Kateskates, sneaky indeed! That's Gaunter for you!
Lucy, no problem, I totally get you! School and work are keeping me so busy here it's hard to find any time at all to write. This story is taking longer to write than I would have though, mainly because stuff seems to fill the general outline I've made for it all the time. However, you're going to get to see how Alyra still contributes to the Witcher 3 story soon enough!
ChollyMax, hmm a good question! I'd say a value of… 10? She's strong but not unbeatable. Maybe a special effect? She'd be a melee card of course, with an automatic drawing of the Ghevir and Edrick card? Both of them are nines.
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Ge'els approached her as she was getting ready to mount Segomo, wearing an expression she found herself quite unable to read.
"Yes?" She asked cautiously as the tall Aen Elle came to her side and patted her horse on the neck slowly. Strangely enough, Segomo, who was usually not very keen on being touched, accepted the gesture with a soft whicker. Nearby, Nathiel was sitting on another black horse and Imlerith was leading his huge war steed from the stables.
"It is customary for the king's generals to own a manse and reside within it." The viceroy began, glancing at her. "You can either chose to pick from one of the uninhabited palaces available in the city, or ask to have one of your own choosing built in the vicinity. What would you prefer?"
She shrugged uneasily, the question taking her off guard. "Do I have to live in a manse?"
Ge'els raised an eyebrow. "You can chose to remain with the king in his palace, if so you wish."
"So even with the promotion, I'm still his bloody concubine? Makes one wonder why the rest of his generals don't get such an honor." Alyra half-snarled, surprized by her sudden aggression. She hadn't realized it, but she had indeed hoped to have regained more of her own freedom now that she was a general of the Wild Hunt.
"As a matter of fact…" Ge'els said loftily, and for the first time, she was struck with an odd premonition, as though there was a lot more to him than met the eye. Alyra was suddenly both wary and curious. "The king is still cross with you over the whole betting and Witcher ordeal, so he is purposely avoiding you. However, he has spoken to me, being most clear in his instructions: you are now one of his generals and have no different a position or standing than Caranthir, Imlerith or Nithral. Which means you are not bound to him in any other manner than in servitude of the Wild Hunt. You are free to sleep wherever and… with whomever you wish."
Those words struck her hard and she did not know what to make of them. Seeing her unable to formulate an answer, Ge'els kept going.
"I do however believe he would be even more cross should you chose to completely avoid him. I would perhaps recommend you let him cool off and resume your relationship as it was. But you are free to do as you like."
Alyra sighed lengthily, fiddling with Segomo's saddle as she noticed Imlerith staring at her impatiently. If she was no longer considered the king's concubine, did that mean that others were free to try courting her? Did that mean… that Imlerith could come after her again? The thought sent unpleasant shivers down her back.
"What will it be?" Ge'els prompted her and she looked at him despairingly. "About the manse?"
"Oh…" She shook her head to clear it. "Can I… can I just have a small place built next to my soldiers' barracks? Would that be alright?"
He seemed to ponder that momentarily. "I don't suppose it'll cause any sort of issue."
Alyra nodded and put her foot in a stirrup, rising up gracefully into the saddle. Before she could leave, Ge'els laid a gentle hand on her leg and she glanced down, confused at the gesture.
The viceroy was looking up at her with those yellowish eyes sparkling strangely.
"If you should ever find yourself longing for a night away from loneliness, know that my door is always open to you, Alyrethielle."
With that, he turned and walked off lightly, leaving her with a very perplexed look on her face. For a few seconds, she wondered if Gaunter was still weaving his magic and messing with her mind… what had all that been about? The girl kicked Segomo into motion and followed Imlerith, Nathiel and three armored soldiers into the portal that the mage had produced. She could not shake the itching feeling that some unseen force had set off a very precarious chain of events into motion and that her fairly quaint existence was about to crumble into a mess of chaos such as she had never seen.
