The Open Road, Western Temeria
12th April, 1300 IC
Sticking around in Foller's Ford would not have been a great idea. It seemed the supposed eternal good will earned from dealing with the "werechanger" had worn off since Headman Daird's death in 1297. Now, there was only tension, if not restrained hostility. The people that had once stood against a magistrate for Riordan and Akari now glared from doorways. So much for always being welcome in Foller's Ford.
Probably the world balancing the scales for deceiving them. Riordan had thought to himself.
The Giant had expected a lot. Crying. Protests. Maybe even an angry mob. Rolf and Nezka's goodbyes to their daughters had been said behind a closed front door, the witchers waiting outside. The door had opened. The twins' parents had stared daggers. The girls themselves were silent, downcast, eyes puffy from tears, as resigned as a five-year old could be to something they didn't understand. They'd both been dressed in tunics, cloaks, and shoes that were nice, relative to what a peasant could provide.
It shouldn't have been surprising, really. This was a community finally able to let out a dreaded breath that had been held for five years and five days.
The intent behind the names of the girls was not lost on Riordan. Rolfia and Anezka. It was meant to evoke the names of their parents, a lingering reminder to the witchers. It did not have the intended effect, because Rolfia was a stupid name, so Akari immediately began calling her Fia. Anezka became Nez, because Riordan could say it with a single syllable.
With little ceremony, the two witchers parted ways to head for their respective Schools with their new charges in tow. Akari was bound for northern Aedirn, to Kaer Tora, named for the lost fortress of the Tiger School. For Riordan, a journey from Temeria's coast to Undvik among the Skellige Isles awaited.
Grudgingly, he paid the toll to cross the bridge out of Foller's Ford.
Nez sat in the saddle in front of Riordan, staring at the road ahead. Riordan occasionally glanced down at the straw blonde head before him, wondering if he should make conversation. What conversation was there to make with a five year old?
"You're…being brave." Riordan said.
The child didn't respond.
"Aye. I'd think it was bullshit, too." He grunted. Silence was better, after all.
About an hour out of Foller's Ford, a rider appeared in the distance, coming in the opposite direction. With the wind in his face, a scent reached Riordan's nostrils, faint at first, growing stronger with each moment. The first time he encountered it, it had been lost among Vizima's general noisome miasma. But now that he knew it, he couldn't mistake it. Resin and vervain; like someone was burning frankincense in a field of verbena. Only one person wore that scent that he'd met.
Of course, if the perfume hadn't given it away, the big hat would have.
"Riordan!" Nadia of Beauclair called out as she approached, waving at him.
Riordan raised a hand in reply.
"She's a friend. Don't worry." Riordan told Nez.
Still, the child said nothing.
Nadia rode up on her white stallion, Frost. "Riordan, sun in my skies, moon of my night. What a happy coincidence to see you. I can only assume the feeling is mutual, though it's even harder to see your smile now that you've grown that beard out."
Riordan stopped Kreveson a short distance away from Nadia and Frost. The witcher wore his favored brigandine armor. He had, indeed, cultivated a long beard, which he braided in the Skelliger style, as well as drooping mustaches that almost fully concealed his mouth.
Nadia wore an indigo shirt with thin white stripes, fastened up the front with wooden toggles, along with breeches that were the same blue-violet. As always, Nadia's garments were perfectly tailored to fit, and Riordan did his best not to stare. She'd let her hair grow long enough to reach her shoulder blades.
Gods. She really is beautiful. The witcher thought to himself. But he was also aware of just how unlikely this meeting was.
"Coincidence." Riordan repeated.
"As sure as the seas are deep and the road goes ever onward." Nadia insisted.
"Has nothing to do with the fact that I told you I was going to be here on this day." Riordan said.
"That fact, perhaps, might have influenced my…general course." Nadia said, suddenly finding something to flick off of the lapel of her vest.
Riordan raised an eyebrow.
"Ach, Riordan, it's as though you drive a lance through my heart when I see that suspicion on your face." Nadia lamented. "But, very well, since you insist on ruining my fun, you'll have my confession. I assumed you might want some help in the transportation of this child to Kaer Trellig."
"She's one kid. I can handle it." Riordan said.
"Handle it? Probably. But look. She's scared half to death. Probably believes you're going to eat her or something. I, on the other hand, mentored many a new arrival at Aretuza, of many different ages." Nadia said as she drew Frost alongside Kreveson, the horses facing opposite directions.
