiding his ageing face. Granted the man was not at all ugly, something about him just seemed rubbed Ella the wrong way. She turned around to the barkeep once more.
"Are you able to sell rooms?"
"I am, many nights you looking?"
"Just the one, tonight.
"Let me check the book here...hmm, aye there is one left, ain't the nicest in this place, not that this place is temple isle luxury mind...wait I'm sorry, forget I said that, this place is nice. 15 orens, I-" the barkeep replied, looking up quickly from the lodger after his last sentence. Ella nodded her head slowly as the barkeep got a bit more flustered
"Its fine, you can stop talking. Here is 15 orens, thank you." Ella quickly placed her last orens on the counter-top, smiling reassuringly and part astonished that a man could get so worked up.
After placing her limited belongings in her red painted room, bright enough to inflict a nosebleed upon someone, she returned downstairs to the revelry. Some of the patrons had left as it was fast approaching midnight, and the place seemed to have a calmer feel to it now. The bards on stage strummed a slow song, no singing, just the instruments, it was beautiful. Ella found a free bench and table, rather secluded from the rest, perfect for a hour or so for her to drink in peace and listen to music. As the band finished playing their final song, a waitress approached Ella.
"What'll it be love?"
"Oh, em...do you have light beer here?"
"Light beer?"
"It's light in colour, more of a yellow or orange than the dark brown you seem to like drinking here."
"I'll check for you sweetheart cos im not too sure, sounds Zerrikanian" the waitress smiled with one eyebrow raised and sauntered off toward the serving bar, Ella shook her head, should've just went with vodka. She looked to the stage to see a woman enter on, to the clapping and whistling of the audience, this must be the famed Callonetta. The woman, like the bard inn keep, wore a hat with a feather, but hers was yellow and orange in colour, along with her doublet, skirt and tights, blue shoes though. Her doublet was buttoned right up to under her chin, strange. Ella looked closely at the bard and could see scars around the collar of her doublet, which she seemed to be trying to hide. Her makeup was also heavier around her mouth were Ella could also see scars running from her mouth to chin, most of these scars were faded, but clear enough for Ella to see, noone else could probably notice. Ella looked curiously to the beautiful bard, how did she get those scars? Was barding a dangerous profession in the North, steeped in rivalry perhaps? Callonetta was beautiful though, her smile to the audience seemed to make her blue eyes shine brighter, her pupils looking like gentle waves in the bluest of seas. The bard looked quickly over to the inn keep, who gave her a nod of the head and wink, and she began tuning her lute. Ella looked impatiently to see if that waitress was returning, but she had disappeared into the sea of people now moving closer to the stage to hear the bard's song, which she now began to strum upon her lute, the beginnings of a beautiful tune.
"These scars long have yearned for your tender caress,
to bind our fortunes, damn what the stars own.
Rend my heart open, then your love profess.
A winding, weaving fate in which we both atone..."
Her voice was captivating, as was the tune flowing from the lute, which filled every corner of the tavern like a cool breeze on a summers day. Ella sitting with her back against the wall and arms folded, nearly got lost in the music for a moment, before the waitress returned to her side
"We ain't got any of that light beer, but we have some Nilfgaardian stout which is orange..y?"
"I-yes, yeah that's fine, thank you" Ella resigned to taking the...stuff, she would've drank piss out of an old sock by this point. The bard began the chorus as Ella hesitantly sipped some of the stout, which wasn't all that bad. Closing her eyes she kept the mug to her mouth, leaning against the wall. The chorus however, would allow her to do anything but listen and relax.
"You flee my dream, come the morning,
your scent, berries tart, lilac sweet.
To dream of raven locks entwisted, stormy,
of violet eyes, glistening as you weep
The wolf, I will follow into the storm,
to find you heart, its passion displaced,
by ire ever growing, hardening into stone,
amidst the cold to hold you in a heated embrace
You flee my dream, come the morning,
your scent, berries tart, lilac sweet.
