Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of the witcher. Those are property of Mr Sapkowski and I using Netflix series canon mixed with the books and my twisted version of the lore.

Warnings : allegories of our current world to be honest with you..., drugs, sickness.

Notes : This is the chapter I am the less confident in this story, I won't lie. I have the feeling I am doing the things not in a good way, or that I am not soft enough or legitimate to speak about certain things. I have purposely mixed the things to speak of several issues at the same time. My fics contains the screams I don't shout irl so... this one is shouting, in its own ways - for a part at least.

Destiny - part 3

Links

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The ride to Temeria was slow, slower than he anticipated - Roach was a very endurant but not rapid horse after all - but Geralt took this time to begin his investigation on the sort of hallucinations he've experienced recently and the dreams he had for the last twenty years. Destiny was a thing maybe but there was something else - something invisible or hidden - like the Djinns or the Dopplers - in a state of constant fluctuations in this reality. Perhaps it was some kind of new monster he didn't know about, or this was linked to another sphere. The Wild Hunt stayed in the corner of his mind and the conversation he had with Villentretenmerth about it too.

He didn't have much access to electricity on his journey, so he went old school once again. He bought a large road paper map of Continent and some color pens. Every night he placed color dots where he remembered significant events and what surrounded them. Green was for events themselves, blue was for the weirdest dreams he had, and red was for the most challenging monsters he fought. Twenty years was a lot to cover and with his tendency to erase or block his own memories to escape the pain, the task was hard. The last color he applied was black, for the monoliths he saw or simply knew about.

He didn't have to finish it to see a pattern emerging, but he went all the way through anyway. This was not a full pattern but there were too many elements overlapping to be a random thing. Many important moments were linked to monsters and chaos and monoliths. It was like his footsteps had been programmed to go to every point to get another piece of the puzzle. Maybe that was the proof of the existence of Destiny, or in a more cartesian way, this was probably the sign that the monoliths were important in what was happening to the Continent and himself. Now he had to complete it to be sure of it.

His destination was maybe a place where he could have some new pieces of the puzzle.

###

Geralt reached the kingdom within two weeks, and double the time to get to Bleobheris.

The difficulties of the trip were soon forgotten, as he entered the forest. The trees were full of delightful colors and gradually losing their leaves. It smelled like autumn and sounded like life. So many birds and small animals were out there stuffing themselves fat on the last gratitudes of mother nature, preparing for the winter to come.

It had been decades since he didn't come to the Great Oak. This was a sacred place, ruled by the druids and a refuge to many races in the darkening of times. As far as he remembered this always had been the case. But today, when he finally arrived, he witnessed something he eluded for a long time : the reality of the Continent.

He never really listened when he was told about that, arguing that the problems and the politics of the world were not his concern, except if it affected the hunt. He knew some things of course - he wasn't totally distant to the world - but maybe for the first time he really opened his eyes.

There were a lot of refugees, but not only pure elves who had nowhere to go - this was his conception of what the troubles of the world implied only. Maybe because he tried to stay away from the biggest cities as much as possible, maybe because the world was changing faster than ever, when he arrived by the Great Oak, he had the impression worlds were colliding once again. And what he saw at Cintra was just the top of the iceberg. There were so many people there, so many groups, and all of them seemed to come from another sphere.

There were the oldest races with gnomes, dwarves and elves, of course. There were many humans too. But… It was like seeing the past, the present and the future at the same time. There were the traditional ones, wearing old kinds of clothes, clutching to their racial identities like holy artifacts. The modern ones were visibly coming from the cities. Human fashion, standard clothes, for everyone. A lot of the elves in that category were mutilated ones - cut ears mostly and other chirurgical transformations to make them more human-like - trying to fit in the mold.

And then the others. All races were concerned but more humans and elves than the gnomes and dwarves. They were the only ones mixing up naturally as if their bond came from something else than their races.

Those people were wearing mostly dark clothes with patches of bright colors and they had quite often some impressive tattoos. But their remarkable features were the synthetic parts linked with tubes filled with a glowing liquid - the same he saw on the dying elf in Cintra. Many of them had lost a limb or had clear vital aids. His medallion was reacting when passing by. They were all chaos users.

It suddenly seemed to Geralt that the world changed without him once more. He walked past them all and found the druids.

- "Gwynbleidd ! What a surprise. How is it that we have such a great name here at the Seat of Friendship ?" Said the current representative of the druidic congregation. At least it was what Geralt deduced.

He was an old man, almost a caricature of a druid, with long white hair and a bushy beard. He was wearing a thick brown robe, descending to the ankles. He was way older than he seemed, as he was blessed by chaos longevity - very much like Nenneke.

