The Witcher: Through the Worlds
Chapter 22: Broken Flowers
Narrator: In their search for Ciri, Dominik and Geralt discovered the young woman had gone to the free city of Novigrad. After arriving and seeking help from their old friend Triss Merigold, she directed the two Witchers to Corinne Tilly an Oneiromancer, an expert on finding the lost and the missing. After rescuing the dreamer, she agreed to help the two find Ciri, through Dominik's dreams. After performing the ritual, Dominik had a dream, in it, Ciri and I, the bard Dandelion had been reunited. Dominik and Geralt both knew now that to find the young woman, they'd first need to find their dear old friend.
"I actually HEARD her voice Geralt can you believe it," he said excitedly, as they weaved around the crowds of people.
Right away after leaving the dreamers room, he had gotten right to telling the older Witcher what he had seen in the dreams. Geralt seemed to be almost as excited as he, although he was obviously more reserved. They had set out for the Rosemary and Thyme right afterwards, the day still early. The sun was high, and the heat was intense, finally giving the two Witchers a break from the rain. He had seen Dandelion and Zoltan both of course the month before, however he had no idea that the bard inherited an inn, let alone a brothel.
He had always been fond of the bard growing up, as well as Zoltan. It was something that he secretly loved doing back in Cintra, going to the inns and taverns, simply listening to the music being played. His younger sister and father also never had any interest, but he would often go to the theater plays, and watch the shows with his mother, something he was always fond of. It was something that always brought his mother and he together, so when he met the famous poet Dandelion later in life, he was naturally nervous.
Despite his like for the theater, Dandelion's ballads, poems and other songs, he had never given the bard permission to write any about him. It was a topic the poet always brought up whenever he saw him. After the initial massacre at Cintra, the bard had wrote about how Geralt escaped the flames with two children, one being the Lion Cub of Cintra, and the other being the son of its greatest knight. The poet quickly put a stop to singing about Ciri and he after he was attacked for information about the two of them.
However in recent years, in what he assumed was the poets efforts to help him feel better, offered to write songs about all the contracts and quests he had been on. Every time he refused the bard, on the basis that if Dominik ever did find Ciri, or one of the songs lyrics even indicated he was looking for her, it could put her at even more danger. It could have hindered his search for her, and he didn't want that possible danger for her. However, he did promise the bard, that should he ever find Ciri, and she was safe, he could write as many ballads as he wanted.
Geralt smirked at him from under his hood, "Happy for you, really. Gotta find Dandelion first though, from what you described, looks like he must be in trouble again."
He smiled, but rolled his eyes, "I wanna say he probably just stuck something where he wasn't supposed to but… why the hell would he be blowing something up in the sewers?"
The older Witcher shrugged, "No idea, actually haven't seen him in a while. What did you come see him for a month ago?"
"Just happened to be near Oxenfurt, killed some drowners for a few villagers nearby," He said, his boots sloshing through the mud as they approached the large inn, "Figured I'd see if he was around. I normally ask him if he'd heard anything that might've led me to Ciri. If only I had stayed a few more days…."
The thought that he had been a mere few days behind her had sent him into a frenzy. He was eager to get going at the time, as he normally was when he neared Nilfgaardean lands. If he had only maned up, been willing to spend a few more days camped near the black ones… he could have found her, helped her with whatever it was she had been in such a rush to finish.
Geralt shook his head, as the two stopped just outside the fence of the large inn. A sign hanging on the outside read 'The Rosemary and Thyme', the place their favorite poet had apparently inherited from a will. He was surprised to see however, that the inn looked worse for wear, at least on the outside, a drunken groggy man was sitting on the wooden porch, a bottle in his hand. Multiple old sacks, tables and barrels were outside. It looked more like the local poor house then an inn Dandelion would be operating.
"Can't think about that now, good part is we're probably not that far behind her," Geralt told him reassuringly.
No use living in the past, he could only move forward, and Geralt was right.
"You're right," He said with a smile, turning to the building and walking towards the door, "Gotta say place looks… a little worse for wear I wonder-."
"AND NEVER COME BACK, ye stinking scadges!"
Just before the two Witchers could reach to open the door to the inn, it was flung open. Quickly, the two of them both stepped to the side as two men were both tossed to the ground outside.
"Next time you come back I'll rip your fucking legs off and shove them so far up your ass you'll have toes for teeth," The deep dwarven voice of Zoltan Chivay rang through the yard.
He felt himself scoff out a smile as the men smartly ran away, before the door slammed shut. Geralt looked over to him, and he could see the older Witcher smirking similarly to him.
"Zoltan's in rare form," He said to Geralt with a smile.
The older Witcher scoffed and shook his head, "You kidding? This is perfectly normal form."
He laughed along with Geralt as the turned to enter the inn. On the inside it seemed just as worst for wear as it did on the outside. Sacks, barrels, shelves tables, all were strewn about the main floor. Barrels were filled with wine, beer and mead, while tankards and mugs were all over the floors and tables. Sleeping bags, and other cots seemed to have been laid out, and it truly looked like the place the local drunkards and beggars would come to sleep.
Zoltan Chivay, however, was all smiles when he saw the two Witchers come inside. Growing up with Geralt he had met the dwarf along with Dandelion when he was young. The louder dwarf had scared him at first, but he later realized you would be hard pressed to find a friend as loyal as Zoltan. He knew Geralt and the dwarf had gone back far, fighting together on multiple occasions, even as recently as six months prior when Geralt had lost his memory. Normally Zoltan traveled alongside Dandelion, but there were a few times in his travels when he saw the dwarf and the two would end up severely drunk that night. The dwarf was also fond of Ciri when they were younger as well, so he would help him, give him bits of leads when he could, or deliver him the bad news he hadn't seen anything.
However, no matter the new he'd seeing Zoltan Chivay always put a smile on the young Witchers face.
"Ahhhhh! Geraaaaalt, Dominik back together again! Warms me heart it does," The dwarf said with a smile, coming out from behind the bar counter.
"Zoltan, with your boot up someone's ass as always," Geralt said with a smile.
"Only been a month, and now you and Dandelion got yourselves a fucking brothel, why am I not surprised," Dominik said, smiling down at the dwarf.
Zoltan let out a hardy laugh and met their eyes, "Lots changed in the last month lad, you especially. That though, that's the local color. I wasn't gone more then a moment! It was enough though for this rabble to turn our home into theirs!"
He barely had time to laugh with Geralt when more footsteps could be heard. The two Witchers shot around and as was a normal occurrence they were surrounded. Five more of the men who had apparently been staying at the inn while Zoltan had been gone surrounded them. None of them seemed to be particularly happy, and cracked their knuckles, obviously preparing for a fight.
Zoltan however cracked his even louder, looking back up at the two of them, "About to do some spring cleaning, care to join me?"
"With pleasure," Geralt said with a smile from next to him.
He smirked down at the dwarf and eyed the two men closest to him, "Gotta keep the place clean now."
The first man ran at him and went to throw a hook with his right hand, he moved his head to the side, pushing the mans hand away and quickly delivering a punch to his gut. The man keeled over, just in the range of Zoltan. He himself moved onto the next man, who didn't swing as wildly as the first. He moved his head, dodging jabs, before grabbing the mans arm as he went for a hook and spinning him against a wall. He barely had time to admire his work, before a man coming from the upstairs floor leapt at him from behind. The man wrapped his arms around Dom's throat, choking him. Acting quickly, he moved backwards and slammed the man up against the wall, but the man didn't release him, his grip like iron. The first man he had thrown against the wall came trying to wallop him again but seeing this he kicked his leg up into the mans gut. He reared over, and the young Witcher threw his head backwards, smacking it into the man grappling him from behind.
Finally the mans grip on his neck broke, and he took the chance to grab him, and throw him into the man he had kicked. He rushed over and kicked into the abdomen of both men, and they quickly scurried up and out the door. He looked over to see how Zoltan and Geralt were both faring and couldn't help but laugh. Geralt had one man locked by the head with one arm, as he threw an elbow, knocking back another man, before throwing his grappled man towards the door. Zoltan was down next to him, dragging a man on the ground in a head lock towards the door.