They emerged into a very damp marsh and she immediately pulled on her tightly woven mask to protect her nose from the smells and her lungs from the potentially poisonous gases. She saw the huge general talk lowly with Nathiel, who then seemed to cast some spell to find the path they had to follow… it took a moment before they set out again, their horses wading in the shallow waters. The air around them was heavy and strangely quiet, as though not even the wind dared sneak between the mossy branches here.
Meanwhile, Alyra did a bit of introspection, trying to make sense of her situation.
Her relationship with Eredin had grown cool ever since they had made that bet about a Witcher army. She'd become engrossed in incredibly intense training sessions with her soldiers and he was too busy chasing Cirilla, meaning they had seen each other less and less often as the months progressed. Last time she'd visited him in his palace was some two months ago and their exchange had been tense, aggressive and cool, ending with an even bigger gap forming between them. It had bothered her slightly, because she had so far enjoyed the king's touch and general presence, neither loving nor hating him for what he had done to her. It had become easy to meet with him and sleep with him and now even that was gone…
But by making her a general, he had supposedly freed her of her sexual obligation to him… this meant that she could perhaps consider seeking solace elsewhere, even if she knew, deep down, that it would be wise to return to Eredin…
Alyra's mind immediately turned to Ghevir. She had a very close relationship with the Aen Elle, having a lot to talk about with him and feeling a solid connection between their beings. He was attractive and pleasant and she felt he had often expressed more than simple camaraderie when responding to her… She'd never led him on, knowing it would be suicidal to take someone into her bed when the king wanted her all to himself.
Then there was Edrick, who she was drawn to for all the wrong reasons: he looked so much like Letho, even acted so much like him… it was hard to keep the painful clenches away from her heart when she sometimes glanced at him and almost forgot who he was… she liked him a lot and got along famously with him, but she feared it was partly because he was so much like the Witcher she had once cared deeply for.
But she knew very well that she could not consider approaching either of them, even now. She was a general and their squad leader; it would be inappropriate and would send all the wrong messages to every other soldier in the whole army, should she chose to sleep with her own fighters. This frustrated her as she longed for the simple days, all of which seemed to have existed a lifetime ago, when she was alone on the road, free to do as she wished, without a single care other than perhaps finding a new Witcher contract to fill her pouch with gold. Alyra wondered briefly what she would have chosen to do in this situation if she was still as free as she had once been, but she chased to idea from her mind before it formed: it was unfair to torture herself with Ifs and Maybes. Things were as they were and there was no discernable way out of her predicament for the time being.
Finally, she thought of Ge'els… just what had his comment implied? Was he letting on more than she thought, or was she imaging things? The viceroy had never even slightly shown any sort of attraction to her, but he had always been kind and even helpful, considering that he reported to Eredin in the end. Now that he specifically knew that the king had given her free reign, he had made sure she was made of aware of that fact and had extended an invitation…
Alyra sighed into her mask, unable to fix her mind. She had no desire to make a decision, although she knew that now that the viceroy offered her such an offer, its knowledge would fester within her, gnawing at her thoughts until she finally made up her mind.
Around them, the swamp had grown wetter, their horses' hooves squelching on the muddy path they were following. She saw there were all manner of treats hanging from strings in the trees, unmoving in the very still air. The once-colorful wrappings had been tarnished by time and humidity, giving the items a very eerie, sickly aspect that seemed to coincide very well with their surroundings. Alyra found herself glancing around herself nervously, her skin crawling; it felt as though eyes were watching them from every shadow, and menacing murmurs wafted from the unmoving waters. She rode in the centre of the column, behind Nathiel, who followed Imlerith… nonetheless, she felt terribly exposed and let her hands amble down instinctively to the pommels of her swords, tracing her fingers over them as she surveyed the area with a scowl.
She wondered where they were, as she had never seen this place before. The king had ordered them to find allies in her world, but she could not recall ever travelling such a morbid swamp… he'd spoken of sorceresses… had she ever heard tales of sorceresses living in such a terrible place? All Alyra could recall was that most of the women she'd seen deal in magic preferred rich clothes, furs and the comfort of palaces… not the moist stench of such a creepy dwelling.
