.XVI. 30th of Birke, Belleteyn !
It was spring.
It was the end of Birke.
It was Belleteyn !
Witcher Gerd and his brother in arms, from the same venerable school of witchers, were looking for work among the green, colorful flowered hills and plains of south-western Verden. Several miles from the closest village, Valigor. Three miles from the fortress of Nastrog and a couple more from the northern bank of the Yaruga. Both Gerd and Ksander were looking to get a contract, hoping to earn enough coin to reward themselves, at the end of the day, with some warm food and a few good drinks. Before reaching the southern shores of the Yaruga, crossing into the lands of Cintra.
Work didn't seem to find them so easily these days. Contrary to their expectations, since they left the Skillige Isles a few weeks ago, accompanied by another witcher that wintered at the keep of the bear. Junod of Belhaven. Who, against Ksander's desire to accompany him and Gerd into Cintra, chose to head north, having in mind to scour for a while the lands of Temeria, Redania, Kaedwen, and then head for Kovir. For he heard that there might be plenty of work for a witcher.
Ksander and Gerd travelled together since they stepped off their ship in the port of Bremervoord, Cidaris. Since their departure from the city, they had almost no proper witcher work, besides, a grave hag and an ekimmara outside Kerack. As if the lack of work was not enough, the emptiness of their stomachs and a half empty sacks of coins made themselves noticed with each passing day.
Until one fortunate day, when, as they got closer and closer to the crossing over the Yaruga, still some way away. They had found some work, witcher work. In the village or rather town, of Valigor.
Not far from the sea and the main road the small town flourished. It's streets and alleys that ran among the huts, were filled with men and women adorning the village's huts with the decorations for Belleteyn, consisting of crowns of hawthorn, rowan, primrose and hazel. As the holyday's festivities were only a few hours away.
Merchants had their carriages stopped on the edges of the street that pierced the town, cutting it in half. Selling from exotic southern food to trinkets to clothes to enchanted amulets, creams and mixtures advertised to hold magical properties, which once applied every morning keeps one's youthful looks intact from old age. Fishermen that were selling, well fish, lobsters and shells, while not far from them a few were selling books and maps, printed in Oxenfurt. Not far from them was the stalls installed for the festivities, which were selling as if it was the 1st of Blathe.
A few steps away, was the Inn, dubbed The Lucky Squid, at which the beer and mead, vodka, dancing and music won't show any sign of stopping for at least two days. Beautiful women and girls sat at the tables with their beloved or their friends, drinking, laughing, kissing from time to time. Ksander quickly noticed them, hoping he'd be in luck to get to know one of them or several, tonight. All the while Gerd, was preoccupied with spotting the notice board, or see if one may approach them.
The witcher Gerd finally spotted the notice board and was later, approached by a woman, who seemed in a hurry to discuss her issue with the witcher. Of course Ksander's perverted way of thinking and damned eagerly, thirsty, thorough eyes couldn't unpeel themselves of the tempting beautiful lasses he carefully studied from head to toe. Smirking at every bounce of their breasts and sight of a girl's naked thigh, or when he spotted a nipple through their thin dresses.
Finally, both, had began to apply their trade...
Gerd took a contract regarding a missing fisherman and his son, not far from the village mentioned previously. While Ksander's contract was on a couple of harpies in the hills, close to the woods of Brokilon.
They both agreed to meet back at the village-town of Valigor, at The Lucky Squid, after receiving their payment.
It was late in the morning. The breeze coming from the ocean softly caressed the trees, dispersing the fog that had been settled upon the area, east, towards Brokilon.
Even though it was the beginning of summer, the temperature had been quite chilly during the mornings, while near noon it got warmer, and continued to do so until late afternoon and close to dusk.
'This might give me some cover while I look for the nest.', Ksander murmured.
The mist wasn't that thick, but, when combined with high grass, trees and bushes that were present on those hills, made it easier to approach.