He felt himself laugh as the dwarf threw the man forward out the door, before slamming it shut. His back slightly ached, but he felt the rush of adrenaline running through his body. For so long he had felt grim, alone, like at times he was the only one in the world fighting. However, within the last few weeks he had reunited with old friends, discovered his two adoptive parents were alive, and Ciri were all within his reach. Geralt and he still had multiple quests to complete, puzzles to put together, he didn't expect to be happy during much of the time he was looking, expecting only to be happy when he finally found Ciri. While finding her would be what makes him truly happy, what he'd been working and yearning towards for years of his life, he also knew that he could enjoy moments like these with those he also cared about.
Zoltan turned around to the two Witchers again with a smirk and made a gesture of wiping his hands clean.
"Haha! Now that that's over, we can greet each other like the days of yore… Geralt, ages pal," The dwarf said fondly, reaching up to shake Geralt's hand.
He could see the happiness return to Geralt's eyes, "Hey Zoltan, you're looking good. Good to see you again."
Zoltan nodded before turning to Dom and holding out his arms, "HAHA! And I can't forget about you little wolf! Though… not so little anymore."
He felt himself laugh as he reached down to shake Zoltan's hand, "Ha, you realize I just saw you last month, right?"
The dwarf scoffed and looked up at them both with a smile, his arms crossed, "Bah I don't know what you've been eating lad, but you've gotten huge since then! I can see… well you also found Geralt as well," The dwarf said his tone falling a little.
Keeping the smile on his face, he nodded down to the dwarf, "Yeah, him and Yennefer. Still hard to believe, thought they were dead just a few weeks ago."
Zoltan for the first time in Dominik's life appeared nervous. He sighed scratching his beard and looking back up at him, "Dom lad… I wanted to apologize for, ye know not telling you about Geralt when I saw you last. Truth me told I… thought you knew he was alive."
Before he could respond the dwarf quickly turned around to Geralt, "And you Geralt old pal, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the times I've seen the lad."
Geralt shook his head quickly, "No need to apologize. I was still trying to recover my memory, probably wouldn't have remembered anyway."
Nodding in agreement he spoke up to the dwarf as well, "Yeah, no need to apologize. I found Geralt, that's all that matters now. Besides we… we're hear on more important business."
The mood between the three of them shifted as Zoltan smiled back up at the, a relieved look on his face. He knew that once the dwarf learned that they had found a trail of Ciri, that she had returned it would lift his spirits even more. He did slightly begin to worry however, he could see the portraits of Dandelion on the wall of the bottom floor of the inn but had seen no sign of the poet yet.
Zoltan below them sighed and smiled, "Well… good then. The two of you though-seem a bit withered. What's been going on, something worry yous?"
A smile managed to form on his face as he looked down at the dwarf, the news to the day still made him smile.
"Withered is the perfect word to describe it… but that doesn't mean we're stopping anytime soon," He said, looking down to meet the dwarfs eyes, "We're here about Ciri… she's back Zoltan."
Geralt nodded quickly next to him, "And her trail leads to Novigrad, she's either still here or was here recently."
The reaction on Zoltan's face was instant, shock, disbelief, and then finally a scoff before he smiled, "So you mean she's truly back? I'll be damned, wonder if I'll recognize her… how many years, six? Seven?"
"Eight…" Dom informed the dwarf, feeling a cold chill run through his blood, his head falling to the floor.
Zoltan turned to him, and nodded, "Chin up lad! If she's returned, then I know nobody has a better chance of findin her, then you and Geralt, but… what she be doin in Novigrad?"
"Hiding most likely, she's in danger," Geralt informed the dwarf before he could say anything else.
"The Wild Hunt…" He said to the dwarf, and the sun shining from the outside, suddenly seemed to grow cold.
Zoltan sighed deeply and shook his head, "Aye… not good, not good at all. You been on her trail eight years now lad… and now to find her with all this going on."
Quickly, he shook his head to the dwarf, "Don't care, not at all. I'm going to find her, and if the Hunt wants her… they'll have to kill me first."
He didn't know how he would fare in the fight, he could be killed, may not survive, but no matter what, no matter what skills he had or didn't have, he wouldn't stop. Zoltan looked at him and gave a small smile before nodding. The sun was at its apex, signaling midday, and the streets began to become even more flooded. The bells of Novigrad rung, and he wondered what it signaled, and hoped it wasn't another unfortunate mage.
Geralt looked between Zoltan and him, "We gotta find her first, that's priority number 1. We know she came to Novigrad and contacted Dandelion."
The look of optimism on Zoltan's face finally turned to one of nerves, he looked down, stroking the brown of his beard, "Well… we've a wee problem with that."
"Why am I not surprised…" He muttered under his breath, as Geralt turned to look down at the dwarf.
"Where is he? Got him hiding upstairs," Geralt asked him.
Zoltan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms pacing back and forth, "If I did, I'd wring his little neck for answers! I just barely returned as you saw. Expecting to come home to a hot leg o' boar, cold tankard of ale, but what do I find? A shite storm," He said, turning back to face the two Witchers, "Dandelion gone, tavern chock full of bums…. Haven't a clue what happened."
He sighed at the news. It was a given fact to him that the quest to find Ciri wasn't going to be easy. The task was like finding a needle in a haystack. However, he wished that only once the answer could be right in front of them. In Velen, they had to go on quests for the Baron and the Crones before getting any information on where Ciri had gone. After figuring out she had for sure gotten ahold of Dandelion, he foolishly thought that it would be a simple task, finding the bard and learning where the young woman had gone.
However, as Geralt told him before, on the Path, during the life of a Witcher you had to make your own luck. And he knew that he would rather be on his current path, a mountain of obstacles, difficult quests that he needed to complete, that he knew was leading him to Ciri, as opposed to doing what he had been. Wondering aimlessly, trying desperately to pick up any clues. Feeling as if he were chasing a ghost.
She wasn't a ghost anymore, she was real, and out there.
Geralt sighed next to him and looked around the littered ground floor of the tavern, "We better look around, see if he left any clue that may put us on his trail."
"Do you think he may be somewhere in Oxenfurt," Dom asked, turning down to Zoltan.
Gravely the dwarf shook his head, "Aye, hasn't really been there since we last saw ya lad. Radovid's closed down the academy, cities swarming with soldiers… not exactly the best place for me. Besides, he's been spending lots more time here. Probably something that'll put us on a trail aye, start on the ground floor, that's where he sat and wrote."
He nodded alongside Geralt and the three of them all went off to search different parts of the ground floor. The Rosemary and Thyme he assumed would make for a very fine-looking inn if restored. It was a mystery how Dandelion would have come to inherit such an establishment. The poet he knew was the frivolous type, staying and handling and inn, it didn't seem like the type of thing his friend would do. On a normal occasion he would have been more then happy to help both Dandelion and Zoltan renovate the place, giving him a place he always knew he could come rest his head safely.
The ground floor in its current state would certainly need a good cleaning soon, he could tell that much. He didn't find much, only barrels of wine, made from the finest vineyards, along with crumples of old songs and papers in one corner. He knelt down and began un-wrinkling and unwrapping a few of them. Most of them seemed to be nonsense, titles of ballads and songs that Dandelion never finished, or thought not good enough for his very lofty standards. The small writing corner had a very comfortable looking bed roll, and multiple pillows stacked to form a back rest, with empty mugs of wine and other drinks on one side of it. None of the papers seemed to be anything important the more he combed through them.
However, before he got up to rejoin Geralt, he noticed one more piece of parchment unfolded and neatly placed underneath a mug. He removed the cup and saw the parchment had much more words written on it then the drivel that was on the others he saw. A small stain of wine was at the top, but the title of the parchment could be seen when he looked more carefully. When he did finally manage to read the words, he felt his chest begin to thump.
The Ballad of the Young Wolf and the Swallow, By Master Dandelion (Reference Notes)
The story of two incredibly brave young people. A man and a woman, who both survived the tragedy of the massacre of Cintra, with nothing but each other. The two train for years under the famous White Wolf Geralt of Rivia's careful tutelage, their skill in combat, and love for one another ever growing, only for tragedy to strike when they are both separated for much longer then either wish. Eight years later they still search for one another, determine to reunite.
