"Yes… Allen is a witcher, and he will forever be a witcher…"
Vera's sigh drifted away with the howling sea wind.
Tissaia de Vries wanted to say something—to comfort her mentor's final disciple, her ally she relied upon, her close friend in her heart, or at least the friend she once believed her to be.
But when she searched her mind, she found that there were no words she could use.
Yes.
She had never been a gifted speaker or politician. The reason she had become who she was today—Tissaia de Vries, the highest-ranking sorceress on the Northern Continent—
In the past, she relied on their mentor's standing within the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. Now, she relied on Aretuza's influence in the supernatural world.
It had always been others who weighed their words carefully before her, currying favor with caution—never the other way around.
Eloquence and empathy were both skills. Skills, like spells, required practice to improve. She had never practiced them, and so she was naturally weak with words. Fortunately, Vera did not need her comfort and continued speaking on her own.
Tissaia de Vries felt that perhaps Vera had never harbored hope at all.
When she realized this, her heart trembled faintly before she continued listening.
Vera said, "No one can, with just a few words, persuade a mother to give up her own child. Even if that person is Ymir Isaac—High Priest of Kreve, Great Prophet, and seer—it wouldn't work."
"Sol hesitated as well."
"He still retained the habits of a duke's legitimate son, revering Ymir Isaac like all orthodox nobles of the Northern Continent. But no matter what, Allen was his child—his most precious treasure, something he was never supposed to have."
"And the Wolf School only takes in twenty or thirty children a year to Kaer Morhen. For a child to become a witcher, aside from fools like Sol who volunteered themselves, it was never easy."
"The Law of Surprise?" Tissaia de Vries asked.
Vera nodded. "Witchers accept apprentices through the choice of fate. Allen was our child. His birth was a miracle, but it had nothing to do with destiny—at least, that's what we naively believed at the time."
"So you resisted?" Tissaia de Vries frowned, as though she had thought of something.
"It wasn't resistance," Vera shook her head. "We simply did nothing. Changed nothing."
"I secluded myself in the Temple of Melitele to continue raising Allen. Sol took contracts around Temeria and returned to Kaer Morhen once a year before coming back. We lived like that for two full years without incident."
"That was truly a wonderful time," Vera lifted her head to gaze at the cloud-covered sky, as if looking at a sky full of stars. "Spring—the most beautiful season of the year at the Temple of Melitele."
"The weather was neither too cold nor too hot."
"Allen was very well-behaved. As long as a few protective charms were tied to the cradle's crossbar, he could smile and play all day."
"In the mornings, when the dew was heavy, I would gently rock the cradle, dazedly watching the fine, soft lanugo slowly grow on his round little head, teaching him to call me 'mother' for the entire morning."
"Then, after lunch brought by Ianna in the afternoon, the three of us—sometimes Sol as well—would stroll through the temple garden, breathing in the refreshing fragrance of flowers."
"I would pretend to be a noblewoman married from Toussaint into Temeria, chatting with other ladies out for walks, idly talking about our children, wasting an entire afternoon away. No one recognized me as the terrifying Crimson Fox."
"Often before night fell, Sol would return. He would remove his armor in the outer room first, let me cast a spell to cleanse every trace of blood from him, and only then enter the inner room to hold the child…"
"But children's senses are always sharp. He would frown his tiny brow that hadn't yet grown eyebrows, purse his little lips…"
"Sometimes he would cry. Sometimes he wouldn't."
"Sol was always troubled by this, but if I told him not to go out and take contracts, he wouldn't listen…"
"We were like an ordinary couple in the mortal world. Aside from lacking a marriage blessed by our parents, we lacked nothing."
"And even that marriage—if Duchess Henrietta and Count Triennes had still been alive, they would certainly have blessed us and rejoiced at Allen's birth."
"At that time, we both believed Ymir Isaac's prophecy was nothing more than an extremely malicious joke."
"But…"
Vera took a deep breath, tilted her head back, and closed her eyes. "An accident happened."
The Tower of Tor Lara fell silent for a long time.
