Author's Note:

Hi all and welcome new readers! There's been a bit of activity on this fanfic recently (not sure why exactly) so I've decided to finish off the chapter that was languishing on my computer. Apologies as always for the long breaks between chapters these days - I do actually know where this story is going to an extent but we're at a point now where I can't shy away from making worldbuilding decisions. Maybe one day there'll be canon explorations of these places/topics but for now, I'll take a bit of informed artistic license with the whole thing. If Netflix can mess up every timeline/character arc and still build an entire collection of content off of this franchise, then I'm sure I'll be pardoned for any minor slip-ups here and there. Enjoy and hope to see you soon.

Ward of Kaer Morhen – Chapter 15

RECAP:

"Who are you?" Nym asked, her voice faltering at the sight of the woman standing a few feet from the bed she was lying in.

The room was illuminated by candlelight, but she still couldn't make much of her surroundings. She blinked repeatedly, hoping her vision and mind would clear enough to get a better look at her surroundings and her captor.

"Slowly now, do not strain yourself.." The woman's accented voice said, soft but firm.

"Where are we?" Nym asked again, almost in a whisper.

"Drink some water," ordered the woman, picking up a goblet and handing it to Nym, who did her best to prop herself up.

Nym peered into the goblet and downed the entire cup - it smelled like water and she was parched. Besides, those people could have hurt or killed her beforehand, in the forest or when she was unconscious. They wanted something first. She put the cup down limply in the bed and looked back up at the robed woman, finally taking in the sight of her.

The sorceress was wearing an ornate black and silver robe - or was it very dark green? Her skin was a deep chestnut colour, and her long black hair was intertwined with individual glossy braids, cuffed with intricate silver bands - this was someone important. Nym met the sorceress's eyes, rising up to sit in the bed.

"Please," Nym asked the woman once more. "Who are you?"

The woman's face was pained as she slowly moved towards Nym.

"I am your mother. I have brought you home."

"My mother?" Nym asked after a pause, her voice hoarse.

"How..?"

Her mother was dead, she had died giving birth to Nym. Nym had accepted that fact a long time ago - and endured the resentment of her brothers because of it. The person standing before was not her mother - she couldn't be.

"You were taken from here when you were very young." The woman said, a frown etched into her brow.

"Taken from where? What is your name? Please, help me to understand." Nym questioned, her voice straining as she straightened up in the bed.

She eyed the woman warily, not failing to notice the enormous brick-red markings tattooed into her neck and extending past her collarbones and into her blouse.

"Are you well enough to stand?" The woman asked.

"I-I think so," Nym said, her bones aching as she slowly placed her feet on the floor. Her knees and elbows were scraped up from falling, but she felt much more clear-headed, regardless of the bewildering conversation they were having.

"Come. Your shoes are here, at the door." The woman said, surveying her.

"Where are we going?" Nym asked, yanking her boots on, feeling clumsy beside the dignified woman beside her.

"The courtyard." The woman said simply, walking out of the door and down a long corridor.

The woman who claimed to be Nym's mother opened a set of ornate wooden double doors to reveal an enormous, lush courtyard littered with lanterns and fringed with trees. The scent of flowers and the heavy warmth of the outdoor space struck Nym immediately as she exited the hallway behind the woman. People were milling around in the far corners of the large, gravel-filled courtyard, and a small fountain bubbled away in the middle of it. Nym heard the sound of some sort of instrument in the far distance, strings being plucked in a slightly melancholic way. An instrument she'd never heard in her life.

The woman turned to Nym, giving her a half-smile as they emerged out of the arched corridor bordering the courtyard and took their seats on two carved stone stools not far from the fountain. There was a stillness in the air all of a sudden. As the woman had made her way out into the courtyard, other people in the distance had quieted their chatter. She scanned their faces, their clothing and jewelry. They looked nothing like the villagers, townspeople or cityfolk she had ever seen. Nym gulped away the disorienting sight of the place she had suddenly arrived in. She was a long way from the Northern Kingdoms.

"Where are we exactly?" Nym whispered, casting a look up at the sky, which was littered with stars.

"This is one of the Queen's palaces. We are in the East, in Zerikkania." The woman said, also taking in their surroundings.

