Gajeel coughed in surprise as he fell, face first, into the grass. His hands searched quickly, frantically, for… well he didn't know what he was reaching for. One moment he had been in the refugee camp and the next he was swallowed up into a black malestrom. The tug of the sorceress on his chest had disappeared at some point, and he found his stomach in his throat, all senses caught in a headspin with nothing to hold onto.
Then he was on solid ground, somewhere completely different. He could count on one hand how many times he had gone through portals in the past, and as he rolled over, gasping for air, he remembered why he had sworn to never do it again the last time. If he could help it.
"Lily!" Gajeel called out gruffly as he pushed himself upright and sheathed his steel blade on his back. There was no reply at first, then he heard branches snapping and another loud thud… followed by very familiar groaning.
"Bloody… sorceresses!" he heard his friend curse from somewhere in the nearby wood, and moments later the older Witcher stumbled out, trying to get his bearings back. He staggered and fell sideways against a tree, swallowing hard. "What… the hell, happened back there?" Lily growled at his friend, who remained on the ground. Far more affected by the portal than he.
Gajeel shook his head, just as baffled. He opened his mouth to reply, but sounds elsewhere drew his attention.
"I'm sorry," the blue-haired mage emerged, her only dishevelment being that which had already been given to her at the camp, but exhaustion was clear on her face. The Witchers could barely see her sides moving-heaving-under the slightly baggy tunic. She pushed some hair from her face and leaned forward to pat some dust from her soft leather trousers, which comfortably hugged her legs. "It would have been a smoother ride but I was in a hurry, and I'm not used to teleporting others with me…" The mage trailed off, something else bothering her. It shouldn't have been that hard for her, but her last ditch attack and teleport had taken a substantial amount of stamina from her.
"We would have rathered you didn't," Lily remarked, and Gajeel was halfway inclined to agree with him.
Levy shot him a look, "Oh I'm sorry, I generally assume that people would rather not be stuck in the situation you were. I recall you being quite vocal about leaving it."
"It seems we were only in it because of you," Lily replied, "Either Radovid has gotten bolder or he just wants you so badly that he'd send troops into Nilfgaardian territory for you. With no promise the Black Ones would even let them back out."
The mage was quiet for a moment, averting her gaze. That thought had come to her the moment she heard they were coming for her. And while she wanted to believe the Redanians were reckless, she wasn't foolish enough to settle on that answer. There were parties on both sides of the war that sought to benefit from capturing the remaining members of the Lodge, and the only logical answer was that there had to have been some kind of deal struck, with her as a prize or bargaining chip.
"You're in the Lodge, aren't you?" Lily pressed, scrutinizing her. Gajeel's gaze flicked between the two; he had come to the same conclusion after he met her the first time, but it was on a hunch. Lily had been given much more evidence. "There's no other reason why the troops would bother with a mage so far south."
"There is no Lodge anymore," Levy replied, tight lipped and even-toned. And there won't be anyone left of it at this rate. If they know where I am… that I'm still alive…
The older witcher huffed and crossed his arms, but Gajeel took a hard step forward. "Back down, Lil," Gajeel finally found his words, pulling himself to his feet and dusting off his dark armor as he glanced around them. "The real question right now is, where are we?"
Levy, lifted out of her thoughts, looked to Gajeel now. "Somewhere near Mulbrydale. I tried to get us as far north as possible but, you two are heavy," she smiled, a tiny offering to the tension between the three. It did little.
The two Witchers glanced to each other, incredulously, and the first thing Lily could think to say was, "My horse."
There was a beat of silence before the sorceress rolled her eyes, "That's your concern?" By the look on Gajeel's face, he agreed.
"A good horse is hard to come by. And ours are the best," Gajeel replied, "Mine can outrun a pack of wolves easy." Lily nodded quickly, knowing his own horse had equal talents. Both were thoroughbred and they had acquired them as rewards from different contracts years past.
Levy crinkled her nose and stood back from the two. She didn't know what she had expected after bothering to help the them, but she was more than used to the scrutiny against sorceresses. She had hoped with the equal discrimination and ghost stories about Witchers that they might have been more open to her. However, none of that mattered in the end, because she had managed to escape the threat for now, but was faced with a new challenge. "So you will go back for them?"
"I will," Lily responded, glancing to Gajeel as though he expected him to answer differently. "We failed quite miserably at the camp, I would prefer to not have lost everything today." What he didn't say was that he wished to see if anyone had survived, and if the area could be rebuilt in any way. The older Witcher studied the small mage for a moment, before finally sighing. "Thank you. For pulling us out of there." It was a reluctant offering, but he couldn't in good conscience not thank her. But it was clear to him that she was far more trouble than it was worth, and with that he turned to leave, and beckoned Gajeel to follow him. The black-haired Witcher did not move immediately, still studying the mage.
