In Dreams
By Pyreite
Chapter 10: Chained by Destiny
Geralt lay in the grass like a landed fish, dazed and bleary-eyed as if Ellana had yanked the hook from his mouth. He twitched when her shadow receded, the smell of ash filling his nostrils. The stink of brimstone lessened, though the musky scent of draconid remained. Softened by the sweetness of honeysuckle, the freshness of grass. That draconid scent carried nuances of aged leather, gilded steel and oily feathers.
Ellana having shifted back, toed him in the ribs. "Get up!"
"Don't yell", he groaned, his ears still ringing. "Hurts".
"My arse", she cursed, nudging him in the hip. "You used a blasted mind-spell on me. Then you had to cheek to stab me with a knife. You're lucky I didn't set you aflame or tear you in half with my claws. Maker knows I was tempted too".
The witcher stomach roiling, rolled onto his side.
She leapt away from him, grimacing when he retched. She missed the colourful tomato-red wash of his half-digested meal by inches. It splashed into the grass, stinking of rancid spices. It smelt worse than a pile of fresh druffalo shit. Ellana hearing Fen'Harel's snickering, rolled her eyes in disgust.
She was offended on principle by his comical remark.
"The altitude disagreed with him".
Ellana responded with a rude flip of her fingers.
"Temper, temper", he teased. "Ma vhenan. How I have missed your fiery nature. So again I ask – Have you changed your mind? I would be glad to escort you home".
"You'll die first".
"Promises, promises".
"Shut your trap and sit there!"
Fen'Harel smiled. "As my love wishes, though I will hate every moment you fawn over that creature. It might resemble a shemlen, but it is more akin to us than them. Longer lived than a mortal, having an affinity for magic and a resistance to toxins. I am most impressed".
She reached for her belt, clawed fingers slipping inside a leather pouch. From it she withdrew a vial filled with a yellow liquid. She popped the cork with a flick of her thumb, stepping around the pool of red vomit. It was vivid against the verdant grass, as easy to see as it was to smell. Nose wrinkling, she bent her knees till she was crouching beside Geralt.
"Here, witcher", she instructed, sliding her hand under the back of his head. "Drink".
Geralt's eyes crossed over the bridge of his nose. "What is it?"
"A stamina potion. It'll help settle your stomach, ease the dizziness and wash that acrid taste from your mouth. You've got vertigo, likely from our impromptu flight. The potion won't work if you keep staring at the vial instead of swallowing what's in it. You drink fouler things without a thought".
She pressed the vial to his mouth, scowling when he pressed his lips together. He refused to drink, distrusting a potion he hadn't brewed himself.
"Brat", she accused. "I intended to be gentle, but we can do this the hard way".
Ellana pinched his nostrils shut with her free hand. She arched an eyebrow when Geralt's eyes bulged. He shook his head trying to break free, but she held tight – dropping her weight onto his chest. She half-straddled him, forearm across his throat – a poleyn digging into his belly. He was distracted when her cleavage came into view, his mouth popping open like a baby bird's.
"Good lad".
He near choked when she emptied the vial into his gob. He grimaced, ready to spit it out – expecting an acrid unpleasant taste. His outlook brightened when caramel-sweetness rolled across the back of his tongue. He swallowed without hesitation, making appreciative noises. Ellana snorted, releasing his nose.
"You big, baby".
She saw the change in Geralt's expression, the narrowing of his eyes. Whirling she snatched up the blade he'd dropped in the grass. Clawed fingers tight upon the hilt, she turned the borrowed dagger against a pale throat. Inches under his chin, the blade pressed into his jugular. Fen'Harel stilled, looking at her over the bridge of his patrician nose.
Ruby-red eyes glinted in the sunlight.
"Try to touch me again and I'll slit you open from ear-to-ear".
The corners of his mouth tightened. "Stop fussing over him".
"I'll fuss over whomever I please", snapped Ellana, baring her fangs. "Away with you. Now. Or you'll earn yourself a second smile. I haven't hurt you yet, but I can make an exception".
Fen'Harel glanced from her to Geralt, finding his presence an annoyance. "Ma nuvenin".
He eased back a step, then another when Ellana pressed her advantage. He retreated further when she rose to her feet, careful not to rouse her ire. He hastened to put space between them, the moment she raised her left hand. Magic gathered beneath her splayed fingers, glowing an eerie ghoulish-green. It crackled like lightning, shedding sparks that danced on the tips of her claws.
Fen'Harel raised his hands in supplication. "Vhenan. Please".
"Why shouldn't I scatter your essence across thousand worlds?" she demanded. "You've pursued me across space and time! Shadowed my every step! If Lara hadn't found me, I'd likely be your prisoner! You're bound to me through the Anchor! I'd enjoy using it to tear you to pieces!"
"You are not cruel like Mythal".
"How would you know?" she spat, seething. "Look at my face! I have cat-eyes and dragon-horns sticking out the crown of my head! My fingers have claws as if I were some kind of beast! I'm not an elf any more!"
Fen'Harel bowed his head, feeling responsible. "You were dying. I had no choice".
"If that were true than you should have let me go!"
He shook his head, mouth trembling with fear and anguish. "Nae".
"I could have rejoined my clan! My friends! My family! You arrogant self-centred prick! You kept me here instead of giving me my due!"
