Once they had reached the river fork Gwenllech, the general direction to Kaer Morhen--if one knew that it was even in the Blue Mountains--was rather simple. The trick was spotting the gap in the granite wall leading to the correct gorge.
"Are you sure this is the right way? This just seems like a dense overgrown forest to me," Iespeth skeptically asked after they came out of the natural passage.
"Looks can be deceiving. And that is precisely the point. Very few know where Kaer Morhen is on purpose. There are secrets there that the general population need not know. And there are even more secrets that certain individuals shouldn't know either."
"You mean, like sorceresses and sorcerers?" Iespeth had gathered from some of Ciri's stories that most magical users where not all that trustworthy even though she was fascinated by them. They tended to have very secret agendas. What she had failed to recognize was that everyone had secrets and plans. And she herself was no different.
"Some, but not all," Ciri replied vaguely. Iespeth had been honest with her about her encounter with Rita. Ciri hoped nothing would come of it, but for safety's sake advised her companion to avoid skin to skin contact with mages. Iespeth was disappointed, but understood Ciri's reasoning. She decided to make sure she knew who she was to be meeting when they got there.
"So, Keira is a sorceress and she is paired to Lambert who is a-- what is he called? He is not a human."
"He's called a witcher," Ciri instructed.
"Yes. Lambert is a witcher which means Eskel is also a witcher. And who is the fourth?"
"Maya. You can't mistake her for anyone else due to her fiery red hair. She is a rather capable healer and will be able to help you with your hand. Also she is a...an elf. Like you."
Iespeth noticed her friend's hesitation, but wasn't sure what it meant.
The forest began to thin out a bit and opened up into a long, narrow valley. The two were lucky that the weather had been so pleasant mid-autumn even though the summers had become slightly longer year after year. In the middle of the valley, the Gwenllech, though at this point hardly recognizable as a river, trickled shallowly between the steep mountains. When Iespeth looked up she noticed a small tower and began to reevaluate her understanding of the word massive which Ciri had used often in her depiction of Kaer Mohren. As they came around one of the bends, the large Witcher fortress became visible, putting her doubts to rest. The large stone construction jutted proudly out of the side of a mountain which created a natural wall, needing no defense from the back side. Through the few pine trees, Iespeth could see what seemed to be balconies protruding out from one of the fortress' higher towers. I want to go up there. I want to see. I want to see all of this.
Iespeth could not keep her focus once they crossed the bridge into the barbican. The crumbling yet still formidable stone construction left her in awe.
"Who built this?" she asked, walking up the three part ramp.
"We don't know," Ciri replied, tickled at how impressed the emerald-eyed elf was. When they neared the inner ward, Iespeth asked what had caused the destruction of the archway. Ciri explained with hardship that it had happened in a battle. She pointed out the ballista which was used to collapse the structure as they navigated the pile. She made cleaning up the stones one of her goals this winter as the rubble reminded her too much of Vesemir.
They continued in silence until they stood directly in front of the keep. Ciri heard the slightly nasal sound of Keira laughing. She looked over and saw her, Lambert, Eskel and Maya sitting at a table in the small training area overlooked by the gauntlet, enjoying something to eat. Ciri walked over to them alone, smiling, while Iespeth stood staring and gaping at the keep.
"Oh look who's here everyone! And Lambert, you thought it would take her another week," Keira said lightly backhanding Lambert's shoulder. "Ciri, the weather was just so lovely that I insisted on an al fresco lunch. It's a shame all we have is rabbit stew," she said tipsily taking a sip from her wine glass.
"Well, it certainly smells delicious," Ciri replied, inhaling deeply.
None of them spoke for a short time, and the four at the table all looked at each other as if they were having some sort of silent argument. It wasn't until Maya, trying to hold back her wild mane of red hair which the wind was blowing into her face, gave Eskel a nudge with her elbow that the silence was broken.
"Ciri, I uh, I don't wanna ruin your homecoming, but...there's someone here to see you," he croaked out.
As Ciri pondered who might come to Kaer Mohren, she heard the soft distant tones of a flute -a flute played by one whose tunes she knew all too well. She pulled her face together in confusion and then a wave of anxiety washed over her. She hadn't seen him in three years. Since Tor Gvalch'ca.
"I'm surprised you didn't see him on the way in," Keira said.
"You'll find him on the north wall on the west side of the crumbled parapet fidgeting with some gadget," Lambert added, the flute music still audible.
"Don't be ridiculous Lambert, he isn't fidgeting. He is collecting and focusing light...though why he needs light that has been reflected off of snow is a secret that I sincerely would like to be privy to," the blond sorceress sweetly corrected.
"And how is that not fidgeting?" Lambert jokingly retorted. Keira gave him a snide, but loving smile. Lambert was often a bit on the tame side when around Keira.