- "I see that I am very well known. Do I know you personally ?"

- "No." The man giggled. "I am sorry. Let me introduce myself. I am Elrik. The current guardian of the Oak. Pardon me for my very direct approach. But you know : a witcher, white hair, golden eyes… We all know the songs of the White Wolf."

- "Yeah yeah, the songs…"

He didn't show it but that reminder of Jaskier wasn't welcome.

- "I came here for an urgent affair."

- "Tell me."

They walked a bit outside the camp, and took a small path in the forest, for more privacy. Elrik was a nice man, very easy to talk to. Geralt had no difficulty to make him understand the problem he was facing and the urgent need he had to contact Mousesack.

- "The message could take a few days to reach him." Explained the druid. "We are not as modern as the sorceress and mages. We don't use their technology. We have other ways. I guarantee you that you will have an answer though. In the meantime, you are welcome here of course."

- "Thank you. This is very appreciated."

They began to walk back and Geralt didn't find much to say. He was preoccupied and many things were rushing back in his mind under the stress. The druid saw it but he didn't push him. The return was silent, until they reached the main camp back.

- "Who are they ?" He asked Elrik when they passed a group of synthetically augmented persons.

- "So, this is the first time you see the Lost Ones, Gwynbleidd. Those with the tattoos and implants you see there are elves from Temeria and Redania mostly. They were the most integrated elves, but they lived among marginalized humans, mostly because they all have a common deadly disease. The tubes you see and the mechanical parts regulate the flow of chaos in their body."

- "A disease that affects chaos users ?"

- "Yes. Or at least they believe that they are more sensitive to it and that one day everyone will be ill. They call it the Frost, in relation to an old story from before the Dark Ages."

The words came naturally to his mind and that was the most terrifying feeling :

- "Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt." He whispered.

- "Ohh you know the legend then. Where did you hear it ?"

- "An elf from the wild lands told me, a long time ago. It was the transcription of old ruins." Gerald said absently. "What do you know about it ?"

- "Not much I am afraid, except what the Lost Ones say about it. They say the Frost - I mean their illness - is one of the signs of an impending catastrophe. And that it came from the modern use of chaos, spreaded by humans"

- "I see…"

Geralt felt observed but he didn't move. Elrik had more to say about those people.

- "The first cleansings of this decade hit them both - elves and humans alike - to hide the pure race oriented laws that came after. Cintra is particularly hard on his non-human population, but maybe you've seen it ?"

- "Yes I have. I found many elves, and sick ones too, in a slumber just a mile away from the castle."

- "This won't get better and this whole part of the city will probably disappear in a few months, maybe weeks. We've seen this before." Elrik sighed and looked at a small group of these people chatting. "We called them the Lost Ones because, now, they belong to nowhere. They have no place in the human world they know. City elves think everything is happening because of them and pure elves are trying to convert them back to what they think is natural, but they don't do much better than those who ripped their life appart in the human world. Bleobheris has become their new home, until they decide where to go or what to do."

- "But is there a place they can go ?"

- "For the moment, none. Calanthe was maybe the first to massacre them. Temeria and Redania are now going rogue with the non-humans too, and the other northern kingdoms are progressively doing the same. They fear war and they hide behind the powerful. They won't contradict their brutal politics. Bleobheris is one of the few sacred places left in the Continent, even if we are in one of the deadliest countries for non-humans. The old sacred vows with the druids are still holding. No one is coming for them here. A solution for some of them would be to go into the wild lands on the other side of the Blue Mountains, to hide. But it will probably make their condition worse because of the instability of the chaos there. This is tough."

- "Hmmm"

###

Geralt visited the camp alone. The experience was a mix of sadness and joy. There were songs and dances. There were colors and laughs. But all of that was nested in a strong feeling of fatality. The Lost Ones had the most exotic culture for him but he found himself drawn to them. There was curiosity because of the mechanical parts of their bodies, but also a strange feeling of belonging that was growing from nowhere. Maybe because that to a lot of the other refugees they seemed mutants and he was one.

He delayed his approach to them though, preferring to speak first to everyone else. And there was that weird sensation of being observed when he was near, that made the first contact harder for him. The rest of the time, he was with his horse, living the best of a witcher's life, pushing himself just far enough from the people for the night. The animal was great at settling him down.

But after two days, he made his move. He had isolated the group from where the sensation of being observed was coming from and observed them back. There was a woman - or so he guessed - looking his way from time to time, but always staying in the shadows of the trees. She was good at hiding, only revealing her presence when smoking.

