RIVIA -
The night had settled over Rivia, its darkness pierced by the distant glow of torches and the pale light of the moon that hung low over the city. The palace was quiet, its corridors empty, its halls silent save for the occasional footfall of a passing guard. The feast had ended hours ago, and the kings and queens of the North had retired to their chambers, their minds heavy with the weight of the summit that would begin at dawn.
Sebastian lay in his bed, his sword resting in his hand. His breathing was steady, his body still, but his mind was far from peaceful. The strange feeling that had plagued him since Mahakam had not faded, it had only grown stronger, a whisper in the back of his mind that refused to be silenced, a splinter beneath his skin that he could not remove.
And then the dream came.
He stood in a world of frost and shadow, his breath misting in the air, his body wracked with shivers that he could not control. The ground beneath his feet was covered in ice, its surface cracked and jagged, stretching into a horizon that seemed to go on forever. The sky was a pale, sickly grey, and the wind howled like the cries of the damned.
"Where am I?" Sebastian's voice was barely a whisper, his words trembling with cold. He looked down at his hands, at the way they shook, at the frost that was beginning to form on his fingers. "What's going on?"
He tried to summon his flames, but nothing happened. His power, the one thing that had always been there, was gone. He was alone, powerless, trapped in a world that wanted to freeze him to death.
"Fuck," he muttered, "What is this?"
Then he saw them.
Shadows in the mist, moving with a speed that sent a chill down his spine. Wraiths on skeletal horses, their forms barely visible through the frost, their eyes burning with a cold, malevolent blue light. Ice hounds stalked beside them, their jaws dripping with frost, their growls echoing through the frozen silence.
Sebastian drew his sword, but the blade shattered in his hand, its fragments scattering across the ice. He stared at the hilt, his mind racing, his heart pounding.
"Fuck!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the void.
A rider approached, his staff held high, another one aprroached and grabbed Seb's hand. "The girl will die," the rider said, his words echoing through the frost, "and you will all follow suit Vatt'ghern."
Sebastian woke with a start, his sword in his hand, his body drenched in sweat. He swung wildly, his eyes searching the darkness for the threat that was not there. The room was still, the only sounds the soft breathing of his companions.
Dandelion slept peacefully, his lute cradled in his arms like a child. Zoltan lay sprawled on his bed, a bottle of vodka still clutched in his hand, his snoring a steady rumble.
Sebastian sat up, his heart still pounding, his mind still reeling. He took the bottle from Zoltan's hand and drank deeply, the burn of the alcohol grounding him, pulling him back to reality.
He rose from his bed and walked out of the chamber, his bare feet silent against the cold stone. He made his way through the winding corridors of the palace, his steps carrying him to a distant balcony that overlooked the city.
The view was breathtaking. Rivia spread out before him, its streets quiet, its buildings dark, its walls patrolled by soldiers on duty. The moon hung low over the distant mountains, its light casting silver shadows across the rooftops.
Sebastian leaned against the railing, his eyes fixed on the horizon. His mind churned with the fragments of his dream, the images refusing to fade.
"What was that nightmare?" he said to himself, his voice low and troubled. "I want to think nothing of it, but something is eating me inside. The strange feeling never left me... not even knowing about Leo Bonhart was enough to ease it. He killed my friends, and I will kill him for that. But now I'm dreaming about the Hunt too.."
He paused, his jaw tightening. "The staff wielder and the one that grabbed me... that was definitely Eredin and Caranthir. My only advantage is that I know about them, but I know nothing about their location or current intentions. They are a distant threat, for now."
He looked down at his hand, summoning a small flame that danced across his palm. Its warmth was a comfort, a reminder that his power was still his own.
"At least my flames are working," he said, a faint smile appearing on his face.
Then he heard footsteps.
He turned, his hand moving instinctively to his sword. Two figures emerged from the shadows of the corridor, their silhouettes outlined by the dim light of the torches.
Triss was one of them. The other was a woman he did not recognize, tall, elegant, beautiful, She had dark eyes and long dark hair. She wore the robes of a mage, and there was an air of confidence.
"Good, he is awake," the woman said. "Perfect time for a chat."
Triss stepped forward, "Sebastian, this is Sabrina Glevissig. She is a sorceress from the court of King Henselt of Kaedwen. She has been wanting to meet you."
Sebastian inclined his head, in respectful greeting. "Lady Glevissig. I am honored."
Sabrina's smile was thin, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "My, the School of the Wolf has started teaching manners to their young witchers? I am impressed."
Sebastian's voice carried no hint of offense. "Not really. We do not have any sort of teaching methods for that. And there are no young witchers, only myself."
Sabrina laughed. "I was only jesting. It is rare to find a witcher who knows how to speak to a lady without grunting or scowling."
Triss gently warned her friend. "Stop tormenting the man, Sabrina. He has had a long day."
Sabrina's smile widened. "I have not started yet, Triss. Give me a moment."
The balcony offered a sweeping view of Rivia, but the tension that had settled between the three figures was far more compelling than any view.
Sabrina Glevissig's eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence. She studied Sebastian with an intensity that seemed to peel back layers. "Something happened in Ard Carraigh months ago," Sabrina said, her words measured and deliberate. "A count by the name of Wilfrid took his life there. He was an asset to King Henselt himself, a valuable one, with connections that stretched across the realm. He died after two witchers took a contract to solve an issue with his wife, and he ended up dead." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "Only later did I learn that it was witchers from Kaer Morhen. Naturally, it was not far from the place, so I assumed it was Geralt. But reports from the guards of the count's estate said that it was a young, dark-haired witcher alongside an old one. So it grabbed my attention."
Triss was surprised. "You took it?"
Sebastian's expression remained unreadable. "Yeah, I took that contract. Felt sorry for the count, honestly. Wish I could have prevented his death, but he chose his own path. He made his choice, and I could not save him from himself. he killed his wife and himself after we left, it was a complicated curse." He paused, his eyes meeting Sabrina's. "Was he someone important to you?"
Sabrina laughed, a sharp, dismissive sound that carried no warmth. "Oh, gods no. I do not care much about him, really. He was a pawn, like so many others in this game of politics. His death was unfortunate, but it was not a loss I mourned."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a more intimate register. "I just wanted to see this dark-haired witcher. And when I saw you today with Triss, I thought she had found herself one." She shot Triss a knowing glance, her smile widening. "Only then did I realize you are one of Foltest's men, so I think there is a chance yet."
Triss narrowed her eyes. "Wait, are you trying to..."
Sabrina moved closer, her hand reaching out to grasp Sebastian's. Her voice carried a note of playful invitation. "So why don't you come with me now? We could have a far more interesting conversation away from all this political posturing."
Triss protested. "Sabrina, this is not what you said you would.."
Sebastian removed his hand with a firm but polite motion. "I will have to decline that offer, Sabrina Glevissig. I am not interested in whatever game you are playing."
Sabrina's smile did not waver. She studied him for a moment. "Oh, that was only a test. So you two are really entangled, then."
Triss's voice carried a note of exasperation. "Damn it, Sabrina! So this was your real idea all along!"
Sebastian cut her off, "No. The one I am entangled with is someone else, someone you shouldn't concern yourself with."
Sabrina's expression shifted, genuine surprise crossing her features. "Oh..."
/-\
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