The class stepped through Tissaia's created portal and arrived in a vast and empty valley. No tree stood tall and no house or ruin was in sight. It was quiet. Calm. But not in an unsettling way. It was as though time passed differently here... sluggish yet all knowing.
Tissaia de Vries stepped up to the row of mages, hands folded and eyes sharp,
"This place has been Aretuza's training ground for centuries... and centuries to come. Here, you will earn your right to ascend. You will be tested on every form of Chaos. Some tasks will require preparation, others will require your quick thinking and resourcefulness for us to see how you'll hold yourself in stressful situations. Back at Aretuza, you will be put in mock situations, both of high risk and foolish matters, where your knowledge of courtly intrigues and communication will be judged."
Tissaia walked down the group of mages, which had mysteriously thinned after each evolution process,
"We have only practiced on Aretuza grounds so far, with Aretuza's energy floating around you, balancing you out. When you go out into the Continent, each place will have a different energy to them... a different blockage, a different weight in the air." Her dress blew against her legs when a gust of wind travelled through the valley, "Close your eyes. Feel the difference of this place. What does it do to your Chaos? What does it do to you?"
Yennefer closed her eyes, trying to focus on what her Chaos was telling her, when a melody gently entered her head-- The Moonlight's Maiden. It was unmistakable. Its soft lull sounded as though the melody was carried by boat on the calm waters of the Brightbeak river. It was the same melody that the bard had played at the banquet the night before, and the one she'd heard you hum later during your walk back to your dormitories. She didn't know why it came to her now. Or at all. But it brought her back to the night before. To your hair shining in the moonlight as you walked across the Quad a few steps in front of her, breath still smelling of mulled wine and the smoky smell of the fire in the hearth clinging to your hair and clothes.
"Focus, Yen."
She peeked an eye open and looked to her left. It was your voice that had softly reprimanded her through telepathic link. You stood ever so graceful, your face relaxed and calm and your eyes closed. There was no sign displaying your lack of attention to Tissaia's task-- you looked as concentrated and confident as ever. Only Yennefer knew you weren't.
"I'm serious," Your voice echoed through her mind again, "It's distracting me."
"Oh, am I distracting you?" She sent back, a pleased grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. The only answer she received was one in the form of a hard but playful nudge to her side.
She closed her eye again, a content smile on her lips as she realised you were still so attuned to each other, that daily shared thoughts and inside jokes through your telepathic bond had become the new norm. Much to your classmates chagrin.
Tissaia's voice echoed across the field while she moved around, centring both your thoughts back to the task,
"Now, imagine yourself standing at the centre of this valley, with your feet planted firmly to the ground. Feel the roots beneath them go as deep as the deepest layers in the earth. You're steady. You're capable. You're in control."
Her voice sounded from right in front of you as she spoke.
"Feel how the area around you reacts to you. How you control the breeze that flows through the bushes... how you can make the leaves dance in even the highest trees. You feel them. You hear their bark cracking...the birds singing their song on their branches. And listen--do you sense the animals that are hiding in the tall grass? Do you hear their beating hearts? Do you feel the blood pumping through their veins?"
Somewhere behind you, you could feel a new energy pop up. Small. Pure. Fleeting. Then, you could feel the slow hum of something large and ancient to your far right. It did not have a beating heart. But it had life. A large tree, perhaps.
You let your Chaos wander and explore, its tendrils moving all around you like an intricate web of sensations, only for your focus to fall back on your Rectoress when her voice cut through the calm,
"Are you perfectly attuned to your surroundings?"
Wind tickled your fingertips as it danced through your fingers. The early spring air nipped at your nose, but you weren't cold. No, your Chaos fizzled beneath your skin, kept your heart beating swiftly and rapidly with each sensation it could sense. The sound of a fish rising to the surface in a nearby river, the way the wind clipped when an eagle lounged itself down and into that same river. The feeling of the earth beneath you, of the thousand of tree roots nestled and entangled within it. And the slow cadence of Yennefer's breathing beside you. In. Out. In. Out. There was reassurance in the air you could feel returning to her lungs with every breath she took. Alive. Breathing. Safe and sound.
Tissaia's voice broke the spell,
"Now let us begin."
Outings to various abandoned places around the Continent for one of your private teachings with Tissaia hadn't been scarce as of late. With your power expanding, and thus the need to control it, so were the boundaries of your Chaos. Chaos continued to ask more of you each time you conquered it. Not out of spite or frustration, but out of admiration and an obsessive need to taste more of that calm confidence that it started to bring along.
Today should have been no different, except that it was. You felt it the second the two of you walked through the portal Tissaia had conjured, arriving at the top of a tiny hill with a large willow tree casting its shadow over the two of you like an ominous foreboding.
You knew this tree, would recognise it even in three hundred years time. You'd spent summers hiding behind the curtain of its long and narrow vine-like leaves when the sun became too hot or you needed a moment to yourself.
Tissaia examined you closely, having a feel at your Chaos which, surprisingly, stayed calm, despite the obvious surprise. You knew why she hadn't said a thing beforehand. A warning would have given you insight. Insight would have given control, which was the exact thing you were trying to train by putting yourself in various uncontrollable situations. Out in the Continent, you'd sooner find yourself faced with conundrums instead of predictabilities. Further more, if life was predictable, then mages would be deemed useless.
The golden afternoon sun made the grass look even brighter, and the plethora of daisies, poppies and dandelions made for a festive decoration to the green field. The distant sound of water traveling down from the hills echoed across the land. It wasn't at all like how it had been the last time you'd breathed this air. It had been autumn back then. Wet and muddy. Grey and dark. But still comforting in its familiarity.
"Is this all right for you?" Tissaia stepped up, watching as you closed your eyes to breathe in the spring air and let the sun warm your face.
You knew what she meant-- Had this been a step too far?
And-- Are you ready for the next one?
"Can we..." You stopped yourself, trailing off, thinking of all the classes you'd had where you'd learned to hold yourself with more confidence at court. Because asking for something equalled insecurity. Stating was what equalled confidence... and respect.
So, you tried again.
"I want to stay here. Just for a little while." Not feeling entirely great about besting your rectoress and the woman who'd helped pull you out of the depths, you couldn't help but still sneak in a softly mumbled, "If that's okay."
Tissaia grinned, realising exactly what you'd done, but admiring that you thought of her highly enough that it felt wrong to assert dominance over her.
"We can, sweet girl." She watched with a kind of fondness in her eyes equal to that of a relative as you sat down in the grass, letting the long willow tree leaves tickle your neck with each breeze.
This field was half an hour's walk away from your village. It was the place you often visited with your siblings to climb in trees or swim in the lake or make bouquets from wildflowers to gift to your mother.
You let yourself fall backwards into the grass, gaze travelling to the top of the tree that let no sunlight break through. Tissaia could hear the memory unfold in your mind.
And she saw it, too. She saw a much younger you running around, bright-eyed and missing a tooth. Joy in your step and in your laugh. No idea of the horrors that would once find you. The vision warmed something in her, something she knew she should reject . Still, she watched as the memories unfolded before you.
Children squealed and laughed. A dog barked. A warm summer breeze offered only the slightest bit of cool. A wet patch on your cheek of a dog's snout and the distant memory of holding a younger sibling atop your hip. The feeling of bark brushing against your palms. The thrill of climbing up and looking down. Scraped knees and a kiss that would help it heal faster.
In a moment of weakness, Tissaia sat down beside you, watching you while you remained still.
"Do you know why I brought you here?"
Like everything with Tissaia, you suspected her question was yet another challenge to figure out your train of thoughts.
"You brought me here to see if and how I would react in the face of confrontation."
Tissaia pursed her lips and looked at the view of the meadow in front of her.
"The rectoress in me, your mentor, took you here with that intention in mind, yes." The wind blew through your hair, but the locks in Tissaia's tight bun didn't dare move, "The... other side of me took you here to heal, to experience a piece of home that wasn't tainted, to remind you that the person that got shaped by this place and the memories here..." She trailed off, which rarely happened. You pushed yourself up on your elbows to look at her. She started over, "That other side of me needs you to know that who you are in here,-" She tapped your chest twice, "-will never change."
"And what other side of you is that?"
This time, Tissaia didn't hesitate, "The side that wants you to succeed in life, that wants you to have a heart so full and a soul so content that it radiates off you everywhere you go. And a Chaos that is one and the same with your entire being so that you can use it to help make this world a brighter place, like you've been meant to since the day you were born."
You pulled a leaf out of your hair when the wind got it stuck, "I think I prefer that side better."
Tissaia sensed the playful hint in your eyes and voice, and a breathy and elegant chuckle left her, "I think I do, too." She glanced your way, heard your words before they flowed out of your mouth--
"Thank you."
A deep breath filled your lungs, "For taking me here. And for taking me away from here all that time ago. It wasn't what I wanted, but it was what I needed."