He noticed it was also a common thing in the Lost Ones groups. It didn't smell like ordinary tobacco though. He suspected the use of some drugs in the mix. But if they were all sick as Elrik said, it wasn't strange. Some smoke drugs used to lift some pain off. Maybe it was some Fisstech again.

During the night, he joined the little group in a dark corner of the camp. They were simply playing Gwent. They had no fire, only some glowing sticks, randomly placed on the ground. They seemed indifferent to the cold air of the autumn night. They had light clothing, showing often skin and those weird devices attached to them.

He looked at their feet. Their money was nuts. He smiled discreetly at that. They seemed so edgy from afar but very soft when you actually saw what they were doing.

- "Can I join you ?" He asked. They smiled back at him and accepted, giving him a full hand of nuts to start. "It's been a while since I played."

- "Before we met, Gwynbleidd ?" Asked the secret observer from the shadows.

Geralt didn't think the person would speak to him so quickly. He recognised that female voice somehow, confirming that they met indeed, but he couldn't remember when and where it was. He followed the game and answered.

- "I don't know. You tell me. How long has it been ?"

- "Many many years, witcher. Before White Wolf became your name. You were the Butcher of Blaviken back them." He didn't look at her and continued playing.

- "That's a long time indeed."

The bottom light and the one of their own tubes attached to their body was lighting the members of this strange community in an almost creepy way, but he was not afraid of them. They were no menace. Except this observer who was teasing him, they were almost indifferent to him. Some seemed genuinely happy he joined to play with them.

- "Why are you here ?" The woman moved, placing herself in a way that the light was her protection. She knew what she was doing.

- "Personal affairs. Don't worry I won't stay too long to bother you."

The gnome next to him looked at him, then the woman.

- "Stop that, Toruviel." Geralt's blood ran cold. "Everyone is welcome here. The past is the past. The witcher plays a game of Gwent, right now."

- "You have no idea who he is…" She spat.

- "Sure I have. I don't care. Now, just come to play with us or go walk a bit to cool down."

Toruviel was like a ghost from his past and no matter how hard he tried to avoid his memories of Jaskier, it was directly linked to him. He had a sudden flashback of the cavern and the angry elf that beat them both. He knew this could be it from the description she gave from the time they met but he believed that she could be from the thirty years he was the Butcher. He had met many elves in his life and the uncounters weren't all polite. It could have been anyone. But like the dots on his maps suggested, all was connected. So he had to pay attention to her.

- "I remember you now." He said, finally looking back at her.

The elf hesitated but finally sat with them, revealing how much she changed.

Geralt was shocked to see her like that. She was pale as death, even with the strange light playing with her skin tone. She was wearing black like all the Lost Ones around him, but her outfit was more provocative. She had a XXL shirt dropping open on one side of her chest, revealing almost completely her left breast and shoulder, heavily tattooed. She was displaying it on purpose - not specifically for him, but for everyone to see. The design was intricate and complex but he could see what she wanted to be noticed. There were two roses, one black, the other white. He didn't know what it was supposed to mean though.

His eyes went up, following the glowing pink tube coming from under the fabric, and linked to her neck and head in several places. She was half shaved, sporting the blond dreadlocks he remembered of her, on the other side.

- "I bet you don't recognize me, witcher."

- "I do." He played his turn. "We met at Posada."

- "Indeed. And you were my enemy."

- "Well, past tense, I guess we are not anymore."

- "It depends."

The other members grew nervous. She was still agressive after all those years. Anger never left her. In a way he understood why. Injustices after injustices. She probably only knew that.

- "Toruviel…" Warned the gnome again.

She stayed silent for a moment, just looking at him playing. For several minutes, the only thoughts and words were for the cards and the strategy. At the end of the game, she invited him to walk with her. He was surprised but he followed.

They didn't go far, just a bit further in the dark. There was a human woman, with the same tubes attached to her body, lying in a bed of roots. Toruviel kneeled next to her and softly kissed her. Geralt was watching them with a mix of uneasiness and jealousy. The human woman was physically barely reacting to the soft attention but he could see in her eyes, lightened by the pink glow of the tubes, the love.

For a second, he felt the ghost warmth of Yennefer's lips on his. The part of himself he wanted to bury was aroused somehow. He wanted to feel that again.

Toruviel whispered something to the ear of who was undoubtedly her lover and lit two cigarettes. She placed the first one on a bowl next to the woman's face, and began to smoke the other. She got on her feet and they went further away, in total darkness.

Geralt's eyes didn't need much light to work and he had no difficulty escaping the natural traps of the roots. Toruviel seemed to walk from memory. Maybe she was there for a long time. She sat on a big root and began to smoke properly. He leaned against the tree.