"I guess I'll see what our dear elven sage wants," Ciri said.
She walked briskly over to Iespeth. "I have to go take care of something. Go introduce yourself, I'll be back in a bit," she said while passing by her quickly.
"May I come with you?"
"No. It's important that you do not come with me."
Before Iespeth could say anything, Ciri was walking away.
***
Ciri had told her to go to them. To introduce herself. But she couldn't. She stood in front of the two massive doors leading into the keep trying to make herself move towards the four sitting in the sun enjoying a meal, but her legs wouldn't budge. The emerald-eyed elf knew their names, a bit about them, but she did not know them. The imagination of talking to these strangers without Ciri was unpleasant. If only the thought of going over there causes this unpleasant feeling, then I should not go over there, she surmised. This must be fear. She would come to learn later that courage was the counteraction to fear. She turned to the heavy wooden doors and pushed one of them open, just enough to slip in.
Iespeth walked into what she first thought was the great hall until she looked further, seeing a much larger, grander room. She made her way into the massive space, nearly unable to breathe in awe of it all. Directly in front of her were tables, bookshelves filled with books, and various contraptions of sorts. She walked over to one table with blood stains, putting her hands directly on it to feel it and wondered what the creatures' physical form looked like. She moved over to a wall with an intricate mural of a man on horseback fighting what seemed to be a giant chicken. Iespeth pondered if such a creature truly existed. She followed the wall until coming upon a door atop a few steps. If her spatial reasoning was correct, this door might lead to the tower with the balconies she saw approaching Kaer Morhen.
She entered what was clearly a tower with a staircase running alongside the wall winding its way upwards. The first level had a balcony, confirming she was in the right tower. But she wanted to go to the top. She pushed open a pair of intricately carved doors leading into a large round room. On a writing table near the entrance was a map with various lines and circles drawn in fine charcoal on it. In the middle was a fireplace with a few dying embers from the previous night, emitting a unique smell not consistent with that of burning wood. The curious elf pondered the markings of the map and the cause of the unique scent. She pulled open the doors leading to the balcony, feeling the clean, crisp air on her face. Timid at first of the height, she slowly approached the railing, peeking out onto the courtyard where the four where still dining. She looked beyond the castle walls out into the valley, seeing the path they had taken to get there.
***
Ciri paused before walking up the stairs to the top of the wall. She assumed he already knew she was there, but was pretending to be unaware. A moment was needed before she could pull her heart out of her stomach and rein in her racing thoughts. She was afraid; afraid he was here for Iespeth, that he would take her away. The fear made her angry, pushing her into almost a charge up the stairs.
"You've become much more difficult to track. It seems my instruction did not fall on deaf ears. Luckily for me, your yearly pattern is rather predictable."
"What are you doing here?" Ciri demanded.
"Caed'mil, Zirael."
"I asked, what're you doing here?" she once again said sternly. He must have come for her.
"Focusing light. The positioning must be more precise than one-one-hundredth of the wavelength of the rays to be captured. The crystals and apparatus are hardly adequate, but it was all that could be found in this ruin. An exercise in futility," he scoffed shaking his head and looking up from the array of crystals placed at various points in a metal frame.
"I'm tired of your tenebrosity. What do you want, Avallac'h? Why are you here?" she insisted.
"Out of concern."
Ciri was tired of his half answers and ambiguity, but she steadied herself knowing that direct pressure never produced answers with this particular elven sage. It was something he considered a very human quality and thus didn't respond to well. She relaxed her face and said nothing. If he wants this conversation to continue then I will calmly and peacefully force him continue it.
"Concern for you, Zirael," he finally continued.
Avallac'h's title, Aen Saevherne--A Knowing One--was a title well bestowed on him. Today, however, he was not deserving of it. Had he disclosed why he had been drawn to Undvik, been drawn to the very sensation he incorrectly assumed only Ciri and her abilities could produce ,would he have been the wiser. They both would have been the wiser.
Omitting information --or at least presenting it vaguely and partially-- was a common practice amongst the elven elite. Between peers and equals, it was a course of action taken to save time by leaving out redundancies and assuming the other understood the intricacies of the discussion. With others, it was a way of accessing the player's intellect and mental dexterity. Although she was unaware of this fact, the prudent elf considered Ciri the former.
Ciri gave a sarcastic smile and held out her arms lazily as to demonstrate that she was fine.
"Take it as you will, yet I have come out of care for your well being."
She looked at him skeptically. Maybe he is not here for her. Maybe it is coincidence that he is here. Ciri wouldn't rule it out completely and resolved to be vague about her elven companion regardless of what he said. Feigning ignorance was sometimes the best tactic.
Avallac'h pursed his lips and tilted his face upwards.
"I might even go as far as to call you a friend."