He wanted to say more to her, to stay, to ask if she was alright, but he had no reason to. He had every reason to leave with Lily. And after a moment, he loosed a breath and started to turn.
"Wait," Levy said, before realizing. I can't go back. I knew I would only be able to stay there for a short time but… now it's different. They know it was me. They know I didn't die that day. She looked to them both, knowing which one would be more agreeable already. "Another contract."
Both paused, lifting their brows. Gajeel glanced to Lily, then back to her. There might be the reason.
"You're not gonna go back to Midcopse after what happened; so what've you got to pay with?" Gajeel asked.
The woman sighed, knowing secrecy did her little good at this point. "Midcopse was not my only home, and it was not where I kept all my belongings. I brought some of my books with me, but I have kept the rest of my property hidden elsewhere, with a friend. Along with the rest of my money. I can pay more than I did for the Fiend."
Gajeel looked to Lily, who still looked skeptical. But, with their last venture failing so spectacularly, it might not hurt. "What is the contract?" Gajeel asked, looking more interested than he might have intended.
"I need to get to my friend in Novigrad," she said simply. "And I need an escort."
"Why not teleport then? You're quite good with that," Lily queried, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
Levy sighed, "Because I don't have the strength. Getting us out here drained a lot from me and I need to save my energy," she paused, neglecting to mention that her magic felt very different. Did they feed me something? As a backup plan? "Especially if I am going to try to get into the city," she finished. She could figure out the 'what' later, but she needed to get to the city first.
"And your friend is…?" Lily asked, his tone loaded. He already had an idea: another member of the Lodge. Levy did not answer him, which gave him the confirmation he needed. "I'd rather not get-"
"I'll do it."
Both Levy and Lily looked to Gajeel quickly, who looked completely resolved to his decision. Levy smiled, an air of relief on her face, but Lily quickly stepped up to his friend and took him by the shoulder. "Are you sure?" he whispered, "Gajeel, you do not want to be between the Lodge and this war."
The black-haired Witcher met his gaze, yellow eyes glimmering, "I'm sick of not sleepin'," he replied, tone equally low. Lily lifted his bows, understanding what he meant.
Those dreams had plagued him for weeks, and in every one it seemed like she was calling out to him. Trying to reach him. And then he finds her trapped in that camp? He hated the idea of fate, or anything of that nature, but there was something that had brought him to her; twice. The least he could do was see this contract through.
"Then it is yours. I'll return for our horses, and to see what's left of the camp. I'll meet up with you eventually," Lily said, before looking to the mage, "Best of luck to you." She couldn't tell if he was being sincere, but he shot a look of 'be careful' to his friend, before turning from them both.
Levy watching him leave, then looked to Gajeel, "Thank you. I know it is not a small request, nor is it… what you usually do."
"It's a contract," Gajeel shrugged. It was more than that, he could feel that it was more than that. But he had only met her twice, and he was now bound by his word to provide her safe passage.
Levy raised her hand in front of her face, before sweeping it downward. The filth of her imprisonment disappeared from her clothing, but she didn't bother to heal her minor injuries. Over her shoulders a large, navy blue cloak appeared, fastened over the neckline of her yellow tunic with a wing-shaped broach. She wavered slightly, loosing a breath, I could feel even that...when it should be nothing. She reached up and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head; she needed to at least try to hide her identity on the way and she wasn't exactly inconspicuous.
"We should be able to secure a horse in Mulbrydale," Gajeel remarked, trying not to stare, "Novigrad is a long way on foot."
She didn't love the idea, knowing how much the poor village already struggled, but nodded slowly. "I'll leave that to you."
"Did you at least pay for it?"
"I'm a Witcher not a degenerate. I don't actually like stealing from the poor; of course I paid for it," Gajeel replied from behind her. The village was slowly fading from view behind them as the horse ambled down the dirt path. The Witcher did the best he could to ignore how close they were, with the small sorceress somehow fitting into the saddle in front of him. He could still smell the lavender on her.
Levy sighed, keeping her spine stiff to avoid touching him as much as possible, but it wasn't entirely avoidable, as their thighs brushed against one another. "Was there… not a second horse?"
