Chapter 3: Trouble Will Find You
Four days later
Jazz shivered and sat huddled under a large tree, what kind, she did not know for it was too dark for her to discern any telling traits. She knew that something such as this was bound to happen, though the young lady had hoped for it to happen later rather than sooner. Yet here she was, stranded in the middle of the dense forests separating Vizima and Velen, her stolen steed gone, leaving Jazz with only the items that had fallen when the horse had thrown her off in fright.
In fright of what, though, Jazz was unsure. Animals, after all, had better senses than humans, but whatever it was, Jazz had enough sense to scramble for cover after quickly gathering the fallen bag and sword. Her poor horse, Jazz wagered, would have become prey for some ghastly creature of the night. A tasty snack to be chased and played with until the hunter becomes bored and rips the equine into mincemeat.
What a lovely thought, Jazz sulked from her position on the forest floor, If whatever scared the horse off comes back, I'm in some deep shit.
When Jazz had been thrown from atop the horse, the impact, had thankfully not harmed her as much as it should have, her mind thinking to what had happened to Christopher Reeve in 1995. He was young and at the height of health, and he still became a quadriplegic. It was a morbid thought, but Jazz thanked whatever it was that she'd only gotten cut from several sharp rocks and maybe bruised her arm. Still though, I'm bleeding. Lightly, but still bleeding.
The landing had cut up any exposed skin… namely, Jazz's thighs hands, and even parts of her face. Mere flesh wounds in reality, but for a lone and defenseless woman in the middle of the forests at night, the blood was a beacon to every predator, every creature that preyed on people like her.
Shifting slightly, Jazz rummaged through the single rucksack that fell from the horse, finding several pieces of cloth to bandage the wounds on her palms and wipe away the blood on her cheek. "This is what I get for trying to brave the dark." Apart from the various clothes used to dress her wounds, there was an apple, a waterskin, and… Jazz's hand wrapped around something metallic… and sharp. "Ah!" Jazz recoiled, pulling her hand away with a hiss when the pointed object pricked her hand. A frown marred her normally passive expressions as Jazz reached back into the leather sack to pull out the metallic object.
In the darkness, where not even the moon shone through the thick clouds, Jazz could only feel the shape of the mysterious object. It was between the size of a golf ball and a tennis ball, fitting in the palm of her small hand only barely. Whilst pulling the thing from the sack, a long metal chain had slumped out, no doubt attached to whatever Jazz held in her shaking hands. Must be a necklace… or a decoration… Jazz mused, gently sliding her fingers over the object whilst sniffing the metal. Smells of iron… maybe… blood? Was it won in a battle? Five… no… six protrusions… two spiked on either side of the two curved. The curves feel like… a beak? A snout? Who'd wear a pendant that looks like a bird? It was then, that Jazz stiffened, hearing the sound of hooves impacting dirt. It sounded like a stampede and echoed seemingly all around the small woman, as she pulled herself and the stolen belongings further into the thick shadow, quickly slipping the necklace over her head to wear.
Jazz curled into a ball, knees tucked into her chest, back to the trunk of a particularly large tree, and enclosed on either side by tree roots. She was positioned on the side of the tree facing away from the road, but Jazz threw the leather bag into the shrubbery just to make sure that no part of her peeked out from the tree's protection. Then, once properly settled, Jazz clamped both her hands over her mouth, waiting for the approaching group to pass and leave.
The sound of horses came closer, loud and louder still until a hollar of, "HALT!" echoed in the trees and the gallops came to a sudden stop on the dirt path, not even ten feet away from where Jazz sat. There were a few seconds of silence where Jazz did not dare breathe, no inhale or exhale, simply frozen in place. Waiting.
Then, the sound of jiggling metal before a thud with several following. One, two, three men it seemed, had dismounted. Why? Jazz wondered, feeling as if she'd forgotten something.
"That's one of o'r swords, aw'right." Jazz froze in place when one of the men spoke, and she wanted to hit herself for forgetting to hide the sword as well. She didn't think that the people of White Orchard were willing to chase her all the way to the forests near Dorian. Such a journey was foolish, especially over a horse.
"Da tracks 'ed fur'er down 'a the road. Ya 'ink the thief dropped the silv'a s'ord?" Silver sword? Jazz blanched and felt sick to her stomach. No one from White Orchard would carry a silver blade, so whoever these men were, if they found her, she'd wish she were dead.