Fen'Harel inhaled a shaky breath, horrified by the thought of losing her forever. "I had to save you".
"I had given enough!" snarled Ellana. "After everything I'd done! After everything I'd survived! After everything I'd sacrificed! I'd earned the peace of my death!"
Outraged stirred in the depths of her spirit. It was difficult to resist the change as the pupils of her eyes dilated. Light flooded inwards, the world suffused with a sudden intensity of colour. The sun once a pale yellow disc, darkening to burnished gold. The grass once a pale lime, burning a lush forest-green.
The tree trunks were a gleaming bronze, the leaves glittering like emeralds.
The clouds were radiant specks in a vast sea of blazing blue-fire. Her senses came alive, the myriad layers of the world once dull and indistinct now vibrant. Even the scents were stronger, clearer and less muddled. A draconid's outrage filled the hollow of Ellana's throat, throbbing there with a hiss of agitation. She was close to shifting, to sinking into the fiery pit of her fear, anger and regret.
"Calm down", called a gruff voice. "You're not a monster".
She gasped when a gloved hand gripped her shoulder. Her head turned till she met the stern amber-gaze of a cat-eyed witcher. He reached for her right hand, gloved fingers sliding down her vambrace. She was too startled to resist when he palmed the dagger's hilt. She gave it back without protest, exhaling a shuddering breath.
"No, I'm not", she agreed, her shoulders slumping in relief. "Thank you, Geralt".
Fen'Harel's mouth thinned, the line of his jaw tensing. He was displeased by their easy camaraderie. Ellana seeing him glare at the witcher, growled like a disgruntled lioness. She bared her teeth, snarling when Fen'Harel dared curl his lip. He flinched as if she'd scolded him, hating how she defended the stranger in their midst.
Like Avallac'h he took immediate offence.
"Why is he here?"
"Why are you in the outermost boundaries of my dreams?" countered Ellana. "Let's not forget how you invaded my lover's lair. Then tried to kill one of my newest friends. Or did I imagine the red-eyed wolf-spirit behaving like a peeved mabari? Only you'd be haughty enough too think that you had exclusive right to me".
"I love you".
"You're a deceitful prick".
"I can at times be vexing", he admitted, though it was grudging. "But that doesn't make me your enemy. We have always shared a common foe. You know that as readily as I do. I haven't followed you across a thousand worlds without reason".
Geralt's nose wrinkled in distaste. He eyed the newcomer, reminded of Eredin. He was tall and slender, though the shoulders under that thin cloak were broad. He carried himself like a warrior, light-footed and rolling on the balls of his feet. Though he didn't wear a single piece of armour.
His hands were bare, though he had black vambraces upon his wrists. The leather overlaid in steel-plate was plain and undecorated. The jerkin under his cloak was also black and lacking embellishment. The collar of the shirt beneath that was a dark steel-grey. The sleeves and collar were embroidered with strange shapes and patterns.
Geralt saw a skyscape of the moon and myriad stars in silver-thread. Each depicting what appeared to be constellations. He studied the rest of Fen'Harel's clothing, frowning at how understated the wraith dressed. His breeches were steel-grey, the boots upon his feet matching his jerkin. Plain black with neither greaves nor poleyns upon his knees.
He wore a belt at his waist, made of unassuming brown leather with a plain steel buckle. There wasn't a sheath to suggest that he carried a dagger or even a sword. A rather strange occurrence for a wraith that resembled a pointy-eared elven hermit. He was dressed better than most Aen Seidhe, but more spartan than an Aen Elle. He was of a similar height to Avallac'h, but shorter than the far taller Ge'els.
That didn't mean he was any less dangerous.
Geralt knew from experience that appearances could be deceiving. "That's a polite way of admitting you followed her", he replied in Ellana's stead, going with his gut. "Why? I have no idea, but I can guess with a degree of certainty. But you should know that she's not going anywhere with you".
Ellana's eyes widened with incredulity. "Witcher?"
His fingers tightened upon her shoulder in response. "You made me a promise. Remember?"
"So I did", she acknowledged, recalling their bargain. "A pact once made must be fulfilled". She considered Fen'Harel, arching a silver brow. "You'd know that best of all. So whatever plans you had for me had best be forgotten".
Fen'Harel shook his head. "I can't do that".
"Why?"
"Neither you nor I belong in this world". He offered her his hand again, hoping to entice her away from the witcher. "Garas ma. Let us leave this place together. We could start anew elsewhere".
Ellana lifted her chin, and looked down at him over the bridge of her nose. "Once I would have given up everything I'd had to go anywhere with you. But I'm no longer a naive maiden enamoured by thoughts of a future I'd never have. Time and experience have made me wiser, as have centuries of pain and suffering. I'd be a fool to put my heart back into the hands of a beast that chose power over love".
"I have only ever wanted the best for you".
"Liar".
"Vhenan".
"You hid what happened to me".
Fen'Harel was adamant. "It was the only way I could protect you. If Solas had known what you were. If he had seen what I did. He would never have let you to leave Thedas".
"I don't believe you!"
"I know".