"The Queen..? I have no memory of this place."

"You were less than a year old when you were taken to the Northern Kingdoms. We.. we have spent a long time looking for you." The woman's eyes glanced from corner to corner of the shadowy hallways around the courtyard.

Guards were standing around all of the exits, Nym realized. They were all women, just like the group of women who had abducted her from Kaer Morhen.

"Who is we?" Nym asked, her voice trembling.

The woman nodded subtly, prompting a small group of the women to leave their posts and gather closer around the two of them. The women were dressed in a type of armour she'd never seen before - with leather bracers and ornate fitted bronze breastplates. They all wore their hair in different styles, and their skin rippled with lean muscle.

One of the women had her hair entirely buzzed off, also with an enormous brick-red tattoo running from her chin down into her breastplate, connecting to the insides of her strong arms and out towards her palms. Another woman with long, jet-black braids had two glinting daggers at her waist. Another had a curved sword at her hip. Nym's eyes darted to the one on the very right, who had what looked like a metal whip at her side and a grisly scar around her neck. One by one they approached the sorceress and touched her feet, putting their hands to their heads after - some gesture of respect, she assumed.

"Alaith, Rhonn, Cahara, Tiyma." She said, pointing them out one by one and pronouncing the names in a way Nym knew she wouldn't be able to repeat or remember.

"And yours?" Nym asked gently, looking back at the woman.

"My name is Tsarra Kaan Avel'Eathor. I am the High Priestess of Zerikkania, and the women before you are part of the Royal Guard," said the woman, nodding at the women once more to leave them be.

"The Royal Guard?" Nym asked, more discombobulated than ever.

"As High Priestess, I hold the highest rank in the Queen's court. They go where I go."

"What am I to call you, in that case..?" Nym asked, a hint of panic in her voice after hearing the words 'Queen','Palace' and 'Royal Guard'.

"We have been apart since you were an infant, and you do not speak the Zerikkanian tongue. Tsarra will do for now."

"Tsarra, am I saying it correctly?" Nym asked.

"No." The woman confirmed.

Nym blinked, not sure how to interpret her abrupt manner of speech.

"Oh… Well, I'm Nymeia. I prefer Nym, though." Nym said with some trepidation.

"Nymeia? The name I gave you was Arkhyr. Arkhyr Kaan Avel'Eathor. We used to call you Khyrra." Tsarra said, her eyes hardening.

"Khyrra.." Nym said, the name entirely unfamiliar to her. She wracked her brain for a memory of this place, this woman, and came up short once again.

"Nymeia or Nym will do for now, if you prefer." Tsarra sniffed, smoothing her gown.

"I'm sorry," Nym said, looking up at the dignified, straight-backed woman in front of her and feeling slightly embarrassed at herself.

"Do not be sorry. I am the one who is sorry," Tsarra said quietly.

Nym didn't know what to say, so she sat silent, turning her gaze back up to the stars.

"Would you like something to eat?" Tsarra asked suddenly, rising from her seat. "This is one of the smaller city palaces, but the food is still quite good."

Nym looked up at Tsarra, realizing she was famished after resting for so long. She wrestled with the urge to ask more questions. If this was where she was from, why was she taken away? How did they locate her after decades had passed? When could she go back? Why had her father lied to her all of these years?

"Go back to who..?" Her mind muttered back to her.

Images of Eskel, Vesemir and Geralt appeared as she wracked her brain for an answer, the pain of their previous encounter still aching away under her chest. Were the Witchers her home? Would they have ever been? She would have had to leave the Keep eventually, even if she had stayed. They had their own way of life, their Paths laid out before them since their transition. Not to mention.. the way Geralt had looked at her when they last spoke. The lack of warmth in their final conversation almost entirely confirmed things for her. She didn't dare imagine the place she had called 'home' before Eskel had rescued her. That had never been a home. There was no home to go back to.

Nym's stomach growled, causing her to quell the rapid-fire thoughts, her head had started feeling battered again due to the lack of food and water.

"Something to eat would be nice.. Perhaps a bath as well?" Nym said to Tsarra, who nodded and led her back into the halls of the palace.