But she followed in silence, keeping her discomfort to herself, figuring that at least one of them knew where they were going…
It took time and a few stops, during which Nathiel whispered spells to guide them further, but they eventually emerged into a clearing that housed a few wooden shacks, precariously perched amidst the swampy waters. She just barely caught sight of a small girl dashing off behind one of the buildings with a glance over her shoulder, before the child was gone and they descended from their horses in the centre of the place.
Imlerith removed his helm and looked around. It took but a moment for the door to the largest shack to snap open so loudly and suddenly that Alyra stifled a cry. By the way Nathiel jumped, she could tell he was as nervous as she was.
There was a gust of wind through the trees that made the wooden shacks creak threateningly, as angry whispers echoed through the air and Alyra fell into a defensive position instinctively, loosening her swords in her scabbards, her lips drawn up into a snarl as she got ready to fight.
No one else moved, but Nathiel was ghastly pale, looking nervous. She tried to calm down, but her heart was racing as she fought with her fight or flight response.
"Well, well, well…" A voice like a snarl within a well drifted from the open shack, sending very unpleasant shivers down Alyra's back. "The half-blood thinks she can fight us? Is this why she came?"
There was a humorless chuckle as three… three creatures emerged from the structure. Alyra found no better word to describe them: they were hideously frightening, all deformed in some manner and sickeningly disgusting. Thankfully her mask hid at least part of her astounded expression.
Imlerith half-turned to glance at her, his sufficient smirk enough to force her to regain her composure. He obviously found it very amusing that she was this distraught.
"It would be our honor to dance with the half-blood…" The largest of the beasts snickered, her cord-ridden, overweight body jiggling with her saccadic motions. Her face was hidden by a sort of woven basket and Alyra found herself grateful for it.
"But if she mis-steps… if she misses the tune…" The hunchbacked one, carrying a sack full of body parts, her face hidden behind a reddish veil, said in a threatening voice.
"We'll slice and dice and eat her up whole!" The last one, her eyes a breeding ground for some sort of burrowing parasite, howled in that decrepit voice of hers, swishing her claws in the girl's general direction.
Alyra ripped off her mask, exposing her rictus. "You're welcome to try." She snarled, sounding braver than she felt.
The three witches howled with teeth-gritting laughter, until Imlerith raised an impatient hand to silence them.
"As much as I myself would enjoy seeing the girl get what's coming to her for that uncontrolled temper of hers, we're in a hurry."
"Of course, your lordship, how may the Crones serve you?" The three bowed low and made crooning noises.
Imlerith was to the point. "We are searching for someone: someone who has escaped our grasp into another world. We suspect they should manifest themselves soon enough and need you to keep a lookout for such an apparition of magic in this world. Can you do that?"
The big Crone chuckled with delight. "But of course, your lordship, anything for the great general of the Wild Hunt!"
The hunchbacked one crooned as well. "We can even guide this being to us if they try and teleport in this world… once we sense them, if they use magic anew, we can pull them here!"
"That would be ideal. You must contact us as soon as you have someone of the sort, as we need to get them under our control at once."
Alyra noticed how Imlerith pointedly avoided naming this person they were after, or even using her gender. This reminded her about what Gaunter had asked her to do before disappearing, so she slowly inched away from her horse and closer to the Crones, somehow suspecting that it would be best if Imlerith did not hear what she had to say.
"Of course your lordship!" The diseased-eye Crone said in a soft voice. "If your lordship would be so inclined, the Sabbath is in a few moons' turns. It is in your habit to attend… will we be graced by your presence this year as well?"
Imlerith smirked. "As always. I would hate to disappoint the succubi."
Alyra ignored the general mixed sounds of cackling and mumbling that followed, reaching the biggest of the Crones, which finally planted her veiled stare upon her. It was like being look at naked: she could not see the creature's eyes, but she sure could feel them on her… in her… they seemed to be prodding into her very soul, searching…
"A darkness clouds you, child. Every inch of you shall perish to it." The sorceress said in a very low voice. Alyra understood that somehow, the others could not hear them… this was for her alone.
