[ CLOSED STARTER FOR @whtisholy - YENNEFER OF VENGERBERG: POST MAGE MURDER, TALLINN ]
A MAGE IS DEAD.
never have four simple words had such an effect on the witcher. makes his blood run cold. a pain in his chest that comes from no sword, no spell, no blow from a monster. he knows many mages. has encountered magic dealers across the land, in almost every travel - from elementals, to herbologists.... summoners, transformers, time weavers, affliction givers, healers...
but the one who springs to mind - the first name to be uttered on his tongue a rare whisper, the first face to bleed into the present, still oh so vivid. is the chaos mage. vivid violet hues that he has seen hazed with lust or enraged with power. and he knows she’s here. lingering in old buildings, claiming her place - her very own seat of at the table of the high council ( it’s what she always wanted... more, greater, bigger, better... influence, capacity -- p o w e r. he has never forgotten her words, spoken under the thrall of the djinn... ‘I want everything!’ )
he still hasn’t figured out what that is. everything. had she found it? after all this time. had the council finally given her all those things she so desired? had she finally been -- sated. ( he hopes not. not sated. not tamed. )
but it’s because he knows she’s here that his boots tread cobbled streets, an incessant -- H U N T -because that is what he is good at. tracking, hunting, finding. even those things that like to evade, that wish to stay secret. an innate gift built into his form that even the powers of a mage would find hard to replicate. this is geralt being a witcher. being purely focussed, driven -- being exactly what he is. and he finds exactly what he is looking for.
or rather -- who. a sheen of midnight hair falling about slender shoulders. a form carrying itself with the presence of oh, so many years. and it has been a - long - time since their paths have crossed. somehow, always when circumstance is brutal or bloody - crashing together in the middle of battles they did not start... but always finish.
this time, it seems... is no different.
but there is - something of a relief. A MAGE IS DEAD. but not her. he finds it hard to be sorry for the loss of the other when he finds that she lives.
and she’s probably doing something - important. frankly, he doesn’t care.
and if anyone knew the witcher, they might be surprised when the word is uttered. in that deep, gravel bitten voice - but somehow, this time... it’s soft.
just one word. her name.
“yenn.”