TEMERIA – VELEN – VILLAGE OF BENEK
The village of Benek rose from the murky Velen in a cluster of huddled buildings that seemed to shrink into themselves against the oppressive surrounding ancient forest. The road that led to it was little more than a dirt track, rutted and muddy, winding through fields that had long since been abandoned to weeds and brambles.
Sebastian rode at the head of their small party, his yellow eyes sweeping the landscape with vigilance, he had learned to expect danger around every corner. His medallion had been trembling since they had entered Velen a constant, low vibration that spoke of magic both old and malignant. The witches of the Crookback Bog, the spirits of the ancient forest, the monsters that lurked in the shadows, they were all here and he knew about them all, hiding just beyond the edge of perception, waiting for the unwary to stumble into their territory.
But they were also skilled at concealment. Velen was a hunting ground, and its inhabitants had long ago learned to adapt. The people who lived here knew better than to draw attention to themselves. They kept their heads down, their doors barred, and their mouths shut.
The village itself was a surprise. By the standards of Velen, it was almost prosperous, a cluster of sturdy cottages with thatched roofs, a small square with a well at its center, a windmill creaking in the distance. But by any other standard, it was still a shithole. The buildings were weathered and worn, their walls stained with years of rain and neglect. The streets were muddy and littered with refuse.
And the people, they were a different kind of surprise.
The moment Sebastian rode into the village, heads turned. Eyes widened. Whispers spread, growing louder as they passed from mouth to mouth. Men and women alike stopped what they were doing, their faces hardening into masks of suspicion and fear.
"A witcher," someone muttered. "By the gods, a mutant come to our village."
Another voice, sharper and more hostile, cut through the murmurs. "What business does a mutant have with us? We've done nothin' to warrant the attention of his kind.."
A woman spat into the mud as Sebastian passed, her eyes burning with a hatred that seemed entirely disproportionate to the situation. "Get out of our village, you freak! We don't want yer kind here!"
Zoltan's jaw tightened. He leaned toward Sebastian, his voice a low growl. "Fucking bastards.. The cunts who murdered that lass probably live right here among 'em, give me the word and I'll gut them myself."
Dandelion's eyes darted nervously around the square. "Hey, shush. Keep it down. We don't need to bring that up.. Not here, not now."
Sebastian nodded slowly. "Yeah, calm donw. We can only stay for a bit, we should find the village elder for answers, under the cover of me looking for work, of course." He paused, his eyes scanning the village. "But now that I look at it, this village is not exactly that populated.."
Dandelion followed his gaze. "Yeah..."
Zoltan's voice was grim. "Maybe they all fucking died anyway. Dark magic is not to be messed with.. Sacrificing an innocent like that lass, that kind of thing leaves a mark..."
Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps. Or it was like this even back then."
Zoltan's gaze drifted to a house at the edge of the village. It was set apart from the others, its walls overgrown with ivy and climbing roses that had long since gone wild. A wooden barrier surrounded it, rough-hewn and hastily constructed, as if the villagers had tried to wall it off from the rest of the village.
"Look," Zoltan said, pointing. "That's the one the lass told us about. Must have been her house. Though she only mentioned flowers... vines are all over the place now."
Dandelion's eyes widened. "Oh, you're right! That's it. That's the house!"
Sebastian studied the structure, his expression thoughtful. "Well, it's been years, and clearly no one has been taking care of it. They even put a wooden barrier around it, as if she was some sort of plague they got rid off."
Zoltan's voice was hard. "Fair enough. Let's take a look."
They dismounted, their boots squelching in the mud as they approached the house. The barrier was made of rough-hewn planks, nailed together with no care for aesthetics. It was not meant to keep anything out, it was meant to keep something in. Or to keep something hidden.
They were examining the barrier when a voice called out from behind them.
"Hey, you strangers! What business do ye have with Marian's house?"
Sebastian turned. A young woman stood at the edge of the square, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes sharp and suspicious. She was perhaps twenty, with dark hair and a face that had seen too much hardship for her years. Her clothes were simple but clean, and there was a defiant set to her jaw that set her apart from the other villagers.
Zoltan's eyebrows rose. "Marian's house, you say?"
Sebastian stepped forward, his voice calm and steady. "Apologies, but we have business with the owner of this house."
The woman's eyes narrowed. "Ye have business with a lass that died five years ago? Ye are a terrible liar, master witcher."
A faint smile tugged at Sebastian's lips. "You saw right through me. Yeah, it was a terrible lie. May I ask you what happened to this Marian?"
The woman sighed, her shoulders sagging. "She was a foreigner from the south who settled here five years ago. Came with Edmond, her partner, who is the son of the elder here in the village." She paused, her eyes darkening. "The people of the village never liked her. Even though she was so bright and kind, they accused her of many things. Till the day they forced her out." Her voice dropped. "I don't know what happened, but I heard she died in the woods, the beasts got to her."
Sebastian's expression was calm. "I see."
He walked toward her, his steps slow, his yellow eyes fixed on her face. She took a step back, her wariness returning, but he stopped at a respectful distance.
"What's your name?" Sebastian asked.
The woman hesitated. Then, quietly "Estrid.."
Sebastian smiled, warm and reassuring. "You seem like an honest human being, Estrid. I believe every word you said. I shall also share a little secret with you." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I have met Marian."
Estrid's eyes widened. "Ye... did? But... does that mean she is alive? Oh, that's lovely I..."
Sebastian raised a hand, silencing her gently. "I have met her ghost."
Estrid's face went pale. "What..."
Sebastian's voice was calm, "And she shared some interesting details about her death. Where can I meet this elder and her so-called partner, Edmond?"
Estrid was silent for a long moment, her eyes searching Sebastian's face. Then, slowly, she raised her hand and pointed toward a house at the far end of the village, near the windmill.
"That house near the windmill," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "But I warn ye, the elder is not so kind to strangers. Especially mutant strangers."
Sebastian nodded. "You don't seem to mind my kind."
Estrid's expression softened. "I don't. Unlike many villagers here, I have a good eye for people."
Sebastian's smile returned. "I believe so as well."
At that moment, Dandelion emerged from the house, his face flushed with excitement. "I found that neckla.." He stopped, his eyes falling on Estrid. "Oh. Who is this?"
Zoltan gestured toward her. "A villager here. She just shared some interesting details. Apparently, they used the poor lass as a sacrifice, but only few knew about it. This lass was kept in the dark."
Before Dandelion could respond, a voice boomed from a nearby house. An old man emerged, his face twisted with fury, his eyes fixed on Estrid.
"Estrid! By the gods! What did I tell ye about talking to strangers?!" He stormed toward her, his gnarled hands clenched into fists. "Get back here! Don't even look them in the eye!"
Estrid's face crumpled. "But, Father, they knew Marian! I.."
The old man cut her off, his voice sharp and venomous. "I said get back inside now! And enough about that wench! She was a witch, I tell ye! A witch who brought nothin' but trouble to this village!"
Estrid's shoulders sagged. She looked at Sebastian, her eyes pleading. "I'm sorry..."
Then she turned and hurried back into the house, the door slamming shut behind her.
Dandelion stared at the closed door, his expression one of disgust. "What an asshole!"
Zoltan's voice was low and grim. "I don't like this village, Sebastian."
Sebastian's expression was cold, his yellow eyes fixed on the house near the windmill. "Me too, Zoltan. Me too."
He turned and began walking toward the elder's house, his companions falling into step behind him.
"Let's go see this elder," Sebastian said.
/-\
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