She had nothing to reply to such a comment, but she did have a message to convey. Feeling nothing but revolt and calculated determination, she spoke.
"When you do catch the child of the Elder Blood for us, try and keep her alive. If you can resist the taste of her blood, that is."
The huge Crone visibly stumbled, taken aback by those words. Alyra felt savage pleasure at this sudden weakness, as though seeing it somehow reassured her: these beings were just beings and not supernatural gods… if they could be surprised, they could be killed. There was something comforting in that thought.
She didn't give the sorceress time to respond, turning around gracefully to walk back to her horse, as everyone was getting ready to leave.
It felt as though every piece was in place, even if she would not see the puzzle.
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When they returned, she made her way back to the war camp with only a nod to Nathiel and a cold look at Imlerith. Much to her surprise, workers had already begun building the base to a stone building near the barracks where her soldiers slept, several Aen Elle working elven magic to fashion large rocks into smaller slabs that fit so perfectly together it was as though they were seamless. She approached them and dismounted, unable to hide her wonder. One of the Aen Elle mages approached her.
"My lady." He nodded. "The viceroy has commissioned us to build you a manse here and has drawn up plans for it. Would you wish to see them, perhaps change a few things more to your liking?"
Alyra gaped at him, before taking a moment to clear her throat and gather her bearings. She glanced sideways and saw both Edrick and Ghevir standing nearby, snickering discreetly at her confusion. Their teasing sneers immediately cleared her mind and she turned to the Aen Elle. "Ge'els really hasn't wasted and time, has he? Well, alright… let's see those plans…"
She sent Edrick and Ghevir mockingly furious gestures and the two warriors slunk back, feinting terror, before walking off to resume their drills with the other soldiers. The Aen Elle brought her to a nearby table, which was laden with parchments and scrolls of all sorts, through which he pawed deftly before finding the blueprints for the manse. They poured over them for a long time, as she found she almost had to fight tooth and nail to get any actually changes. It seemed the elves had liked the plans very much and were not keen on changing them… especially since she ardently insisted the whole thing be made smaller. Ge'els had drawn up plans for a manse half the size of the king's palace, which was ludicrously large. She had had in mind something more the size of a small house… it took some negotiating, but she managed to get everyone to agree to build something a big bigger than what she would have wanted, but it seemed to only way to actually tone down the whole building.
"I don't need a garden full of peacocks." She said in an exasperated tone, for what must have been the hundredth time.
The Aen Elle tsked and shrugged. "They were most fitting, especially amidst the cherry blossoms…"
"I don't need those either!"
"And the fountains would have been no trouble…"
"No fountains!"
"Removing the courtyard basically removes the best part of the palace, my lady…"
"No courtyard! Look, I agreed to the rooftop garden; I think that's fair enough. All I need is a place to sleep, a place to relax and a place to train when I want to do it alone. Don't trouble yourselves…"
"It's no trouble, really. We do enjoy building grand things! I mean, if you would reconsider the peacocks…"
"No peacocks!"
This went on for long enough that she began feeling the start of a migraine settling behind her eyes. In the end, she conceded to several extravagant, useless (in her opinion) additions in order to not have a mansion standing at the edge of the war camp. The one room she was kind of glad to get was a library, commissioned with tons of books from various worlds. She was not much of a reader, but fully appreciated the value of knowledge.
Alyra was both exasperated and impressed with Ge'els. It seemed he had as much leverage as the king in the city, and he did have an eye for lovely things. However, she was finding it hard to decide if he'd done all this to tease her, or if he'd done it for other reasons…
She'd been unable to chase his proposal from her mind and found herself thinking about him time and time again during the day. Every time, she was left with a hollow feeling of self-doubt, as she fought with herself, wondering what she should do…
In the end, after the fiasco with the Aen Elle builders was over and the sun was setting over the camp, she decided that the best way to deal with the issue was to have a drink over it. She declined her soldiers' invitation to join them for supper and drinks, preferring rather to change out of her armor and into comfortable, dark clothes, before slipping out a back door form the barracks, unseen.