"You might? Well that is very kind of you," Ciri said. If sardonicism was a scent, then hers was so strong one could have tasted it. "Forgive me for me being a bit skeptical. I trusted you for years because of the threat we faced. I trusted you with myself and my power because of self preservation. Partially mine, but mostly because of your own. You were a more than adequate mentor and we faced many immeasurable obstacles together. Yet now those threats no longer exist and I can't be sure if your goals coincide with mine. You're very clever, Avallac'h. Anyone who would deny that is a fool. But altruism just doesn't seem a part of your constitution. And now you just show up?"
He looked at her almost as if saddened by her words. If Avallac'h hadn't known her as well, he might have taken her little monologue as an offense. But he knew how she reacted when something was bothering her; short-tempered, explosive, and full of emotion.
"Does it surprise you so much that I might call you a friend?" Avallac'h looked for non-verbal cues in her face. "I have lost much in the many years that I have lived. Much of which I care about is gone and I can never reclaim it. Yet, I helped you prevent the annihilation of us all, including those for which I am not particularly fond of. If that does not fulfill your criteria of altruistic then, dear Ciri, please enlighten me. As far as my goals are concerned, I have veritably come to care for you. Generally, in circumstances where one cares for another, there is an aspect of wishing that person good health and prosperity. But I am merely a sage and cannot be sure if those goals coincide with your own," he said with a quaint smile. "If my presence here is too disturbing, however, I can leave. A portal shall open in four weeks in Aedd Gynvael."
Ciri changed her demeanor as soon as the tall elf used her real name. The times he had used it could have been counted on her fingers. Yet, it was moments like these that he was truly sincere and treated her as an equal, even if in his own peculiar way. Had Ciri asked him to leave, he would have obliged. He would have bided his time in the woods or in a cave and then made his way into the human city where the gateway was hidden. A soft bed in a castle with a somewhat equipped lab was, however, certainly more preferable.
"Avallac'h? I'm sorry. I'm just a bit...tired and irritable," Ciri convincingly lied, unintentionally putting hands on her belly while leaning against the parapet. At first she wasn't sure why she didn't want to tell him about Iespeth. After all, if anyone knew how to find out about her past it was this Aen Saevherne. She began to realize that she wasn't so sure she wanted to know. She didn't want to know if the she-elf had a bloody, brutal past or a perfectly normal one. This way though, she was just sweet, innocent Iespeth. Ignorance is truly bliss, she thought.
Avallac'h breathed in and exhaled quickly. "I forgot about those pesky short cycles you human women are troubled with. Perhaps I could brew you a concoction to ease your cramps?"
"What? Dammit Avallac'h. I'm not...it isn't..." Ciri trailed off angrily. She broke out into a smile and laughed through her nose. She decided to just change the subject. "So how are things in Tir ná Lia?"
"Different. Yet still the same. Change does not come quickly to a people for whom time has less meaning."
"So in what way is it different?"
"Ge'els is king."
"Oh? Ge'els, King of the Alders. Doesn't quite roll off the tongue."
"Perhaps you might try it in the Elder Speech, preferably using the Ellylon dialect," he suggested.
****
As Avallac'h climbed the extensive stone steps to the room he had staked out a week earlier as his quarters, he felt a significantly stronger draft than was normal for a mountain-top fortress the size of Kaer Mohren. Someone has opened the doors. Halfway up the long climb, a peculiar feeling crept into his consciousness. It wasn't due to magic nor was it something that was felt by any of his five primary senses, but it was curious nonetheless. He had had this feeling before, the circumstances of which buried in memories preferably forgotten. He consciously tried to ignore it. Such feelings can arise from minuscule shifts in the body and mind's normal processes often due to subtle variations in one's surroundings. Hardly something to take note of, he thought, brushing the feeling off as a statistical outlier.
When he reached the top of the steps, he noticed a hooded person standing on the balcony looking out over the mountains. After defeating the last step, he deduced, what with the shapely hips and narrow waist, that it was a woman. He hadn't expected to come across a stranger and hadn't the slightest notion as to who it could be even though he was a 'knowing' one.
She must have come with Zirael.
While sauntering over to the stranger, the sage scuffed his foot once purposefully, making a soft scrape against the stone floor so as to indirectly signal his presence. She slowly turned towards him lowering her cowl, the sun shining it's last intense rays of the day on her.
That face. I know that face. And those eyes.
His stomach and heart seemed to pull towards each other in a violent lurch. She looked at him, emerald eyes flashing. He gasped.
"Lara" he gasped out, his eyes developing a slight, watery glaze. As soon as he spoke that name he realized he had made an error. This she-elf had short waves the color of raw honey instead of long straight raven-colored hair. Where Lara had been tall, slender and regal, this stranger was short, a bit shapely and typical of a Seidhe. But her face and eyes were uncanny.
The woman looked at him unsure, "I'm sorry? My name is Iespeth."
