Horror and beauty

I can hear my comrades calling in the middle of the night as though across a dream. 'It's time to fight, don′t be yellow-bellied!' Calling, calling me like the beating of a drum as I wander to the place up on the hill. Up, up that sodden hill. And I stare at the soldiers before me, black, blacker than smoke. And every step I choose to take begins to set the world aflame. Oh, watch the fire burn, burn up and up into those skies! I stand on to better see the view. What view! And the wind picks up, up, up. "Give me your fire!" And I can smell the smoke of hell. And I scream out to the sky: Who wins this war? My dress is on fire and I hurl curses at the land. Just watch me burn! And like flowers, the bodies tumble around this muddied hill. I burn so bright it blinded. I'll burn up soon. And I close them, I close them, I close my eyes.

The rocks beneath my feet begin to crack. "Come down now!" I fall to pieces, fall like leaves, like broken shards of stained glass windows.

"Remember me?" she asks across the fog, the river. "Who'll save you when you fall?

I walk into the river to wring those embers from my burning skin. And on the banks of that river I shiver as a fox stands frozen. And when that fox howls, I howl with it. In its cries, I'll find an end. An end. What end?

The end of all things.

"Don't you ever wonder what could have been?"

No, I'm not going to scream.

With a start Yennefer wakes up. She gasps for breath. What a fucking endless nightmare! With shaky hands she wipes the sweat from her clammy forehead, rubs her aching temples. Luckily she doesn't often dream of Sodden Hill, hasn't done so for quite a while, at least not that she can remember. Why now? And who was that strange woman by the river? It was too foggy to see her clearly. Tissaia? The Deathless Mother? But she didn't make a deal with the creepy old crone, not like Francesca and Fringilla. She knows better than to believe in ancient prophets or benevolent goddesses. And everything comes at a price, no matter what. Francesca and Fringilla will sooner or later learn that lesson, too, probably the hard way. Though luck. Or was it neither of the two but somebody else entirely?

Then there was that fox. Was it really a fox, though? It didn't feel like a mere animal. It felt, yes, old. And wise. Sentient. And - sad? She wouldn't have been surprised at all if it had started to speak. However, it did not. Which makes her feel - uneasy, gods know why. Of course, the whole dream was unsettling, it was a nightmare after all, and not just because she saw, no, felt herself burn to pieces. Was it some kind of vision? A warning? Premonition? But of what? Or is she overreacting? Maybe the dream is of no significance whatsoever, just some nonsense her subconsciousness cooked up from traumatic memories and lively imagination?

It's still pretty dark, but the stars are already fading. Can't be long until dawn. Yennefer yawns and rubs her eyes. She should try to catch some more sleep before they continue on their way to Gors Velen. She doesn't feel even close to sufficiently rested yet, thanks to that blasted nightmare. Yennefer closes her eyes again but is too rattled from the lingering memory of the dream to fall asleep. Cahir does not seem to fare much better than she, he is tossing and turning in his sleep, probably also fighting some imaginary battle or dreaming of that ashen-haired girl again. Funny that they both are having nightmares in spite of the forest being so quiet and peaceful, just the occasional hoot of an owl or a mouse rustling through the undergrowth. Several times, but from afar, Yennefer hears a dog barking, reminding her of the fact that they are not far from civilisation, even though it does not feel like it. As the dark of night slowly yields to the twilight of early morning, more and more birds are waking up, too, and start singing and doing whatever birds do at this time of the day.

Yennefer listens to the song birds for a while. Then, as she still feels sweaty from her nightmare and quite thirsty by now, she gets up quietly. Close by Cahir is sleeping fitfully, occasionally moaning and whimpering in his sleep, but not too badly, so Yennefer decides against waking him up.

A thin veil of mist is obscuring the tree trunks and underbrush and muffling the sounds of the early morning but as the brook is not far, the sorceress is not afraid of getting lost in the fog. Naturally the mist is becoming heavier as she gets nearer to the stream, and the grass and ferns covering most of the forest floor are moist from morning dew. Once again Yennefer is more than pleased with herself for having acquired the long woollen cloak as it protects her not only from the cold but also from getting uncomfortably wet, may the Nilfgaardian, no Vicovarian, grumble and bitch about its colour as much as he likes.

When she reaches the brook, she hunkers down, washes her clammy face and then scoops up some water to drink. It's cold but refreshing after the troubled night. Glancing up from her now empty hands, Yennefer suddenly freezes. Through the thin screen of fog a fox is looking at her from the opposite stream bank. For a singular moment in time their gazes lock. Then, with a swift and silent motion, the fox disappears into the whiteness of the mist.

A fox, like in her nightmare. Is that possible? Her hands shaking slightly, Yennefer pinches herself to make sure she is not dreaming still. However, a dream it is not. A weird coincidence then? Or some kind of omen? A portent of things to come? But if so, a bad or a happy one? She takes a deep, steadying breath. Well, it's probably not a particularly rare occurrence to encounter a fox in a forest at dawn, is it? Facing a human in its territory, on the other hand, must be quite a shock for the poor animal. No wonder it disappeared so quickly, as if by magic.

