Chapter 21

"Alright then, you sure you think you got the song down? It's only the afternoon and we can wait as late as the day after tomorrow to make sure you got this down." I asked.

"I appreciate your concern Markus but I assure you that I am quite ready. I paid the bard to write down the lyrics and double checked them myself to make sure they lined up correctly. It is a relatively simple yet emotional ballad of a hero helping to defend the helpless against a mad horde only to be struck down in process, held in the arms of his lover as his daughter arrives too late to save him. Just reading it struck an emotional chord within me and I am ashamed I have only heard of it in truth now! If this does not stir the unearthly soul then nothing will!" Ivar said with conviction and no small amount of praise for the creator of said ballad. Dandelion certainly has fans all over the Continent I suppose.

Still, even back at the tower within the relative safety of the local Order of the Flaming Rose chapter (and doesn't thinking that still throw me in for a loop), those mercs had spooked me a bit. Not so much for who they were but what they could be… did I make a mistake in letting a obviously hostile group go just so they can possibly attack me later? Did I put myself, Ivar, Dogmeat, Bolt, the farmer, and even the innkeeper in unnecessary harm's way by doing nothing like that? I try not to do things that make me question myself and dislike violence when it can be avoided, but did I simply delay it?

On the other hand, what could I have done? This wasn't the games; while Game!Geralt might get away with massacring people by the dozens in Novigrad without blowback, even if I did manage to kill them all - not that I wanted to slaughter a dozen-plus people even if they asked for it- all it would do is cement the terrible reputation Witchers had in Blaviken due to Geralt's actions all those years ago on a new generation. And I didn't have the power to use Axii on the whole lot of them, while using it on just a few would have been noticed by the rest and no doubt lead to the very conflict I was trying to avoid. The best I could do was act tough and make it seem like I wasn't worth it.

Well, the giant drunk and formerly depressed rock troll may have helped. Maybe. (Hey, I had my pride!)

Enough wallowing, there were spectors that needed singing to.

"Alright, you know the drill. You come with me, you stay close and listen to exactly what I say. This is important business and sadly most of the spectors are not the talkative type. We go in, we do this, hope it works, and work from there. Got it?" I must have stated for the fifth time.

"Absolutely!" Ivar nodded, though he still had an excited glint in his eye. He could keep it as long as he followed through on his duties.

I had prepared him the best I could by dipping some of the ammo for his sling in specter oil and, in an emergency, I could Sign a Quen in a dome form large enough for both of us, though that wouldn't last long since it was stretching the limits of basic magic. It might stand up to a handful of blows, at most, but that would give Ivar an edge for survival he otherwise lacked. I even gave him a few Yrden discs to hold and even fling if needed, thankfully as long as I carved them I could activate the Sign whenever I was within a certain range.

"I wish you luck on this endeavor, should you succeed you will have done what the Order could not for many years and for that alone you will have earned my respect." Roland said to the side as his knights were unbarring door once more, hopefully for the second to last time.

"Gonna need it. Mind watching Dogmeat while we are in there?" I asked while gesturing to the puppy currently pissing on the side of the tower. Egh, not like anyone cares.

"I shall without issue, a hound is a valuable companion after all. I remember my younger years when I would hunt with my father and several of our own…" Roland started to say but I just walked past him when the doors were totally open, I've never been much of a people person. He noticed as well and quickly coughed in embarrassment as me and Ivar headed inside.

Darkness enveloped us as the doors closed behind us.

"Ah! Markus! I can't see!" Ivar shouted in alarm.

Oh yeah, I was using Cat and he wasn't. That was an oversight on my part.

---

"I must say, while the illusions are disturbing at least they give off a faint glow. Are you sure they are not specters themselves?" Ivar asked while holding his hand, leading him deeper into the tower. I didn't think to bring torches so I was reduced to making sure he didn't get lost.

"I'm sure, in fact none of the usual ones have showed up yet. Guess their boss is keeping her side of the bargain… or holding them back till we are in front of her to jump us if we don't deliver." I realized myself.

