Geralt woke up shouting the little girl's name. Again. The dream he had was not disturbing only because he dreamt it before, just a few hours ago, but because it foreseen that Ella was in trouble. First time he dreamt it, he made Nenneke go and make sure the girl was safely sleeping. Now, the feeling she was in danger was stronger.

He looked around. There was no one in his room, which was strange. There were always Nenneke's students guarding him, or Nenneke herself. Was something happening? Was he still dreaming? He shook his head, moved his arm.

Fuck. Not dreaming then. The pain was real. His heart was racing, fever still made his body shine with sweat. He let his head fall back onto the pillow and breathed deeply. His left hand reached to his shoulder that still throbbed.

"Fuck," he cursed out loud. If the dream meant something, he was useless to do anything against it. He couldn't fight back; the inflamed shoulder made any movement almost impossible. He forced himself to get out of his bed and limp toward the door, only to find out that his door was locked.

"Dammit, Nenneke." He punched the door with a fist and growled. Little out of breath, he limped to the window. Seeing nothing out of ordinary, he limped back to bed, relieved himself and sat down. He peeked under the bandage on his shoulder with a cringe and sighed. His body was weak and healed frustratingly slowly. Holding his right arm close to his body, he lay down on his side.

Raging with irritation, he waited for anyone to come and let him out. Or inform him that there was no threat from the girl's father. Why the fuck would they lock him in? Geralt considered getting up again and breaking the door down. Luckily, before he could, there was a rustling in the door lock.

Mostly, Geralt expected Renaud Croenn to show up in the doorframe, although that was probably impossible. He expected Nenneke or Rhimi. Any of those people, he would welcome with great portion of his anger. He already began to gather strength for a scene. Instead, his expression softened. It was the little girl, Ella. The little minx was peaking in, then swiftly entered the room and with a short look into the hallway, she closed the door.

"Ella?"

"Hello Geralt," the girl showed a tentative smile and made a few steps toward him. "They wouldn't allow me to see you. I had to sneak in."

Geralt frowned, the surprise not leaving his face. The anger did though. "I see." He said, his eyes dropping on the key she was holding in her tiny hand.

"Rhimi always leaves before midday, locks the door and hides the key under the doormat. It is really silly."

"That it is," Geralt smiled slightly. "Why did you want to see me?" He recalled what she wanted from him quite well and he didn't want to decline just yet. "Do you not like it here?" He asked instead.

"No. No, that's not it," she shook her head and stepped closer to him. "Mother Nenneke said you are very sick."

"Well, I have been better." Geralt grimaced. He didn't like to be called very sick. Especially not, when it was the truth. Ella didn't seem to like his answer either, so he tilted his head and offered a smile. "And worse."

"I know you went back to my town. Did my father hurt you? And his men?"

There was guilt in the girl's eyes, and it lay heavily on Geralt's chest.

"Ella, I'll be fine. I am feeling much better already." It was the best answer he could muster. "And I should thank your friend for that." He added, hoping to lift her spirit.

"My friend?"

"Yes. The boy in Brillen. Smaller than you, brown hair, big eyes. He helped me escape."

"Oh," the girl smiled with the memory. "That must have been Felix. He is my best friend."

That was when Geralt remembered. How could he forget.

"And he sends a message for you, Ella."

Ella's eyes widened a little with excitement and she stepped even closer, now she stood just next to his bed.

"He wants you to meet him, I quote when it is safe. He said you would know where."

"Yes!" the girl exclaimed, eyes glistening. "We had a secret place near Brillen. Just a few hundred yards down the river, there is a clearing with a huge oak tree. And we built a small house on it and hid there every time my father got mad."

She was excited and Geralt was relieved she lost the gloomy expression. He cast a tired smile and told her that a treehouse sounded nice.

"When do you think it will be safe for me to go there?"

"I do not know."

"Let's hope it is sooner rather than later then."

"Let's." Geralt smiled weakly, glad she didn't fall back into sadness and didn't inquire further on the subject. Sooner rather than later, he would have to decide what to do about Renaud and the godforsaken town.

"You really look sick," Ella said, looking him over. His eyes were only thin lines now and she could read he was nearly asleep. "I'll let you sleep."

Forcing his eyes to stay open, he thanked her for the lovely visit and by the time she was locking the door again, he was asleep.

Geralt's recurring dream was intertwined with fire. Courtesy of his fever, Geralt guessed. Burning flames covered the trees in the woods where he fought off the howling beast with horns. The blaze was everywhere he looked, as if whole temerian forests were ablaze in its whole size.