A cluster of geese flew overhead, filling the momentary silence that followed. Your mentor remained silent and it caused you to continue to let your thoughts spill out.
"You looked out for me the second you found me, even if it took me so long to realise."
Tissaia dipped her head, the slight wobble of her chin betraying the true feelings that she tried to bury beneath her unreadable expression. But this was you-- the mage she'd taken under her wing, who she had been guiding through private lessons and had started to care for like you were her kin. And you might as well have been, with that determination and fire with which you'd ploughed through every challenge and blockage, both mental and magical, all while never forgetting the heart and kindness that fuelled your every decision. Sometimes she envied you for it, for not forgetting the purity of the heart you were born with. For not having the same responsibilities, for not having to make choices that would haunt her until the day she died. Being a rectoress of a place like Aretuza had challenged her in many ways since the very first day, often making her risk losing the soft touch beneath her harsh and sullen exterior. But once a student melted something within her, which happened rarely seeing as she always did her best not to form attachments, she would secretly hold them near to her heart all throughout her very long life. And while you hadn't been in hers as long as some of her other acquaintances, she knew with how you'd snuck your way past her frosted walls, that you would be among that short lists of friends sooner rather than later. Once you ascended and got sent to your place somewhere in the Continent to help keep the balance, she would see you as a trustworthy, capable and loyal ally. And Aretuza needed all the allies it could get if her gut feeling was right.
One of her leather-gloved hands found yours. She squeezed, then remained to hold onto tightly, as if she needed to be tethered to you for a little longer so she would not lose herself to the guilt that was already eating her up from the inside.
That gesture said more than any words could have said, but she opened her mouth nonetheless.
"I am proud of you, Y/N."
A sound born from surprise and something embarrassingly sheepish left you.
"You've conquered the highest mountains of your mind, battled inner-demons and faced your biggest fear, all while letting yourself become familiar with the essence of your true self." She let that sink in for a beat, "I have seen the limitations of your Chaos, felt its power and its potential, so I know that my words of pride aren't unmerited. You will come to brave things you won't even be able to fathom, and you will brave them like you have done the rest-- with a stubborn determination fuelled by your kind heart and need for justice."
A harsh gust of wind made the fabrics of your clothes flutter against your frame. The tall grass wooshed and whistled in the breeze.
"You once told me you were afraid to lose the side of you before Aretuza, that you were struggling to find that balance. I remember it held you back gravely in your progress."
You looked her way, seeing her inspecting eyes already on you. You had a faint feeling that it had everything to do with the reason she'd brought you here. And as you continued to look at her, and her eyes remained locked on yours, she nodded and smiled softly at the questions in your mind.
"You're ready."
Tissaia shook her head the second she saw you wanting to question her statement.
"You are. When it comes to your Chaos, you've been ready for far longer than you have realised, but now you're finally ready to face that last fear." Her other hand went to grab yours, squeezing in comfort, "Fire is the most difficult element to control. It has a will of its own. It rarely listens and is hard to dominate, which is why it is an element of magic so scarcely honed by mages... why it is so frowned upon, seeing as it rarely goes right. But you-" She squeezed, "You battled the surprise conduit of your fire without succumbing to it during your first touch with Chaos."
She waited to see if the mention of that night made you stumble, but aside from your pulse quickening and your mind growing hazy for the shortest moment, you managed to keep your Chaos calm and at bay.
"You have learned to make fire your friend instead of your enemy. Because of that, any other type of magic comes to you like a safe and common face. Where others will have to face trials regarding their Chaos as a task to garner approval for their Ascension, you won't. Not entirely. You have already conquered the biggest trial there is... to you, at least. You know you can control your Chaos. You know you can control your fire. When you're grounded, that is." She pursed her lips, "Your biggest challenge... lies in confrontation with your past."
You stared off into the distance, letting your thoughts mingle with the sounds of nature around you, "You want to see me control my Chaos during the ultimate confrontation?"
Tissaia slowly closed her eyes in confirmation, "Do not mistake me- I know you have what it takes to control it when it is confronted, but we both know why this confrontation will be different. If you can keep your ground through whatever I will make you face within a moment, then I can send you out into the Continent with a clear conscience, knowing you've conquered it all. Then I will see to it that you will ascend. I'll make sure you can continue to live your life under the safety of the Brotherhood." She took a deep breath, "Under my safety. As I promised I would."
"You really think I'm ready?"
Her answer came in the form of a buzzing and shimmering transportation hoop which took shape right in front of you. What appeared through the sheen was unsurprising, yet just as painful and staggering as if it had come as a shocking surprise. It looked different than when it had appeared that night with Yennefer. Less trees. Emptier. Its exit probably directed towards to the South side of the village.
She held out her arm, gesturing for you to step through, the time for counting daisies in the grass long passed. You rubbed your face and squeezed your eyes shut. You hadn't been back since you'd ruined it. The village that had been your home since your birth, the people who had seen you grow up, and even the ancient trees that had watched you run and play in their forest. In the aftermath of your conduit moment, all you'd seen was destruction. You barely remembered anything other than how it had rained ashes, how your fire had swallowed heaps of men, and how houses had still been sputtering and groaning when Tissaia had ushered you away.
But there was no better moment. No second chance. This was going to be it. It had to be. And maybe some part of you, hidden behind the guilt and pain and regret, felt ready.
You stepped through with those thoughts, and only dared to open your eyes a good ten seconds after you'd heard Tissaia appear behind you. The portal disappeared in a swift swoosh, leaving a silence so deadly it could kill. Her firm hold on your tensed shoulders shook you out of the safe place you'd created in the darkness of your closed eyes. Tissaia's warm words still lingered beneath your chest, fuelling your confidence, but it was clear that she was back to being your mentor now.
This was the time to prove yourself.
But, something held you back.
With your eyes still closed, you spoke as quietly as you could muster, too afraid that if she heard and answered truthfully, you'd regret ever asking in the first place, "What happens when I fail?"
Because what if you did fail? What if flames as high as the Tower of the Gull would sputter out of your fingertips the second you saw the earth where your house had once stood? What if you made short work of the last few trees left standing the second you heard the ghosts of your siblings scream in pain? Would Tissaia hold her end of the bargain, or would you disappear like some of your classmates who had failed to show up merely days after making big mistakes or failing significant evaluations? And, Saints forbid, what would happen if you got so out of control, you ended up harming Tissaia de Vries? How would one explain that tragedy to the Brotherhood, if she even survived the fiery flames?
"Open your eyes."
You shook your head, vehemently, "What happens?"
You felt her stand behind you, probably overlooking the space in front of you, the space that had once been so vivid and lively and humming with joy, but was now a dark and blurry memory in your mind.
"Then you will try again. Until you succeed."
A hot and searing discomfort hit you the second she pressed a finger between your brows and the crown of your head. It felt like a hand had reached in and was rummaging through your brain. You gasped and groaned. You wanted to reach for your head, but you were trapped. All control over your body was gone. Flashes of memories flitted through your retina in a high chase. Sounds and smells hit you from all sides. Horses screamed or ran away in a failed attempt to put out the fire dancing on their backs. Men in steel slashed through the screaming children of your neighbours, coating the mud and grass with a deep red. The gnarly scent of death followed. Of iron. Of gut.
Fear tore at every muscle in your body, making you freeze even though your heart was pumping the fastest it had ever done.
You heard your father's plea again, to all hide in the cellar behind the cabbages and carrots. The same dread and panic you'd felt when you realised you were all trapped like mice, resurfaced. You saw the door to your home open as fast as you remembered. Men clad in heavy armour waltzed in, grabbed your mother and punctured her abdomen with one of their blades. Then their eyes fell on you and your siblings.
Your vision went black, just like it had back then.
But this time you recognised the feeling that made your breath quicken, that made your ears pop and your chest prickle.
A loud bang. Heat. Flames as high as the ceiling. There was a new type of fear now-- the fear of fighting not one but two adversaries, both elemental and human. You could not run from the flames with those men blocking the only way out, even if they were distracted by the fire spluttering out of your hands.
Before long, the flames had engulfed the entirety of the inside of the small wooden hut. A beam in the ceiling cracked and fell before your feet, crushing your father and trapping him beneath it, making him an easy prey for one of the armed men. But another beam soon fell, pinning them down to the ground alongside your father.
An opening-- the door to the outside. But running out would mean abandoning your father and your mother still writhing in pain on the ground.
Flames now started to crawl closer to them. The fear in their eyes as they watched the trail of the flames lead back to you would have dropped you to your knees if Tissaia's touch hadn't trapped you in your body.
You felt the cracking of your heart in that split second your survival instincts had taken over. You saw through your eyes again how you'd ushered your siblings outside, their eyes wide and fearful as they watched you with your fire before they ran outside, only for one of them to be snatched away the second they did. Not wanting to go without a fight, you jumped forward, fists clanging against armour but leaving blood marks instead of dents. The butt end of a sword stalled you and made you fall to the ground the second you were hit with it against your chest. The dull pain punctured you through your ribs, squeezing the air out of you. And all you could do, with an open mouth heaving for breaths, was watch how your siblings screamed for your help.