The makings of one of my greatest ballads to date, perhaps surpassing even that of their adoptive parents. I had the pleasure of watching these two brilliant young people during their early years of training, and I have never seen such an inseparable pair. Two young people who perfectly balance off one another, one headstrong, confident and mischievous, the other more reserved, and quiet, but with a fiercely protective side. I've seen them as they grow up become more like the other, the perfect balance of remaining true to themselves and training for the better.
Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon. The Lion Cub of Cintra, the famous child of destiny to Geralt of Rivia. Confident, headstrong, yet also kind, compassionate and caring, with a protectiveness to rival that of Geralt's. She's also as beautiful as she is powerful, with the power of space and time within her. It's little wonder that Dominik cared for her so much, seeing as they grew up together in Cintra. Ciri it's princess, and Dominik the son of the captain of its royal guards. While I have not seen Ciri since that faithful day Geralt and our company made it to Strygga Castle, I know that she is still looking to reunite with Dominik. How do I know? One of the first things she asked after the fighting had ceased at the castle that day, "Where's Dominik, he isn't with you?" The young lad had not been, Geralt and I searched for weeks for him before leaving on our quest, but could not find him, for Dominik's own search for Ciri had led him away, so we were forced to save the girl without him. Still to this day, eight years have passed since they saw one another, but if I know them both, which I would say I do, they are all doing what they can to find each other.
Dominik of Cintra. The son of Gregory, former captain of Queen Calanthe of Cintra's royal guards. I had the pleasure of meeting Gregory when Geralt and I attended the birthday of Princess Pavetta, Ciri's mother in Cintra. The man was all the bit as virtuous, and true a knight as the stories told. His young son Dominik inherited these traits. People do not know much of the Young Wolf, Dominik of Cintra. Nobody knows of the countless people he has saved through contracts over his years, the merchants he's saved on the road, the villages he's freed of a monsters grasp, the endless people he's impacted. That would mainly be due to the young man himself. He has sworn to not have any of his deeds spoken of, talked or sung about (Much to my dismay, but I respect it), until he completes his one true quest. To find his long-lost love Ciri. Never have I met such a headstrong and determined young man. No matter how impossible his task has seemed over the years, he has not wavered, vowing to continue searching till the woman he swore to protect, and later come to love is found.
With Geralt's memory returning, Yennefer now alive, perhaps his search may yet have hope. However, I know no matter what the conditions are, the Young Wolf will not rest until he finds his Swallow.
And once he does, their tale, such a dramatic tale of love, loss and reunion must be told. This task will fall to me, and I shall let neither of them down.
"That bastard…" He said after reading the page, but with a smile forming on his face, "You'll get to write your songs…I promise."
The praise of his close friend raised his optimism. He had no idea the poet thought so highly of him, and hearing what he had to write brought a smile to his face. It was true that he asked the poet not to write any stories or songs about him until he found Ciri, and in a twist of irony, Dandelion had seen her before Dom. However, he knew that just as his friend wasn't going to let him down, he couldn't let him down either. Dandelion had been missing, and he knew what had happened with Ciri. In finding the bard, he would be able to help them both.
"Aye Dominik, over here lad," He heard the voice of Zoltan say from behind him.
He looked over and saw both Geralt and Zoltan both huddled over a book. Smiling, he placed 'The ballad of the Young Wolf and the Swallow' back where he found it and ran over to join them both. Upon arriving between the two of them, he could see that Geralt had found what looked to be a planner. He could see lists, for shipments of wine and other things an inn would need. Zoltan reached and took the book from Geralt, flipping through the pages, before looking up at the two Witchers.
"Seems when Dandelion inherited this fine establishment, it came with a few responsibilities. Bookkeeping among them," The dwarf said, carefully looking at the pages of the planner, "he also made a habit of noting down the times of his meetings-official and private. So who's he been seeing of late…?"
As soon as the dwarf finished his sentence, he felt himself scoff, "Bet most of them are of the female variety."
The dwarf laughed and nodded as he read the pages more carefully, "Seems you're right lad. Only been meetin woman of late! The dog!"
He felt himself laughed but Geralt sighed, "Zoltan, you really want us to go and track down all the woman Dandelion has been wooing? Probably angry women by now?"
"You got any better ideas," Zoltan asked turning around to them, "Besides, Dandelion is a babbler. They've sure to know something of his doings…. Now, we should all split these up somehow…. Ah fuck it."
The dwarf ripped one page off of the planner, and shoved it into his pocket, handing the book back to Geralt, "You two split up the lassies on that half, I'll interrogate the ones on mine."
He sighed as well he did slightly agree with Geralt. The idea of going by and talking to all the woman Dandelion had been trying to date didn't seem all that appealing to him. He knew that the poet had a shaky history with women, so most of them were more than likely not happy with the poet at the moment. Seeing the history Dandelion did have with women growing up, was part of the reason he was so glad he never had eyes for anyone other then Ciri.
He took a look at the names on the page, and right away grabbed the book from Geralt, examining closer.
"Umm Zoltan," he said when he realized what was under the names, "This is all in verse."
He heard the dwarf laugh as he turned back to them both, "And that is a surprise to you because…?"
Geralt sighed alongside him, "Mind helping us find out who some of these women are? You have been with Dandelion more than us."
Upon reading the names, and the verses below them he felt his skin crawl. He had grown up enjoying the arts, music, poetry, and theater in Cintra. His mother would often read him poems before bed, tell his sister and he stories. However, some of the verses he read in the planner at the moment would certainly had made his mother want to cover he and his sisters ears. As uncomfortable as they made him feel, thinking of Dandelion in certain situations, he had to power through it he knew.
He found the 'Molly' and read the verse below it for Zoltan, "Though well she knows the touch of silk and lace… she shuns not straw when gripped in lust's embrace…. Gods my mother would wash my mouth out if she saw me reading that."
Zoltan let out a hardy laugh from below them, "Haha, aye lad get used to it. That'd be Molly, she keeps things tidy for the baroness La Valette."
The name La Valette sounded familiar to him, so he turned to Geralt, "La Valette… why does that ring a bell?"
Geralt turned his yellow eyes to him, "Probably thinking of the siege of La Valette Castle I told you about. I fought their with Foltest when I lost my memory. Fought on opposite sides of the Baronesses son, Aryan."
"That's right I remember now," he said, remembering the tale Geralt had told him, "Want me to head there then?"
Right away the older Witcher shook his head, "No, don't think that's a good idea. She's got Nilfgaardean connections now. Besides I spared Aryan, don't think she'll wanna kill me."
He nodded to confirm, and looked down more of the list to the next one, "And… what about this Vespula?"
Geralt and Zoltan winced at the same time, before Geralt shook his head, "Isn't she the one who threw his knickers out the window?"
Zoltan tossed his head back and laughed, "HA, that'd be the one."
"And she shouted something about his voice being like a consumptive pheasant," Geralt asked again.
"That's her," Zoltan said with a smirk.
He looked over in shock at Geralt again as he spoke, "And didn't she throw flowerpots at him," The older Witcher asked.
Zoltan once again nodded and Geralt turned to meet Dom's eyes, "Hit me with one of them too… you better go see her, she's a washerwoman right outside town."
"Understand," He said, nodding to his adoptive father right away.
Geralt nodded to him and then went down the list again, "A figure most rare, her nature dual. Look deep in her eyes or be made a fool…. Seems awfully fascinated with this one."
Zoltan nodded deeply a small smile on his face, "Err, not without reason…. Never been one for elven women myself, but this one's exceptional. Dare say Francesca Findabair'd herself be jealous. Word is she owns a tailoring shop outside town."
He saw the opportunity and turned to Geralt, "Vespula is already outside of town too, want me to go get her as well?"
A small smirk formed on Geralt's face, "Sure you can handle such a supposedly beautiful woman?"
He heard Zoltan laugh as he himself rolled his eyes, "She's just a person Geralt."
The older Witcher kept smirking at him, "Last time I let you go see a beautiful woman by yourself, she knocked you out with a spell after you refused to have sex with her."