It never took long for Geralt to know he was dreaming, because the fire did no damage to him. It only pained him, but his skin wasn't turning red, nor black. There was no smoke. But he couldn't escape it, he was trapped. For a while, he tried walked through the orange flame, hoping to find an end to it. At some point, the burning was too much.

Wake up, he heard himself saying. Then more voices came in.

"Long time no see…" Renaud's voice on the left.

"Well, well, here we are…" Renaud's voice on the right.

"Stop kicking you spoiled punk." An unknown voice on the left, then right as it echoed.

"Let me goooo!"

The voices were new. Was this happening now? Geralt needed to wake up. He looked up and saw Ella up on the tree. The flames did not reach her, she appeared safe. Until she jumped.

Geralt ignored the fire and slowly started making his way towards the girl, unsure whether she was fine. But he never reached her, it was as if the tree where she jumped was moving alongside with him. He ran, the tree ran with him, so he ran faster. To no avail. The flames burned him, it suddenly grew higher, brighter, and hotter.

"No!"

After miles of futile running, his lungs gave up and he had to catch a breath. Bending over, he forced burning air into his already aching lungs. When he looked at the tree again, there was no fire anymore. But no Ella either. Only her crying somewhere far in the distance.

"Ella!" The sound of his voice shouting her name woke him up again.

"That dream again?"

Geralt blinked at Rhimi who sat opposite of him, frowning. No one else was in the room.

"Yeah." Geralt rubbed his face, deciding to act. He braced himself and got out of the bed.

"Wait," Rhimi stood up with him, "what are you doing?"

"I have dreamt it three times now in one day. Something is going on."

"What?"

Rhimi caught him as he swayed, too late to realize she caught his bad arm. The witcher flinched and slipped out of her hand. Holding his arm with the other and breathing harsh, he looked at the student, his eyes carrying a look of great importance.

"What is it?" Rhimi asked.

"I think they are going for her. I think they know she's here."

"How?"

"The dream I had," he half-explained and closed his eyes. "They might be traveling here now, and I can't do a fucking thing."

Geralt let out a groan and sat back onto the bed.

"But how could that be?" the student asked with concern, sitting next to him. "How could they know she is here?"

"Where else would you go if you were sold to a bandit and ran away from him?!"

That was a good point. But there were other places to go as well, the capital one of them, plenty of small villages, and towns around Temeria.

"If Ella's father comes, we can hide her. You as well. The temple is a labyrinth."

Geralt glared at her but had no strength to explain how useless it was. Renaud had no respect and no mercy with women. He could just pick any of them and torture them until they admitted the girl was in the temple and where.

"No," he simply said and grabbed his medallion. "Fetch Nenneke. I must leave, and Ella too."

Now it was Rhimi's turn to glare. "That's… going to be an interesting conversation."

"Go," he commanded.

Rhimi shook her head. It was not her fight to fight, she went to the door. Before she reached the door handle, the door snapped open, Nenneke rushed in.

Geralt's eyes widened. He was right, something was wrong.

Tense, Geralt waited for the priestess to finally tell him what was happening. She looked around, went to the window, rolled the blinds so nobody could see inside, then finally spoke.

"Ella is gone."

"What?" the witcher asked, turning to her with a grunt. That didn't make sense. "She was just here, the last time I was awake. Locked in!"

"She saw her father nearing here and she ran away. A group of historians saw her running to the woods."

"What?! Renaud is here?"

The priestess gritted her teeth and sat at his bed. "He and his little private army are just at the stables."

"Fuck!" Geralt said and moved to stand up from the bed.

"Yes," Nenneke nodded. "Fuck. But you are staying here. In bed," she said and started forcing him against the pillows.

Geralt growled, pushed her hands away and got up again. "The hell I am."

"Geralt!" the priestess raised her voice and caught his injured arm. Geralt yelped. Were they doing this on purpose or what? "I can hide the entrance to this room. You are still sick. You have to stay here."

"And the girl, what? It will be dark in a few hours. You'd let her get lost or kidnapped by outlaws again?!" Geralt was furious. It was that adrenaline that helped him get on his feet and stay standing. His thigh hurt with stabbing pain as he stood on it with his full weight. His arm and shoulder were on fire. But he hid his discomfort in anger. "Or maybe you would like to ask Renaud to go look for her instead, huh?"

"Geralt, stop." She crossed her arms and frowned.

"No," he said resolutely. "Please, Nenneke, don't argue with me. We've been there already, and it did not end well."

"Exactly. Just don't go."

Geralt closed his eyes and released an annoyed sigh. The room spun and he had no strength to continue that argument. But he wouldn't let the little girl roam the endless forests in the area, with monsters, bandits and her foul father lurking around.

"Let me come with him then," said Rhimi, whose presence was almost forgotten in the argument. "I can continue caring for his wounds and when we find Ella, we will come back. The girl's father doesn't know me, so I can scout the roads."