"I don't care. I just want my trophy back." It was a harsh voice that spoke this time. Deep, gravelly, from years of use. The pronunciation indicated someone who was actually taught to speak and read the proper way. And as much as Jazz wanted to be scared of an educated man leading a group of armed men, she couldn't bring herself to. The necklace around her neck had begun to shake, steady at first, then violently. The lady of another world finally knew what she had in her possession.
"Ya mean tha' mu'ant's pendant?" A Witcher's medallion. School of the Griffin. These men killed the witcher it belonged to. It made sense now. These men were witcher hunters… and they'd somehow taken down a witcher from the Griffin school. I knew that witcher hunters hunted and killed magic users… mages… sorceresses… the like… but to think that they'd travel south to kill a witcher of all things… Suddenly, Jazz didn't know what to be scared of more. The overzealous witcher hunters on the road, or the threat within the forest that the medallion vibrated in warning of.
"You two," Jazz moved to slowly crawl into the brush as the leader of the group started to speak, "we're searching the area."
I'll take my chances with whatever lurks in the dark. Jazz thought after weighing the two evils, continuing on her hands and knees. They're searching… but if I go slow enough… "Hey! Ah found 'em!" Ah shit! Jazz cursed in her head as she scrambled to her feet, running further into the forest, the witch hunters running and following closely behind.
"Get back here, you fucking thief!"
As much as she knew better than to speak, Jazz did, snarling as she ran, "Piss off, you cock sucker! I'm not giving the medallion back!"
"Motherfucker, 'tis a bitch!"
A laugh, "Run all you want, whore! Once we get to you, your cunt is ours!"
Nope! Jazz squinted, trying to see better in the woods. If she could lose her pursuers, it would be worth getting lost in the woods. Need to run left as soon as possible, or I'll end up running towards the Pontar. Jazz's stomach gurgled. Need food. Can't run forever. The Griffin medallion around her neck sudden shook beyond violently, and in the distance, Jazz could see a towering and lean figure emerge from the forest floor. She didn't know what it was until she heard the wolves. Turning now! The medallion had been warning her of that creature… and with its violent nature, she knew that she had to get out of the woods as soon as humanly possible.
Quickly pivoting in place, and stumbling on a raised tree root, Jazz paused to take a quick breather before sprinting back the way she came, passing the witch hunters in the blink of an eye. "Thank you for your contribution!" Jazz called as she ran past, her voice chipper despite the heavy breathing. The men had stopped running, startled that the woman they were pursuing had run back towards them. Jazz, however, didn't care to look back. A mere twenty ten seconds later, she heard the sound of screams from behind her.
Another few minutes of running later, Jazz reached the dirt path, where three mares awaited. Not stopping to breath, Jazz scrambled atop an obsidian colored mare and gripped the reins, "Ha!" With a neigh, the horse took off down the main road towards Velen.
Not even a hundred meters down the road, however, a trail of tree roots burst from the forest, stabbing Jazz's second stollen steed and bringing both mare and rider down to the dirt path in a violent tumble. When Jazz regained control of her body, she scrambled to her feet, finding that her dominant arm was twisted at an odd angle, and that her left leg hurt whenever she placed pressure on it. Liquid dripped down her face and Jazz raised her undamaged left arm to wipe at it, coming away sticky. Blood. Great. Glasses are broken as well.
A loud cry filled the forest. Inhuman, yet sentient and haunting. Then, one by one, a wolf appeared from the forest to a total of seven. Each were slightly different in color, white, timber, black, brown… And each snarled, backs hunched, mouths open, staring down the little injured human. Jazz backed away from the pack of wolves, limping slowly. Despite not running, the young woman's breathing began to quicken, a sigh of distress as her eyes flickered back and forth. She wanted to run, but Jazz knew that she wouldn't get far with her leg in such a state.
She was thoroughly fucked.
Jazz whimpered, and her face went warm as her eyes stung. And then, for the first time in nearly five days, the young woman broke, sobbing and not even noticing the unnaturally tall figure rise from the shrubbery behind her. "I wanna go home! I don't want to be in this horrible world! Let me go back!" Jazz cried and hiccuped, stepping back again, to increase the distance from the wolves. But when her back bumped into veiny bark and cloth, she turned and glanced up, acknowledging the leshen with dead and resigned eyes before leaning forward and pressing her forehead to the leshen's abdomen, crying with renewed vigor. "I don't wanna die!"