"Shut up," he hissed quickly, ripping the book from the older Witcher's hands as both Geralt and Zoltan laughed at his expense.
He rolled his eyes at them both as they laughed, but felt his face get red. Scanning down the list of names, he came across one right above Elihal. Finally after the two of them had stopped laughing at him, they both looked back as he began to read again.
"Like a rose abashed of its crimson hue, fair Rosa would sink into humors blue. She shunned her lessons in civility, to swing her Dwarf with agility… Dandelion… and a dwarf," He said in confusion, looking up at Zoltan.
Zoltan laughed and looked over at him, "Heheh, Dwarf is what Rosa var Attre named her gwhyr. Well chosen, isn't it?"
"Terribly clever," Geralt said, both their eyes turning to him, "Why does the last name var Attre sound familiar?"
"Her da's a Nilfgaardean aristocrat in the imperial legation. Commissioned Dandelion to tutor Rosa and her sister in the art of rhetoric, but wee Rosa always preferred swordplay," Zoltan started with a smirk, "Week on week we get fresh gossip about her thrashing another instructor so bad he resigns…. Word is her father is now in the hunt for her next victim-. Sorry, I mean instructor."
After hearing a description of this particular woman he turned right away to Geralt. He remembered now where he heard the name Var Attre. He was one of the men at the royal palace at Vizima when Geralt and he had been summoned. The idea of traveling to the house of a Nilfgaardean noble didn't sit well with him. It was the last thing he wanted to do during this quest.
Geralt nodded to him, "No way I'm sending you to a Nilfgaardean aristocrats house. Seems like Molly, Rosa and this Marabella are all in the city, I'll go talk to them. You go talk to the ones outside."
"Vespula, and Elihal, got it," He said, nodding in confirmation.
"Aye we're all ready then," Zoltan said, as the two of them turned to him, "I'm gonna stay here and do a wee bit of tidying up before I head out, meet back here when we're all done."
A smile crossed his face as he nodded. He hoped that in the future if he ever went missing that his friends wouldn't need to track down a list of ex-lovers to find him. However, he didn't complain, Dandelion was a close friend of his. Through the years of him traveling alone, he had always been able to count on the poet whenever he needed anything. Whether it was a few extra crowns for an ale or supplies when he saw him. To simply talk to someone about his search, or about what he had been going through. He was always able to count on Dandelion, and now if he needed his help, he would be there to help him.
He smiled at both Geralt and Zoltan before nodding, "Alright I'll head out now, Vespula and Elihal. I'll see the two of you when I get back."
Zoltan nodded but he could see Geralt smirk, "Good luck… remember to be careful. And try to avoid pissing any of them off. Wouldn't want to come find you knocked out by a spell on the side of the road."
He rolled his eyes at the older Witcher, "You ever gonna let this go?"
Geralt and Zoltan both laughed, before he rolled his eyes and turned for the door. He rolled his eyes yes, but a small smile crossed his face as he exited the inn. He had more friends at his side now. Soon he would have more.
And they would all help him find Ciri.
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The outskirts of Novigrad, Gildorf among other small settlements was bustling with activity. He could feel the sweat starting to beat down his neck as the sun was slowly moving past the midday point. Slums outside the city was home to many more elves, halflings and dwarves then inside the city. He assumed that they had been forced out by the guards, and it only made his anger rise. It wasn't illegal for them to live in the city he was sure, however he assumed the guards may have 'encouraged' them to leave. He shook his head in disgust as he past peasants trying to argue with guards to bring goods into the city, people sleeping out in tents, or bed rolls on the ground. The grounds weren't as crowded as the city, so finding Vespula wouldn't be too hard.
His armor and sword clunked along as he walked down the road, getting looks from peasant and beggars as he went. Seeing all the people, refugees, reminded him of he and Ciri's time on the run after Cintra. A few days after they had ran, sleeping on the ground, huddled together from the cold, they had come across a camp of Cintrean refugees. One group in a tent had taken them in, and for a night they were able to sleep on a cot together, and actually eat something other then tree bark and old nuts. It seemed like their luck had finally changed, until the Nilfgaardeans found the camp, and slaughtered everyone during the night. He remembered hearing the screams, the clashes of steel, he had grabbed Ciri's arm and the two of them ran, unable to defend themselves. After almost a month of situations like this, when they got to Kaer Morhen, they promised that they would never be helpless again.
The two of them were certainly far from helpless now. Either one of them would have been able to save the camp of refugees that day, or at least been able to help more escape. Cintra was a Nilfgaardean province now, and he even learned that the infamous Knight with the Winged Helmet, was a man named Cahir. This Cahir had helped Geralt search for Ciri, intent on rescuing the girl, but was killed in their assault on Strygga Castle, by the bounty hunter who had tortured and imprisoned Ciri, Leo Bonhart. As he learned more about what had happened in the last eight years, and the six years since he separated from Geralt… the more he regretted it. If he had been at Strygga Castle, traveled with Geralt to find Ciri, seen her before Rivia… perhaps things would have turned out differently.
But he had decided to be a petulant child then, and people he cared about were injured, or had died. He never got a chance to meet Cahir again, and it was probably for the best. If he had met the man, he was more then sure he would have killed him. Geralt had told him that Cahir had told him, the reason he wanted to come and rescue Ciri was because the knight had fallen in love with her, and wanted to make things right by traveling to save her. The knight in the winged helmet, the man who had chased him and Ciri through the burning streets of Cintra... had fallen in love with Ciri, and suddenly had a change of heart. Even if the knight had trily wanted to make up for his mistakes and try to rescue her... he had still killed Bella and his mother. Not to mention the fact he had apparently fallen in love with Ciri, who was a child over the years. No, if he had met Cahir, he would have killed him. Despite Geralt's assurances in the end the knight had done everything he could to help him... he was still responsible for his family being dead.
He also never got the chance to fight Leo Bonhart, the man who had imprisoned, tortured and beat Ciri for years in his arena, or thank the other members of the company Geralt had with him to rescue her.
However, he had the opportunity to make it all right now, and he wouldn't live in the past.
He passed a sign as he walked that said laundry, with he name Vespula underneath the words, so he knew he had found the right place. Moving past the lines of laundry that were hung, he went over to the yard outside where the main house was.
"No more fucking excuses, it's simple, you pay, you get protected, you don't, and bad things happen," A deep voice ripped through the air.
He looked up to see three large armed men, one larger one carrying an axe at his side, while the other two held swords. They were wearing what seemed to be clown masks, with tattoos all over their exposed bodies. One man stood in-front of a terrified woman. The woman he was almost sure was Vespula, she looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. She was wearing a green dress, with her brown hair tied up into an intricate bun. Her eyes were full of terror and she tried to put her hands up to defend herself.
"Tell Whoreson, I'll have his payment next week, I swear it. I just don't have it right now," She pleaded, trying to take a step back.
The clown man laughed and took a step towards the woman again, "Whoreson doesn't want promises. Whoreson is a reasonable man! You pay on time, you get protection… if not…"
The thug reared his hand back and smacked the woman across the face, and she wailed, falling back to the ground. He saw the situation escalate and started running towards them.
"Help, please help me," Vespula screamed as the clown man advanced again.
The clown man laughed and kicked the woman's stomach, "Who the fuck you thinks going to help you? Some knight in shining armor?"
"Not a knight," He said, finally getting to the scene, and standing in-front of the defenseless woman, "But Vespula here has some new protection."
The woman smiled at him, but quickly scurried away behind the wall of the nearby home. He could see the leader of the clown men take a step towards him, "HA, and who the fuck would that be?"
He kept his arms crossed, and didn't flinch as the man stepped closer, his two friends coming up behind their boss. He felt his fingers twitch and began to form plan of attack in his head if things did indeed get violent, which he was almost sure it would. Men like this couldn't be reasoned with, and more often then not they were far too eager to throw themselves in front of a blade for their leaders. Normally he liked to try and talk his way out of situations like these, however too much was at stake now, information on Dandelion and in turn Ciri.