Tissaia de Vries did not urge her on. Watching Vera's trembling thin lips, she felt as though Vera was trapped in a nightmare that had lasted decades—a nightmare from which she had never awakened.
"First, on Allen's second birthday, even though we were at the Temple of Melitele, surrounded by the most professional herbalists and physicians, Allen suddenly caught a very ordinary cold the next day."
"At the time, we didn't pay it any attention. We thought children falling ill was normal and didn't realize it was only the beginning."
"But then, for reasons unknown, a ghoul actually slipped into the sacred Temple of Melitele."
"That ghoul crossed countless barriers from the back mountains of Mahakam, avoided every guard in the temple, and showed no interest whatsoever in the blood-heavy birthing ward—instead coming straight to Allen, who was playing in the sand…"
"I was napping right beside him, and yet I didn't sense anything at all…"
"A mere ghoul, Tissaia. Can you imagine it?"
Vera looked at Tissaia de Vries in terror, her voice hoarse.
"A single ghoul managed to evade me—to evade the perception of every priestess in the temple…"
"If Sol hadn't happened to return from a contract at that very moment, Allen… Allen…"
Vera did not continue. She took another deep breath and steadied herself. "But that didn't defeat us. Sol truly began to hesitate, but Ianna and I convinced him."
"Ianna strengthened the temple's defenses. At the time, the Falka Rebellion hadn't ended long ago, and Temeria was full of roaming bandits. Under Ianna's full control of the Temple of Melitele, the matter was quickly covered up. No one knew…"
"And then it truly was safe for quite a long time, although wild boars, ghouls, bears, and wolves would still inexplicably appear from some corner."
"Until…"
"The Black Death plague appeared in Vizima?" Tissaia de Vries sighed and continued for her.
After hearing that long-silenced "but," she had already guessed—or rather, calculated it.
For even in her long life, the Black Death plague had been far too bloody and cruel.
Entire cities, one after another. White cloth hung from every household door. Thick smoke from burning corpses filled the skies above every city in Temeria. Even within Aretuza on Thanedd Island, piercing screams echoed.
Night after night, without cease.
Such a deeply etched memory—no one could forget it. Tissaia de Vries was human, and naturally no exception.
Vera fell silent for a few seconds, then nodded gravely. "Yes. Until the Black Death appeared in Vizima and rapidly spread to Ellander."
"But Ellander had the best physicians," Tissaia de Vries said. "In the end, the Black Death was eradicated under the control of the Temple of Melitele's doctors and herbalists. Aside from priests and physicians who went out to treat others, it never affected the temple."
"No, it did," Vera shook her head. "When the Black Death 'left' Vizima, the first major city it infected was Ellander—was the Temple of Melitele."
"How could that be?" Tissaia de Vries frowned deeply. "I remember—"
"It was the Temple of Melitele," Vera raised her hand to interrupt. "Because I saw the Black Death with my own eyes—inside the Temple of Melitele—right in front of me, only seven or eight steps away from Allen's swaddled cradle…"
At this description, even Tissaia de Vries froze.
Vera did not keep her in suspense. Taking a deep breath, she said, "At noon on the third day after the Temple of Melitele dispatched its second group of clergy to Vizima, I was about to carry Allen to the temple garden for a walk."
"With a 'creak,' the wooden door had only opened halfway when my arm stiffened and froze mid-motion…"
"I will never forget that sight."
"A plague maiden was floating silently in front of the cabin, beneath the shadow of that yew tree, facing the house, utterly motionless."
"Her eerie green skirt swayed. Her jet-black hair stood straight upward toward the sky. Her body was covered in red sores and blisters. When a faint breeze passed, rotting flesh fell like leaves, splattering onto the ground with wet slaps, to be devoured by rats that had come from nowhere…"
"The creaking of the door stopped. The mountain wind blowing from Mahakam stopped at once. The rats feeding on the flesh stopped as well and turned to look at me."
"The air was filled with an indescribable stench of blood and decay. Thinking back now, that may have been the smell of death itself."
