Chapter Text
The portal dumped me out at a river, and I looked around, feeling with my chaos if I was alone or not. As far as I could tell, I was. There was a downed tree nearby and I used it as a seat while I got out the map and journal.
Everyone said I was crazy. That nothing good would come from this adventure. According to them, I was chasing ghosts I wasn’t meant to find. My thoughts on that were that they could all fuck off. I hadn’t asked for their opinions, I simply told them I was leaving on a journey I felt I needed to.
Geralt practically begged me to stay. Ciri cried but said she understood. Triss thought my grief was pushing me to run. Sabrina had silently hugged me then nodded as if that was our good bye.
None of them understood. Probably because I didn’t tell them everything. But fuck. It barely made sense to me. I’d loved Tissaia my whole life in one form or another. Admiration, disdain, hostility, understanding—not words people would use to describe love, but under it all, that’s what it was for us. Maybe we hadn’t shown it the way most would. We knew though. When we let ourselves go there in our heads, we knew. We also failed to tell each other. It was one of my biggest failings.
And if I hadn’t known before, I did now.
When Tissaia went missing, I found a chest with a few items in a hidden compartment of her room. For the most part, they were little trinkets that probably meant something to her. Those stories were ones I didn’t have. But there was also a journal.
It took me a day to gain the courage to open it for two reasons. One, I was afraid of what hex might kill me for the invasion. Two, if it confirmed that she was really dead, then I wasn’t sure I could handle it. That was what the Council was proclaiming. The blood pools in her study were the only proof. No body had been found. People thought the assailants had taken her as the proof to claim their reward from whoever sent them.
My theory was that she’d evaded an assassination attempt and was plotting her revenge from somewhere safe.
Regardless of what the truth was, I knew I needed to follow through on this.
It wasn’t until I opened the journal for the first time that day in her chambers that I realized it had been spelled to only open for me. Tissaia left it for me. Only me. My mind didn’t know what to do with that information. Then, or now, days later.
I opened the journal for the millionth time. Each time, I had to pause on the first page and run my fingers over the script.
Yennefer,
When the day comes for you to read this, my hope is that we’ve found a way to be at peace with one another. If not, my request is for you not to burn it before you give me a chance. This last chance.
There’s a map between the final pages should you wish to follow along visually as you read.
I don’t guarantee this will bring you the peace you seek. My only wish is that it gives you an understanding of things you previously didn’t. Perhaps it can undo a small amount of the miscommunications between us.
One point I never want you to doubt is you are loved. By me, Yennefer. In whatever form you can accept it. I love you and always have.
Yours,
Tissaia
With a deep breath, I turned the page.
In true Yennefer form, I had decided to follow along with the journal literally. The river I was at ran just east of Tiel on the northern edge of Aedirn. I’d been to Tiel once when I was court mage. What happened here—that I never knew about—was why I was here now.
Five years. It took them five years to go after her. That’s a blink of an eye in a mage’s life. I thought there would be more time to ensure her safety. If they thought they’d waited long enough to ward off suspicion, they were wrong.
This was Artorius, with Stegobor’s approval and personnel.
What’s worse is I was almost too late.
The royal convoy was only a hill away when I managed to find the camp and end the would be assassins. There were four of them when my information said there would be three. The fourth managed to land a blow before I snapped his neck.
The pain from the dagger almost prevented me from getting my illusion up in time. As I stood behind it, with blood soaking my dress, Yennefer passed not twenty paces away. They’d paused and her violet eyes had searched the forest. No doubt she felt the chaos from my hastily thrown spell. It was sloppy, not something to be proud of.
She looked well, happy even, atop a horse at her king’s side.
When they rode off and cleared the next hill, I portalled away. There’s no doubt in my mind that Yennefer wouldn’t be pleased to know that I was there, probably choosing to believe that she could handle the threat on her own. She could, I’m sure, but I’d rather keep her from the danger of trying. If my wound was any indication, my fellow chapter members weren’t playing by the normal rules. The poison took days to leech from my system, and I chose to stitch the cut instead of using magic because of it.
The scar will serve as a reminder that I’d failed her once but would do my best to never again.
According to the map, I was in the same place where Tissaia bled for me. My words to her at Sodden were true so many times over. I never knew there’d been an attempt on my life in these woods. Vaguely I recalled thinking I sensed her chaos here, but the story was so many decades ago, I wondered if I wasn’t just filling in the gaps of my memory with her words. But according to her, I had paused to search, so maybe it was true.
