Witcher: Winds of Change

by IAmElvie

This story is NON-canon. Please do not read if you are a canonite. The story does cover many of the main characters plus a few new ones, it also covers the main story arc. I have not read the books yet, so it's based on what I've googled, the game and my imagination. It is for mature readers only. It will cover all 3 games and hopefully beyond.I'm not an editor.

1. Witcher Ch1 - The Foundling

Witcher

Section One

The Foundling

Kael shook his head. "Don't do this, Syntl. Neither of us are ready for this yet. You know the gateways are forbidden to us until our training is complete. Just because your father is High Elder does not mean you can do as you wish." Syntl had always been headstrong and on all other things, he could be just as headstrong. He couldn't even begin to account all the times they'd gotten each other into trouble. But this…did she not even know where to draw the line?

Syntl grinned. She knew he was worried because he cared and that warmed her heart. She was well aware the rules. She knew their training was not complete. Were it so, they'd be assigned as observers to various worlds to keep an eye on the seedlings.

Kin were the first beings born, they were born of dark matter. As the universes grew and spread, it was they that seeded those galaxies, brought life to the barren rocks. It was they that tended those gardens. Pruned or culled if needed. If the seedlings were deemed unsaveable, they would cleanse the failing galaxy to reseed it once more.

Much as the Gods, Kin were immortal. But Kin were no Gods. Gods were but distant reflections, beings that were sensitive to the power that flowed around them, able to use it, thus separating them from the mortals. But they were still seedlings to the Kin. All life was.

Syntl spread her light, golden wings, wings that matched the hair on her head, and then pulled them in, they settled on her skin, as if a large tattoo spreading down her back and legs. She slipped her fingers up to caress his face, admiring his beautiful blue eyes and light golden brown hair. They had gone from best friends to young lovers, though they had yet to take the final step…perhaps one day they'd be more. Her father could not object to the match, for Kael's mother was also on the Elder Council, their match was all but certainty. "It is only a flirty game of catch me if you can," she said softly. "I think you will enjoy the prize…if you can catch me." She winked at him as her fingers slid down his cheek and then flashed to the gateway and stepped through.

His hand reached up to grasp hers, but she was gone. "Syn!" He was torn by what he should do, but in the end, he'd never been one to follow orders. He flashed to the gateway, appearing in front of it. Purple veined electrical charges danced arched along the gateway's console. That was not good. He darted through portal, but the gateway winked out and he found himself standing on the far side of the gateway's frame. He flashed back to the console, but there were no readings. Until the gateway was repaired she would be stranded. There were no beings with space flight capabilities, not where this gateway led, so she could not make to another gateway. With a heavy heart, he raced from the chamber. He had to find her.

_BREAK ONE_

She knew something had gone wrong. Electrical currents raced over her body, setting her nerve endings on edge. She'd never been through a gateway before, but she knew this was not what was supposed to happen. She gritted her teeth trying to withstand the biting pain, but everything went black when she was forcibly propelled from the gateway. She was unaware that her body had fallen from the sky and she never felt the impact against the stony ground.

_BREAK TWO_

Davor yanked back on his reins as the sky turned teal a terrifying rip accompanied by purple lightening and high winds. "Teltin, look," he said pointing to the rip in the heavens, just as rain began to pelt them harshly.

"I wonder which of the boys fucked up?" Teltin said with a grin. The Griffin School was based in a mastery of magics. It was the only witcher school to focus on magic and the greater use of signs. "Master Ivanth will skin him."

Davor laid a hand on his horse's neck to sooth him when he stamped a foot in fear. He felt a chill go down his spine as power danced over his skin. "I don't think it's our boys," he bellowed in a tight voice, trying to be heard over the wail of the storm. He pointed to something that was plummeting from the tear in the sky. He reined his horse around and dug his heels into his horse's ribs. Wind rushed across his face, biting at it, barely able to breathe between the storm and the racing of his mount's feet.

"Wait up, you ass!" Teltin grumbled as he took off after Davor. He had a bad feeling about this. Rule of thumb, if the sky tears open and something falls from it…run the other way, not straight towards it. Nothing good would come from something falling out of the sky. It was a bad portent…if you were to believe in such things. He didn't think he had…until now. It wasn't that he was a coward, far from it…but the power he felt all around him was like nothing he'd ever felt before and that gave him pause. But he would not allow Davor to face the anomaly alone.

Davor's medallion warmed, but it didn't vibrate. Whatever was happening was not the result of magic. But why did his medallion warm? That had not happened before. It added to the wrongness of everything that was happening. He could feel his mount begin to tremble, whether it was from the hard run or from the power it had to be feeling, he wasn't sure, but he slowed their pace. He had no intension of running his mount into the ground.

He knew the general trajectory of the falling object, but not a precise location. His gaze scanned the area as he chanted softly under his breath to intensify his senses beyond their normal capabilities. There! A soft glow…had to be the object. He reined his horse to the right and hurried on. When he caught sight of the distant lump, he pulled his horse in and dismounted. No need to put his horse in danger. They were a good team, worked together as one, trusted each other. That was hard to come by and took a lot of work; he did not want to risk it. "Come on, Telly, time to hoof it."

"Thought we were hoofing it," Teltin grumbled as he dismounted. "It was probably just a rock, you know. Wouldn't be the first one I've seen fall from the sky."

Davor cocked a brow and looked at his friend while they walked. "Just how many have you seen?"

"Just one other," Teltin admitted. "Crushed old man Mikel's hut. Good thing he was taking a leak on a tree, it saved his life."

"Impressive timing," Davor said with a chuckle. When the lump took form he froze. It couldn't be. A human? That was the last thing he'd expected. No human could have survived such an impact. There would be nothing left but stew. He lowered himself down next to the human and pulled gently on a shoulder to turn them over. Breath70 rushed from his lungs in a harsh burst. A woman. Not just any woman, but the prettiest woman he'd ever laid eyes on. His gaze reluctantly left her face to slide down her body. Not in a lecherous way, but to see how badly injured she was. Her armor was light, too much so. It was obvious it was armor, but he couldn't see how it would do much good in a battle. She did not appear to have any visual injuries. He caught the slight rise and fall of her chest. Breathing. Not rattling.

"Fuck me, she's a looker," Teltin said in appreciation, despite the unease he was feeling. The power he felt appeared to be coming from the woman who had fallen from the sky. "Have you ever seen that kind of armor before? I can't even tell what it's made from." He shook his head. "How did she survive the fall?"

"I don't know," Davor admitted. None of this added up, but it was apparent she was breathing and thus alive. "We can't leave her here, it's not safe" he said as he bent low to scoop her up into his arms and began the trek back to his horse. "We'll take her to Master Ivanth, he'll want to see her." He only hoped the jostling she was about to received didn't further damage her. He murmured a soft mantra to keep her asleep. He wasn't sure what kind of pain she'd be in when she awoke, best to have her someplace more comfortable. "Forgive me, my lady, we cannot leave you here for the beasts. I beg your pardon if I cause you undue pain," he murmured. He doubted she could hear him, but he felt better speaking the words.

"No doubt. I've never felt the kind of power that's coming from her. It's nearly tangible. And yet…" Teltin glanced down at his medallion. "My medallion is silent. It's not humming or vibrating, it doesn't sense magic or monster…yet it is warm. Very warm. Makes no sense." He lifted his hand to his lips and whistled for his horse.

Davor knew his own horse would not come to another's whistle. He pressed the woman into his chest to reach his lips and sent out his own whistle. When their mounts arrived, he handed the woman to Teltin and mounted.

Teltin eagerly handed the woman up to his friend. He was uneasy about her and did not mind in the slightest that she would be in Davor's arms.

The journey back to the fortress was slow. The horses kept to an easy walk, so as not to further injure the woman. They could not know if there were internal injuries. When she started to stir in his arms, he realized his sleep spell had not worked. That was worrisome. He lowered the reins to free a hand and withdrew a potion. He pulled the stopper out with his teeth and held it to the woman's lips. He was relieved to see that she was awake enough to swallow. He put the stopper back in the tiny vial and slipped it back into a pocket before taking the reins once more. At least now she should get some healing sleep.

They crossed the bridge over the moat and entered the Gryphon keep courtyard. "Whoa," Davor said, pulling back on the reins. He drew his right leg over the top of his horse's head and slid down the side of the saddle, his feet landing softly on the ground.

Their arrival had not gone unnoticed. Boys and young men alike stopped their routines and turned to turn and look. It was obvious they felt the power as well.

Ivanth's eyes narrowed. He could feel the power coming from the woman in Davor's arms. What had they brought back to the keep? And just what would her arrival mean for the keep? Or could that power be harnessed? Used? "Back to it, lads!" he said in a tone that brooked no argument. He met the pair halfway. "Take her below."

Davor froze. "You can't mean…"

"I didn't ask your permission, nor do I need it," Ivanth reminded the young man.

"Master…"

"Now, Davor!" Ivanth growled.

What had he done? He thought only to help the woman and instead he may be the one to bring about her death. The only time anyone is brought downstairs is when it was their time to go through the Trial of the Grasses…and few survived the ordeal. To make matters worse, this was a woman…and women were never made witchers.

He gritted his teeth, told Teltin he'd catch up to him later and followed the orders he was given with a heavy heart. He'd be lying if he said the thought of running away with her hadn't occurred to him. If only he had not brought her here. He may no longer show the same range of emotion that humans did, but he did feel…he knew regret and he would feel the guilt if anything happened to her. He stilled a moment at the bottom of the stairs and looked down at a face that took his breath away. The push at his back prodded him to move forward.

"Where did you find her? What happened?" Ivanth asked as he moved around Davor and began to prepare for what was to come.

Davor laid her down on a table and explained everything woodenly. He flinched when her hands and ankles were locked into shackles. "I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me someday, my lady. I only wished to help you," he whispered softly and brought his lips down to her forehead. "I never thought this would happen," he murmured against her skin. He stood and faced his master. "Why are you doing this, Master Ivanth?"

Ivanth ignored the young man for a moment while he started the mixture's preparation. "I know you felt her power, boy." He turned to face the young man. "We don't know what she is. Why she's here. Perhaps a powerful sorceress sent her here to destroy us. Perhaps it was fate. Regardless, the only way to ensure our safety is to have her bound to us."

Davor frowned. "That is a gamble. Not everyone is affected by that. It could make a woman that meant no harm into someone who would seek vengeance. You could very well perpetuate what you say you are trying to prevent. But it is far more likely you will kill her outright."

He was aware of the possible outcomes. But to have the chance to harness such power, it was more than he was willing to give up. He had to try. He sliced open a vein and slid a tiny tube into it. He drained some of her blood into a cylinder. He would dry it and powder it later. Perhaps, it would have some use in future experimentation. He then connected the tube to the potion beaker and moved to do the same to her other arm. "It is a gamble I'm willing to take."

"She's a woman! What you are doing…"

"Is within my rights here as master, boy!"

"She should have a choice in the matter; she was not groomed to be a witcher! She's not a child! She did not go through the training. This…" he said waving his hand around the chamber, "is the culmination of all the training, not the start of it."

"I have made my decision and you will depart," Ivanth said coldly.

Davor threw his hands up in the air and stormed out of the chamber. The only way he could have stopped this from happening is if he'd attacked Ivanth. Even so, even if he could win such a battle, he'd then have to fight through every witcher and acolyte here. He had no delusions that he wouldn't survive that battle. He could do nothing to save her; such an attempt would lead to both their deaths. At least this way, she had a chance to survive, even if it was miniscule. He never should have brought her, but there was nothing he could do to change the past. What he did know was that he couldn't bear to hear her screams. He saddled his mount and left the keep at a run, as if the hounds of hell were nipping at their heels.

He ran until his horse began to lather and then slowed him into a canter. "Sorry, Spook," he said rubbing the black horse on the neck. "Some demons cannot be outrun, no matter how one can wish otherwise." When the sweat cooled he slowed him further, going from a trot to eventually a walk. When they passed a tavern he pulled up and turned around. A drink sounded most inviting.

He could hear the laughter and smell the unwashed bodies when he stepped into the establishment. Certainly a downfall to having a keener sense of smell. He sat down at a table and ordered a drink from the barmaid. When another woman approached him he waved her away. Like the woman he unintentionally betrayed, he would have no pleasure this night. It wasn't due to some kind of twisted guilt; he just wasn't in the mood. At least that is what he told himself.

He only ever let himself have two drinks unless he was at the keep. He did not care to dull his senses when he was out. With a sigh he rose from the table, dropped coin next to his empty tankard and left. He found a nice, grassy knoll and made camp. Perhaps he shouldn't have left. It was his fault alone that she was being tortured. He should have stayed and tried to comfort her through it. With a sigh, he kicked dirt over the fire, packed up and started the long journey back. Twice he had failed her. Once in the bringing and once in the fleeing. He would not fail her again.

By the time he made it back to Griffin Keep Ivanth had just started preparation for the second trial. The Trial of Dreams. Her eyes, bone marrow and hormones would be affected. "She has survived thus far." He could see the weariness in the older man's face. It was apparent he'd been up all night with her.

"She has," he said with a smile. "I've never seen anyone take to it like she did. Her body did little more than tremble all night. What is she, I wonder?"

Relief flooded through him. She was no doubt in pain, but not to the extent that is normally gone through. At least he hoped that was the case. He rubbed his forehead. "You did take into account that the formula for Trial of Dreams was based on male physiology?"

Ivanth's gaze narrowed. "Of course I did. Why do you think I've been up all night? I've been researching how it can be altered for female physiology. I have friends in high places," he said smugly.

"He does," Philippa Eilhart said stepping from the shadows. "I must admit I was rather intrigued when he told me of the woman."

Davor had to admit he was stunned to find the sorceress here. "Intrigued or concerned about the power she wields and what that will mean for you?"

"Davor!" Ivanth cut in.

Philippa held up her hand. "We don't know what if any power she can wield, now do we, witcher? We just know power surrounds her. As to why I would help, I have my reasons and I do not intend to share them with you." She drew her hand down the woman's arm. "She is a fascinating creature. She looks human, though I doubt she is. Her irises are far larger than human and look," she said spreading the woman's lips, displaying the relatively longer and sharper canine teeth. "That is definitely not human, but nor is she a vampire and silver has no effect on her whatsoever. Facinating." Philippa frowned. "She should have come to us; she'd have made a phenomenal sorceress."

"Would she? If she has as much power as we think, she could easily have risen to rule the lodge."

Philippa's eyes narrowed on the young man. "True, but it would have made us stronger as a whole."

"If you could control her. Those that wield the most power rarely consent to being a puppet," Davor pointed out.

Philippa bared her teeth. "A worthless point to debate as it will never happen now." She dismissed him and turned to help Ivanth hook up the second mutation cocktail.

"Why have you returned?" Ivanth asked.

"To lend her my support. It is I that brought her here; I should not have left her as I did. I will not fail her again."

"Touching," Philippa said snidely. "A witcher with a heart."

He forced himself not to react to the sorceress' barbs. He hated the woman, but now was not the time to indulge his need to bite back. "I'm surprised you didn't remove her armor."

"We tried," Ivanth admitted, "but we couldn't figure out how. It, oddly, appears to have no point of entry. I would say magic, but we know that is not the case."

"She's been asleep all this time?" Davor asked curiously as he took her hand.

"Quite so. In fact, we've been unable to wake her. We have considered that she may be in some sort of healing trance or maybe she took some sort of long lasting potion. Her body, no doubt suffered greatly from the fall. But with our inability to remove her armor, we have been unable to ascertain the damage."

Davor also knew that magic appeared to have little to no effect on her and that was something he'd chosen to keep to himself. He felt a slight, brief grip on his hand and knew the woman was awake. How she managed to keep it hidden he didn't know. Nor did he know for how long she'd been awake or just how much she'd heard. Perhaps she felt she was surrounded by enemies and felt the best protocol was to remain inert and learn as much as she could. Smart. Cunning. But why had she chosen to let him know? He returned the pressure to let her know he understood. If, when all was said and done, she chose to attack Ivanth, he would back her up, regardless what it cost him. This..what they were doing..it never should have happened.

He gently ran his fingers along her forehead, sweeping the golden hair from her face. "If she survives the mutation, what do you intend for her?" They might as well learn as much as possible.

"She will begin her training, of course. She has much to learn, potions, mutagens, swords, magic...if she does not already have it. She will be trained as any young witcher would. If she is everything I think she is, she will do much for the Griffin name."

"You aim to make Griffin the top school then. She would need to be twice as good as the men in order to garner the same respect," he said thoughtfully.

"I've little doubt that it will not be a problem for her. She is bound for greatness and I intend to be a part of that. Or the school does," he amended quickly.

Davor released a breath. Typical. "Have you even considered she may not look kindly upon this gift? That she may object to being made infertile…given no choice?"

"None of you have been given a choice, what makes her any different? She.."

"She is no child, as I said earlier; she wasn't groomed for the position. She didn't grow up knowing it would happen."

"Yes...yes…you've already made your position clear, as have I," he said coldly. "If the woman does not see reason or does not prove amenable, then Philippa will handle matters."

"So you intend to use magic to control her mind? Do you think that will end well?" Davor asked, trying to keep the horror from his voice. How had he never seen this side of Ivanth? The man was a hard taskmaster, but he'd never thought he could be so cruel and heartless. He felt the slight brush of her thumb against his palm.

Ivanth shrugged. "If it doesn't she will die. Regardless, we have learned much by what has been done. Perhaps now there is a future in the order for women. We'd be the first school to successfully mutate them."

"Even were that so, we both know few would survive the mutation, culling women like that could endanger the population," Davor pointed out.

Ivanth growled. "Then we will purchase children from beggars. Even were their lives to be brief, they would not suffer the hardships of the street. They would have full bellies and clothing."

"Full bellies and clothing are all good and well until they die a horrendous and painful death." He could see the sweat forming on her brow and wiped it away before the sting of it could reach her eyes. How she was holding up so well he couldn't guess. Normally there was intense cramping, fire in your veins and plenty of vomiting. Outside of the occasional tremor and now the sweat, you'd think she was peacefully sleeping.