Riordan didn't reply to that. He wasn't sure what she wanted to hear.
Nadia looked down at Nez. "I promise he's not as scary as he seems, little one. You couldn't ask for a better protector. Though, he really might eat you. He gets very hungry." She smiled her lovely smile and laughed, placing a hand on her chest. "My name is Nadia. A few of the younger girls at school called me Aunt Nana, which did make me feel old, given I wasn't quite twenty. I'd like it if we were friends. Can you tell me your name?"
Riordan drew in a breath, intending to say the girl wasn't going to talk.
"Anezka." He heard the little one say.
"Anezka. How lovely." Nadia said softly. "Come. Ride with me. I can tell you all about magic. Do you like magic?"
"Papa says magic is bad." Nez said as Riordan lifted her and handed her off to Nadia.
Nadia ensured Nez was secure in front of her before saying, "it can be, if bad people use it. But, it can also do things like this."
The sorceress held up a palm, revealing a butterfly made of lightning. It crackled softly as it lifted off from Nadia's hand, flying lazily in a circle around Frost. Anezka's wide eyes followed it intently.
Riordan waited.
"You'll get to learn some magic where you're going, too. And it will be good when you have it, because you're a good person." Nadia said. She turned Frost around, heading back in the direction she had come from. As she did, she fixed Riordan with a mischievous look that said "I've adopted her now."
"She still has to be a witcher." Riordan said as he tapped Kreveson with his heels.
"Oh, she will be. But right now is Aunt Nana time." Nadia said. She addressed Anezka then, saying, "you know, I wasn't much older than you when I had to leave home to go to magic school. Goodness, I was so scared that I tried to hide up a tree behind my father's house…"
'Go to magic school.' Sounds like a children's tale. Riordan thought as he followed along. Maybe that was the point.
The Blue Lily Inn, Western Temeria
In a world where roving beasts and bandits could appear from nowhere and devastate isolated pockets of civilization, establishments like the Blue Lily Inn couldn't simply be plopped down in the middle of the wilderness and hope to survive.
The Lily was a settlement in miniature, surrounded by a wooden stockade wall. Riordan had been there before. Other than the inn itself, there was also a stable and smithy. A few hired swords were kept on retainer, more for keeping peace within than dealing with threats without. The inn itself was three stories tall, with a tavern on the ground floor, rooms for guests on the second floor, and the living quarters of the staff at the top.
Large, azure lilies had been painted on the walls of the tavern's interior. The floor and foundation were well-laid stone. The tavern was large for such an establishment, with as many places to sit crammed in as possible. One never knew when a caravan or noble procession might be coming through.
They paid for two rooms, one for Riordan, one for Nadia and Anezka. Dinner was an underwhelming carrot potage that was only partially salvaged for Riordan by paying extra for mutton and a heap of onions to be thrown in. If nothing else, it was warm and it filled his belly, and one couldn't really ask for much more than that. Nez originally didn't want to eat, but Nadia's gentle encouragement prompted the girl to empty her bowl. Eventually, Nadia carried the girl upstairs, putting her to bed, then coming back down to where Riordan sat against a wall. It was crowded and loud. A travelling bard was strumming a lute, telling a story in verse as they did.
"You're a lot better with kids than me." Riordan noted as she sat across from him.
"I've always enjoyed taking care of them. I inherited my mother's maternal instincts, I think. By Morrigan's feathered mantle, she could give a griffon some pointers on protecting their young." Nadia sighed. She poured herself some wine from a bottle left on the table.
"Is coddling her going to do anything but hurt in the long run?" Riordan asked.
The wine glass paused halfway to Nadia's lips. She appraised the witcher with a piercing look, leaving Riordan to wonder if he'd crossed some line.
"She'll have plenty of time to be miserable and scared when she gets to Kaer Trellig. Unless you're going to tell me there wasn't any point where you would have liked some softness in your youth?" The sorceress said.
"Did it help the ones calling you Aunt Nana?" Riordan asked dryly.
"It did. But we're not talking about them. We're talking about you." Nadia riposted.
Riordan frowned, looking down into his beer. He didn't like this. He was suddenly wanting to curl inward on himself.
"Don't know." He grunted.
Nadia blinked. "You don't know?"
"Would have to know what softness is to know if it would have helped." Riordan said.
