The Witcher: Fire & Blood
…
Chapter 1: Life on the Path I
On a beaten dirt path, a dark brown mare slowly trotted bearing its rider who wore a long black cloak with a hood over his head. Beneath the hood of the rider gleamed a pair of golden amber eyes with the pupils being vertical slits much like a cat or viper's eyes. Dangling from a silver chain was a medallion fashioned in the shape of a snarling wolf's head. A day's worth of stubble bristled on the man's jaw, the short silver-blonde bristles gleaming. The age of the rider was hard to determine, but appeared to be of fairly young age but the weather-beaten face added more years to that.
Looking up at the grey clouds, the rider sniffed the air briefly and muttered in a low voice. "Storm's coming," he said to himself quietly. Giving the mare a slightly kick, the rider urged his steed into a steady canter. The mare snorted softly as it cantered steadily along the dirt road. Passing through the wooded forest, birds cawed and croaked and the wind rustled the leaves of the trees, making the branches creak and groan in response. The rider's viper eyes glanced about as if trying to discern what may be hiding in the trees and bushes. Then coming to a bridge, the rider stopped his horse when he saw three individuals standing in front of the bridge. All three men were armed, one with a sword, the second with an axe and the third with a bow. Each of the men wore leather armour and the one with the sword wore a helmet on his head. The three men readied their weapons and the one with the axe called out to the rider.
"Halt!" he shouted. "This 'ere is our bridge, you gotta pay a toll to cross!" he declared with a sneer.
"And if I refuse?" asked the rider.
"Then we'll hang your guts on the trees as an offering to the gods!" spat the archer, drawing an arrow and nocking to his bow.
"And what if I don't have any money?" said the rider.
"Well, then we 'ave a little problem then, don't we?" said the swordsman.
The rider grimaced a little before sighing and dismounted his horse. Looking at his saddlebags, the rider pulled out a sword. The sword did not look to be any ordinary sword; the blade was dark and smoky and rippled with a thousand folds and the hilt and crossguard were of darker colour and the ends of the guard were fashioned into dragon heads. The pommel was in the shape of a dragon as well bearing its fangs. Studded into the centre of the guard on one side was a gleaming faceted ruby.
The sword caught the eyes of the three men. They gripped their weapons tightly, but there was a look of greed in their eyes.
"Hey, friend, you give us that there sword of yours, and we'll let you pass!" the swordsman offered.
"And if I refuse?" asked the rider as he held his sword in a low stance.
"Then we'll take it from your corpse!" said the axeman holding his weapon ready.
The rider hummed before lowering his hood, revealing his features. Upon seeing the man's eyes, a look of fear passed over the three men and one of them spoke a word as though it were vile poison.
"Witcher!"
The Witcher gave a brief smile and said to the them, "Draco of Maribor. Wolf School," he introduced himself. "So now that we've established that, what was it about a toll to cross the bridge?" he asked conversationally.
"We should let 'im pass!" whispered the axeman. "Plowing freak could kills us all without breaking a sweat!" he said fearfully.
"There's only one of him!" spat the swordsman. "He can't be that good with a sword anyway!" he then said.
"Yeah, I'll stick an arrer in his gob 'fore he even gets close!" boasted the archer.
"No, I'm getting outta 'ere! You'll get yerselves killed fighting a mutant like 'im!" said the axeman, throwing down his axe and running out.
"Oi! Git back 'ere! Coward!" yelled the swordsman at his fleeing comrade.
The Witcher then said, "Seems you're down a man," he remarked. "You're welcome to flee if you'd like, and perhaps rethink your career," he suggested.
"Smug bastard!" the archer snarled before pulling back his bowstring and fired the arrow nocked to the string. With a sharp twang and hiss, the arrow soared towards the Witcher who easily and almost apathetically slapped the missile out of the air with the blade of his sword. The arrow clattered to the ground harmlessly.
"Wh-what?! Now fucking way!" spluttered the archer as he fumbled for another arrow. The swordsman growled as he stepped towards the Witcher who stood unmoving. The archer fired another arrow at the Witcher who once again slapped the arrow out of the air with his sword. By then, the swordsman had closed the distance and swung his sword in both hands in a downward strike. The Witcher shoved the man back with a kick, causing the man to stumble backwards and fall flat on his arse to the ground. The swordsman grunted in pain and clutched his bruised chest. The archer fired another arrow at the Witcher who simply sidestepped the missile before thrusting his offhand out in a strange gesture. A flash of light and ripple of blue tinted air shot out from the Witcher's hand and knocked the archer to the ground and making his bow fly out of his hands. The swordsman had gotten back onto his feet and tried to charge at the Witcher who thrust his sword towards the man who barely managed to stop in time. The tip of the sword was hovering just mere millimetres from the man's throat. The swordsman's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he nervously swallowed a lump in his throat. The Witcher narrowed his viper eyes before lowering his sword and the swordsman sighed in relief but a quick punch to his temple from the Witcher knocked him out cold. The Witcher then looked at the archer who looked at him fearfully.
"Please, kind sir! Do-Don't kill me!" the archer begged, sweat pouring down his brow.