Though it was a rarity for the sage, being such masters of their emotions, he was genuinely embarrassed. If elves, particularly of those belonging to a higher stratum, were known for keeping their emotions and motives private, then Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha was the model citizen. And he had just betrayed one of his most private and profound emotions in a manner unbecoming of a man of his stature. Deciding to give the allure of being composed, he chose to reply with the standard greeting of the Elder Speech.
"Caed'mil," he said, trying not to sound flustered.
"Um, I'm not familiar with that word," Iespeth replied nervously.
Perhaps it was a reaction overcompensating for his embarrassment, but Avallac'h slightly crinkled his nose and squinted his eyes in a disapproving manner. How could I have mistaken a common, uneducated Aen Seidhe for Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal. As slight as his subtle facial changes where, his mannerisms did not go unnoticed.
"It is the standard greeting in the Elder Speech. It hadn't occurred to me that one mightn't be familiar with the language," he said with a certain air in his tone.
Iespeth looked at her waist and fidgeted with the cinch, feeling the man's disapproving eyes on her. She wasn't sure who this stranger was and why he was here. It must have been because of him that Ciri so hurriedly left her in front of keep. Iespeth had the same feeling as when she thought of talking to the four, only this time it was much more intense. She wasn't sure what caused this reaction; the man, his behavior or just the situation. She made herself look back up at him and squeezed out an apprehensive smile.
"We are both elves," she said pointing at his head and then timidly grabbing her own ear. Given the hordes of humans she had encountered and the scarcity of their own kind, it seemed to her like a perfectly logical attempt to make a connection with this strange elf.
"Brilliant observation," he said sarcastically. "A slight difference, though, if I may add," his tone softening a bit. "You are of Aen Seidhe, whereas I am a native of the Aen Elle," he stated as if to brag.
She felt embarrassed and ashamed. She wanted to look away. But why? Iespeth reached for her cinch, but forced her hand back to her side, denying it its favorite habit.
"What is the difference?" she asked timidly.
He looked right back at the the emerald-eyed she-elf with an amused smirk. Avallac'h found it odd that she had no understanding of even the most basic elvish words and was unaware of at least the concept of the Aen Elle. He would need more information. The elven sage whispered something inaudible into his hand, held it up and with a flick of his wrist, pulled a white flower out of the air.
"Are you familiar with the story of Aelirenn, the White Rose of Shaerrawedd?" he asked, examining the silver drops on the petals.
Iespeth wanted to neither lie nor admit her lack of knowledge, so she said nothing. She knew this man was watching, analyzing, which meant every reaction--or lack thereof--was noted. She tried to hide the shame of her own ignorance, but similar to herself, Avallac'h skills of observation were impeccable, catching the split second that her eyes threatened to look down in abashment.
Curious. A young elf who is unaware of Aelirenn; the call to war that most young Seidhe use to draw more to their ill-thought-out cause. Why? Who is she?
"Then allow me to educate you on a small portion of your history. When the humans arrived here on the Continent many years ago, the Tribe of the Hills--the Seidhe--slowly retreated further towards the mountains, the eldest of them believing humans were but a passing plague that would eventually wipe themselves out. 'A species that thoroughly rapes their environment,' referring to the humans' practice of farming, 'is like a parasite that kills its own host' being their general chain of logic. What a preposterous notion!" he said giving a mild snort.
Avallac'h began to grimace. "Entire palaces including their greatest treasures were abandoned. Of course, the opportunistic humans found these empty structures of sophisticated architecture practically welcoming them in. It was there, of course, that they nucleated, reproducing like rabbits turning these palaces into large metropoles. Upon learning this, the Seidhe elders decided to raze any subsequently abandoned structure lest it become inhabited by the quickly breeding intruders. Among them was their crowned jewel, Shaerrawedd. And it was decimated, needlessly and utterly destroyed by its own creators." Avallac'h paused for a moment fingering one of the thorns of the rose. "Then arose a young warrior enraged by the loss of one of their many great wonders. Aelirenn, she was called. She incited the youth to go against the wishes of the elders and went to battle against the innumerable dh'oine. They fought proudly and stupidly and they died. The foolish elders and their foolish youth. Two hundred years ago much of the future of the Seidhe had been destroyed in a single battle." Avallac'h pressed his thumb gradually harder against the thorn until a small drop of blood emerged from his finger. "The blood of the elves," he said, simultaneously sounding vexed and sorrowed.
Iespeth, though finding it unfortunate, was hardly saddened by the fate of a people she didn't know, but as a calculated measure forced out a melancholy expression to match that of the man standing before her. Calling them her people was something that she would have to adopt.
"And the Aen Elle?" she questioned, "what of them?"