For once, it was Nadia's turn to not have anything to say. Which, oddly enough, made Riordan feel like he had to speak.
"Myrhyff the ice giant drove everyone off the island of Undvik when I was a bairn. I was too young to even walk. Skarin, my mentor, was there on a contract, hunting sirens. He tells me Myrhyff killed most of my village. My mother carried me away but bled to death on the beach trying to find a boat. That's where Skarin found me." Riordan told her. He paused to take a long drink. "Kaer Trellig. Training. The Path. It's my life. It's what I know. It's all I've ever known. And I'm not dead yet. So it worked."
Riordan couldn't feel anything for a family he didn't remember, a life he'd never experienced. There was no need to dwell on it. As for Kaer Trellig, yes, he knew he'd been scared and miserable, but it was for the greater good, wasn't it? A few suffered to keep the many safe. Gods. Riordan hadn't even told Akari that story because it didn't seem to matter. So how could Nadia bring it out of him so easily?
"But, everyone's different. You're probably right. Doubt it'll hurt her." Riordan added quickly, hoping to put the issue to rest.
The Giant expected a continued lecture, maybe even an attempt to convince him to take Anezka back to her family. Really, he expected anything other than what Nadia did next.
The sorceress reached out, placing her hand atop one of Riordan's. Her face was earnest and sad.
"I'm sorry the world has forced you to be strong." Nadia said, barely audible over the noise in Blue Lily.
Riordan was stunned, but only for a moment. Some intrinsic part of him reacted, the witcher within that drew back and went on guard when confronted with something new and dangerous. He pulled his hand away from her before he even realized what he was doing.
"I'm…tired." The witcher muttered, awkwardly standing, bumping the table as he did, having to reach out and steady Nadia's wine bottle to keep it from falling.
"Riordan?" Nadia said, voice a little higher than usual. Confusion? Hurt? Should he even care?
No. You shouldn't. So quit it. Riordan told himself. He already knew he was going to fail to follow his own advice.
"Goodnight." The Giant said, leaving the tavern and going upstairs before this confounding sorceress could do anything else to mess with his head.
Riordan went to his room and locked the door. This was foolish. Pathetic, even. A touch on the hand and a kind word and he'd run as if Myrhyff lived again and was coming for his blood. He did not like this; did not like how Nadia managed to muddle his thoughts and make what was once certain seem tilted and strange. Yet, he could not stop seeking her company, for a world without her smile and golden honey eyes was a world Riordan wasn't sure was worth protecting.
"Gods and fucking demons." He sighed as he began getting out of his armor. The warmth of Nadia's hand on his was long gone, but he imagined he could still feel it.
Fear. That's what this was. Fear of the unknown. Fear of shedding the armor that guarded his heart and soul. Fear of saying or doing the wrong thing at the wrong time and watching the smile fade from Nadia's face, knowing he'd never see her again. Riordan couldn't remember the last time he felt real fear. He wished the myth that witchers couldn't feel it at all had been true. It hadn't grown anymore enjoyable since the last time.
13th April, 1300 IC
Riordan eventually managed to sleep. When he awoke and dressed the next morning, he came down anticipating an awkward, stilted facsimile of the normal status quo between himself and Nadia.
It surprised him, then, when he came downstairs into the tavern and the first thing he heard was, "Riordan, flower of my fields, star of my sky, good morning. Come and eat before the bacon is gone. This Surprise Child of yours is already taking after you with her appetite."
Riordan stopped at the bottom of the stairs, scratching his head. There Nadia and Nez were, sitting at the same table as the previous evening, the young girl's cheeks puffed out with food.
"First time I've been called a flower." Riordan muttered as he joined them.
"I can't imagine why. I see a field of red poppies when the sun shines on your hair. What do you think, Anezka?" Nadia turned to the girl.
Nez nodded slowly, still chewing. She probably had no idea what a red poppy was.
Breakfast proceeded in that fashion, like nothing bad had happened the night before. Riordan kept finding himself wondering if Nadia was going to suddenly apologize, or rebuke him, but no. Water under the bridge, it appeared to be.
They rode out from the Blue Lily with the rising sun. Anezka seemed to have grown more comfortable and grilled Nadia with a constant stream of questions, which the sorceress answered graciously and patiently. Normally Riordan preferred the long, quiet rides he shared with Akari. As he looked over and saw Nadia laughing at something Anezka had just asked her, he decided this wasn't so bad. He idly wondered how Akari and Fia were doing. Probably fine. Akari was good with people, as witchers went.