All around you, people were being slaughtered, maimed and cornered.
Something shifted, as though the shake to your chest had awoken something within you and finally given it the permission it needed to unleash itself. It felt as if you were floating outside your own body. Gravity was gone and, for a split second, time stopped ticking.
A loud bang sounded. One second later, sweat dripped off your forehead. Through your closed eyes you'd seen a light so bright, it had felt as though the sun was right in front of you. When you opened them, all you saw were flames. Everything was burning, from the farthest house near the edge of the forest, to the houses closest to the river. People further away ran screaming, with flames melting their skin as they did. A father clutched their child to their chest, before he fell and succumbed to his injuries.
Tissaia made you relive it all over again.
You felt her fingers press a little harder, her hand digging a little deeper, as the next set of memories came to you.
Closer to you, there was only stillness. And ash. And horror. Clouds of steam trickled up from the wet soil and puffs of smoke from the still smouldering spots. Burnt debris of the aftermath was sizzling and crackling. Looking down at your trembling hands, you stumbled back and landed in a scorched corpse that turned to dust on impact. White hot flames danced and floated around your arms and hands like moths to lanterns. Only they didn't hurt you. Not really. Until they started to. And they really started to.
Your arms were filled with muck and ash, but you were alive. And you were the only one. That only made the flames hurt worse. The more you shook your arms in an attempt to still the fire, the bigger the flames started to grow. A helpless and terrified scream left you, one that you heard yourself imitate in real life. One you were sure had made Tissaia flinch. It shook you to your core, as it had done that first time. You moaned and groaned, wanting desperately to be pulled back to reality instead of staying with the terrors of your mind.
Then, Tissaia stepped back. With a force that took your breath away, you regained consciousness over your body and were thrown back to the here and now. You finally opened your eyes for the first time after stepping through the portal. You fell to the ground, only seeing your hands that had dulled your fall. With a heaving breath, you sat hunched over. Your hands hurt worse than they ever had, and even the old wounds and scars that had been mostly mended with tonics and spells, ached again like they had never left. And you knew they hadn't. They were still slightly visible, barely healed over, concealed by magic. And the ones that were still visible would stay that way even until after your ascension. If you even got that far. Because right now, with this much agony, fury and pain tearing through you again, you feared what would happen next.
Terrible memories you had buried away very deeply, which had become foreign and almost unrecognisable, had resurfaced. And Tissaia had dug far enough until she had been able to unearth them. You knew your reunion with your home wouldn't be sweet and cosy, but she had confronted you with your past and your deeds in a way that could very well prove to be the end of you.
Your fingertips were already starting to itch and pulsate, and it took all your willpower to stop your Chaos from taking over. It was snarling and trying to bite through its leash. You couldn't subdue it, no matter what you told it, no matter the play of power with which you tried to win it over. But it wasn't trying to break free because you gave it an opening. It was trying to cry out in pain with you. Because it was a shared pain, because your Chaos was you and you were your Chaos. Which could only mean that you couldn't subdue it... because you didn't want to.
"Own your Chaos, you are it," Tissaia started, her voice sounding both right beside you and in another world entirely. She tried to drag you up in a seated position by your armpits, but struggled as you thwarted her attempts.
"You are a child of Chaos. Chaos chose you, but it lives like a guest in your being. It is nothing without you. Like how a life cannot be lived without a beating heart. It is but a whisper in the wind without a strong and powerful vessel to latch-"
"Let me be!" Your booming voice echoed across the empty field as you yelled at your rectoress like a caged animal, much like you'd done the first time she'd found you in this exact place.
You slapped your hands onto ground, where could feel tiny flickering flames escaping your palms, warming the earth beneath your touch. They disappeared as soon as you felt the slightest bit of domination over your Chaos, over your own emotions. The ground was shaking beneath your hands though, and a patch of black and scorched earth had replaced lush green grass. You would not lose control. You would not return to the place that had last seen you as a monster, only to show the ghosts of your family that nothing had changed, and you were still the horrible demon who hadn't even learned enough from the destruction you'd caused the first time around to not do it all over again.
You were a changed person. You vowed to never again get to a point where your Chaos would take so many lives.
Never again, never again, never again.
"Y/N, you mustn't-"
"Shut up!" You heaved, tears flowing freely. Your mouth was set in a grimace when you tasted the saltiness on the curve of your lips. Each tear tasted and felt like failure. Like regret. Like sorrow. Like an aching grief.
Tissaia looked at your shivering form, hunched over on the ground, looking even smaller as the day she'd found you. Your Chaos was loud, even to her. Its high pitch was deafening to her ears and its restlessness wrestled with her own Chaos, desperate to latch onto something or someone that would let it soar. But it couldn't, because you didn't want to hurt her. Soon, she felt it get roped back in and sensed the shield appear around you. Your Chaos, that part of you that was furious, bounced against its cage, but you didn't set it free.
You succeeded. She knew you would.
Only halfway there.
Tissaia cleared her throat, feeling shaken. Despite having suspected some sort of reaction from you, she hadn't expected that the betrayal of unearthing your deepest terrors would shake her so wildly. You were a novice. She was your mentor. This was part of your teachings. She knew she'd had to. If not now, then when? When you were surrounded by the council of your Kingdom and a throwaway comment about a village being set ablaze would make you travel back to your darkest moment and make you set the castle on fire? This wide, open field of nothingness, the place that had started it all, had been the best place to do it. There was no deeper or darker place to succumb to. No challenge greater than this one. And now, she needed you to do it again.
"Y/N, stand up. Now."
But you couldn't. Didn't want to. Because you had yet to look up and let your eyes take in your surroundings, to see all that had changed- and not for the better.
"Then we will try again later when-" Tissaia swallowed back her words when you pushed yourself up.
One leg. Then the other. Shoulders still hunched in unease and pain, but standing nonetheless.
Tissaia breathed in deeply, nodded to give herself some foolish comfort. She had to remind herself you were just a novice. She had to treat you like any other. This did nothing to her. She would not hold back, either. You needed to face this harsh reality to get better.
She watched how your eyes were glued shut but couldn't let it soften her, "Look."
Your chin rose in undefeated defiance, but your eyes remained close. You knew you had to open them. If not now, then another time. But when? You weren't sure you'd even survive going through the this again. Furthermore... there would not be another time if you opened them now.
Vile words were ready and waiting in the back of your throat, all aimed towards your rectoress. You knew she'd confront you somehow, knew she'd shock you in a way you'd least expect for the trial, but never like this. Never this... real. Whatever she'd done the second she'd touched you, had sent you barreling to the past. It had made your head feel like it was going to erupt like a festering cyst. But the physical unease was nothing compared to the torture your heart had just gone through.
"If you can't open your eyes to look, then open them to look at me." Her soft voice now sounded from right in front of you. It shook in pleading guilt and badly hidden trepidation.
You clenched your jaw the second you heard it.
Tissaia was well aware how badly she was sabotaging the entire test by putting herself between you and your confrontation. She wouldn't be around to hold your hand the second you ascended. Wouldn't be there to guide you or shield you from the brunt of things. But she'd clearly miscalculated things. Gravely. She'd been so occupied worrying about how the biggest concern were your flames getting unleashed upon confrontation, that she had eliminated the possibility of breaking your spirit. But she'd always led her teachings more with her head than her heart or conscience. Right now, she regretted that with all her might.
Tissaia's eyes widened in concern when you cowered at her touch.
"Y/N, breathe through the-"
"Stop." You ushered, pleaded, feeling the control you held slip away each time she broke your concentration. Her interruptions were setting you up for failure, and you didn't know why she was suddenly changing her tactic.
Tissaia took a couple of steps back. Out of respect. Not out of danger. Because while she had taken into account the real possibility of another fiery display, there were zero flames to be seen. Her gloves didn't sizzle and melt like that very first time. Beads of sweat didn't trickle down her face while standing close to you. And, most surprising of all, she could feel your Chaos start to lose its fervour. Your energy was calming.
It was not something that had just happened, from one day to the other. It was something you'd trained.
Comfort. Safety. Reassurance. That was what could calm you.
So, the vision of your mother came rushing in. Her open arms. Her warm eyes void of fear, shock, pain or judgement. Her familiar voice and her motherly touch as she brushed the tears from your cheeks, muttering gentle praises over and over again. This wasn't real. You knew it wasn't. But it felt real. And that was all that mattered.
Still, you had to be sure.
You opened your eyes without a second thought, but the air got punched out of your lungs when the space in front of you was empty. There was no warm smile meeting you. No open arms waiting.
The first thing you saw was the tree line. It was clear by the black scarring left behind, that a rope of fire had slashed away at the bark in a long diagonal line, almost as if something had exploded against them. A few of the trees in direct line of sight had not survived-- their slow decay and rot a clear sign.