Geralt woke to the smell of dried leaves and the sound of Eskel snoring lightly beside him in the clearing they had slept in last night. It had been a long and slippery journey down from Kaer Morhen to the woods surrounding the cliffs of the mountain. His stomach grumbled - they had cooked up a hare for dinner, which hadn't been enough food for either of them. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the woods, his keen vision and hearing picking up the sounds of the tranquil forest, shedding its leaves. The forest floor smelled like moss, mushrooms, and the whispers of the winter season. It was beginning to get properly cold now, and the wind had been picking up around them during their descent over the past few days.

He sat upright, running a hand through his hair. Roach snorted softly, only a few metres away. He felt around in his pocket for the orange agate stone, ensuring it was still safely there. He had tucked Nym's letter into his vest pocket after reading it, which was also still in its place. It was already dawn, and they would have to feed the horses and get going as soon as possible if they were to reach Kaedwen anytime soon. Geralt's mind filled again with his last memory of that place, and of finding Nym tucked underneath that table with a chain around her ankle. "What horrible luck for Nym," he thought to himself, realizing that she might have remained safe had he not come upon her.

"Nightmares again..?" Croaked Eskel from opposite him.

"Not quite," Geralt replied - a lie.

He had been consumed with them since the day they'd lost Nym to the sorceress. His eyes sat dark and deep set in his face from the lack of sleep, and his mood had been foul the entire trip. He'd be lucky if Eskel didn't abandon him halfway for better company.

"Oh don't look so glum, we're going to find her," Eskel said, dusting himself off as he rose. He offered Geralt a hand up.

"Why are you so sure? We don't know what they wanted with her. What if she's not there at all?" Geralt replied, the image of Blue caught up in a trap and whinnying in distress as Nym was dragged away playing in his mind.

"We just will, I know it," Eskel said, grinning at Geralt.

Truth be told, Eskel did not know it. His smiling and banter masked days worth of his own fretting, but he knew Geralt, and Geralt hadn't had that look in his eye for years. His brother looked like he hadn't slept in over a week, and his brow was permanently set in a hard frown. He wasn't even talking to his horse anymore. The descent down from the Keep had been a mostly silent journey, with Eskel making a quip here and there to keep the thick air from swallowing them whole. Gods, he was intolerable when he got like this, but there would be an end to the story even if it ended Geralt as well - Eskel knew it almost for a fact.

It was late afternoon by the time they passed Ard Carraigh. The two Witchers had chosen to ride across the plains closer to the mountains bordering them on the East, where they were least likely to be interrupted. The horses rode hard, their breath visible in the Autumn chill.

"Easy, Roach," said Geralt, slowing his horse as they began to near civilization again. There was no point in making a scene right away. A coach ambled by them in the sunset, carrying a few local lords and ladies, no doubt. Now would not be a good time to speed towards Nym's old homestead in a full gallop.

"What do you expect we'll find there?" Eskel asked, slowing his horse to ride beside Geralt.

"Not sure, but be ready for a fight. Her father and brothers keep rough company - we might be outnumbered." Geralt said, gritting his teeth.

"Oh good, that'll be fun," Eskel said, smirking.

"Don't kill anybody though, I'm not sure she'd like that.." Geralt muttered.

"No promises," Eskel replied, chuckling at his brother.

It was good that Eskel was still able to find his sense of humour, Geralt thought to himself. Over the course of the last two days, he had realized that he would have had a hard time staying sane without him.

When had he become so imbalanced? Was it when Nym had been abducted, or was it long before that, when she'd unceremoniously found a place in his heart? He exhaled as the vision of her against the stone walls of the Keep balcony with her eyes fixed up at the moon appeared in his head again.

"How long until we get there?" Eskel asked, interrupting his train of thought.

"An hour at this speed, we'll be there by sundown," Geralt responded, looking up at the sky.