The villagers mentioned that the nest should be beyond the second hill from the village, south-east. That did not help much as these hills weren't barren and covered with rocks, but with all sorts of shrubbery and little trees.
He and Gerd were glad that they found work. Harpies, were at least something, it didn't pay as good as a basilisk or a werewolf, but coin is coin. Even better welcomed on such draught, since they had not a single contract or any kind of work, after they left Kerack.
A mile from the place where he was told the nest should be, he found some old harpy kills, containing leftovers, such as bones and barely visible dried blood. Something that might direct him towards the feeding grounds.
'Huh, a few weeks old...', he said leaning from the saddle to look at the remains of food, scattered on the ground not far from the road. Suddenly his horse got spooked by something as she was sniffing the grass. 'Woah, Nymph, easy girl...', he said calming his mare, 'It's just a snake.', he continued petting the horse's neck, as the little reptile slithered away through the grass with a hiss.
He got off the saddle and led his mare by the reins as they walked a couple steps up the hill. 'Blood...', he remarked as he kneeled down, searching the ground. 'Several hours old.'.
Then, Nymph snorted as she looked toward the top of the hill as if she indicated Ksander to continue ascending it.
He continued to walk up the hill until he reached the top, where he found some more harpies. But dead, someone already slayed them.
The bodies had holes in them, one each, arrow made.
'Incredible accuracy, to take them out with one shot. Straight to the heart.', he said, inspecting the corpses. 'Elves ? Dryads ?', he continued, raising his head to look around. 'Whoever was here, left no tracks...'.
When he raised from the ground he saw one harpy gaining height from beyond the next hill. It was quickly shot and it began to fall down in the valley between the hills.
When he turned to look downhill. He saw six more harpies. And along with them a few bones and leftovers. This valley, was their feeding ground. But their nest could be either very close or very, very far.
He walked down hill to look for more clues.
'Huh, he or she took a trophy...', said the witcher, as he approached a headless corpse. 'And probably continued on, up the next hill.'.
He then moved to look at the harpy that just fell dead from the sky after being shot.
An arrow adorned with white feathers was impaled in the monster.
When he got up, a figure was watching him from the top of the hill. The one that shot the arrow, he thought.
He then continued uphill.
It nagged him the fact that there were no tracks. It could be one or a dozen elves or dryads...If he is to meet one of them or a few and get in a fight with them...
The dryads, aren't known to be fond of other people than their own. And besides the long black hair, he didn't look like an elf or a dryad at all.
As he advanced, he asked himself why would they come this far from Brokilon. It was still some distance till' the thick forest even began...
'I might try to ask them when we meet...', he joked, as he got back in the saddle.
On the other side of Verden, Gerd was advancing towards the place where the fisherman usually left his boat.
The grass filled the land left and right, while as it advanced forward towards the sea, the grass diminished in height until it totally disappeared, being replaced by the sand of the beach. The waves hit the few rocks on the shore with power turning into a furious foam. On the sky which was filled with a couple of gray clouds flew a pack of gulls, further out on the sea, a few were fishing, while the others, were making a lot of fuss on the shore.
As Gerd kept approaching the shore, to his left, a small cabin emerged from beyond a few boulders on which sat a couple of gulls. Near it was an old boat, and a few unused nets, a few buckets. A horse without a saddle but with the bridle on, appeared to be wondering on the beach near the cabin. Must've been tethered near it. Got spooked by something and untied itself, and ran, then returned when whatever caused the scare left.
While he approached more and more things began to reveal themselves. Not far from the cabin, a bit to the left was a boat, leaned on one side. The waves of the sea where hitting the boat moving it further in land. As a few crows seemed to nick something near it. He couldn't see exactly what for the beach lowered a bit in that area.