"Now, I've heard enough! Either stay your tongue or depart the chamber," Ivanth said in a steely voice.

"Yes, do depart," Philippa encouraged with a sneer.

"Not likely," Davor growled back.

Syntl took in everything she'd heard. She wasn't sure where she was, but it was an alien world to anything she knew. This was a world of barbarians. They still fought with weapons? Swords? She'd learned some from her studies, but reading about a thing and experiencing it were two different things. She'd been awake for some time, but she was weakened from the fall. Her unconscious mind must have used all her power to land safely; she needed to recuperate before she could take on those that captured her. She wasn't sure what they'd given her, but she knew her body could withstand about anything, heal from just about anything and her fast metabolism was helping her burn through whatever they were giving her. But she could still feel some of the effects. Immortal or not, she was not immune to pain.

The man next to her was different than the others. He'd shown he had heart, compassion. She knew he'd run because he was overcome by guilt. The fact that he'd returned showed his strength and honor. She also realized he'd risked a lot fishing for answers for her benefit. She would never forget his kindness. Perhaps, she would have a friend here. Damn it all, she should have listened to Kael. Would he even be able to find her? Right now she could not bear to think on it. Whether he did or not, surviving this strange land was the first thing she had to do. For that, she would need friends. She placed two fingers against his palm and moved them in a galloping motion.

Davor blinked when he felt the motion against his palm. Run. She intended to run. That she trusted him enough to tell him that warmed his heart. Up until now, he'd never considered leaving Griffin Keep permanently, but if he did this, he would be considered a traitor and would not be welcomed back. No matter. After what he'd learned of Master Ivanth, he could not bear to remain.

He waited until they'd unhooked her and blasted them back with an aard. For good or ill, his time here was over.

She sat up swiftly and raised a hand, freezing the other pair in place. "I need you to destroy the contents of the vials while I retrieve the memory of its making."

Her words were soft and lilting, but he could not understand anything she said. "I'm sorry; I do not understand anything you said."

Of course. She motioned to the vials and then to the fireplace. When she saw his nod she turned to the pair she had frozen. She slipped into Ivanth's mind and withdrew the memory of the formula and of Davor's attack. To him it would be as if the pair just disappeared. She did the same to the woman. No doubt the woman had the recipe elsewhere, but there was little she could do about that right now. The memory of the formula had become her own. She never thought she'd have call to use it, but better to know a thing and not need it than to need it and not know it. She blinked her eyes, they felt strange. No matter, she would heal. She did not yet have the strength to fly them out of here so they needed to rely on conventional travel.

"We need to get to the stable. But you…you can't be seen looking the way you do. I need to find you some Griffin armor. I'll be right back."

She grabbed his arm and shook her head. She looked at his armor and transfigured hers to match. She smiled when he just blinked. She spun him around to take a good look at his backside…the armor, of course. Then she added a deep cowl so that her face hid within its depths.

He was stunned. She had performed yet more magic and his medallion remained quiet. Magic that was not magic. Though, as Telly said, his medallion was warm, but it felt no threat. "Nice job, my lady. First to the armory to get you a pair of swords and then to the stable. The swords were made for a man, but you must look the part of a witcher and no witcher would ride off without his swords. Come on." He led her up from the chamber through the courtyard and into the keep. It was pure luck that no one stopped to talk. Or, perhaps just Ivanth's tight rein. As no one was in the armory he helped her buckled the scabbards onto her back and slid the long blades in. They would definitely need to find a knowledgeable blacksmith to make her a pair of swords that fit her leaner musculature. Until then, they'd little choice.

He led her to the stable. Someone had been nice enough to stable Spook, but left his rigging on. Good enough, saved them some time. He introduced her to Spook.

She stroked the black animal's dark face. "Whenever he whistles you shall arrive. No distance too great. No time to blink."

He wished he understood her words. But that would come with time; right now they had to leave. "Do you know how to ride a horse?" he asked quietly. The shake of her head told him all he needed to know. He moved to the third from last stall. "This mare is older, but she is dependable and forgiving," he said pointing to the chestnut with two white stockings and a thin blaze.

She heard his words, but her attention was caught by another splendid beast. A dark gold, dapple palomino with a thick white tail and mane. "Titan," she whispered. She felt the tug on her arm when she moved towards the young stallion.

"My lady, that is beautiful animal, but it was freshly culled from the herd. He is neither tame nor broke to saddle. He has also not been gelded yet." He could do nothing about the heat in his cheeks. "I beg you to consider Rosy."

She patted his hand and held hers up to him. "Stay." She approached the young stallion singing softly to him. His ears flicked back and forth but his body remained still.

Davor's heart felt like a block of ice in his chest. He'd already seen the beast injure two witchers during his capture. He wanted to stop her, but he knew that any movement towards the animal by him would likely cause the woman to be injured and he'd already hurt her enough. Despite his fear for her, he felt himself relax under the soft lilting melody of her song. It was apparent the horse was not immune to her either.

She opened the stall door and shut it behind her, never breaking the song. When the animal lowered its head, she stroked the wide blaze on his face. It was so wide that it encompassed both eyes and extended all the way down to cover his muzzle. He had startling blue eyes. He had four white stocking that went slightly higher than halfway up his legs. "You and I are one, my beautiful, sweet Titan. Partners. Equals. A bond bound by trust, faith and love. Whenever I whistle, you will arrive. No distance too great. No time to blink. Please allow Davor to saddle you so that we may leave." She felt the soft wriggle of his muzzle against her cheek. She drew her arms around his large neck. "Please forgive the mistakes I make. I have never ridden before." She paused. "That is true, we shall learn together then." She turned to face Davor. "You can saddle him now. He is ready."

Davor had seen it all now. An untamed beast felled by a beautiful woman's touch, so much so that he'd actually kissed her cheek. No doubt this woman would open his eyes to many more wonders. He flushed as his mind went in a direction he'd not intended. He cleared his throat and did as she bid, finding the smallest and most comfortable saddle they had. He showed her how to settle the pad and saddle on his back and how to buckle the chest guard and cinch. He buckled on the saddle bags. He explained how some horses puff up their bellies so the cinch cannot be tightened enough and that could cause saddle slippage, dangerous to both man and beast. But he suspected this particular animal would not do that with her.

He could see the stallion's muscles rolling under his skin. He'd never been saddled before; that he was allowing it spoke volumes. He picked up the bridle and looked from the horse to the lady. He explained how horses had a gap between their front teeth and back teeth and that if you placed your fingers on the gap and applied a bit of pressure they would open their mouths for the bit.

She smiled. "Or you could just ask them. Titan, would you please open your mouth?"

Before he could place his fingers, the stallion's mouth opened. At first he thought he thought he would get bitten, but then he realized the stallion was waiting. What he'd heard earlier… he wasn't wrong. She was talking to the horses. But how is they could understand her and he could not? He slipped the bit in and the stallion immediately began playing with it. He'd never before considered how it must feel to a horse, but he would never lose sight of it again. He showed her how to buckle on the bridle and then pulled the looping rein into place so that it rested on the saddle.

"This is how you mount." He placed his left foot in the stirrup, which was quite a reach even for him, and pulled himself up. The snort and shake of the horse's head followed by a stamp of his hind foot reminded him just whom he was dealing with. He lowered himself to the ground. "I do believe he prefers the lady to mount him. Do as I did and then swing your right leg over his back and settle in the seat. For now, just grab the reins near his mouth and lead him from the stall. Then we will mount."

He returned to Spook and led him from the stall. "Do you need a hand up?" he asked. She was tiny compared to the stallion. He watched as she lifted her leg high. Impressively high, but mounting from that angle would be extremely awkward. He heard her murmur something and then the stallion put one hoof forward and lowered himself down to one knee. She mounted easily. And when she was fully seated he rose. That happened. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. He mounted Spook and nudged his ribs. "We should leave quickly. I will ride on the outside; hopefully no one will realize which steed you are mounted upon. To turn your horse in the direction you want either pull on the rein corresponding to that direction or if you are reining with a single hand move your hand in that direction and it will apply pressure to the horse's neck. Since he has not been trained, it is probably best that you physically turn his head with the former method. Come on…let's go before we are given too much notice."

They took off down the lane. Their luck continued to pay off, not running into anyone coming back as they rode across the bridge. There was only one place he could think to go. She was a witcher now and while he could train her, she really needed to be trained under a master and he needed a new home. He would seek out an old friend, a brother…though not by blood. The journey would be long, but it would give him time to learn how to communicate with her and he would be able to start her training.

They traveled further than expected, the weather held and their mounts seemed tireless. But he knew she had to be aching in unmentionable places and both they and their mounts needed a rest. He pulled up at the next inn and paid for the largest stall. He piled their tack in the corner and put both horses were led into the stall. Theft was something you always had to think on. He usually slept on the trail, he was a light sleeper and few dared to bother a witcher. But after everything she'd been through, he wanted her to have a comfortable night's sleep. Not something they would likely get much of. He warned the stable hand that Titan was not tame and anyone approaching him would risk their life. In this way, Titan was the best guard for their tack and against horse thievery.

When they entered the inn he told her he'd order them dinner and grab a couple of rooms. He watched her head shake and she lifted up one finger. He knew she was right, they needed to conserve funds, but he hadn't wanted to offend her by suggesting such. He supposed he could sleep in the barn. There appeared to be plenty of hay. He'd laid down on far worse. At least it would be a warm, if not comfortable bed.

While they supped he explained about the signs, what each did and hand movements required to work them. "I realize whatever magic you have probably makes their use moot, but you are a witcher now and should practice using them. No need to give away that you are more than what you are. You should be aware that some people revile or fear us. It is best if you come to ignore the insults. Don't let them bait you into doing something you will regret later.

When their meal was finished she pointed to the bowl. "Bowl." Then she pointed to him.

She was still hungry? "You want me to get you more?"

She shook her head. She pointed to the bowl. "Bowl." She put it down and picked up a fork. "Fork." Then she pointed to him. She didn't expect him to learn her language. That would be pointless, but she did need to learn his. Sure, she could understand the humans fine, but they could not understand her. And there was no way she was going to give the tongue of her people to everyone around her just to communicate. She needed to learn their language.

He grinned. "You want to learn my language." Her smile and nod was all the encouragement he needed. He picked up the bowl. "Bowl."

She repeated the word and pushed him to move on. She only needed to learn something once. She knew he could only teach her the most basic speech in this manner, the nuances and greater meanings she would have to learn over time.

When he'd finished telling her what everything around her was, he rose and offered her his arm. Had she not taken her cowl down it would have been far more awkward, but at least people knew she was a woman. He strolled with her through the inn, giving her new words, she seemed so eager he was unwilling to stop her lesson, they would sleep soon enough. He led her outside to tell her about trees, grass, torch, fire. He'd even led her to the outhouse. "Privy."

She paled and covered her nose nodding. Is that truly what it had come down to? How did people live like this?

He pulled her to a stop. He pointed to his chest. "I". Then pointed to her. "You."

She pointed to his chest and said "I".

He shook his head. Pointed to his chest and said, "I." Then pointed to her and said, "You." He took her hand and pulled out her finger so that it pointed. He used her hand to point to her chest. "I" and then used her hand to point to his chest. "You."

Now she understood. She knew what I and you were. She had to admit the man had remarkable patience.

He flushed. "I," he said pointing to himself, "have to go to the privy," he said pointing the privy with a frown.

She nodded and walked over to a cat that was just waking up from its nap, stroking it into a purr. When she finally heard the door open she rose and waved her hand in his direction with a grin.

The smell of roses surrounded him. "Well, at least better than the alternative. Wish you'd have thought to do that before I entered the privy," he said with a twitch of his nose. He grinned when she laughed, her eyes glowing silvery in the dark. He wondered if they were blue before the change or if they'd always been a silver color. Some witchers maintained a similar eye color, others did not. "Do you need to use the privy?" he asked with a flush. It was not something a man usually discussed with a woman, but she needed to hear him speak to learn. He nodded his head, "Yes," and then shook his head, "No." Then he shrugged, "Maybe."

She copied him and then shook her head. "No…I have no go to the privy."

He chuckled. "I do not need to go to the privy," he corrected with a grin.

She repeated him properly and then took his arm once more when he offered it. He showed her to the stable. He drew her up again. His face already flushed. He pointed to himself. "Male. Man." He made a flat slice down his chest. He then pointed to her. "Female. Woman." He followed that by a curvy movement of his hands. He was pretty sure his face was scarlet by now, but how else was she to learn?

She flushed too. She wouldn't normally, but his blush and awkwardness caused her to blush as well. But she understood his meaning fine. She pointed to the black horse. "Spook. Male." Then pointed to the palomino. "Titan. Male."

"Yes. Spook is a male. A gelding. Gelding," he said making scissor-like motion with his hands and pointed to his groin.

"You are gelding?" She asked confused.

"No!" he said, wishing the ground would swallow him up. "Spook. He is a gelding." He took her around to the back of the stall and moved Spook's tail. "Gelding." Then he carefully moved Titan's tail. " is a stallion."

He moved down to a further stall and found what he wanted. He moved the mare's tail to the side. "Mare. She is a mare."

She could see sex talk made him feel uncomfortable, but he was willing to face that discomfort for her. She had to wonder why the talk made him uncomfortable. She would have thought nothing of talking about body parts or anything else related to sex. Maybe it was the time. Maybe men and women didn't discuss such matters openly. She would have to try not to shock him too much once she became fluent with the language. Then again it was adorable when he flushed and stammered.

For now she would let him off the hook. She pointed to herself. "I Syn."

He darn near swallowed his tongue. "You what?" Did she really just tell him she sinned?

"I Syntl…Syn." She then pointed to him. "You?"

Wait..he'd never taught her the word sin. He dragged a hand through his dark hair. Her name. "You are Sintel. Sin." He pointed to himself. "I am Davor."

"Dayvor," she repeated.

He held his arm out. "We should get some sleep; we will be heading out early tomorrow." He showed her to the door of her room and bid her goodnight. The touch of her hand pulled him up short.

This wonderful man had done so much for her, given up so much for her and he was just going to go lay down on the hard ground somewhere? Not on her watch. "You. Stay. Sleep." She pointed to the bed and made a movement depicting size with her hands.

He pointed to the bed. "Bed. You want me to sleep in the bed with you? Are you saying the bed is big enough for two?" He eyed the bed dubiously. Not unless they slept close together.

"Yes!" she said nodding her head.

He sighed. How could down an invitation to a beautiful woman's bed? Even if it meant he had to keep his hands to himself. He nodded. "Thank you," he said and gave her a small bow.

"Yes!" she said with a grin.

He smiled back. "You're welcome," he said correcting her. He closed the door and lifted a slat of wood and settled it in the cradle to lock the door. Quaint, but it would do. He removed his armor and placed it the corner of the room, eyed Syn for a moment and removed the top of his protective undersuit. Normally when he slept at an inn he removed everything. But he had no intension of doing so without her leave. He sat down to remove his boots and socks. With a smile he rose to help her unbuckle the sword harness. He removed them and set the pair on the table. "You will get used to it in no time, Syn."

He watched as her armor melted away to some kind of form fitting garment consisting of breeches and a small shirt. The material appeared slightly shiny and had none of the ties or stays of normal clothing. A small bit of skin was displayed between the two. When her nipples tightened in the cool of the room he swallowed hard. But it did kick his brain into gear. He stacked wood in the fireplace and made sure the flue was open so that smoke did not fill the room. "This is a good time to practice the igni sign. Use it to light the wood." He understood she probably could have lit the fire with a mere thought, but that wasn't the point, she needed to think and respond as a witcher did. If she began to do so in all situations, if it became second nature, then it would help prevent people from calling her a witch or a sorceress, which they tended to fear even more.

She gestured with a hand and the wood burst into flame. "I did it!"

"You did," he said with a grin. Ivanth was correct, she was a powerful witcher. He'd been ready to aard the flames out; it took practice to be precise with the signs. First attempts usually set the whole area ablaze. "Now use aard to put the flames out. Then reignite them with igni."

She did as instructed and then clapped her hands.

He laughed at her exuberance. "Magnificent, my dear. Most first attempts are far more disastrous. You are a natural."

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Thank you for…all."

He was surprised by her show of affection, but returned the hug. How could he not? She felt good in his arms. "Everything," he corrected. "And you are quite welcome."

She took his hand, led him to a chair and sat him down. She then poured water from a pitcher and soaked what looked to be a sponge; at least she hoped it was. With a flick of her hand the scent of roses filled the air. She drew the sponge over his face, as she did so she removed the stubble that had grown throughout the course of the day. Much better.

He was stunned when she began to wash him. Even so, it was understandable, for he knew he smelled ripe after a day in his armor. But he tended to grow accustom to it when there were no streams nearby to bathe in. Though innocent, the act was also intimate and he could not prevent his body's response. He was most glad he was sitting and that his protective undergear was loose enough to not make the issue glaringly obvious.

He watched as a she held out her hand and what appeared to be a smooth, rounded stone appeared in her palm. She raised her arm and drew the stone over her armpit several times and did the same with her other arm. Then she handed the stone to him. He took it and did as she had shown him. There was a slight hum coming from the stone and it caused the flesh of his armpit to tingle a bit. "What does this do?" he asked. He realized the question required more than she was able to vocalize. When he tried to hand the stone back to her she waved her hands in negation.

"You keep. No smell," she said waving her hand in front of her nose. She thought again about giving him the tongue of her people. But speech could not be given with a thought, it was too intricate and it would amount to gibberish without the muscle memory. And the only way to give the muscle memory was via a kiss. Her tongue must meet his to transfer the memory. She had only ever kissed Kael. That wasn't the only thing holding her back. It was imperative that she learned the local language. She feared if he knew her language that his brain would automatically respond with the language it was addressed in, thus making it more difficult for her to learn his language. Soon, perhaps. Once she'd learned enough of the basics that her learning could continue by listening to those around her.

If this stone could keep him from smelling, he would in no way turn it down. "Thank you, Syn." He placed it on the table for now. He would put it in his saddle bags come morning. She was unlike anyone he'd ever met before, he never even heard of anyone like her. There were so many questions he had, but there was no way for her to answer them sufficiently with what amounted to a babe's speech. Perhaps in a few days, at the rate she was catching on, they'd be able to have a more normal conversation.