A little later, Nez was riding Kreveson while Riordan and Nadia were walking the horses by the reins. The girl had gone quiet since moving to give Frost a break. The Giant had expected it to stay that way.
"Aunt Nana says you fight monsters." Nez said. Quiet. Shy.
"Hm?" Riordan rumbled, looking up at her, then over at Nadia. The mage was suddenly interested in a distant flight of birds. "Aye. It's true. I fight monsters."
"Aunt Nana says I'm gonna fight monsters, too." Nez said.
"Aye. You are." Riordan confirmed.
"That sounds scary." Nez said.
"It can be." Riordan said. "You won't have to for a long time. We'll teach you how. Then, uhm…then you'll be able to help people." That sounded good.
"Papa says witchers are mean. He says they're stealers." Anezka went on.
"Some are mean. Sometimes we have to be mean" Riordan said.
"Aunt Nana says you're a nice witcher. Is Fia's witcher a nice one?" Nez said.
Fia's witcher. Riordan thought with a chuckle.
"She is. Nicer than me." Riordan said, truthfully.
"Will I get to see Fia again?" Nez asked.
"You will." Riordan said. Of course, he couldn't know that, but it seemed like the right thing to say. New refinements had made the process of becoming a witcher more survivable. About half of Riordan's "class" had made it through the Trials, an improvement from the previous two to four out of ten. Cold comfort, but better than nothing.
The questions kept coming. Riordan kept answering. It was odd, seeing such innocence, being spoken to like he was just another person.
And I'm taking that innocence away. He thought. No. The world will take it. It always does. I'm giving her a chance to carve her own path. To fight back and solve some of the problems of the world, rather than be a victim, rather than be just another farm wife wondering when armies will burn her lands or a werewolf will take her children in the night. She may never thank me. I've never thanked Skarin. But she will help this world keep moving forward.
He couldn't let himself off the hook so easily. But you are the reason she might die. The reason she'll have to endure the pain of the Trials. The reason she'll likely end up a chewed corpse in some dark cave.
No matter how much Riordan tried to fully accept that guilt, he returned to the same thought over and over.
Someone has to take that risk and make that stand.
As Riordan's turn as the designated question answerer went on, he did not miss Nadia's occasional glances with a smirk on her face.
"You should ask Uncle Riordan to tell you one of his saga tales." The sorceress said out of the blue.
"What's that?" Anezka asked.
"It's a story, but an epic one." Nadia said.
Riordan growled deep in his throat. Nadia looked innocent as could be. Unfortunately, he saw the eagerness in Anezka's face for a story and found himself unable to say no.
"Alright. Well, let's see here. Uhm." Riordan wracked his brain for one that a child could comprehend and wouldn't be full of the blood feuds, ravenous beasts, and overly elaborate descriptions of naked people that tended to be part of them. "We're going to Skellige. I'll tell you the story of how it got there. The Saga of Lac and Skeldja." Riordan cleared his throat, beginning the tale in the traditional Skelliger way. "A tale I tell you now, a true one, of things long ago…"
Long before man walked this earth, there lived three brothers; Lir, Nid, and Lac. The brothers were giants, you see, each taller than a house, taller than the trees, and they shook the ground when they walked. Of the three, Lac was the youngest, and though he would be mighty compared to you and me, among his brothers, he was the least in strength. Because of this, he became cunning.
In those days, the only light in the sky was the starts, and each day the brothers went out and hunted by their light. One day, as they went out to hunt, the brothers encountered a woman; a dark-haired, beautiful giantess. She was so beautiful that all three brothers decided that they would marry her and no other. However, the brothers' bonds with each other were strong. They did not want to fight each other, even over this great beauty. So, they approached her, asking her name, and what they might do to earn her love.
"I am Skeldja", said the giantess, "and the man I marry must be strong and wise. Whichever of you can throw one of those stones over there the furthest, you will have my favor."
Now, these stones were no pebbles on a shore. They were huge, too big for a whole village of people like you and me to lift. Lir, being the eldest , picked up the first stone and said, "I will throw this boulder into the sky, and there it will forever stay, as a sign of my love for Skeldja." And he hurled the stone with all his might. It soared up into the sky, and true to his word, there it stayed, and has stayed ever since, for that is how the moon came to be.
