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[PR: Ash]

In an ancient, resplendent tomb, a pair of clean marble coffins sat in the center. The bottoms of the coffins rattled against the ground, filling the air with thunderous roars. Mana flowed from the cracks between the coffins like streams of water. The streams of mana turned into whirlpools, slicing the space around them like it was a mirror. Wrinkles crossed in the air.

And then, dark winds blew from the inky passage in the east, brushing across the sconces hanging on the walls. The winds howled, and the flames flickered. Engravings of oak, vines, and leaves on the walls swayed. These patterns were gorgeous and felt bizarre to the touch, as if they were living plants that might jump out any time. They even had the smell of living plants, but alas, the erosion of time had taken away part of these engravings. Cobwebs, cracks, and mice burrows split the walls up into countless pieces.

On the wall on the other side, four silhouettes were projected on it. The one on the right was gaunt and had arms that extended further than its knees. It was holding the backpack strap on its chest with both hands. The creature was pale, and it had a big hook nose, sunken eyes, and a pair of thin lips. It looked like a miserly taxman.

On its left was someone in a black leather shirt. Its arms were crossed, and its back was straight. It had sharp, regal, yet dark features. The creature held its head high, observing the stone coffins. The air around it was tinged with a hint of arrogance. Its shadow was like a gigantic bat trapped in a cage, struggling and growling greedily, waiting to break free.

The remaining pair stood closely together. One was in a bold, dark-red, low-cut, frilly short skirt. It was wearing a pair of smooth, black lace gloves. Its hands were on its hips, its curves astonishingly sultry. The creature had red, lustrous lips and a slightly aquiline nose. Its eyes were slanted, its corners going up.

The other one was in a long, sleeveless gown. Its hands were clasped before its lower belly, and it stood like a dignified lady. The gemstone embedded on the necklace hanging before the creature’s chest was big enough to gain the envy of any sorceress. She had a gentle face and an elegant but mysterious air. Not even princesses or queens could stand up to her. The flames flickered, their light shining on her slender fingers. On all ten of her fingertips were cross-shaped scars. Crimson blood pumped within them.

The creature in black turned to the elegant lady. When he spoke, his growling voice echoed in the chamber. Imperiously, he said, “Once midnight passes, one month will have fully elapsed. The metamorphosis shall be complete. For the following year, you shall be teaching her the rules and common sense of the new world. Do not let her succumb to her instincts. She will be nothing but an uncontrollable madwoman like the people from the other factions. Do not ask her to abstain either. Before she has a taste of all the wonderful things this world has to offer, she will be unable to endure the loneliness that comes after.”

The elegant woman knelt and bowed her head. The taxman turned to the coffin on the left. Weak and frustrated, he interrupted, “What about this new member? We have followed the clan’s rules and spent so much blood on him. We have even gone so far as to give him a precious slot. We should keep him in the clan.”

“You shouldn’t have drunk too much. Have you forgotten? A few years ago, an underling belonging to the elder in Vicovaro perished in the North and left nothing behind. Before his demise, he told the elder that he was burned by silver. The elder concluded that the killer must have been a witcher, and now it’s time for them to pay the price. If you’re unwilling to do that and keep him around…” The arrogant man turned to the other coffin and said, “you’ll be tossing a little lamb into a pride of lions.”

The taxman fell silent, then he nodded submissively. The woman in red dress held his arm in consolation.

“When the cusp of his maturation comes in a month, I shall lead him to the South and request an audience with that person. There, he shall meet his fate.” The creature suddenly turned around, its eyes turning into inky abysses, staring at the one looking at him through the void.

Everything around Dawo spun. He grunted and woke with a jolt. When he opened his eyes once more, the ancient tomb was no more. He was in a warm bedchamber with its air filled with calming incense smoke. He was holding the jasmine hair clip, and he held himself up on the couch, looking around.

The gorgeous Corrine put her half-finished sweater into a steel box, and she smiled at Dawo.

The old man felt a gust of wind tearing at his face as Aiden huddled closer. Quickly, he held the chief’s spindly hands, his eyes filled with anticipation.

“I didn’t let you down, witchers. I saw Erin and the person you’re looking for. They’re both in coffins. Godefroy and three bizarre people were standing around, talking. They talked about…”

Woda started off excited, but then he trailed off. The looks of the four and everything they said were starting to get foggy. The eyes with black flames coming out of them wiped away all of Dawo’s memories about them. One moment had passed, and all Dawo could remember was the ancient tomb and the pair of coffins.

“Coffins? That’s for dead people.” Aiden went white, and the light in his eyes dimmed. “So Gaetan didn’t make it?”

Coral and Roy came ahead, patting his shoulder. “Things are still uncertain. It’s too early to draw any conclusions.” There’s no reason for higher vampires to take two dead people away. He turned to the dazed Dawo. “What’s important is their location. Do you see it?”

Dawo massaged his temples. Quietly, he said, “It’s an ancient tomb. Marble coffins. Engravings of leaves and vines…” Dawo’s eyes shone, and he shouted in excitement, “I know! It’s not the plains! It’s Fen Carn! The ancient elven gravesite further in the northwest!”

“What are we waiting for, then? Lytta, open up a portal. We’re searching for them.” Aiden swung his fists.

“Mate, before we do that, I have to tell you something.” Roy turned a lot more solemn than he ever was. “My blood was roaring in my veins just now. It gave me a strong warning and vision of the future. The people in Fen Carn aren’t just your regular barber and townsfolk. They’re deadly.”

Aiden felt a foreboding feeling coming.

“At least one of them is a higher vampire. Perhaps all of them are, so prepare for battle.” Roy then remembered how Regis eventually turned to the side of good. “Of course, if possible, we deal with this peacefully.”

***

Three hours ago, a dragon of flames roared through the darkness of the birch woods.

A burly knight with a longsword and silver armor with a white rose engraved on it turned around to his soldiers. More than a hundred of them, and all were bearing torches. Displeased, he said, “Lambert, Triss, perhaps we should be switching places now. We spent the whole afternoon scouring these woods. Aside from the vials, we didn’t see any assassins. I suspect the assassin was leading us with a false trail, so I suggest we move forward.”

“You have a point, Rorin. The knights have worked hard. We’ll tell His Majesty about this when we return.” Lambert forced a smile and glanced at the red-haired sorceress beside him. She was nursing her lips, shaking her head subtly. Roy hadn’t returned with news.

Lambert took a deep breath. He had set up a whole trail and managed to keep Foltest’s soldiers occupied for hours. This was the last thing he could do for his part of the mission. “Rorin, do you see that? What’s that?” Lambert strode to the west of the woods’ exit sign. He bent over and dug out a Cat medallion. Delighted, he showed it to the soldiers around.

The exhausted soldiers were reinvigorated.

Lambert shouted, “The assassin went northwest!” Roy and the guys went to Kent in the east. I can’t let these soldiers get in their way. “Come with me, knights! We’ll capture the assassin and claim our reward from the king!”

The dragon of flames marched deeper into the darkness of the night.