Then you dared to look around. Carefully. Through your periphery at first. Then your head moved, too.
Here and there, half charred remnants of wood laid in the ground like fossils of the houses that had once been there. The field around it... well, it looked surprisingly green again. Weeds carpeted the ground where ash had once coated it.
Tissaia watched you carefully for any sign that things would tip over, especially when you turned your head.
Your eyes softened but your jaw tightened. Only the surface of foundation beams still barely sticking out of the ground signalled that there had once been a house there. Your house.
A small, defeated sound croaked out of your throat before Tissaia jumped in surprise at the portal you conjured. You got up to your feet so fast, it made your head spin. Then, you stepped through and sealed the hoop shut, leaving Tissaia de Vries behind.
The low and loud buzzing of the portal made your head feel like it could implode, and as soon as you fell on your knees in a wet patch of mud, you heard the familiar sizzle fade away. Right after, your entire supper came back up and out of your mouth. You could barely tell what was up or down the way the world was spinning, and when you opened your eyes to take in your surroundings, you saw double.
You tried to get on your feet, stumbling like a toddler taking their first steps, paying no further mind to your bearings aside from the shed next to the lonely house among the trees. You stumbled toward it and heaved as you dropped onto a crate. Your head still hurt, your eyes were still blurry. Meanwhile, the soft patter of rain that had started to fall filled the silence.
Then you heard it. It sounded distant, but a voice hummed from somewhere close. And it neared.
"Beneath the dripping crooked roof, I sang to mask my sigh, then came a damsel, drenched and lost, with rain in hair and eye."
A shadow appeared before you, then came an outstretched and helpful hand, but it dropped when you looked up in fright.
"Y/N?!"
The stranger was still blurry to you. Your head was pounding and a second wave of nausea threatened to bubble up. But this stranger recognised you. Knew your name. And his voice was eerily familiar yet distant all the same. It was clear that it had been kept on the same shelf in your mind with the other memories of your past.
Two hands gripped tightly onto your arms and tried to pull you up, but you withered, shock still clinging to your limbs from your confrontation. Besides, you still couldn't place this man.
When your eyesight finally sharpened, you tried to take him in. His form was outlined against the trees behind him and the grey downpour that had started. You inhaled sharply, and your face fell.
It was your uncle. Father's side. Timberman by trade, which was why he lived in the forest with his wife and sons. His face paled as he watched you, shivering and scared like a pig put for slaughter.
Frantically, you looked around again. You'd been here before. A thousand times. Whenever your dad would take the trek through the woods to exchange goods, you'd be in the back of the cart with a sibling or two, along for the ride.
"We thought you... You were all... The fire... the massacre-" His eyes were wide and looked you up and down, only to realise you were perfectly fine. You were alive. "Everything was gone! Your house, the entire village!? There were rumours about survivors. I searched other villages for weeks! How did you- What are you doing here?"
Before you could protest, he discarded his walking cane, helped you up and barrelled through the door with you. He pulled your frozen body inside, sat you down in front of the fireplace, threw a shawl around you and pushed a cup in your hands. It was warm. Should've been comforting. But it hurt the phantom burns on your hands. This was the second confrontation in a short time, and it appeared too much for you when the water inside your cup started to bubble and the window shutters started to shake.
Even after your ascension, you stay at Aretuza until no one able to recognise you is left alive. I cannot risk anyone even suspecting you survived that fire. Nor that you are a mage. Because when they do, there's only one plausible explanation as to why you're still alive.
Tissaia's voice clung to you like an eerie threat and promise in one. Then you realised, with your heart sinking to your gut, that you wouldn't have to wait that long to outlive anyone if your uncontrolled emotions ended your uncle's life before time would.
Quickly, you set the cup down beside you, then made way for the door again when the dancing flames in the hearth started to hypnotise you.
"Where are you going?!" Your uncle asked.
His question stumped you. You couldn't say you were going home. You couldn't tell him the truth either.
Before you could come up with a solid lie, his question got stacked with plenty more, "How did you even get here? Where have you been all this time? Why didn't you come sooner? How did you survive?"
You ignored them all, "Where are the others?" You cracked, hoping to avert his attention. Your question didn't come out of nowhere. You did wonder. Because where were they? Usually, they'd be around. And if they weren't, then at least you could see their recent presence in the cottage in the form of half eaten plates, messy beds or the scent of lingering sweat from the hard labour.
You would have seen the drop of his expression if you'd paid attention to him. You didn't. But his refusal to answer you told you enough.
"Did anyone else make it? Beside you?" Your uncle wondered, gesturing for you to sit down again. He took a careful step closer, fearing you'd make a run for it otherwise.
Having to uphold a lie had proven to be the most difficult thing ever since your conduit moment. To not be able to trust anyone with your story, and knowing that was how it was going to have to be until your dying breath, was a lonely life. But, right now, it seemed incredibly hard to simply tell the truth. Your throat closed up so badly it hurt, mimicking the pain of barbed wire. You clenched your hands into fists and closed your eyes. With your head dropped in shame, you shook it in guilt.
"Everyone is gone."
A pained sound left his throat, though he already knew this. Still, a tiny voice had wondered. Because if you had made it, miracles must exist. Instead, you'd squandered his hope with a quick snap of your fingers and pulled him back to reality.
Just one look into his eyes, and you could see the pain. The apology on his tongue. If only he knew you were to blame for your own losses.
Then you looked again. Really looked. Behind his irises and into his mind.
You felt it. You sensed it. You saw it and you heard it.
The loneliness. The grief. The flames that had engulfed his family, too. Your flames. They had been there.
You were hit by the weight of a thousand horses galloping into you, trampling you while you remained awake. Your emotions were uncontrollable, screaming in your ear until you felt tears fall out of your eyes. Your eyes flicked to the hearth in fright, but your Chaos was... composed. Still. Like a lake on a windless summer evening. For the first time ever, it held you when you couldn't hold yourself.
I'm in it with you. We are one and the same.
You should've felt proud. This had been what Tissaia had wanted all along. And though it hadn't happened during the confrontation she'd tried to initiate, it had happened.
To realise you should feel grateful for it, put a foul taste in your mouth. You just learned there was more blood on your hands. More faces to haunt you. There was nothing to be grateful about.
Then, you felt the energy tip as his gaze turned inquisitive, worried, horrified. "Saints- Y/N, your eyes! They're bleeding!?"
A pause. A sharp intake of breath. Realisation.
You stilled. Stood glued to the ground.
Nausea resurfaced, and you felt your Chaos wobble, albeit momentarily. You were not going to add yet another death to your name. You needed to get out. Now.
"I'll come back," You promised, hurrying to open the door, "I promise I'll come back."
His face fell, defeated and confused. You made a run for it, through the door and back into the rain, knowing he couldn't follow or match your pace.
Through the trees and the brushes you ran until you could muster up the last remaining bit of your Chaos and conjure a portal back.
Only you couldn't. Your bottle was empty. Down to the last drop.
You sank to the forest floor, fatigue taking over. Sticky red coated your fingers when you wiped the bloody teardrops away.
With your heart as numb as your cold fingers, you realised you wouldn't care if you never got up again. In fact, it might even be better. For everyone. There was no one you were leaving behind. No one to miss you.
But that wasn't true. And you knew it. And, besides that, you would miss her, too.
You woke with a jolt.
Even through the density of the tree tops, you could make out the change of the sky. Time had passed and turned it dark. It had stopped raining, but your clothes still clung to your body like wet rags. Instantly, you remembered what had happened.
The weeping tree. Your village. The confrontation. Tissaia. The portal that had led you straight to a familiar house that hadn't been tainted by your doing, except for those who had lived in it. Your uncle's familiar and concerned face and the ache and primal need of being around family again. You wanted to turn back around, sit with him in his cosy home and promise him you were all right. But you couldn't lie. Not to him. Not any more than you already had. Nor look in his eyes and see the repercussions of your conduit moment each time you did. Or have him realise what you were. What you had been since the day you were born.
You slowly got up, tested the waters by opening your palms. You concentrated. Hard and fiercely.
Your Chaos was still replenishing. It still felt rattled and broken. But it had your back. It was here. It had looked after you in your slumber and given you a moment to regain some energy.
It came to you slowly, from a distant place. When it got closer and you were able to grasp it, it came quicker. Something started to fizzle and shimmer in front of you. You grunted, had to pull the power from your toes and send it shooting out of your hands before the portal appeared. You thought of safety. Of warmth. Of no longer being alone.
Then, you stepped through.
Your chest rose with laboured breaths and your hair clung to your damp forehead.
You didn't have to focus hard to hear her safe low and distant hum travel through the thick walls and corridors of Aretuza. Yennefer's Chaos was beckoning you to come closer, reaching out in a promise to still your crying soul. It was often most quiet at night, when she was asleep and at ease, though it would thrum through your eardrums whenever she was frustrated or excited. The realisation that you could hear her now, could only mean she was close. You thanked the Saints for sparing you a walk to the Tower of the Gull in your current state.
