The heat of the burning forest vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, one moment the trees around the clearing were roaring pillars of orange flame, smoke twisting upward into the dark canopy, the next, the fire then behaved strangely.
It was drawn back. Every ember. Every spark and every flame peeling itself away from bark and soil, racing toward Sebastian.
The Scoia'tael trio watched with stunned faces as the inferno spiraled around the Witcher. Fire wrapped around his body in ribbons of molten gold and deep crimson before sinking beneath his skin and vanishing entirely.
Darkness returned to the forest and the aftermath remained.
Blackened earth and charred trunks, the stink of burned flesh and steel. And bodies, bodies everywhere.
Redanian soldiers lay scattered across the clearing in broken heaps, armor melted in places, scorched wounds still smoking faintly in the air. Some had died with swords half-raised. Others looked as though death had found them before they even realized the witcher had reached them.
Sebastian stood in the middle of it all with his steel sword hanging loosely at his side. Calm and silent, barely even breathing hard like the battle had cost him nothing, Faelorn stared at him for a long moment without speaking.
The Scoia'tael commander had seen men butchered before. He had done plenty of butchering himself over the years. Humans. Elves. Dwarves. Nilfgaardians. Redanians. It came with the war.
But not like this.
The scarred elf slowly exhaled through his nose while watching Sebastian walk toward them through the smoke. "Aen Seidhe preserve me…" the elf muttered under his breath. "I can't believe what I have just witnessed…"
The she-elf who had captured Sebastian earlier still held her bow in her hands, though lowered now. Her eyes followed him carefully, almost cautiously.
Yarvik the dwarf scratched his beard then finally blurted out,
"Bloody fiery hell…"
Sebastian stopped in front of them and casually cleaned the blood from his blade with a piece of cloth torn from a dead soldier's cloak. His expression barely changed.
"Let's move."
His voice was calm.
"That captain said he was following orders. Means more soldiers will come once none of these bastards return to report and as you can see, no one is returning to report."
Yarvik blinked twice before immediately nodding.
"Aye.. aye sir."
The words slipped out before the dwarf even realized what he had said.
Faelorn slowly turned his head toward him.
Yarvik frowned.
"What?"
Sebastian actually looked amused for the first time since the fighting began.
"Sir?"
The dwarf grunted defensively.
"Well excuse me for showing manners to the fire demon that carved through twenty armored men like rotten cabbage."
The she-elf snorted quietly despite herself.
Faelorn rubbed a hand across his face before shaking his head slowly.
"I truly was one bad decision away from getting my entire company slaughtered…"
Sebastian slid the sword back into its scabbard.
"You would've deserved it if you turned out to be lying."
Faelorn barked out a laugh at that. Short and bitter.
"Fair enough."
For a few moments none of them spoke.
Only the sound of crackling embers and distant wind moving through scorched branches filled the clearing, then Faelorn's expression hardened again as he glanced toward the deeper forest.
"Both roads leading out of this forest are compromised now, I'm certain of it, they really want us dead."
He pointed toward the trees.
"Redanian patrols use them regularly. Once they discover this…" his eyes drifted briefly toward the corpses, "…they'll flood the woods with soldiers."
Sebastian nodded once.
"So your only escape route is underground."
Faelorn looked toward the cavern entrance behind them.
"Yes."
His tone lost some of its sarcasm now.
"There are ancient ruins beneath this place. A forgotten city of the Aen Seidhe buried long before the humans spread across these lands."
Even saying the words seemed to stir something in him. Pride perhaps. Or grief.
"We discovered the entrance sometime ago while hiding from Redanian scouts. The tunnels run deep beneath the forest. Deep enough that even we never dared fully explore them."
Sebastian's golden eyes narrowed slightly with interest.
"I noticed the wind tunnels earlier, and your people there could be in danger."
Faelorn gave him a sideways glance.
"You are correct, vatt'ghern, and that's why I ordered them not to venture there alone and wait for one of us to return."
Sebastian looked toward the dark mouth of the cavern.
"As long as your people stay behind me, we'll be fine."
The she-elf blinked.
"You're still helping us?"
Sebastian looked at her like the answer was obvious.
"You think I butchered an entire Redanian unit just to abandon you afterward?"
Yarvik grunted approvingly.
"That's the spirit!"
Faelorn stayed silent for several seconds before finally stepping forward.
The Scoia'tael commander extended his forearm slowly.
"Thank you, witcher. Truly."
Sebastian looked at the offered arm for a moment before clasping it firmly.
"No need."
Their forearms separated.
"I just want to get your people somewhere safe."
Faelorn nodded once.
Then he turned toward the cavern entrance.
"Move!" he barked toward Yarvik and the she elf behind him. "Take only essentials. We leave immediately."
Sebastian stood near the entrance watching them descend into the darkness below.