She pulled back the blankets and slid into the bed. She wondered if she would be stiff in the morning. It wasn't near as soft as what she was used to. "Davor, sleep now," she said, patting the bed next to her and then turned onto her side to give him more room.

"Of course," he said softly and slid in next to her, turning on his side away from her so that their backs touched. The fog of sleep descended quickly.

-BREAK THREE-

He awoke on his back with a warm body in his arms. Her head rested on his chest and her leg was thrown over his. Not that he minded waking up thusly. "Good morn," he said when he felt her stir.

"Good morn," she repeated and then placed a hand in front of her mouth and turned away. Her breath was horrid. That she was not used to. At home she would use a sani-light. It destroyed bacteria on contact. But it was not natural, not something she knew the composition of or could replicate. How then was she to solve the problem?

"Are you okay?" he asked with concern.

She pointed to her mouth, exhaled twice and waved her hand in front of her nose.

He grinned. "Your breath smells? I had not noticed." Likely because his was just as bad. "Give me a moment," he said as he buckled his armor back on. He strapped on his swords and left her with a brief wave. He spoke with the innkeep and ordered a breakfast platter and the supplies she needed..they needed. He returned to catch her rubbing a small cloth over her teeth. That certainly worked in a pinch, but it would not prevent tooth loss over time.

He sat the platter on the table and propped her swords up against the wall. "Two days ride and we will be at a town with an elven blacksmith. He is familiar with witcher swords and many have sworn by him. He will be able to properly rune a silver sword for you." He reached over his shoulder and pulled out his silver sword, laying the flat of the blade against his palm to display the runes that glowed lightly. "This is a silver sword. It is used by a witcher to slay monsters and magical beings."

She ran her fingertips down the runes, feeling the etchings and the strange cold that emanated from them. Her hand fell away. This was all too real. She would have to kill. It wasn't like she was untrained. She knew how to defend herself and knew she could kill with a thought, if need be, though it was not a thing she'd ever liked to do. But this, this was different. This would entail chopping off body parts, blood, gore. That she knew nothing about. But until the gateway was repaired and Kael could find her, she was stuck in this place and had to survive it; had to live as they did, lest she draw too much attention to herself.

He slid the sword back into its scabbard and withdrew the other. "This is a finely crafted steel sword. It is used to fight humans and natural creatures that attack you." He slid the sword back into place and studied her a moment. "It is obvious you are not from around here. But you must realize there are men with evil in their hearts and they will attack you for little else than to take your boots." He sighed. He hated that she was forced onto the path. No gentlewoman belonged on such a path. And it was obvious she was a lady, if not nobility. "The path a witcher walks is a hard one. I am sorry." He placed a hand over his heart. "I truly apologize that I played any part in the path being forced upon you. I consider you a friend, and if you would allow it, I hope that you would see me as such too."

She placed her hand over his and squeezed it. "Friend. My friend. No apologize to me."

He smiled sadly. "You do not need to apologize to me," he corrected softly. "But my heart cries out that I must. Please accept it as so."

"Of course, I accept, my friend," she said quietly.

He untied the pouch at his side. He held up the tooth brush. "This is a tooth brush to clean your teeth." He then pulled out a smaller, oil lined pouch with a stopper. "This is a tooth paste. You put it on the brush to help clean and freshen your mouth. Now, let us break our fast. You may brush your teeth afterwards. Go easy on the tooth paste. Inns can be far between."

She nodded and joined him at the table, popping fruits and cheeses into her mouth.

He frowned when he realized she'd not touched the meats. "You are no mere housewife that does naught but clean. You need meat, Syn. Meat keeps your muscles strong." He sighed at her grimace of distaste. "I'm assuming you do not eat meat where you come from?" At the shake of her head he sighed again. "It is but one more change you will need to make. I'm sorry, but there is no choice in the matter. Often times on the path, the only meal you get is what you can forage. That largely consists of meat, of which your body now requires." He handed her a slice of bacon. "This is bacon, a favorite meat of many people. Not the most healthy, but a good place to start." He stared intently at her until she took the bacon. Then he resumed his own meal, he had no wish to stare at her and cause her discomfort while she ate something she did not like.

She raised the meat to her nose and sniffed. It was not a bad smell as meats go, but she was still hesitant to eat it. She understood the logic behind his words. This was not her world. There was no nutra-paste or hydro-gel here. She would have to make do. Even if that meant doing something she abhorred. Doubtless, she would be doing many more things she abhorred when all was said and done.

She nibbled the meat and was surprised that it was not bad. A bit salty, but not bad. She forced herself to eat a couple of slices and then resumed the more palatable fare. She washed it down with a sweet juice and then moved to the basin to brush her teeth. There was a strong taste of mint in the paste; bits of green could also be seen. No matter, her mouth did feel invigorated and clean when she was done.

She stepped away from basin to allow him to take care of his own mouth. She materialized the armor and made a few adjustments with a smile. If she had to wear it, she had to make it hers. She picked up the swords, slipped on the harness and buckled it up.

When she turned around he could only stare. She still wore Griffin armor, but now it was form fitting, molded to her body and it appeared lighter in make, more feminine in design. "I've never seen our armor look so lovely," he said with a grin as he led her down the stairs.

Kaleb glanced up as the pair came down the stairs. The young woman was breathtaking. It did his old eyes good. "She's as perty as an angel, you're a lucky man. If'n I was 20 years younger I'd steal her away from you," he said with a wink to the young woman.

"If you were 20 years younger you'd be old enough to be her father," Davor teased with a grin. He did not correct the man's assumption, however. For to do so would make her little more than a strumpet.

Kaleb laughed heartily. "Take care of your angel. They are rare to find and rarer to keep, bless my Lydia's soul."

Syntl stepped forward and kissed the old man's leathery cheek. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

"Bless your eyes," Kaleb said kindly. "I did not know a witcher to be an angel, but then I've never seen a female witcher before. Safe travels, lass."

"Will you and your angel be staying another night?" the innkeep asked hopefully. She knew some people hated witchers on principle, but coin was coin. The pair paid well and talked respectful-like. They behaved far better than most of her customers.

"No ma'am. Angel and I must resume the path. We thank you for your hospitality," he replied with a slight bow of his head.

Oh my, he was quite the gentleman. "My doors are always open to you, witcher," the innkeep said, fanning her face.

When they reached the barn he watched contentedly as she talked softly to the stallion. She opened the door of the stall and the stallion followed her like a puppy. He handed her a brush that he'd pulled from her saddlebags. "Brush him down well before you saddle him. It will remove the dried sweat and dirt and make his skin feel better." When he was finished brushing his gelding he put his brush away and pulled out the hoof picks from their saddle bags. He took her brush and handed her the pick. "Use this to pick the debris from bottom of his hooves. It can help prevent infection and impactions." He grinned. "Normally you would put a slight pressure near his ankle to get him to raise his hoof, but I suppose you could just ask him to lift it," he teased.

With their mounts cleaned and saddled they moved out. He stopped at a message board and removed two items and they resumed their journey. They stopped briefly for a quick lunch from the leftovers he'd had wrapped up from breakfast, near a burbling brook. They refilled their water skins. Then he took a few minutes to give her some basic swordplay drills. How to hold it, how to block, how to deflect. Once she could protect herself from blows, then he would work on her offence. For the moment, defense was the most important, because her foes were larger and could hit harder. She needed to move faster and outthink brute strength.

It was no surprise she caught on quickly, he'd come to expect it from her. What he was surprised about was how lithe her movements were. She was quick on her feet and oftentimes was not there when the flat of his sword landed. She didn't disappear or use her power, her body was well honed and her reflexes sharp. Too sharp for humans or witchers, her movements all but a blur. "You've had some training," he remarked. But it was just as obvious her arms were tiring. She was slower to block, but quicker to dodge, the compensation worked, but it was glaringly evident that she needed lighter swords.

She slid the sword back into its sheath with a grin. She unbuckled the harness, laid the swords on the ground and then turned to him. She shook out her arms, gave him a come here gesture and dropped into a loose fighting stance.

He cocked a dark brow. "I will not strike a lady," he said with a twitch of his lips.

She thought over how to explain what she wanted. "You no strike. Stop strike and hold me." She sighed. That didn't sound quite right.

His brows drew together. "You do not wish me to strike you, but you want me to prevent you from striking me? To hold you down if need be?"

She smiled; her glowing, silver eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yes, Davor. Come to me."

He unbuckled his swords and set them aside. He then removed his armor and faced her in his undersuit. He watched as her armor was replaced by the outfit she'd used to sleep in. He focused solely on her..her every movement, awaiting a sign..a tell. When she did move, it was nearly too quick to be seen, but he brought an arm up in time to deflect a blow. His arm shot out to encircle her waist and he found himself flying over her shoulder and landing flat on his back. He flowed to his feet, his gaze not leaving her. He still had no clue how he'd ended up taking a dirt bath.

This time he came at her. She ducked low, her leg shot out in a sweeping motion. He jumped just in time to prevent his legs from being knocked out from under him. He reached for her arm when her body turned, she pivoted and her other leg landed square against his back and fell forward onto his hands and knees. She was good and he was at a disadvantage. He couldn't bring himself to risk hurting her and he was unfamiliar to her fighting style. Next time she was close enough, he would forget defense and just grab her. At this point it was his only hope of taking her down.

She ran towards him, jumped and aimed a two footed kick at his chest, when it connected she pushed off his chest, sent him stumbling backwards, and dropped down to her hands to flip away.

His hand had skimmed down the slick material of her pants, but she was gone before he could grip tight. Distance had become his enemy. To give her distance was to give her ammunition. He charged her.

She watched as he came at her, when his arms went up she placed one hand on his arm, the other on his shoulder, pushed off, spread her legs, wrapped them around his neck and twisted her body as she fell. She gave a slight pull with her power, because she didn't want to break his neck. He flipped over, landed solidly on his back, her thighs still squeezing his neck.

"I'll forgive your use of power, it assuredly saved my neck." He turned his head, his chin brushed against the apex of her thighs. Her scent nearly drove him over the edge of reason. "Angel…" he murmured.

She caught sight of the heat the burned in his glowing, amber eyes. Her thighs loosened and she scooted back. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. The last move was not well thought out. She hadn't meant to tease him, not in that way. Not that he wasn't appealing. He was an attractive man, he was kind, compassionate, gentle, and generous, everything a woman could want in a man, but he was also her only friend here. Her best friend here and she could not bear to risk losing someone who had come to mean so much to her. She'd be lost without him. Too, her heart was not free to give. Kael would come for her; it was only a matter of time.

He rose and helped her up. "You have no reason to be sorry. I need to…bathe. Give me a moment, then we'll be on our way." He turned towards the stream and did not look back. He pulled off his shirt, stepped out of his breeches and walked out into the cold bite of the stream. His problem took care of itself.

Her expression was troubled as she watched him walk away. She hoped she had not ruined things with him. She did not want to lose the comfortable companionship they'd found in each other. For just a moment she admired his firm ass before she cleared her throat and turned away. She packed up their supplies, rolled up the blanket and tied it to the back of Spook's saddle. She was buckling her sword harness when she heard him return. His ready smiles sent a wave of relief through her.

"I've never seen anyone fight as you do. It was impressive to watch.." His gaze turned to the horses, something was agitating them. He caught sight of the pack of wolves that slunk out of the trees. He withdrew his steel sword.

His movements drew her attention to the wolves. He would slay them for no better reason than they were there? "No!" She flashed to the middle of the pack and held up her hand. "We do not wish to hurt you. There is nothing here for you. Move on and attack no human unless they attack first. Go in peace." With a sigh of relief she watched the wolves slink back into the woods as if they had never been there. "Violence is not always required."

He slid the sword back into its scabbard. "I do not understand what you said, but hear me out. It is true you saved those wolves when you sent them away, but there is a contract out on them. They've been killing off livestock the poor need to survive. Without that livestock, they will starve. Wolves in the wild are fine, but when they stray too close to the settlements and develop a taste for easy prey and the taste for human, elf or dwarf flesh, they become a danger that must be eliminated."

She had not fully understood. She had not included anything about attacking livestock, it was a concept she was not familiar with. "They will not attack any humans unless the humans attack first." It was little consolation, but it was something.

He shook his head. "What?"

She sighed; there was really no hope for it. It was obvious there would be times they needed to communicate better than she was capable of at this point…and if those times were to involve safety measures. "I give you talk."

"Give me talk?" he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Angel, I do not know what that means." It was the most bizarre thing he'd ever heard.

She stepped forward and placed her fingertips at his temple imparting the memory of her language. Her hand slipped to the nape of his neck and she raised herself onto the tips of her toes and brushed her lips against his. She felt his arms slip around her as his mouth opened to deepen the kiss. Her tongue slid along his giving it the muscle memory it needed. It was weird, but the only way she knew how to give the full memory of her language. She'd never done it before, of course, there'd been no need. She could only hope that it worked or she will have made things even more awkward between them for no reason. She pulled back and placed the fingers of her other hand against his lips. "Do you understand me now?" she asked quietly.

There had been a buzzing in his head and then her lips blotted it out, he'd fallen into the kiss like a starving man. Wanting more…needing more, but the press of her fingers stilled him. He knew he could make her happy, if she would only let him in. He wanted to walk the path at her side...he wanted…her words filtered through. "I do," he said in wonder.

She grinned, relieved it had worked. "I know you have a lot of questions. I'll answer what I'm able to during our journey….just please…not all at once."

"So that is what you meant by 'give me talk'?"

"I wanted to learn as much of your language as I could before I gave you the tongue of my people, because your brain will respond to the language that it was addressed in, making it hard for me to learn more of your language from you. But what happened with the wolves… I realized there would be times that you needed more than…baby talk from me." She sighed. "I had not taken all of that into consideration with the wolves, because I lacked the knowledge to make an educated decision. I only thought to prevent violence if it were not needed…I regret that now. I have put others in danger and wish to correct that. Can we find them again?"

The tongue of her people. So that was why she'd kissed him. He had hoped for more. Regardless, he had no intension of stopping his wooing of her until such a time as she told him too or it was obvious her heart lie elsewhere. But even if friends were all they would ever be, he would be content with that, so long as she remained in his life. He felt closer to her than even Teltin and couldn't bear the loss. They say that witcher's don't feel, but that is not the case at all. Just because one is good at killing and can kill easily, does not mean they cannot feel. In some regards they feel more, for they have more regrets. It is true that some witchers burry their emotions because they cannot bear the weight of the guilt and regret, but others choose to maintain that shred of who they were. "Knowledge is key to making proper choices, I will make sure that I share what knowledge I have with you so it does not happen again. As to tracking the beasts, that is part of a witcher's job and we are good at it. Look down at the ground around you. This time don't just look at it with your eyes, but look at it with your senses."

She looked down at the ground. Using her senses was second hand to her. But what did surprise her was that there was a new edge to her senses. Footprints glowed a fiery red. "My senses are better than any other being's and still they have never done that!" She smiled and took off after the tracks. She weaved between the trees, the trail a fiery path leading her through the forest and to a clearing where she caught sight of a man stabbing a pitchfork at a wolf who was distracting him while the rest were going after a horse. She could hear a child screaming for her father from inside the house. This was her doing. She flashed to the horse's side, lowered her hands and signed the aard gesture with each; a powerful burst sent the wolves yipping, flying head over arse backwards…and conveniently straight into Davor's slashing sword.

The wolf that had been distracting the man was only caught by the edge of the wave and turned his attention to her, the bigger threat. She withdrew her steel sword and stepped away from both beast and man, drawing the wolf with her. "I am sorry…be free, my friend." Her blade sang out, the wolf's head and body parting ways. She closed her eyes briefly, but they snapped open and she spun around, blade arching out, another head tumbled to the ground. She bent over and sucked in a breath, trying to keep her gorge down but she straightened when she felt a comforting hand on her back.

"I'll be damned… a witcher that cannot stand the sight of blood," the man said with a warm smile.

"She is a new witcher, she will get used to it," Davor assured the man.

"That is…unfortunate." The man cleared his throat. "We don't have much coin to spare, but my wife Sarah's a good cook and can rustle you up some vittles to take with you…as meaningful as any gold when your belly's aching."

"Of course, kind sir. The food would see us well."

The man nodded and opened the door. "Sarah, love. Two sacks of vittles to go for the witchers what saved our Bessie."

"Right as rain, Sam," Sarah replied as she started gathering the food up for the witchers. "Witchers in these parts, who'd have thunk?" she murmured.

She tied the bags up and handed them to her daughter. "Scoot along now, Tamra, and see the witchers off with their vittles."

"Yes, mama." She skipped to the front door and slipped out into afternoon sun. She held her arms out proudly as she looked up at the two witchers. "Oooh…such pretty eyes. Can I be a witcher too?"

Syntl took the pouch. "Thank you, Tamra." She turned to Davor. "Tell her that her destiny lies elsewhere, to keep her chin up and her eyes open so that she doesn't miss it when it comes for her."

He nodded and squatted down, repeating the words he'd been given. With her chin up and eyes sparkling, he bid the little girl farewell. He picked up the head of the fallen pack leader and tied it to her saddle. They waved to the father as they trotted past. He was already skinning the wolves.

"Why did you tie that head to my saddle?" The whole idea of it was really creepy.

"We fulfilled a contract. Witchers get paid for solving problems normal folk cannot. But we need proof of the deed to get the coin. Since you took him down, the trophy and coin are yours," he said matter of fact. "We have one more stop and then we will head back to town to collect our coin then head off to see the blacksmith."

"Is this 'one more stop' another contract?" she asked curiously.

"It is," he said with a nod. "There's a cave that needs cleaning out. Are you up for it?" he asked quietly with concern.

"As in the other option is leaving me behind at some camp while you take it alone?" she asked with the arch of a brow.

"It is," he affirmed, watching her closely.

"Then I'm up for it," she said matter of fact.

He grabbed her rein and pulled their horses to a stop. "Look, I know that was hard on you, Angel. The first kill is never easy. We are pushed for time or I would wait with you."

