The Divine Hunter

Chapter 514: Yennefer

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

My dear friend,

Ever since our last meeting at Belleteyn two years ago, I’ve never gotten any news of you. But in the aftermath of the Battle of Sodden, rumors are making the rounds. Rumors that the northern brotherhood has sustained heavy losses.

Unable to hold my worry in, I have scoured the Hill of the Eight myself. When I saw that your name was not among one of the ones who died, I was overjoyed. Words alone aren’t enough to paint a picture of my feelings.

I can never forget about you Yen. In my years of dull, uninteresting life, you’re one of the rare sparks that make life worth living. Without you by my side, I find myself spacing out more times than I care to count. Your face keeps popping up in my head. I can never forget the smell of lilac and gooseberries. I can never forget the curls of your hair or the beauty mark right at the corner of your lips.

One thing I wish to know is if you’re fine.

I have caught wind about your participation in the war. Are you hurt? If you are, is it bad? Do you need someone to take care of you?

Say the word, and I’ll come to you.

But my dear friend, if you’re in the pink of health, then will you be gracious enough to meet me at my home? I have found the gift of Destiny as you mentioned and took her home. Ciri is her name, but now she goes by the alias of Falka.

I do not know many sorcerers, and you’re the one I trust the most. I trust that you can keep this a secret. Please, do come over and take a look at the gift Destiny has given us.

I eagerly await your arrival.

Your friend,

Geralt

***

Yennefer was sitting before her dressing table, and she closed the letter. She was in a black dress and a white shirt with lace sleeves and hem. The sorceress stared into the mirror, where a pale, sharp face looked back at her. Her violet eyes shimmered with allure, and her lips curled with a smile.

Geralt’s not one to speak or express his emotions. He hides it well, only showing it very rarely, like tortoises peeking their heads out during sunny days. And even if he does speak, he does it in a very roundabout way. He never is this straightforward and daring. It’s one step short of those three words at this point. “I wonder who’s the one who taught you how to write this letter, Geralt.”

Still, Yennefer was delighted by the letter. That headstrong witcher finally bowed his head, and he actually found his Unexpected Child like she suggested. I should grant him his little wish. And the girl’s name is Ciri, huh? She frowned. That’s a name I’m very familiar with. The one name talked by the management of the brotherhood and kings of the northern kingdoms.

Yennefer quickly dappled her lips with glistening lipstick and slid a pair of black gloves over her hands. She stood up and pointed her finger behind her, the light of magic shooting into the air. A bang rumbled the room, and a square portal appeared in the center of the resplendent bedchamber. Yennefer stepped into it.

***

The carriage trundled through the muddy path behind Seven Cats Inn, stopping before a patch of alder woods. A pair of black heels hit the ground, and the petite sorceress sauntered down the path in the woods, her eyes glinting with curiosity. Despite being a path in the woods, it was covered with bluestone slabs, unlike the squalid paths most villages had.

There were human-shaped signposts every few yards, pointing in the right direction so no one would get lost. Along the path, beautiful flowers bloomed in the wind, their scent filling the air with the beauty of life. The scenery was beautiful, and the short journey alone wasn’t enough to soak in the entirety of it.

Yennefer came to her destination and looked at the signboard that read ‘House of Gawain,’ and she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Is this really a witcher fortress? Shouldn’t it be more… desolate?

The compound was circled by a fence, and a few wooden houses stood tall under the beaming sun. A mural of a blue sky and white clouds adorned the walls, and doodles of children holding hands in a dance stood under the sky.

A black wiener dog was happily darting around the yard, its flappy ears flapping about as it ran around, barking quietly. A pair of witchers she had never seen before were toiling in the fields, teaching three kids archery.

The gray-haired Vesemir stood in a shack that looked like a smithy, swinging his hammer around, tempering the base of a chest armor. Sounds of recital came from the classroom, and the sight of students in the classroom almost made Yennefer think she came to an institution for nobility.

There was a willow tree on the right side of the yard, and seven kids who were no older than ten years old were engaged in one-on-one swordplay training or dodging the spinning pendulum. These children were far more agile than kids their age.

A terrible rumbling crashed overhead, and Yennefer tensed up as she witnessed a griffin charging out of the woods, spiraling overhead. It flapped its wings, stirring up a storm as it let out a happy roar.

What is this place? Monsters roaming about in broad daylight? What are the witchers doing? An icy look took over the sorceress’ face, and she held her obsidian pendant, ready to battle. Runes shimmered and covered her in a barrier.