Your clothes clung to your shivering body as you stumbled through the corridors. The cold of the night and the draft that traveled through the hall nipped at your skin. You made your way to the room you'd walked to a hundred times before, where Yennefer's Chaos was like a beacon calling for you. Your hand hovered over the doorknob, ready to open it, when it creaked open for you.
A beam of firelight shone onto your face, before two violet eyes peeked at you through the creak of the door.
Yennefer was clearly surprised, the shock evident in her expression. Or, maybe surprised wasn't the right word. She'd expected you after all.
Yennefer had jumped awake the second you'd stepped onto Aretuza grounds again. She'd realised something was wrong when your usually soothing yet curious energy now neared with a heaviness so dark, that it made her get up and walk to the door the second she felt it.
"Y/N?" She croaked, and she rubbed at her eyes like an adorable infant, rubbing out the smoke of the fire. Then, as if remembering what usually happened in the middle of the night at Aretuza, and the missing girls that followed, she quickly pulled you inside her room.
She took you in, head to toe, from your shivering form, the big panicked eyes staring straight into hers, and the dried blood that had trickled down your cheeks. You hadn't changed into your sleepingwear, and the soil on your boots and the edges of your garments made it known you'd been outside. The big great outside, the outside where one could only go to on invitation or by a portal carefully curated by a teacher, or if one were to run away. The latter was impossible. Believe her, she'd tried.
You had your arms wrapped around your torso as if to imitate the comfort of a mother's embrace, but it clearly wasn't working all that well.
"What's wrong?" Yennefer was no longer sleepy, but on high alert instead. She took you in once more, this time more thoroughly. The striking resemblance she saw to one of her younger siblings waking her up in the middle of the night after a nightmare, was uncanny. But there was something far less innocent about the way your bloodshot eyes were filling with a new set of tears.
Your chin wobbled, your arms wrapped around yourself even tighter to try and replace the stinging of your burn scars with the pressure of your hold. You couldn't tell Yennefer about what had happened, not if you wanted to keep your end of the deal and be kept in Tissaia's safety. But having no one to help you through it had deemed impossible, and tonight had been the turning point.
"I'm sorry." You muttered, voice hoarse and breaking, heel already turning to go back to your room.
"No- wait. It's... it's okay." Yennefer's voice was small, inquisitive, while she watched you with a keen eye when you carefully stepped further inside her room. Something was off about you, anyone could see that. What was it, and why had you come to her?
"Are you cold?" She asked, already tugging you to the fireplace when you didn't stop shivering, but she furrowed her brows when you darted out of her grip.
You trusted your Chaos, you trusted yourself. But your bottle was still as good as empty. And if there was a tiny crack in which the flames would react to your current state, you didn't want Yennefer to stand in the line of it.
"No!" The panic with which you spoke made her stop in her tracks.
She watched as your eyes flitted away from her stare, how you were almost hunched in on yourself and having to hold yourself up.
"You're in pain." She concluded, voice as soft as a whisper.
Harsher than she'd intended, she pried your arms off you and pulled them towards her. Then, she softly pulled your fingers apart, which you'd been squeezing shut so tightly that your nails had left little shapes of crescent moons in your palms.
There was nothing to see on your hands, despite the muck coating them, but she gently wiped that off. The surface wounds and scars had been removed by tonics and the skilled hands of Aretuza's finest mages. At least the ones available to the eye. The scars on your arms, legs and torso had been gruesome and proven more difficult to remove, especially in your initial state of distress. So, Tissaia had granted you the respite of the daily prodding and pulling at your scars, promising a complete removal during your ascension. But as time had gone on, you had become less sure about wanting to remove them at all. It was a reminder of what had happened, but it was also the last version of your old self still tethered to your being, and a visual reminder to never lose yourself again. It was a promise to your family.
You swallowed through the tight pain in your throat, and closed your eyes when the soft pads of her thumbs gently brushed the hem of your sleeves upwards. You'd always made sure to cover your remaining scars with your garments, and not only because Tissaia had told you it was better to do so to prevent questioning.
However, you were letting someone see them now.
Not someone. Never just someone. Not as of late.
Yennefer.
Yennefer stilled when she saw the red and deeply scarred slashes, blotches and swirls which burns usually left behind. She watched how her touch didn't make you flinch, and dared to pull your sleeves up further to follow the trail of the marks. She stopped when she reached the middle of your upper arm, the realisation that these burns went on and on making it too painful to face the truth-- that you were indeed carrying a painful past... and that you hadn't told her about it.
Her thumbs grazed over your skin, the softness with which she handled you making your heart hurt even more.
"What happened to you?" She breathed out.
You knew the question had been on her mind for a while now. And you wanted to answer her, to tell her every single detail from beginning to end. But you couldn't. Not now, not ever. Not only because of your deal with the Rectoress of Aretuza, but also because you couldn't bear having Yennefer look at you differently when she learned what you'd done.
A quiet sob wracked through you, shy and unsure to take up space. Almost immediately after, a soaring pain tore through the heaviest burns on your stomach. You hunched over, feeling as if the burned flesh was being ripped off at the very second.
Yennefer's warm hand softly pressed against your stomach, her arm snaking around you to hold you up by your waist, but you flinched so hard that she immediately pulled away.
Resolutely, she stepped back, "I'm going to get Tissaia."
"No-" You groaned through your clenched teeth. You looked fearful, frightened like a child who'd done something horrible to upset a parent.
"Did she have anything to do with this?!" Yennefer's voice rose the second she sensed trouble.
With a wobbly voice, another lie tumbled out of you, putting yet another nail in the coffin, "N-No." You shivered.
After seeing the doubt on her face, you realised you had to sell the lie to actually convince her, "It was my... my time for a mock test. I failed."
Lie.
Though Yennefer had seen other mages fail miserably, returning green or bruised and tattered, something about the alertness in your eyes didn't feel quite the same as the shame she'd seen in theirs. But it was you. And she would always try to believe you.
Yennefer looked at you, arms falling to her sides, clearly out of her element and not knowing what to do. The tears still flowing out of your eyes made her chest ache.
"Can I-" You inhaled sharply, "-stay here? J-Just for a few hours. I don't want to face Tissaia yet."
Truth.
Yennefer pursed her lips, eyes going to the door of her chamber. There was no hiding from Tissaia. Not in Aretuza, not anywhere. She would find you if she wanted to. It didn't matter where or when she would find you. She would. Something had gone terribly wrong, and while Yennefer was still torn about the believability of your story, there wasn't a single bone in her body that wanted to let you out of her sight. Not when you were like this. Not right now, not ever.
"You can stay as long as you want." Yennefer mumbled.
She surprised both herself and you when she pulled you against her chest in a tight embrace.
It soothed your heart within a second, but tore it apart right after. Because you had lied to her. Had done so since the day you met, and would have to do so for years to come. In a feeble attempt, and while trying to push away the guilt, you clung to her to soothe those gaping wounds both physical and mental.
Yennefer exhaled a shaky breath when you buried into her chest, hands clawing at the fabric hanging loosely on her back. She let you. Let you regain your calm in her arms once she squeezed tighter, even if the foreign feeling of comfort made her skin itch.
In a way, it was strange. She'd thought of physical contact with you before. Touches that went past the occasional hand tug or shoulder pat. She'd thought of arms wrapping around her. Of hands that dared to graze her deformities. Of someone who dared to close the distance without feeling disgusted. Now she had someone that close, someone glued to her chest and clawing at her back, hunchback included. But it felt strange. Wrong. This wasn't how she'd imagined it. Because each time you clung to her closer than ever, it was when you were distraught.
Yennefer let you step out of her arms again the second she felt a shift in your energy.
"You're safe." She whispered, hands cupping your cheeks, pads of her thumbs wiping at the dried streaks of blood on your cheeks in a failed attempt to clean them, "You're safe." She repeated, gaze softening and the softest of smiles being sent your way to reassure you she wasn't lying. She had you in her sights now. You'd always be safe there.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. Because while Yennefer thought you were safe in her arms, you weren't so sure she would be in yours.
Yennefer watched you put a safe distance between the two of you, watching you wipe at your face and fixing your hair with your back towards her. As though she hadn't already seen the tears fall. Or the blood streaks, which could only mean you'd greatly exerted yourself.
Once you were feeling a little more composed, you turned. Yennefer hated how your eyes were looking at the ground instead of her violet ones.
You were still shivering. Your skin felt feverishly hot with a clammy sweat sticking to it.
No, you didn't look at her, because you didn't want to look at her while she was seeing you like this. Because she was looking at the worst version of you. Not the weak and openly vulnerable one who was clearly in distress. No, she was looking straight at the version you'd been during your conduit moment. The version full of fear. The monster, to blame for many horrible things. The version that was a murderer. And thanks to Tissaia's mind bending, that version had resurfaced. Yennefer didn't know it. She never would.