When he got near the cabin he jumped out of the saddle. Taking his mare by the reins he continued onto the shore. The horse that walked around the cabin noticed the witcher and approached him. Gerd looked for bite or claw marks on the stallion, but it had no injuries, it managed to untie itself and run before whatever was here got to him. Gerd touched the stallion's muzzle, the horse was still nervous. Then as he looked towards the boat he saw what the crows where picking on. Another horse. Dead, for some time, hours at least.
The hooves prints of the horse that ran indicated that he went east, away from the beach. This one had less luck in evading it's predator. Near it was a trail of blood, suggesting it was carried. Had bite marks near the belly, and had a chunk of skin and muscle torn off near the ribs.
The witcher then pushed the boat which had been turned upside down by the waves. In it was little blood near the front, and nothing else besides that. If someone had returned to shore there should've been tracks. Unless he walked along the coastline, in which case the tracks had been washed away by the sea, but that didn't happen. If either one of the two fishermen had survived, he would've went back to the village, east. And there would've been tracks showing that.
Gerd, raised his arm and placed his hand above his eyes, scanning the open sea from ashore. He saw nothing but gulls, and waves that turned into foam before hitting the coast.
He then turned and walked to the cabin. It might be something in it, he thought. What if someone had returned to shore, and ran in the cabin shutting the door closed after him...
'Wait for me here...', he spoke, petting the muzzle of his mare.
The cabin had been build on rocks that had been covered by sand carried by the wind in the winter. It had four stairs leading up a deck on which were present nets, barrels, planks and buckets. Near the door on a bench were resting a few fishing rods, and under it, were placed some loops of rope.
The door of the cabin wasn't locked. Inside several fishes were hanged to be dried. Others stood on a table, next to a few sharp knives, in the middle of the main chamber. They had been caught one or two days ago. There was nothing that looked fresh, not one catch from today. A few steps from the table to the right was a fireplace, and to its left a door that led into a room that had two beds in it. Near each was a candle, both half burned, sitting in a puddle of melted, dried wax.
'They left this morning. No one came back. Which means that the boat was brought to shore empty by the waves. They were attacked out on the sea...', said Gerd to himself, as he slid his fingers over the dried wax on the cabinet near one of the beds.
Ksander, The Witcher, was following the little marks and patches in the grass he noticed from the saddle of his mare, and a trail of corpses. No tracks, beside the dead harpies.
In places that the grass was taller he noticed certain areas through were someone might've passed. It could've been a deer or a boar. The trees of Brokilon began to appear as he kept walking east. He kept doing so for more than an hour now.
And still no sign of the nest. It started to become irritating.
He also thought that maybe the elves or whatever shot down the harpies had already reached the nest. He also was sure that they had come from east to west. Leaving no harpy alive. If so, they must've reach the nest. The last corpse he had seen was freshly killed and the blood was still warm, proving his previous theory right. The more he advanced east, the closer he got to the one that shot down the harpies.
Soon, as he reached the top of another hill he saw the nest. And the ones that killed the harpies. Elves. To Ksander, this happened to be a relief, as they were not Dryads from Brokilon. However, by their number, it seemed that they probably had a camp somewhere near.
Ksander climbed down from the saddle and walked towards them. From near a couple of bushes appeared an elf-woman, taking a arrow out of the corpse of a harpy. She quickly raised her bow and with her left hand picked an arrow from her quiver.
Nymph, stopped and snorted. Ksander too.
'I don't want any trouble.', replied Ksander, showing his hand. 'I'm hunting the harpies as well.'.
She didn't respond, nor did she lower her bow.
'I'm a witcher-'.
'I know what you are !', she spoke. 'What is it that you want ?'
'I took a contract on these harpies. It seems you've done my work.', he said.
The elf frowned. 'So ?'.
'Nothing, I don't have a problem with that.'.
'Then be on your way !'.
'I must know that there are no more harpies in the area.'.
'There aren't. We shot them down.'.
'Is this your arrow ?', asked the witcher, pulling the arrow out of a pocket, from the saddle.
'Yes.', she answered. 'Give it back.'.
'Sure.'. he said, throwing the arrow at her feet.