Walking past crumpling illusions and through dilapidated hallways found us quickly towards the laboratory where Renfri's corpse remained. There wasn't any activity when we entered and as we got closer to it Ivar could clearly see enough in the low-light to get excited about seeing the possible anchor point of this particular wraith. Before he could do anything stupid like pick at her bones the room lit up.

First came Renfri's band, all at once they appeared and surrounded us. Their spectral weapons were not drawn and the specters themselves stood in a relaxed posture so I didn't think we were in any danger… for now at least. With the light they provided from their very beings I saw Ivar contain himself at their sight, but also a little fear as well at their sudden appearance.

Good to see he hasn't totally lost his survival instincts at least.

"You return, Witcher. Where is my proof of the deaths of those who damned me?! And who is this?!" Renfri sneered as she made her appearance known right by her bones, looking no better physically or emotionally than when I first saw her.

"Ivar Holien of the University of Lan Exeter, at your service milady. I am your proof, or at least a medium by which to express it." Ivar said with a surprising amount of respect and decorum to someone from whom most would likely run screaming.

"And how is that, scholar? Do you carry their hearts among your books and quills? I fail to see how else you will give me reason to think them dead." Renfri said, doubt dripping from her tone.

"Because I carry ballads of historic events made by one of the finest bards of our era, a man who while might stretch the truth as all bards do but never omits it. Tell me, who do you wish to hear of first, milady?" Ivar said in total seriousness.

Okay, it was the moment of truth. Would she take it?

"I… want to hear of the man who damned me first and ruined my life with a few pretty words. I want to know what became of Stregobor." Renfri finally said, to which Ivar nodded and cleared his throat before he finally let loose.

"On the isle of Thanedd sorcerer and sorceress met,

only to find betrayal and death.

Brotherhood broken by the Sun and the North,

undoing faith and ending men's breath.

Magic flew through the air seeking to strike down all…"

And for the next few minutes it continued like that. Ivar's surprisingly dulcet tones retold the tale of how not long ago the Brotherhood of Sorcerers met together and turned on each other between two political factions. It must have been some battle with all the magic being flung around between powerful mages, the kinda shit that I'm sure should have sunk the island it was happening on. It was also a nice reminder not to be in a room that had more than a handful of mages in it if I could help it. (How did Terry Pratchett put it? The plural for 'wizard' is 'war'.)

Throughout it all Renfri was quiet, focused entirely on the song, and even the other wraiths seemed transfixed.

As the song came to an end, stating how it led to the creation of the Lodge of Sorceresses, Renfri had this… drained yet defiant look on her face.

"That… that proves nothing! It says nothing of Stregobor's fate or if he was even there!" Renfri denied, and she technically wasn't wrong. However, I wanted to shake that belief.

"Practically all the mages of note in the North were there when the coup happened and even you can't deny that Stregobor had influence enough to count among them. The battle that followed was so fierce that many mages, even some of the oldest and most powerful, lost their lives. There has been no news about Stregobor since the coup gracing the court of any noble or king, which he would need in order to keep up the expensive lifestyle nearly all mages have. I have heard nothing of him in his native Kovir and Poviss as well. All this evidence either points to Stregobor as either having gone to ground so completely he has erased himself from the world or he is dead. What do you think is more likely?" I asked.

Renfri paused… before a look of peace came over her features.

I watched transfixed as her body just changed.

The y-shaped incision on her chest sealed up, the missing parts of her body were restored, and in general she looked much more human in appearance than she had before. The only things that remained were the injuries that Geralt had inflicted, but compared to earlier, what stood before me was not a mutilated ghost but a semi-normal woman. She looked both me and Ivar straight in the eyes and I swear I saw tears despite that I knew for a fact that shouldn't be physically possible.

"He's… he's finally gone. After years of hunting me, hurting me, of telling everyone I was a monster that was going to destroy everything, driving everyone away from me, claiming his prize and humiliating me even more in death… he is finally gone. I hope he suffered and his soul burns in hell." Renfri finished.

I have to admit, I felt for her. While she was certainly a bad person willing to do bad things in life it was a product of her terrible upbringing from the day she was born. Being seen as a monster that was going to bring the end of days and simply wanting to take back something in a life she had little to no control over. That did not excuse her actions but it did make them understandable.