The pair had been careful to stay away from the nearby towns, not wanting to attract too much attention. If there was a fight ahead, it was best that the Salskin family had no prior warning. Geralt's jaw twitched as he thought of Nym's father and brothers, and the sordid state in which she'd been kept at their homestead while they were away. She had endured so much but had somehow found a way to remain unbroken by it all. He winced slightly, recalling the gleeful way in which she had laughed, running across the cobblestones to Kaer Morhen when they had first arrived. The way she had won Vesemir over immediately with her silent good nature and way around the kitchen. The way she and Eskel had become fast friends, and how she'd delicately balanced the situation between them all. He had had the opportunity to keep her safe and content and had squandered it entirely, trapped in his insecurities and inability to communicate. Geralt laughed dryly to himself. It was him who hadn't been able to speak plainly with her - something he had managed to do even while she had no voice of her own.

"Are you going to tell me at all how you're feeling, or are you just going to stew in it the entire time?" Asked Eskel, his eyebrow raised.

"Stew in it, thank you," Geralt muttered back.

Eskel rolled his eyes from beside him, expecting nothing less.

They reached the Salskin homestead just as the early Autumn sun considered dipping back down. The sky was tinged with pink and gold, the grasses in the meadows highlighted by the first rays of the sunset. Geralt peered into the distance as they neared the house, the lack of activity evident to him immediately.

"The chimney, there's no smoke," Geralt noticed.

"Maybe they've gone to bed early.." Eskel muttered back, bringing his house around the corner.

"Dismount here," Geralt said, sliding off of Roach's back.

As they neared the homestead, it became apparent that Geralt was right. There was no evidence of woodsmoke, no sounds of horses, and the pigs and chickens were safely in their pens.

"Are we going inside?" Eskel asked, his sharp ears picking out the sounds in their environment.

Geralt nodded.

The door was locked, but a quick shove from Eskel took it off its hinges. There was nobody inside, as expected. A few of the family's belongings lay scattered around the house. A shearling coat here, some boots on the floor, and some goblets of wine on the cluttered kitchen counter. Geralt gritted his teeth at the sight of the exotic hunting trophies and furs in the sitting area by the fire. Eskel walked into the kitchen, opening each drawer one by one and finding nothing out of the ordinary.

"Upstairs," Geralt said. "That's where I found her."

The pair ventured up the creaky stairs, golden rays of light filtering in through the windows. There were four rooms upstairs, not including the bathroom and a large closet in the hallway. Geralt walked immediately towards the room he had found Nym in, opening the door to find that almost nothing had changed in there since the night they had met. There were no more Griffin feathers or blood in the house, but Nym's pallet and chains were still there, up against the wall as they had been the first time he had seen her. Eskel let out a low whistle as he scanned the room, noticing quickly that it was a store room of sorts, and not at all a bedroom.

Geralt stalked over to the wardrobe, ripping the door open to find Nym's old belongings. Just like the clothes he had discovered her in, there was nothing in there that suggested that she was more than a servant to this house. Ignoring the lingering scent of her that emanated from the wardrobe, he flicked through the linen shirts, trousers and skirts and found nothing of note. A small chest of drawers sat in the corner of the room, which he opened to discover some similarly plain underclothes and a small wooden box with a latch.

"Geralt.." Eskel's voice came from behind him, a warning.

"There might be something here about where she's been taken," Geralt responded. This wasn't the right time to be delicate.

The box contained a myriad of little items Nym had seemingly plucked from her surroundings and kept for herself. A piece of sea glass, a few luminescent feathers, a bunch of dried lavender, a small pearl, a pale pink kerchief, and a scrap of paper that contained a list of shopping in someone else's handwriting. Eggs, milk, cheddar, thyme, a loaf of bread, a pound of ham, it read.

Geralt rubbed his brow, tucking the piece of paper back into the box. He pushed away a ridiculous imagined sensation of burning in his fingers. It was just a piece of paper, but she had saved it for a reason - probably because she found it endearing in some way. He twiddled the sprigs of lavender between his fingers, the scent of the dried buds filling his lungs. Geralt closed the box softly and turned around, the air in the dusty room heavy around him.

"What's this?" Eskel asked, picking up a worn-looking book from the corner of the room and tossing it to Eskel.

"Basic Incantation - The Ban Ard Academy…" Geralt muttered, reading the cover.

"Isn't that the sorcerer's school in Kaedwen?"

"Think so, but I'm not sure this belongs to Nym. It's a schoolbook." Geralt said, flicking through the book and putting it down again.

"Hold on. Do you hear that?" Eskel asked quietly.