To dream of raven locks entwisted, stormy,
of violet eyes, glistening as you weep
I know not if fate would have us live as one,
or if by love's blind chance we've been bound.
The wish I whispered, when it all began,
did it forge a love you might never have found?
You flee my dream, come the morning,
your scent, berries tart, lilac sweet.
To dream of raven locks entwisted, stormy,
of violet eyes, glistening as you weep
She continued to strum the lute as the room stayed silent, some women with tears in their eyes, some lovers holding each other, another possible couple were kissing and groping each other in the far corner, but Ella, she stared at the bard. As the music finished beautifully and the audience began clapping, Ella felt her hands clap together, seemingly by themselves. Her head was spinning and her mouth felt dry, she rubbed her eyes with her hands and looked again to the bard, who was nodding in thanks and adjusting her lute for the next song. Ella brought her hands to her lips in a praying motion and sat elbows on the table, staring.
Dandelion kissed Priscilla on the cheek, smiling with pride and adoration, oh he could listen to her sing that song one hundred times a night. She jested, holding her hand to her mouth briefly as she let out a smile, trying to hide those scars. He re-entered the stage and stood with his hands placed upon his hips, shoulders stretched back and a silly smile placed on his face.
"Thank you again fair folk! Our Callonetta never disappoints, does she? I hope you have enjoyed the music this night but sadly and to my disdain we must finish as the clock strikes past midnight. Not to worry however folks as the hour now strikes what I deem 'happy hour', where you can now purchase 2 drinks for the price of one and a half! It only lasts an hour however so drink them while you can, thank you and thank you for filling The Chameleon with such energy and endearment, enjoy the rest of your night my friends!" he sang, nodding to all the audience who had now perked up and rose from their seats in direction to the serving bar. Dandelion eyed one girl however, who maintained eye-contact for longer than what was necessary, before he turned away and exited the stage, returning to Priscilla.
It must have been at least 15 minutes before the girl began to approach him, as he spotted her from the corner of his eye as he sipped a small glass of Touissant rose with Priscilla, who, as he also did, looked warily to the odd girl approaching them. He turned to face the girl to get a good look at her. The girl was foreign, hard to mistake that. Her hair was long, nearly to hear waist, hanging over her left shoulder, and was a very dark brown he guessed, perhaps black though hard to distinguish. It was plaited extremely tightly at the right side above her ear, and twisted around, so it almost looked that her right side was shaved at first glance. Dandelion looked to the girls features next, enacting his renowned judgement of attractiveness on a woman's part, though he himself was not renowned for being picky on the women he wooed. The girl had an olive complexion, as though from the far south. Her skin was not the usual clay or golden brown colour one would see from the far south, like those of Zerrikania or Haakland. Across the bridge of her nose sat fair freckles, giving the girl a look of innocence and youth, but by her posture and demeanor of her approach, he guessed she was anything but sugar and innocence. Her eyes were large, beautifully large, and blue. Blue was a strange colour for someone so dark of feature, dark blue eyes stared at him as she approached, giving her an intriguing look, an unnatural look truth be told. Her nose was not small, but not large, she had a small, thin bridge but her tip pointed out a little more than what was considered attractive, but this did not detract from the beauty of the girl. Dandelion knew many a woman with noses deemed to large to be socially attractive, and yet he found them enchanting, again the girls nose was not large, just...a little familiar in a way could not figure. Her mouth was quite beautiful, it looked small in its natural resting state, but as the girl contorted her mouth into a semi smile, they stretched and her lips maintained their fullness, pink in colour, quite pouted but not in anger or annoyance. Her cheekbones were high, made more noticeable in the makeup she wore, her jawline more defined with it too. Her eyes were heavy with a gold and brown dust, highlighting the colour of her eyes into a richer, deeper blue. Her eye-liner was dark and heavy, drawn into ticks, making her eyes almost catlike, and as she concentrated her captivating eyes upon Dandelion, he was sure she might pounce and devour him, and god's, he hoped she would. The girl slightly jutted her jaw out in a greeting, Dandelion nodded his head in confusion and opened his mouth slightly to say a form of hello before the girl beat him to it.
