Jaskier was a bit lost. Everything has gone wrong in a matter of seconds and he had not been ready for it.

That morning, Jaskier awoke alone and forgotten. The camp was already devoid of any life when he got up and straightened his doublet. He spent a long time trying to find the trail that the others had taken. Thinking about it, the fact that no one had bothered to wake him up was not surprising. It was clear that the dwarfs would try to play them, greedy as they were, although for some reason it seemed like they had been stuck behind just like him. However, he had expected Geralt to wake him up. That was something that the witcher had started to do recently, and with the nice conversation they had the evening before, sleeping late was not something he has been ready for. In the beginning, if Geralt had a creature to kill in the morning, he would let Jaskier sleep in for the sake of safety. By the time the bard woke up, the hunt would usually be over. Recently, however, it seemed like Geralt has decided that he was worthy of taking care of himself, and he was always awakened for hunts.

Today, no one woke him up, he was left without any kind of explanation, and Geralt had yelled at him.

Yell was a poor word for what had happened. It was more like Geralt had finally exploded after enduring Jaskier's permanent presence at his side. All his pent-up frustration had been released at the same time. Honestly, Jaskier could take critics. Had the witcher say "leave me alone for a while, I have had enough of your worthless presence. You only bring attract problems", Jaskier would have grumbled about it but he would have parted way until the coast was clear. He understood. Really. But there was nothing he could do about "If life would give me one blessing, it would be to take youoff my hands." Of course, things couldn't go well. Of course. He should have seen this one coming too. What other reason would they have to "forget" him at camp?

Jaskier did not stop at the camp to rest. He gathered his possessions and went on his way without looking back. He was above angry, he was furious. He was fuming. He would have taken on anything that would have cross his pass. Rabbit, sorceress, gryphon, vampire, even Geralt himself had he dared to try to catch up with him. His wrath pushed him forward and the journey down the mountain felt like nothing compared to the commotion of words and emotions that was happening in his head. He could feel that his pace was much faster going down than coming up, but there was nothing he could do against it. He mind was too wrapped up in his problems to notice that his feet and his breath were starting to ache.

By the time night came, he was more than halfway down the mountain already. His fury hasn't subsided, and his feet were still stomping the ground at each step. He has stopped repeating a chorus of insults over and over again in favour of trying to analyze all his conversations with Geralt, to see if he could turn his sorrow into a song. Although his honour as a musician forbids him to kill the reputation that he had taken so long to build.

When night came, Jaskier started paying more attention to his surroundings. He was trying to find a good place to put up camp when he stumbled upon a small waterfall. He approached the pond carefully intending to stop and gather water.

Right when he opened his gourd, a sort of pale light surrounded the water. Jaskier backed away but he was stopped by the vision of a woman appearing above the water. She was like a goddess sent for him. Throughout all the years he had travelled with the witcher, he never saw nor heard anything about ghost-like woman materializing above water. It didn't seem like she was either a siren or a drowner, considering that she had done nothing but stare at him for the last minutes, instead of attacking him as any good creature would.

So Jaskier mustered all the courage he had and raised his wobbly voice:

"Who are you?"

The woman looked at him some more, then bent her head the other way. She was stunning to look at. If she hadn't appeared out of anywhere in the middle of the forest after a particularly hard morning, the bard would have courted her for sure.

"I am your destiny."

"My destiny? What, are you not everyone's destiny? Or do I get a personal adviser? Something that corresponds to my need? Because I have to say, you have a very lovely..."

"Jaskier."

She did not look angry at the bard, but the smile plastered on her face wasn't warm either. Jaskier wasn't at ease. And when he was stressed, he tended to speak too much.

"Jaskier," she said, "I am Destiny. And I come bearing predictions about your future."

Jaskier didn't know if he was allowed to ask questions or not. He decided he would wait until knowing what the prediction was. Destiny, like the goddess she was, stepped down on earth in front of him, untouched by the water and radiant like a small sun. She took his hand in hers in a comforting gesture. Jaskier felt somehow both soothed and threatened by the action.

"You are destined to a great future, bard, but for this future to take hold, you have to follow the White Wolf of Rivia once more."

"WHAT?"

Even Destiny seemed unsettled at bard's answer.

"Ah, nononono my lady." Jaskier kept rambling. "I am not going back with this dalcop man. I've just got rid of him and I don't want, for anything in the world, go back to 20 years of grunts and disdain. And I'm quite sure he doesn't want that either. So, sorry, but no."