You didn't deserve the warmth or comfort she was willing to give you.
Despite looking at the ground, you saw the blanket Yennefer had pulled off her bed and held out for you, ready to wrap you in its cloaked embrace. But you stayed still. You couldn't accept such a gesture when you couldn't even tell her why you were shivering in the first place. Not because of the cold. Never because of the cold. Because of the intense heat and its aftermath.
She took a careful step closer, saw you turn away from her and sighed.
"At least let me give you a calming draught I made." Yennefer was already going through the rows of bottles in her cabinet, carefully inspecting each label, "This one's instilled with lavender and chamomile. Both healing and soothing. I brewed it for five days so it should be the most potent one out of the-"
Three harsh, booming knocks made the both of you turn to the door. Yennefer didn't miss the way you flinched and cowered again. Neither of you needed to open the door to know who was knocking-- her powerful Chaos a dead giveaway of its own.
Tissaia de Vries.
That also meant neither of you were foolish enough to think you could hide from your rectoress, because if you could sense her Chaos, she sure could sense yours.
Yennefer's gaze went from you to the door, then back to you. She stumbled closer, sleep still stuck in her limbs but mind as alert as ever since the moment you'd stepped inside. She grabbed your hand upon passing you, pulled you behind her before opening the door a smidge.
Tissaia stood on the other side in the dimly lit hallway, the light of the candelabras dancing off her features. Her hair was slightly ruffled. Or... well, a little less than perfect. Some stray strands of hair had escaped her bun and stuck to her temples. Her lip was pursed in its usual judgemental way, her chin tipped high. And though she tried to downplay the worry she was feeling, her eyes were wide in panic when she peered behind Yennefer and into the room.
"Y/N, step out."
Tissaia wasn't one for pleasantries, never had been, not even as a young mage, but the way she'd rushed through her words meant this wasn't just a regular order. This was one with haste.
In any other case, Yennefer might have folded and opened the door a little wider in fear of disappointing the woman she'd started to look up to. Not this time, not with your shivering form she could still feel closely behind her. Not after promising you could stay, after reassuring you were safe. She knew lying about your company would be in vain, for every novice awake and asleep could feel your Chaos rumbling. She did it anyway, felt it in her bones that she had to stall something that felt inevitable.
"It's the middle of the night." Yennefer narrowed her eyes again and pushed out a practiced yawn, "We were asleep."
"You were not. I came straight here the second Y/N's Chaos returned." Tissaia pushed against the door and walked in. Yennefer turned with her, shielding you from view behind her hunched back. But you'd always stood a little taller beside Yennefer. Everyone did. So Tissaia's eyes finding you almost instantly was an inevitability.
Tissaia''sfeatures softened the second she took you in-- shaking hands that clamped at your arm and stomach, shivering shoulders, trembling chin and bloody tearstained cheeks and eyes that did not dare to look at her.
She'd gone too far.
"Y/N- come." Tissaia swallowed, stopping herself from extending a hand or throwing an arm around you.
Yennefer's brows rose and she looked at you beside her through her peripheral. You didn't budge. Kept your head tilted down as your hand found the hem of Yennefer's sleeve.
Tissaia clenched her teeth together, grinding them as her gaze turned to steel.
"You are not in trouble, though we will talk about it in my office." She spoke her words with quiet but practiced grimness, hoping with all her might that you would poke through the act. Swiftly, Tissaia turned on her heel, stopped, looked your way before speaking, "Now."
You were beyond shaken and exhausted, evidently so. Taking you with her to talk about it now was cruel, even for Tissaia.
Despite not knowing what had happened, Yennefer thought as much when she stood her ground, "No."
Tissaia stopped, "No?"
Yennefer spun to you, then back to Tissaia, with pleading eyes that said-- Look at her.
"Go back to bed, Yennefer." Tissaia whirled her hand around in a circular motion, opened her fingers and blew. Dust speckled into Yennefer's face, who immediately stumbled backwards, dropped onto the bed when her legs hit the edge, and fell into a deep slumber.
You could only watch in defeat as your friend curled up on her bed. Then, a warm hand, a gentle touch, made you turn around. It was as though Tissaia had suspected the drop in your energy before your limbs had as soon as Yennefer had let you go, because your knees buckled and gave out.
Tissaia already had you in a steady hold before you could drop to the cold tiled floor. Her whispered words of both concern and regret were the last thing you heard before that same speckled dust tickled your throat and nostrils.
"Rest, sweet girl. You're safe now."
Your eyes felt swollen and itched, and your throat felt like you had breathed fire. Which, you might as well have. Surprisingly enough, that was all. No limbs ached. The cold from the rain hadn't clung to your bones throughout the night, and your head wasn't pounding from over exertion. Your Chaos was... okay. On the mend. Timid. Like floating on the soft cadence of the ocean waves.
You opened your eyes slowly. Some sunlight peeked through the curtains, softening the transition from complete darkness to light. But, this wasn't your chamber. Nor was it the infirmary you were waking up in. And the soft feel of velvet beneath your hands was foreign to you as well.
There was tapestry on the walls. Curtains of a four poster bed were half drawn as if to shield you from the world outside of it. A candelabra stood on the nightstand. Not flickering. Untouched on purpose. Next to it, some crystals laid out in what you knew to be an organised chaos, meticulously picked in order to get the best workings. In between them, an intricately decorated silver pot was smoking, and the comforting scents of lavender combined with the warm and spicy scents of clary sage engulfed you.
It was when you saw the jewellery display on one of the dressers that you knew without a doubt whose private quarter this was.
It spooked you instantly. Why was Tissaia de Vries letting yo past her walls when she'd made an effort to keep you at arm's length thus far? Sure, the nasty names had vanished, and so had the stoic looks and harsh words. But she hadn't exactly crossed any boundary to something closer before. Until now.
The door to her sleeping chamber opened and Tissaia stepped in-- carrying a silver platter which held a cup, a bowl and a vial. The latter worried you, even if it was only slightly.
"No one could see you in your state."
Straight to it, and it didn't even surprise you.
"Three of the new novices have had an accident during botany class. There was no privacy at the infirmary. And no wall or door could stop Yennefer from getting into your room." Tissaia sighed, set the platter down and threw the curtains open. The light blinded you, causing bright spots to blur your vision.
The bizarreness of waking up after a day like yesterday, in a bed that definitely wasn't your own, and of not knowing what had happened after you'd passed out, was making the panic resurface. Not wanting to slouch in front of your rectoress either, you quickly sat up against the wooden headboard. The designs of the woodwork poked your back.
Tissaia neared the bed, refusing eye contact. Itt made you uneasy, for Tissaia was never one to shy away from anyone's eyes. Especially since she could read everyone with her steely blue stare and could block out whoever tried to pry. It gave you the opportunity to look at her without shame or fear.
It only made you even more uneasy.
Tissaia de Vries had never looked out of sorts. She simply didn't do disheveled, or exhausted, or pale. Her Chaos and the enchanted looks she'd established after her ascension simply never let her. And maybe, to any normal eye, she looked fine. But the tremble of her fingers when she uncorked the vial only accentuated the droop of her expression.
"Something to drink and eat to replenish your Chaos." She pursed her lips, emptied half of the vial in your drink, and the other in your bowl of soup. Immediately, a soft cloud of pastel yellow puffed upwards and mixed with the steam of both hot beverages.
Careful not to kick the platter on the bed and spill anything, you pushed yourself further up. Before you could make a face at the wood once again poking your ribs, Tissaia had fluffed a pillow and placed it behind your back.
As if that had been too much coddling for her taste, she instantly walked away to look out the window. She clenched her entwined hands behind her back, willing her guilt and worries and heartbreak away.
When you'd disappeared through your portal, she'd been beside herself. It had taken her a good minute to clear her head and figure out what action to take next. It had taken her a while to track your Chaos in some woods, but she hadn't found you there. And when she returned to Aretuza, shaken at what she'd done, she'd been beside herself again. Because Tissaia had done something unimaginable in those woods. But she'd done it for you. For the greater good. There was comfort in knowing you'd never know. But also great responsibility and guilt for carrying that burden and that deceit with her for the rest of her life.
Tissaia could hear the rustling of the sheets, heard you blow at the heat of your tea before she cleared her throat,
"You broke a Brotherhood order when you travelled by portal on your own without consent from one of your superiors." She spoke gently but clearly. Perhaps she was afraid a loud voice would rattle you too much after this weird awakening, or maybe she was afraid any sound of her voice would make you flinch. Or... maybe she was afraid that a loud voice could only break if she thought too much of what her hands had done hours prior.
"A bold move right before your ascension." Tissaia nervously brushed her thumbs together in her palmed hands, straightening her back again in a feeble attempt to look more composed.
