AUTHOR'S NOTICE: Oh, what's this? An update?! Impossible.

Update: Not a new chapter, just some tweaks to the last chapter because I missed A THROWAWAY LINE IN THE FUCKING BLU-RAY BONUS NOVEL! Thank you AdamSir for pointing it out and for reminding me that wikis are not always 100% reliable.

P.S.: I openly welcome reviews and criticism in order to improve both this story and future works.

"_"- Speech

'_'- Inner thoughts

[_] – Tier Spells/ Skills/ Martial Arts

{_} – Signs and Magic

7th HUNT: In The Pale Moonlight

"The Wild Hunt rides the sky with every fool moon! The dark raiders abduct our children into lands unknown! Some say they herald a second Conjunction!"

-excerpt from the mad ramblings of a fanatic of the Eternal Fire

The night was dark and cold. The swamp unnaturally quiet. The only sound that could be heard was the light crackle of the dying embers of several makeshift pyres. Although the actual battle had ended sometime ago, by the time the group had made sure that no corpse would rise again (Geralt had never been more thankful for {Igni} in his life) the sun had given way to the full moon. Without the advantage of daylight and factoring in their exhaustion there could only be one course of action. The difficult decision to stay the night in the bog had been neither easy to make nor unanimous. In fact everyone except the witcher and Momon had firmly opposed it. 'Leave then. Do be warned that necrophage packs tend to come out at about this time but then again I'm sure you wouldn't have any problem dealing with them.' Geralt's words had silenced any further arguments and the party had set about preparing to settle in for the night.

The only real options for the night watch duties were the witcher and the knight, considering how shaken the others were. Anyone else and the party might have woken up a member down because said sentry got scared of their own shadow and ran off into the dark. The fact that the duo also comprised their best fighters further helped soothe the minds of the survivors. And so Geralt and his armored companion had prepared for a sleepless night.

That had been some time ago now. After a brief conversation between the two, it was decided for Geralt to take the sides facing the deep swamp – enhanced senses and all, while Momon watched over the horses and the trail leading back to the main road, ensuring that their escape route remained open. The rest had split into two groups – the Baron and his family and the few surviving Witch Hunters. Each group had chosen a hut and turned in for the night. All in all, it seemed like a solid plan that played to the sentries respective strengths, however there was more to the picture. It was no coincidence that the knight had been placed in charge of the animals. There was a theory Geralt wanted to test out so he had insisted on it.

From his position, sitting on a log on one side of the clearing, Geralt observed the armored man. Speaking of Momon, it seemed that the knight had been through somethings himself. His once pristine armor was caked in splotches of dirty brown, green and dark red. Cracks could be seen running through some of the dark plates when the moonlight caught them just right. Apparently his impromptu disappearance during the battle was owed to a fiend corpse dragging him into the swamp, where he had been beset by the wraiths. Considering the unnatural sturdiness of these zombies, as Geralt had heard Momon refer to them (an interesting tidbit he had filed away for later), the survivors, although grateful for him finishing off the armored creature, the survivors had called bullshit, instead believing that he had simply ran off and hid somewhere, biding his time. That is, until the knight had pulled out a heavily decomposed fiend head from behind his back. The grim trophy had come out right in the middle of a colorful tirade about the "famed cowardice of fuckin' nilfgaardians" from the Baron, who had gotten all up in Momon's face (helm?). It had been rather funny seeing Strenger stop mid swear and fall flat on his ass in shock, having to be helped up by a reluctant Tamara. No one had spoken to the knight after that, instead choosing to keep their distance from him.

Turning back to the present, Geralt noted that the man had opted to forgo sitting down for his watch but had instead decided on simply leaning on a nearby tree. A nearby tree, except for the fact said tree was both close enough to the animals as to not appear like Momon was forgoing his job and yet as far away from them as possible. Normally, Geralt would have thought it an odd quirk of the man, perhaps even assumed he had had a bad experience with a horse at some point, if the apparent discomfort had been only one-sided.

'Problem is, it isn't.'

A normal person wouldn't have noticed it but to a witcher's eyes and ears it was clear as day. A slight twitch here, an almost unperceivable neigh there, but what sealed the deal for Geralt was Roach. His mare had been acting uneasy around the knight since the moment he had joined them. Initially, Geralt had blamed Hamsuke's presence for Roach's behavior but even now that the beast was gone the horse refused to calm itself. Most concerning, Roach's eyes hadn't left Momon's armored form for even a second. Each time the knight had repositioned himself, so did Roach. A witcher's mount was rarely wrong, there was definitely something off about the whole situation.

The contents of the crumpled note in his back pocket weren't helping ease his paranoia as well. The damn thing certainly hadn't been there prior to his little chat with O'Dimm. 'Just like the potion…' Speaking of the potion – by the time Geralt had thought to go and recover the pieces of the bottle for later analysis, they were gone. 'Shame, something tells I'll have need of it in the future.' The timing was also suspicious. 'Guess someone doesn't want me to have it.'

Silently he reached for the note, hoping he had overlooked something, anything to tell him that everything was alright and it was just his lack of sleep getting to him. Unfortunately, the words written in dark ink hadn't magically rearranged themselves to assuage his worries.

