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[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.

The sorceress daintily extended her fingertip and brushed his hand. At the same time, a hook-nosed, brooding witcher and the kids they were training set their sights on the sorceress.

“Where’s Geralt?” Yennefer was still tense. She noticed the griffin called Gryphon making its landing, then the beast charged toward the training square beside the willow tree. The kids happily jumped at the beast, hugging and nuzzling it.

Gryphon looked more like a pet than an apex predator now. It growled a little as it carried the children on its back, resignedly running around the wooden stakes.

Yennefer’s lips twitched, but she held her magic back. She’d never seen any griffins this agreeable before. For a moment, she thought this was another beast in disguise.

“Geralt does not know of your arrival. He and the kids are out on a job.”

“A job?”

“The kids have passed their Trial, so now they’re learning how to fend for themselves.”

“Pardon me for asking, but…” Yennefer went into the conference room in the western building with Auckes. A bald, intimidating witcher and a man with a grotesque scar on his face nodded at her on the way. More witchers. “What is this place? You have a big group of kids and a team of witchers running around. Not just Wolves either. I think I saw Vipers?” Yennefer noticed the viper pendant hanging around Auckes’ neck. She couldn’t understand how witchers from different schools could get together. This was unheard of.

“Oh, did Geralt not explain this to you? Ah well, a letter alone isn’t enough to paint the whole picture. The story of this establishment isn’t exactly a simple one that can be told over the course of a single letter.” Auckes shook his head. “Think of it as a luxury orphanage. Kids who lost their parents and home can learn a trade and pick up the skill of reading and writing. The witchers are teachers here.”

“The kids training under the tree look different from everyone else. They seem a bit too… healthy.”

“Ah, good eye, lady.” Auckes said honestly, “They’ve taken a dosage of potion that enhances their bodily functions. Our secret formula, so to speak, but they aren’t quite at the stage where they can undergo proper mutations.”

“Witchers don’t strike me as the charitable kind, so why are you doing this?” Yennefer looked into Auckes’ eyes, pursing her lips. “I think you’re building a secret academy just to raise new witchers.”

“Ah, I take it you haven’t noticed? The children in the classroom have not undergone any mutation or modification.” Auckes pulled on the string of his cloak. “We respect the children’s choice, and we would never force them to go through the Trial. Only a fraction of them would choose this path. You do not have to worry.”

Yennefer shook her head, but she held back her curiosity. “So which one among them is Ciri?” asked Yennever, a hint of nervousness lacing her voice.

“She’s in the classroom, learning. I’ll take you to her.”

***

Ciri was in a light blue blouse, her hair tied up in a ponytail. There was a smile on her lips, and she rested her chin in her hand. She looked at Kiyan and the children around her, who were listening to the teacher intently.

It had been a month since she left Goldencheeks’ house and joined the House of Gawain, but she’d fallen in love with this place. She had dozens of friends to play and learn with, and she was fed hearty meals every day. When she had time, she could play around with Ebony and Gryphon too. Or she would train with the boys.

This was her dream life. Still, she wondered when she could go to Skellige to see Calanthe. Ciri pursed her lips and turned to the left. She saw an unfamiliar but beautiful sorceress standing outside. She was petite, and her head was held high, giving her an arrogant look.

There were a dozen kids in the classroom, but Yennefer set her sights on the girl with gray hair. She knew who Ciri was right away, as if they had a bond between them. An invisible but powerful bond. At the same time, she was filled with the desire to approach and protect the child.

***

By recess, Ciri was summoned to the conference hall alone. The girl blinked at the sorceress curiously, asking, “Who is she, Auckes?”

Auckes looked out the window, where the children were playing with Ebony and the roosters. “Geralt told you about her. Yennefer of Vengerberg. She’s here to help you.”

“I see…” Ciri drew out that sentence, her eyes sparkling mischievously. Yennefer blushed, like the child had seen through her embarrassing past. “Geralt told me…” The girl darted toward Yennefer and held her hand. Clumsily, she lied, “Geralt told me he’s been missing you. He won’t stop thinking about you all day. He calls out your name when he sleeps at night.

Yennefer burst into laughter, breaking her cool, aloof fa?ade, and she gently hit the girl’s head.

Ciri held her head and blinked at the sorceress innocently.

“You sure know how to talk, but you can’t lie to me. Dandelion can teach Geralt all the tricks he knows, but he still wouldn’t be able to make Geralt say anything like that.”

Ciri’s lie was seen through, so she kept quiet.

Yennefer turned to Auckes. “So what plans do you have for her? She’s … in a delicate position, so she now goes by the alias of Falka.” The sorceress sized the girl up. Ciri saw flickering flames, howling gales, rumbling earth, and roaring rivers in her eyes. She was a little scared of her gaze.

“And that’s why we invited you. We need your input on this matter.” Auckes patted the package on his jacket. “The brotherhood’s sorcerers have too many projects on their hands to deal with this matter. They do not have any time to teach her, so we turn to you.”

“You have other sorcerers here?”

“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.”