Chapter Five: Witches, Witchers, and Sorceresses
The group marched on further down the tunnel, with Damien in the front, Triss and Fendar directly flanking him, and the rest following up the tail. The trek was silent for a few minutes until Albert broke the silence.
"Can I ask you something, Damien?" His voice was a little soft. He knew there was tension in the group after Triss and Damien's little spat.
Damien glanced back quickly, smiled, and turned back forwards. "Of course."
"How are you completely fine after fighting the fiend? You don't have any scars or bleeding."
"Remember that mutagen decoction I drank earlier?" Damien wanted to test the boy's knowledge.
"Right, it was a dark blue. You said it helped you fight, but-"
"Specifically, it activates whenever I use a witcher Sign. The stamina drain I experience when I use a Sign activates the mutagens in the potion, and they start to heal my injuries. Since the Griffin School focuses heavily on Sign usage in combat, it makes for the perfect combination." He glanced at Fendar, who was nodding in approval at the forethought that had gone into that strategy.
"It also made your blood vessels pop out." Triss reminded him.
"Why of course, the decoctions are incredibly potent. Drinking more than two or three in a short period of time without meditation or White Honey could kill even the strongest of witchers. It's the price you must pay for incredibly useful and powerful potions."
The group continued along the path until they came into a large room with multiple large exits. The room was considerably cooler than any other room, as a byproduct of the gaping exits; each opened to a small ledge, but beyond that was nothing but ice and mountainous rock. They were deep within the Dragon Mountains at this point, much farther than they could have anticipated. In the center of the room was a ledge, and atop that was a cauldron slowly bubbling. The fire underneath it was weak. They group fanned out into the room, unsure what to expect. Damien drew his silver sword, and the mages all drew their arms, ready to cast. The room was silent.
"Someone, something, has been in here. Recently. Scent is still strong." Damien said, looking around. He saw a singular bird, a crow, perched on a ledge high up in the room. "Strange, my medallion's humming, but the only thing that's here is that -" But before he could finish his sentence he was caught in vines, shooting off the cauldron. The vines surrounded him, binding his arms and legs, and drawing him above the cauldron. The room filled with smoke, and from it all emerged the witch.
She was hideous, as hideous as Ciri and Geralt had described. She had the cone shaped hat, but it was tattered and damaged. She remained covered in rags, but they were cut up, damaged. But most importantly, in her hand was Vesemir's medallion.
"My oh my? What do we have here? Another witcher? I would have preferred the other one, but you will have to do." Her voice was terrifying, grating and infuriating at the same time. The crone turned to the mages. "Ooooooh. You all smell of fear. Especially you, firehead." With that, her long and disgusting finger pointed at Triss. "Regret, failure, and jealousy. You will taste the best. Shame my sisters could not be here to taste you. But never the matter." With that, she motioned to the gaps, as large earth elementals appeared from below. "Kill them all, but leave the firehead to me. I will kill her myself."
With that, the earth elementals charged. The mages fought back as best as they could attempting to dodge and strike when they could, but the elementals were incredibly strong, resisting all but the most powerful attacks. All the while, the Crone attempted to corner and kill Triss, pinning her against the wall and tearing at her flesh. Fortunately, the witch hated fire, so Triss was able to keep her away as best as she could.
While the group struggled to stay alive, Damien was fighting for his ability to breathe, as the vines were suffocating him. He tried to draw attention to himself, banging his boots against the cauldron, hoping one of the mages could loose a fireball at him and burn away the vines.
Damien's attempts at attention were answered by a spray of fire from Triss that burned the vines binding his hands. They also burned his hands, but it gave him the chance to blast himself away from the cauldron, grab his knife and cut away at the vines, finally freeing himself. He grabbed his blade, ready to join the fight.
He ducked, rolled, and struck the earth elemental closest to him directly in the knee. He then dodged its swing, rolled behind the elemental, and struck it in the back with Aard. This knocked the monster off balance, allowing Fendar and Albert to blow it apart with lightning. Damien then engaged the other monster, taking a direct hit in the chest with one blow, and jumping right in front of Beata as it came through for a second. Right before the second arm hit him, however, he threw up a shield, which the beast hit and destroyed, sending it backwards. To Beata and Emily, it was unbelievable; he looked like he hadn't even been hurt from the first hit! Damien rolled away to assist Triss as the other mages proceeded to take care of the earth elemental.