He looked and me the mans eyes behind the clown mask, "Me. Now, I'm gonna give you one chance. You can leave now, and never bother this woman again. Or, you can stay and continue your tough guy acts. We'll probably fight, and I'll kill you. You have till the count of three."
One man he saw, slowly started to creep behind him as the clown man laughed, the large one with the axe laughing behind him.
"HAHA, hear that boys, little man here thinks he's her protection," He laughed, his two friends joining in.
"1…2…" He slowly started counting.
"He thinks he can scare us off, let's see how good this protection is," The one in front of him said, finally drawing his blade.
"3…" he said, finally uncrossing his arms and spreading his legs.
The leader of the group came at him first from the front. He didn't have the room, or the time to draw his blade, so when the man went to swing from his right, he side-stepped, grabbing the mans arm and throwing him into the one who had taken a position behind him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. He shot back around to see the larger one with the axe coming his way, the big brute swung downwards, quickly he side-stepped pulling the silver dagger he carried from his belt and jabbing it upwards into the mans underarm. The much larger man wailed, but quickly he pulled his dagger out, stepping to the side, he managed to bring the blade upwards and slice it across the large mans throat. Blood splattered from his throat over the laundry that the woman had been cleaning, and over his two friends who had just gotten up off the ground.
One came charging first at him, he stepped to the right and knocked his arm aside, causing the strike to miss him. The second came charging again, swinging his blade horizontally, but he managed to duck down below the strike, getting behind the man, piercing his dagger into the clowns back, before quickly retracting it, spinning around to his front and slashing across his neck. He knew the last man was charging him from behind, he turned just in time to catch the mans blade on the hilt of his dagger, keeping their weapons locked. Swiftly he removed his dagger, spun to the right and jabbed his smaller blade into the mans neck before he could react.
Taking a deep breath to recompose himself, he looked out and saw all three of the clown bandits lay on the ground, dead, blood flowing from their wounds. Carefully and with a sigh be slipped the dagger back into its sheath in his belt.
"I hate it when they're stupid like this," He muttered as he heard a woman's cry behind him.
"Covered in blood, all of it! So much work-for naught," Vespula complained, looking down at some of her blood-soaked sheets.
He felt his eyes roll as he turned to the woman, "Gee, you're welcome, glad I could help."
The woman sighed and turned to him, meeting his eyes and suddenly not seeming so upset. She laughed lightly and forced a smile, "Ha… I'm sorry. I truly am grateful for your aid. To… what do I owe this visit, you spoke my name, but I don't have the pleasure of knowing yours?"
He felt the arms on his hair stand up at the woman's gaze, but still gave a small head bow, "Dominik of Cintra, Witcher. I'm a… friend of Dandelion's. Wanted to see if you knew where he was."
The sultry look the woman had on her face suddenly turned sour, "So you… you're the Young Wolf?"
Again he felt himself sigh, "So it was him who started that… fuck. Yes, that's me. I need to find him, it's important. Do you have any idea where he is?"
The woman rolled her eyes, her hands going to her hips, "Probably out whorin! The lying scoundrel."
He felt himself sigh, wondering how it came to this, "Alright… what did he do this time?"
Vespula scoffed and shook her head, "Same thing as every time! Prize bullshitter that one is! Come's back spewing about till death do us part and everything."
"For fucks sake Dandelion…" He muttered between the woman's ramblings.
The brown-haired woman's arms crossed as she shook her head, "He comes back with all this, and not two weeks later I see him strolling harbor side with some trollip on his arm! That was the last straw, I beat him black and blue and threw him out on his ear!"
He didn't expect to get any useful information out of the woman, but her last sentence caught his attention as he met the woman's eyes.
"Who was he with at harborside…" he questioned the woman, his tone growing lower.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Claims it was his niece from Kovir. More like whore-vir if you ask me!"
He saw the woman was about to say more but he cut her off, "What did she look like?"
Vespula finally saw her chance to ramble more and laughed, "HA, corset so tight her eyes were popping out of her head. Blonde hair, about yay tall. His eyes were popping out his head looking at her, an artist and a whore, one in the same!"
"Dammit…" he muttered low enough for the woman not to hear.
It was his hope that the woman she saw Dandelion with was Ciri. However he knew what she looked like by heart, and he knew it wasn't her Dandelion was with. Besides, he also knew that Ciri wouldn't be showing her face that publicly. He sighed again, shaking his head at the foolish hope before giving Vespula another nod.
"That's all I need, thank you for your help," He said, walking off before the woman could begin rambling more.
He sighed in disappointment, the only information he had gotten was that Dandelion had been spotted with a blonde woman from Kovir in harborside, not much to go on. The woman could even be one of the ones on Zoltan's list of names. He hoped Geralt was having more luck then he was, as he walked further away from the cities gates. Elihal was his next visit, and according to Zoltan her tailor shop was close by. Apparently, she would make the most beautiful woman in the world get jealous.
He didn't care much what the woman looked like, only that she would be able to help him find his friend.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
The tailors shop seemed to stand out like a sore thumb in the poorer district of the Novigrad outskirts. It was neatly kept, with the front porch swept, multiple doublets on stands outside. He took a moment to examine the handiwork and it was top notch quality. It reminded him of something his parents would stuff him into before he went to attend balls with them to see Ciri in Cintra. It was a mystery how someone living on the outskirts of Novigrad could afford such high-quality goods, however he knew those details were irrelevant now.
Carefully he stepped through the door and could see more find silks and fabrics. A sewing table was in one corner, and racks of clothes were all strewn about. To his right was someone's bedroom, the shop was relatively small, but more then likely nicer then anything the people on the outskirts had seen. A male elf was leaning against the machine wearing an elegant blue doublet, his hair slicked back into a ponytail.
"Ah a customer, welcome, welcome please come in," He said invitingly as he closed the door behind him.
He gave the man a small nod, "Dominik of Cintra, I'm a friend of Dandelion's. I'm looking for Elihal?"
The man gave a fascinated smile as he met Dom's eyes, "Ahh, so you're the Young Wolf. Dandelion told me about you. So, what is it I can do for you? Patch a whole in your trousers, a new doublet?"
His eyes narrowed and he felt his mouth go dry, as a mixture of annoyance and curiosity came to him, "Yes… that's me, and my nickname apparently…. You're Elihal?"
The elf gave a small laughed a nodded, "Ha, of course I am. Now pick your jaw up off the floor."
He shook his head to recompose himself, "Sorry it's just I… I thought you were… one of Dandelion's girlfriends."
A look of realization dawn on the elf's face as he nodded understandingly, "Ahhh I see. Please, just wait here one moment."
A hundred thoughts raced through his head in those next few minutes. How he would never speak of the situation to anyone ever again, not even Ciri when he found her, not to Yen, Triss, and certainly not Geralt. The last thing he needed was to give the Witcher another thing to tease him about. Then came a mixture of embarrassment and feeling uncomfortable thinking why Dandelion wrote such suggestive poetry. When Elihal finally emerged from his room, he was wearing a long blue dress with red heels, and had makeup adorned on his face. He had dressed like a woman.
He never judged someone's hobbies, but the embarrassment and amount of discomfort he felt after having read Dandelion's poems about the man in front of him, made his blood rush through his body, and his face go red.
"Any better," Elihal asked with his hands on his hips.
Again he felt his mouth go dry, "So… you… you're…"
"Elihal, yes," The elf confirmed.
He swallow and met the elf's eyes, "So… you and Dandelion… you both…. I mean how'd you meet?"
Elihal scoffed and shook his head, but a smirk was still on his face, "I met him in a tavern one night, he was blind drunk."
"I… I don't think I wanna know what happened next."
Again the elf rolled his eyes, "Oh please. He wasn't so drunk as to not notice. Besides, I'm not interested in men anyhow. Dandelion is an open minded fellow, we had a lovely chat and he became a loyal customer afterwards."
Upon hearing Dandelion's name he was able to snap himself out of his state and remember the task at hand. He nodded and met the elf's eyes again, "Do you remember when you saw him last?"
"Some time ago," The elf started, "He brought in one of Zoltan's jerkins, insisted I sew on an extra pocket. Strange… I got the impression he actually had come to talk."