Geralt and Nenneke stared at the girl. While Nenneke measured her, Geralt thought it was not a bad idea. Maybe it was a compromise that would allow Nenneke to come to terms with it. If he couldn't stay in the temple, a piece of the temple would go with him.

"So, I will have not one, but two girls and an injured witcher wandering through a chill forest." Nenneke said with a scowl, but as if it was already settled and calm.

"Come on, Nenneke," Geralt said, calmly as well. "How many men does he have with him?"

"I saw at least five," the priestess said, nervous.

"I can't stay here. He is a vile aggressor, and he could make you tell him where I am. I cannot fight them, like this. Let Rhimi come with me, if it makes you feel better, but I am leaving."

Carefully, Nenneke checked his wounds before helping him to dress. Wincing at his shoulder, she laced his shirt at the neckline only loosely and looked up at him.

"I hate letting you go, Geralt," she said. Reconciled with the fact he was leaving, she brought him his clothes and his swords as he requested. Even refilled his potions. But she was reluctant. "You still have a fever. The infection has not left your body yet and you can barely walk."

"I will ride a horse and take my medicine." Geralt assured her cynically.

Nenneke looked daggers at him.

"I will come back fine."

"You better," she said sternly. "Let me," she took his arm and held it to his torso. Then bound it so tightly, that Geralt grimaced. "If you take this sling off, I'll chop your head off."

Geralt smirked at her threat and reached for his swords. Carrying the weight, he faltered a little and had to use a support of a wall. The feat of dressing up left him exhausted and weary.

"I walk you to the backyard gate," she offered, seeing his struggle to stay upright.

"No, you have to go see him. Tell him the truth but give us some time."

"Alright," the priestess nodded. "Be careful, Geralt."

Geralt nodded back and walked out the door with the tall student behind him. They had Stelle bring them Roach to the back exit gate, so there would be no suspicion of someone leaving the temple, but they still had to take a longer path to get behind the temple walls.

When they finally reached the gate, Geralt was happier than ever to see his horse. His leg burned and probably even bled. He could feel the heat radiating from him. Fever was always getting worse with sunset and walking around didn't help either. It was going to be very jolly adventure. They both climbed to Roache's back, Geralt with less grace than he would like, and then they set to trot into the woods. In the direction of Brillen.

It was late fall, and the nights were cold already. Rhimi sat close behind the witcher and with eyes wide open, she searched between every tree branch for any friendly or unfriendly movement. The darkness fell soon after they reached the forest and the light cast by the moon was not enough for her to see far. There was no sign of Ella, and she began to worry. Not only for the girl, but for the witcher as well.

Geralt was silent and breathed heavily. His back was damp with sweat and slight shivers ran through his body once in a while. She understood by now that witcher's body could endure a lot more than human's, but she had no idea about how much more. She was sure there was no threat of him dying, but falling off Roach? Not so much.

"Dammit, Ella," she cursed in a whisper.

Geralt kept silent but stopped Roach. She felt him tense up, hold his breath, and then sagged with an exhale.

"Geralt? Are you well?" she asked.

"Keep quiet," he said and set Roach into motion again.

"I get it that talking exhausts you," Rhimi whispered, "but can you hear anything? Any signs of her? Are we even going in the right direction?"

"Quiet." He repeated with irritation.

"Well then," she said after a while. "At least warn me were you to fall off your horse."

An hour later, they still traveled at the same pace. Rhimi felt Geralt's face, pale even in the dark and clammy. And still no signs of the girl.

"Geralt, you are barely watching the road ahead," Rhimi noted. "Let us stop."

There was no response from him, but after a few more Roaches' steps, he motioned her to stop. Rhimi didn't wait and jumped off the horse immediately. Geralt went after her biting his lip as he landed painfully.

"We won't stop for long," the witcher said and limped to a tree where he sat down, totally worn out. Rhimi sat next to him, handing him a waterskin.

"Of course not. Do you know where she's headed?"

Geralt took a few sips and leaned back. "She told me about a… safe place."

"In Brillen?"

"Near it."

Rhimi looked around and pondered for a bit.

"You should get at least a few hours of rest before we set out on our way again. Ella has a few hours of head start but walks on foot. If we get there quicker than her, we might miss her. And her father, not."

Geralt glared at her.

"You need the rest."

Geralt just closed his eyes and grimaced. His leg throbbed, his shoulder throbbed, all his muscles and bones hurt and protested against his movements. He was cold, shivering, he felt unwell and nauseous. Of course, he needed fucking rest.