The witch had cornered Triss on one of the ledges. Neither moved, but both were itching to do so when Damien sank his sword deep into the crones left leg. This threw her off balance and allowed Triss to blast her in the face with a large fireball that burned off most of her face. The witch stumbled backwards, but then turned around and swiped Damien across the face with her claws, slashing across his cheeks, and knocking him back. The Crone charged at Triss, knocking her off the ledge, leaving her dangling by only her arms above the seemingly bottomless valley. The Crone smiled, ready to kill her, when Damien struck her directly in the throat, twisting and slicing, cutting the witch's head off. Her body collapsed, and she dropped the wolf medallion. Damien immediately went to help Triss up, but found she was stuck; her satchel was stuck to some undergrowth below the ledge, preventing her from moving up.
"Triss, you gotta cut away the satchel!" Damien said urgently, knowing he could only hold onto her safely for a minute or so at maximum. "We can always replace the stuff you lose!"
Triss thought about what was in there; some amulets, salves, food, all stuff she could afford to lose. Except for one thing.
The ploughing lamp. Geralt's lamp. While Triss didn't really care about getting the lamp to Philippa, she knew that the lamp was more than that. Or was it?
Triss looked up to Damien, his golden cat eyes flashing in worry and urgency, pleading with her to cut away the satchel so he could lift her up safely. Maybe it's finally time. Time I moved on. With that, she drew her knife with her one free hand and cut off the satchel. As Damien lifted her up, she saw it fall out of the underbrush and fall endlessly into the valley. Damien brought her back onto the ledge, panting but happy. "You're okay, right Triss?" He asked, his hands on his knees, clearly tired from everything that had just happened in the last few minutes.
Triss looked back at him, flashing a strong smile. "Never been better, witcher."
Damien had a look of confusion about him as she walked back into the room with a sprite in her step. Women, he shrugged. He pulled out a bottle of Tawny Owl, drank it, and tossed the empty bottle over the ledge as he headed back into the room. He decided to take the Crone head and the wolf medallion, as he had plans for both.
When Damien walked back into the room, he found the mages attempting to disenchant the wall directly behind the cauldron. He had no idea what they were doing, but decided to let them go about their business. A few short seconds later, the wall disappeared to reveal a gaunt man dressed in professional garb, albeit torn up and damaged.
"Your suspicions were right Triss. The Crone did not kill the ambassador." Fendar stated, impressed.
She beamed at Fendar's approval, and proceeded to wake up the passed out ambassador.
"Uhhh….Who are you!?" The ambassador said, and he retreated into a corner in his little wall cell.
"Don't worry, we are-" Triss was surprised by his reaction, and was hoping to explain herself when Damien interrupted her.
"Here to rescue you, Ambassador Sheitkof. Surely you remember me, we met at your summer estate last year?" Damien had brought himself directly next to Triss, and offered the ambassador his hand. The ambassador's face quickly went from fear to welcome, as he recognized Damien.
"My oh my, Damien! It's good to see you. Glad to see you finally moved on from Olivia too." He winked and nudged Damien, implying something between Triss and Damien that only made the two blush.
"Oh no ambassador, it's not what you think-" Triss said, blushing hard and trying to explain herself.
"Miss Merigold here just wanted to help her king protect his entrusted." Damien said, matter-of-factly, smiling at Triss. His explanation made Triss sound good, so she decided to stop talking before she said anything contradictory. As they moved the ambassador into the room, she mouthed a thank you to Damien, who only winked back to her.
As they walked back into the room, Fendar and the other mages finished talking. "We were just discussing how to get back. The guards will have probably headed back by now, so it follows that we should just teleport back to Berniken. Make sense to everyone?" All nodded, and the mages opened a large portal, big enough for all to fit through.
The group all headed back. As Damien walked through, he saw the ambassador kissing the ground in front of him. "I thought I would never live to see the dirt again!" He fell into a fit of tears, sobbing as he grabbed at the dirt around him. The guards and villagers just looked at him in surprise. Damien walked into the town, with two trophies, one in either hand, and a medallion wrapped around his wrist. The commander walked towards them as they all came through and the portal closed.
"You lot made it! We were beginning to worry none of you would make it out! And you must be the witcher, correct?" The commander extended a hand, which Damien gladly grasped.
"Damien of Oxenfurt, witcher charged with clearing the mines, which I did, with the help of these mages of yours. Without them, I probably would have died in some cave inlet."