She was young, at least she looked so, she could've been older than he is, he thought. She had big green eyes and golden hair. She was thin, but looked strong. She kept biting her lower lip. She was beautiful, considered Ksander.
She didn't seem like she would let him check the nest. She didn't trust him. He understood that.
'At least burn the nest after you make sure all of them are dead. Alright ?'.
She replied with a nod.
'I'll need to take something, as proof.'.
She lowered her bow and leaned right. 'Here.', she said, throwing the head of a harpy at Ksander's feet, then aimed her bow at the witcher again.
'Thanks.'. He then placed the head in a bag, and hanged it on the left side of the saddle. 'I'll go now.', he continued, taking one last look at the elf-woman. 'Farewell.'.
She nodded, and looked without lowering her bow, as he got up in the saddle, and walked up to the top, until he passed beyond it.
Gerd found nothing of importance near or inside the cabin, so he decided to get out and ride along the coast to see if the flux didn't bring anything back from the sea. As he walked out of the cabin and off the deck, he noticed his mare had her head high up and was looking towards the sea, and kept digging in the sand with her front hoof, as he approached she looked at him then back to the foamy sea.
Yyn, snorted.
'What are you seeing, girl ?', said Gerd petting her neck.
Then he took a look for himself. Something big was flying towards the shore. Fast.
'Forktail !', he grunted slapping his mare's back. 'Run, Yyn. Dammit. Run !'.
It turned, wanting to follow the mare, but Gerd used his Aard sign and made it to change direction, causing it to land.
The beast landed with great speed and a high pitched shriek, blowing the sand under it, in all directions. Then it charged towards the witcher and right when it reached Gerd it turned, trying to hit him with its tail. Gerd rolled back and casted the sign of Aard once more. Making the forktail move to its right side and loose balance, at the same time Gerd charged, managing a cut near the head of the monster before it regained balance and attempted to bite.
It shrieked again, this time even louder then the last, clutching its mouth shut, then opened it once again and took a leap. Helped by the flapping of its wings it flew forward, toward the witcher, who leapt on one side and as the monster past him. He wanted to try a diagonal slash, but had to jump back, for the forktail made a one hundred and eighty turn swinging, dangling its tail, followed by another screech.
The witcher had the sword in both hands, holding it up near his chest, pointed at the monster, moving to the left, circling the draconid.
It stared at the witcher as it mirrored his movement, taking part in his dance, slowly stepping in a circle, presenting its talons, screeching and hissing.
With great speed it leapt once again, this time trying to grab Gerd between its razor sharp, foot talons. The witcher moved to his right side and casted the sign of Aard, making the forktail to fall on its side, while Gerd with one slash struck the monster across its thorax and its left wing. He quickly anticipated the monster's reaction and casted the sign of Quen. The tail of the draconid hit Gerd on his right side, while he turned the momentum given on a roll and managed to get back on his feet, quickly. And then casted the sign of Aard again, the forktail fell on its back. Yet, when the witcher approached it turned and swung its tail once again.
This time though, instead of charging, it quickly ran towards the foamy sea, screeching as it flapped its wings, attempting to flee.
'You're not gettin' away !', growled the witcher, watching as the forktail was flying straight towards the horizon. As soon as he saw it turn, flying along the coast, he whistled. Yyn, his mare ran as quick as she could towards the witcher. Who jumped in the saddle in pursuit of the monster along the shore.
The forktail began to approach the shore as it leaned on its left side, dripping blood from its left wing. Meaning, it couldn't keep on flying like that much longer.
The beast managed to fly at the same height for a few more minutes along the shore then descended with a shriek. Not far from a few cliffs and rock formations, cut by the sea's violent waves which were braking with a loud churn, turning into a pudgy foam. As east of them was a scarce forest, which hugged the cliffs.