“Might you be Lady Yennefer? Worry not, Gryphon will not hurt you.” A gaunt witcher in a cloak and leather armor approached her from the fields, giving her a friendly smile. “Welcome to the House of Gawain. I am Auckes of the brotherhood.” The witcher extended his arm.

“Lytta Neyd, Triss Merigold, and Kalkstein. Triss, however, is not with us currently.”

“Triss has been in contact with you people? Then surely my friend has seen Geralt, and she’s kept it a secret all this time?” Yennefer clicked her tongue in astonishment. “And if I’m right, Coral has been absent from the brotherhood for more than a year, and she didn’t answer Vilgefortz’s call for battle. I see she’s been conducting experiments here.”

Auckes wiped his forehead. Oh snap. Perhaps I’ve told her more than what I should. “You may question them when you get the chance.”

“Lady Yennefer, do you know a lot of powerful magic? Are you stronger than Granny Lytta and Grandpa Kalkstein?” Ciri blurted.

Auckes buried his face in his hands.

“Am I hearing it right?” Yennefer covered her mouth, chuckling. “You called Lytta granny? Who made you say that?”

“Lambert did.”

“Ah, that explains a lot. That man’s tongue is going to be his downfall someday. And yes, I do know magic.”

The girl blushed and sheepishly asked, “Th-Then can you use some of that magic to turn me into a boy?”

“What did you say?” Yennefer shot the girl a sharp look.

“If I’m a boy, I can train my way up to be a witcher and train with Monti and the boys. Then I’ll get to kill drowners in the future. That’s a lot more fun than reading.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Yennefer cut in sharply, her hair jumping around. “Witcher mutations will do nothing but soil your power and bloodline. I can teach you something better.”

Auckes was displeased. How low does she think of us? How does becoming a witcher soil Ciri’s talent?

And then a commotion in the yard attracted Yennefer’s attention. Five boys with steel swords and dirty leather armor came out of the woods and entered the yard. They were slender, and the muscles on their forearms were taut, strong, and brimming with power.

The oldest of these boys was only thirteen. He looked lively and young, but there was an air of solemnity in his eyes not even adults had. Their eyes were amber, dark gold, and red in color. All had vertical pupils, much like the eyes of a beast.

They had pendants hanging around their necks, but the patterns were different. Some were cats, some were wolves, some were griffins, and some were vipers. All glittered with the light of magic.

They were like heroes who came back from the battlefield, victorious and triumphant. The kids who were in recess and those in training quickly huddled around the boys who came back, asking for gifts.

And then they were passing around small trinkets like the fangs or claws of wild beasts and monsters.

Even Ciri wanted to join in, but Auckes held her by the nape. “Sorry you had to see that. The lads just passed their Trial. Can’t manage more than searches for missing animals and a bit of drowner and nekker hunting. Geralt went along just to make sure they stayed safe.”

The White Wolf appeared from behind the children, looking deadpan. He scanned the boys who were bragging to the other children, then he turned to the left, and surprise filled his eyes.

He saw the woman he’d been dreaming about for years, and he noticed the scent of lilac and gooseberries wafting in the air.

Yennefer smiled at him.

“Yen, you made it. Still the same person I know.”

“But you, my dear friend, have changed a lot. Lost a bit of your wrinkles. You look younger too. Perhaps it’s because of your mingling with the children?” She pulled her bangs back. No longer was her hair tucked in her golden snood. Instead, it tumbled down her shoulders, and her clothes were the usual black and white.

An awkward look crept onto Geralt’s face, and he cursed himself. Roy vehemently told him to address Yennefer as ‘My dear,’ but Geralt, in all his obstinance, just had to add ‘friend’ after that. That was the only part where Geralt pushed through with his opinion, and that came to bite him in the ass.

Yennefer pursed her lips and pulled Ciri over. The girl stood between her and Geralt, then Ciri held Geralt’s hand, forming a connection between them.

“Your letter brings me endless joy, so I came to return the favor of that joy,” said Yennefer cryptically. “You did the right thing. Ciri … I mean, Falka is in a delicate position. You need a trusted confidant to teach her, naturally.”

Ciri looked at Geralt and the sorceress. She had a feeling Yennefer had the advantage in the relationship, and Geralt felt like he was bowing to her. A cheeky smile curled the girl’s lips as she came up with an idea to deal with Geralt if he tried to put her in a hard position.

“But first, tell me: what is it with this witcher brotherhood? To what ends does this organization serve?”

“Long story.”

“Patience is not in short supply.”