It's easy to say that Jazz should run away, or that she should have grabbed the silver sword from the dead horse and fight back. Anything besides using a leshen, a malicious forest relict creature, as a sob pillow. But the woman… no… the girl… for that was what she was in that situation, was tired, hungry, lonely, and hurt. Her will had gotten her so far, but it wasn't enough. Whether she run or fight back, Jazz knew that she was a dead woman. Violence towards creatures is often retaliated with violence, and if, on the slim chance, the leshen has an instance of kindness… Jazz would risk surrendering.
For a while, the leshen merely stood still, as if puzzled by the weeping girl touching him. "If you're going to kill me… I beg of you to make it quick."
The leshen was old, having lived in the woods around Dorian for many centuries. Few humans dared to venture into its forest, and those who did often brought harm towards the trees and the animals. And those who brought violence would receive violence in return. The villagers down the way had taken to calling it a forest guardian, as most humans mistakenly did. By all means, it was a monster, living for the kill of any who trespassed. It was why it had followed the small human as she entered its lands. Why it watched her in the dark as she was ejected from atop her steed when the mare had sensed the ekimmara that also stalked the pair. The ancient relict had stayed to watch the sole danger to its forest while the ekimmara chased after the fleeing horse. The human had overstayed its welcome, and as the leshen approached the woman as she sat in the cover of the trees, ready to slay her with roots, it was then that the other humans arrived atop steeds of their own. These humans held blades of silver and chased after the smaller human, cutting down branches and small shrubs in order to reach the defenseless human. The violence was enough to anger the ancient leshen into action, calling upon the wolves and crows of the forest to attack the men, and then to attack the woman as she sought to flee on horseback. And though it regrets killing the midnight colored mare, the leshen could not allow the woman to survive, believing that she would take to the forest with a silver blade in hand and attack.
Yet to the ancient one's surprise, the woman had merely surrendered itself, body language limp and accepting of whatever came. Submissive. Giving the leshen all the power over her fate. The voices within it, deep and primal, roared for it to kill, to slither its roots around the small and fragile body and crush its ribcage. And yet another voice purred soothingly, pleased with the submissive sensibility of the human woman. Then it purred in delight, muttering something in an ancient language that might equal to female.
Jazz's breathing hitched when she felt the leshen lay its hands on her and the echoing voice returned. The edges of her vision slowly began to go dark as the small woman struggled weakly. "Wha? Stop! What are you doing?" Jazz grunted in alarm when the leshen seemed to glow eerily, the runes on its body lighting up with some sort of magic. From merely playing the games and reading the books, Jazz only knew the leshens to be simple and malicious creatures. Never has it been recorded to be able to, for lack of a better description, glow a deep and bright green. And not knowing what was happening… it scared Jazz, as much as it scared her to die in a foreign world.
But then, as the darkness crept at the edges of her vision, Jazz heard a loud pop before her body was sent into fits and spasms of pain. "Ah!" The pain concentrated on her right shoulder, left leg, and torso, but the searing feeling that came from the leshen's touch spread throughout her entire body. It felt as if her insides were burning, and Jazz had to scream in pain, attempting to twist out of the leshen's grasp. "Stop! Please! It hurts!"
But the ancient being wouldn't listen, continuing in its work, which, to Jazz seemed like torture befitting the reputation that leshens had developed. The leshen didn't stop, not when Jazz had passed out from the pain, and not when the wolves started to feast upon the terrified mares down the road. The leshen only stopped when the sun had risen above the horizon, and it had finished what it had set out to do. With a final haunting call, the ancient being disappeared, retreating into the forest it protected, and leaving the young woman completely healed, upon the forest floor.
Those who understood the leshen's parting words shivered.
Mine. Free.
Moments later, Jazz opened her eyes, blinking the blurs in her vision away slowly and gathering her thoughts. And then, she bolted upright with a strangled gasp, sitting in the overgrown grass and feeling around her torso, then her arm, and finally her leg. She remembered the pain from being held in the leshen's grasp, being chased by the witcher hunters, getting thrown from a horse two times in one night…
"A dream?" Jazz wondered aloud, noticing that her glasses were fixed as well… and then she turned around and saw the mare carcass, now missing chunks of meat from where the wolves had feasted on the majestic creature. A gulp, and Jazz stood, "Not a dream…" her hand reached up and gripped the witcher's medallion around her neck, "The leshen let me go? And healed me?" with narrowed eyes, Jazz stood on shaky legs to loot the mare corpse, knowing that she had to get to someone who could help. "Leshens are not benevolent, it did something to me and I need to know what."
Gathering as much food into one leather pack as she could, Jazz took the silver sword laying where it fell last night, and started down the road again.
