The Divine Hunter Chapter 637: The Beginning of the End

Chandeliers swayed above the grand ballroom in Novigrad, their light illuminating a bard positioned on stage. He was adorned in a vibrant blue shirt, its puffy sleeves and tight fit accentuating his form, with a feathered bird resting atop his head. His lute's melody gradually faded as his song neared its conclusion.

Upon finishing his performance, the bard offered a bow to the captivated audience, which erupted in a wave of thunderous applause and jubilant cheers.

From the crowd, a stout dwarf, whose beard cascaded down to his belly, stood. "Thank you, Dandelion," he boomed, his voice like a resonating gong. "I, Yarpen Zigrin, a guard of the Eternal Fire and a dwarf once advised by a witcher, must offer my praise for your utterly magnificent voice. None can match you, and I believe all here concur with my assessment."

The dwarf was surrounded by a multitude exceeding two hundred individuals, a diverse assembly of humans and non-humans, including dwarves, elves, and gnomes. Esteemed sorceresses and an enigmatic oneiromancer were also present. The ballroom teemed with a blend of commoners in worn attire and nobility adorned in opulent riches.

The once-unclaimed, exclusive members' seats were now occupied by the city's most prominent figures. The Collector, the King of Beggars, Cleaver, and even the Hieronymus of the Eternal Fire were in attendance. Those unable to secure a seat within the ballroom congregated in the aisles, reclined on the plush red carpet bordering the seating area, or balanced precariously on the banister.

No one voiced displeasure at this unconventional seating arrangement. Instead, nods and hushed conversations were exchanged. Some scantily clad men raised their tankards in boisterous toasts, while ladies remained enraptured by the dramatic narrative, tears streaming down their faces.

"The Brotherhood of Witchers' is a truly spectacular piece. It deserves to be performed in every corner of the world. Imagine its reach extending to Kaedwen, Redania, Temeria, Aedirn, and even Kovir, nestled beyond the Dragon Mountains in the farthest north. Every Northerner ought to witness this play. They must learn of the heroes who navigated these crises. It is time they offered apologies and repented for their unfounded slanders against the witchers."

Beside Yarpen stood Barney, Reagan, and Paul, their faces flushed as they vehemently agreed. The common folk in the audience displayed expressions of deep shame.

"However, I do have a single grievance. When can we anticipate the sequel? You cannot simply leave us in suspense! The witchers valiantly vanquished monsters, saving countless lives. They confronted and defeated the formidable Wild Hunt, aided the sorcerers of the North in thwarting a coup on Thanedd, an act that indirectly bolstered the Northern Realms' alliance to support Meve in the war to defend Rivia. Furthermore, they repelled the forces from the South. But then, what became of them? Did they avert the impending world-ending catastrophe? I heard tales from Gors Velen that the sea near the isle inexplicably remains frozen solid, a true marvel. Those haughty sorcerers even erected statues in honor of the witchers at Aretuza."

"Indeed. Even if you are unwilling to continue the tale, you could at least share what transpired," Corinne interjected, her eyes blinking rapidly. "What did the witcher and the captivating young ladies encounter at the conclusion of the White Frost?"

"How might I articulate this?" Dandelion inquired, a knowing smile gracing his lips. "Every coin possesses two sides; such is the eternal truth. Where goodness exists, so too shall malevolence. Where heat prevails, cold will inevitably follow. Where strength is present, weakness is its counterpart. If you consider the legendary Elder Blood as one face of the coin, then the White Frost represents the other. One creates rifts in the fabric of space-time, while the other mends them. They emerged simultaneously and have been locked in an eternal struggle, like twin entities destined to clash throughout eternity."

"So, did they prevail? Did the Elder Blood emerge victorious?"

"Is that a rhetorical query?" Cyrus, also known as Jiji the doppler, posed from the second floor. Stroking his beard, he declared loudly, "Had they failed, that cataclysm would have befallen us. We would not be here, reveling and offering prayers to the glorious Eternal Fire."