"It's not that. It was the nature of the kill, not the kill itself. I've killed before, but never like that. I kill cleanly, that was…messy. But it is more than that. Those wolves were forced into to what they became. Humans encroached on their land, forcing them onto lands defended by other wolves. Those packs forced them back into their old lands and thus the conflict for survival began. It was the humans who brought this down on themselves; it was the wolves that paid the ultimate price for human greed. It's not right."

"No, it isn't," he said quietly. "Seldom is life fair and even more rare are choices that are black or white. Too often even the good choices have bad consequences. You could save a woman from a burning hut, only to arrive too late to save a group of children from being raped and killed. You didn't know the children needed saving until it was too late. All you can do is your best and hope the fates are not cruel." He released her rein and they moved out.

She frowned. She knew it was unreasonable for everyone to have a happy ending. But the romantic in her would fight on. "That was disturbing, Davor. And cynical. But I can see the wisdom of your words. Fates, however, have no sway over me. I am…outside of their bailiwick."

"I don't know if that makes you the luckiest woman I've known or the unluckiest," he said quietly.

"I wonder that too at times."

"Why do you say you are beyond the fates? Normally, it is a thing only madmen bellow about," he asked curiously.

One corner of her mouth twitched. "My people were around far longer than any gods or fates."

His gaze lingered on her profile. "Who are your people?"

She hesitated a moment and sighed. "Kin."

"Kin," he repeated. "I've never heard of them."

"No, you wouldn't. We only come to observe and then leave, leaving little behind to show for our time here."

"Why do you observe us?"

"To tend the garden." She sighed. "Please know, I am being purposely vague. I'm not sure I have the right to talk about that, so I won't."

"Fair enough. So you are here to observe us?"

She flushed. "No, though I suppose I will since I am here. But I came here by accident. The gateway malfunctioned. Until it is repaired I am stuck here."

Was his time with her really so limited? "How long do you think you will be stuck here?"

"Time is different between your realm and mine. A day in my time could be a hundred years in yours. I don't know the exact of it. It was an impulsive, childish thing I did. I hopped the gateway for fun; I didn't study what it was linked to."

"Gateway…is that like a sorceress' portal?"

She shrugged. "I don't know what a sorceress' portal is, Davor. Our Gateways take us to many different places."

He could remember her arrival as if it had just happened. "It tore open the heavens and you fell through."

She flushed. "Not my best entrance," she admitted. "Took every bit of energy I had not to end up a greasy smear on a rock."

He bit back the words of another apology. "You said the Kin were older than the gods..than the fates. How old are they?"

"The Kin were born from the dark matter that created all the galaxies…all the planets. And when they were ready, the Kin seeded those planets, brought life to them."

The concept was dizzying. It was beyond his ken of understanding. "So there are other planets, near and far…other peoples on them?"

"Yes. There are an untold number of galaxies, most have several systems, each system the home of a star and its planets."

As hard as her story was to believe, not for a moment did he doubt the truthfulness of it. "Fantasical! I cannot even imagine…."Another thought occurred to him. "How old are you?" He flushed. That was not something a gentleman asked of a lady.

"That is relative," she said with a giggle. "I'm immortal. In my time I'm a young adult. In your time I'd be at least several hundred to several thousand years old. I would be more precise, but I leapt before I looked," she said, teasing herself.

He chuckled. "Better to laugh at yourself than to let anyone else."

"Precisely," she said with a smile.

He pointed to the left. "There. See those men? That is where we must go. Are you sure you want to go in with me? I will not think less of you if you wish to remain outside the cave and protect the men from anything that flees from me."

She looked at his straight, serious expression and a light laugh escaped from her lips. "Trying to protect me gallant knight? I appreciate the gesture, but I wish to remain at your side."

Her words warmed his heart. "You will always be welcome at my side, Angel."

She tilted her head. "Why do you keep calling me angel?"

He released a breath. "I did not start it, blame the old man. But he was right; you are as beautiful as an angel in both looks and deed…."

Were all men of this age so romantic and flowery? "But…"

He released a breath and flushed. "Your name…what people think of when they hear it…it is wicked, sinful..evil…everything you are not. It would color their opinion of you; probably do as much damage as if you told them you were a sorceress or a demon. It is best were you to use a different name while you are here," he admitted.

Her jaw fell open and then slammed shut. Of all the backwards, idiotic, superstitious…she sighed. The times were not her own. No need making things harder for herself than they need to be. "But angel? I'm no angel."

"Are you not? You are golden..ethereal…You fell from the heavens …your heart and soul are pure, filled with compassion and tenderness and should there also be a righteous fury within you, well that that too is considered angelic."

Her hand covered her mouth to still the laughter. "That is fanciful rubbish."

His brows drew together. "Rubbish?" He may understand her language, but some of the words were still foreign to him.

"Tripe…" she corrected.

He looked at her intently for a moment. Perhaps she did not see in herself what others did. Though, it did not matter. She did not have to believe to make it so. "I do not believe it is…rubbish. Those with a good heart often judge themselves too harshly and thus cannot see the truth. Whether you believe the rubbish or not, others do. You saw how easily the name was given and accepted by the others. The name gives them a sense of safety and acceptance. Do not be so quick to take that from those you meet, the name will serve you well. If they trust you they are far more likely to accept you than spit on you. Trust me in this."

It didn't sit well with her. "It seems like a form of manipulation….to believe something that is not true."

His smile was warm. "As I said, you do not have to believe to make it so. If the name gives them strength and hope, is that so wrong? Especially in a world where hope can be so distant as to be unattainable. The mind is a powerful thing, Angel. If we believe nothing can ever change, than we will never strive for change. If we have hope…if we believe…then we unconsciously take the steps needed to help foster change."

"You have a way with words, Davor. You should have gone into politics," she teased.

He shuddered. She'd hit the nail on the head. He was the eldest son of a nobleman. He would have had political power had he not been given to the witchers. He had been a child given by the Law of Surprise. An unexpected child. The repayment of a debt. That was how he came to be a witcher. "I am but a humble witcher, my lady."

The nobleman turned at the sound of the approaching horses. He eyed the pair carefully. They each carried dual swords upon their backs. Witchers. "Have you come because of my post?"

"We have…if the price is right," he said evenly.

"300, take it or leave it," the nobleman said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"800, take it or leave it," Davor countered, his gaze hard as steel.

The nobleman's eyes narrowed. "I will not pay that price. Be gone with you."

Davor shrugged. "Come, Angel. We are not needed here."

She turned Titan around and followed. "Why did you turn the job down? Don't we need the money?"

"We do," he said evenly. "But jobs are not always easy to come by. The man is a nobleman; you can see it in his stance, in the clothing he wears. He has money - that much is obvious. For him to seek something out in that cave then likely it is because it is extremely valuable. He loses nothing paying what I ask and stands to gain a great deal. Five..four…three…"

"Wait!" the nobleman cried out. "I shall agree to your terms. Make the cave safe and you will receive the price you ask." He could not afford wasting more lives, but nor could he leave until he'd retrieved what was in the cave. It was a stipulation of his marriage contract. His heart froze when they didn't stop. "Witchers! 1000! You must help!"

Davor reined his horse around and returned from the nobleman. "I do not like my time wasted," he said coldly.

"I can see that." The nobleman cleared his throat to regain his composure. "Just clear out the cave and you will get your just reward."

He dismounted. "Come, Angel, let us get this done." At the mouth of the cave he withdrew a potion from his pouch and downed it. He held one out to her.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"Cat's eye potion, it will help you see in total darkness."

She smiled. "I have no need of it. I will see fine…but thank you."

He was silent for a moment and then nodded, stepping into the cave. "Notice, the cave is unnaturally dark. No light filters through the cave entrance." Her silvery eyes glowed nearly white in the dark. Intriguing. "Notice the bodies, both ancient and fresh. The entity within has been at this for countless ages. Do you smell that?"

"Yes," she said wrinkling her nose. "It is horrible." She waved her hand the scent of roses permeated the air, but the rot beneath was not completely hidden.

"Thank you, at least it takes the edge off." They moved deeper into the cave and shivered. "Unnaturally cold. Use your senses, you can see the blood and claw marks. This cave is a bloodbath. I doubt any that have entered have ever survived. Perhaps it's a twisted spirit, one who died here under great duress…but that doesn't feel right….doesn't smell right…maybe a demon."

"A demon…those exist?" she asked in surprise.

"They are rare, or at least rarely found…but they do exist and they feed off the living….physically, mentally...until there is nothing left."

"We don't have any such thing where I come from.." she said softly.

"If they were created from man's hubris, then I doubt you would have come across one."

"By man, you mean human?"

"I mean the sentient beings of this realm. Humans, elves, dwarves…look…the path we follow ends at the pool of water. My guess is we will find the entrance to his lair beneath the water. Can you swim?"

"Yes, but why has it not come for us as it did the others?"

That too had been a concern of his. "Maybe it is exhausted, or maybe it senses something different about us and is hiding…or maybe it knows we have to get closer..the closer we are the stronger its power is. Regardless, we cannot let it survive."

There was no doubt in her mind. The evil must end. "Agreed." She dove into the pool. It was far deeper than it appeared. She chose to hold her breath. Kin could adapt and breathe any atmosphere, including water, but the idea of swallowing a demon's fetid pool water had no appeal to her. She pulled up long enough to make sure he was following and dove deeper when she caught sight of a crevice. Once through to the other side she followed the top of the cave until it opened up. She rose to the surface and sucked in a deep breath and choked. The air here was foul and it was cold enough to see her breath. She swam to the edge and pulled herself up.

Davor wished he could have been in the lead. Despite her power, he was the experienced one. He rose from the water, trying not to throw up from the stench in the air. That is when he saw her. Angel beckoning to him…slowly removing her clothing, desire hot in her eyes. Desire replaced by fear as a huge, slavering beast with long talons approached her. He pulled his sword as wicked claws raked through her body, blood spilling from the mortal wounds, the raw agony in her eyes… her screams more than he could bear. "It is something akin to a nightmare demon…taking what you love most in the world and twisting it." He looked to the woman beside him and saw only the slavering beast, blood dripping from claw and maw. "It showed me someone I care deeply for getting torn to shreds by a beast and when I look at you all I see is the beast that took that life. It wants me to kill you. But I know it for what it is and it has no power over me." He fought to relax the grip he had on his sword.

"But I see the horror in your face, the pain in your eyes…the strain in your voice…you felt everything it showed you."

"I did.." he said through a tight throat. "What do you see?"

"Nothing," she said quietly.

"It takes what it needs from the mind or maybe the soul, I'm not sure. Perhaps it cannot understand what it sees in you. What you are…what you've seen makes no sense to it. For that I am glad. I do not want you to see…"

"Wait…I see shadows…it's trying to put something together…men, women, children…impaled on spikes…being burnt alive…it's changing…men on horses…cold…death follows…chasing…forever chasing…a girl…she disappears…death follows…rivers of blood…it's changing…a man.." she sucked in her breath harshly as her heart clenched painfully. "hair in a ponytail…a…a witcher…" her words came to a stop as she watched herself walk into his arms, but she was torn from them, she could hear the flap of wings that carried her away…could hear the agony of his cry as he dropped down to his knees..then it ended. "I think he lost something he cared a great deal for." She knew it was not actually her; the demon must have imposed her there, because the man was no one she knew. "None of it makes any sense. It was nothing I feared or loved…it was like it was showing me the past or the future...but not my past. Can a demon show the future?"

"Possibly, if it were strong enough. Perhaps it.."

"Stop guessing my intensions!" said a deep, rumbling voice. "Who are you? What are you? Why have you entered my lair?"

"We are witchers, here for your death," Davor stated coldly.

"You are nothing!" the demon said as it stepped forward.

"Geralt!" Davor said in shock.

"You sought to find me, now you have," he said with a laugh. He turned his attention to the woman. "What are you?"

Her eyes narrowed. She had no intension of letting the demon know anything about her. "A nightmare you will never awake from."

"That is very unkind of you," he said in a husky, desire filled voice. "You would kill the man you love?"

She grinned coldly. "I don't even know you." She brought her hand to his temple and sent her own vision. One of laughter, love, rainbows and children skipping hand in hand through the flowers, with a burst of power she sealed away his other memories.

The demon stumbled backwards clutching its head in its hands. It became a small child, tears streaming down its cheeks. "Why do you wish to hurt me so? Please make it stop. I'll do anything you ask…give you anything you seek."

She smiled. "I knew we could work something out."

The little boy grinned. This he was used to. "What do you seek?"

She nodded to Davor. "Your death."

The little boy's mouth dropped open a moment before his head tumbled to the ground.

Davor pulled a folded skin from his pouch and tied the head up with it. He could not bring himself to touch the malignant monstrosity. He signed igni and the body burst into flames. "We are done here," he said hoarsely. "Why did the demon say you loved Geralt?"

"That confused me too. I've never met the man. You and Ivanth are the only witchers I've met. You were with me, he could hardly use you and if he saw my memories, he'd know I had no love for Ivanth. But I can't say why he'd choose someone I'd never met. He used him in my vision too; he was the witcher I saw."

Davor frowned. "Maybe your vision was for my benefit."

"What do you mean?"

"Geralt is my friend. He is a member of the Wolf school. It is where I'm taking us. They are the most likely to take us in. But you need to be careful around Geralt. He is a….rake."

She frowned. "A garden tool?"

Davor flushed. "He…er…goes through women quickly."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Ew…he's a man-whore. But why would that cause you concern?"

"Because I fear he will take one look at your beauty and will want to add you as another notch on his belt," he said honestly.

She placed a hand on his cheek. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm not so weak as to fall for just any man's charms. I will give myself to love..to my husband and nothing less."

"You're a…" Davor flushed scarlet and a hand flew to his mouth to cut off his words.

"A virgin? Yes. Is that so hard to come by here?" she asked curiously.

He cleared his throat. "Yes. Actually it is. The poor often have to sell their children off or they are abused by bandits or noblemen alike…and the nobles? They are quite free with themselves, though some still proclaim a purity long since gone."

"Well then, I shall be on my guard. I have no intension of becoming a virgin sacrifice," she teased.

"I would never let that happen to you," he said, his voice dead serious with an underlying steel.

"I am lucky to have you in my life," she lowered her hand and moved towards the pool.

No, it was he who was the lucky one. But he did not miss the fact that the conversation had been neatly steered away from Geralt. "Just be careful around him."

"I will," she said softly. The man was really no concern of hers. He could never take what she was unwilling to give.

"I have no desire to go through that pool again, especially with a gory, bleeding head, do you?" she asked sliding him a look.

"Well, no…but I don't know of any other way to get back." It was senseless to wish for something that…

She held out her hand to him. "Take my hand. I will take us there." When his hand was in hers she flashed them near the mouth of the cave. "You realize he intends to kill us?"

He frowned and held up his hand. "Give me a moment. What was that?"

Her lips twitched and she ran a hand through her golden hair. "Sorry, it comes natural to me, so I don't think about it. It's called flashing. I can flash anywhere I want, though I will only go to places I've been before. It makes travel quick and efficient."

"Can you not just flash home then?" Not that he wanted her to leave. That was the last thing he wanted.

"No," she said, her tone somber. "It is not that simple. A gateway must be used to get home. It is the only way in or out of…my home."

As selfish as it was, he was content with her answer. "Back to them killing us….Why do you say that? I've found most people to be honorable at least when it comes to paying their debts to a witcher."

Did he really not know? "'You shall have your just rewards'…that always means death. So we have two options. We can either kill them all when the trap is sprung or I can freeze them, you can drop the head at their feet and take the money that is owed to us. I'll release them when we are far enough away." She placed a hand on his arm. "You should know…I don't feel evil in his heart…just desperation."

He sighed."You don't want to kill them."

"No," she said quietly. "I know that it is possible that future desperation could lead to another evil deed, but I also know that he may never find himself in this type of situation again. To kill someone for something they might do later doesn't feel right. Do you know him? Do you know of his deeds?"

"No," he said with a shake of his head.

"Then I say let him live. If I have cause to regret it later, then I will hunt him down," she said matter of fact.

"We will hunt him down," he corrected.

"We," she amended. "Now let us collect our just reward," she said with a smile.

Sunlight now filtered through the opening of the cave, the cave was free. This..this felt good. In truth, once he knew what it was, he'd have done it without pay. But he wasn't too sure he could have done it without Angel's help. The demon had had more sway over him than he cared to admit, though he was able to stay his sword. The first thing he noticed when he exited the cave were the men frozen in place. A few stood on each side of the cave, weapons ready.

He dropped the head at the nobleman's feet and searched his body until he found his coin purse. He took only the amount promised to him and then grinned when he found a red ribbon. He plucked a feather from the man's hat and pricked the man's palm with his knife. Since the wound did not bleed, it would make a nice inkwell. He pulled the map out the man had used to locate the cave and flipped it over. He began to write.

Angel saved your life this day. Think carefully before choosing to betray a witcher, for she will not be there to save you next time.

He tied the red ribbon around the man's throat and tucked the corner of the map under the bagged head so it would not blow away. Angel was already mounted and waiting for him. He settled himself in the saddle and they hit the road at a canter.

"What was that all about? I mean, I caught the symbolism of the red ribbon, but what did you write?"

He grinned. "With any luck, I put the fear of god in him...or at least the fear of a witcher. I just wanted him to think twice about betraying a witcher again."

"Good thinking. We make a great team. Are we heading back to the village now?" she asked.

"We do, indeed," he agreed. "And yes, we are. But I intend for us to cut through the forest. It is the quickest way back and I want us on our way posthaste. In all likelihood we will have to wait a day or two for the blacksmith to forge your swords. If there are any contracts, we can take them while we wait…if not, the time is ours. But the sooner we can leave the better. I am a relatively new witcher and your instruction is best left to a master and the tomes you will have access to at the keep will show you far more than I could ever tell you." He pointed to the edge of the forest. "Once we enter the forest, move as fast as you can, unless you care to fight off everything that seeks to prey on us."

"Of course not. We would be in their home, it would be very rude for us to kill them," she admonished.

He grinned. "I thought you would feel that way."

"You were teasing me!"

"Quite so," he said with a wink. "Are you ready?" he asked as they approached the tree line.