"It was their last one. They wouldn't sell it." He understood what she implied with the question, and he too would have preferred a second mount, if not for propriety then at least for comfort. Sitting so stiffly for the both of them was not an ideal way to spend a trip of any length.
Levy didn't answer him, and kept her eyes ahead. The road was empty except for the occasional traveller, who barely deigned them with a glance. Too many of their own troubles to deal with. There had been no signs of her pursuers. But she knew the farther North they got, the less that would ring true. She was headed into the enemy territory for the sake of a friend. Hopefully more than one. If she had kept her megascope, she could have tried to reach them that way, but it was ultimately too risky to have something like that in Midcopse. The books were a danger enough; she would lament the loss of those, but at least the most valuable of her grimoires were in Novigrad.
At least, she hoped so. She hadn't heard from any of the Lodge since Levy had left Novigrad behind. Some even long before then; there were those who refused to speak to them to avoid drawing any more attention, and then those who just… disappeared entirely. The witch hunts had gained such traction with Radovid's underhanded encouragement and the Church of the Eternal Fire had surged to power and reverence that kept everyone of their kind in hiding. The mages were a dying race.
Though Levy had some illusions under her belt, she did not have the skill for polymorphy that her friend had; it made sense for her to at least try to stay behind in Novigrad, but not Levy. She felt she could do more good in the swamps, where people suffered out of sight.
"What's the real reason ya can't get yourself to the city? Did well enough back in the camp," the Witcher broke the tense silence again. He could see her shoulders slump a little, but when she brushed against his chest, she sat straight again.
"What I did at the camp was all I had left, and it should have been more. Dimeritium shackles alone don't have such lasting effects; I suspect they were feeding me something to keep me weak," she paused, "It should be temporary, I don't know of anything that will last more than a few days."
They were poisoning her then. In case she was strong enough to get out of the shackles. He'd heard of it before, mages who were powerful enough to bypass the effects of dimeritium. Did they think she could have been that powerful? Time would have to show, but they had a different objective to focus on. "Do you have a plan for getting into Novigrad? Or across the bridge? The border station is not far off," Gajeel broke her from her thoughts.
Levy shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "I had not planned to head back so soon. I don't have it all worked out, but I do know that there are always those we can secure passes from ahead of the bridge. And just hope that word of my escape hasn't spread this far yet." The Redanians had taken over the most accessible crossing over the Pontar, and she already knew the border post would be their first hurdle. The Redanians vetted everyone that crossed through, and these days you needed passes to get across the river. Once they got that far, getting to her friend's residence in Novigrad would be the easy part. Hopefully.
Gajeel sighed, wondering now why he had agreed to this. "Ya know, if this is the kind of contract that involves me fighting tooth and nail all the way t' Novigrad, that's extra."
Levy laughed a little then, turning her head to peek over her shoulder from beneath the hood. "While I appreciate the implication that you would, I don't expect that of you. Rest assured. Just because I don't have a full plan does not mean I am incapable." She was talking away her doubts as much as she was his. "I will get us across the border, and into the city. If we run into any complications, that is where you come in."
Gajeel hummed the affirmative after a moment, and heeled the sides of the grey mare to urge her forward. "Why would your friend choose Novigrad of all places? Why not Kovir? Or anywhere but the heart of the witch hunts."
The mage was quiet for a moment, her words stalled by long practiced secret guarding. "I thought Witchers were supposed to be the quiet type," she elected to tease first.
"Rumor," he quipped with a small smirk.
She smiled slightly, "She wanted to help people. In defiance of the now infamous Pyres of Novigrad-" she gestured in front of her to try and mime them, "-she was convinced she could smuggle people out. Doing that and keeping hold of all our effects, despite the danger, is a smack in the face to the witch hunters." The sorceress paused for a moment, and sighed heavily, "A life of hiding can very quickly lose all its meaning unless you do something about it."
Gajeel had no reply for that, and instead took note of the fact that the landscape had started to change. He had been through this way before multiple times, but had since lost his previous passes. Still, he recognized the change; the closer they got to the Redanian station, the fewer trees were left standing. Many had been cut down for their wood, and primarily cleared out for sentries to see all who came long before they reached the bridge. For him, trying to smuggle a sorceress across the border, it was non-ideal.
But as she had predicted, there were already many people mulling about the road leading up to the bridge. A small line of travellers ahead of them waited to get through, and the people on the side of the road were clearly trying to talk to them. The Redanians never seemed to notice or, if they did, care that the passes were being traded. Bigger fish to fry, he thought, scooting back from her a little. She glanced back at him as he placed his palms on the saddle in the space he had made, and with perfect ease swung one leg back over the rear of the horse to dismount.