"We had a different fate. But that is irrelevant now," he said handing her the rose. She took it skeptically, careful not to touch his skin although she desperately wanted to. But it was too dangerous. He was a mage and a stranger who might not be deserving of trust. And as it turned out, he did not trusted her either, but for entirely different reasons.
"A natural rose would of course wilt and die within a matter of days. But this is an illusion of my own creation. It won't degrade so quickly," he said with a hint of snark. "Keep it. It's a gift," he said smiling with a flash of his teeth. The mage then gestured towards the exit. "Now if you please, I have some tasks that need tending to."
Iespeth went back into the keep, finding Ciri with the red-headed healer.
"There you are; we've been looking all over for you! Where have you been?" Ciri asked. She noticed her friend seemed a bit shaken.
"I wanted to see the valley from the balcony. Then a strange man came. An elf. He didn't say his name."
"His name is Avallac'h. What did he want?" Ciri asked suspiciously.
"Nothing. He gave me this. Said it was a gift and that I should keep it," she said holding up the white rose. "Then he said he had work to do, so I left."
"Did he? You didn't tell him about what happened, did you? About how we found you?" Ciri demanded to know, the worry in her voice noticeable.
"Of course not, Ciri. Everything may be new to me, but I'm not daft," Iespeth replied. Why would she be so worried about that man knowing? She didn't know their history, but Ciri's reactions confirmed that her mistrust of the man was not unfounded.
Ciri was relieved and also tickled by the she-elf's saucy answer. "Good. I've already told the others to be careful what they say around him."
"You'll hardly need to be concerned. He mostly just stays in his room. He doesn't eat much. Occasionally he comes out and uses the lab or gets a jug of water, but in the week that he has been here, he has barely talked to us to any of us," Maya interjected. This eased Iespeth greatly, as the elven mage made her uneasy.
"Good to know. Iespeth, this is Maya. She is going to help you with your hand while the others and I get a few things done and then prepare for supper. You'll be fine without me for a bit, won't you?"
It had occurred to Ciri that asking Iespeth to go alone to speak to three strangers and Lambert might have been asking too much. Iespeth looked at the red-headed elf wearing a simple dark green frock. She had such a pleasant and kind look about her. This elf was much shorter than Iespeth, significantly more curvy and had much paler skin. Iespeth likened the pigmentation of the woman to putting a freshly cut aspen branch on the fire, which she had frequently done on her journey here. She smelled of, what Iespeth would later come to know, various crushed herbs and burnt sage. The way Ciri had spoken about her and the sweetness in her face gave Iespeth a nice feeling. 'A healer is someone who fixes wounds and helps you feel better,' Ciri had told her. She felt she could trust this woman. After all, she is an elf like me. Likely a Seidhe, whatever that means. I could and should learn more about what being an elf is. She gave Ciri an enthusiastic nod, assuring her that she was comfortable with this stranger.
Iespeth followed the woman to the area with tables and contraptions. She watched as Maya gathered a few bottles with varying colored substances, white gauze, a pail with water, and some sort of small stone bowl with a stone that was longer than it was wide.
"What is that?" Iespeth asked.
"That? That's a mortar and pestle. You use it to grind herbs or seeds. Makes it easier to extract the chemicals in them," Maya explained, while demonstrating how the pestle could be rotated in the mortar.
"You must know a lot. And you're an elf. Like me." Iespeth attempted once more to find some common ground, to find some connection to this person based on their shared race. She knew that it was vital that she blend in which meant figuring out how to behave in this world as an elf. Perhaps this time it might go better than with the elven man whose unpleasantness she had experienced a few minutes prior.
Maya gave her a peculiar smile. A smile whose meaning Iespeth would soon come to understand.
"Yes. I'm an elf. Now sit down and let me have a look at that hand," she said sweetly, rolling up her sleeves.
Maya pulled up a chair across from Iespeth and held out her two small hands after taking a seat. Iespeth understood. She offered her injured hand to the healer, feeling comfort knowing that her wound was in the care of an expert. The blond elf gave out a sharp gasp as soon as she made skin contact with the healer. Maya was shocked when Iespeth then aggressively grabbed her bare arm with her right hand pulling her closer. Iespeth began intensely examining the red-headed 'elf' with her eyes. She is not an elf. Similar to the blood on the table. I must tell Ciri. Why would this person claim she is an elf?
"What are you doing?" Maya asked, giving her a befuddled look.
"I..." Use your lack of understanding as an excuse. What you can do may not be normal here. "I misunderstood. I've never been in this situation before. With a healer. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to behave. How it was supposed to play out. I'm sorry." Iespeth let go of the red head's arm.
"It's quite alright. Lambert said you might behave a bit unorthodox," Maya sympathetically replied. Whatever she was, she seemed harmless and Iespeth still liked her. She would have to ask for Ciri's opinion later, though.
"What is unorthodox?"
"It means not normal."
