The Legend of Yennefer: Chapter 7

The Legend of Yennefer: Chapter 7

Written by - TheFoxBride

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

The Cintrian Reavers tied up their remaining human opponents, and eagerly looked forward to locating their prey. Their Dwarven compatriots, led by Yarpen Zigrin, stood watch with a look of uncertainty in their eyes.

The bard, the witcher, and the sorceress struggled to break free, but Yennefer was most annoyed by the relentless verbal ribbing from Dandelion. “It’s because of her we are prisoners, they will probably-” She spat at him, but only succeeded in hitting Geralt across the cheek.

A broad shouldered reaver named Boholt smirked and grabbed his sword. “Onto more important matters,” he arrogantly stated and looked towards a large boulder that soon sprung an elongated neck and long claws. While not being the brightest man, Boholt realized this was in fact not a boulder, but the golden dragon Villentretenmerth.

“I could not wait for you any longer,” the dragon spouted. “I am ready.” He arched his back and violently slammed his tail on the ground, sending a shockwave across the plain.

The reavers and dwarves were easily swept aside by the massive beast, sending the short legged fighters running for the hills. Boholt was tossed off his mount and slammed his head against a jagged stone.

Before Villentretenmerth could fully process his victory, a cloud of dust erupted from the other side of the river. Several large wagons emerged and soon dozens of men began pouring out, armed with spears and halberds. 

“It’s the guards of Holopole!” explained the bard.

The dragon nudged a small greyish creature towards the tied up trio, and soon thundered off to meet his new opponents.

“Geralt, what is that?” queried Yennefer.

“It’s what he was protecting, the offspring of the poisoned dragon.”

The baby dragon stumbled over to Yennefer and snuggled against the sorceress. She had a puzzled look on her face, that only ended after hearing the cries of Villentretenmerth.

The militia had wrapped the dragon in nets and pinned it to the ground. As the attackers moved in for the kill, a resounding war cry bellowed throughout the land. 

The Zerrakanians arrived and cut a swath through the militiamen like a knife through cake, temporarily buying some time.

Nimue shook her head, refusing another glass of wine. Two was plenty if she were to finish this story this evening. “I mentioned earlier that our hands make us, and our the most important object to a mage. But there are times where you may find yourself incapaciated, and must adapt. The mark of a great mage is being able to claim the day, without your full capabilities. To defend order from chaos.”

As the group rallied around the remaining wagons, Yen had an idea. “Geralt, the sign of Igni, burn through my rope!”

“Without looking? I’ll hit you.”

“Just form the sign, dammit! I can take it,” she commanded.

Yennefer was able to get one leg free, and as the smell of burning flesh filled the air she shouted out in incantation. The first wagon was largely unaffected, but the second one was successful in a rather peculiar manner. All it’s crew were transformed into croaking frogs, which set off frantically in all directions.

With one more attempt, she was able to turn the first wagon into a puff of smoke, and make the round wheels of the third one become square. Villentretenmerth was soon free, with Geralt and Yennefer rising to meet him.

“Order and chaos,” said the smiling dragon. “Remember, we must go to the ends of the earth to defend that which is most important to us. My purpose was to protect this treasure of a dragon. Perhaps someday you will discover a purpose as well, witcher.” 

He turned towards Yennefer with a resolute look. “You were made for each other, you and the witcher, but nothing will come of it. I am sorry.”

Yennefer turned somber. “I know, but I too would like to believe that there is no limit to what is possible. Or, maybe, that limit is very far away.”

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