The White Werewolf || Season One: Ties That Bind

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Outside Dorian, 1260

Robin swallowed nervously as they entered the swamp. She had a bad feeling that she couldn't shake.

It was probably nothing. One year was ending and another was beginning, and transitions were always difficult for mages. There was too much excess energy vibrating the air.

And the aura of this place unsettled her. Something awful had happened here. She could feel remnants of hatred and violence.

"Stay close," Geralt muttered. "There have been rumors of travelers disappearing. I think there's something here."

The sun was setting, so the light was low. There were a variety of trees and plants lining what passed for a road through the spongy terrain, but they were all ominously twisted and gnarled.

Jaskier nudged Cricket closer to Roach, peering into the distance. "I don't see anything," he admitted.

"And how often do we see something before it attacks us?" Robin asked tersely.

Jaskier's answering laugh was hollow as they continued forward at a steady pace.

After a few more steps, Geralt held up a hand so Jaskier would stop. He dismounted and unsheathed his silver sword, moving ahead of them, his head swiveling back and forth constantly.

The plants on the side of the road shifted subtly, then let loose a volley of green poison, all of which hit Geralt.

Robin was off of Roach and running to him in the next moment. "Robin, those things!" Jaskier called after her.

She raised her hand and all of the plants exploded in balls of flame. Geralt's silver sword clattered to the ground as he tumbled, his breathing labored.

"No, no, no, no!" Robin whispered, falling to her knees beside him and pulling his head into her lap.

He was unconscious. Her head spun as she saw her final vision start to come true right in front of her.

But she couldn't panic. If she panicked, he would die.

"Robin, no!" Jaskier shouted.

She turned and glared at him. She had no idea what he was saying no to.

"You're on fire!" he choked out, gesturing to her.

She looked down at herself. Jaskier was right. Her whole body was coated in flames.

She gasped as she remembered what the fire had said, then gasped again as Geralt unexpectedly sat up and grabbed her hand.

"No, little mage," he growled. "The fire won't help."

Jaskier's mouth dropped open as he watched the flames surrounding his sister's body instantly go out.

"Don't die, Geralt, please," she begged, tears filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.

His skin paled and the veins around his lips turned green. She sobbed audibly, starting to shake.

"Melitele," the witcher gasped before slumping down into her lap again, falling unconscious once more.

Robin calmed instantly and murmured, "Of course."

She squeezed Geralt's limp hand, putting her other arm around his shoulders.

"Melitele?" Jaskier wondered, coming up beside them. "The goddess?"

"Her temple is nearby, in Ellander. They can heal him." Her mouth set in a determined line. "I'm going to portal the two of us there. It's not far, so I think I can do it. But I can't take you and the horses too."

"I'll follow with them. We won't be long." Jaskier bent and kissed her forehead, then backed up. "Be safe, Robin."

She closed her eyes and cast the spell.

It was clumsy, but it worked.

As they both thumped to the ground outside of the temple, she started screaming for help.