Iespeth found that the use of the word ironic considering the situation. "I'd like to know what normal is. Ciri says we are to stay the winter here. I hope to learn."
Normal. Ha! She'll learn how to fight, to hunt, to brew healing concoctions and other substances. But learn to be normal? From a handful of abnormals? thought the red-headed healer.
Maya was at least pleased to hear that she wished to learn.
"Well, we'll do our best to teach you."
The red-headed healer examined her hand, determining that risk of infection was no longer a threat. She prepared an elaborate balm--showing and explaining every step--which would minimize the buildup of scar tissue and gave Iespeth a few exercises to do to keep the functionality of her fingers intact. Her emerald eyes where so concentrated on Maya's words and actions that she didn't realized that it had become dark out until they were interrupted by the witcher called Eskel.
"Sorry to interrupt, but it's time to eat," he said, moving over to the red-head and putting his hand around her waist. Maya grinned as if her facial expression was no longer under her control. It was then that Iespeth noticed two small gaps in her teeth.
"Iespeth, why don't you head on over. They'll be sitting near the big fire. You can't miss it," Maya instructed.
As Iespeth walked away, she noticed the two fumble into an embrace. She observed how Eskel groped the short woman's ass and the subtle way in which Maya responded pressing her pelvis against the man's leg. She wasn't sure why, but the two seemed to feel it important to keep mouth-to-mouth contact for a short period of time.
The elf made her way in the direction of the large fire place staring at the couple until she abruptly bumped into a sturdy figure.
"It's not polite to stare at such things...well, unless you have a good hiding spot," Lambert said, smirking.
"Lambert, you are such a bad influence! How on earth shall I punish you?" Keira the sorceress said.
Iespeth didn't understand. The feeling crept back into her stomach again making her want to flee. She calmed down once she spotted Ciri at the fire and went to her side. The greens, mushrooms and bacon the witcheress was stirring in a cast iron skillet smelled delicious. Her mouth began to water so much that she nearly drooled on her vest before wiping the spit off her chin with the back of her hand.
Iespeth learned by observation that each person served themselves, unlike how she and Ciri were served at Triss Merrigold's school. She found it intriguing watching the dynamic between the five. Keira constantly gave Lambert affectionate jibes which he returned in kind. With the others he presented his jokes in a much more crude and confrontational manner, but was often retorted at with a witty response or insult from either Ciri or Eskel. Eskel and the healer seemed to find it difficult to not touch each other. She wondered why the sorceress and Lambert didn't behave that way. Ciri talked about her past year on the 'Path', while the two witchers listened and gave her tips and critique. In the meantime, Maya and Keira discussed potions and poultices. This went on for hours. Iespeth watched, listened and learned.
***
The night was clear and calm with only the occasional howls of a wolf. Not a single cloud was to be seen which allowed the stars' sparkle to be seen at their best. Avallac'h had left the windows open, allowing the cool mountain air to permeate the room. He tinkered with a crystal about the size of his fist at a table in the solitude of his quarters. The spell that he was attempting would not alone suffice to put adequate runes into the stone. Although perhaps one of the most accomplished and knowledgeable mages, he hadn't the expertise to put small markings into the jewel's surface with a just a spell. He would either need a rune master--of which the only ones he knew were on the world of the Aen Elle--or he would have to try combining the spell with a strong etchant. But made of what?
He contemplated going downstairs and rummaging through the shelves to see what the witchers kept in store. Time was rarely an issue for him, but he did wish to finish his experiment before returning home. Considering how secretive the witchers tended to be, he deduced that looking through their chemicals without permission might be considered an affront. The sage wished to keep things pleasant for Ciri and knew the two witchers cared naught for him. Besides, he hadn't the patience to listen to any of their crude jokes and banal conversations that they were certainly having in the great hall.
He thought about attempting the spell once more, but found himself lacking the motivation. He sat there for a few minutes, his eyes losing focus on the crystal. To pull himself out of his daze he turned his eyes away from his project, coincidentally looking upon the balcony. It was the exact spot where he had first seen the honey-blonde Seidhe whose face looked uncannily identical to Lara Dorren--the woman who he had loved more than anything. He decided not to occupy himself with thoughts of sadness and focused on the pleasant times he had had with her. He remembered a time when she had come to his lab under the pretense of helping him with an experiment. But she had come for something else. Avallac'h closed his eyes.
She walked up to me pressing her breasts against my chest. I was holding an alembic. Those eyes. Those big precious emerald eyes looking at me. I reached up and caressed the revealed skin where her neck bone ran along her shoulder.
He began to feel a stirring below his belt and started contracting his muscles, pumping more blood into his member. The pressure his trousers applied to his growing erection spurred him on.
Asking, demanding with her eyes. I obeyed. I put the alembic down as she rubbed herself against my front, careful to press against my cock frequently, but ever so briefly.