Destiny had the decency to look taken aback. Jaskier gulped for air, not believing that he could have said that at a goddess' face. Even if she was lying and wasn't destiny, she was still powerful enough to levitate above water, something that Jaskier could not do. In was not in a good position to negotiate.

"No...?" She repeated, dumbfounded.

But Jaskier was already too far gone, and he was not even considering the option. Would he go back to Geralt, the witcher would kill him before he had the chance to explain himself.

"No. We are done. I am not going back."

"... NO?"

Jaskier suddenly realized that Destiny looked furious. The hands that were holding his were warming dangerously. Her eyes were of a strange colouration, and her hair had started to hover around her. He considered lying his way back. It had saved him in the past and it would save him again since the witcher wasn't here to cut everything that threatened him anymore. He truly hoped Destiny would spare him, but it looked like everything was against him today.

"Well, wait a moment. You don't have to be... so decisive my lady. I mean, Destiny. I can... I will find an arrangement. That is definitely in my realm of possibilities. I was thinking about…"

But Destiny wasn't taking it. She still looked as crazy as Yennefer on a bad hair day. The fact that she hadn't gone back to be a beautiful mystery was bothering him. He considered the fact that he may have fucked up.

"Julian," she said, "you will go back to the witcher, would you want it or not, as such is your destiny."

Jaskier began feeling strange, but it was impossible to know if it was fear or magic that was chaining him. His body was not answering completely. He felt like he was underwater, unable to yell or to call for help, and unable to run away. Although even if he could, it was certain that Destiny could catch him easily. Her feet left the ground and she started levitating again.

"Thou will obey, and thou will learn

That Destiny is but a choice

Follow the witcher, that you must

At the expanse of your own voice"

Jaskier finally found his voice, but he could only croak a small "What?" before the strange feeling took over him again, and he was forced to back away. He knew that at this point, there was nothing he could do to save himself anymore.

"Bard, you will find your witcher again, for the sentence that will curse you will be far worse if you stay away from him."

She paused. Her slight levitation was slowly taking her to the pond again.

"I curse you to walk this earth unheard until you accept your destiny and stand by the witcher's side once more."

"Cursed? No, wait, please!"

But then, something lodged itself in his chest, and Jaskier choked on his breath. For a second, he couldn't breathe, and his mind called for Geralt with violence but, as abruptly as it came, the deep weight vanished and he could breathe again. The experience left him empty and shaking.

"Go find the witcher, bard," said the apparition, "and the curse will be broken."

In an instant, Destiny disappeared. Jaskier stayed there, alone in the middle of the woods. Even the small pond that he had stumbled upon seemed to choke and die as the water subdued to a trickle of water. He backed away. The place was too eerily silent for his liking.

Jaskier wanted to call after her, to try and get more explanations, but even if his mouth was open, the bard could not utter a single word. He raised his hand to his throat and tried speaking again, only to end up with the same result. He could breathe just fine, but any kind of sound he tried to make would end up as a blank silence.

He was panicking now. He could still feel his vocal cords moving with the words he was trying to say, but only silence answered.

He had lost his voice. Destiny had made him mute.

He was in no physical pain. The curse was magical only. He recalled the words that the strange women had said. Destiny, that Destiny had said. It was about not having a choice and about being mute for as long as he wouldn't go back on the road with Geralt.

And here was the problem. Jaskier knew that someday, inevitably, he would forgive the witcher. He was not the kind to hold grudges. They tended to hurt his soul more than the fight itself would. He could make peace with Geralt. Not today, but he could. Going back on the road with him? Never. How could he go back on the roads with him again? The witcher has made very clear why it wasn't even an option, and Jaskier could not find it in his heart and mind to inflict his incompetence to the witcher again.

Despite his anger, Geralt was right. Jaskier was useless during monster hunts. He was a safety hazard. Because of his lack of skills, he was dangerous to travel with and he was a liability for others too. He tended to make the situation turn from bad to worse just by being there. Jaskier wouldn't have himself as a road companion, so why would a witcher do?

And so, it was decided. He would get back on the roads by himself until he found a cure. If he could find one. And if he couldn't, well... he had a last resort, although he preferred not to think about it right now.

Jaskier picked up his lute and left. His mind far away, torturing him with unrealistic possibilities and ridiculous solutions.