"Run like the wind, Titan…but don't lose sight of Spook!" She grinned when the stallion tossed his head and pranced.

"Spook may not have your stallion's reach, but he'll keep up. Now!" he said and put his heels to his gelding's ribs.

They raced through the trees, bent low over their horses' necks, avoiding branches and trunks by a breath. The creak of leather, the howling of wolves and the harsh breathing of their horses drowned out the other sounds of the forest. The sun's rays no more than a teasing glimpse between the threes.

Syntl gave the stallion his head and focused on remaining in the saddle. Her legs gripped him and her hand held a death grip on the saddle's pommel. Despite the fear of losing her seat, the wind rushing through her hair was exhilarating.

When they exited the trees, they slowed their horses to canter until they stopped blowing, before slowing them further. "What did you do to the demon?" he asked curiously.

She studied him a moment before she replied. "I gave him a taste of his own medicine. A nightmare. I gave him a memory of rainbows and flowers and giggling children and then I sealed off his other memories, so that was all he could see."

His mouth opened, clamped shut and then he laughed. "A nightmare indeed to one such as he….and a perfect distraction, I might add." His voice dropped lower. "I doubt you will ever stop surprising me, Angel."

"Probably not," she said with a grin.

"Here we are. Now we just need to locate this Jorik person," he informed her.

Questioning the townsfolk led them to the poster. He handed over the wolf's head, which would be stuffed and mounted in the man's home, and then handed her the 300 gold for the contract. They purchased food for the trail and headed out.

"Is this a witcher's life," she asked, "moving from town to town, killing along the way?"

"Pretty much. Though many of us choose to return to the keep for the winter. We tell stories, drink, relax, do upkeep, more studying, if we've a mind. A relative period of calm before the snows melt." He was quiet for a moment. "For some it is too much and they fall off the path. We never hear from them again. But the job can be rewarding, if you do not mind being underappreciated. We save lives. But folks don't like that we expect pay for our deeds. Without that pay we would starve, so we've little choice in the matter."

"Has anyone ever tried to explain it to them? It doesn't seem very difficult to understand." And why wouldn't they innately understand? Who can survive without getting paid?

"I'm sure they have. But imagine having to do it over and over again to each person they meet? At some point they'd get tired of having to explain things." He shrugged. "At some point…why bother?"

She hadn't considered that. "Point taken. Are you speaking from experience?"

"I am," he said quietly. He glanced over at her. "Can you tell me more about your home?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, that I'm not at liberty to say, at least not too many specifics and not where it's located. But I will say it's in between. It's unlike anything you could imagine. The closest comparison I can come up that you might understand is that it looks similar to everything is made from shiny black marble. There are other planets that are full of life, but I rarely visited them. Out there," she said pointing up, "there are ships that fly across the skies. We don't have a lot of them, because we seldom used them. Our gateways take us to where we need to go. We have..um…glowing bubbles that take us through the vacuum of space short distances, if needed. We can breathe all atmospheres, our bodies adjust, but even we cannot breathe where there is no atmosphere. It will not kill us, but it is uncomfortable."

She was right; it was like nothing he could imagine. "Ships in the sky….I imagine they do not look like the ships we have to cross the waters..how do you power them?"

"I don't think they do? I've never seen one of your water ships. But they are powered via dark energy." She didn't think letting him know that was wrong, they were a long way from space travel. And Kin were the only beings that could safely harness and manipulate dark energy.

A shiver raced down his spine. "Dark energy..that sounds ominous..evil."

Her laugh was light and lilting. "Not at all..or maybe it is more accurate to say not to us. Don't forget we were born of dark matter, so dark energy is akin to our own physiology."

This was all so much to wrap his head around. Things he knew nothing about. "So these bubbles you talked about, they are powered by dark energy as well?"

"Yes, though in a pinch we can power them with the energy stored within our own bodies. It's not a comfortable experience – or so I've been told. This is the first time I've ever left our…realm." Talking about home made her heart ache.

"Your people…amazing. You know, you could be like gods to us. Why is it you are not?" he asked curiously.

She was shocked. No Kin would ever stoop so low. "We do not aim to rule others. We are silent observers; we do not want nor expect tribute. We just tend the garden we have grown. The seedlings deign their own fate. We intervene only if there is no choice. I can say nothing more about that."

"Seedlings?" It was as if she was discussing a…garden.

She grinned. "I'm sorry; it's not meant as an insult, it was a descriptive term. Kin seeded the galaxies..all that grow from the seedings are considered seedlings."

Well, that wasn't very flattering. His world…other worlds..they were a garden for some super beings…he was naught more than what? A weed? "That's not very flattering, you know. To be naught more than a weed to some super being." But if she was right, if the Kin never deigned to seed the worlds, they would not exist. What was better? To exist at someone's whim or not to exist at all? Knowledge was both a blessing and a curse. But he had asked and this was the consequence. A wise man once said 'be careful what you wish for.' "Do they have anything like horses where you come from?"

"No," she said regretfully. "We don't have animals, at least nothing like what I've seen here. I will miss my boy when I go," she said patting the stallion's neck. She blinked when Titan came to a standstill and turned his head to look at her. "None of that…there are no green hills, no mares where I live. You wouldn't be happy there." He stamped a hoof and shook his head, his mane whipping about. "Titan…" His soft lips played with her leg. She sighed. "Fine, if they let me, I will bring you. But no promises. They will not see you as a sentient being, but an animal..and that may be your only way in." His ears whipped back and he flicked his tail in annoyance. "That is not an insult. If they believed you were more than just an animal, they would not allow you at all." She patted his neck to reassure him. But she doubted horses would live long enough for that to even matter. Days, weeks, decades, centuries..she had no way of knowing how long her stay here would be.

'I'll be…" he shook his head. "He loves you. A stallion choosing a woman over mares. I never thought I'd see that happen."

Her lips drew into a soft smile. "That, my friend, is unconditional love. To be with me, remain by my side and not expect anything in return for his favor. At least I know his love for me is pure. He has no ulterior motive; he just wants to be with me."

"I take it that has not always been the case?" he asked quietly.

Her smile slipped. "My mother is a high ranking Council member."

"Ahhh…much like a prince or princess here…suitors would seek the benefits of said rank. So there is no one special back there?"

Her cheeks pinkened. "Kael. His father is High Council….head of the Council. It is expected that we will wed."

"Expected…" he said slowly. "So you do not love him?"

"Of course I love him. We grew up together. We've always been there for each other; he's even taken the fall for me a time or ten."

"It almost sounds like a close friend or a brother, the way you speak of him," he said cautiously.

She shook her head. "It's not like that. We've stolen kisses and more, we just haven't…"

"Why not?" he asked curiously. Normally, that was not something he'd ever ask a lady, but their relationship had passed that point.

She felt the heat bite at her cheeks. "I was going to…I pushed him into a game of catch me if you can…when he caught me….but then the portal malfunctioned. It seems it will be awhile before he will be able to collect his reward."

Davor had to admit he was okay with that. It gave him more time to woo Angel's heart. "I can't say I'm sorry to hear that…I'm not exactly eager to see you off," he admitted.

"I understand. I'm not exactly eager to go. I mean, don't get me wrong. I miss the comforts..the people of home, but this is an adventure I'm not ready to give up. Besides, there are things I would miss here as well."

"Me?" he asked hopefully.

She laughed. "Of course, you! You are the only one I'd miss here so far."

He grinned and pulled Titan to a stop. He leaned over, cupped the back of her neck and captured her mouth. When her lips parted in a gasp, he could not resist temptation. His tongue swept into the heat of her mouth, teasing and seducing until she surrendered with a moan. He felt her fingertips sink into his hair.

Titan pranced to the side breaking the kiss. She brought her fingers to her lips. "What brought that on?" she asked curiously.

He pointed up. "It is customary to kiss under mistletoe. It is also used in potions and oils, but I much prefer the former."

She laughed, she couldn't help it. "Then I will have to be careful who I step under mistletoe with. …You are very good at kissing," she admitted.

He released her rein with a sigh. "Apparently not good enough or you would be in my lap," he teased. "It would seem more practice is in order."

She did enjoy herself, but she couldn't bear to lose what they had…and there was Kael to think about. "And if I didn't have to worry about losing what we have, I might just agree." She winked at him and urged Titan onward.

She had a point. She had become a part of his life he didn't want to lose. He didn't want to go back to a life without Angel. But would he be able to stay if she found happiness with someone besides him? Were they just friends, it wouldn't matter, so long as the man treated her right. But somewhere along the way he'd fallen in love with her. He wasn't sure if he could withstand the pain of seeing her with another. Until such a time, he would continue to woo her; it was too late for him to do anything less. He put his heels to his gelding's ribs and caught up with her.

"He doesn't like that, you know," she said quietly. "He'd prefer you to squeeze with your knees than kick him in the ribs."

It took him a moment to realize she was referring to Spook. He rubbed the gelding's neck. "Sorry boy, I'll try to keep that in mind."

-BREAK FOUR-

They rode into the night and made camp. They unsaddled the horsed and brushed them down. While he found stones for the pit and made a fire she laid out the food they'd been given earlier. She removed her swords and took their skins to the stream. He was already seated at the camp fire when she returned. She noticed he'd already spread their blankets out next to each other and their saddles at the head as some sort of backrest or pillow. She'd have never thought to do that.

He smiled at her and reached into his saddlebags to pull out a bottle and two silver goblets. "I thought it might be nice to have something other than water with our dinner." He popped the cork, filled a goblet and handed it to her and then filled his own.

As he ate he watched her do the same. He cleared his throat. "This is not a question I would normally ask of a lady, but I noticed you never have need of the – er…privy, yet you eat and drink like anyone." He could feel the heat sting his cheeks.

She laughed lightly. "I imagine that does seem a bit odd. My body burns hotter than yours. It takes the energy from what I ingest, it wastes nothing. There is simply nothing left over."

"I envy you that. If I never had to visit another privy…my nose would think it'd died and gone to heaven. As it is, I'm just grateful to have my rose lady along," he said with a chuckle.

When they finished their meal, he tied up what was left over to keep the scavengers out and poured them each another glass of wine. He leaned back against his saddle, put his arm around her and pulled her up against his side. He felt her go still for a moment and then relax.

"It is breathtaking when there are no clouds to hide the beauty of the sky," she said softly.

He made a noise of agreement. "May we have many more nights like this."

After a bit her body slumped more heavily against him and it warmed his heart. He wriggled them down until his head could rest comfortably against his saddle and pulled her to him so her head could rest on his chest. He pulled a blanket up over them and then drew her palm up to his heart and covered her hand with his.

He came awake in the pre-dawn light when he felt her crawl on top of him. He'd been dreaming of making love to her and he was heavy and ready for her. His hands slid down her ass, squeezed it and rocked her against his hard length. He thrust against her, grinding himself against her sensitive flesh.

A moan slipped from her lips as she woke up. She could feel the heat of his body beneath her and the delicious friction. She froze a moment before she rolled off of him, grinding her thighs together to relieve the ache. When he turned on his side to face her she could see the heat and hunger in his glowing eyes. "I'm sorry, Davor. I do not want to risk what we have. You're my best friend and I love you, I don't ever want to lose that."

She loved him. That was something. "It is not any physical act that changes friendships. I've know many friends who were intimate and then went on to marry other without hurting their friendship. It is not the physical acts that changes things, it is the heart. And you already have mine. I'm in love with you, Angel. I'm not an ignorant boy. I know you do not quite feel the same for me. I hope to change that in time. But if not, if Kael comes for you or if you fall in love with another, I'll not stand in your way. I won't lie, it will hurt, but it will hurt regardless whether there is any intimacy between us. But it will not stop my love for you or my friendship. You will always hold a place in my heart."

"Your words touch me, but I don't want to lose my virginity…"her words trailed off and she looked away from his glowing eyes.

"Angel, my love, look at me." When her glowing silver eyes met his once more he placed her palm over his racing heart. "I give you my pledge, my vow, that I will not take your innocence until you give me leave to. There is much pleasure we can give each other, we do not need to take that step until you are ready. I will not push you for it, I promise you this. Let me love you, Angel. Let me make your body sing."

She swallowed hard. "I umm…let me think on your words. I'll be back shortly." Her mind was awhirl. She'd never thought of being with anyone other than Kael. It had always been assumed that they would wed and no Kin dared oppose that and approach her. And what did she feel for Davor? He was good looking, he was generous, he was one of the kindest souls she'd ever met. He made her laugh, made her feel cherished. She slipped naked into the pool the stream fed into and flipped onto her back, floating in its peace. She closed her eyes. She cared for him, of that there was no doubt. She even loved him. But….

Davor had watched her rise and walk towards the stream. Time seemed to drag on and he started to worry. He hurried in the direction she'd gone. He opened his senses and followed her trail along the stream's path. Then he saw her, the moonlight shining down on her body as she floated in a pool of water. He removed his undergear and slipped silently into the pool. With her legs spread the temptation was greater than he could resist.

His hands slid up her thighs and gripped her hips, his tongue slipped between her wet folds to find the hidden nub. Her body went still for a moment and then her soft cries of pleasure filled his heart with warmth. He made love to her with his lips and tongue until he felt her body stiffen briefly before she flew over the abyss with a hoarse cry. He brought her down slowly and then scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to camp. He lowered them to the blanket and settled between her legs. "Trust me; you are safe with me, Angel."

Her heart was still hammering and her head was still buzzing from the pleasure she'd just received. She didn't know it could be like that. Her body was alive, but so was guilt. She melted under the weight of his experience and her thoughts fled.

His mouth claimed hers in a hungry need as he rocked against her. When she writhed beneath him he broke the kiss to trail hot kisses with gentle scrapes of his teeth down to her breasts. He gently rolled the tight bud between his teeth before he drew it into the heat of his mouth. He felt her fingers sink into his hair as her body arched against him.

He released her breast and his mouth skimmed lower, down her ribs and over the flat of her belly. He heard her soft keen as he drew close to the part of her that ached for his touch. She knew what he could do to her and she wanted it. He nipped her thigh and drew his tongue along the inside crease of her leg. Her cry of frustration made him chuckle. He spread open the soft petals, the heart of her exposed in the flickering light of the campfire. "You are so beautiful."

He rolled the swollen bud between his thumb and forefinger as his tongue slipped in to taste her nectar. He groaned when he felt her swelling between his fingers. He slid his tongue up to the nub and sealed his mouth around it. He suckled it gently, she cried out and her hips bucked. His hands slid up to grasp her hips holding her tightly against his mouth. Her own hands held him prisoner against her. He heard her cry out his name as her body stiffened. He suckled her when she was on the edge and she shattered against him. He eased her back down and then his tongue trailed back down to lap up the sweet nectar of her climax.

When he finished he raised himself to his knees and reached for his saddle bags. He pulled out a small vial. "Give me your palm; I'm going to pour some oil on it. I'd like for you to coat me with the oil."

She'd never touched a man before. What if she did something wrong? "I've never…"

"Any touch you give me will feel good, Angel," he assured her.

"Really?"

"Really," he said thickly. He needed her touch more than he needed to breath at this moment.

She slid her finger down the length of him. She smiled when she heard his soft groan. "Hard and silky at the same time," she murmured. She held out her palm. The oil shimmered in the light of the fire. She closed her palm, coating it with oil and then slid it down his length. She stroked him until he backed away. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Not at all, if felt too good and it was not my intension to come just yet. I wanted to try something I'd heard about but never done. I hear it can bring pleasure so long as your partner relaxes. So imagine you are floating on a pool of water and you have to stay relaxed to stay afloat." He lifted her legs to rest against his chest and dipped a finger into her heat to coat it. His shaft jerked and he panted with the need to slide into her. He slowly slid his finger into her ass. She was relaxed as he'd instructed and there was no resistance. "Are you ready to try?" he asked, his voice deep and heavy with need.

"Yes," she said softly. True to his word he was finding a way to make love to her and not take her virginity.

He spread her soft cheeks and slid slowly into her. The first sign of pain and he would stop. He cried out his body trembling as he hilted himself in her heat. He leaned forward, tilting her hips further. When he saw no pain on her face he began slow and steady strokes. When she bit her lip and moaned he became concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yes…don't stop," she said softly.

Relief flooded through him. She didn't need to tell him twice. His thrusts grew hard and fast, his own cries of pleasure drowning out hers. He brought his thumb to her nub and massaged it in time with his thrusts. He gasped when her body stiffened and tightened around him. He fell over the precipice right behind her with shout as his seed burst forth. When the last of his seed was expelled, her legs fell to the side as he lowered himself to claim her lips. He pulled back to look down into her eyes. "I love you, Angel. Making love to you was more beautiful than anything I could have imagined." His mouth claimed hers once more. He felt her legs wrap around his waist as he thrust back into her.

-BREAK FIVE-

When they awoke the birds were singing and the sun was breaking the day. While she went to wash up he broke camp. As much as he wanted to follow her and make love to her in the pool, they had to move out. She needed swords that would not tire her out so quickly and her safety meant more to him than making love to her.

He smiled softly as he watched her armor materialize over her body. He grazed his lips over hers and handed her up her portion of their leftovers to eat on the trail. He mounted Spook and they moved out. A couple of hours into the ride they passed a husk of a town that had been positioned up against a river. He caught sight of the drowners and pulled Spook to a stop. "Angel, look," he said pointing to the river bank. "They are called drowners because people believe they are the rancid souls of those that drowned, that is not the case, but it is how they got their name. And they are probably why the small town fell to ruin. They tend to hunt in packs. They are fast and can dodge a sword if you are not faster. They are immune to poison, but susceptible to silver. So use your silver blade. They are also sensitive to the ingi sign. They are a good...monster to practice on."

He dismounted and pulled his silver blade. They also said that a witcher in love was at more risk. Presumably because his head was in the clouds, but right now his mind was completely focused. Probably because the woman he loved was with him and that kept him alert.

The drowners rushed them when they caught sight of them. He focused on distracting them. But he would not kill any unless there was a need. This was good practice for her. Her form was good, but the sword was telling. A few were able to dodge her until she allowed them to draw closer and used feints. Impressive improvising.