'We must speak. Inn at the Crossroads. Trust no one. Not even your own shadow. Beware the one in black plate – there is more to him than meets the eye.'

Geralt had really stepped in it. He knew he should've simply gone his way after delivering the Baron the news, but noooo… he had decided to tag along. And where had that landed him? Stuck in the middle of a damn swamp, short a silver sword, shepherding a group of broken survivors, while according to both his mysterious benefactor and his instincts the only other person he could rely on – well there was something seriously off about them.

Looking up at the big bright moon and then at the knight, the witcher didn't know whether to hope that the weirdness wasn't signs of early onset lycanthropy or to wish it would be something as simple as that.

'And to think there was a time when the biggest pain in my ass was saving Dandelion from the consequences of his promiscuity.'

Geralt let the memories of those halcyon days on the road flood his mind, distracting himself from his current predicament. Of his first meeting with a bard that would become his best friend, of the time said best friend had been attacked by a djinn and their subsequent adventure in Rinde and of a certain wish uttered there… 'Thinking about it I wouldn't have met Yen if not for Dandelion. Wonder what she is doing at the moment.' All the reminiscing certainly helped better his mood but it also brought forth uneasy questions.

Such as, for example: When had been the last time he had spoken with Dandelion in private? Sure, he had been present for his recent adventures but with how hectic things had been it had never been just the two of them sharing a drink, reminiscing about their travels of yore. 'Maybe after all this is over, after I find Ciri, he could tag along with me on the Path for a while. It'll be a nice change of pace.' Just like old times he wanted to say but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to, for he knew much had changed since.

'First things, first, gotta figure out what is going on here. Hopefully O'Dimm will shed some light on things.'

As to the enigma known as Momon, provided the knight gave him no reason to, he wouldn't antagonize him and would limit himself to merely observing from a distance for now. And with that Geralt settled in for the long watch ahead of him.

Unbeknownst to the witcher, across the clearing a certain disguised overlord was also in deep contemplation, though of far different things.

'Hmmm… How to best go about petting one without spooking it... Maybe offer a snack first? Wait, what does a horse even eat? Ugh, I really wish Aura was here, so I could ask.'

"More like the Crimson Asshole"

Although night had settled over the entire Continent, not everywhere was it as peaceful as it was for the tired party in the bog.

Far off, in the redanian countryside, the moon illuminated a village. The dozen or so homesteads hugged a small river, more of a stream really, as its waters flowed ever forward to eventually join the Buina in its journey to the Arc Coast. Surrounding the village, as of yet unharvest fields stretched into the horizon. During daytime it created the illusion that the village was but an island in a vast sea of gold. To an outsider, this piece of the civilized world might as well have been no different from the next no-name hamlet out in the boonies, but to the peasant inhabitants of Vephe it was home.

The small farming community had been relatively untouched by the war with only a few of the local lads leaving to fight the damned Black Ones. It was a mercy that many a village had been denied, all of their men being conscripted to free the world from Mad Emhyr's tyranny and leaving the poor womenfolk and children to fend for themselves while the harvest drew ever closer. The fact their Vephe had been spared from such a destiny was thought to be a blessing from the heavens, a gift the villagers made sure to repay by offering their prayers, some to Melitele and others to the Eternal Flame, each morning and evening.

The day had gone by as usual, with the villagers either tending to their fields or doing work around the village, nothing of much note having happened. The setting of the sun had once again marked the end of the workday and the start of the second round of daily prayers. When those had concluded the inhabitants had hurried off to their houses, exhausted from their backbreaking toil but still eager to face to coming dawn with a smile, for they were truly blessed.

The pale light of the moon shone down upon an entire village, held in sleep's sweet embrace. Or rather, almost an entire village, for you see, one soul was still very much awake.

Lying in her bed, Elke once again tried to drift off to her dreams and failed once again. She had tried every method she knew but sleep seemed as distant as it had been when she had started. Not that it surprised her. This was normal for her actually. The girl, with only 8 namedays to her, had always been like this. She really tried to go to sleep, but the dreams would only arrive very late into the night. This had resulted in her snoring well into the morning. A fact that wasn't looked favorably on by the neighbors. After all even a child's hands – her hands could ease the workload in the morning. Her parents had tried breaking her out of the habit but had given up after nothing had worked – neither mother's kind words, nor father's harsh hand.

Lazy Elke – that's name the village children had given her. The first time they had mocked her with it, she had burst out in tears and ran to her mother. Now the 'insult', having heard it dozens of time by now, had lost nearly all meaning to the girl. Of course her bullies had moved on to other methods by now – such as putting bugs in her clothes while she wasn't looking, when Elke had gotten over the name-calling. She hated them – both the bugs and her tormentors.

This was the everyday life of Elke. Her only respite came at night, when she could be alone with her thoughts and toys and, most importantly safe from the constant harassment.

The night had started as every other before it, with the girl quietly playing with her doll, as to not disturb her parents sleeping in the nearby bed. With how close they were to her, she couldn't risk waking them up and messing up their work as well. The usual bout of childish make-believe had given way to the customary staring out the window above Elke's bed. As their house resided on the very edge of Vephe, the window allowed one to gaze at its entirety. Even in nighttime her village was always peaceful.