Geralt eyed the wraith that wore the shape of an elven man. He was handsome like Eredin, though his red eyes reminded the witcher of a viper. Coal-black hair flowed from the crown of his head, down his neck, back and shoulders. It was bone-straight like the blade of a sword, though he wore parts of it in thin braids. The ends of which ended in silver clasps, each round like a bead.
The pointed tips of his ears poked out of his hair, proclaiming his race at a glance.
He wore nothing in the way of jewellery, his ears free of rings and studs. He was remarkably ordinary, though Geralt knew better. He'd never met a creature capable of taking elven form that had eyes the colour of fresh blood. He might've thought Fen'Harel a vampire if not for the flush in his cheeks. That the medallion around his neck hadn't ceased twitching was reason enough to be cautious.
"Then give back what you took from me", demanded Ellana.
Fen'Harel recoiled at the news, the shock plain upon his face. "Your memories".
"You stole them?" demanded Geralt.
The wolf in a man's skin turned on him, spitting accusations like venom. "Who are you to ask me such a thing?" he snarled, lips peeling back from his fangs. Like Ellana his teeth were as jagged and sharp as broken glass. "I don't fear the hunter bearing blades of silver and steel. You reek of blood and death, but you are nothing next to me".
The witcher snorted, a gloved hand reaching over his shoulder. He stared Fen'Harel down, cat-eyes narrowing to angry slits. "I hunt monsters for a living. You fit the description. I don't have a contract, but I can make an exception".
He gripped the hilt of a silver sword, ready to draw it.
Fen'Harel saw the twin wolf-heads on the pommel, mouths open in a silent snarl. "So, ma lath", he called to Ellana. "Have you exchanged one wolf for another?"
"This one I can trust. You I never could".
"That is fair. I had the worst reputation among the Dalish. Your people were wise not to trust me then or now. But regardless of my history, I am not your enemy. I didn't come here to kill or wage war, but to prevent you from making the worst mistake imaginable".
Geralt didn't trust his tone. "Like stopping the White Frost?"
The line of Ellana's mouth was grim. She hadn't agreed to do that despite her assurances that she'd meet with Zireael. Yet she didn't correct him when Fen'Harel blanched. He gaped at her in alarm. He saw the truth of her ambition reflected in the stubborn set of her jaw.
"You seek to oppose Solas".
"Why does he think I died?"
"Because you did until Mythal's fire awakened within you".
She gestured to her eyes, to the horns upon the crown of her head. "That's why I look this way?"
"You are the lastborn daughter of her bloodline. Her power was destined to become yours, though not without adversity. You had to survive a gauntlet of challenges before you were ready. Death being the final obstacle. You overcame it and became more than what you were before".
"I never wanted that".
"We cannot choose who we are meant to be".
Ellana made him an offer in turn, extending her left-hand. Eddies of fade-magic swirled about her clawed fingers. Ghoulish light snapped and crackled, turning her skin an eerie green. She resembled a tarnished bronze statue left out in the rain. Yet she thrummed with life, drawing breath into her lungs – bosom heaving.
"You have one chance to return what you took from me".
Fen'Harel shook his head, reluctant to comply. "If I refuse?"
"I subdue you with the Anchor, then tear into your soul to find what's mine. You might survive the exchange or not".
"So it's to be cruelty for cruelty's sake?"
"You taught me well".
"So you are like Mythal after all".
He appraised her from head to toe, noting the horns upon her head. The silver strands curling around her ears, the long tail of hair that fell down her back in a thick braid. Her slitted pupils, the nictating membrane flicking across her eyes whenever she blinked. The fangs that protruded from her upper and lower jaws. She was a grandchild of Mythal, yet in her the dragon's blood had undertaken an unusual mutation.
She was a blend of both natures, dragon and elf within one being.
The perfect host for the creature that'd set Thedas ablaze.
"You'd rather fight than run", said Fen'Harel, opening his arms wide. "A change of heart for the woman that eluded me for decades in the Fade. You aren't ruled by fear as you once were. Good. You'll need that fire to turn Solas from the path of vengeance".
Ellana was hesitant to take the bait. "What did you do?"
"Not I, ma vhenan", he corrected. "You did the deed. Mythal was torn from him as I was, while you were in a fit of pique. Draconid instinct conflicting with pain, ire and confusion. You lashed out with claws and flame in self-defence".
"Is he lying?" asked Geralt.
She frowned in bewilderment. "I don't know, but he hasn't accepted my offer".
"So we're doing this the hard way?"
"So long as the music plays. We dance".
In the meadow by the sea, Avallac'h flinched when an explosion rent the air. He whirled in the direction it'd come from. He froze when he saw emerald light rippling on the horizon. There beneath the sun, the sky burned as if aflame. He heard the clash of steel on stone, the roar of an enraged dragon.
"En'ca minne!"
He spat the words of a spell, raising his hands to cast. His attempt to open a portal was banished with a flick of Lara Dorren's fingers. He turned on her, intent upon arguing. She cut him off with a stern warning. Her sister's business far from finished.
"You will not interfere".
"Can you not see the magic that blazes there?" he countered, gesturing to the sky. "Can you not hear them fighting? She is engaged in combat! We must go to her! We must render her aid!"
Lara shook her head, the ashen curls of her hair lashing the collar of her gown. "Neén".
"She is your sister!"