Her blood had fallen on this ground. Four men perished here because of their mission. And Tissaia never said a word to me about it. She probably never told anyone for fear of the backlash from the Council.
I turned the page to see what was next. When I originally found the journal, and then discovered the content, I’d only let myself read the first entry before I travelled. Everything from here on was a mystery to me.
Vanielle visited today. When my classes ended, I came back to find her in my study. It’s been too long since we had a night like tonight where we enjoyed wine and the fire, relaying our endeavors and remembering the past. The Continent has changed in so many ways over the course of my life, yet the politics are largely the same. All that’s different is the terminology.
Clans no longer fight clans. Kingdoms fight kingdoms.
Men still think they know all.
Women fight for every bit of ground they can make.
And in the end, what is it for?
Power? Control? Land?
There was a question Vanielle posed tonight that gave me pause.
Why have I not mended my relationship with Yennefer?
My reply to the question was to ask why she asked. It was deflection, we both knew. Then she said that she’d never seen me heartbroken, wasn’t sure my heart could break, but that for years now, she puzzled it out and that’s what she decided it was.
I don’t have an honest answer other than to reach out to Yennefer would be for my own selfishness. I can suffer it for her, to not be selfish any longer in regards to her. If I make contact, I know it’ll be rebuffed and only add fuel to the flame of hatred. One day, perhaps, we can snuff that fire of hate and begin anew. Now isn’t that time.
I shook my head. All the longing we’d both done seemed stupid now. She couldn’t reach out because she knew I would send her away, and I couldn’t because I didn’t want her to know how much I needed her.
The past was the past though, and all I could do now was reconcile the new information with my own experiences along with learning more about Tissaia. There were many sides of her that I didn’t know. Hopefully, this journey let me learn about them too.
Turning the page, I prepared myself for what was next.
Shaerrawedd. I remember when it was a thriving elven palace.
That’s where I stopped and unfolded the map. There was a spot marked just inside the trees to the west of the ruins. It wasn’t that far, and if there was nothing left for me at this river, I wanted to go there. Standing, I looked around, reaching out with my chaos. There was no sign of her left here, so I packed the journal and map into my sack and conjured a portal.
On the other side, I stepped out on guard, ready to fight and unsure of what awaited me. By my estimate, I was a little further south than where Tissaia had indicated, but that was by design. If there was danger there, I needed to be prepared. Picking my way through the trees, sensing my surroundings, it didn’t feel as though anything bigger than an elk was nearby. It was a small miracle that I was going to make it through two destinations without interference.
I made it to approximately the spot on the map and looked around, finding nothing in plain sight, but I could feel Tissaia’s chaos. If it wasn’t my imagination, that meant she was still alive. If she were dead, it would’ve vanished with her. My heart raced as I spun, looking for her while trying to pinpoint it. It was miniscule though, so I knew she wasn’t present.
Hoping for some sort of clue, I sat on a rock and opened the journal to read.
Shaerrawedd. I remember when it was a thriving elven palace. There was even a trade market where their kind would gather and swap goods between friendly groups. It’s not as it was.
Now it sits as a ruin that some have paid tribute to the fallen at with gifts or flowers.
I’m still not sure why Filavandrel chose that spot for us to meet, but with the way our relationship can be, I allowed it. There’s always one worry or another with him. At least this time, we met without violence. And as far as I can tell this far, without anyone knowing.
There’s a tree that was split with lightning yet still grows new leaves to the west of the castle. From there, south is a formation of three boulders. Between them I placed what he bestowed upon me.
Further down the page, there was another inscription with a skylark drawn next to it. Like the one I’d found on a stamp in Tissaia’s desk. The ink was newer there too. Not as new as the dedication in the front, but newer than anything I’d read so far.
I traced the outline of the bird with a frown, reading.
One day, should this journal make it into your hands, Yennefer, go there to retrieve it. You’re the only one I trust. An explanation will come. Have faith in me.
Well. If that didn’t hit me right in the chest. How had she grown to trust me when all I’d done was disappoint her? And when did she write that? At what point did she know this book would be for me?
Not in the beginning. But when?