I honestly couldn't feel any pity for Stregebor anyhow, the man made the prophecy self-fulfilling with his actions in the end after all.

"I didn't know him personally, but I agree that it couldn't have happened to a better guy." I said simply.

"Indeed, if even half of what Markus told me of his deeds he casts shame on all scholars." Ivar said with restrained fury. Seems like a scholar abusing others for the sake of their research was his berserk button. "Would you like to hear the next ballad, milady?" he offered her.

"Yes, please." was her simple response. Ivar cleared his throat once more and began.

"Of the White Wolf you've heard,

Of his triumphs you know,

But in Rivia's lands,

At last his blood did flow.

From eyes filled with sheer hate,

And lips flowing with bile,

Against them he stood tall,

On his face was a smile.

His steel sword swung a-pace…"

And just like before the song continued for a bit. With aplomb, Ivar told the heroic tale of how Geralt of Rivia fell defending the innocent and friends alike from a mad mob seeking to slay all those they hated for the stupidest of reasons. How his lover tried to save him with her magic but could not and how Ciri, his daughter in all but blood, arrived too late to help. I was always curious personally how Geralt of all people fell against a mob of all things with his skill and his friends by his side.

There were likely tons of factors I wasn't aware of, like why didn't Quen protect him, or why he didn't use a potion, where were Yennefer, Triss, Zoltan, and even Dandelion in all this? Surely no mere mob could have gotten past all of them… It just sounds super fishy no matter how you look at it.

I either blame Destiny, some cabal of mages, Nilfgaard, or even the King of the Wild Hunt for some shady shit in all this honestly.

Focus on the ghost lady Markus, you can mentally rant later.

A series of expressions passed over Renfri's face, almost too fast for me to decipher. Almost. Satisfaction, confusion, rage… regret?

As all this happened I watched as, like with their boss, Geralt's killing strikes on Renfri's band disappeared before each one started to wink out of existence one by one until only the woman in question remained. I watched as her own did as well and if it wasn't for her glowly and translucent nature she would look like any other attractive woman. Her face also held none of the rage of before, all that was left as relief and exhaustion. The weight that bound her to the world lifted after so long.

"Such a surprise, he sounded much different than when I knew him in life. I could never imagine Geralt of all people going out to save strangers and have those mourning him when he passed. I always regretted we had to be enemies… but now I regret that I wanted him dead so badly when unlike Stregobor he never truly was a bad man. Now that they are both gone I feel relief, but also strangely hollow. I suppose that is to be expected, victory never truly being as sweet as people say." Renfri smiled a little sadly. "And I don't know what happens from here… do you Witcher, Markus?"

"Sorry, not even we Witchers really know what happens after death. I have theories… but no real proof that would satisfy. Just… try to think of it as the next great adventure, and hopefully it will be a better one than the last." I said kindly.

Renfri smirked, and for a moment I could see the spirited beauty that could have had a country at her feet. She might have even been a great ruler that her people loved and brought something amazing to the world. Hopefully she gets another chance somehow. "Sadly, that won't be a high bar to pass. But even so - thank you...Witcher…for everything."

At those last words the spirit of Renfri, a daughter of the Black Sun, finally passed from this world in a cloud of light that dispersed into nothingness.

Ivar and I just stood there for a couple of moments, really absorbing what we had accomplished that day. This honestly wasn't for Blaviken in the end, but something much more. The soul of a girl who could finally find peace when all her life she had none.

"Markus, I must say that what we did here this day was… Markus? Are you… crying?" Ivar said in surprise as I quickly turned away and wiped at the water leaking from my face.

"Naw, must be a side effect of being a Witcher, don't worry about it. Come on, we have bones to collect to give a proper burial, a tower to deem clean, and pay to collect. I've had enough excitement for one day." I quickly changed topics and focused on something else or I would start ugly crying like I am prone to do during really emotional moments.

I can't ruin the Witcher reputation that much after all, if I ran into any of them then they would never let me hear the end of it.

"Ha! Of course my friend, I believe I will have much to write about this day… and I promise to not go over too many details." Ivar said with a smirk as he followed me.

"You'd better." I muttered.

I was allowed to be immature sometimes, sue me.