I can only but apologise fir the poor quality of this chapter, of which I am deeply unsatisfied. But at least I'm over it, and can now work on the next, which should feel better. I hope you'll enjoy nonetheless.

The musician sighed as she climbed the small rock to which her oak walking stick had not been able to find any detour. The journey was proving quite trying, and she was eager to see the end of it. Thankfully the greater part was now over, and she only had a few more days before reaching her destination.

But, truth be told, the quantity of effort she had to provide for her each and every step was also a blessing, for it prevented her to think too hard of what had been left behind, and what was still ahead. She knew that this end would be nothing but just another beginning, and that she would have to leave again, soon she hoped. But this time, if everything went well, the journey would be less tough, more merciful to her. And hopefully she could - stupid pebble! She almost tripped and waved her arm quickly to regain balance. She chastised herself. Better stay focused.


When Geralt had come downstairs, quite early in the morning, he had learned from the innkeeper that the blind musician had already left the inn. He had been surprised to feel a pang of - what? regret? Not quite so. Something alike maybe. But he had other fish to fry, bigger than this one, and he couldn't spend too much time musing on a beautiful voice and luscious lips. Speaking of voice, he quickly enquired about his travelling companion, not so fresh after a night of entertaining, but who was nonetheless eager to follow him on an new adventure that would prove matter for a new ballad.


The path was too calm, now, but strangely, it was not the constant anguish that was driving her since she had undertaken this journey, that everlasting worry she felt, of not coming back in time for the worse to be prevented, for her friends to be freed, it was not that awful feeling that she was desperately struggling to keep silent, in the back of her mind, that was nagging her, taking advantage of the easiness with which her steps were placing themselves on the road one after the other, but rather the memory of a deep voice, of a soft reassuring touch in her hand, and it was as confusing as it was comforting. Guilt was hitting her. How could she let herself go while so many people were in pain because of her, and were anxiously waiting for her, how could she give in to this memory, and give up their own, at any moment?


Jaskier and Geralt had had to separate. The bard had been asked, and accepted, to perform for some days at the local court. Curiously, people were eager to hear about the Witcher's adventure, but not necessarily to meet him in person. Geralt had shrugged, grunted, and Jaskier had been on his way, while himself was travelling through the forest where there were rumours of some ghoulish creatures. A forest that just so happened to be on the way to the north.


She had always enjoyed silence. Silence meant no one was screaming, yelling, no one was hurting. War wasn't silent, death was rarely so. But as her mind was trying to focus on her feet meeting the ground, she was feeling that months of silence were becoming deafening. Luckily, if she had had to deprive herself of her sight for the sake of a safe journey, she could still hear, listen. The chirping of the birds was a nice music to her ears. She surprised herself by singing softly to accompany them. Part of her was finding solace in the sweet melody. In her terrifying loneliness, she was not so alone.


Geralt had been riding for quite a few days, and he was sure he was nearing the menace. He had paused to examine the traces on the trees, the scent in the air, everything pointed to a giant arachnid, a centipede most likely. This would prove a good kill, and might earn him a nice sum at the closest town.

If the journey through the forest had not been the relief he had hoped, maybe the fight would be. Curiously, he had been distracted all the way, and without the annoyance of Jaskier's music, he had been unable to wash away the thoughts of a hooded silhouette whose hot breath he could still feel against the nape of his neck. He frowned, strongly dissatisfied with himself. Musing on such thoughts was dangerous. It's what could get him killed.


It didn't take her long to register that something was amiss, but she didn't immediately grasped what it was. She stopped singing. Listened. Then she got it. Silence. Complete silence. The birds. She couldn't hear the birds anymore.


The scent was stronger with every step of his horse. Soon, the gleaming black of the creature's shell was in sight. Geralt dismounted, and unsheathed his sword. Slowly, he walked toward the monster, which was quietly laying on the floor. He was not that close to it, but the element of surprise might work in his favour. Every step was bringing him closer.


She was not one to panic easily. She had had her fair share of terrors in the past, which had hardened her soul to the point of being hardly reachable by the element of surprise. But there was a strong difference with the present situation. She was blinded. If there was a danger, she wouldn't be able to see it. She only listen and smell. And none of those senses told her anything yet.


But suddenly, the hundred legs of the beast came in movement. The creature slithered quickly, and almost disappeared. Geralt ran after it. He felt his blood turn cold when he spotted what the monster was after. A lavender hooded silhouette. He ran faster.


Then finally she heard it. Between a growl and a shriek. Like a hundred bows on the strings of her lute. Like the sound Marullai had made when she had first tried to teach him how to play, out of their mother's sight. Only louder. Terror washed over her.


Panic washed over him. He was running as fast as he could, and it felt as if he would never be close enough. He yelled her name.

"Sara!"


Whatever the danger, she simply couldn't afford to die. Or rather, be incapacitated for longer a time than necessary. There was too much at stake. Too many lives that depended on this journey. She clenched her fists to steady herself. The sound had been behind her. So, she did the only reasonnable thing. She ran.


"Sara!"

But the musician hadn't heard him, obviously, and she had started running. The beast shrieked again before stalking its prey.


She was searching her satchel, desperate to find the small vial she was looking for. In the darkness of her world, she could only feel the small engravings she had made before leaving. Her fingers were stroking them as her feet were carrying her away, and she prayed neither root nor rock would come in her way.

There! There it was! She uncorked it, threw it behind her, running as fast as she could. Hopefully, it would work. Hopefully - fuck!


He had seen her throw something away along her frantic race, but nothing that seemed to deter the monster. And he could still not reach them! Finally, finally he was there, he was close -

"Fuck!"

He saw her hit the tree at full speed. He saw her turn around, facing the monster towering her. He was just behind it. It was only a matter of instants. He lifted his sword...


She heard it. Distinctly. The quiet noise of the vial being broken. Whatever the danger, it had stepped on it. Her voice didn't quiver when she yelled the closing of her trap.

"KASIRGA!"


The column of air raised high in the air, twirling. The centipede spinned around repeatdly, shrieking, trapped in the whirwind, before being ejected violently aside. It smashed against a tree, collapsing with it. Geralt stared in awe only for a moment. Then he was by her side.