Those answers would come, I just needed to trust her the same way she did me. Looking around, I didn’t see the tree she spoke of. I stood and tucked the map in the journal and grabbed my pack to explore.
It was almost dark when I found the tree and then the boulders. The feel of Tissaia’s chaos was there but still muted. After I climbed around to see if I could find it, I stood away from the rocks and sighed as my spell to push one of them aside failed. Of course she wouldn’t make it easy. Not if it was important.
Gathering some plants and grass, I found my center, feeling ridiculous like a first year novice. The difference between then and now was that I wasn’t just raising a stone. I was breaking the magical seal Tissaia had put in place plus lifting a boulder out of the way.
It didn’t matter that after Sodden people called me the most powerful mage. Tissaia’s chaos was stronger, older, more controlled than mine. Even her simple spells at Aretuza always felt intense. Maybe our magic was on a similar level these days, but neither could be scoffed at.
To break one of her enchantments was a feat. One that killed the plants in my hand and the tree beside me when I used it next. The wretched woman had layered the protections. And it pissed me off to think that she’d probably built the web in a fraction of the time it took me to dismantle it. Whatever was hidden had better be fucking worth it because I didn’t enjoy breaking a sweat.
With everything out of the way and no trace of Tissaia’s chaos—which made me sad—I went to the place that had been revealed. There was a small wooden chest. Luckily it only had a preservation spell around it.
I took it back over to where my stuff was and sat down with a huff. Leave it to Tissaia to drain me without even trying. Before I could find the nerve to open and see whatever was so special, I thought about the mess I’d made and the fact that using that much chaos could’ve been felt by someone else.
Just because I thought I was alone didn’t mean I was, and Tissaia had kept whatever this was hidden for decades. The very day she received it, she hid it. That meant not even Aretuza was safe enough. Until I knew, I didn’t want to risk going to a town either. I grabbed my stuff and headed for the ruins. At least it would protect me from the elements and I could set up a few wards to alert me if anyone crossed them.
Once I was settled and relatively safe, I also lit a fire because the sun was completely gone. Feeling better about the situation, I pulled the box into my lap and flipped the latch then I lifted the lid. Inside was an orb and a key. No note, no instructions. This was never going to be easy, but a little help would’ve been nice.
I lifted the orb, sensing the magic in it. The issue, I didn’t know what kind. Nothing about it felt familiar. The key could also fit any lock on the Continent. I put them both back in the chest and got the journal out.
You’re the only one I trust. An explanation will come. Have faith in me.
I had faith, but Tissaia had to know I was impatient!
Instead of skimming through to find what I was looking for, I closed my eyes and took a breath. There was always a lesson and a particular way Tissaia liked to give it. I’d committed to this journey. I would do it her way, one page at a time.
Laying beside the fire, I flipped the page to see if it would require travel or not.
I’ve been dreaming these past weeks. It’s been an incredibly long time since I had dreams I could remember with such detail.
There’s a point each night where I know it’s a dream because someone who’s not currently in my life is there. Instead of waking myself, I wait to see what their fate holds. Then I endure the torture of it.
If anyone knew, I’m sure they would question why I put myself through the pain. I know I wouldn’t answer truthfully, but the fact is, I deserve it.
How many have I hurt or condemned to a fate I knew would bring them pain?
How many of my girls have I stripped of their human form to feed the power this place needs?
How many have I wronged or used as a stepping stone on my way to ‘greatness’?
The answer to all of those questions is hundreds. And along the way, I always had my justification. In most cases, it was the right decision. The question that haunts me isn’t those.
The one question I know the answer to with absolute certainty is the question that bothers me most.
How many of them left me feeling empty when they were gone?
It’s simple.
One.
The pain she brings me is multifaceted and down to my core.
There are days I can breathe, convince my mind nothing matters, but other times it leaves me weeping on the floor.
If anyone knew, truly understood the depths of it, not just what they think they do, they would kill us both. And that is the biggest danger to the Continent.
It’s not the girls Stregobor accuses of being our end, the monsters roaming the lands, or even the battles between kingdoms. No, the true danger is what lengths I would go to protect the love in my soul that I know only brings me pain and might always.
Though, the day that pain stops, it might as well be my end for I will no longer want to live.
I closed the journal and cried myself to sleep in those old ruins, knowing Tissaia and I had squandered so many opportunities at having a happier life. A life worth living for.