"Why do you think Ellana took Gwynbleidd with her and not you? The witcher is the better ally in this battle. He knows how to fight, hunt and kill monsters. This one might be outside the sphere of his experience, but with Ellana's help they are more than a match for it. How much experience do you have fighting monsters?"
"None".
"Exactly".
"A monster", reiterated Avallac'h. "You cannot mean".
"Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf found her while you slept. He came to take her back to where he thinks she belongs. He attacked Gwynbleidd for daring to intervene. She distracted him long enough for the witcher to dispel his magic. It bought them time until Ellana was ready to face him again".
"Here?"
"What better place to meet her greatest adversary, than in the realm she can shape to her every whim? This dream is as much a memory as it is an elaborate trap. Ellana has fought wars, Crevan. She is as much a warrior as she is a capable leader. You needn't fear for her safety".
"What of ours?"
A second explosion spewed black fumes into the sky. A third made the ground tremble beneath their feet. Avallac'h rocked on his heels when a fourth explosion cracked the earth like an egg. Jagged fissures zigzagged left and right, filling the air with choking dust. He coughed, face pressed into the corner of his elbow.
Eyes watering, he thrust out an arm – groping blindly for Lara Dorren.
Someone grabbed his hand, their fingers gripping tight. He felt the indentation of a ring digging into his knuckles. Certain he'd found her, he cast a barrier spell to seal them in. It appeared in a flash of white, cascading outwards in a dome till it touched the ground. Outside clods of grass, earth and small pebbles bounced off its transparent shell.
The air cleared within, though it stunk of churned earth.
"Elaine! A d'yaebl aép arse!"
Avallac'h still coughing, managed to find his feet. The earth had ceased to shake, though debris poured down the concave sides of his barrier. He refused to dispel it, uncertain if it were safe. He blinked blearily, eyes watering until he spied an unusual sight. He stared at the filthy, bedraggled creature holding his hand.
"Lara?"
She lifted her head, face covered in dust. She spat out a mouthful of pebbles, then pursed her lips to blow the dirty hair out of her eyes. Once ashen-haired and lovely, she resembled a mole plucked out of the earth. Her pearl-studded gown was ruined, the white satin stained a horrid grass-green. The collar, sleeves and bodice were smeared with mud.
She glared at him from under the rat's nest of her fringe. "Crevan".
He cringed, feeling awkward. "Your crown is missing".
"I hadn't noticed!" she snapped, yanking her hand back. She peered down at herself, taking stock of the damage to her wardrobe. "That spiteful varh'he! I knew it was a miracle she hadn't dumped me in the river!" She stomped her feet, fingers curling into fists and threw her head back.
Avallac'h was certain he'd never before seen (or heard) Lara Dorren shriek in fury.
Ellana watched the circle of the Yrden sign fade, glad of the witcher's ingenuity. Their foe, bruised and bloodied but alive glared at her from a hole in the ground. It was three feet deep, concave and had smooth glass-like sides. The result of an explosion and repeated blasts of dragon-fire that'd melted the very earth. Fen'Harel trapped inside, tried in vain yet again to wrench himself free.
"Those links won't break, no matter how hard to you try".
A chain thin as a string of silk bound him hand and foot to a rock sunk into the pit. Fashioned from volcanic glass, it was large, flat and engraved with myriad runes. Each glowed in blue lines sizzling with magic. Ellana clucked her tongue when Fen'Harel writhed like an insect caught in a spider's web. The chain tightened to the point of pain, slicing through the fine leather of his boots.
It cut into his wrists, scoring hair-fine lacerations that bled.
"Release me!"
She wagged a clawed finger at him. "All this fuss and drama could've been avoided if you'd returned my memories. But instead you had the temerity to try and kill my friend. You know what happens to a mage when they die in the Fade. I doubt it'd be any different for a witcher even if they're somewhat emotionally stunted".
"You got in my way!" spat Fen'Harel in disgust. "Repeatedly! Risking your life for a hapless mortal! Why? He will age and die like the rest of his kind, mutant or not!"
"Speaking of hapless mortals".
Sooty, scuffed and grimy but otherwise unharmed. Geralt glowered at the hole's occupant from his perch atop the steps leading to Mythal's altar. Toppled statues of her web-winged avatar were scattered about him. Many in pieces, great and small. Some reduced to misshapen lumps of molten rock long hardened into black glass.
He glanced at Ellana, yellow irises gleaming like polished gold. "You sure about this?"
"I'd have preferred a less invasive method, but he's already refused common courtesy. Thus bound to me in body and spirit, he can't twist my dreams to his advantage. I'm a new and rather unskilled somniari, but I'm no stranger to the power of the Anchor. He never once tried to hurt me during our battle, witcher. That he focused his frustration on you, allowed us to manoeuvre him accordingly".
Geralt look around the ruined meadow, recalling their mad dance beneath the open sky.
Five explosions had blasted smoking craters in the earth. The grass and wild-flowers were crisped and blackened. The encircling wall scorched, its stones cracked and steaming. The trees outside were charred stumps, leaves and branches burned to cinders. The birds had flown away, though flocks of crested ravens watched from the safety of the forest.
Their beady eyes glinting as they perched in the treetops.
"It was a hard fight".