The monotonous, almost boring serenity of Vephe soon lost the child's interest, who had decided to give its best to try and fall asleep, having run out of things to do. After much effort, it seemed that sleep would finally come to Elke, as a small yawn come out of her mouth and her eyelids grew heavy, forcing her to close her eyes. However, just she was about to drift off, something unexpected happened.

Elke felt something cold touch her cheek. The sudden chill forced her eyes open and chased off any hope of falling sleep but the girl didn't care about that at the moment. Instead she was transfixed by the sight before her. By the countless dots of white, illuminated by the moonlight, that fluttered in through her window.

"Huh… Snowflakes?" Elke whispered quietly to herself. Now, an adult would have immediately questioned themselves why it was snowing in the middle of summer, but then again this was no adult.

Getting up in bed, the girl turned to once again look through her window. Snowflakes rained down upon every house in Vephe. It seemed that this miraculous snowfall wasn't limited to just her house, much to her annoyance. It certainly would have shown those bullies, she would have been the only child who would get to play in the snow after all. She could already see her tormentors laughing at her as they launched snowball, after snowball at her, a ruined snowman lying abandoned next to her.

Then an idea came into being inside Elke's mind. If she couldn't enjoy herself during the day – then why not do it now? Nobody would be awake after all and she would have all the time in the world to build a Mr. Snowy. It was a great plan, in her humble opinion.

However, just as she was about to slip out through the window, the shadows of doubt reared their ugly heads. Elke had never ventured out into the night on her own before. Maybe this was not such a good idea. But just as quickly the girl's doubts disappeared and where instead replaced with something else. She was certain that her bullies had also never been out after dark. The cowards. Yes, this plan of hers was getting better by the minute.

Going over the sill as quiet as a mouse, for she could imagine the tanning she would receive if her parents caught her in the act, Elke's bare feet hit the already snow-covered ground outside her house. 'Maybe I should have taken my shoes.' but seeing as the way back into the hut was blocked (on account of her short body not being able to reach the window again), all Elke could do was suppress the shiver and move on with her scheme.

'Now, where would the most snow gather?'

Thinking back on the previous winter, the biggest snow drifts had formed out towards and in the fields. And she knew the perfect place for her snowman – Old Man Sven had suddenly passed away before he could plant the seeds from last year's harvest, leaving his allotted plot of the fields barren of crops. With her destination set, Elke took off into the moonlit night, ignorant of the sound of hooves and the rattling of armor drawing ominously closer with each passing moment.

At first each step that Elke's bare legs took caused a small shiver to shake her body, but after a while it seemed she got used to it as she no longer felt the chill – actually she couldn't feel anything but still she pressed on, under the fence that encircled Vephe and served as its border and into the golden wheat, that in essence was the lifeblood of her community.

The endless sea of crops eventually gave way to a neat square of empty field. However, much to the surprise of the eight-year old, it wasn't as secluded as she had thought it. Two people sat next to a small camp fire. The fire's light glinted off their armor and weapons. At first Elke thought them bandits, like the ones from the stories her mother had told her, but then something made her reconsider. For you see, the odd duo were in fact both women and as every child knew evil bandits were always ugly, stupid old men that the hero would outwit in the end. The two before the girl had more in common with the princesses she had heard about – namely their beauty.

Her entrance hadn't gone unnoticed as well – to pairs of curious eyes turned Elke's way. One pair was green as the leaves on the trees and filled with warmth. The other… Two mismatched eyes, one the color of charcoal, the other white as milk stared at the girl with a look that reminded Elke of the way her neighbor's cat had stared at a cornered mouse. A strange mix of curiosity, cruel enjoyment and boredom.

A moment passed… Then two… Nothing. For a bit it seemed like the silence was about to continue until sunrise, but then the green-eyed stranger awkwardly raised her hand in greeting, a small smile on her face.

"Ah- Uh… Hello there, what are you doing out at this time of night? Shouldn't you be at home? "

"I wanted to-"

But Elke would never get to finish her sentence, as in that exact moment the screaming began. The Wild Hunt had descended upon the village of Vephe.

Author's Notes:

So, I'd like to start by apologizing for my rather long and abrupt absence. Almost half a year is too long even by my standards, so – MY MOST SINCERE APOLOGIES – insert Ichiban bow here-

Anyways, this chapter was a bit of a bitch to write. Originally, the part in the swamp was supposed to be the part of the 6th Hunt but seeing as I hadn't posted in so long and all – well I decided to split them up into their own things. The problem came when I realized that I hadn't really thought out a good way to follow up on the camping in the swamp scene (I have planned the story up to Skellige as of this moment, so this derailment came as a bit of a wrench in the works) in the same chapter. It'd be rather awkward if I suddenly went: And then they were back in Crow's Perch. So in comes, sleep deprived Fox, and plucks a random idea from the idea board ( yes, I actually have a board with my ideas for this story, I get obsessive sometimes) and to runs with it.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I guess I'll see you next time.