"Do you know what was the most terrifying thing?"
Vera suddenly pulled her gaze away from the dark abyss beneath their feet and turned to stare directly into Tissaia de Vries's brown eyes.
"What?" Tissaia de Vries held her breath unconsciously and pressed for the answer. "Did the plague maiden and the swarm of plague rats charge at you?"
"No. Quite the opposite. They didn't move at all," Vera shook her head and took another deep breath. "They stood perfectly still, waiting for the wooden door's groan to stop, then stared at me without moving—just as if fate itself were looking at me through the plague maiden's rotting eyes…"
"No. That was fate issuing a warning—a warning to us…"
"Humans can never resist a predetermined destiny…"
Listening to Vera's voice—so soft, like murmuring in a nightmare—Tissaia de Vries couldn't help but shiver, as though at this very moment, fate were also gazing at her through Vera's dark-red, lifeless eyes.
"And then?" Tissaia de Vries instinctively broke the eerie atmosphere.
"After that, I clutched Allen tightly—trembling as I held my treasure, my flesh and blood, my pride—afraid to utter a single word," Vera said, spreading her arms as if embracing her chest. "Sol sensed something was wrong in the inner room, rushed out, drew his sword, and charged at the plague maiden…"
"With just one strike, the plague maiden vanished beneath the yew tree, leaving behind nothing but a vast carpet of plague-rat corpses…"
"One strike?!" Tissaia de Vries couldn't help interrupting.
Plague maidens were powerful specter-type monsters. No matter how strong Sol was, it was impossible for him to destroy one without resistance with a single sword stroke.
"Yes—only one strike," Vera nodded, continuing her nightmare-like murmur. "Almost at the very instant the plague maiden disappeared, both Sol and I felt it in our hearts…"
"It was merely a messenger, delivering the final warning letter from merciless fate."
"After that, Sol and I stayed awake all night. The next day, we bade farewell to Ianna. Sol took Allen back to Kaer Morhen, while I went to the Temple of Kreve to personally confirm Ymir Isaac's prophecy…"
"Then I didn't return to the Wolf School. I hid in an estate in Toussaint like a coward, hiding for two whole years before finally going to Kaer Morhen."
"By then, Allen had already begun witcher training and mutation."
"I had a huge fight with Sol, calling him cold-blooded, calling him cruel—but in my heart I knew that the truly cowardly one wasn't Sol Henrietta…"
"It was me. Vera Triennes."
"The legitimate daughter of House Triennes, whose emblem is the valiant lion."
"And yet I didn't even dare witness Allen taking his very first step into the abyss, and instead stood there making a scene."
"So, Tissaia…"
Vera reached out and grasped Tissaia de Vries's hand, her eyes pleading. "Allen is everything to me. He has just barely returned from the abyss of death—don't let him step into another abyss. At least, not now."
Tissaia de Vries felt the chill in Vera's palm and mocked herself inwardly for what kind of person she must appear to others.
"Vera, if you put it like that, what choice do I have?"
Vera froze. She hadn't expected Tissaia de Vries to agree so directly.
"But you must understand, Vera," Tissaia de Vries said, "Dol Dhu Lokke is dangerous, but it is not a dead end—and it is not Ban Ard, which Allen secretly infiltrated without informing anyone."
"With me, you, Sol, and the Wolf School and Griffin School's many witcher masters present, there is no place on the Northern Continent safer than Dol Dhu Lokke would be at that time."
Vera remained unmoved.
For Allen, was the true danger of the Dol Dhu Lokke expedition really the monsters?
"Besides," Tissaia de Vries paused, then said, "are you certain our miracle child wouldn't appear at Dol Dhu Lokke anyway?"
Vera recalled how, in the first half of the year, her Allen had been present in nearly every major event. She stiffened, then clenched her teeth and said: "I will stop him. I promise!"
...............
📢Advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: [email protected]/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
1. 20 advanced chapters of The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes.
2. 30 advanced chapters of What year is this? You're still writing a traditional diary?.