When she killed off the ones the ones surrounding her, her jaw dropped when she noticed he'd not killed any that had gone after him. "You've got to be kidding me."

He chuckled. "I told you they were good for practice and I don't need the practice. Please come dispatch these miscreants for an old, weary witcher."

She scoffed. "If you are too weary, perhaps you need a good night of rest." She laughed when the head of a drowner went sailing before her words were even finished."

He finished the last one in record time and joined her. "I find myself oddly rejuvenated."

"I bet you do," she smirked. She raised her fingers to her lips and blew. She smiled as Titan trotted into view, Spook right behind him.

"So they both come when you whistle?" he asked curiously.

"No, Spook will only respond to your whistle. But he knew we were together so came with Titan."

"That's my smart boy," he said and patted his neck before mounting. "We'll make it to the next town in maybe three hours, less if the horses wish to stretch their legs. At least by the time we arrive the blacksmith will still be open. I'll pay him extra to get them done sooner. We need to get to the keep."

"No more contracts?"

He grinned. "Right now our pockets are brimming with coin. No more contracts."

She frowned. So many needed help. "What of all the people who need our help?"

He sighed. "Angel, you have a big heart and I love that about you, but there is one thing you need to understand. People will always need help. If you try to help everyone all the time you will run yourself ragged. We will do what we can if we pass someone needing help, but for now, getting to the keep is most important. You need to complete your training and then we can hunt contracts. Is that acceptable?"

She nodded and gave Titan his head. The stallion shot into a gallop, her hair whipping in the wind. She felt secure in her seat. Maybe it was because she was getting better, more confident, or maybe it was because she wasn't having to dodge trees and branches. He eventually settled into an easy canter. "Do you think the wolves will really take us in?"

He rubbed the back of his head. "I don't think they will have a problem taking you in. You will go through training like any of their men and earn your medallion when you complete it. As far as I go? Probably, though I'm sure I will have to prove my loyalty to the keep in some way."

When he saw the town up ahead he glanced at the direction of the sun. "We've made much better time than I thought we would. Hopefully, Emereth will be at his shop."

The town was active this time of day, dogs and children alike darted in front of them. She laid a calming hand on Titan's neck. "Easy, love, we have to be here. I need you on your best behavior." When he shook his head she laughed. "I agree it stinks here. We'll leave as soon as we can."

He spotted the sign and grinned. "Stay with the horses, I'll be right back." He sent her a wink before he stepped into the smithy.

She stilled and her head jerked up. "Stay," she told Spook. She spun Titan around and followed the sounds of a horse's shrieks. It led her outside of the town's gates and to the right. As she got closer she heard the whistle of something and then a sound of it hitting flesh, followed by another shriek. She will never forget the horror of what she saw. A white mare covered in foam and blood was tied to a fence by her bridle, her left front and rear legs hobbled together, unable to move, unable to defend herself, being beaten by humans with long straps that appeared to have barbs or blades sewn into them.

She vaulted from Titan's back. "Leave now," she said, ice dripping from every word.

'Beauty come to save the beast, have ye?" he hawked and spat on the ground.

"Save her or avenge her, the choice is yours."

"What the hell'd she say?" he asked looking to his cronies.

"Does it matter, mate? She's a right prime piece, she is. What say we plough her like we ploughed the mare, eh Bimmy?"

"She leave with me," growled.

"Not gonna happen, pretty piece. See we paid good coin for her and she nearly kilt poor Bimmy here. We'll beat her 'till she's meek as a dog, we will," he said and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Insufferable, abusive pig's arse.." she grumbled as she untied her coin pouch and tossed it at the man that appeared to be the leader of the bunch. "She go with me."

The man rubbed his scraggly beard and grinned. "That's a mighty nice purse you just gave us, but it changes nothin'. And I just decided we'll plough you 'till yer bleedin' and screamin' for a mercy we don't got."

"I dunno, Mavis," Bimmy said with caution. "They says only witchers carry two swords like that."

"Lookit her titties, Bimmy. She's a gerl. You ever seen a gerl witcher? She prolly stold them," Mavis said with a nod.

"It's stole, you moronic, flea bitten, soul rotted, son of a gutter swine…" She unbuckled her swords and laid them on the ground before facing the men.

"More of that sing-songy language….oh, looky there, boys. She aims to make it easy for us. Just need to show a gerl who's boss and she'll suck your stick dry, she will. Watch ol' Mavis show yous how it's done."

Mavis stepped forward to backhand the woman. Before he knew what happened he sailed over her back, landed flat on his with his arm twisted. A shrill scream tore from his throat when his arm snapped.

Two more came at her. She jabbed the solar plexus of the man on her left, when his body fell forward she swung over his back and brought her knee up into the underside of his chin, his head snapped backwards and he landed flat on his back. She eyed the two remaining men and grinned. "You should have just taken the money." She watched as the men looked at each other, eyed the two men on the ground and then took off in the opposite direction. She saluted them and turned her attention to the white mare.

The mare's mouth was open; she was blowing hard from the pain, her body trembling. "It will be alright now, baby. You're safe." She squatted down and untied the mare's hooves. Even they were bloody from fighting the rope. A single death was too good for those men and she'd not killed anyone. She took a small knife from sheath at her waist and sliced her wrist. She dripped her blood into the long, thick gash that ran down her neck and over her shoulder. It was not a wound she wanted to take on herself when there was an easier way.

There were three ways she could heal. A quick heal for simple injuries like a small gash or fracture, which involved little more than wishing it so. The second method was the blood heal, it was used for serious wounds. She'd never used that type of healing before, but she knew of it. The properties of her blood would cause the wound to heal and knit together as her own flesh did. The third method involved skin on skin contact, the damage would be transferred to her and then her body would heal itself, that method was simplest for internal injuries you could not see or a vast amount of injuries the other two could not compensate for.

She employed all three of these methods. After using her blood on the major wound, she used a flash heal and then stepped into the horse's side. The front of her armor melted away so that her breasts were flattened against the heaving ribs. She spread her arms wide, one palm touching her shoulder the other touching her flank and transferred the injuries to herself. "Shhh, baby, you'll feel better in a moment." They were all relatively minor, so the transfer was quick.

She fell to one knee with a gasp, her armor reforming. She just needed a moment to catch her breath.

Davor had arrived just in time to see her take out the men splendidly. When she appeared to be hugging the mare's side, perhaps comforting it, he gave her a moment. But when she dropped to her knee he moved quickly to her side and helped her up. "What happened?"

"I healed her….it just took a bit out of me. She was abused rather heavily," she admitted.

"I can tell by the amount of blood. Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked with concern.

"Thank you, but no. Healing is a simple matter, but it can also be draining." She waved her hand and the mare's coat glistened, all signs of the beating gone, except for one long, thin scar that would continue to heal over the next few days. "There is one more thing I need to do for her." She moved to stand in front of the horse. The mare dropped her head and rested it against her armor.

"What more can you do that you haven't already?" He couldn't help but worry; he'd seen the toll the healing took on her.

She stroked the sides of the mare's head. "Those men molested her and I intend to destroy the memory of the abuse they gave her. Give me a moment please; it's not as easy finding, and animal's thoughts are different…I think…there…" A shudder passed over the mare's skin and she stepped back with a shake of her head. "You don't want me to remove the memory of the beating?"Another shake of the mare's head. "But why not?" The mare tossed her head and then stepped into the woman and dropped her head over her shoulder. Syntl sighed. "Does it mean that much to you to remember that?" The mare blew out her nostrils. "I understand." The mare backed up and lipped her cheek. She giggled and ran her hand down the mare's face and then rubbed gently between her eyes. She froze when a picture entered her mind. Geralt. But why? The mare nodded. "Do you know him?" A shake of the head. She didn't know him, but she was meant for him. If the mare didn't know him then the picture came from her own mind and she, in turn, had transferred the picture to the mare's mind. There was little sense questioning what the mare had already accepted.

"Can you please saddle her?" she asked as she pointed to the tack on the ground.

He lifted the pad and saddle together and settled it on the mare's back. "What was that all about?" he asked as he buckled on the chest guard and cinched up the saddle.

She rubbed the horse's neck. "She allowed me to remove one memory, but she wouldn't let me touch the memory of her beating. Because if I removed it then it would also remove the fact that I'd saved her, healed her. She didn't want to lose that memory. But maybe she's right, maybe it's better for her to be aware of the evil men are capable of. If she knows, she'd less likely to be caught off guard again." She flipped the looped rein over the top of the mare's head to rest on the saddle.

"She's a stunning mare, but what are we going to do with a third horse…or will we be picking up orphans along the way?" he teased.

She grinned as she mounted Titan. "Ha-ha. I am to take her to her new owner."

"Splendid! Where are they?" he asked beaming a smile as he turned his mount to head back to town.

She shook her head and followed him, the white mare bringing up the rear. "I don't know."

The smile slipped from his face. "Well then, that just made things a lot more complicated. Do you know who the owner is?"

She shook her head again. "I've never met him." She thought about dragging it out a bit longer, just to play with him, but in the end she couldn't keep the grin from her face.

He caught her grin and pursed his lips. "You are playing with me, are you not?"

"I am,' she admitted. "She's to go to Geralt."

"Ger – Geralt?" Laughter burst forth. "That is rich, the irony. The White Wolf atop the white steed. Can't wait to see his face when he finds that out."

Now she was concerned. "Would he refuse her?"

Davor shrugged. "I have no idea. I imagine it would depend on how attached he is to the mount he's got. We'll see when we get to the keep. As for your swords, they will be ready tomorrow. He was already starting on the steel sword when I left."

That did surprise her. "I don't know much about making swords. Okay, I know nothing about it, but that seems rather fast, especially if they have more requirements than normal swords."

"Do not worry about such things," he said. "He's one of the best; he knows what he's doing." He dismounted in front of the stable and paid for two. The stalls were a bit smaller, so he put the mare and gelding in one and she led Titan to the other. He warned the stable master to not let anyone get near the horses, for their own safety.

He purchased them a room at the inn and ordered a platter to be delivered. Once in their room he propped his swords against the wall and removed his armor with a sigh of relief. He sat down in a chair next to the table. "Can you clean me the way you cleaned the mare?"

She blinked. "Yes, but it's not a substitute for…for water." She grinned. "Which we don't have." She waved her hand in his direction. "All better."

There was a knock at the door. "You may wish to get under the blanket, Angel. Your night clothes are not…typical. He grinned when her armor reappeared. "That will suffice." He unlocked the door and opened it. A small elf maid was holding a large platter. He reached out to take it from her but she skirted around him and laid it on the table.

"Master witcher, I be off duty at moonrise, if'n yer wantin a wee bit of fun," she said as she fondled her breasts.

"Thank you for the offer, miss, but I'm not interested. As you can see, I'm not alone," he pointed out.

"More's the merrier, I say."

"No, thank you," he said firmly. "It is best you find other entertainment for the eve," he said as he ushered her to the door.

"More's the pity. You know when I get off if'n you've a change of mind." She reached for his groin and frowned when he moved away. She shrugged and headed back down the stairs.

Syntl was stunned. "I can't believe she tried to grab you like that!"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Harlots will do that too. If they can make a man…respond they are more likely to get him in bed."

"You were quick on the dodge," she teased.

While her words were odd, he understood her meaning well enough. "I did not wish for her touch. It is your touch I favor. I would not be…quick on the dodge with you."

She laughed softly and sat down at the table. "I will keep that in mind."

"Please do," he said as he joined her at the table. He cut off a hunk of meat, cut it into small bites and then scraped it onto her plate. He plopped the remainder onto his plate. He saw her frown as she looked at it. "You need to eat it, Angel."

She grumbled in disgust. "I know…just don't tell me what it is. If I knew, I would not be able to stomach it," she admitted honestly.

"You have a deal." It was going to be damned awkward on the trail, but he'd figure something.

When they finished their lunch he placed the platter outside the door. By the time he turned around she was already in bed. He bent down and kissed her cheek. "I'll be back soon. I need to purchase a few things while we're in town." He slapped his armor on, stepped over the platter and locked the door behind him.

First thing he did was hit the notice board. There was a simple retrieval notice not too far away. It would earn him 300 and that was all he really needed to have them where they should be. He'd spent a little more on her swords than he'd expected to pay. The job itself had been relatively simple. A vengeful wraith protected the house. Bodies of those that had sought to trespass were seen littered around the house. He apologized to the wraith before he cut him down. It sickened him because the poster was probably the one that killed the man the wraith once was. He scanned the house with his senses and was able to piece together the betrayal. A will he found locked in a trunk bequeathed the full inheritance to go to the younger son. Someone, presumably the younger son, was murdered in bed while he slept. The body was dragged out and buried beneath the boards of the privy. The murder weapon lay in muck next to the body.

He pocketed the will and grabbed the jeweled box he'd come for. The job had ended up being worth more than he was getting paid, but justice would taste just as sweet. He found Bradley Johsnan, handed over the box and took his coin. He then went straight to the local law. He handed over the will, explained what he saw and where the body and murder weapon could be found. He'd done what he could the rest lie in the hands of the law. He hoped justice would not be blind.

He visited a butcher and purchased a fair amount of dried meat. One way or another he would make sure she ate. He then purchased scabbards and a new harness that would fit her smaller, lighter swords. Once they reached Kaer Morhen then he would have done all he could to help try to make up for the path he'd inadvertently set her upon. If he could turn back time he would have. He could never truly pay off his debt to her; some mistakes could not be undone. He knew she did not hold him responsible, but he did.

He made a final stop at the smithy. Her steel sword was ready. He tested its weight and balance and drew his fingertips down the blade. It was beautifully crafted. As requested her name was also inscribed on the blade. However the language it was inscribed in was not known to him. When he asked Emereth about it, the elf said only that it was in ancient elven and the steel called to him. No matter, it did not change the worth of the blade. He slid the blade into its new scabbard and flung it over his shoulder.

He blinked in surprise when he stepped into their room. Nothing was as he remembered it. Except for the fireplace. The bed, the table, the chairs…all were unlike anything he'd seen before. There was even a long, soft looking thing situated in front of the fireplace. "I think I've got the wrong room," he teased as he set his purchases down and removed his armor and the top of his undergear.

She watched him a moment. No doubt the change of décor was startling. She'd based the furnishings on a few pieces she had in her room back home. She had been horrified to wake up and not be alone. "I didn't like the uninvited guests." She shuddered. "There were…bugs….everywhere," she whispered. "But they tasted the wrath of a witcher and are no more! I have vanquished our foes singlehandedly! Bow before my might!"

Davor gave an extravagant bow. "My lady, the savior of abused flesh everywhere. I am humbly in your service. I pledge my sword to thee, in any way you have wish of me to use it."

She inclined her head. "Then arise gallant knight and present thy sword to me."

He rose. "Which sword does my lady wish me to present?"

She cocked her head. "Why the most useful one, sir witcher knight."

"My lady, I humbly ask that thee forgive my naivety. For all of my swords are useful. For what setting does her highness wish displayed?"

"Why the setting is nigh, sir knight!"

She watched a grin spread slowly on his face, his golden eyes began to glow with an inner heat as his fingers deftly untied the flap on his undergear. The flap fell to reveal his thickened arousal that stood proud and ready for action. She blushed. "Oh, my…" That was considered a sword? It seemed there was much she still needed to learn.

He stepped around the padded long bench and pulled her up against him. He reached down and placed her hand against him. "Feel the strength of my sword, my lady. It is ready to be of service to you," he murmured huskily in her ear. He drew his tongue along her ear and gently nipped the lobe before cupping her face with both hands and capturing her lips with a heated kiss.

This wasn't at all what she'd intended. She had not thought beyond the single night they had together. She had no intension of becoming anyone's mistress; it was not a life she wanted. But his experienced tongue and the way his length responded to her touch caused her thoughts to disband in the heat of the moment.

By the time they'd reached their third release their bodies were slick with sweat. He held her close as their heartbeats slowed and their bodies cooled. There was a fear inside of him that their time together was coming to an end. He didn't know why he felt that, perhaps because he wanted her more than anything and he feared she would never be his, if only because she was not of this world. Regardless, he was driven to steal as many precious memories of her as he could. He knew things would change at Kaer Morhen. He couldn't exactly visit her chambers in sight of the other men. He would not tarnish her reputation in such a manner. Nor would he ever enter a lady's chambers without an invitation.

"Angel," he said quietly. "I need you to know something. It does not require an answer, I just…you should know the option is available should you ever…" he sighed. "You know I love you, I won't hide that truth. I want you to know that no matter what happens, there will always be a place for you at my side…as my wife." He brought his fingers to her lips. "Shh…I know it's not the right time for you, too much is uncertain…and you have a home you wish to return to, so I do not want you to answer until you can say, 'Davor, I want to be your wife.' I just need you to know that nothing will ever change how I feel about you. You are the only woman I want in my life and I will always be there for you, no matter what happens…no matter how long it takes; the offer will always be on the table. And do not say, 'Davor, I would never ask you to wait for me,' or , 'Davor, I want you to be happy, to find someone that could love you the way you deserve.' I don't want to hear that. Only I know what I deserve and what I'm content to live with." He removed his fingers from her mouth and grazed his lips over hers.

His beautiful words were alarming. She gazed into his glowing eyes and ran her fingertips through his long, thick, dark hair. His sculpted, chiseled features were near perfect. There was no denying his physical appeal to her and she also knew she could be happy with him, but this was not her world. She lowered her forehead to his. She didn't belong here and he would never be welcomed in her world. "You know me so well," she said softly.

"I know and yet you always manage to surprise me," he admitted.

"I'm not human," she said, the words barely more than a whisper.

"Nor am I," he reminded her.

She sighed. "You were once…I never was." She rolled out of bed, drew her hair over her shoulder to expose her back and walked towards the fireplace. She held her hands out to the flames and waited for his response.

Davor's mouth fell open. Never had he seen anything so beautiful in all his life. A tattoo of golden wings flecked with creamy white fell from her shoulders to the backs of her heals. He released a slow breath as he scooted out of bed to stand behind her. His fingers slid down her back; though he expected to feel the soft down of feathers he felt only the warmth of her skin. "They are so real looking, so breathtaking. Did you think a tattoo would change my mind?" he asked through a throat tight with emotion.

