The mystery unravels

Geralt and Atram were sitting quietly at their table, thinking about the current situation. Despite their obvious appetite, they hadn't touched the hearty stew resting in front of them. The reason for that was the girl named Elsa, who claimed to be the inkeeper's daughter. However, both had seen something disturbing about the girl's complexity.

For one, she was clearly being abused by her so called father, who clearly had a tendency towards violence. Her porcelain skin bore burn marks that couldn't be from her work in the inn's kitchen, as well as large bruises that had a purple tint to them. While her vibrant blue eyes tried to hide the pain with a forced smile, a more astute observer could see they held a deep sadness that seemed to reflect the suffering she was enduring.

Even though that was the cause of Atram's anger and, to some extent, Geralt's as well, there was something else about Elsa that unnerved the latter.

His medallion responded with a faint hum as she approached to place the plates on their table. Which could mean that either she was a magical creature or she was under a curse. Yet if it were either of those things, his enchanted amulet would react with more intensity. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it reminded him of being close to a sorceress.

But why would she be serving in a tavern if she is a mistress of the arcane? he pondered. Realizing this was going nowhere, he decided to break the heavy silence between them and solicit his companion's input.

"That girl, Elsa, what do you make of her?" he asked, leaning forward.

Atram raised a brow at that. "I have some strong and violent thoughts about her father. As for the girl, I feel sorry for her. No one should endure something like that." He paused and scoffed. "So much for good folk in this world, huh?"

Geralt nodded but stated his concern. "Maybe you didn't realize because you were so focused on her injuries, but your medallion should have hummed as well. You know what that means, right?"

Atram's eyes widened. "Are you suggesting that she might be a monster in disguise? A bruxa or a doppler?"

Geralt shook his head. "Not necessarily. It could also mean that she has been cursed or enchanted. Can't be certain about anything without furter examination."

Atram cast a quick glance at the people of the inn. The travelers playing cards had shifted their focus to their table, and they seemed to have had a few drinks too many. While the rowdy mercenaries were entertaining themselves with an intense round of five finger fillet. Apart from them, the inn was empty, and its owner was nowhere to be found.

He looked at Geralt mischievously. "Shall we test and find out?"

Geralt gave him a pondering look. "Let's see what our options are. Firstly, she can't be a vampire, lesser or otherwise. Her regeneration would heal her wounds in an instant. And frankly, if she were a monster, she wouldn't have chosen an inn as her feeding ground, what with all the silver she'd have to touch."

Atram nodded. "Even the coins contain a speck of silver. So that leaves us with a curse or an enchanted item on her person. Shall I cast the spell we used once at Kaer Morhen?"

Geralt gave it some thought before realizing what he was talking about. "'Detect magic'? I agree. It would be perfect for this situation. It is a silent, subtle enchantment that not even our medallions could detect."

"Uh-huh. Oh, she's coming out of the kitchen right now." Atram noted and concentrated on the incantation. He connected his hands in a way that formed two eyes close to each other and whispered, 'Anichneux Magia(Detect Magic)'. After finishing the spell, a faint arcane glow emanated from his irises, but said glow was only visible to people with sensitive magical senses.

Looking at her, he noticed a distinct, but not sinister, aura enveloping her entire body. It had a glacial hue that wrapped her in an ethereal, almost otherworldly glow. He couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia at the sight before him.

He turned his attention to Geralt and gave him a smile. "Our suspect is neither cursed nor in possession of a magical artifact. She is a sorceress, a child blessed by the ether itself."

Geralt let out a sigh of relief at his words. However, a thought crossed his mind, and his mood darkened once more. "Sources are ticking time bombs," he muttered. "If they are left untrained, they can become unstable and dangerous not only to themselves but to those around them as well.

Atram shook his head in agreement. "Given how her father treats her, it's only a matter of time before she 'explodes'."

"The only place that could train her is Aretuza, but the academy has stringent admission requirements and a high entry fee." 