Sighing he nodded his head in understanding, "What about when the two of you talked? Obviously, he mentioned me, which I've been asking him not to do… but did he mention anything else?"
The elf stroked his chin, thinking for a moment before turning back to him, "Well to be honest we had a very normal chat. He did speak about you, very highly of you I might add. But… other then that, he did keep mentioning Kalkstein. If we hadn't laid out cards out on the table at the start, I'd think Dandelion had a history with the alchemist, spoke like a lovesick beau."
The name Kalkstein rang in his ears as familiar, he looked and met the elf's eyes again, "Yeah… think I remember who that is. He's a friend of Geralt's, could I talk to him myself? Maybe see why Dandelion was so interested?"
The elf tsked and shook his head, "I'm afraid that's quite impossible. Witch Hunters nabbed him, burned him in the square. My oh my though it was a spectacle. Fiery beasts circled his pyre as he burned, and finally sprouted out to form letters."
"What did the letter say," he asked out of curiosity.
Elihal smirked, "Radovid sucks flaccid cock."
He managed to let a laugh escape his mouth before looking to the elf again, "Thank you for your helped… and um… nice to meet you."
The man smiled again and nodded, "A pleasure young man. If you ever need a hole sewn or a new doublet, you know where to find me."
He nodded and quickly turned to leave the tailors shop. After exiting he let out a large sigh and felt himself shudder. After consulting with the two on his list, he hadn't learned much about Dandelion's location. All he knew was that the poet was looking for the alchemist Kalkstein, and that he had been spotted with a blonde Kovir woman. He knew that Dandelion had been helping Ciri, so he tried to piece together what Ciri may have needed for the poet to act like he had been.
He knew the two of them had broken into something down in the sewers, and that Ciri was trying to move fast. Could Dandelion had been trying to contact Kalkstein to help with whatever job he and Ciri needed? It was all unclear at the moment and he hoped that Geralt and Zoltan would be able to tell him more.
Some contracts were a puzzle, Geralt had always told him. A good Witcher examined all aspects, all the clues, and could put them together to solve what had been going on and formulate a plan to solve it. Finding Dandelion wasn't a contract, it was much more important. Whatever his friend and Ciri had gotten into, it was going to be up to him and Geralt to solve the puzzle and bring them back safely.
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When he finally arrived back at the Rosemary and Thyme, the sun was slowly beginning its descent. He also realized how efficient Zoltan was at cleaning and tidying up. When he had left the ground floor had been left a mess. Now, the floors were swept, the extra clutter of barrels and sacks had been cleared out. Tables were set, the bar was cleaned off, with kegs of drink all set and ready to be poured. He saw a stage for performers set up in one corner, and the roaring fire going behind the counter warmed his bones. It looked like a proper inn, one of the nicer ones that he had been in.
Thankfully as well he looked and saw that both Zoltan and Geralt had returned. His adoptive father and the dwarf were both standing around an owl. The bird had a hat over its eyes, and was tied to a standby a cord, that would give her room to fly around the inn if she so wished. As he got closer both Geralt and Zoltan turned to him, the dwarf smiling at him.
"Aye Dominik lad, met Poppy? She'll be talking and playing Gwent before you know it," The dwarf said happily, turning back to his bird.
He felt a scoff escape his mouth, "Sign me up for the first match."
Geralt rolled his eyes with a smirk, "You against an owl at Gwent, finally a fair matchup for you."
"Very funny Geralt," He muttered crossing his arms, as both Zoltan and Geralt laughed.
After a moment he felt a smile come to his face as well. It felt good having them all together again, he didn't feel as alone anymore. Geralt finished laughing, before turning and smiling to him.
"Jokes aside, it's good your back," he said, smiling at the younger Witcher before turning to Zoltan, "You learn anything from your half?"
Zoltan turned away from his bird and looked at the two of them, his arms crossed, "A couple bruises and a torn doublet's all I got. He wasn't stayin' with any of them, they seen neither hide nor tail of him in ages…. All I learned was a few of Dandelion's pick-up lines, dubious amounts worth."
He saw Geralt nod and turn to him. Sighing Dominik looked over to him, "Didn't learn much myself either. All I learned from one is that she saw him walking arm in arm with a blond woman from Kovir. The other told me he had been wanting to see Kalkstein. Tried to see if I could go see the alchemist myself but the Witch Hunters nabbed him…. So not much."
Zoltan nodded gravely, "Aye doesn't narrow it down much, how about you Geralt?"
He saw Geralt turn and meet his eyes again, "What you learned wasn't so useless after all. Matches up with what I've heard," he started, turning to face both he and Zoltan now, "Women I met with hadn't seen Dandelion in a while. But all claimed that he had been seeing someone. A blond woman, from Kovir, a trobairitz. Names was Callonetta or something."
The name didn't ring a bell to Dominik, but he looked down at the look of realization that dawned on Zoltan's face.
"Ahhh, that makes it clear as crystal. It's Priscilla! It must be," The dwarf said with a smile, looking up at the two Witchers.
Geralt looked over to him, and then back down to Zoltan, "Who's Priscilla? Never heard that name before."
Dom turned his eyes to Zoltan as he laugh, "Ha, a trobairitz, quite popular as of late. Picture Dandelion with a pair of tits and you've got a general idea."
The idea of a female Dandelion made him chuckle, but also peeked his curiosity. He laughed and looked down to Zoltan, "Ha a female Dandelion? Gotta say it's a pretty interesting image, how'd he handle meeting her?"
"I think he fell in love," Zoltan said, not a tone of sarcasm in his voice.
He and Geralt both looked at each other and he knew they both thought the same thing. If Dandelion had fallen in love, it had to be quite the woman. The bard had many notable lovers through the years he knew, but he didn't think the bard would truly fall in love anytime soon.
"Well, well… that's some big news. Looks like he finally met his match," Geralt said with a smile, looking to Zoltan and Dominik both.
Zoltan laughed and looked at them, hands on his hips, "She's his match alright, maybe more. The laddie's head's on fire. Lassy's got him whirling."
A small smile managed to cross his face. He never really knew the feeling of looking for years, to finally find that perfect person for you. That feeling of after years of searching, finally realizing you love someone, and that they're the one you want to spend your life with. For him, it had always been Ciri. He was lucky enough to find that person early in his life. It brought a bigger smile to his face, realizing that Dandelion may have finally found that person. It interested him to meet the woman who could possibly be the one to make Dandelion settle down.
He was searching as well, he was trying to find the person he loved, to help complete himself. In order to do that, he needed to find Dandelion, and if his friend was in any trouble, he would save him. After that, he would finally go and find his love as well.
He smiled down at Zoltan, "Well gotta say, interested to meet the woman who managed to capture our poets heart."
Geralt nodded in agreement, "Yeah, seems like if anyone knows what he was up too she would."
Zoltan laughed and nodded, "Aye and it'll be easy as well. Priscilla works with a mummers troupe. She performs nightly at the Kingfisher, should be starting soon actually."
Going to a night of poetry, and music reminded him of his mother. The two of them would always sit and listen, his mother would then sing to him when they got home, often beautiful songs. He wasn't ever much of a singer himself, but his mother always had a beautiful voice. After the amount of traveling and fighting they'd done the last few weeks, a night at the inn listening to music with drinks at an inn sounded quite nice.
He sighed with a small smile, "Gods I haven't been to a performance like that since I was… 11, I think. Used to go with my mother all the time in Cintra."
Zoltan smiled alongside him, but he saw Geralt roll his eyes, "We've been sentenced to a night of poetry… wonderful."
He rolled his eyes and Zoltan scoffed shaking his head, "Must ye' always Geralt? This will be true poetry. You'll see. Come on, should almost be show time by the time we get there."
Geralt rolled his eyes again and he laughed. He saw as Zoltan turned towards the door, with Geralt and he following closely behind. The sun was almost set over the city of Novigrad, their first day coming to an end soon. After spending so long in Velen, he wanted to hopefully find Dandelion and even more hopefully Ciri quicker. With every morning he awoke during the last few weeks, he could feel himself getting closer and closer. Slowly but surely his family and friends were reuniting.