"Yet we prevailed", said Ellana. "Albeit with a few extra scars on my part. You're unscathed if a little singed around the edges. The air stinks of ash, but we're alive with minimal injuries. I'd call that a success".
The witcher considered all that he'd seen her do. "You fight like Ciri, but faster and more violent. What kind of move was that with the veil of fog and ice trailing behind you?"
"It's a specialisation of a teleportation spell. It's brief, hits fast and can only be used over short distances. My variation is called a Frost Step, wherein I use a cloud of magic to obscure my path of travel from one point to another. I can pass through objects, even people and anyone in my way gets chilled or frozen solid. Having an ice-affinity like I do, enhances the Frost Step a little too well".
"I can see that", he replied, gesturing to the paths of sleet criss-crossing the meadow. "That ice-wall spell you cast made for excellent cover".
"It was better than getting our arses' fried".
He noted the silver-blue pillars of ice steaming in the sun. Each was as tall as he was and double his girth. A veritable shield against the worst spells Fen'Harel had cast. Most lay in a heap of glittering shards, while a handful were still whole. He was reassured that like ordinary ice, it melted into puddles of cold water.
"It was", he agreed. "I don't like that you have to get in there with him".
"No other choice I'm afraid", replied Ellana. "I need direct contact to get inside his mind".
"You can't look into his eyes and read him from a distance?"
"He's a somniari like me. A rather powerful oneiromancer. He can shield his thoughts as I can from mental penetration. Only another somniari can punch through the layers of his consciousness. Things could get rather dangerous, so it's best you stay at a safe distance".
"Fine".
"No matter what you see or hear. Don't interfere".
"I'll make that choice if I have too".
"I mean it. If you break the trance, it could kill us both. I'll withdraw from Fen'Harel's mind after I recover what he stole. He stripped me of my memories, pursuing me across space and time. Don't waste your compassion upon someone so undeserving".
"Do what you need to do. I'll be watching".
Geralt gave her estranged beau a scathing look. Fen'Harel responded with a lupine snarl. Like Ellana he was a bewildering blend of elf and beast, though he was neither. Geralt had never before encountered such a creature, their battle a new experience. He wondered if it'd be worth mentioning in the witchers' codex he planned to write.
"I'd like to interview you after if you don't mind".
Ellana gaped at him. "What for?"
"I plan to write a book about witchering. Tonight's battle could be worth its own section".
"On wraiths?"
"Yeah".
She smirked. "So be it. You've helped me a great deal. I'll return the favour when we wake. You have my word on that".
A cheeky salute and she leapt into the hole. Fen'Harel recoiled when she touched the bottom to the sound of crystalline chiming. He would've backed way if he could have, but that fine silver chain bound him in place. The boulder beneath him, black as pitch – glowed an eldritch blue. He grunted when Ellana flicked her fingers.
The chain jerked, pulling taut.
She approached at her leisure, crossing that glassy basin. The heels of her boots clipping the ground, each step producing a sweet bell-like peal. Fen'Harel froze when she reached him, then walked between his splayed legs. Like a courtesan, skirts flapping – she planted her heels on either side of his hips. Then in a graceful descent, she straddled his lap as if he were a horse.
"Vhenan!" cried Fen'Harel in dismay. "What're you doing?"
"Quiet", she reproved, wiggling her backside. She ignored her captive's frustrated moan, making herself comfortable. "Better". She reached for his face, calloused palms and fingers cupping his flushed cheeks. "Stop looking down my bodice".
"You're leaning over me!"
"So?"
"Your breasts are right there! You're wearing Mythal's attire! None of her gowns or armour had a modest décolletage! She always went into battle at court and in the field with her breasts bared! What does a dragoness have to fear from such mundane scruples?"
"Nothing at all", replied Ellana without an ounce of remorse. "This'll be as painful as you make it".
Fen'Harel braced himself when her irises blazed like hot coals. That once cool emerald-green lit from within like a lantern. She gazed into his eyes, ready to launch her assault. She was more irritated than surprised when he made a counteroffer. Her brows furrowed in consternation as if he'd asked her to strip naked and dance a jig.
"You want to do what?"
He licked his lips, nostrils flaring as he inhaled. "You've captured me. I'm at your mercy, so I'd like to negotiate the terms of my surrender. I'll give you what you want, but I expect something in return. It'd be a mutually beneficial exchange".
"How so?" she asked, lifting her hands from his face.
Fen'Harel reddened when she made herself more comfortable. Contrary to what he'd expected, Ellana didn't release him. She lay upon him instead, ample bosom pressing against his chest. He stared when she laid her forearms across his clavicle. She propped her chin atop her crossed wrists, gazing down at him.
"I'm listening".
He swallowed, feeling nervous. "I'd prefer to negotiate on an even footing".
"You're in no position to make demands. So tell me your offer, I'll counter and we'll either agree or disagree. If you fail to interest me, I'll bludgeon my way inside your mind. You've got one chance. I'd suggest you use it".
He scowled, nose wrinkling. "That is hardly fair".
"We're talking about fairness now?"
Ellana arched a silver brow, shifting an arm to reveal her cleavage. She sank her clawed fingers into his hair, seeking what lay beneath. She moved the slick strands aside, exposing the pointed tip of an elven ear. She bit her lip, revealing a pointed fang digging into that soft pliant skin. A flash of pink inside the moist cavern of her mouth captivated Fen'Harel.