- "I thought you hated humans. What happened to you ?" He asked finally, seeing that she was struggling to make the first step.

- "I still hate them. But my friends here are not humans. So she is not human, as much as I am not elf anymore."

- "What are you then ?"

- "Us… I know people are calling us the Lost Ones. That's because they think in their terms, not ours. We accept this appellation from the druids and some other people that use that to say that we have nowhere to go. But because of this name, a lot of people think we have lost our ways - included the pure elves - and they don't even come to us to get our stories or know us. Unlike you did."

She took a long puff of her cigarette. The smoke she exhaled played funnily with the light attached to her.

- "What do you call yourself then ?"

- "One minute before midnight."

- "That's a very long name. And what is it supposed to mean ?"

- "You talked to Elrik. He told you about the Frost, I suppose."

- "Well I didn't get what it was, to be honest."

- "The Frost is the sickness we have. We don't feel the cold and it grows inside of us, with that polluted chaos of the human world. The wires, the tubes, you see on us, are the only thing that slow the process." She designated her own devices. "It is fueled with chemicals and drugs that regulate our dying bodies. But we are the lucky one. Many other just perish in a few weeks he the shadows of the human cities."

- "And the cigarettes ?"

- "That's for the pain." Geralt looked in the vague direction of Toruviel's lover. She noticed. "She is in the last stage. She has merely days in front of her. Her body is almost all frozen and soon she will be a corpse… We never know when death catches us. Hence our name… we are always one minute before midnight. Dancing in the valley of shadows with the ghosts of our ancestors."

- "You are still angry. I can feel it."

- "Of course I am." She snapped a little bit.

- "But not for the same reasons, am I right ?"

- "Well…"

She took a long shot and leaned back on the trees. Her large T-shirt slid, revealing too much but she didn't care. Geralt was beginning to understand that the Frost was really affecting her perception.

- "You said to me that the chaos was unchanged. Torque said it was unchanged. Yet we exist. Our sickness is worsening, as the years go by. I know this is the way humans changed it with their technology and how it is transformed in the big city. Wild elves are unaffected by it because they were born in a place away from all of that. But many chaos users of the biggest cities are dying of the Frost. It touched the humans first but the illness was wrapped under their short life span and fragile nature. But then the elves, even the dwarves and the gnomes were touched. It took centuries to affect the young generations in a fast way. And the joke is on me. When I had the will to fight the world to reverse human madness and free my people, I was so sure that the wild elves were my salvation. The Frost was in the very early stage for me… When they discovered it, they refused me and all the other elves I brought to them to help in their fight. They refused us because we were sick, and not pure like them. They used us and abandoned us in the mountains."

Geralt flinched. If life could give me one blessing… He focused on her to ignore the pain.

- "The experiment worked ?"

- "Yeah, it did. We installed many micro farms in their desert lands. We grew food out of the sand with very little irrigation. But they are not as strong as they think. I have learnt that Filavandrel's actions were considered not aggressive enough. I was agreeing with them but they also blamed him for taking a too risky measures contacting us for help. And that was before we were evicted from their population. How ironic ?"

- "Well, even if I refuse to be called human, technically I am a human child, and despite some attributes, I look like it. But to many I am a monster because of my mutations. Our peers don't recognise their own when they are not in the norm. I guess it is true for elves as much as humans or any other race."

- "That sucks." She scoffed. She smoked again. "Then I heard about the rising of a new queen - I have never seen her though and I don't care anymore. I had to find a solution to buy me some more time, as the exposure to the wild chaos of the other side of the mountains didn't help my condition at all. I went to Blaviken and met my new friends… and my love. This is all I have and this all I wish to end it properly. I guess like every other living being... What about you witcher ? I am curious to know what is your life since Posada."

- "Why ?"

Geralt was disturbed. This was a whole parallel story he was linked to and that was somehow claiming him back. Also why Toruviel was talking about love and how important that was when he was in the hard and long process of grieving this part of his life to return to his roots.

- "You said it. I am still angry. But strangely, this last months, I am given the chance to right some wrongs of my past and to reflect on it. I don't say that I can forgive everything, that I am free of anger. But I feel lighter. You are coming back into my life, I just want to understand who you are and maybe it will help to understand why I was so angry with you back then. I already know that I was wrong to trust my peers. Maybe I misjudged you and you were a good guy all along." She smiled.

Geralt sighed but accepted. Maybe this could help him as well.

I hope you like to see Toruviel back and how things are connecting. I am introducing a lot of things for later in those chapters from moments I placed before had in the first chapters. And I will continue to do so. This is the shape of my definition of Destiny in this AU.

See you soon. Lots of love !