He grabbed the reins and walked the horse the rest of the way, taking his time and looking to each individual in front of of him.
"Witcher," Levy piped up, quietly.
Gajeel glanced up to her, seeing now that the hair beneath her hood was a dull brown. Smart, he thought, before following the inclination of her head to a lanky man standing to the side of the road. His garb was simple enough, worn cotton with some red trim that fit fairly loosely over a thin, but sinewy frame. A leather belt slung over his hips held a square pouch to his side, over which he kept a hand rested as casually as possible. Russet eyes watched the passersby more attentively than others, passing over those who looked like they already had the papers they needed.
The Witcher nodded, keeping his eyes on the man while continuing to proceed forward. Soon enough, his eyes met Gajeel's, and a satisfied smile tugged at the thin corners of his mouth.
"Bound for Novigrad?" he asked, tilting his head ever so slightly. "You look like you've traveled far, you may have a look at my wares if you are in need of supplies."
Posing as a merchant. That's one way to do it, the Witcher remarked to himself. He had opened his mouth to reply, but a small vibration around his neck stole his words. The Witcher did not move as his muscles coiled beneath his armor. He did not reach for his humming medallion, but instead watched the man in front of him with an ounce more of attentiveness. He could not look him over without being obvious, therefore just kept his gaze on the merchant's seemingly human face, the only abnormality being the dark skin lining his eyes.
"Yes, we have run low on what we need to make it the rest of the way," Levy had spoken up in his silence, taking hold of the conversation.
"Excellent," the merchant replied, opening his pouch and pulling two slips of parchment from it. "You'll not find better quality anywhere else."
He's good. The facade comes easy, Gajeel thought. Medallion wouldn't hum for a doppler, means it might be a charm or illusion. Could just be in hiding. Could also be something else. Whatever he was, he was intelligent, and his illusion, polymorphy, or charm was solid. But not solid enough in the way a doppler or even high vampire might escape the sensitivities of his pendant.
As though picking up on his train of thought, the merchant flicked his eyes to the Witcher, and ever so slowly trailed his gaze down to the wolf medallion. "Exquisite work, that is," he commented, his words conspicuously loaded, "Only ever seen one other like it," he added, visibly fighting his own smirk. Gajeel had started to prickle, fingers oh-so-tempted to reach for his silver, when Levy bounced a little in her saddle.
"How much," Levy interrupted, anxious to secure their passage and move on. She did not know the origin of the tension but with Redanians so close, it was not something she wanted to stall with. "For the supplies?" she clarified.
"Nothing," he answered quickly, looking up to her.
"Horseshit," Gajeel growled, already on edge. "If they're free we don't want 'em."
"Wait," Levy interjected, trying to keep her voice down, "Don't mind my brutish friend. Surely there is something that can be used as payment."
"My apologies. It seems I don't speak quickly enough. Nothing at this time. But in this profession… you never forget a face. And I frequent Novigrad for my own supplies. I am sure I will see you again, you may repay me another day." The merchant held out the papers to Gajeel, who sniffed and scrutinized them. "Call me an advocate for the unorthodox. We need to stick together," he winked devilishly, "so for now I only request you two continue as you have, together. Defiance is the best resistance."
The Witcher may have been entirely distrusting of this, but Levy leaned over in the saddle and took the papers from him. "Deepest thanks," she offered pleasantly, "and we will."
Something unreadable flickered across his eyes and then was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. "Safe travels to you both, and mind the Pyres," the merchant offered a bow of his head, flicking his gaze between the two of them before ambling back the way they had come, seeking out other 'customers.'
Gajeel tensely led the horse forward, tracking how much distance he put between them, and waited for his medallion to calm before speaking. "It was stupid to take those," he finally growled, low enough for only her to hear.
"It would have been worse not to," Levy replied with equal seriousness in her tone. She wasn't dense, she saw what he saw in the man's demeanor. "A problem for another day. And as I was the one who agreed, a problem for me. You only need to mind your current contract."
"Lots of beings in this world that can strike deals without you knowin'. Tie themselves to ya," he pressed.
Levy was quiet for a beat, intentionally keeping her eyes away from him. "I've seen him before."
The Witcher swung his gaze up to her, his expression demanding an explanation he did not dare to say out loud.
"I wasn't sure until we got closer, but he has been to Midcopse before. Came through about a year ago. He sells magical artifacts and paraphernalia, and he does business in his own way while facing his own risks," she replied. "Making friends with non-humans and magic-users is good business."