Nid, the middle brother, was equal in strength to Lir. He used the ancient magics to set his stone on fire, then picked it up without being burned. "I will throw this boulder into the sky, and there it will forever stay, as a sign of my love for Skeldja." And he hurled the stone with all his might. It soared up into the sky, and true to his word, there it stayed, and has stayed ever since, for that is how the sun came to be.
Lac's turn came, and he knew he could not match his brothers in might, but he was the craftiest of the three. He said to them, "brothers, I cannot be as strong as you, and I cannot match your magics. Please, help me find a stone that is more suited to me. I cannot win, but I must do my best."
And so Lir and Nid went to help their youngest brother, for such was only fair. However, when the elder two brothers were apart, Lac first went to Lir and said, "brother, you are clearly the best of us, but Skeldja's eyes keep turning to Nid's stone, the way it burns so brightly. When I throw mine and she watches it, leap up and grab Nid's, and pull it away, so only yours will be there for her to see." And Lir agreed, for he knew of his brother's wisdom.
Then Lac went to Nid and said, "brother, you are clearly the best of us, but Skeldja's eyes keep turning to Lir's stone, the way it glows so gently. When I throw mine and she watches it, leap up and grab Lir's, and pull it away, so only yours will be there for her to see." And Nid agreed, for he knew of his brother's wisdom.
Finally, Lac found his stone, and hurled it into the sky. Skeldja watched it rise and then fall into the sea, and while she did this, Lir and Nid leapt up as their youngest brother suggested. Each grabbed his opposite's boulder and began pulling with all their might. Being equal in strength, the two giants began moving at the same speed. Neither could let himself be beaten by the other. This is why the sun and moon move across the sky, for even to this day they try to outdo each other.
Where Lac's stone fell into the sea, it broke apart into many islands. He turned to Skeldja and said, "I give you this new land as a wedding gift, and I name it Skellige, for it is as beautiful as you are."
And so the two of them went to these new islands, starting a family of their own, and lived happily ever after.
"...so the tale ends, and you may wonder if it's true, but to that I ask; does it really matter?" Riordan concluded in the traditional way, feeling pleased with himself, looking up at Anezka to see her reaction.
The girl was slumped forward in the saddle, fast asleep.
"Mmph." Riordan grunted.
"For what it's worth, I rather enjoyed your story. I especially liked your voices for the giants. I didn't think you could make yours go any deeper, I could feel it right here." Nadia tapped a knuckle on her sternum.
His first instinct was to think she was mocking him, but logically Riordan knew better than that by now.
"Well…glad someone liked it." The witcher said. Maybe it had been worth it, then. "Actual story ends with Skeldja killing Lac for being a treacherous prick and using his blood to make the first Skelligers."
"Ah. That would explain the rather abrupt ending. I would say it was for the best." Nadia said.
They were silent for a few minutes, the road passing slowly beneath them.
"Riordan." Nadia got his attention.
"Hm?"
"I am sorry."
Riordan tilted his head. "For?"
"Last night." Nadia clarified.
The witcher closed his eyes. "Don't be."
"It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable. I merely wanted to…well, I suppose I'm not even sure what I thought I was trying to do. I can only ask your forgiveness." Nadia went on.
Riordan actually felt himself getting angry. No. Angry wasn't the right word. Frustrated. At himself for his reaction. At her for being too damn good to be worrying about him but not seeing it.
"It's my fault. I'm sorry." Riordan corrected her.
"How is it your fault?" Nadia asked him.
"...don't know. Just feels like it is." Riordan admitted.
The sorceress shook her head. "It was a misunderstanding. One that won't happen again. It's alright, Riordan. You haven't done anything wrong."
"I want it to happen again." Riordan said, barely audible.
"What was that?" Nadia asked.
She had, of course, heard him the first time.
"I said I want it to happen again. That misunderstanding." Riordan repeated himself, loud enough to make Nez stir in her sleep. His face grew warm and it felt like a drowner was swimming in his stomach.
The fact that Nadia was smiling was the only hint that Riordan was about to get an unexpected answer.
"Oh, that was plain as day, Master Witcher. I would, too, if I were you. And I may even be so inclined to allow it to happen someday. In its time. Everything in its time." Nadia said with her usual confidence.
That seemed to settle the matter.
"Everything in its time." Riordan parroted softly.
And the road went ever onward.