The Witcher hummed softly before saying, "I won't." he said. "But I cross paths with you and your friends again, I will kill you," he added. "Now take your friend and leave, before I change my mind," he ordered.
"Yessir! Right away!" The archer scrambled to his feet and began to pull his unconscious comrade away. The Witcher watched them before going back to his horse and stroked the mare's nose gently. The mare looked at him with calm brown eyes and snorted softly.
"Should I have killed them?" the Witcher asked the mare who whickered and pawed the ground with one hoof. "No sense in killing those who don't have much, and they didn't look to have much either way," the Witcher said. The mare gave another snort and shook its head, its mane of hair flying about as it did so.
"Perhaps," the Witcher said, nodding his head slightly. "But maybe now, they'll think twice about being bandits," he added.
The mare gave a short neigh and pawed the ground again. "And you would know, would you?" the Witcher said in amusement. "Well, I can sense I'm not going to win this argument, so let's just get out of here and head for the next village," he added and the mare nodded its head in agreement. Mounting the horse, the Witcher clicked his tongue and the mare then trotted along the bridge, leaving it behind. As the clouds began to spit droplets of rain down onto the earth, the Witcher pulled his hood back over his head and sheathed his sword back into the saddlebags.
…
As the sky began to darken, the rain grew heavier, but sure enough the Witcher and his horse soon reached a village. The torches of the village walls flickered in the darkening atmosphere, hissing slightly as drops of rain hit the burning heads of the torches. Some of the villagers were already heading to their homes or the local inn after a hard day in the fields. Some of the villagers noted the new arrival and while some of them watched him warily, they paid him no mind.
Reaching the inn, the Witcher dismounted his horse and tied the reins to the hitching post and dug out an apple from the saddlebags and held it up to the mare' mouth. The mare plucked the apple from the Witcher's hand and munched on it, making noises of pleasure as it did so. Entering the inn, the Witcher was greeted with the warmth the inn provided as a fire crackled in the large hearth and the chatter of the locals filled the room as they drank away the toils of the day. The Witcher walked up to the bar, and dug out an oren from his satchel and placed it on the bench. "A pint of stout, if you have any," he said. The barkeep swept up the coin into his palm before pulling out a jug and sloshed some deep drown liquid into a pint and placed the pint in front of the Witcher. The Witcher took the pint and took a deep draught of the drink. Sighing to himself and wiping his mouth with one hand, the Witcher relaxed slightly and glanced around cautiously.
The barkeep then spoke, "Excuse me, sir, but am I right in thinking you're a Stoneman?" he asked nervously.
"A Witcher? Yes, what of it?" the Witcher replied looking at the barkeep who quailed slightly under the amber gaze.
"I don't have nothing against your kind! A witcher saved me life from a nest of nekkers once! Didn't ask for any coin, nor invoke the Law of Surprise," the barkeep said.
"Wasn't a very good witcher then," the Witcher said. "Witchers don't work for free," he added stoically.
"I know people say Witchers don't have a heart, but I know this one did," said the barkeep.
"There a reason you're talking to me?" the Witcher then asked.
"Well, I was just curious, is all," replied the barkeep wringing his hands a little. "There's been some trouble hereabouts," he said.
"What kind of trouble?" asked the Witcher as he took another pull of his pint.
"Well, we got a nest of monsters not far from 'ere," replied the barkeep. "And further up from here, a local lord has put out a contract for a spook plaguing his lands," he said.
"What nest of monsters are we talking about?" the Witcher asked.
"Dunno. Have to ask the ealdorman who put up the contract," said the barkeep. "His house ain't far from here. He'd tell ye more about it," he added.
"And what about this spook plaguing the lord's lands?" the Witcher then asked.
"Haven't heard much, but one thing I did hear were that it were some sort of headless ghost, taking off folk's heads," replied the barkeep.
"A headless ghost?" said the Witcher in interest. "Interesting," he muttered. Finishing off his pint, the Witcher said, "I'll see what I can do about this monster nest, then I'll go see about this headless spook."
"Many thanks, Witcher," replied the barkeep.
"You can thank me later when I take care of this monster nest," replied the Witcher as he left the inn and headed for the ealdorman's house.
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: There! After a year or more of waiting, I finally updated this story. I apologise this chapter was so short, but at least I got something out, didn't I? So this chapter, Life on the Path could be separated into different parts in between other chapters/arcs as Draco of Maribor/Witcher!Aegon dealing with life on the Path as a Witcher. Bits of Draco/Aegon's childhood will be in short segments in dialogue of characters asking about Draco's life growing up at Kaer Morhen to give everyone an idea of what kind of person Draco/Aegon is and his life with Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri, Triss and all the rest.
So the next chapter will be the start of the Headless Ghost arc. Still trying to come up with a name for that arc, so if anyone has any suggestions, I'll gladly take them. And if you're curious about why I've chosen a headless ghost, well the arc takes inspiration from the classic American folklore tale, The Headless Horseman/Sleep Hollow. Given that the Witcher novels/short stories were deconstructions of classic fairy tales, I thought Sleep Hollow would be a fitting one to use.
Other than that, I haven't got much more to say, so I'll just leave this here and I'll see you all next time.
Be kind to one another,
Angry lil' elf.