The sage took off his bracers and fingerless gloves. He began to press an open palm against his belly where the tip of his penis was trying to escape the seam of his trousers.
Looking up at the ceiling while she began to take off my clothes. She preferred not to use spells to remove them. Her fingers; so determined, so earnest.
Avallac'h undid his belt, followed by his sash. Once those were gone, he unwrapped his asymmetrical tunic and tossed it on the floor. One by one, he undid the buttons of his shirt until his chest was exposed. Although he was becoming desperate for relief, he was aware of the benefits of patience, particularly when it came to sexual gratification.
Gently tracing the designs on my bare chest with consequence until I pulled her closer to my body.
He put his right hand on the protrusion on his stomach, increasing the pressure, and rubbed his bare chest with his left hand.
Looked down at her small stature and saw her gazing up at me. I tucked one of her honey colored curls behind her perfect pointed ear.
Avallac'h stopped moving his hands and opened his aquamarine eyes. He closed them again trying get the image of Lara Dorren back. He willed himself to replace the honey blonde curls with straight black tresses, but it was in vain. Every time he closed his eyes the intense emerald eyes were staring back at him surrounded by curled, honeyed locks. The image of this woman was relentless and demanded he continue.
The woman gave him a mischievous half-smile and amply undid the the bow holding the lacings of his trousers snugly closed. With a smooth tug, she had them half way down his thighs. She stood back and began to undo her vest. She wanted to reward him for his obedient behavior with something beautiful to look at. When her small tits escaped the confines of their prison, he reached out to touch one but she wouldn't let him. Her erect, dark areolas and pink nipples beckoned to be softly pinched. No matter how much they taunted him, she denied him the pleasure. She grabbed a pillow from a stool, tossing it on the floor, and knelt down in front of him.
Avallac'h undid his britches and shoved them down to his knees. His breathing had become significantly deeper.
Her warm breath could be felt warning the bulging head of his manhood of the pleasure that was soon to come. She put the tip to her lips and pushed back his foreskin with the length of her tongue.
He quickly fondled the head of his member with his thumb and first two fingers.
She grasped the base of his shaft firmly and looked up, daring him to attempt escape. Then she enveloped him with her mouth. She alternated between applying pressure to the roof of her mouth with intense sucking and teasing him by massaging the underside just below the head with a powerful tongue. She kept moving faster, tempting him to come.
He moved his hand faster and faster, the pressure and need for release rising exponentially. The experienced sage didn't remember self pleasure having been so good. He wanted to delay his gratification so he could continue the rest of the memory even if it was with an impostor. She wouldn't let him though. His eyes shot open as the release was overwhelming causing him to make a succinct grunt. She was gone. He pointed his cock up towards his sternum when he came allowing the warm fluid to splatter across his inked belly.
Once he regained control of his breathing, he reached for a small rag on the corner of the table. He cleaned his seed off his stomach in one precise wipe. After kicking his pants off, he walked out onto the balcony, his shirt still open and hanging from his shoulders. His runic tattoos seemed to glow under the moonlight. The cool night air soothed his flushed skin and the mild breeze relieved his exhausted parts. He stood there enjoying the sensation, feeling more relaxed than he had been in a while.
Although he intended to continue working as he was wont to do, he lay down on his bed after closing the balcony doors. He'd meant to think about which substances he would try out for his etchant, but sleep overtook him, forcing his eyes shut.
***
"Eskel and Maya will just end up looking at her like a young woman needing protecting. Ciri already sees her as a sister. You saw that at dinner, didn't you? Besides, our dear Cirilla has had such a nasty life, she will do everything her power to protect that elf from the evils of the world, even if it ends up being detrimental in the long run. She won't be able to look at the larger picture. That is precisely why you need to be the one mostly responsible for her training," Keira said, taking off her pearl earrings. The room was lit by a multitude of candles, yet considering the room's size, it remained rather dim.
The sorceress sat at a mahogany vanity with a large, oval mirror enveloped by intricate carvings of water nymphs being engulfed by the sea. Her blue and red dress was hung neatly over the back of her chair. Lambert was lying on the bed naked, his cock draped lazily over his relaxed balls. He liked watching his mistress of magic go through her evening rituals preparing for bed. The witcher observed the shadows dancing across the her bare breasts in the reflection of the mirror as she applied a salve to her lips. He knew she was expecting him to be attentive when she was discussing matters she felt important, but she made it difficult as she began rubbing one of her many lotions onto her thighs. He was often convinced she was testing his skills of concentration whenever she stretched her leg out and up towards her face, pointing her toes in the air to reach the back of her knee as she was doing now.
He needed to say something.
"I just...I actually kind of feel bad for her. She knows fuck all and seems so innocent and sweet. I don't know if I can treat her like a young witcher in training...like how I was treated," Lambert said fiddling with the corner of a fluffy pillow.