"Yarpen, Corinne, you must have indulged in too much drink," Gawain quipped with a jest.

"Nay, your understanding is flawed. The White Frost has indeed vanished, but did the heroes return?" Yarpen directed his gaze, slightly swollen from emotion, at the bard. His eyes betrayed a mixture of apprehension and fervent expectation.

The audience, moved by the play's narrative, awaited the bard's response with held breaths, fearing a negative confirmation.

Dandelion offered a smile, responding with an air of cryptic mystery: "Perhaps when you find yourselves confronting monsters amidst your travels in the wilds, and you require assistance, you shall uncover the answer to that very question. For the present, I must take my leave. I intend to embark on an extensive journey for at least a month, rendering me unable to perform. My sincerest apologies for this." With a final, apologetic bow, Dandelion turned and proceeded towards the ballroom's exit.

With her brown hair cascading down her back, a young lady of innocent mien offered a cheerful wave. Her eyes gleamed with pure naivete. Dandelion descended from the stage, his lute in hand. He acknowledged his admirers with a nod before approaching the girl. "Is everyone prepared, Casiga?"

"They are, Dandelion. We were just missing you. But is it truly wise to leave Priscilla unattended in Kovir?"

Dandelion cleared his throat and ticked his fingers. With a righteous tone, he declared, "I am undertaking a personal sacrifice. Several couples await my solemnization of their union in another realm. I would never abandon my wife or these devoted fans if not for the entreaties of old friends. And consider this: Witchers, sorceresses, a succubus, higher vampires, and elves, who are typically stoic, are journeying to an unfamiliar and distant land. Without a bard to enliven their spirits, it would surely be a dreary affair. It would be sheer torture for them. Wait. Should we not take a carriage to the House of Gawain and then board a ship?"

Casiga made a gesture, and the glow of magic formed a diamond-shaped portal. "That would be far too leisurely." She then pulled Dandelion along and plunged into the portal.

A dizzying spin enveloped Dandelion. When his senses returned, he found himself standing upon the deck of a colossal brig. The bard peered over the railing, his stomach lurching with vertigo. They were nearly thirty-three hundred feet above the ground. The structures and individuals below were but tiny specks, receding rapidly.

He surveyed his surroundings. The heavens were as clear and tranquil as a lake, adorned with clouds that constantly shifted their forms. A biting, suffocating wind swept through the air, and the sails billowed like proud banners. The emblem of crossed blades radiated a golden hue in the sunlight. At the heart of the deck, familiar figures engaged in animated conversation.

Ivar animatedly demonstrated with his right fist, painting a vision of a bright future alongside Letho, Serrit, Auckes, and the newly formed Vipers. Geralt and Yennefer stood at the ship's edge, appreciating the panoramic vista. Vesemir and Mignole were nestled close, engaged in a hushed exchange. Eskel had an arm draped around a giggling succubus. Lambert was engrossed in lighthearted banter with Lydia and Kantilla. Kiyan and Evelyn were occupied with the study of a deathbell, while Igsena serenaded them with a newly learned play, with Coen as her attentive audience.

Felix, Coen, and Eskel were captivating the apprentices with tales of their past exploits.

Coral and Triss, both elegantly attired, assisted a contingent of Aen Elle sorcerers in maintaining the ship's magical barrier, shielding them from the biting winds.

A handsome yet undeniably charming young woman, clad in hunting attire, stealthily approached Dandelion. "You're tardy, Dandelion. Grace us with a song befitting this occasion." Her silver ponytail was tied neatly behind her head, and the Witcher medallions of the Wolf and Viper hung from her neck. A wide grin spread across her lips.

"Why are you attired as a witcher, Ciri? And who bestowed those swords and medallions upon you? Did your grandmother sanction your departure?" Dandelion strummed his lute.

