Novigrad (Part 5)

"Naevis, there are many things I don't understand about you. And more so, I can't figure out why you trust me. So let's keep it as straightforward as possible. We don't owe each other. Act of saving you is just a coincidence. But I robbed your figurine from the dead bodies of the mercenaries in Rinde. They tried to kill me and I want to know why." - Alan walked to the farthest table at the corner of the hall. It was small for two and easily overlooked due to the lack of proper lighting.

Lingering darkness eased the tension of his mind. It gave him a false sense of security. A naive thought, but comfort is a thing of subconsciousness. At times, people prefer falsehood to truth.

Naevis ran her hand through a waterfall of straight locks that shone with golden luster and tilted the head, placing her chin on the palm.

"It all started before Fall of Cintra. Back then I was very young and naive, just finished studying magic and ready to graduate. I met a man. Polite, handsome and strong, very strong. He impressed me from the first moments and later I followed him." - she ordered some wine, but after fist sip frowned at the glass and with an arrogant elegance of the sorceress poured it on the floor.

Alan offered his own.

"Impressive wine! Subtle in aroma on the outside, reach tones on the inside and mild aftertaste that changes through time, letting one experience all seasons of the year."

"My unique collection. You seem to know wine."

"Naturally. I'm a sorceress. Wine is one of many topics I know of." - she smiled at Alan. - "What is it? You look strange. Ah, sorry, your wine was undrinkable, but I have mine now. Please bring me cheese, but the one with a mild taste."

"No, I just thought you should relax more. Your unreserved smile is very attractive." - Alan poured apple juice for himself under the sapphire eyes full of a complexity of emotions.

"You are doing it again. Every single time we met you are doing it." - she said and took another sip. Alan looked at her silently. - "Playing with my emotions. Influencing me. Almost controlling."

"Do you dislike it?"

Naevis stared at him for some time and then looked to the side where the scene and the noisy crowd were.

"I can't afford it." - finally, she answered. Alan didn't press the issue.

"Was the man you were talking about Vilgefortz?"

"Yes. He is the one. But I know little about him. He always kept a distance from others, only closing in when he needed something. His indifference and coldness were apparent, just like his talents and power. For some time I admired him... but later I joined Scoia'taels. I joined them because of the cause. I'm tired to see my people gradually dying. I hate that we became nomads without a home."

Alan again kept silent.

He didn't ask what use would it be to join Scoia'taels for rebuilding their home, because he knew what Emhyr Var Emreis offered as a bargaining chip for elves to fight with total disregard of lives and morals.

He offered them hope. Hope at the price of rivers of blood. Hope that was tainted and not for all, but a selected few. But still hope. He played them well and the saddest part – the ones who fought for it would never fulfill their dream. They bled, died, and struggled, became nomads and terrorists for the world that will never greet them.

It was a splendid dead-end. A cruel ending. A price.

A river of blood and nightmares.

And she realized it. It was clear as day Naevis understood what will happen to her if she didn't change her path. And knew the risks if she did. She took the gamble and got a short end of a stick, albeit, for now, it remained intact.

"I sowed chaos in northern lands. I killed. Many. I'm not a good woman, Alan. I even killed unarmed and harmless. Perhaps even innocents. It was all like a dream, like a fanatical idea to find a way home through any means necessary. The cause blinded me and I lacked the alternative. I regret it now. I don't want to live like that anymore, but too weak to live otherwise." - she hid the face in her arms.

There were no tears, not even a sigh. After many killings she committed her tears and grief would only make it easier to forgive herself. And she had no right to do so. Not until her pride as a sorceress would admit the right through actions, not useless inner self-reflect.

"It was you who opened my eyes. Who showed me that my commander and my target were so different, that I... I just... lost something that day years ago. I saw you and him. Something connected me to sparnox the same way you both were. Perhaps because I know too much Vilgerfortz wants me in his hands."

"After I hid from duty, Iorweth found me in Flotsam. He offered me to be a medic in his hideout and help look after young elves. I agreed and spent there several months. There we met for the second time. We escaped and went separate ways. Eventually, I stayed in Vergen to make a living until they captured me. The next moment I am here."

Alan nodded, gathering his thoughts together.

"But why is he hunting you? I don't understand. Aren't you just a witcher with some talent for magic? Forgive my bluntness, but you have nothing he might want."

"And what is it he wants, do you know?"