There was a faint noise of footsteps outside, and then a sound like tiny pebbles being shaken in a can. He drew his sword, careful not to make any noise as the two made their way down the stairs. There was no one in the home, but someone was definitely outside.

Geralt exited first, creaking open the heavy front door. There was a cloaked woman standing meters away, hunched over and shaking a can of feed into the chicken coop, a lamp in the other hand. She spun around, sensing their presence - just enough time for Geralt to sheathe his sword.

"Who're you?" She asked, startled by the two giant men before her.

"We could ask the same of you," Eskel replied.

"Was asked to feed the 'ens and the pigs. Forgot to in the morning, they've been 'ungry all day." She said, jutting her chin towards the coops.

"Are the family away somewhere?" Geralt asked.

"Who's asking? Do you have business with the Salskins?" The lady questioned, raising her brow at the two of them.

"We do, yes," Eskel replied.

"Always been a bit tricky 'aven't they?" The woman said, her face cracking into a wry smile. "They're at the Autumn fair, in the big city there - Ard Carraigh." She said, turning her back towards the two Witchers and chuckling drily. "Don't tell 'em I sent you."

"Thank you." Eskel glanced at Geralt, who was already making his way towards the horses.

Of course. Lise's sister Deidre had mentioned that the Salskin family attended the Autumn fair every year. It would draw merchants from every corner of the Northern Kingdom.

"To Ard Carraigh then..?" Eskel said, mounting his horse.

"Yes.. but there was a bit of trouble when Nym and I last left it. We'll have to keep low, find a different way inside." Geralt replied.

"I might be able to help with that," Eskel replied, nodding.

"How?" Geralt asked, nudging Roach back onto the path that led North, towards the city.

"You'll see."

"Tsarra.." Nym began - the name still uncomfortable to say. "Could I ask.. What happened to my horse?"

"He is safe with the stablehands," Tsarra replied, leading Nym down the halls, presumably to some sort of dining area.

"Can I please see him?"

"Yes, but you should eat something first, you were unconscious for quite a while," Tsarra answered.

Nym decided not to press the matter, realizing that this person was not accustomed to being denied.

They approached a set of large doors guarded by two women who nodded their heads curtly at Tsarra, opening the doors to allow them through. Nym let out a little gasp as the palace dining area came into view behind Tsarra's frame. It was enormous.

A dozen or so rows of long, lacquered wooden tables with ornate carvings and pearlescent inlays filled the room. It wasn't crowded, but there were at least a handful of people at every table. The dining area was half-open to another courtyard, where huge rectangular coal pits rimmed with stones sat crackling and glowing in the night. The scent of roasting meat filled the warm air in the dining area. As the two of them entered, Nym could see men outside tending to the coal pits, placing fresh skewers of meat onto metal racks atop the hot coals. There were two large wooden counters on either side of the dining hall, where more men appeared from the kitchens to pile fresh rice, cooked vegetables, and fruit onto brass platters.

"Will this do, or would you like to dine in private?" Tsarra asked, noticing Nym's open-mouthed stare.

"This'll do," Nym mumbled back, deciding at that moment to deal with any and all questions after she'd eaten some food.

She watched Tsarra as they made their way towards the edge of the room. A group of robed women hurriedly emptied the long table closest to the buffet of food, presumably in reverence of Tsarra. Nym picked out the glint of a few swords in the courtyard - the group of fearsome women from earlier.

"Help yourself," Tsarra said, motioning to the food.

Nym followed Tsarra's lead, picking up a hammered bronze plate and beginning to serve herself. There were several platters of long-grained rice, folded with nuts and raisins, a puree of greens that was spiced with something indistinguishable, and large chunks of roasted meat.

"What is this?" Nym asked, gesturing to one of the other meat dishes on the counter.

"The grilled meat is lamb, and that stew is braised gamefowl, with figs," Tsarra replied, taking much more of a meagre helping than Nym.

Nym nodded, trying not to salivate. This was more food than she'd ever seen.

"I hope the food will be to your liking. It will not taste like anything you have had in past, I don't think." Tsarra said plainly as they took a seat at the long empty table nearest to them.

"Thank you," Nym said, pouring water into two copper cups on the table and downing hers instantly.