The den, thought the witcher. As he shook the rains of his mare, galloping at full speed, along the shore. Creating a trail of floating sand crystals behind him. Yyn shook her head and neighed as she raced the beast to it's den. With the sea at her right and the green grass to her left and the sand beneath her hooves. She gained speed, the beach echoed as she struck the sand with her hooves.
He soon reached the cliffs, while the forktail remained behind as it kept on descending, and shrieking due to the injury to it's wing.
On those cliffs, Gerd had located as he previously thought, the forktail's den.
As he approached he saw the forktail's young ones. Around two weeks old. Near them, two bodies, half eaten. The fisherman and his son. Several hours dead.
Gerd quickly dismounted from the saddle as the forktail approached the nest. It was weakened. It had lost a lot of blood. As it didn't manage to even land properly, plunging head first only a few steps from the nest. It remained down. It couldn't gather the power to lift itself from the ground. Each time it tried, the forktail fell back down. Hissing and shrieking.
Gerd took his silver sword out of the scabbard, and grabbed it with both his hands, striking the monsters neck, chopping the head of the forktail clean off. He then proceeded toward the young ones. And stabbed each in the thorax.
He then looked at the two corpses. From the wounds and the look of the bodies. The son was still alive when the forktail brought him to the nest while his father died on their way here. The fisherman's son, died while the little ones where feeding. Horrible way to go.
By the time Gerd got back to the town of Valigor, a few bonfires were already lit, the flames crackling, hissing and sizzling, with passion.
He soon approached the hut of the contract issuer.
'Witcher !', spoke the woman, as she saw the witcher approach the hut, walking across the road from the hut on the other side. Her face slowly turned pale when she saw no one else but him. 'They're dead, aren't they ?', she continued with a low voice. 'What killed them ?'.
'A forktail. Took them while they were fishing this morning.'.
'I knew something had happened...', her voice began to brake, two tears ran down her face. 'I knew it. They never been late. Never. I've lost yet another brother...'. she wiped the tears with her hand, then sighed. 'Well...', she continued, wiping her tears. 'Thank you for avenging them, and cuttin' that beast down. You surely saved others from having a similar fate. Here's your reward.', she said pressing her lips, and sniffing. 'What about their remains ? Was...Is there anything left ? I want to give them a proper burial.'.
'They're up on the cliff near the hills, south of the cabin.'.
'That cursed place. I'll send my husband and his brother to bring them home. Thank you.', she replied, with a sigh.
'Farewell.', Gerd said, with a nod, then left the front yard of the woman's hut. Heading towards The Lucky Squid Inn.
'Gerd ! Here !'. Yelled Ksander, waving. As he had found a table, which was filled with food, and drinks.
'Hey...', said Gerd as he sat down across the table. 'Got any coin ?'.
'Sure did.', replied Ksander, proudly presenting Gerd his pouch of ducats. 'You ?'.
'Same.', he answered placing his pouch on the table as well.
'Well, this ought to be enough for at least a week. Don't you think ?'.
Gerd nodded.
'Hah !', yelled Ksander, raising his hand, holding a tankard of beer. 'For further good fortune !',
Gerd did the same, then both gulped down the contents.
As the dusk approached.
The few remaining unlit bonfires began to be lighted one by one.
The fire crackled and sizzled with power and passion.
Gerd was alone.
For Ksander had left to find some lass or lasses he could be with during the night of Belleteyn, and suggested Gerd, to do the same.
As Gerd stood up from the table he noticed a familiar face at one of the tables not far from his.
She noticed his gaze and gazed back at him, smiling. It was the witcheress, Ayanna of Liddertal.
Gerd hadn't seen her in some years. More exactly, since the first time they met, during the job he was invited to do with her and Letho of Gulet, in Nilfgaard.
She did not change one bit. Gerd thought. She wore a black cloak, and under it, from what he noticed, she wore a black shirt unbuttoned near the top half, no armor, beyond which, hanged, a few fingers above her breasts, the medallion from her witcher guild. Her hair was loose, pushed behind her right ear, black, curled towards the tips.
