The abandoned house of Marian with its walls that were overgrown with ivy and climbing roses that had long since gone wild, their blooms faded and withered. The wooden barrier that surrounded it was still intact, a crude monument to the villagers' fear and hatred. Sebastian pushed open the door, its hinges groaning in protest. The interior was dark and dusty, the furniture covered in sheets that had yellowed with age. The remnants of a life, a chair, a table, a bed.
Zoltan followed him inside, his thick fingers brushing against the dust-covered surfaces. His voice was low, thoughtful. "Let me get this straight, Sebastian. The curse is real.. Marian was killed off because they thought she was the source of this curse... and not because they are evil pricks?"
Dandelion, who had been poking through a pile of debris in the corner, straightened up. "Are we supposed to feel sorry for them?"
Sebastian shook his head slowly. "It was still wrong to kill her. She was innocent, but yes, they did think it was her." He paused, his eyes scanning the room. "The elder knows he made a mistake. Either that, or he thinks he made it worse by killing 'the witch' who caused it. In any case, if they regret it or not, it doesn't matter to us. The truth of the matter is that she is dead, killed for nothing, and the curse is still active."
He turned to face them, his yellow eyes meeting theirs. "We could just leave and be on our way. Let them suffer, it can be considered retribution for their actions. Or we could help. The choice is yours."
Dandelion glanced at Zoltan, his brow furrowed. "The choice is ours?"
Sebastian nodded. "You're both here because you chose to be. You're not witchers. You're not bound by any code, if you want us to leave, I won't stop you, we can continue on our path to Vizima and leave all of this behind us."
Zoltan was silent for a long moment. He stroked his beard, his eyes fixed on the floor. Then he spoke. "I hate these people," Zoltan said. "But there is that lass who was kind with you and with us, who was more open to share things about that fine lass they killed. We can't just condemn everyone to suffer because of the actions of a few, I feel that's the decent way to go on with this... right?"
Dandelion nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "The ghost of Marian also said these were simple folk, and didn't wish them harm after everything.. Part of her knew something was wrong, I suppose.."
Sebastian smiled. "Very well." His voice hardened. "I also want justice. But I also want to see this through. I want to get to the bottom of this, and I want to find out what plagues this place."
He turned back to the room, his eyes sweeping the corners, the shadows, the places where secrets might hide. He began to search, lifting old clothes, peering into cupboards, running his fingers along the edges of the floorboards.
The house was bare. Whatever had been here had been taken, destroyed, or hidden. The villagers had been thorough. They had stripped the place of anything that might have held meaning, leaving behind only the shell of a life that had been extinguished.
Zoltan and Dandelion joined him, their own searches turning up nothing. Zoltan lifted a dust-covered rag and let it fall. Dandelion opened a drawer to find it empty. They moved from room to room, their frustration growing.
Then Sebastian found it.
Tucked beneath a loose floorboard, hidden in a space that had been overlooked, was a small leather-bound book. Its cover was worn, its pages yellowed with age. He opened it carefully, his fingers gentle, and found that most of the pages were blank. Only a few had been written on, entries in a delicate, looping hand that spoke of everyday life.
The entries were fragmentary, incomplete, offering only glimpses of the woman who had written them. And then they stopped.
Sebastian closed the book, his expression one of frustration. "There's nothing here. Nothing useful.."
Dandelion sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I'm sure we didn't miss anything back there. We searched everything the first time we entered, and even now everything here is still useless."
Zoltan nodded, his voice carrying the same tone of defeat. "Aye. The villagers must have taken anything that might have been useful to them."
Sebastian stood in the doorway of the house, his eyes fixed on the village. The grey light of the afternoon was fading, casting long shadows across the muddy square. The windmill creaked in the distance. A dog barked somewhere in the village.
And then something caught his eye.
He narrowed his gaze, focusing on a house in front of Marian's, the house where Estrid had been called inside by her father. There was something on the roof.
"Hold on," Sebastian said, his voice low and intent.
Dandelion and Zoltan looked up. "What is it?" Dandelion asked.
Sebastian did not answer. He was already moving, his boots carrying him across the muddy square toward Estrid's house. His eyes were fixed on the rooftop, his jaw tightened, and his hand drifted to the hilt of his silver sword.
"The crows," Sebastian said, his voice low and intent. "On top of the girl's house. Estrid's."
Dandelion blinked, squinting at the rooftop. "What of them? They're just crows. They're everywhere in Velen."
Sebastian shook his head slowly. "Didn't you notice? They've been there since the moment we stepped foot here. Never leaving. Never moving."
Zoltan rubbed his bearded chin, his brow furrowed. "Sorry, lad, but I don't exactly pay attention to these sorts of things. Crows are crows, they gather where they please."
Sebastian's expression was grim. "Crows don't gather like that unless there's something drawing them, or controlling them.."
Dandelion's face paled. "You think... you think they're connected to the curse?"
Sebastian's voice was certain. "I think I know what's going on here."
Dandelion's eyes widened. "You do?"
Sebastian nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on the crows. "Only one way to find out. We need to check the woods. The ones the elder mentioned."
He turned to his companions, his yellow eyes burning. "I'll bet we find something extremely disturbing there."
Dandelion swallowed hard. "Can I wait here? I could keep watch, make sure no one.."
Zoltan cut him off, his voice flat and unyielding. "You're coming with us."
As if on cue, a scream echoed from the edge of the village, a sound of pure terror, raw and piercing, it came from the direction of the woods.
Sebastian moved without a word, his boots pounding against the muddy ground. Dandelion and Zoltan followed close behind, their hearts pounding in their chests.
They reached the edge of the woods, where a man lay crumpled on the ground, his body broken, his face frozen in a mask of horror. He was one of the villagers, a young man, barely more than a boy, his clothes torn, his hands clawing at the earth as if he had tried to crawl away from something.
Sebastian knelt beside him, but there was nothing to check, the boy was torn apart, dead.
"Be careful and stay close to me." Sebastian said calmly.
/-\
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