"No," she said quietly. She slowly spread her wings, the tattoo moving off her skin to become feathers.

Davor groaned as he saw the tattoo leave her body and spread into soft, supple wings. They were each at least as long as her body was tall and nearly spanned the small room. He ran his hands gently over the feathers and lowered his head to breath in their scent, to feel their softness against his cheek. The wings attached right above her lower shoulder blades to the bottom of her ribs, the muscles bunching a bit around the base of the wings. He drew his tongue along the base of the wings and felt her body shiver in response. He nipped the side of her neck and put his arms around her waist. "This changes nothing, least of all my love for you." He took a step back as she pulled in her wings. He watched as the tattoo slid onto her body.

She felt the warm press of his lips against her back. He accepted her completely. And she knew her secrets were safe with him. She trusted him completely. She turned around in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you for accepting me as I am." She put her lips against his neck and elongated her fangs. She felt him stiffen as they pierced his skin. His arms tightened around her and he groaned as his blood flowed swiftly up her teeth and into her bloodstream. She bit the tip of her tongue to allow the drops of her blood to seal the wounds. "I have created a bond between us. If you are ever in pain or need I will know and I will come for you."

Outside of the initial pinch her bite had been pleasurable, though unexpected. "I will always be in need of you."

"That's not what I meant," she said with a grin.

"I know. Does it work both ways?" he asked hoarsely.

"No, for that you'd need my blood and…" She stiffened when she felt the shock of his bite.

He didn't need to hear any more. If they were separated he wanted to know if she were in danger. He wasn't sure how he'd get to her, but he needed to know. He bit down at the base of her neck, the heat and taste of her blood surprised him. Her blood did not taste like blood at all; it had a sweetness to it that drove him to take in more. He drew hard on the wounds, grinding his teeth when the flow became too weak. He grew thick against her belly and ground himself against her with a whimper.

He felt the pressure of her hand against his head, holding him against her. Her other hand slid down the muscled of his abdomen to grasp his aching arousal. She worked him until he knew he was about to come. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He adjusted her position, spread her soft cheeks and drove into heat of her ass, her hand still holding him firmly to her neck. He ground his teeth again, fresh blood and energy poured into him. Blood sprayed when he growled out his release a moment before she tumbled over the precipice to join him. He released his hold on her neck to claim her lips. Nothing could have prepared him for that.

He withdrew from her and her feet lowered to the floor. "I know I will never be able to get to you in time if you are in need, but at least I will know when to worry."

Her fingertips caressed his cheek. "You never need to worry about me."

He let out a long breath. "I know how powerful you are, but that won't stop my worry and that didn't stop Ivanth."

"I know," she said quietly. "But I don't expect to fall out of another gateway anytime soon."

"And don't fly off into one any time soon either, I'd miss you dreadfully," he teased. That it was the biggest understatement he'd ever spoke. Even if she never wed him, he couldn't imagine his world without her in it. The world would dim with her loss. "Oh – I all but forgot the other sword I wanted to show you." He glanced down when he felt something touch him. He was now wearing what amounted to very short pants that hugged his hips and upper thighs. It was made from the same material that made up her nightclothes. "Very comfortable," he admitted.

"Or perhaps you prefer this for underwear?" she teased making the underwear so small that it barely covered his groin.

"No, no…I much prefer the other." This scrap of cloth would cover nothing if he grew hard. When his underwear reverted to normal size he took them off. "Can you make me a whole undersuit of that material?"

She thought he needed the thicker undersuit, but she should have thought to ask him about it. "Absolutely, I wish I would have thought of that sooner. The material wicks sweat away to help keep you dry. Do you want it to go to your wrists and ankles?" At his nod, she materialized the undersuit.

He ran his hands over the material. "I cannot wait to wear this under my armor. It would be nice not to drown in my own sweat for a change."

She grinned. "Don't expect miracles, it doesn't exactly air condition."

His brows drew together in confusion. "Air condition?"

She bit her lip. "Well, make the air cooler. Where I live you can set the temperature to whatever you wish. I tend to prefer it on the cooler side than the warmer side. You can always put on warmer clothes or a blanket if you grow too cold, but no matter how much you take off, hot is hot and I'm not a fan of sitting in a pool of sweat."

"Ahh..that sounds wonderful. Here we have to wait for winter, the only downside to winter is waiting for the water to be heated to take a bath and often the first bucket has grown too cool before the last bucket fills the tub. And you have to heat the water for the horses to drink…and shovel the snow...and if you sweat….ok, so midwinter is not much fun, but pre-winter and post-winter temperatures are perfect."

"I see what you mean. If I am still here come winter, it looks like bathing will become…unpleasant. Though, I refuse to do without. I suppose I can always crawl inside a large stew pot atop a fire," she teased.

He grinned. "As much as I love the taste of you, that is not what I had in mind."

"Oh, hush," she said slapping his chest, completely embarrassed. "Show me that other sword you were talking about."

He pulled the steel sword from its scabbard, turned to face her and laid the flat side of the blade against his palm.

The quality of the sword was obvious. She drew her finger down the engravings. "Syntl.." she murmured. "It looks a lot like my language. I did not expect to see it here."

Her language? That made little sense. "Emereth said he used ancient elven for the script."

The only way this could happen was if a Kin sent to observe long ago became more involved that he should have. But why would he or she do such a thing? "There are slight variations, but it is Kin. And I don't like what that implies. We are to observe, not teach or guide." She took the sword in hand. It was lighter, trimmer and a bit shorter than the swords she had been using. She stepped back and took a few practice swings. "I don't know much about swords, but it moves a lot easier."

He chuckled. "It is you that are moving a lot easier. But you are right, it has superb balance, the craftsmanship is unparalleled. It will serve you well." He took the sword back from her and slid it back into its scabbard. He looked up when there was a knock at the door and in a blink his armor was back in place. He winked at her and opened the door. The eleven maid was there with their evening platter. He stepped in front of her when she attempted to skirt around him. "I will take that, miss." He took the platter from her hands, tossed a coin to her and closed the door in her face. He heard her stomp down the stairs but didn't much care.

His undersuit was back in place before he was able to set the platter on the table. "I knew I kept you around for a reason," he teased.

She pursed her lips. "Any more comments like that and you will find yourself in the horse trough naked."

His mouth fell open in shock. "You wouldn't.." He held his hands up quickly in surrender. He had no intension of calling her bluff.

She grinned and sat down at the table next to him. "Good call."

Without thinking, he spun the platter around, pulled the chicken from the bone and scraped it onto her plate before he saw to his own meal. "What is that thing?" he asked as he pointed to the padded bench.

She popped another cube of cheese into her mouth. "A couch. It's good for sitting or sleeping. I used to sit on one of the sofas in my room to read."

With a full belly he sat back in his chair. "Sounds nice. Would have loved to have had such growing up in the keep. We spent hours going over tomes on wooden benches. I don't even want to tell you how many splinters I pulled out of my…backside."

She rose and set the tray outside the door and then locked it. "Well, if they intend for me to spend hours reading at the school, then there will be sofas. I'd rather save my backside the torment." She settled on the middle of the sofa, when he joined her she scooted down and laid her head on his thigh. She watched the flames dance and spark until her eyes grew heavy.

With one arm resting on the sofa's arm, he gently ran his fingers through her hair. He could definitely see the appeal to these couches. When her breathing became slow and even he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He settled in next to her with a sigh and pulled her up against him. He'd never laid on anything this comfortable. It felt like a cloud. He couldn't help but wonder what it was like in her world.

-BREAK SIX-

When they finished breakfast he told her he was going to check out the mare's shoes and take her for a quick ride.

"Shoes…" she said slowly. "I don't recall seeing any horse wearing shoes. I can't even picture it," she said with a shake of her head.

He laughed, he couldn't help it. "A horse's shoes are not like our shoes. They are small hoof shaped irons that rim the underside of their hooves. They are nailed into place on the bottom of the hoof. They protect a horse's hoof from cracking and splitting when on hard surfaces. Many of the nicer or larger cities have cobblestone streets, which are dangerous to a horse's hooves."

"Titan…" she said quietly.

He couldn't imagine the stallion putting up with that. "He will need shoed eventually if you ever intend to take him out of the countryside. As a witcher you will be travelling to a lot of different places, if you intend to keep him as your main or only mount, then he will need shoed."

"Then I will see to that while you take out the mare."

"Then I shall accompany you to make sure the blacksmith knows just what you need."

They led the mare and the stallion from the stable. They dismounted in front of the blacksmith's and went in. "Good morn, Emereth, do you have any assistants around that are able to shoe a stallion?"

Emereth rubbed his chin in thought. "That depends on the mood of the stallion. The large gold one, I presume?"

"Yes, he is called Titan and he is my…partner's mount," Davor replied evenly.

Emereth grinned. "A mighty fine steed, and he's a lady's mount? Then he has manners?"

"Not likely," Davor laughed. "At least not unless the lady is present. He was wild caught, he was never tame and never broke to saddle, but he is a kitten with her."

Emereth studied the female witcher. She was different than the other witchers he'd met and that had nothing to do with the fact that she was a woman. The power that surrounded her was nearly tangible. "There is something different about you….who are you?"

She folded her arms over her chest. "I am Angel."

The elf shook his head. "What is your true name?"

"Syntl," she said cautiously.

Emereth's eyes opened wide. "Justice…the name inscribed on the swords…"

Syntle blinked. "How do you know what my name means?"

The accent was off, the language a bit more lilting..but that was ancient elven. "How do you know the speech of the ancients?" he asked speaking in kind.

Her eyes narrowed. "I do not…it is they that speak mine."

A shudder passed through Emereth's body and he dropped to the ground prostrating himself in front of her. "It was prophesied that you would return. 'When the winds of change turn cold, the heavens will tremble, justice takes flight and the king shall hunt no more'."

She looked at Davor and shook her head before returning her attention to the elf at her feet. "Please rise. I'm sorry, I've never heard of this prophecy and I do not even know what it means."

Emereth rose to his feet. "Lack of knowledge does not null the prophecy. I cannot tell you what it means; only that it is. You must seek out the answer or wait for it to seek you."

This was all surreal. "I'm sorry, Emereth, I'm not who you think I am. I am here by accident. I am not of this world, so its destiny cannot pertain to me. I'm just Angel here. That is all."

Emereth felt bad for his queen. He could not imagine being thrust into a role he knew nothing about. "My liege, Queen of the Ancients, I am but a humble servant. Your arrival was no accident. You are here because you are needed. I'm sorry, my liege, but you cannot stop what will be. Destiny will not allow you to forsake her, even if you try." He reached behind his counter and pulled out the finished silver sword. He removed the pommel and replaced it with another befitting his queen. He bowed and held it out to her.

She sucked in her breath at the sight of the sword. The runes on the blade and guard of the sword glowed blue with a life of their own; stronger and more vivid than they had on the other sword. Her name 'Syntl' glowed with the same living fire. The pommel was an intricately carved silver crown with five wickedly sharp small spikes. "Ohhh, Emereth, it's breathtaking. I-" She slid the silver sword into the empty scabbard and hugged the elf. "Thank you, Emereth. There is no equal."

Emereth flushed, but hugged her back before stepping away. "I will shoe your Titan. No charge. But I beg that you remain here while I do. I'd prefer to come out of it in one piece, my liege."

She laughed. "Of course, my friend. And please, call me Angel." She turned to Davor. "I'll see you soon."

Right, the ride. He'd been overwhelmed with all that he'd heard and seen. He'd completely forgotten about the mare. He squeezed her shoulder and left the shop. He rubbed the white mare between her soft grey eyes. "We're going to see how you feel about being a witcher's horse." He grinned when she tossed her head and swung into the saddle.

He grabbed a notice from the board and headed out. This one pertained to a merchant wagon that had been attacked. The notice had claimed it was a dragon, but then most peasants didn't know a pommel from a guard.

It didn't take him long to find the wagon, fully intact, but the horse lay on the ground with its belly torn open. And much as he'd assumed there was no dragon, just a wyvern head deep in the horse's gut. He withdrew his silver blade and charged. It wasn't something he'd normally do, but he was testing the mare's resolve and ability to take commands under duress.

The wyvern jerked its head from the cavity, bloody intestines draped from its snout. It shook its head, but the stubborn bits remained. With a claw from its wing it scraped off the visceral and hissed at the trespassers, swinging its tail in warning.

Davor pulled the horse to a stop near the wagon and eyed the wyvern critically. He could smell the sour stench of infection. The wyvern was emaciated; an open, jagged gash on its leg was festering; probably from an attack by a larger wyvern, perhaps fighting over food or mate. Regardless, the wyvern was in bad shape. That was why it attacked the slow moving horse. Thanks to Angel's influence he now felt bad about putting it down, but he knew he had to. Even if the injury would heal on its own, it would take too long and that made the wyvern very dangerous for anyone traveling this part of the road.

He patted the mare's neck as he dismounted. He edged closer to the beast. It took a halting step and swung its spike laden tail. Davor dodged and swung his silver sword; the spiked bulb fell to the ground and rolled. The wyvern let off an ear-splitting scream and he clenched his jaw. He would have preferred the kill to be clean; he had no desire to torture the beast any more than it was. He charged the beast, feinted to the left and when the beast turned in that direction he launched his body in the air, twisted into the arch and brought his blade down hard as he landed, severing head from neck. With a sigh he tied the head to the saddle and returned to town. The merchant could go collect his own junk if he wanted it; the contract was for the dragon not the merchandise. At least it was a quick 800.

After he collected on the contract he headed for the stable. He was surprised to see Angel waiting for him. When he dismounted she flew into his arms and hugged him tight. Who was he to complain? Though, he was uncomfortable with anyone seeing them, he didn't want damage her reputation anymore than it was for her travelling unchaperoned with a man. Hopefully her being a witcher waylaid some of those tongues.

Her eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I don't know how I'll ever repay you for the swords!"

"Repay me?" he asked in surprise. "I'm the one that got you into this! The swords are the very least I can do, that and see that you get to a good school, with a just master… and be there at your beck and call.."

"Oh now you're just being silly!" she admonished.

"Perhaps… perhaps not. I notice you have all our things. Are you ready to head out?"

She nodded. "The innkeep wanted us to pay for another day, so I thought it best to clear out."

"I am in agreement. I'll stop at the inn and purchase some lunch for the road," he said as he turned to head towards the inn.

"No need," she said with a pleased grin. "I already did. Please note the extra skins hanging from our saddles. I do know the word lunch, you know. And I even found a few silvers in the couch to cover it."

"It appears I stand corrected," he said as he swung into Spook's saddle. "And a fine coincidence, that."

"Oh, couches always have money between the cushions; I think it's a law," she said with a light laugh. When Titan kneeled she mounted up.

"Good to know should we fall in need of coin. A treasure hunt without risk of life and limb…that would be a novel experience," he said as he urged Spook into a trot.

"A treasure hunt…I had not thought of it that way, but that is what it felt like when I was buried up to my elbows in the couch cushions. And you should know, my sweet boy did wonderful for Emereth," she said giving his neck a pat. "He's got nice shiny shoes now. It took a bit of sweet-talk on my part, but he'd rather wear the monstrosities than be left behind."

"Probably because he does not wish to see you atop another steed," he said with a chuckle. He understood the stallion completely. There is little he wouldn't do to keep her as his and his alone, except interfere with her free will.

They rode until the sun sank and the first drops of rain alerted them to the downpour that would soon ensue. With the wave of her hand she created a cabin with an attached stable and they rode the horses straight into the stable. There was no flooring to the stable other than lush grass. There was a small chute that extend from the exterior connected to a wooden trough on the interior. If it rained enough the horses would have water.

They dismounted, grabbed the food from their saddles and dropped the slat of wood into its cradle to lock the doors from the outside. Safe from predators and dry, that was all she could really offer them. She could create anything natural, if she knew what it was made of, except food. She could create food, it would look and taste like the real thing, but it lacked most the nutritional aspects, and if imbibed on for too long one would slowly starve, even while feeling full. So she didn't like doing it.

The rain began to fall in earnest so they dashed to the cabin's front door. He dropped the wooden slat into place to lock the door behind them. The room was laid out much as the room in the last inn had been, but there were no candles. Instead there appeared to be a glowing moss on three of the walls well away from the bed. The bed was shadowed in darkness but the rest of the cabin was sufficiently lit. "I think I prefer your method of lighting to candles. No messy drips and no risk of burning down the cabin. Is that how you light your rooms at home?" he asked as he placed some of the wood stacked next to the hearth into the iron grate and lit it. He found the lever, had to pull a bit harder than was expected, but was able to open the flue.

"No," she said with a laugh. "I mean, we can…some do just for the ambience, but everything in our home is run from dark energy." She blushed. "I'm sorry; I wasn't sure how the flue was attached, so I improvised."

"I am not complaining. I'm just grateful not to be sleeping in the rain," he said as he removed his armor and sat down at the table with his food pouch in hand. As they ate he became concerned. Something was off about her tonight; she was more quiet than usual. But it was more than that. There was a look in her eyes that he couldn't decipher and she ate woodenly, just going through the motions.

When it was obvious she had eaten as much as she was going to, he put the leftovers away, took her hand and led her to the couch and pulled her down next to him. "Would you mind telling me what is on your mind?" he asked quietly.

"What?" she asked distractedly. She blinked. "I'm sorry. I've been feeling something since this evening and I'm not sure what it is." She shook her head. "It's like I feel a pull to go in the direction we are traveling, but a bit more to the east."

"Sounds like Kaer Morhen," he said cautiously. "To get their directly, that is the way we'd go, but I'd rather not go straight up a mountainside, so I'm taking us through a pass. Is this – er…pull bothering you?"

She wrung her hands in her lap slowly. "Imagine needing to go through a door. It is the only way, yet you fear what might be lurking behind that door. It's not a rational fear; it is a soul deep fear." Her hands clenched into fists. "I'm sorry; I don't know how to explain it. That's not quite right. In front of you is a bright red button. The buttons says "Do Not Push," but with a sick fascination you know you are going to push it anyway, even though you also know you will regret that you ever did." She growled. "That's not quite right either, maybe it is a combination of the two, I don't know. I just know that I have to go, but when I do something…something is waiting for me…that something will change everything. I don't know if that is good or bad, only that it is. And that not knowing…" her words trailed off.