"You were gone for hours, something I can't easily brush past."
Fright instantly filled you. And when she turned around to look at you, you looked down at the warm cup in your hands. You couldn't let her look in your eyes. Nor could you let her read your thoughts.
Because she couldn't know where you'd been. She couldn't know who you'd seen... who knew you were still out there.
"You are dead to the world you used to know, and those you once knew are dead to yours. Use that for your rebirth in this new world. There is safety in surviving alone, like there is safety in no one knowing you survived."
The tea burned your tongue and throat as it went down, the sweetness of it not a great taste with the bitterness of the vial. But you'd seen what vial Tissaia had uncorked, and you needed all the replenishing your Chaos could get if you wanted to keep Tissaia out of your head.
Tissaia swallowed. Felt her lip tremble and her hands shake again. Then, in a moment of weakness, she sat down on the bed, grabbed your hand, and squeezed so hard your fingertips could have turned blue.
"Do not do that-" She took a shaky breath, "-ever again."
It wasn't a request, it wasn't a statement-- it was a plea.
Because Tissaia de Vries had done something terrible. She'd had to. You'd made her do so by running off and stumbling through those woods. And even if you would never know what she'd done that would hurt you so badly, that didn't mean she wanted to have to do it ever again.
Yennefer thundered down staircases, rushed through the long hall of classrooms, rounded a corner and threw open the door to Tissaia's office the second she found your chamber empty.
She'd woken up with the faint drowsiness of an artificial sleep still clinging to her, but she was wide awake the second her mind had caught up with her. She remembered it all. You-- trembling and drenched. Shaken like she'd never seen you before, the wobble in your voice evident when you'd spoken, followed by the very woman you came to Yennefer to hide from, taking you with her.
"Where is she?!"
Tissaia looked up, unaffected by the worried fury in Yennefer's violet eyes or the rage with which she'd spat her words. She simply put down her quill, stared at her, and stayed silent.
"Well?!"
Yennefer had had her own ascension practice trial the day before, and sure, there had been little mistakes that she was beating herself up about, but they hadn't left her as drastically affected as they had you. You'd returned a different person. You'd returned as small and drained as the day Yennefer had seen you being brought in.
"Y/N is resting."
Yennefer huffed, "Like you'd made me rest?"
Tissaia pursed her lips and inhaled deeply, "Y/N is replenishing her Chaos after yesterday's events."
"And what were yesterday's events?!" Yennefer asked, pushing for an answer when Tissaia remained silent, "Why am I not allowed to know?!"
Blue eyes of steel met violet ones full of frustration. Yennefer's eyes pierced through Tissaia's, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not see past the layers of protection. Tissaia could. Oh, she could. And she didn't quite know what to do with the information she found behind Yennefer's purple pools.
"That is confidential and you know it is, Yennefer."
For a split second, Tissaia wavered, Yennefer's lesser nickname already on the tip of her tongue in hopes that it would remind her of her place. But Yennefer's worry wasn't misplaced. It was admirable. Especially for a girl who had once shoved everyone away who came even a fraction too close or seemed even the slightest bit better than her.
"Then let me see her."
"I will tell her you came by."
Yennefer groaned, loudly and furiously, and small puffs of wind came out of her hands. Tissaia looked at them, at how they made the parchment on her desk dance, then looked up at the girl with a belittling and disapproving look. Yennefer was letting her Chaos out. Not out of loss of control, but because she wanted to rattle Tissaia. Because she wanted to get her way.
"Do you ever get tired pretending you are anything other than a centuries old hag who'd look like a decaying corpse if it wasn't for her enchantments?!"
Yennefer couldn't even bother waiting for a reaction, her anger already carrying her out the office with loud stomps and an even louder bang of the door.
She walked through the halls of Aretuza with her head full of doubts and worries, not even looking up when Sabrina and Fringilla passed her and asked if she was all right.
The second she opened the door where your familiar scent still lingered, she calmed. She rested against it, head falling back against the dark wood while she tried to stop the heaving of her chest.
The fire was out. It was cold, and the sun had long passed your chamber on the south side of the island, keeping it buried in the shade. A stack of notes and opened books were still on the desk, no doubt to cast one last glance before your trial. A set of freshly washed garments laid folded on your bed. The fabric that hung loosely around Yennefer's body began to itch at the thought of them.
She'd wait here. You'd have to return sometime. And when you did, your room would be a little less cold wwith Yennefer's company.
Yennefer sat up from your bed the second she heard the door creak. She'd been lost in her mind, passing the time by going through her notes again.
Your eyes went to the crackling hearth first. Then to Yennefer.
"Oh."
Yennefer stood up and pulled at her garments when you kept staring at her. The air got punched out of her lungs when you launched yourself against her, arms wrapped tightly around her neck and breath fanning her ear.
"Are you-"
She felt you nod against her, your arms tightening. With more confidence than ever before, she snaked her arms around your waist and held you close. You didn't cry this time as she held you. And Yennefer wasn't afraid to hurt you this time around either.
Something inside you settled. Like a feather that slowly fell down to its resting place on the floor. Or dust speckles twinkling in the lamp light. Calm and at ease.
You cleared your throat, let go but held her at arm's length. Yennefer's violet eyes were staring right through yours, but you had long ago mastered the art of blocking. It was of no use for her to try. But she deserved an explanation.
"Yesterday-" You started, "...it appeared to be too much, still."
"What do you mean?" Yennefer immediately shot back, fearing the worst. Because if you weren't ready to ascend... would that mean you'd disappear like all the others?
"What happened?"
"You know we aren't allowed to discuss-"
"And we're not allowed to cuss either, but fucking hell, Y/N- Did you see yourself when you got back? Something was wrong." Her eyes flickered to your arms, "Did it have something to do with-"
Instantly, you pulled back entirely, putting your arms behind your back and out of her reach.
"The trial is supposed to unearth our biggest challenge and have us face them. You know that."
"And yours was fire?"
You bit the inside of your cheek, then nodded. You could work with this. It wasn't even a full lie. Your biggest fear had been fire at some point, after all. And perhaps, if things landed sideways, it still would be.
"Shit- that's why you were drenched." Yennefer started pacing, "Did you use the right spell? Water magic is trickier than air, but I might have some notes on elder-"
"Yen..."
"Those were old, right?" Yennefer suddenly stopped in front of you, eyes going back to the burns hidden beneath your sleeves. "They had to be. The council wouldn't-" She licked her lips to try and relieve the tension in her jaw, "You didn't get hurt yesterday? Because I swore they looked new."
Your hand grabbed hers, "They're old. I promise." This you could reassure her of with all your might. So you did.
Yennefer nodded, but it was clear by how her eyes glazed over that something was still bothering her, "What happened with Tissaia then?"
Truth. You could tell her the truth. Tissaia had given you the go ahead.
"I ran off. By portal."
When Yennefer's eyes widened, you added,
"It was an accident that happened in my state of mind. But you need to keep that between us."
"Where'd you go?"
You hadn't entirely prepared for this branch of the story, but you knew you should've expected it. Yennefer was curious. Always needed to know everything. Only this time, her curiosity was probably fuelled by worry.
So, you told the truth. If not to settle her worry, then to give her what she deserved. You had already lied too much to her. She deserved better.
Your chin wobbled. "Home."
Yennefer watched you stumble, saw how you were fighting tears and felt your Chaos break. Immediately, she pulled you against her again. She knew how much you missed your family, had sensed so from fondness with which you'd told her your stories and the twinkle that had appeared in your eyes each time you did. Your family... they brought a childlike glee out of you. But there was something heavy weighing your smile down as well. She hated it.
"Did you see them?" She breathed into your hair.
You shook your head in the crook of her neck, and Yennefer's heart broke along with yours. Even she had thought about what a reunion with her family would look like, and she hadn't even had something worth returning to. But to get the opportunity to take a leap back home, and not see the faces you hold most dear, was enough to destroy anyone.
"Maybe next time, after your ascension." She played with the ends of your hair, hoping to soothe you with hopes and promises and dreams and wishes, "I could come with you. You could show me around. I could see your family's cottage and your land. Eat your mother's apple tart and look for stones on the riverbeds." She whispered into your hair, "You can show me the figures your father made you. I'm sure they kept your things. And you can show them the new you. They'll be so proud, Y/N, I know they will."
You just hummed. You knew better.
Because longing for a dream like that was only ever going to be a slow descent into self destruction.
a/n: a new part! took me long enough, hm? not my best work but it's been sitting in my drafts for months and I knew it wasn't going to get any better either way. I did my best to make it the best I could in this moment of time. I hope the story will finally be able to move forward now that ascension day and belleteyn are happening next!
& for those of you who celebrate: happy christmas to you and your loved ones! wishing you all the very best. I wanted to publish it today as a little treat. and for those who don't celebrate: I hope it's still a happy surprise, and I'm sending all my love to you! all the best and thanks for the continuous interest and support in this story. it's very dear to me. till next time.