"I... I don't. But he is searching for something. He is obsessed with it. And by it, I don't mean a thing. It is more like an idea for which he will do anything and to sacrifice anyone. Even to his most trusted people, he is a ticking bomb. Luckily, I understood it before he discarded me completely. Alan, he is a fanatic who sees the world as his playground and people as chess-pieces." - Naevis leaned against the chair and relaxed in its form. One must say it wasn't very comfortable. But after decompression one will feel weakness for several days.

She cracked her eyes and again studied curves of the face in front of her.

'He is very attractive. Even that scar only added history and mystery to his perfect face. I wonder how will he look in five years after completely maturing?'

She didn't feel shy, only curious. It was a strange novelty to her. That was the first time any man became a cause of such emotions in her heart.

"The war will come again." - she blurted. - "No matter what one says, Nilfgaard won't stop merely on Cintra. And if an empire can afford to bide time, to wait like a predator, then Northern Kingdoms can't."

"Is it because of Scoia'taels? They constantly destabilize the current peace and public unrest growing by the day. On the way, I saw the results of their hunt. They didn't bother to cover it up. They hang people on the trees, covering entire forests in the dead's stench and blood. They leave bodies of elderly and children to rot on the trading roads, piling them up. It is as if their aim to make a rift, to force people to hate and fear them." - Alan finally couldn't remain silent. - "And that is just half of it. Scoia'taels have their own share of sympathizers among commoners and nobility alike. North can't afford the wait. You will rot from within. It is only a matter of time before people tired of slaughter will take everything in their hands. And it's not Scoia'taels who will receive the main wave of retaliation. No. They will hide in the forests, out of reach. They will take the time to rearrange their troops to come out as a military force under the black banner. The ones to die will be dwarves like him." - Alan pointed at the blacksmith sitting nearby with a smile, while merely chatting with his friends, listening to music and drinking. - "Or mix blood like her." - he gave a nod at the baby girl, adorably running between tables after the cat. She had only a trace of elven blood.

"I know." - Naevis whispered and bit on her lips. - "It was a silly dream that only planted seeds of hatred and is a reason for civil war. All to make North weak."

"Yes. But you don't know that Emhyr is a fucking genius. On the surface, he sent his best troops for the conquest, but in reality, that was a brilliant purge with the borrowed blade. Lazy nobles, corrupted officials, high-ranking generals who lost their grip and had bellies huge enough to prevent them from moving. He transferred them all in the most renowned legions, they viewed it as a promotion to placate nobility after his ascension to the throne. He left commoners and talented people in unassuming positions to sharpen them. The defeat was a pretext for the purge of the guilty."

"While we are here dying under the arrows of his guerrilla troops, he went through his army like a reaper, drowning it in blood and uniting under his sole rule. He freed the top ranks from lazy idiots to let the young talents to climb higher."

"So when the second war starts North will bleed inside while facing renewed and very dangerous army outside. An army that knows what tactics and strategy are, captains that can make their subordinates fight to the last drop of blood with one word. Generals who excelled in deception and usage of siege machinery. Legions that can tear citadel walls like paper with no magic and have unbeatable cavalry. That is what I see as their plan. Defeat under Sodden? Low morale? Fuck, Emhyr really bent every king and fucked them from behind while laughing at their stupidity."

"Alan, language." - protested Naevis and sighed. She marveled at his insight and intelligence and his knowledge. She knew that he was right. She was on Nilfgaard side, seeing it all with her very eyes.

"Yeah, whatever." - he shrugged and took a sip of milk that red servant girl brought over. Why she was so shy was hard to say. Maybe because some customers slapped her butt and groped her breasts, or maybe because she disappeared for half an hour with some young noble recently. - "I know that it is not for me to change anything. I'm just a witcher. So I have a little heart that cares about a few things. But for these things, I'm willing to do many things. However... I'm not good at anything but killing. So, Naevis, I don't know whether you will stay here or go back, I don't trust you enough so let's make it clear. If some of my close people lose as much as a hair I will kill. I will behead whoever responsible, even if it is that precious Emhyr var Emreis, Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd, White Flame Dancing on the Graves of Foes."

"I understand." - Naevis sighed. - "But your message will remain here, Alan. I'm not leaving." - she suddenly stood up, walked over, and hugged him from behind, placing her chin of his shoulder.

"I don't want to leave. Don't drive me away. Not now. Please. I need you."

Alan sighed. He expected this answer.

Sighed and closed his eyes, drifting into the pleasant tranquility of subtle orchid scent.