He smiled as they stepped outside, ready to go meet Callonetta, and hopefully she could lead them to their friend. He adjusted his armor, despite its light weight, he felt his bones starting to wear, yearning for a long night of sleep. That would hopefully be what he got, that and a night of music and poetry. A night of slight luxury in the long arduous quest he was undertaking.
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The Kingfisher had been tucked between two alleys, right before you made it to the wealthier part of Novigrad. The night was chilly, as he followed Zoltan and Geralt down the street towards the entrance. It seemed like the perfect place to have an inn for the wealthier people of the town. After following Geralt and Zoltan through the door, the warmth of the building hit his bones right away. No bards were playing yet, but the first thing he saw was a stage, with a lute sitting on a low seat. People chatted, laughed and drank all around, and they all seemed to be eagerly awaiting the performance. Zoltan had told them on the way, that Priscilla's shows were often crowded, drawing in packs of people from all corners of Novigrad, from the bits, to the wealthy districts.
"Nice place…" He said, dodging a man carrying trays of drinks.
He could see the obviously wealthier patrons of the inn casted the three of them odd looks, but both Geralt and he were used to it, and Zoltan took it in stride, gesturing for them to follow.
"Aye it is. Come on, lets go find some ass rests," The dwarf said, as they weaved through the crowd of people.
Surprisingly the three of them managed to find a bench that was empty. He took a seat between Zoltan and Geralt, leaning back against the table, feeling the warmth from the inside warm his aching bones. He grabbed an apple from a bowl of fruit that was behind him and bit into it as people continued to chatter, filling the room with voices. The voices were loud and insistent, he was about to ask how much longer until the show, when all of the people in the Kingfisher went quiet at once. He turned his head to the stage, and finally got his first glimpse of Callonetta.
She wasn't Dandelion with a pair of tits like Zoltan had described. However, he could see why the bard had been attracted to her. The trobairitz was beautiful, with her long blonde hair coming down past her shoulders, she wore the outfit most mummers wore. It was a blue and red corset, and long tight trousers one leg blue, the other red, with a red cap covering the top of her head of blonde hair. She took a deep bow, looking out into the audience, and for a split second he could see her staring at the three of them. If Dandelion truly did love the woman, then he was sure the bard had told her about Geralt and he. She kept her gaze lingered at the three for a moment before turning to the lute on the stand on stage.
Gently she picked up the instrument, leaning back against the table, and gently tuned it. He looked around and saw the people around him waiting with bated breath. The twangs of the lute strings echoed through the inn it was so quiet. Finally after a moment of tuning, the woman leaned back against the stand, crossing one leg over another, and began to play.
He sighed in content, leaning back against the table. The music that came from her lute was beautiful and refreshed his bones and spirit. Priscilla was obviously talented with the instrument, but he realized just how talented she was when she began to sing.
These scars long have yearned for your tender caress.
To bind our fortunes, damn what the stars own.
Rend my heart open, then your love profess.
A winding, weaving fate to which we both atone
You flee my dream come the morning
Your scent-berries tart, lilac sweet
To dream, of raven locks and twisted stormy
Of violet eyes… glistening as you weep.
The lyrics of the song clicked in his mind right away, and he turned his head over to Geralt. The older Witcher who was apprehensive about coming, was now leaning down on his knees, listening with bated breath. He didn't recognize Priscilla's song as one of the one's Dandelion composed, so he deduced it was one of her own making. He realized just how much Dandelion cared for the woman and trusted her. He knew the bard often spoke of Geralt's exploits, and apparently his as well to people. However, to know the story of Geralt and Yennefer enough to compose an entire ballad, Priscilla more then likely knew of most of their exploits.
The song was beautiful, and he could see some people around him even moved to tears. It couldn't help but make him wonder, what a ballad about himself would sound like. Would 'The Ballad of the Young Wolf and the Swallow' that Dandelion had been writing ever make it to fruition? A ballad about he and Ciri releasing was the least of his concerns at the moment, however, hearing the beautiful song of Geralt and Yennefer, seeing how it moved people to tears couldn't help but make him wonder. Even if he found Ciri, what was there to write about?
The two of them had escaped Cintra yes, and trained together at Kaer Morhen, but after they had been separated, while she was traveling worlds, going through hell and back, he was searching for what seemed to be a ghost over the continent. Perhaps if he hadn't been a petulant child, and stayed with Geralt, he could have joined their expedition to save Ciri when she was captured by Vilgefortz. He could have fought by Geralt's side at Strygga Castle, side by side with Ciri. Dandelion had been with the group Geralt took to save her, perhaps that would have been a fitting subject for a ballad about them both.
More importantly he could have been reunited with Ciri then, if only he had listened. He let his anger and resentment get the best of him however, he left Geralt insisting that the older Witcher wasn't doing everything in his power to find Ciri and set off on his own. It was the biggest mistake of his life, and he regretted it to that day. It would always be the biggest what if of his life. What if he had simply put his anger aside and stayed with Geralt, trusted him again after Ciri disappeared the first time. Would he have survived the battle at Strygga Castle against Vilgefortz and Leo Bonhart? Would he have been reunited with Ciri? Would he have survived Rivia a short while after that?
So many what if's ran through his mind as he sat there, listening to the beautiful ballad about his adoptive parents. He knew they would all make him mad if he continued to think about them, only make him feel even worse.
He didn't have control over those situations, but something he did have control over, was the there and now. And in the there and now, he was going to save Ciri, whether he got a ballad or not.
I know not if fate, would have us live as one
Or if by love's blind chance we've been bound
The wish I whispered when it all began
Did it forge a love you might never have found
You flee my dreams come the morning
Your scent-berries tart, lilac sweet.
To dream of raven locks and twisted stormy
Of violet eyes… glistening as you weep.
The song had finally ended, and the entire inn was silent for a moment again. However, that silence only lasted for a moment before the whole entire ground floor broke out into raucous applause. He watched as Priscilla took a bow, and he stood up to clap himself. The fire had sufficiently warmed his bones, and he knew the trobairitz deserved his applause. Geralt next to him still seemed to be in shock, he knew the older Witcher had to have been hit hard hearing the new song, seeing as he and Yennefer only recently reunited. He gave a nudge with his arm, and the older Witcher seemed to finally smile, standing up and beginning to applaud.
Up on the stage, he could see Priscilla eye he, Geralt and Zoltan again. He could tell from her gaze that she knew why they were all there. She went to begin walking off the stage when another voice rang throughout the inn.
"I know that one! Murdered some Temarian boys back in White Orchard," A woman's voice screeched.
His head shot over and he could see an older woman in a grey dress, pointing a finger accusingly at Geralt. He then looked over to Geralt himself and saw the older Witcher sigh with an eye roll.
"For fucks sake…" The older Witcher muttered to himself, as more people began yelling at each other.
He couldn't help but laugh at the annoyed look on his adoptive fathers face. More shouting occurred between the crowds. The woman was insistent that Geralt had come into her inn at White Orchard to slaughter people, which he knew more than likely wasn't the truth. People screamed at the woman to take her fight outside, that the Kingfisher was supposed to be a decent establishment. It all seemed like that guards were going to have to be called, until he heard a new voice, closer to the from his right.
"Come, this way," Priscilla said, coming up next to Geralt and gesturing to follow her.
Zoltan quickly moved passed them to follow, and he and Geralt went behind him. The arguing eventually seemed to die down, as Priscilla pulled them into a corner of the Kingfisher, right near the steps to the upper floors. She looked around to make sure nobody was actively eavesdropping on them, before turning back to the three.
"Dominik, Geralt, allow me to introduce Priscilla… also known as Callonetta. As beautiful as she is talented," Zoltan started, before gesturing his hands towards the two of them, "And these two lads are-."
"Oh I know," Priscilla said, a smile coming to her face, turning to Geralt first, "You're Geralt of Rivia, Dandelion's told me all about you, and I've listened with bated breath. Besides, I can't think of a better subject for a ballad than a Witchers love for his sorceress…. Besides maybe one thing."
Priscilla turned to look at him now, and smiled, "And you're Dominik of Cintra. The Young Wolf."
He scoffed and felt his eyes roll, "Is Dandelion really the one who's trying to make that name a thing?"