He thought of going to her table, but quickly abandoned that thought. She had not been too fond of him, back then. Ksander would've gone to the conclusion that she had found no interest of having sexual encounters with any men. Making her the kind of woman that was attracted by the representatives of her sex. But, from all the things Ksander spew, a very few, one should take as advice.
Thus, instead of wasting her time and his with pointless, trivial discussions that would bore her to death. He left her be. And went behind the Inn to relive himself.
While he drained his bladder, from all the vodka, beer and other alcoholic beverages he ingested. His mind kept sliding to whatever he didn't want to think about. Ayanna, being one of them.
'That's why I don't drink.', he muttered to himself, going back to the table.
As he reached the table, and sat down, he poured himself some more mead.
'Gerd.', a soft voice came from the left, as a light hand fell on his left shoulder.
He turned. 'Yes...'.
It was her.
She smiled.
'It's nice to see you.', she added, with a charming smile. 'May I join you ?'.
Gerd nodded. As she sat down next to him at the table.
'Same.', he replied, turning towards her. 'What are you doing around these parts ?'.
'Work, mostly...', she said. 'But, if you ask anyone else, they would say I just waste time. As I've been traveling with a group of elves for several weeks now.', she continued, braking a boiled potato and taking a small slice to her mouth. 'One of them, mentioned to have seen a witcher, who wore a bear medallion. I don't know any other witcher from the school of the bear, but you.'.
'It wasn't me.'.
'I know.', she replied, smiling. 'You were hunting a forktail near the coast.'.
'The elves told you that ?'.
'No. Heard people talk about it.', she smiled, as her eyes looked straight into Gerd's without hesitation of looking away. 'I heard only rumors about you throughout the years. Some said you died, during a job near Vengerberg. Good to know you haven't.'.
'Well...It took me some time to recover.', he replied, then drank from the tankard. 'How about you ? Haven't heard much...'.
She chuckled. 'I'd rather talk about the beast that almost killed you...'.
'The rumors didn't mention ?'.
'You see...', she began turning on the bench, then leaned towards him. 'They say different things. One says that it was a bruxa, another a foul dragon, and my favorite...A knight in shining armor, serving under the duchess of Toussaint, seeking justice in the name of a fair maid, whose honor you've wounded. So, which one is true ?'.
'Neither.', Gerd answered, taking another sip from the tankard. 'It was but a mere archgriffin, a female. Which I tried to kill, but a daft knight believed it was cursed. As he had a hypothesis built on a soothsaying given by an old wench as a young boy. Who foretold the he'd cross paths with love, at heart a young woman, yet at shape, her human form would be cursed, into a winged creature, between the likes of an eagle and a lion. Thus, he insisted that the archgriffin was the result of a curse, which he wanted to lift as it was his destiny to free the young maid trapped within. I refused, saying that I didn't give a shit about his destiny, thus I had to fight the archgriffin while trying not to kill the knight, who in turn, tried to kill me. So...'.
'You've slayed the beast and the knight almost slayed you ?', she asked, while flaying off a thin slice of cooked meat from the upper lair of a chicken's breast.
'Not really...As the knight further insisted, that the archgriffin won't harm us if we lay down our weapons, positioning himself between me and the archgriffin. Pleading for forgiveness, as he dropped his sword. At which time, the archgriffin let out a high pitched cry and charged, the daft knight in his tin armor pissed himself or simply didn't move, and the archgriffin sunk its talons through the knight's torso, then slammed his corpse against a tree.'.
'And ?', she added, washing down the chicken breast with wine.
'The damned thing spat acid, I rolled, it charged, one of the claws ripped my shoulder pad, and messed my left shoulder pretty nicely...', Gerd replied.
'Well, I must say, that the rumors are far more entertaining. And slightly more amusing.', she said with a sigh, biting from the other half of the boiled potato.
'Most of times they are...'.