He stared as the pad of her thumb caressed the ridge of his ear.
"V-Vhenan".
"Yes?" she purred, leaning inwards. Like a cat she rubbed a velvet cheek against his own. "Did you have something to say?" He groaned when she nipped the lobe of his ear. "Shall I tease it out of you a drop at a time?"
"P-Please".
"Please what?" she asked, voice dripping with seductive promise. "You'll have to tell me what you want. Aren't we negotiating your surrender? We haven't even discussed terms and you're shivering like a leaf in a chill breeze. Didn't you have something to offer me?"
"Yes".
"Good".
A clawed hand slid along the line of his jaw, down to the point of his chin. Her fingers slipped underneath, gentle till she tightened her grip. She eased back till they were nose to nose, the tips of her claws pinching. She peered into his eyes, waiting for him to surrender. He capitulated with grace, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Forgive me".
Emerald light bled from him like wine from an overturned goblet. Out his nostrils, eyes and mouth it poured in a blinding flood. The witcher threw an arm up to shield his face. A heartbeat later he heard a draconid shriek, the pitch shrill enough to shatter glass. He slapped his hands over his ears when the volume escalated.
In a play of flame and shadow, the magic of Mythal mingled with that of the Elder Blood.
Across space and time it reached, shredding the boundaries between worlds. A thunderous crack rent the air, hurling Geralt off the stairs of Mythal's hallowed altar. He hit the ground with a groan, pain blossoming along his ribs. He squinted against the brightness, a curse on his lips when he spied Ellana. Her eyes and mouth were open wide, her nostrils flaring as if she'd inhaled deeply.
That ghoulish-green light poured into her in the same way it'd left Fen'Harel.
Then in a second flash of brightness it was gone. Ellana rocked backwards, back arching as if she were stretched over a rack. The shock of recovering her memories so overwhelming that her eyes rolled back into her head. She slumped, losing consciousness. The draconid wail of her distress silenced. Her spells came apart, freeing Fen'Harel with a snap of silver links.
"Vhenan?" he called, easing himself upright when the chain fell away.
The glowing runes upon the slab of obsidian beneath him extinguished. He reached for Ellana with shaking hands, worried when she didn't respond. He touched pale fingers to her cheek, frowning when he felt warmth and moisture. He sighed when the scent of brine filled his nostrils. He slipped a hand under her chin, lifting her head so he could see her face.
"Oh, vhenan", he whispered, finding her cheeks wet. "Ir abelas".
She wept in the realm of her dreams, the depth of her grief tainting the Fade around them. The sky darkened overhead, the rumble of thunder filling the heavens. Dreary grey clouds rolled across the azure sky, blocking out the sun. Fen'Harel gathered Ellana into his arms, witnessing her influence all around them. The grass withered, delicate leaves turning from green to brown.
The flowers shrivelled, delicate petals rotting on the stem.
Leaves fell from the trees, laying bare the skeletal boughs as the wind picked up. It was icy cold, bearing the scent and taste of winter. Not rain but snow blew in with a flurry of white flakes. A shadow passed over the witcher, flying upon silent wings. It alighted upon Fen'Harel's shoulder, taloned feet gripping tight.
The owl shed its plumage in a flurry of white, black and brown feathers.
A woman wearing a feathered cloak appeared beside Fen'Harel. She was tall, slender as reed and fair as a flower. The pointed tips of her ears poked through the dark strands of her hair. She was clad in a pale white gown. The sleeves were long and sweeping, the bodice tight and the skirt a marvel of banded feathers.
She nodded when Fen'Harel glanced her way, smiling when he blanched.
"Nae", he begged in earnest. "I've only just found her again".
She pressed a taloned finger to his lips when he tried to argue. He fell silent, breath hitching when she inclined her head to Ellana. He trembled when her arms slid around his beloved's shoulders. The gentle pat of her clawed fingers upon his knuckles near breaking his heart. He relinquished Ellana into her care albeit with great reluctance.
"Where will you take her?"
The woman said nothing, though she gazed at the stormy sky. Fen'Harel looked to the grey clouds, unaware when she draped her cloak over Ellana. He gasped when her weight disappeared, the warmth of her body gone in an instant. He turned back, eyes wide when an owl took flight. It flew up and over his head upon silent wings, catching an updraught that bore it skyward.
It was gone in a flap of white feathers, its pale plumage vanishing over the treetops.
"Ellana!" cried the witcher, clambering to his feet.
Geralt witnessing the exchange, came running in a blur of leather and steel. He leapt a fissure, two ells deep. Vaulted over a fallen statue of Mythal, cleaved in two by a bolt of lightning. He reached the ditch, throwing himself inside with a mighty leap. He hit the bottom with a crystalline chime, feet causing yet more bell-like peals as he dashed to Fen'Harel.
He grabbed the spirit by his collar, yanking him forwards. "Where is she?" he demanded, giving the fool a stern shake. "What did you do?" He stared when the wolf's composure broke, the tears coming thick and fast. "What's wrong with you?"
"My beloved died", sobbed Fen'Harel. "Am I not allowed to grieve her loss?"
Geralt grasped his shoulders, gloved fingers digging in like claws. "She was right here! Living! Breathing! I spoke to her, so did you! She wasn't dead!"