"You healers are always so full of reasons," Geralt said with reproach and a slight shake of his head. "You need this, you can't do that…" he continued, massaging first his thigh, then his arm. "What I need is to find the girl. If you want me to just sit here and rest, I could have as well stayed in the fucking temple."

"It's good that, as you pointed out yesterday, I am just a student. I am only half full of reasons." Rhimi retorted and got another, somewhat amused glare from the witcher.

"Why did you offer to come with me? You enjoy chill nights? Sleep on the mud?"

"What I enjoy is seeing patients get out of their sick beds. Wholesome."

"I was wrong. You already sound like Nenneke." Geralt smiled slightly at her as she rolled her eyes, and then he closed his eyes shut. "One hour," he said. Rhimi only hoped that she would have the means to wake him up.

Rhimi didn't have the means, but the witcher woke up by himself, as if he had some inner watch that worked even in his slumber. He woke up bad tempered and she had to carry the blame for the witcher now felt worse. She attempted to check on his shoulder at least but he wouldn't let her.

They walked on foot for some time, to warm up, Geralt using Roach as his support. Until one moment, when Geralt suddenly stopped and shushed all noises.

Rhimi didn't hear anything, but Geralt obviously did, because he cursed and climbed up onto the saddle.

"Come," he told her.

"What do you hear? Judging by your expression it is not Ella?"

"It's not. Come."

In a quicker pace, they continued their way to Brillen in silence. Rhimi couldn't hear any noises that would indicate they were being followed by Renaud's party. But she knew someone, most likely them, were behind them. And she wouldn't want to see the consequences of the clash with them.

Yes, Geralt still had one good arm to hold a sword in, but with his other arm restrained, lame leg and running fever, what could he do? The witcher would probably be able to move past the pain and defend himself, defend her. But what if his body just gave up?

What would she do then? Go search for Ella by herself? Take the horse and gallop back to the temple to get help? Even though she was not one to believe in gods, she begged Melitele it would not come to that. She prayed for safe return into the temple, with the girl and the witcher unharmed.

Geralt led Roach in such pace so they would keep enough distance from whoever was far behind them. He could hear them still but knew they couldn't hear or see them back. He couldn't keep focus continually, it was draining him too much, so once in a hundred yards, he forced himself to listen the remote sounds and calculate how far they were. That was it. Then he had to recover with a micro break in a semi-meditative state.

Maybe, if he had a little more energy, he would be able to sense that Ella was not that far ahead of them. West of them, only a mile ahead. But she was silent as a fox, she moved quickly and smoothly.

Very often, since she came into the temple, she watched the roads up from the walls. She was very good at climbing and it was easy enough for her to get up there.

The moment she laid eyes on a group of six men with weapons on horses, she knew she had to run. It wasn't only her father who scared her. It was Renaud's gang mostly. Those men frightened not only her but the townsfolk as well. She knew them well and she saw their violence and ruthlessness firsthand. She was lucky enough to be Renaud's daughter and a child, because so far, she was off limits. They weren't allowed to touch her. But that was going to end one day.

There was also no doubt that she would be punished after running off with the witcher and she didn't want to find out what that punishment would be. Her father always said that if she tried to run away from home, he would send his men after her and that then it was up to them what they would do to her.

The day he decided to sell her to the bandits, it was supposed to be a play. She was ought to run away from them. And if she wouldn't, Renaud threatened her with his men. That he would send them after her.

When she saw the white-haired swordsman, first, she thought it was one of his men, one she hasn't met yet. Maybe the scariest one. But when he defeated the howler, she was sure it was a witcher and her father didn't like witchers. He wouldn't employ them. He refused to hire one to kill the howler and said that he wouldn't feed a fucking mutants with coins.

The townsfolk even gathered money and wanted to pay for one themselves, but her father found out and punished them. One of them was exiled, sent into the woods into the howler's den and eventually killed by the beast. Another two were beaten.

She almost be-friended the white haired witcher; she let him take her to Melitele, a place her father despised. So, what would happen to her?

She didn't have to think twice. Once she spotted them, she climbed down on the outer side of the walls and ran off. She didn't even mind the scary journey through the deep, dark forest. Anything was better than getting caught by her father's men.

Ella walked almost the whole night with small breaks to catch her breath. The fear did not let her sleep. She was hungry and sleepy. Also cold, when she stopped, but it was still better.

When the sun rose, she knew she was close to her home and smiled happily as she reached her favorite place in a bright, green clearing with the biggest oak tree around her birthplace.

She stepped on the rickety ladder and started climbing up. Once she reached her hand to the hard floor of the tree house, someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her up. She yelped, scratched, and kicked but four strong arms held her down and tied her up. From the corner of her eyes, she saw her friend Felix, furious but tied up as well.