Lambert often had difficulty being honest about matters of a more tender nature. With anyone but her, he would have made a indecent or crass joke. But she wasn't just anyone. He could be honest about his cynical viewpoint on the world without judgment. And he could be honest about the rare times he felt sentimental. It was what he loved about her. Besides, she could and sometimes did just read his thoughts with telepathic spell.
"And I thought you didn't like her? I'm surprised at this coming from you. You men certainly do tend to get rather weak in the balls when confronted with big eyes, a pretty face and a pair of well formed breasts. I know by experience," she said referring to herself and him. "She is a woman, Lambert. Don't underestimate how far we can be pushed without breaking," she said, turning around to face him. "In the long run, it is for the better. Life is hard and a woman, particularly one like that, needs armor because this world will not be kind," she continued, looking back at the window. She immediately began brushing her hair.
She saw in the mirror's reflection of his face that he was unsure. She listened, just for a moment. What do you mean? What do you mean 'one like that'? She gave a sigh thinking what she meant had been obvious.
"The elves are not doing so well on the Continent. That's not really a mystery. Every single one found in Redania is unfairly and swiftly tried and executed. The few in Kovir and Pontis are kept in refugee camps, often turning to crime to survive. And Dol Blathanna has a neighbor to the north that is hell bent on exterminating them. They were once protected by Nilfgaard to the south, but now they either won't or can't support them, despite them officially having an alliance. I've never been on great terms with Francesca Findabair, but the few times I have seen her recently she seems...burdened. It's subtle really, only things that a sorceress might notice. But it is there. That is why you must prepare her in the best way you can."
Lambert understood her point and nodded in agreement.
"But enough about that. On to more pleasant things," Keira said, in a much more positive tone putting down her brush.
The blond sorceress stood up, allowing Lambert to look at her exquisite figure. She wore only a pair of white charmeuse underwear held on her hips by a thin silk cord fastened into a bow just below her belly button. Lambert wondered if he would remove them with his mouth or his hands. As she sauntered provocatively over to the bed, Lambert's cock perked up in curious anticipation.
She crawled on top of him and gave him a kiss, griding her hips against his firm erection which was only prevented from entering her by a thin piece of material. His seductress sat up, giving him a sly smile and then extinguished all the candles with a wave of her hand, darkening the chamber with a quick, simple spell. The only light was that coming from the hearth in the center of the room, creating a puppet show of their love making.
***
"Ciri?"
"Yeah?"
"There is something strange about Maya," Iespeth said unpacking her few belongings and arranging them carefully in the small trunk at the foot of her bed. Among them were the sponge that Triss Merrigold had given her and the white rose from Avallac'h.
The only beds that were available were the small cots located close to the gigantic fire place. They might not have been the most luxurious, but being so near the massive source of warmth would make up for that in the winter.
"Hmm. What makes you say that?" Ciri turned away under the pretense of smoothing the blankets on her bed. Since when did Ciri care about her sheets being orderly? It was such minor details that the she-elf often seemed to perceive.
"There was just something...not elfish about her." Iespeth couldn't tell Ciri how she was aware of Maya's 'differences' so she had vaguely, yet truthfully, chosen her words. "But you know what she is, don't you? You know much."
"Typical elf. They seem to even notice when a mosquito shits," Ciri teased. She gave a resigned sigh. "She is what is called a 'higher vampire'."
"And they look like elves?"
"And humans."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"It wasn't my secret to tell. It's for her to decide who she trusts enough to share her identity with. Everybody has parts of themselves that they prefer not to share and everyone has a right to keep those parts private." Ciri's words seemed to comfort her strange elven friend.
"Could she be dangerous to us?" Iespeth asked.
"I don't want to lie to you. Higher vampires can be very dangerous. But then again, so can a witcher or a mage or an elf. Even I can be dangerous. And yet we still are all under one roof sharing bread, telling our stories, and laughing together. Capacity for danger doesn't suffice to condemn someone. Only their actions do."
Iespeth looked at Ciri, contemplating her words. She gave a nod, demonstrating that she understood and accepted Ciri's reasoning.
Both women lay down on their small beds and pulled the blankets over themselves.
"Why did you decide to tell me then what she is?"
"I didn't want you to fear her. Do you fear her?"
"No," Iespeth said matter of factly. "I like her. She is kind. She offered to teach me 'reading and writing'. Did you know that you can communicate with another person just by making symbols? Can you do that?"
Ciri chuckled. "Yes, I did know that and I can read and write."
Iespeth was quiet for a while, but just as Ciri was about to dose off,
"Ciri?"
"Hmm?"
"I trust you. You are, in a way, a part of me."
Ciri didn't really know what she meant and didn't really care so she just replied with "That's nice, Iespeth," and then fell into a deep slumber.