"You are the owner of this establishment, aren't you? Its, rather nice" she purred, in a...Zerrikanian accent he finally placed. He had not met many Zerrikanians before, infact the last time he probably encountered one was those twins Geralt had become acquainted with some 15 years back, travelling with what turned out to be a dragon, crazy stuff. Geralt and Yen had reunited for the millionth time as that stage, or maybe the millionth and first time, it was hard to say.
"Why thank you! I've worked extremely hard to get to what we have now, you should have seen it before, quite the dump" he smiled to the girl, who smirked and looked to Priscilla, whose slightly agape mouth spelled hesitation and hostility towards the stranger, her with two short-swords placed at either side of her. The girl, going by her height which couldn't have been more than 5'ft or so at the most, did not seem so intimidating, yet her mannerisms and body language made it look as thought she always sat on edge, prepared for a fight or ready to begin one. The girl read Priscilla's face and gave her a friendly grin, shrugging her shoulders slightly, whether in sarcasm or a strange form of reassurance, Dandelion could not say. Priscilla's smiled hesitantly at the girl and glanced quickly to Dandelion, who internally was shouting 'Please don't offend this Zerrikanian warrior in my tavern, blood does not wash easily from velvet!'.
"I just wanted to...say how beautiful that song was you finished with. I've been in the North for a while and I haven't heard a song as beautiful as that one" the girl broke the silence, raising her eyebrows slightly in Priscilla's direction for clarification that she wasn't going to rip her throat out with her teeth and suck the blood from her neck in the usual Zerrikanian greeting style.
"Thank you...Dandelion here actually was the one who wrote it, he's written a lot of, stories and songs, perhaps you've heard them" answered Priscilla, finally breaking her silence, glancing to Dandelion again in a smile, of admiration of his work.
"Dandelion..?" the girl repeated, confused in his choice of name, a common error.
"Yes, I am Dandelion, the North's more renowned and talented bard. I will take fame and infamy were it comes. Travel to the farthest lands of these great northern realms and you will hear my tales, songs of my travels, tales of my prowess. My most famous stories have been of my travels with my dear friend, Geralt of Rivia, the white wolf, the most renowned witcher in the northern realm." Dandelion answered, a cocky smile upon his face, hand flailing as though his tale of his stories was a story in itself. The girl perked up at the end of his sentence, hesitation playing on her face, tongue sticking into the side of her cheek before she met his eyes again.
"I'm, afraid I haven't heard many stories of Geralt of Rivia, but I have heard of him. And...don't take this in any form of insult, Dandelion...but how are you, yourself being a bard, and him a witcher..dear friends?"
"My, if I haven't heard that question a million times before. It was, in all honesty by chance. I was a young student in my late teens, studying at oxenfurt academy, the home of the great arts. I of course was the star pupil at the academy and by chance happened to find myself in danger while out looking for inspiration for my next ballad. That's when Geralt showed up, assisting me in my grand escape from the hands of that horrid creature, and ever since we have been good friends, that tale itself would be a good 25 years ago,though I hate to admit it. We have been through a great deal together, he is the source of all my tales and ballads, I don't think i'll have a greater friend and inspiration than that witcher." Dandelion smiled, thinking back to old times with a nostalgic look on his face. The girl smirked, perhaps imagining the situation herself, or becoming lost in her own thoughts
"Perhaps its too late or too much to ask, but, could you perhaps tell me of some of your travels with Geralt over some wine or vodka, I would love to hear them" the girl asked. Dandelion, with no cause to deny the request agreed and ordered 3 rounds for himself, Priscilla and the girl, who introduced herself as Ella.
Dandelion couldn't control his laughter as the Zerrikanian girl snorted wine from her nostrils in fits of laughing. Priscilla herself was laughing hard and slamming her fists on the table, chugging vodka as though it was pure water, screwing her face up in disgust before returning to her mug.