"Ellana was caught between worlds. She chose a path. The Lady has come to offer her another. I cannot bar the way of the goddess presiding over death. No matter how much I love Ellana, the Lady of the Skies has greater right to her than I".
"Where will she take her?"
"To Mount Belenas. There alone the Avvar gods dwell beneath the sun, in a place so high it touches the vault of heaven. Birds alone can reach it, drawn there by some strange inner compass. They are the messengers of the Lady, wife of Korth the Mountain-Father. She rules over all things above Korth's domain – the sky, the wind and weather".
"What about dragons?"
Fen'Harel stared at him, comprehension dawning. "Mythal. Did the Lady take my love to reclaim what was stolen from her? The gift of flame given wings to soar upon the currents of the air. Either way, human. Ellana will have to make a choice".
"I'm a witcher not human!" snapped Geralt. He leaned forwards, glowering into a pair of ruby-red eyes. "What kind of choice? You said she died. Are you telling me that this Lady of the Skies plans to kill her?"
"That is not the Lady's way".
"Why didn't you stop her?"
"Death is inevitable, thus it cannot forever be avoided", said Fen'Harel with a spirit's honesty. "I concealed Ellana's passing from the Lady for centuries. That is why she wandered unbound in the Fade, searching for something to cling too. It was there she found her half-sister Lara Dorren. There she learned of your world, Zireael and the Elder Blood".
"I don't understand!"
"Do you believe in destiny, witcher?"
Geralt scowled at the reminder of the unseen force that'd governed his life. "Yeah. It's a bitch".
Lara inclined her head, feeling the wind stir the ashen strands of her hair. She regarded Avallac'h with pity, noting how he watched the sky. The sun was gone, swallowed by grey clouds. The grass and flowers were shrivelled twigs. So dry that a stray spark would set the desiccated stalks alight.
The trees were bare and leafless. Myriad gnarled roots covered in the reds and yellows of autumnal foliage. The wind was cold, the taste of frost upon the air. She saw a pale shape flit across the treetops, white against the dark boughs. Its plumage trimmed in black and brown, the Avvar colours of the earth, sky and winter.
"Va fáill", she lamented, fearing the worst. "Me sor'ca".
Avallac'h hearing her farewell, spotted the owl winging away. "I have never seen such a bird here before", he remarked, considering all that Ellana had shown him. "Ravens, even larks and wrens but never an owl. The last time this happened, Ellana was dazed and upset. Something is wrong".
"The Fade reflects her emotions", said Lara Dorren. "All that exists here is shaped by her moods and memories".
"I know".
"Was that an educated guess?"
He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to snap at her. They'd spent much of the night arguing about Auberon, Eredin, Cregennan and Zireael. The latter of whom (he was certain) was connected by more than the Elder Blood to Ellana. She had arrived on his doorstep within an hour of his paramour stepping out of the Fade in the flesh. A coincidence Lara had acknowledged, but refused to explain.
"Thaesse!"
She clucked her tongue, disapproving of his waspishness. "Temper, temper, Crevan. Try to maintain a sense of decorum. I doubt Ellana would appreciate your rudeness. Although I wouldn't count on waking next to her come morning".
Avallac'h turned on her, furious. "You'd dare suggest that she would abandon me as you did?"
"It doesn't matter what I think". Lara gestured to the withered grass, the bare trees and the cracked cobblestones. "Everything is disintegrating. Can you not see the decay? This world can't exist without my sister".
He gaped in horror when black spots appeared upon her dusty face. Near her temples, then along the curve of her cheek down to the line of her jaw. Like rust it spread outward, settling into the filthy ashen strands of her hair. Then her perfect face cracked like an eggshell, her hair crumbling into tiny black specks of sand. She gazed at Avallac'h, her emerald-eyes hardening into solid crystalline facets.
"Have faith, Crevan".
"Where is she?"
Lara smiled, her face freezing if she were a doll fashioned from porcelain. Then as if to taunt him, she shattered into a thousand pieces. Avallac'h rushed forward, falling to his knees in the dirt. He reached for what was left of Lara Dorren, finding a pile of broken shards and black sand. He dug his hands in, searching amidst rags of tattered satin strung with pearls.
He found something hard, round and smooth in the detritus.
"Speak to the wolf that stole her spirit", whispered Lara, her voice carried upon the wind. "Ask him how he lost her in the darkness between worlds".
Avallac'h shook it loose, granules of black sand falling away to reveal a signet ring. It was fashioned from platinum, much too large for the delicate fingers of a woman. It was thick, masculine and inset with jewels. More ostentatious than Ellana's delicate band. The bezel bore the engraving of a single flower with six petals in the shape of a star.
Each point and its heart were inlaid with silver-white diamonds.
"I will", he promised, slipping the band upon the index-finger of his left-hand. "He will lay all bare or I'll tear the truth out of him".
Avallac'h awoke in darkness. He muttered an incantation, igniting the brass candelabra upon the night-stand. Soft amber light fell across the bed, illuminating the rumpled coverlet. He gasped having expected to find the spot beside him empty. He found Ellana there instead, her silver head upon the pillow.
Her bare arms atop the blanket, her hands brushing the soft brocade fabric.