The woman smiled and laughed with her arms crossed, "Ha, it's already in the title of his first song about you. Like I said, he's told me about you as well. The famous adopted son of Geralt of Rivia, on a quest to find his lost love."
His face started to get hot as he sighed. Priscilla let out a small laugh, before Geralt got her attention again. The older Witcher spoke in a low tone, so as the make sure the ears around them didn't hear, "It seems Dandelion was meticulous in telling our stories, even down to small insignificant details. Did he tell you anything else, like where he was going?"
He took a step back when Priscilla burst out into laughter, "AHAHA, wow that truly is funny. Thank you for coming, see you later," She said loudly, before leaning in closer to them all, "Not here, follow me."
She started up the stairs of the inn and he felt his stomach churn into knots. If the woman was being so secretive, it had to be a serious matter. The three of them followed her up the stairs, the commotion of the ground floor fading away. He didn't know what Dandelion could have possibly gotten himself into, and he didn't know how Ciri would factor into it.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
"There a reason for all the secrecy," Geralt asked as the four of them all entered Priscilla's larger room.
He stood across from the blonde woman with his arms crossed, and he could see the look of worry cross her face. His own stomach began to churn even more violently. Zoltan closed the door behind them, and Priscilla looked up at them with a sigh.
"An excellent reason for it really…. Last I saw Dandelion he told me he was planning a heist. Sigi Reuven's vault, and I've not seen him since," She said, her voice dripping with worry.
"Sheep dip… dammit," Zoltan cursed as soon as he heard the words.
He felt himself scoff as he met Geralt's eyes. Both the Witchers held a look of disbelief. Dandelion was the last person he knew that would rob a vault. However, the dream he had with Corinne Tilly now made more sense to him. What Elihal had told him, about Dandelion wanting to see Kalkstein now also made sense. The one part that didn't make sense was why, why Dandelion needed to rob a mans vault, and also, why Ciri had been with him.
His eyes still full of disbelief he looked over at Priscilla, "Dandelion rob a vault? I'd sooner believe he became a priest of the Eternal Fire. What the hell could he possibly need to do that for?"
Zoltan scoffed in agreement, "True that is. He forgot to pay for his wine at the Passiflora once, laid awake for three days thinking about it."
"Dom's right, what the hell was he thinking? He have any debt, or creditors he needed to pay off," Geralt asked, looking between Dandelion and Priscilla both.
Zoltan shrugged, but Priscilla met their eyes, "He claimed he was helping someone. That it was urgent and couldn't wait."
Upon hearing the words leave Priscilla's mouth, a hundred alarm bells all went off in his head. He saw the dream playout yet again. Dandelion and the swallow in a sewer system, plugging their ears as a loud explosion blew apart a wall.
Words left his mouth before he could even think, "It's Ciri it has to be! But what the hell could SHE be robbing a vault for?"
He looked over to Geralt, feeling desperate for an answer, but the older witcher didn't seem to have one, simply shaking his head, "No idea, but it looks like your dreams didn't lie. Dandelion must be the one she contacted, gotta find him and we'll figure out what happened to her…. Who's this Sigi Reuven anyway?"
He asked looking back to Priscilla and Zoltan, their dwarf friend scoffed, "Bah, tall, fat… and dangerous as hell."
"Limp in his left leg," Priscilla added quickly after Zoltan had finished.
Geralt's face contorted into one in deep thought. He had no idea what the older Witcher could be thinking about, but he knew what he himself was thinking about. For some reason Ciri had needed Dandelion's help, and the thing she needed help for, was breaking into a vault. There wasn't a scenario that he could wrap his head around that made sense as to why she would need too. He thought she was there looking for help with a curse, but more pieces of a puzzle kept being thrown into the batch. One thing however was clear to him, Dandelion was in trouble now, and he was also the one who'd know what became of Ciri.
He looked up to meet Priscilla's eyes, "I'm guessing that this heist didn't go all that well? Can't really see Dandelion being any good at something like this."
Sadly Priscilla shook her head, "Well, he hasn't rode up in a gilded carriage, so I assume so. I've asked after him, but it's as if a gang of cats has gotten everyone's tongues! I only managed to find out he caused a ruckus at Whoreson Junior's lair, and Whoreson's goons chased him all over town."
Through his body, his blood pumped faster. If someone had tried to chase and kill Dandelion, it means they more then likely had been chasing after Ciri as well. He knew that a gang of thugs would pose no threat to her really, but the idea of someone else trying to chase and kill her, nearly sent him into a rage.
"Whoreson Junior, never heard of him, who is it," Geralt asked, as he felt his gloved hands curl into fists.
Zoltan scoffed again from below them with his arms crossed, "Bah, biggest prick in all of Novigrad, not literally but…"
He got the dwarfs meaning when Priscilla spoke up again, "He's one of the four bosses who control the cities underworld. The others being Sigi Reuven, Carlo 'The Cleaver' Varese, and the King of Beggars."
Zoltan shook his head, an annoyed look on his face, "That rascal… least he didn't cross the church. If he brought that damnable institution into it, we'd be in deep."
He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. He didn't assume it would be, but it was looking more and more like finding Dandelion would be no simple task.
"So you're telling me Dandelion managed to piss off two of Novigrad's underworld bosses…. Dandelion, Ciri… what were you thinking," He said with a sigh, crossing his arms.
Geralt nodded next to him in agreement, "Yeah… I hope Dandelion made it out of this all okay."
Priscilla scoffed and he could see the worry begin to flood over in the woman's eyes, "And in one piece! You know what they do to bards? Break their fingers, rip out there tongues!"
Geralt held a hand up to reassure the woman, "Relax, Dom and I will get him out of this."
Quickly after he nodded in agreement, meeting Priscilla's eyes, "He's right we will. First things first though, looks like we need to find this Sigi Reuven, and Whoreson Junior."
"Don't know about Whoreson, but Reuven owns a bathhouse in town not far from here. Careful though both you… he's a dangerous character," Zoltan warned the two of them.
He felt himself scoff as he looked to all three of them, "So are we…. If I learn any of them laid a hand on Dandelion… or Ciri, they'll be sorry."
Geralt nodded in agreement with him, but Priscilla sighed looking at them both with pleading eyes, "You two may be… but Dandelion isn't. Please be careful and let me know as soon as you find anything."
Nodding he looked out the window, over the darkened city of Novigrad. It had only been two days in the city, and they thankfully already had the leads that they needed to find Ciri. He was hoping that they would be able to find the end of the trail sooner then they did in Velen. However, he knew better then to expect the world to throw any luck his way. It was only going to be through his own hand, and that of Geralt's he would be able to piece together the puzzle.
The puzzle that would lead him to his lost friend, and to Ciri.
A/N: Day 2 in Novigrad has been complete, and now Dominik and Geralt are setting out to rescue Dandelion. I am so excited to get to Novigrad, because it's here that I get the chance to write some awesome quests featuring Dom alone, or with some of his old friends. I will give a fair warning, in Novigrad we will have a few instances of Dominik and Geralt splitting up to go follow separate leads, or to complete things they need to complete alone. I have a few really great things planned for Novigrad.
That being said I plan to have this arc done within 15-16 chapters before we head for Skellige. Then once in Skellige it will probably be the shortest of the initial three arcs, but still chopped full of action. I know once I get past Skellige, that the chapters will come fast and heavy, since after that we soon finally get to bring Ciri into the main story, and as we know that will be very interesting.
We learn a couple more things about Dom's past, including how he wasn't able to go rescue Ciri with Geralt the first time. We learn about more regrets he has from the last eight years. I love slowly revealing details about his past, it adds more depth.
With the posting of this chapter, if my outline for this story works out like I'm planning we are officially a quarter of the way done with this story! I hope you've enjoyed it so far, the support has been amazing and I can't thank you all enough. I wanna hear in a review what in the story are you looking forward to the most? Is it Dom reuniting with Ciri? The Battle of Kaer Morhen? Or the adventures Dom and Ciri will get up too once she's back? Tell me in a review, it means so much guys and girls.
Stay safe everyone, I'll see you all next time!