He pulled her onto his lap and cradled her against him. "We don't have to go to Kaer Morhen. I'll teach you all I know, we'll get by. We work well together." A part of him preferred this. He wouldn't have to give her up to the keep. The days and nights would belong to them.

She reached up to stroke his smooth cheek. "You have a beautiful heart, don't ever lose that. But as I said, with sick fascination I have to push the red button. I cannot alter my course. The feeling is too strong. I'm not one to believe in destinies. I don't believe I'm here for the reasons Emereth said. But I do know I have to see this through."

He nodded. It was the same thing he'd felt when he helped her escape Griffin Keep. Not for a single moment did he regret pushing that red button and regardless where fate led them, he never would. He only hoped that Angel too would face no regrets. He scooped her up into his arms and laid her in the bed. He curled around her and drew up the covers. The heavy patter of the rain lulled them to sleep.

-BREAK SEVEN-

They awoke to the sounds of birds chirping as dawn broke the sky. After taking care of his morning needs he released the horses to take care of their own and then worked on her training. With her new swords she was faster and more agile than before. She swung them effortlessly. He didn't use his strength against her, that wasn't the point. Making sure she knew to block efficiently. It didn't take long for him to recognize that she was able to block or dodge his every attempt. He then showed her how to parry successfully for a counter attack. He knew she was capable enough against beasts, but sword fight against a sentient being with skill was another matter all together. Obviously, she could use her own power or the signs and never have to lift her swords, but as a witcher swords were a way of life and it was her life now, for as long as she was here, and he wanted her well versed in it.

They practiced until she understood the basics of counterattacking and striking. Her body was agile, beyond a doubt and that lent her a speed not often seen. She blended what he showed her into the fighting style she already knew, merely adapting it to sword use, and he found himself on the defensive a couple of times. She was fast and she just seemed to flow around him, everywhere at once. Once she learned the more advanced moves she would be someone to reckon with. Finally, he lowered his sword, tip down to the ground, signifying a halt. He sheathed his sword. "You were splendid," he said, kissing her damp forehead.

He then showed her the plants in the area that could be used for potions, oils or even bombs. He collected what he would use and stored them in his saddle bags. "There is one more thing I want to show you before we leave." He took her hand and kneeled on the ground. "There will be times when you will need to regain your focus or energy." He grinned. "Well, you may not, but a normal witcher would, so I want you familiar with the concept of meditation. Obviously, only do so in a safe place," he said with a quirk of his lips. Find a comfortable position that you can hold for a decent period of time. Close your eyes and empty all thought from your head. Trust me; this is harder to do than you'd think. If you are successful you will enter a trance. In this trance phase your body will recover its energy, when it is revitalized you will awaken from the trance. The trance can be broken prematurely by danger, so you are not defenseless. Practice emptying your mind and give me a moment."

He closed his eyes and felt the slight pull of vertigo when he fell into a meditative trance. A few minutes later his eyes blinked open. He did not think he'd be able to meditate, but his sparring with her must have used up more energy than he knew. He rose slowly so as not to disturb her, but he saw her eyes open.

"You are right; it is more difficult than I thought it would be. How do you turn off the whispers of the dead?" she asked curiously.

"The what?" he asked in surprise as he looked around the area trying to find any sign of a vengeful spirit, but his senses picked up nothing. "My senses do not pick up any signs of spirits."

She bit her lip trying to think of how to explain what she'd felt. "It wasn't quite like that. Perhaps it was echos from the past…or spirits that are just too weak come further into the land of the living. I don't know. But I heard childrens' laughter, sobbing, a woman singing of her lost love. I heard the trees whispering to each other…the sound of clashing steel…and that is when I woke up."

His mouth fell open. He'd never heard of such a thing. Well, some mages could commune with the dead, but that often involved dark magic and she had no magic. But the trees talking? "It sounds like you were in a trance…but I've never heard of anything like that happening. Perhaps master Vesemir will have more insight into that. For now, perhaps you should forgo the meditation, I wouldn't wish for the trees to whisper thoughts of murdering me in our bed whilst I sleep," he teased.

She threw a small rock at him. "That's horrible, Davor!"

He dodged the missile with a laugh and headed into the cabin. Gone was the furniture of her time, instead it was like anything you'd see in any inn, the couch a mere wooden bench with no back. With the fire out he closed the flue to prevent vermin from getting in, though he wasn't sure why he bothered, it would all be gone in a blink. He grabbed their food satchels and stepped from the cabin. The horses were waiting and she was already mounted. He tied a pouch to her saddle, did the same for himself and then mounted his gelding. As they headed out he notice the cabin remained. "You are leaving it up?" he asked curiously.

"Of course," she said with a smile. "Someone in need may stumble upon it. May it protect them as it did us." She shivered as a strong breeze whipped her through her hair. "It's getting colder."

"Winter will be here soon and it will get colder the closer we get to Kaer Morhen. The keep is in the mountains and winter reaches the mountains before it does the lower lands. The leaves you see on the ground shows the trees are preparing for winter. But we'll get there before it gets too cold. It's quite possible we'll even meet up with witchers returning to the keep for the winter." He pulled Spook to a stop. "Do you need a blanket?" He knew her blood was hotter than his and thus she felt the cold more keenly.

"No, not yet. The cold doesn't hinder me, it's just uncomfortable. Come on, we have a long way to go," she reminded him.

They stopped for a quick lunch a few hours later. He explained a couple of new herbs that he'd found, but that was about it, they were mounted and on their way. By his estimation they would reach Kaer Morhen within a couple of weeks. But it seemed the closer they got the more troubled she became.

That night it was he that requested she create a cabin. There wasn't much room, but a bed, hearth and small table was all they really needed. It wasn't because he enjoyed sleeping in one of her beds, though in truth he did, but he was concerned about her getting cold. They brushed down the horses, cleaned their hooves and set them free for the night before heading into the small cabin.

Once he had the fire going he handed her some dried meat and left the cabin to hunt up something to eat for himself. He wanted to save the dried meat for her because he didn't know when or if they'd hit another small town before they arrived at Kaer Morhen, at least not from the direction he was taking them. He caught sight of a hare, murmured an apology and threw his knife. It fell silently to the ground. He cleaned it there rather than at camp, rolled up the skin, wiped his knife on the grass and sheathed it. He impaled the corpse on a branch and carried it back to camp. He gathered stones, started a fire and began cooking it. It smelled heavenly, though he doubted Angel would agree.

He stepped into the cabin to find angel sitting cross legged on the bed staring off into space. "Wanted to let you know I was out front."

She looked over at him and smiled. "Would you like some company?"

His lips twitched and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Always, but I don't think you want to be there. I'm cooking dinner."

"It's okay," she said quietly. "I know there are few options and you have to eat."

"And so do you," he pointed out. "That dried meat is only going to last so long, so it needs conserved for times when we cannot hunt. And if you go out there, chances are you won't eat any of it."

She closed her eyes. "I'm trying. It's just…" her words trailed off.

He sat down on the bed and pulled her against him. "I know you are. You've had to make a lot of adjustments coming here. I can't even imagine how hard it would be to go through what you've gone through and you've come a long way. I'm proud of you." He gave her another squeeze and rose.

She watched him leave the cabin and sighed. She didn't feel much like being alone. She wrapped a blanket around her and went outside. She created a bench near the fire and sat down on it. She felt a sense of peace, at least for the moment, when he joined her. "Regardless of Ivanth, I'm glad you found me. I don't think I tell you how much I appreciate that you are who you are enough. At times I find myself thinking what might have happened if you hadn't found me. I would have arisen in a world where nothing made sense. I wouldn't have known where any towns were, I would have just wandered aimlessly until I either stumbled upon a town or someone stumbled upon me. If someone had stumbled upon me, what kind of person would they have been? Would they have tried to help or hurt me? Would I have had to kill them?" Her fingers played with the blanket's edge for a moment.

"I know I say I don't believe in destiny or fate or things happening for a reason and I've never questioned that before, but there are other times when I wonder how you happened to be just where you were at just the time you needed to be to find me? And what kind of luck was it that such a compassionate man would have been the one to find me? Was it all random chance? My rational mind says that it was just a series of fortunate events, but a small part of me wonders if that's the case, especially since I began feeling the pull. A pull isn't chance; it's a feeling or an instinct, not chance. And if that's the case then everything has happened just as it was supposed to so that I could be here where I am now."

There was much truth to her words, but it still bothered him. "We don't even know if this pull is good or bad," he reminded her.

She looked over at him. "That has no bearing. It simply doesn't matter whether I'm going to my death or beginning life anew or anything in between, because the pull tells me that's where I need to be."

"It matters to me," he said gruffly.

She bumped her knee to his. "I doubt I'm going to my death, it was a point I was making. Besides, it would take an awful lot of effort to actually keep me dead, and they'd have to know how to do it…that's not something I'm about to share with anyone. So, stop worrying."

He took the hare from the fire and leaned the skewer against the bench to allow it to cool a bit. He tilted her chin up and brushed his lips against hers. "I shall stop worrying when I have breathed my last." With a wink he turned away from her, placed a plate on each thigh and tore the meat from the bones. When the carcass was bare he tossed it into the fire and turned to hand a plate to her. He set it on her lap when she didn't take it right away. "Please eat, Angel, our journey is long," he said quietly before turning to his own plate.

She watched the fire crackle and spit but thankfully the bones were mostly obscured by the flames. She did her best to quell her belly and forced herself to eat what he had given her. She stopped for a moment when a wave of nausea hit her and she swallowed hard.

When they were done, she took their plates down to the stream to wash them. She wondered how they were going to clean the plates when there was no stream nearby. After cleaning them she set the plates on the bank and dabbed some cold water on her face. That did wonders for her roiling belly. He was just returning from the woods when she joined him at the fire.

He took the plates from her hand and carried them into the cabin to lay them on the table to dry. He turned to her and took hold of her icy hands. Without thought he slid them under his shirt, pressing her palms to the warmth of his skin and then covered her hands with his. "Next time I will wash them."

She groaned and leaned into him, his heat drawing her to him like a moth to a flame. "I am not helpless and I need to feel useful."

He closed his eyes. "It was never my intension to make you feel useless. I have never seen you as useless. You take care of the horses, you put a roof over our heads, I sleep on a cloud and wake up refreshed." He sighed. "But if you are determined to wash the dishes then I shall content myself with warming you afterwards. Deal?"

She grinned and slipped her hands out from under his to hug him. "Deal."

-BREAK EIGHT-

One day slid into another. They awoke every morning to train and recite the properties of useful herbs, followed by breakfast. They brushed out the horses, picked their hooves clean, checked their shoes, then saddled and rode out. Cabins dotted the path behind them. Every night they talked around the fire, he cooked their dinner, removing the meat from the bones, of course, and then sat quietly for awhile before he curled up next to her and went to sleep.

Occasionally they would run into drowners, but it seemed most monsters were tucking themselves away for the winter. At one point they had stumbled upon a wraith. He explained to her what it took to destroy a wraith, but true to her nature she preferred to locate her body and free her with the truth of her death. The spirit thanked her and departed. He couldn't have been more proud. He would have taken the easy way out, perhaps he'd become jaded over the years, but her outlook was refreshing and he needed that.

One thing he did miss was making love to her. The closer she got to Kaer Morhen the more apprehensive she became. He wasn't sure what to do to about it. That changed, however, when the skies opened up with icy rain. She created a cabin and stable, with a connecting door this time and they were drying off in front of the fire when he broke out his cards. He taught her how to play gwent. He explained the cards and their value. He'd been collecting for awhile and had some of every deck, but only Northern Realms and Nilfgaardian Empire consisted of full decks. He allowed her to choose which she favored and he gifted her with the deck she chose. Everyone should have at least on qwent deck.

She, of course, knew nothing of politics of the land so chose based solely on the fact that one of the decks had a sun on it. The game itself was confusing. She knew nothing of the people and items stamped onto the cards. The first 2 games they played through he played the games through against himself, showing her each card and how to place it and use it, when to pass and when not to pass.

After the second game she was starting to grasp the concept, but it seemed like a lot of trouble for a game. Mapping out a siege or a war was not really her idea of a relaxing, good time, but it seemed to be his, so she was willing to play.

They played a few rounds with coins, just so she would become familiar with betting and then he suggested something a little more fun. They would bet clothing instead of coin and the game took a very different turn for them. She flashed armor onto them and then dematerialized each piece as one of them lost.

By the time she had nothing left to remove he had only his pants and undersuit bottoms left on. With a grin he pulled her from her chair and onto his lap, his mouth capturing hers with a pent up need. His clothing was melted away by the time they made it to the bed.

He spent the rest of the day and the night in her arms, only leaving them long enough to eat or take a brief walk outside to answer the call of nature and let the horses out long enough to do theirs. It ended up raining three days in a row and he took advantage of this time with her.

He also taught her dice poker, which she caught on much faster to and appeared to enjoy playing it. By the time the sun broke on the fourth day their supply of jerked meat was depleted. From here on until they arrived at Kaer Morhen, they would have to rely on hunting alone. And they had to hope it did not rain for days again.

Though the ground was wet they practiced their morning rituals and then left the cabin behind. He looked back at the cabin one last time, etching it into his mind. Never had he been happier than the last few days with her. With a sigh, he turned Spook and caught up with Angel, patting Opal on the rump as he passed her.

When she told him what the mare's name was, he assumed the mare once belonged to a noble lady. But according to Angel, the mare did not appear to want to go back to that life. "You do realize that mares go into heat once a month? If Titan impregnates her, she will be useless as a witchers horse. He should be gelded as soon as possible, Angel. If left intact he will attempt to breed with every mare in heat. And you need to be able to rely on him in any situation, not have his mind fogged with instinct."

"How?" she asked him directly.

He flushed and cleared his throat. He squeezed his thighs together just thinking about it. "He's far too old for them to be clamped and cut, they will probably tie something tightly around his…er…jewels until they - er…"

She stared at him in horror. "Until they rot and fall off? No. Absolutely not. There must be another way. Hmm…the need to breed is an instinct, not a memory, so I cannot remove it or lock it away. But I think I can dampen it by binding it. I could probably destroy the instinct, but I won't. And I can certainly make sure he cannot reproduce, so in that regard he will be sterile, until I choose to lift it. He is a stunning male; I would love for him to have offspring someday." She pulled the blanket tighter to her. She hated that she would have to do that to him, but Davor was right, the alternative could prove inopportune at the very least and dangerous at its worst. "When we stop for the night, I'll take care of it," she said quietly.

He knew she had great power, but had no clue that she could sterilize someone. He wished becoming a witcher had not sterilized him. For the first time in his life he wanted children and he wanted them with her. "There is something you need to know. It didn't even occur to me until now. The mutations a witcher goes through…it sterilizes them. I'm not sure it is the same for women…but you may not be able to have children and for that I'm sorry."

She smiled softly at his regard for her. "That is not something you need to worry about. My body is sterile until I choose it to be otherwise." She frowned. "I had not realized witchers were sterile. But if they are as amorous as you say, then perhaps that is better than leaving behind a trail of offspring. Still, it is troubling. I'm sure some wish to eventually retire, take a wife and have a family. It is sad they are forever denied that."

"Most witchers choose to fight until they meet their end, but I've no doubt there are some that would love to retire to a life you describe. Especially those forced into service via the Law of Surprise." He was such a man and he wanted the life he was denied. "Can you reverse the sterilization?" he asked curiously.

She wiped away the tear that slipped down her cheek. She knew he was victim of the Law of Surprise. That he had been an Unexpected Child, forced to be a witcher and her heart ached for him. "I don't think so. I just don't know. If you were sterile for natural reasons, I could heal you…but you were mutated. I wouldn't know how to begin to correct such a thing. I fear it is beyond me. I'm sorry, Davor. More sorry than I can say."

He released a ragged breath. He hadn't meant to make her feel bad. "There is nothing for you to be sorry about. I didn't expect there was anything you could do. No matter," he said with a grin he didn't quite feel. "There are always orphans and poor children in need of loving parents, if a witcher did decide to settle down."

It was sad that children suffered here. That anyone suffered. But there was only so much she could do. If it weren't approaching winter she'd make every field she passed grow thick, but as it stood there was little she could do. She had been studying the blankets that they had; they appeared to be made from hair of some kind. She might be able to make something passable and offer those to people, but that would not fill their bellies or their pocket with coin. "There are no orphans or poor where I come from. If one of us does die, children would be eagerly taken in by another to be raised. They are never forsaken."

"That sounds ideal. But how are there no poor?" he asked curiously.

"We all take care of each other," she said simply. "There are no poor, no rich. The Council has prestige and authority, but they live as all of us do. We want for nothing. Not that we all have exactly the same things, because our wants and needs are individual."

"Are there no criminals in the land of perfect?" he teased.

She cocked a golden brow. "As in thieves and bandits? No. Nothing like that. There would be no need. But there are laws that can be broken. Bringing a seedling to our home, interfering when we are sent to observe, hurting another….these types of crimes rarely happen. I don't know of any in my lifetime. But in theory their sentence could be anywhere from a rebuke to banishment. Their powers would be bound by the Council and they would be sent through a gateway never to return."

"I can see why there is little crime. To be banished from such a world…" he shook his head. Who would ever risk such a punishment? "You are immortals, isn't over population a concern?"

"Not precisely. Children are few and far between and our territory is rather vast. And if one chooses to take a break from everything, they can join the sleepers. We have planets dedicated to the sleepers. They are arranged by profession and can be talked to," she said pointing to her head, "if their wisdom is needed, otherwise they are at rest, sometimes for centuries."

He was beyond stunned. "That seems very practical and well thought out."

She laughed. "We have had a long time to work out all the details."

A comfortable silence settled between them for the rest of the day, each deep within their own thoughts. At night he held her though she tossed and turned restlessly. They were nearing the keep, should be within sight of it within a day or two and they were balancing on the edge of the precipice of the unknown. The only thing he did know for sure was that his nights were going to get a lot colder.