"En'ca minne", he whispered, full of joy and relief.
He reached for her, eager to wake her with a kiss. Yet in the candlelight he paused, noticing a lack of certain features. He touched the crown of her head, feeling the warmth of her hair yet the absence of her horns. A glance at her hands revealed flat curved nails rather than long black talons. He touched her face with trembling fingers, hoping she'd rouse at his touch.
"Elaine".
Avallac'h cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand, feeling that familiar warmth. He paused a moment, letting himself hear the steady inhale and exhale of her breath. He shifted the blanket to reveal her chest swathed in soft linen. She'd borrowed one of his shirts, wearing it to bed again. The fabric rose and fell in the restful rhythm of sleep.
"Elaine", he called again, louder and more insistent.
She didn't rouse at her name, nor the gentle pressure of his fingers upon her face. She lay there, still asleep as if she hadn't heard a word he'd said. Alarm gripped Avallac'h, then panic when he gave her a gentle shake. She was jostled like a rag-doll. He pinched her cheek, hoping the brief flash of pain would wake her.
"Elaine?" he called, hope dashed when her eyes stayed closed.
Avallac'h trembling with fear, gathered her into his arms. She was limp as a marionette with cut strings, head lolling upon her neck. The font of her hair spilling down her back in a river of molten silver. Her spine curving as her pulled her close, pressing his face into the curve of her neck. He cursed Lara Dorren's warning, hating that she'd been right.
"Elaine! Please wake up!"
She didn't return his embrace, arms hanging loose at her sides. Her cheek pressed into his shoulder, the line of her jaw slack. She neither moved nor spoke, slumbering like a baby in a cot. She was unresponsive, breathing and alive yet unaware of the her lover's desperation. A hard smack on the back, between the blades of her shoulders didn't elicit a response.
She slept onwards, still unconscious.
"Elaine!" begged Avallac'h, his voice escalating. "Wake up!"
He didn't hear the banging on his bedroom door, or the frustrated shouting. He had eyes only for the woman in his arms, unable to wake from their shared dream. The tears welled then overflowed, spilling down his cheeks. He hugged her tight, pressing a kiss to her brow. He rocked her slowly as a parent might their child, keening when Zireael burst into his bedroom.
Shattering the quiet like a clap of thunder.
The scent of hot ozone filled Avallac'h's nostrils. He gazed at Ciri, wild-eyed and bedraggled. Hair mussed from sleep, his nightclothes wrinkled. He sobbed when he saw who'd she brought along. Yennefer bewildered and half-dressed in a black nightgown.
Geralt bare to the waist, clad in a pair of loose white shorts.
Myriad scars criss-crossed his torso, deep and shallow. The puckered pink skin, long-healed if ugly. Such injuries would've killed an ordinary man. That he was a witcher with a multitude of beneficial mutations, had saved his life on many occasions. Avallac'h doubted the red-eyed wraith at Ciri's back would survive being burned alive.
"YOU!"
He was casting a spell before he knew it, the tips of his fingers sparking. Yennefer her violet eyes widening in horror threw herself in front of Ciri. She gasped when lightning struck her in to the chest, more surprised than angry. The onyx star at her throat glowed white-hot then dimmed till it was a dull lifeless black. She wheezed when Ciri screamed, falling backward into her arms.
Blood blossomed on silk trimmed in lace, staining it a dark wine-red.
Geralt threw himself at the bed, casting the sign of Aard. Avallac'h shielded Ellana with his body, taking that telekinetic force in the back. He dropped her but moments before he was tackled, toppling off the bed. He hit the ground hard, wheezing whilst the witcher grappled with him. The Aen Saevherne, guardian of the Elder Blood was soon subdued.
"Witcher! Let me go!"
"Stay down or I'll break your neck! Ciri! Is Yen all right? I can smell blood! Ciri!"
Lara Dorren's last living descendant hiccuped, her mouth trembling. Teary-eyed and upset, she regarded the elf healing her stepmother. He was fair and handsome like Avallac'h, yet he exhibited none of her former tutor's disdain for humans. His hands were bloody, the linen shirt he wore splattered with red. He hadn't hesitated to help her ease Yennefer down onto the carpeted floor.
Nor had he baulked at healing her which had astounded Ciri.
She looked at him then, desperate for an answer. "Will she live?"
The red-eyed stranger didn't once lift his eyes from his patient. Attentive as the blackened edges of Yennefer's wound turned pink. The scorched hole in her nightgown evidence enough of her injury. He said nothing at first, holding the gaze of Ciri's violet-eyed stepmother. He distracted her throughout the spell's duration, lessening the pain.
Mind-to-mind they argued, their continued silence upsetting Ciri.
"I asked you a question!" she cried, poking him in the shoulder. "Stop ignoring me!"
Fen'Harel snorted, breaking eye-contact. "You'd best speak to your daughter before she throttles me".
Yennefer grimaced, still sore but on the mend. "I'll be fine, Ciri. You needn't worry. My saviour is an adept hand at healing spells. I'll need a few hours to recover, but I'll be good as new by evening".
Ciri's breath hitched. "You're sure?"
"Quite. Oh, darling. Don't cry".
"Avallac'h hit you with a lightning bolt!"
"I'll live. Which is more than I can say for our resident Aen Saevherne".