Hi again! I've just seen you finished season 2 of The Witcher and you're taking requests for that...so, if it's ok, can I ask for headcanons (platonic, if you don't mind, please...) about Yen helping the reader who is beginning her studies at Aretusa?
A/N: The core of this is pretty short but I hope you like it!
YENNEFER HELPING READER WHO HAS JUST BEGAN HER STUDIES AT ARETUZA:
Your magic erupted when you were only a toddler
Your family had to hide it, as the community wasn’t very fond of people who had magical abilities
So you were a healer in your village for a while
But eventually everyone found out you were using magic in your work
And didn’t like it
Because they thought that since you can do good with your magic, you can also do bad
And they drove you away
So you had been living in the streets for the longest time
Living with scraps of food
But one day, you were approached by a tall woman
Who told you that you should come with her
Because you needed help to control your magic
You didn’t even see any other choice
So you agreed to go with her
You were brought to this huge castle
It’s a school, you were told
A dark haired, purple eyed woman was assigned as your guide/helper
She introduced herself as Yennefer
She guided you into your new room
She helped you unpack
She taught you the layout of the school
She helped you choose the right books in the library for your first day
And on your first night, you bathed together with the others
She helped you get know everyone
Made sure you’d bond with others before studies started
She was an outsider herself when she started her studies
So she wanted to make sure you don’t feel the same
Next morning, she came to your door and proposed you’d walk to class together
You already knew the layout of the school well enough and you would have known where the class was
But she told you she was nervous on her first day and reckoned you may feel the same
(She was right, to be honest)
She told you about the teachers while you walked
And told you about the quirks of your teachers
(As some were pretty strict and she didn’t want you to be surprised)
It was definitely easier to start your life there with her guidance.
Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
He wasn't going to go near you, never trusted witches really but like he never trusted them, he was compelled to you like a moth to a light.
When he saw that you could heal people, he knew you were a rare being. Witches never dabbled in health and healing. But you did.
He asks you why, you simply say that you wish to help people. This is the start a grand friendship between you and the Witcher. You help him and he helps you.
You always laughed at his dry jokes. You didn't have much company really, you were shy and kept to yourself. Knew to keep yourself away from the village near by
Yennefer of Vengerberg
Becomes quite jealous of you when Geralt talks of you to her, she felt that you were going to manipulate or take Geralt away from her.
However, those assumptions quickly diminish when she sees you. Then to hear that you are a healer that makes you quite a rare thing to be treasured in the continent.
She decides that she'll take you under her wing, not to teach magic but to teach you how to handle yourself since she could see that you were bad at human interaction.
You would be dead if you had to be a royal mage to a king.
Maybe she'll ask Geralt if they could both take you to bed. She just knows you'll be even more beautiful.
Triss merigold
Absolutely adores you! She's only seen a handful of healers in her life so far. You, though, are the most greatest healer so far.
You have compassion which is suprisely rare for healers.
Her and you get along quite well. You too have regular meet ups to talk about everything that's going on in the continent. She helps you also get better at your people skills.
Iorveth
He's not one known to be gentle with humans, especially magic wielding humans. In his lifetime, all magic wielders have been egotistical. However, you are different.
It agitates him to no end to see you healing his troops, he feels like his manipulating you but he can't shake off the feeling that maybe you are the one manipulating him actually.
It's kinda like a one-sided angry staring match and with you being very uncomfortable.
Vernon roche
Like Iorveth, he doesn't trust you at first but after you make him some herbal tea that reluctantly drank thanks to Ves. He eases up on you.
Somehow you made his back not have that ache that's been bothering him for a while.
Starts looking out for you and just generally helps you when you need it
You've wormed yourself into his heart but he won't show it
The air had been cold all morning, but somehow it was more so as you looked out across the frozen lake. Giggles carried towards you by the wind, soft laughter and teasing remarks from Ciri as she taught Yennefer to ice skate. One part of you longed to go and join them, but the other—
"Y/N."
You glanced over your shoulder. Geralt leant against the axe he'd been cutting wood with. His head tilted, one hand at his hip, he offered a knowing smile. "You can join them, you know."
He had already told you as such, so he knew you knew. Nonetheless, stubbornness ran through your veins like blood, and when your mind was set on something, it was set in stone. Though, Geralt had always considered himself adept at breaking that stone. He had an axe now, after all.
You sniffed and brushed your hair behind your ears, a useless act considering the winter breeze. You turned back to the lake and watched as Yennefer yelled out and slipped, grabbing onto Ciri with a flurry of giggles.
You were long over your aversion to the princess's relationship with Geralt, but this...feeling you had towards Ciri and Yennefer was unfamiliar and unanticipated. The two were obviously close. Ciri seemed to have that effect on people.
"No," you said eventually, "it's alright. Ciri has my skates, anyway."
Geralt shrugged. He dropped the axe and walked towards the lake. "We don't need skates. Come." He stopped by the bank and reached a hand behind him expectantly. When you didn't grasp it, he turned to see you stood in the same spot, unblinking. Geralt dropped his arm and sighed. "Y/N, you love to skate. Come here."
You didn't vocally decide not to listen, but Geralt was well versed in the behaviour of the girl he'd raised. When you crossed your arms over your chest, not defiantly, more unwillingly, he dropped his arm and let a small smile slip onto his face.
"You remember when I first taught you to skate?" he asked, stepping one foot on the lake. He tested it, his boot slipping easily across the smooth surface. "You were four."
You couldn't help but breathe a short laugh. "You mean I taught you."
The Witcher stepped onto the lake, using his arms for balance. He skidded a bit, then turned to face you. "I slipped over once," he reminded you.
"And used four-year-old me to keep you up."
Geralt hummed morosely. Admittedly, that had not been his finest moment. Still. He reached his arm out again and opened his hand. "If you are so good, come and prove it."
There was no hint of competitiveness in his voice, just a discreet encouragement, and you took it with a long sigh and a reluctant smile, trudging over to him and taking his hand. He helped you onto the lake, allowing you to grip his sleeve as you found your footing, and noted fondly that said grip did not slacken even as you both slid slowly along the outskirts of the lake.
Ciri and Yennefer were still far out in the middle, slipping and tripping and laughing until their hearts' content. Somehow, Geralt doubted you wanted to be close to them right now, and not because of your refusal to leave the safety of the lake's edge. He wouldn't discuss it with you until he felt you needed it. He had an idea of what was bothering you, but as long as it wasn't dispiriting you as much as it had when your disapproval had surrounded him, he was sure it would fix itself.
You let go of his sleeve eventually, eyes fixed on the ice as you slid along it. Geralt turned so he was gliding backwards, hands at the ready in case his apparently oh-so-professional child needed some support. You were determined, though, your lack of skates doing nothing to thwart you, and Geralt felt himself relaxing and enjoying the—
"Oh, fuck." The moment he took a single wrong step, everything went to shit. Balance long forgotten, Geralt went into panic mode, arms pinwheeling, feet fighting for traction. You panicked too at first, instinctively attempting to launch forward to catch him lest he fall straight forward, but when you figured out he was in no imminent danger, you straightened with a snort.
"Geralt, you—Geralt—Geralt, you're making it worse!" Your words arrived between barrels of laughter as Geralt continued in the reclamation of his balance. He looked like a newborn deer, its long legs unused to the ground beneath it. You had tears in your eyes and when a burst of hysterics echoed across the lake, you realised Ciri and Yennefer had noticed the spectacle too.
Your laughter died when Geralt did indeed fall forward, though from the look on his face you were sure it was purposeful. Before you could utter a single squeal of anticipation, he lunged towards you, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down beneath him as he fell. His hands went behind your head to shield the impact but the wind was knocked from you all the same, even more so when the Witcher's tickling hands found your sides.
"Hey!" You could feel the laughter-induced tears on your cheeks freezing, the harsh wind almost as cold as the ice beneath you. Geralt made quick work of boxing you between his arms, poking and prodding and scribbling his fingers across every spot he knew you possessed.
"You may be better than me at ice skating," he ground out breathlessly, "but here is something I will always best you at."
"Stop ihit, you bihig lump!" You pushed at his face and Geralt grunted with his newly blocked vision. Seconds later, a heavy force ploughed into his back and he was knocked off course.
"Attack!" Ciri yelled. She grabbed piles of snow from the bank and shoved as much as her hands would allow down his jacket.
Geralt howled. "Fucking fuck, Cirilla!"
Yennefer leaned down and extended an arm towards you, still on your back and struggling for breath. You hesitated but took it. You stood up slowly, slipping once or twice, but made it safely into Yennefer’s arms. Yennefer held you close, a grin on her face as she watched the princess and the Witcher wrestle, and you found yourself leaning into her. Yennefer leant her chin on your head, and you relaxed. As always, there was never a need to worry.
Your family was too tight-knit to ever leave anyone out.