"Really?! A zeugl? And the man was bollock naked?!" Ella laughed a hearty laugh, white teeth glistening in the dim light of the tavern, as other patrons were listening into the grand tales of Dandelion and the white-wolf, trying to control their own laughter.
"Would I lie? Ah, if only Geralt were here to confirm it, he tells the stories better, more detail, but a lot more boring, but that's Geralt for you!" Dandelion chuckled, throwing his hands in the air before filling up each of their cups with more Vodka. He felt himself rightly drunk by that stage, his head nodding slightly, Priscilla too sat their with a grin on her face, at points bursting into song mid sentence. Ella however seemed to be barely getting drunk, shaking her head and laughing at the revelry and actions of everyone in the inn.
"It sounds as though he has fought everything and everyone" Ella said, shaking her head in disbelief, barely able to wipe a smile off of her face,
"That is the in and out of it, name a monster and Geralt can name you where, when...why and..when he's killed it" Dandelion hiccuped.
"Wow...I wanted to ask you as well, about the songs you write about him. That song that Priscilla was singing..is there a story on that?" Ella asked, her grin growing into more of a smirk, the subject growing just a slight more serious. Dandelion nodded his head, taking a sip of vodka before answering.
"Oh. That's probably my most famous tale of all. The love of a witcher and a sorceress, no greater tale."
"A sorceress? Who was she?"
"Ah, I keep forgetting you aren't from the North! She's probably one of the most famous sorceresses from the north, I mean there's a lot, but none quite like her..." Dandelion trailed off before Priscilla cut in, sloshing her mug of vodka slightly.
"Yennefer of Venger..burg is her name" she slurred, before looking back to Dandelion, as if letting him be the one to tell the tale, almost as though he was the one who had permission to tell the tale. Dandelion though, stared at the wooden cracks on his table, mouth twisted up at one side. He looked again to Ella and sighed heavily.
"It would take me forever and a day to tell that tale. And it is not my tale to tell. Suffice to say love is a strange, ugly, hurtful, deadly and wonderful mix. A mix in which they both know well, 20 years they have danced to its tune and...ah, as I said, not my tale to tell, I prefer it be sung in songs" Dandelion resigned. Ella looked to the table and nodded her head, deep in thought, before returning to Dandelion's gaze.
"You spoke of Kaer Morhen, I've heard of that place from others in the North. A fortress where they train witchers correct?
"Yes that's correct, I've never been myself."
"I'd imagine they don't take visitors. Is it far out of the way?"
"Perhaps... I'm trying to remember what Geralt had said. Hmm, by horseback it's probably about 2-3 weeks from here, far into the cold mountain passings in the north.." Dandelion replied, narrowing his eyes at Ella, becoming more aware of what she was asking.
"Are you planning on going there?"
"Perhaps"
"Why?"
"That's none of your concern, maybe I want to be a witcher, or maybe I want to do some sightseeing."
"All right, all right no need for the sarcasm. Do what you wish, but I think there's something going on up there, I heard talk from some mages passing through, could be just rumours though"
"What were they saying?"
"Something about a convene, although they weren't just your everyday, brewing a potion for haemorrhages mages..ah I don't really know, that side of our world confuses me!"
"Ok. When was the last time you seen Geralt?"
"Must be at least 6 months now, i'll probably bump into him again at some point, fate seems to decree that we always meet in a dangerous situation"
"Ha. Well master Dandelion and Priscilla , thank you so much for the drinks and room but I think i'll retire now, its late in the hour and I think too much vodka may be troublesome for the head come the morn. Thank you again, goodnight!" Ella stated, rising from her bench with a slight bow and walking away to her room. Dandelion watched her go, hips swaying in an enticing yet aggressive manner. He turned to Priscilla to comment on their topic of conversation but saw the blonde bard sleeping head down on the wooden table. Dandelion with a chuckle and smile, threw his own head down to fall into a disquiet sleep.
Come the early morning light the girl had already left.