"Don't you know? Not so long ago, Roy and I utilized the Elder Blood to rendezvous with the man who abandoned his kin. I speak of Emhyr."

"And how does that relate to my inquiry?"

"Following Roy and my persuasion, the emperor finally recognized his errors. He graciously relinquished Cintra back to Calanthe. With her troubles resolved, she was overjoyed and granted me my freedom."

Dandelion found himself brimming with questions regarding this turn of events.

He even conceived of a suitable name for the occasion.

"A pity Calanthe retained Eileni. She intends for Eileni to ascend the throne of Cintra."

Ciri interrupted Dandelion's contemplation.

"However, I harbor no interest in such matters. Whether it's ruling Cintra or the Aen Elle, I simply relish adventuring alongside you all."

"Very well, Ciri the witcher. Congratulations on reclaiming your liberty. Now, let us return to our objective. Where is our navigator, Roy?"

"At the bow."

A cloaked figure stood with one leg braced upon the conical ram. Two swords were secured to his back, and a hand crossbow was fastened between them. "Prepare yourselves, everyone. Close your eyes. Hold your breath and count to ten."

The dark ship abruptly halted, then surged forward, its ram cleaving through the void. The entire vessel rapidly plunged into the emptiness, vanishing without a trace.

After a brief and indescribable passage through the dark void, clarity returned. The ship had traversed into a new and alien world. While their own realm was experiencing the close of summer, this land was enveloped in winter. Icy winds howled aggressively.

Below the ship stretched vast expanses of land and snow-capped mountain ranges. Hundreds of previously unknown flora swayed elegantly. Those aboard the vessel gazed down to observe a multitude of creatures they had never encountered before: foxes, badgers, mud crabs, saber-toothed tigers, and even colossal, grayish-white giants the size of small structures. Woolly mammoths were also visible.

Further in the distance, a magnificent city was erected upon a stone mountain. Golden sunlight cast a lustrous sheen upon it, its walls standing tall and formidable, yet the city exuded an aura of peace and vibrancy.

"We have arrived in Skyrim?" Ciri's face was flushed with exhilaration, and she was practically bouncing with anticipation.

"The Bannered Mare in Whiterun brews a unique ale, crafted by Argonians?" Auckes licked his lips in thought.

"Daedric Princes are known to play mischievous tricks on mortals all across this land?" Letho and Felix exchanged a knowing glance.

"Could the Companions transform into formidable wolves? How do they differ from the Cursed Ones?" Angouleme pondered aloud, her curiosity piqued.

"Are there entirely new systems for magic and enchanting to be discovered here?" Kalkstein's eyes gleamed with excitement.

"And, what about another variant of vampires existing in this realm?" Regis stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Furthermore, dragons are wreaking havoc and destroying cities indiscriminately?" Ciri exclaimed, her voice ringing with excitement. "Roy, I cannot contain my eagerness any longer. Lead us on a dragon-slaying quest immediately!"

Roy turned his gaze back towards his companions. He observed their familiar, eager expressions and a smile slowly spread across his face. "Settle down, everyone. Our immediate priority is to locate the Jarl of Whiterun. Following that, we shall consult with my associates to ascertain the possibility of acquiring and transforming a suitable location into the brotherhood's official Skyrim chapter. This marks a significant new beginning for us."

"So, you anticipate establishing additional branches in the future?"

"Indeed, that is the plan."

"In that case, what are we delaying for?"

***

The mood aboard the dark ship was jubilant, filled with merry laughter. The vessel sailed into Whiterun, a city brimming with the promise of a new adventure.

"Through the veil of encroaching darkness, a silver light pierces through; banished is the shadowy mist as the radiant glow of the Signs manifests."

Melodious notes of a lute drifted through the air. Dandelion's enchanting singing seemed to cascade from the heavens.

"The previous tale has reached its conclusion, and a fresh adventure now beckons. Thus, our legendary saga continues its onward march."

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The End.

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