"And he looked like that?"
"Yes now hush, and take the passes," Levy shoved them down towards him to quiet him as they approached the bridge, and automatically two soldiers arranged themselves to stop them.
"Your papers," one of them ordered. He sounded like he'd already been doing it for hours, and took the offered slips from Gajeel. He looked them over, and Levy watched his expression for anything out of the ordinary. Anything that would set them off. "What's your business?"
"Contract," Gajeel replied calmly.
The guard looked to him now, studying him, and lifted his brows when he caught sight of the yellow eyes. There was a glimmer of disapproval, but he seemed to understand. A Witcher needed no other excuse, least of all one so well known. He glanced to Levy next. "And the girl?"
"Part of the contract," he replied as the guard quirked a brow, "Retrieving a wealthy merchant's daughter." The Redanians stared at them both, taking note of the hooded woman's split lip, the bruise that had blossomed on her jawline. It was plausible, but a glance between the two of them still held doubt.
There was a heavy moment before the guard finally spoke up again, and in that moment Gajeel's medallion pulsed again. Only once, and then it went silent. "All appears in order," the guard said, his tone clipped. The second guard's face had gone blank. Gajeel blinked as they stepped aside, opening the way for them to head across the bridge.
The Witcher only nodded and tugged the horse forward with him. It looked like they were actually going to get through the post without setting off the whole camp, and he wasn't going to second guess that. Not until they were in the clear.
The first bridge connected to a small islet in the middle of the Pontar where more of the soldiers had gathered. But thankfully, they were occupied with their own business, with the guards at the head of the bridge taking care of any of the through traffic. Still, Levy sat stiff in the saddle, focused on the travellers that were in front of them. Follow them, we are travellers just the same, she told herself. Eyes forward.
It felt like an eternity of passing by the red cloaks and flags, The white eagle spread across the banner threatened her; watched her. She felt like she held her breath the whole time, and she might have, because her lungs were burning by the time they crossed the second bridge and left the station behind.
Levy released her tension in one breath and slumped her shoulders. "That went smoother than expected," she remarked, breathlessly.
"It might not have if ya hadn't cast that charm," Gajeel replied. The guard had looked ready to interrogate her moments before his medallion responded to the magic presence, and he let them through.
Levy looked to him, a blue curl peeking out from the hood again as she removed the small illusion. She assumed he meant her hair. "A simple trick. But effective," she replied, looking forward. In the haze over the horizon, she could see the towers of Novigrad, as plumes of black smoke swirled their way into the sky above, and she swallowed down her nerves.
Every gate leading into Novigrad was always full of activity. And it was where the first witch hunters could be seen, milling about, watching the people who came in and out. Today was no different, and she felt a wave of deja vu crash over her. It had been so long since she had been to the city, but somehow here she was again. And everything had changed.
Levy was glad to not be heading through them, and Gajeel had been confused when she directed them elsewhere. She reached out and placed her hand over his, pulling the reins to their left. It took everything in him to dismiss the flutter in his chest as she did so, and he instead turned his attention to the district they now headed for.
Farcorners was the largest district in Novigrad, sprawling across green farmland outside the walls of the city itself. Ah, that makes far more sense, he thought. It was safer here for non-humans, and he'd known of mages to hide here as well. The witch hunters, for now, focused their activity inside the city, and there was a small chance to keep a low profile in this area.
Levy took charge of directing them through the paths between houses, before finally stopping in front of a two story home near the center of the district. "This is it," she muttered, and Gajeel dismounted the horse as he had before. He extended a hand to her and she looked at it a moment, before finally taking it to help herself down.
The mage took steady steps to the door and knocked quickly. It took several moments before the door opened, revealing a taller man with glasses, and wild, orange hair. He looked first to Gajeel, who admittedly stood out a little more than the small woman at his side. "Can I he-" the words cut off when he looked finally to Levy, who had lifted her hand to pull back her hood just slightly. She said nothing, but looked expectantly to the man. She hadn't seen this one before, and needed to be sure before she fully gave herself away.
Like a ripple over still water, the image of the red-head flickered and nearly lost it's form for a split second as his eyes went wide, mouth hanging open. "Levy?!" he gasped, his voice taking on a suddenly more female pitch. Levy answered with a tiny smile. He looked around quickly and beckoned both of them inside. "Get in here…!" he urged, closing the door behind them. The second it clicked shut, the image of the man melted away… and instead reformed into a very surprised blonde woman, looking like she had a million questions on the tip of her tongue.
"Oh Lucy, you have no idea how happy I am to see you."