Atram tapped his chin in thought. "Maybe that Yennefer of yours can help. She is a mage, and according to your words, a powerful one at that."

Geralt made a halting gesture with his hands. "Hold your horses. We know nothing of the girl in question. We can't just assume she'll be willing to attend the academy."

"That can be easily fixed." Atram said, wiggling his finger at Elsa, who approached with a hesitant step.

"Oh gods." Geralt said, trying to seem busy by playing with his stew.

"What can I do for you, master witchers?" She asked timidly, her fingers twirling a strand of hair nervously.

Atram cleared his throat and spoke up, "Lass, do we scare you? No? Then stop fidgeting and look me in the eyes." He demanded in a voice that made her instinctively drop her hand and meet his gaze.

Atram nodded in approval with a slight smile on his face before taking a more serious tone. "I noticed the marks on your arms... I won't ask who did that to you because it's not my place to do so. What I will offer instead is an opportunity to leave everything behind and start over."

Elsa looked around anxiously, her hands covering her bruises. Her mind, a swirl of emotions that passed through her like a tornado. Finally, she inhaled deeply and tried to calm herself down.

"Master witcher, I-I appreciate your offer," she stammered, her voice wavering with uncertainty as she shook her head. "But I don't know if I can trust you."

"I understand your hesitation," he acknowledged, his tone gentle yet earnest. "I'm a stranger and, more importantly, a filthy mutant who apparently whisks away children in the middle of the night to enact foul sorceries upon them." His words dripped with sarcasm, his lips curling into a wry smile as he feigned hurt.

Elsa shook her hands apologetically. "No, no, sir! I didn't mean it like that. In fact, I admire the work you witchers do. My mother once said, that without you, our world would be overrun with monsters and beasts. I think it's incredible how you all dedicate your lives to protecting us from these dangerous creatures, despite the adversity you face," she said in quick succession, her words pouring out with genuine admiration.

Atram and Geralt were taken aback by the young girl's words.

"Your mother is a wise woman." Geralt replied with a hint of a smile on his face.

Elsa nodded, her eyes welling up with tears that she swept away with her sleeve. "Aye, she was."

Geralt shifted awkwardly in his seat, seeing that he caused distress to the young girl.

"I am sorry for your loss, Elsa." Atram said in a soft voice, trying to console her.

Elsa sniffled and took a deep breath before speaking. "You are too kind, master witcher. Thank you."

Atram nodded slowly. "Then it is simply because we are strangers, right? Hmm, i see." He spread his palm and continued. "Place your hand on mine, Elsa. Let me show you something."

She paused for a moment, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, before finally doing as she was told.

Suddenly, she felt the 'immensity' of the man before her as his energy coursed through her body. She gasped in surprise as the bruises and burns on her body started to close up and disappear. She felt light as a feather, and her mind had a clarity she had never experienced before. She looked down at her now-unblemished arms, which no longer pained her.

She tilted her head upwards, unable to believe what had just happened. "How did you do that?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief and awe, still in shock at the miraculous transformation she had just witnessed.

Atram gave her a roguish smile that made her blush. "A master never reveals his tricks. That was a gesture of good faith. I know it isn't much, but that's all I can do."

With that said, he stood up, grabbed his plate, and gulped down the contents in a matter of seconds.

Elsa had to take a step back, astounded by the man's size.

"If you want to learn more about that opportunity I was talking about, knock on our door." He explained and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes freedom demands a leap of faith. Will you take it, or will you remain in this hovel of pain and suffering?" He grasped her shoulder firmly but gently. "The choice is yours."

Elsa looked up at him, her eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of fear. But something about this man's words stirred something within her. Something that she had stopped dreaming about, something that felt so distant and unattainable in her current situation. Hope.

"I-I'll think about it." She replied nervously.

"Good, that's all I ask," Atram stated as he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there with a million thoughts racing through her mind.

Geralt noticed her expression and tried to suppress a chuckle as he passed by.

Great! It seems I'm traveling with another 'Dandelion'. He thought to himself as he picked up his cloak and followed Atram to their room.