By that time, night had fallen and she swung by the stables to quickly saddle Segomo, before riding out towards the city, lost in thought, her cloak heavy and her face hidden beneath its fur-rimmed hood. Alyra took her time, wishing to attract no attention. She rode through the calm streets, her horse's iron shod hooves clanking on the cobblestones in rhythmic steps, making her way towards the port.
There was a tavern there she liked to sometimes visit, especially when she wanted to be alone. It was small and musty, partially hidden between two builds, and very few people ever went there unless the ships were being prepared to sail. It stood facing the sea and on calm days she liked to sit outside it and listen to the gentle sound of waves, finding them soothing. Tonight there was just a bit of wind and the waters were mostly still, but she liked the view nonetheless. A nearly full moon illuminated the sea, showing the ships moored in the bay as dark ghosts swaying in the distance. The biggest of them was of course the Naglfar, the king's ship. It stood like a menacing beast in on the horizon, black and deadly and she found herself shivering at the sight of it, glad she'd never seen it sail.
Alyra tied Segomo to a post facing a basin full of water and snuck inside the tiny establishment.
As it was every time she came here, she was forcibly reminded on the tiny, grimy tavern in Southern Velen, where she'd met the mage Ekrayn of Poviss, who had hired her and ultimately led her down the path that trapped her in this world… Alyra tried not to think of that, knowing it would only bring her sorrow. She picked a table off to the back of the dark room, noting that there were only two other patrons here at this time, one of which was passed out in a puddle of beer and drool on a nearby table, the other of which was brooding in a corner, swaying in his seat as he downed glass after glass of blood-red wine.
The tavern keeper, a burly, large woman most probably of human descent, came sundering out from a room behind the counter, making a beeline for Alyra as soon as she lay her narrowed, dark eyes on the seated girl. She looked mean, but Alyra knew the woman could be kind, albeit a bit hard at times.
"What'll it be?" It sounded annoyed, but there was a tiny smile on the woman's pockmarked face and the girl knew she'd recognized her. It was hard not to: she was still somewhat of a star these days.
"The usual, Irma. Thanks."
The large woman winked and waddled off to fetch a clean mug of beer for her customer.
Alyra fell into thought again, scratching absently at the caked dirt on the wooden table. She simply couldn't seem to get Ge'els out of her mind, it seemed… for the first time since she'd arrived in this world, she found herself thinking of the viceroy in a more personal way… before, he'd always been just another being in her existence, neither friend nor foe, certainly not someone she was particularly interested in…
But he was a very handsome being… he didn't have the brutish charm Eredin possessed, but had an altogether different sort of magnetism, the sort that was mysterious and subtle… Alyra remembered his bright, yellow eyes and how they had looked at her with great interest earlier that day. She was reminded of a Witcher's eyes, but with a more… human touch to them.
Her beer arrived and she thanked Irma.
"You fought well, girl." The strong woman said after a split second of hesitation and it took Alyra just a bit longer to understand that she was talking about the battle in the arena. "Showed 'em all it's not just the boys that can kick some ass. Women are a tenfold stronger, when they want to be."
Alyra smiled, raising her glass and Irma winked again, returning to her bar.
It took another big mug of strong lager to help her finally make up her mind, after which she rose to pay for her consumptions and leave. Irma insisted on offering her the beer, saying it was on the house, so Alyra thanked her and left soundlessly. Segomo was dozing and snorted when she came up to him, but did not protests as they rode back out onto the streets.
Everything was calm and quiet.
Everything but her hammering heart.
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I'm going to be a bitch and stop this here because this chapter is long enough! Please review, the more I get, the faster I'll post what Alyra's going to do next!
Take care everyone and please review!