"Please, eat. You must be hungry." Tsarra said.

She didn't have to tell Nym twice. The famished girl tucked into her meal without hesitation, glancing up now and then to observe her surroundings. The food did taste like nothing she'd ever had before. There were spices in the meat that she was sure she'd never be able to identify. The greens were bitter and peppery, unlike the simple root vegetables she was accustomed to. There were hints of citrus and molasses dotting the rice and the stewed poultry - two flavours she'd never tasted in tandem with each other.

"Is it.. to your liking?" Tsarra asked, a cautious look on her face.

Nym nodded back, her cheeks full of roasted meat. She swore Tsarra's eyes softened a little then.

The two finished their meals, the hum of the voices around them providing some relief to their otherwise silent table.

"Thank you, the food was delicious," Nym uttered finally, downing more water.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Would you like to retire for the evening? I can have a bath drawn for you." Tsarra asked, sliding her plate to one side.

Nym shook her head slightly.

"Not right away. I'd like to talk a little more about what's happened if you don't mind."

"Very well," Tsarra replied, looking away at her guards.

"You said I was taken away - by who?" Nym inquired gently, realizing that this was not a happy topic for Tsarra.

"Before you were born, Zerikkania had been in the midst of a long period of drought. A lack of water also meant fewer crops and fewer hunts. The Queen had implemented water and food rations, but suffering and starvation were still widespread. There is only desert for miles, you see. Our cities, like this one, are built on small oases - all far apart. Outside of some nomadic tribes, humans cannot inhabit this place. We have survived here for centuries, but some of those years have been difficult."

Nym blinked as she took in the information. The context within Tsarra's answer seemed heavy and unfamiliar to her, she had never even read about Zerikkania in detail. She nodded for her to continue.

"What happened as a result of the drought?"

"The Queen Merineaevelth and her council, myself included, established a trade agreement with the Northern Kingdoms. In exchange for food, water and supplies, their tradespeople would be escorted into our cities, and allowed to export our goods in exchange."

"Is that how..?"

"Yes. That is how I assume you were taken away from here." Tsarra replied, her voice unsteady.

Nym looked around the room and the courtyard, which was emptying out slowly.

"By who?" Nym asked, already knowing the answer for herself.

"I'm not certain. We made guesses as the years passed, but I thought you might be able to tell me."

Nym knew exactly who Tsarra was referring to. An image of her father came to mind immediately, causing her to relive their last encounter in the attic. He had paced around the house all day, keeping a watchful eye on Nym as her brothers made preparations to leave. Her previous escape attempts meant that he refused to leave her alone at home without confining her to her room. Riffon had chained her up himself, tossing her an empty bucket, a loaf of bread, some dried goods and water before they'd left the house. Her father had come into the room right before they set off to throw a book in her direction as a form of goodbye. It was a tattered old schoolbook from some academy in Kaedwen. Nym had kicked it to the opposite side of her room after they left.

"My father told me that my mother had run away with another man and died during childbirth. He agreed to take me in and raise me as his daughter," said Nym, her eyes shifting in and out of focus as she gazed towards the coal pits.

"Your father? What is his name?" Tsarra asked, her lip curling in disgust.

"Auborn Salskin. I have two older brothers - Teruin and Ryffon."

"Salskin… that name is not familiar to me," Tsarra said, her hands fidgeting before her.

"None of that is true, then…?" Nym asked, still looking away into the night.

"No. This man who claims he is your father is a liar. You were stolen from us." Tsarra said, her words seeming to echo around the quiet dining hall.

"Us?"

"Your father is a Zerikkanian. As am I, and as are you."

Her actual father?

Nym's brow furrowed in pain as she tried to comprehend what she was hearing.

"So what should I do now? About all of this?" She whispered.

Tsarra reached over to her and grasped her hand, causing Nym to snap back into her body and make eye contact with the woman in front of her.

"You should rest. Tomorrow morning I will take you to your horse. We will speak again then." Tsarra said, her green and grey eyes steadfast and focused on Nym's.

Nothing about this woman was outwardly comforting, Nym realized. But.. she knew that look in her mother's eyes as soon as she saw it. It was a looking glass. There was some comfort to be found in that, at least.