"Don't sell yourself short. We couldn't have managed without you Damien." Fendar said proudly, patting him strongly on the shoulder.
"I certainly couldn't have." Triss said, her hands on her hips, smiling at Damien. The witcher simply smiled back, and looked around, finding the village elderman, who had rushed towards them. "A crone had been possessing and summoning monsters. She was responsible for all the trouble. But don't worry about her, this is all that's left." Damien said, holding up the crone's head. "Oh, and here's the head of the fiend that hit the town as well." Tossing the fiend head on the ground, Damien looked up.
"And the miners? They all dead?" The elderman asked.
Damien's face went dark. "Not all. Some of them were possessed by the witch. We broke the curse, though. Your guards are bringing them back separately. They should be here shortly. With that, they heard the sound of footsteps, and saw the two guards escorting the three miners. "They have their own problems, but you can sort those out tomorrow. For now, keep them under a tight watch." Damien noticed the sun was about to set. "You mind if we stay the night?"
"Of course not! You lot have saved us all. You can stay here whenever you wish." With that, the group took up their sacks and went to rest shortly after eating a nice and stuffy supper.
Afterwards, Triss looked around for Damien, as she couldn't find him in his bed. She looked around and saw him sitting atop a cliff edge, his legs dangling off, drinking beer as the sunset.
"You should be more careful you know. Someone could push you off." Triss said, in a mocking tone, as she herself sat on the edge next to him. She had brought her glass of Erveluce, and drank alongside him.
"Nothing can sneak up on me. I'm a witcher-"
"You'd have heard it coming, I know, I know." Triss smiled, as she saw she had interrupted Damien's train of thought.
"Talk to a lot of witchers?" Damien turned to her, gauging her reaction to his question.
She paused, maintaining a poker face. "You could say that. How about you? Talk to a lot of sorceresses?"
"You could say that." With that he smiled, and looked back out to the beautiful horizon.
Triss thought for a moment, took a long swig of her drink, and asked, "So, mind telling me who Olivia is?"
Damien's face went from happy, to sad, to placate. "She was my lover for a few years. A mage in service to Kaedwen. She died during Radovid's witch hunts; when he took Ard Carraigh in the last war, he burned her and a hundred others in a victory parade. I didn't find out for months. I had told her to flee Kaedwen when I had heard Radovid invaded, but there was nothing I could do. It was winter, I didn't want to risk riding out to Kaedwen myself. In hindsight, I should have realized that something had happened when I never got a response to my letters. Until one day witch hunters tracked me down in Blaviken and tried to kill me for offering to protect a mage. Sheitkof's right though; I was sullen about it for a while. Losing a lover's rough." With that, he took a large swig of his drink. Triss had no words; no quips, no humor.
"So tell me, Triss, how's Geralt?" She snapped her head directly at Damien, eliciting a laugh from him.
"Don't be surprised. He's Geralt of fucking Rivia. Everyone's heard of him, especially other witchers. And like I said, I knew who you were when you were still Foltest's advisor. Geralt was present when I came to court." Damien chuckled to himself.
"Geralt…is doing fine. He helped me evacuate the mages from Novigrad. I'll always be gracious for that. And of course, he helped prevent the end times and such." She waved her hand, hoping to evade the rest of the question.
"Come on, we all know what happened with the Wild Hunt. I mean what happened to the Butcher of Blaviken after? I haven't heard of any great exploits of late."
"He and Yennefer have retired to a life of luxury, traveling the world." Triss stated, realizing she didn't feel as much malice in her voice as she may have had before.
"Interesting. Geralt of Rivia, retired. Well, I'm sorry to see that it didn't work out."
"It's as you said, Damien. Losing a lover can be rough. But it doesn't have to stay rough, does it?" She asked innocently, putting a hand between them.
Damien's eyes fell onto hers, and he smiled again. "No Triss, it doesn't. After all, isn't it the process of moving on that makes us human?" With that, he took her hand, and pulled her closer. She responded by blushing, and put her other hand on his shoulder.
"I suppose it does."
From afar, Beata put down the telescope. "Pay up girl." She said, as she turned to Emily, who picked up the telescope, and looked to see Damien and Triss kissing passionately as the sun finally set around them. Her face went sullen, realizing she had lost the bet.
Emily handed her the twenty crowns. "How could you know that they would fall for each other?" She wished to learn from Beata's great wisdom in the affairs of love.
"Let's just say I've heard a very interesting theory about witchers and sorceresses…"
End of Chapter Five