She smiled. 'I am surprised you didn't ask me about it, yet.'.
'Ask about what exactly ?'.
She softly chuckled. 'Why am I traveling with a band of elves...'.
'It's not as if I didn't want to, but alright...Why are you traveling with a band of elves ?', Gerd asked with a snicker.
'Well, to waste the time...', she replied, taking another sip from her tankard. 'Mostly...'.
'Is it a contract ? Elves rarely hire witchers, at least in my experience...'.
'No.', Ayanna replied, taking another bite from the boiled potato. 'I know some of them. They're friends...', she continued, while Gerd reached for a chicken leg.
'I been meaning to ask...', Gerd said, before taking a bite from the chicken leg. 'Is there any witcher work, down south ?'.
'Haven't heard, but there must be, some witcher work...'.
'Didn't you and the elves travel from south ?'.
'We did...But, I didn't look for any kind of witcher related work.'.
'So you're retired ? What happened ?', he subtly joked.
She let out a gentle sigh. 'Nothing. I just...Found the life on the path rather dull in the last couple of years. I don't know how you do it. How can you just Walk the Path, year after year, day after day, and remain sane.', she scoffed, looking towards the left side of the Inn, where a couple of young men and women, attempted to set alight a bonfire, then turned to Gerd. 'Didn't you ever wish to make something else of yourself ? Something other than a witcher ?'.
'Haven't really gave it a thought to be honest. Besides, become what ?'.
'Anything really. Anything but a witcher. I mean all that coin you hoard for better gear, could buy you a home. A farm. Something to call yours, something other then swords and armor...', she said, gazing into Gerd's eyes. 'You've never thought about that ? Never wondered what else could you do ?'.
'No.'.
She chuckled, biting her lower lip.
'Ayanna. I get it.', he continued, placing his hand over hers. 'It's different for you. The life of a witcher, isn't as fulfilling for you, as it is for me, or any other witcher from your guild. And it can't be. And you don't have to do it if you don't want to, and that's fine. Don't beat yourself over it, honestly, it isn't worth it.'.
She didn't look away, nor did she move her hand away from his.
'One's search for purpose in life, it's a difficult task nonetheless. For me being a witcher, liberates me from ever having such concerns. I'm good at it. How many people can say their good at something and actually mean it ? A handful, perhaps, and most do it because of their arrogance. In truth I don't know if any of them mean it. But a witcher, is either efficient or incompetent. The difference is the latter ends up dead. Ayanna, you are unique. You lack certain mutations, yet you're still as efficient...', he resumed, as he moved his hand away, then drank from the tankard. 'If you ask me, you're free to do whatever you want. Yet, the most difficult part is, finding out what you need.'.
'But, I wanted this...I wanted to go through the administration of mutagens. Through the pain, and the excessive training. I wanted the life of a witcher...', she began, with a sigh. 'And now I started to resent it. Even wish I hadn't chose to go through all of it. Which would mean, I'd rather choose death over being a witcher...'.
'You were a child. Of course you wanted to live, to learn and to see what else this world can offer.', Gerd replied, gazing into her eyes, which were filling up with tears. 'I recall being curious as well. Even though, I tried skipping the daily and dull sword and bestiary lessons, which Mousar punished with even more sign, stance and dummy practice, which I tried blowing off as well. Which in turn, he used to discipline with a couple of strong whacks over the head and a dense lecture.'.
She chuckled, as then a tear escaped her grasp, and rolled down her left cheek.
They didn't say anything for a while. Music and laughs, the sizzling of the trees and the roar of the bonfires played tirelessly in the night and around them.
'So...Are you having any plans for tonight ?', asked Gerd, gazing upon her.
She chuckled, pushing a few locks of hair behind her ear.
'How did you- Hm. No, I do not.', she responded after a while.
'It's close to dusk.', said Gerd, turning his head looking at the orange disc that was close to touch the horizon. 'Come with me.'.