Yennefer is just about to stand up when an eerie howling sound pierces through the silence. It makes her flesh crawl. The fox? Like in the dream? Muffled by the fog it is not easy to locate. However, she has the impression that it is coming from her side of the stream, not the opposite bank. Fuck. She scrambles to her feet and looks around. No movement, nothing suspicious. Just the mist and that howling. There are no wolves here so close to a big city and with all the homesteads scattered across the forest, are there? Yennefer listens intently again. She is pretty sure now that the noise is coming from the direction of the path. Is Cahir in trouble? As quickly as possible while looking around carefully for potential dangers, she walks back toward their camp. Through the fog she soon spots the vague outline of the huge fallen tree marking their resting place. The howling has ceased.

"Cahir?" No answer. He cannot still be sleeping in spite of that noise? Then Yennefer hears another sound, like somebody is - throwing up? Shit. She quickens her pace. Something is definitely wrong. And now she has a good idea what.

When Yennefer reaches the place, Cahir is on all fours, shaking and panting and retching spasmodically. He is bleeding from his lip and flinches violently when she touches his shoulder. Panicking, he attempts to get to his feet and as far away from her as possible, obviously still trapped in his horrible nightmare and not realising who she is nor where they are.

She takes a step back, shocked at the effect that the light touch of her hand has had on the man. Although, knowing what Tissaia did to the Nilfgaardian prisoner to break him, it should not come as a surprise. He is clearly traumatised. No wonder he is deadly afraid of being touched by a sorceress in his current panicked state. The pain of the torture must have been devastating, and it is pretty much a miracle that Cahir has not ended up a blithering, drooling idiot trapped in his own mind for the rest of his life. Yennefer is well aware of that. After all, she also got a taste of the horror when Stregobor tried to read her mind. He had hardly touched her head for more than a few seconds before Tissaia rescued her, but still the pain was absolutely unbearable. Tissaia probed Cahir's mind repeatedly and every each time only stopped after he had passed out from the excruciating agony. He might have deserved it and Tissaia mostly did it for her, but still, it was a horrible thing to do to another human being. No doubt, the occasional, really bad nightmare about what happened is to be expected. It could be a lot worse. Only that she is not at all practised in dealing with panic attacks and any such things.

Cahir has finally managed to get up from the ground and is standing on shaky legs, back pressed against the massive tree trunk, panting for breath. His face is white as a sheet and he is still trembling all over, his fingers clenched and digging painfully into the knotty bark. He blinks several times trying to focus.

"It's alright. I won't hurt you," Yennefer soothes but does not dare go closer. "It was just a dream, not real. A bad nightmare. I'm sorry I scared you."

Cahir stares at her, his eyes wide and haunted. Gradually though he seems to recognise his surroundings, to remember her.

"Y-Yenn Y-Yennefer?" He swallows visibly, trying hard to get his hoarse, shaky voice and ragged breathing under control.

"Yes, it's me." Slowly, tentatively she moves a step closer. "It's me. I promise I won't hurt you." Another careful step. "Try to relax. It was a bad dream. Just a dream. It's over now." One more step. "Nobody is going to hurt you." She is almost by his side now and he has not flinched back, that's definitely a good sign. Maybe she isn't so bad at this after all. "We'll soon be in Gors Velen and you can find a boat to Cintra. You'll be okay. Just breathe and relax." Avoiding any abrupt movements, Yennefer sits down against the tree trunk as close to him as she dares. Cahir swallows again and nods faintly. Then he closes his eyes and lets himself slip to the forest floor next to the sorceress.

"Just rest now," she says. "Take your time, we aren't in a hurry. Gors Velen will still be there in a few hours."

To Yennefer's heartfelt relief, the worst seems to be over. Cahir's panicked breathing slows down considerably during the next minutes of them just sitting there and becomes more regular, and the trembling is gradually subsiding. He is still paler than usual, but a little colour is slowly returning to his cheeks so he does not look quite as ghastly as when Yennefer found him. His bitten lip has stopped bleeding, too. Hopefully this night's incident and its horrors will soon be forgotten. She is certainly not going to remind him of it.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Yennefer?" Cahir's voice wakes her from her light doze a while later. "You need to see this, Yennefer!"

"What?" She blinks, then opens her eyes reluctantly. Then they grow wide in surprise. Defined rays of brilliant morning sunshine are flooding through the dark treetops and the last remnants of mist. All around them the twilit forest is glittering and glinting as the sun reflects in billions upon billions of tiny dewdrops, every single one a sparkling diamond caught in the filigree threads of intricately woven spider webs. The glistening garlands are everywhere, stretched between twigs and branches, draped across ferns and spun around blades of grass. A truly stunning sight. Speechless and wide-eyed Yennefer looks around lost in the marvel of the moment. Never in her unnaturally long life has she beheld anything as beautiful, not in Aretuza nor anywhere at any court on the continent. It feels like ancient magic.

Alas, the spectacle is a short-lived one. As the sun rises higher in the sky, the excess moisture evaporates quickly, robbing the silken threads of their evanescent gems. Yennefer sighs as this marvelous miracle of nature is slowly fading away. Then she turns toward her companion.

"Thank you for waking me up. This was breathtakingly beautiful." She gives Cahir her most radiant smile, still abuzz with the magical moment.

"It was," he simply says, smiling back at her for the very first time. It might not be a sight quite as staggering as the sparkling dewdrops, but definitely a nice change from his usual scowl, and especially welcome after his terrible nightmare and the panic attack earlier in the morning.

Funny how the very same place can hold both horror and beauty within less than an hour.