'Where ?', she asked standing up, while Gerd took three bottles from the table.
'For a walk. Grab two more bottles.'.
Gerd moved through the busy streets of the town towards the stables where his mare was. Ayanna with one bottle of vodka and another of wine, was following behind him.
The music rang loudly on the street leading to the stables. Girls, women and men were dancing around the bonfires, that crackled with great flames. For, it was the holyday in which was celebrated the return of summer, lust, passion, and love.
It was the Last Day of Birke and the First Night of Blathe.
It was Belleteyn.
The yells of joy where echoing far from the town, on the hills around, bonfires burned with might and pride, their flames where vicious, raising high towards the sky. On which a few stars along with a dim figure of the moon, began to show, as the sun kept descending beyond the horizon.
Gerd quickly saddled his mare and took her out of the stable. Jumped on the saddle and extended his hand to Ayanna. 'Come on. Get up.'. She took Gerd's hand and climbed in the saddle.
'Where are we going ?', she asked as they left the Valigor's hills.
'The sea. I want you to see the dusk there.', he answered, shaking the reins.
As they bolted on the back of Yyn, through the trees and the grass that filled the fields west of Valigor.
Finally, they got out of the grass lands and reached the shore of the Great Sea.
Seagulls slid their claws through the water.
As the red sun was half sunk into the deep red, foamy sea.
The waves grew calm all of a sudden.
They sat down on a blanket Gerd took from the saddle, and placed it upon the sand. Watching as the waves ruptured against the shore. They sat like that for a while. In silence. Only the gulls squeaks and the sound of the waves were present.
'I used to watch the sundown each night, back at the Keep. It always calmed me. It's sight.', he began, without taking his eyes away from the horizon. Nor did she. 'I can only imagine how you feel...'.
She sluggishly moved her eyes and looked down at her hands. 'I know.'.
They remained silent after that for a while.
The waves kept bashing against the rocks ashore, and the sun kept sinking into the sea, the gulls kept squawking and the soft breeze kept on blowing.
She moved closer to Gerd, and leaned her head on his shoulder.
Taking his palm into hers.
'I got to like you, in the end...', she said, almost whispered. 'Back then. I didn't tell you. I had no idea what you thought of me. I should've told you.'.
'I didn't deserve it. Not back then. I was troubled. I had things to figure out.'.
She didn't respond, he set his eyes on her. He noticed that she gently frowned. A black lock of hair slid down from her shoulder. Her jaw muscles tensed. Her eyes were cold, sharp. She looked down, again.
'What about now ? Have you figured your things out ?', she asked, raising her eyes, watching the sea.
He felt her every breath. Probably her heart beat too.
'I, do not know. Age, alone. Doesn't bear gifts of wisdom. But it offers perspective.'.
She was silent.
Her palm began to sweat.
'Yes or no ?', she asked looking toward the sea.
Gerd turned his head. He felt her warm breath on his face. His right hand moved to touch her thigh, and advanced upwards to her hip. While her right hand moved to his cheek and gently proceeded towards the back of his head. He softly touched his lips to hers. Her breath quickened. While her left hand began to unbutton Gerd's jacket, as she leaned on her back as Gerd's left hand took off her shirt. Her skin gave a sensual scent and tasted sweet. Her pale, blue eyes glittered in the semi-darkness. She closed her eyes. As Gerd moved his hand down her neck, following the chain of her medallion. Moving her shirt aside, his attention shifted, as he cupped her right breast in his hand. All the while his lips lowered from hers, downwards, with gentle kisses down her neck, shoulders, and breasts, as she let out a soft moan.
A few good minutes later, silence. The gulls left, the sun had completely set, and the stars shined above them. Only the sound of the waves remained.
She stood on her left side with her head on Gerd's shoulder. With his right arm arched around her back.
Naked. Covered by the blanket. Looking at the stars.
This is a short story, a memory, let's say. And a 'special', to celebrate the 30th of Birke/April.
Thank You !