Then, after one final glance toward the battlefield behind him, he followed.
The cavern swallowed them whole, and the hidden passage descended far deeper than Sebastian had expected.
The moment they crossed beyond the narrow stone corridor beneath the cavern, the air itself changed.
It got colder, with moisture everywhere and the scent of moss that had not been disturbed in centuries.
The flickering torchlight carried by the Scoia'tael painted the walls in trembling gold, revealing carvings worn smooth by time. Elegant elven symbols spiraled across cracked stone pillars half-swallowed by roots. Here and there shattered statues stood buried in the walls, faces broken, eyes hollow.
It felt more like a grave than a ruin.
Boots echoed softly against the ancient stone while the Scoia'tael and Seb moved cautiously through the darkness.
Sebastian walked near the front beside Faelorn, silver sword resting over his shoulder, senses sharp.
The deeper they went, the more wrong the place felt, it was abandoned in a way that made the skin crawl.
Behind him he heard softer footsteps quicken slightly before finally stopping beside him.
"Witcher… may I have a word?"
Sebastian glanced sideways.
The she-elf archer walked there quietly now, her hood lowered from her silver hair, bow hanging at her side. Without the tension of battle she looked younger than he first thought. Tired too.
Seb slowed his pace slightly.
"What is it?"
For a moment she seemed unsure how to begin, then she exhaled through her nose.
"I wished to thank you."
Sebastian raised an eyebrow slightly.
"You already did."
"Not properly."
Her eyes lowered briefly.
"When I found you in the forest…" she said quietly, "I thought you were just another hired killer. A mutant paid in crowns to hunt elves through the woods."
A faint bitter smile crossed her lips. "And truthfully… you let me capture you far too easily, I had suspected that, but I was too prideful to admit it."
Yarvik barked a laugh somewhere behind them.
"I'll be damned, what a day this is!"
She ignored him and continued.
"I struck you with my hand and sword like some triumphant fool while you pretended to fall unconscious." She shook her head softly. "Then later you still fought for us after hearing our side of the story.."
She stared at him then she spoke more quietly.
"We were prepared to die out there."
Seb looked at her.
"All of us," she admitted. "We knew there was no escaping Redanians once they found this place. We would have fought because that is all we know anymore… but none of us truly believed we would survive for long, we came all this way from Temeria, we kept getting pushed from one place to another..."
Her fingers tightened slightly around her bow.
"You stood in front of people you barely knew and fought for us anyway, no human did that for us."
Sebastian looked ahead again toward the darkness.
Torchlight reflected softly in his cat-like eyes.
"Don't thank me for doing what I was going to do regardless."
Then after a moment he added with a faint smile,
"And stop calling me Witcher every sentence. Makes me sound... I don't know, weird I guess. Sebastian's fine. Or Seb."
That finally earned a real smile from her.
"Lunethiel," she said. "But most call me Lune."
"Lune," Seb repeated with a nod.
Behind them Yarvik suddenly grinned beneath his beard.
"Oho… names already?"
Faelorn immediately shot the dwarf a deadpan look.
"Mind your business Yarvik."
Yarvik raised both hands innocently.
"What? I'm just appreciating diplomacy."
Lune rolled her eyes.
Eventually the corridor widened, then widened again.
Until finally they emerged into a massive underground chamber.
The Scoia'tael refugees waiting there immediately stood at attention.
Dozens of eyes turned toward them at once.
Elves clutching bows, dwarves gripping axes.
Women holding frightened children close.
The relief that flooded the room at seeing Faelorn alive was immediate.
Voices erupted all at once.
"Commander!"
"Yarvik!"
"Lune!"
Then their eyes settled on Sebastian.
Silence spread much faster after that.
The blood soaked witcher standing among them did little to ease nerves.
Especially when his armor still carried marks and dried blood from the massacre above, a few hands instinctively tightened around weapons.
Faelorn noticed immediately.
The scarred elf stepped forward before anyone could speak.
"What the fuck are you trying to do?! He is the reason we still breathe."
That silenced even the whispers.
Faelorn's voice echoed steadily through the ancient chamber.
"The Redanians outnumbered us, over twenty soldiers and he stood against them while we simply stood there and watched."
Disbelief spread across several faces, one elf scoffed quietly.
"A single witcher against twenty armored men?"
Yarvik barked a laugh.
"Aye. Then he got bored halfway through! You should have seen it!"
A few nervous chuckles escaped the room, others still looked uncertain.
Faelorn's expression hardened immediately.
"I saw it myself." The Scoia'tael captain slowly turned toward his people.
"This whole thing happened because of them, the village burning was not our doing. The Redanians slaughtered those peasants for trading with us. The witcher and I simply discovered the truth before we ended up killing one another over their lies."
Faelorn continued calmly.
"But the soldiers above are dead. But more will come once none return to report."
That killed whatever relief had begun forming.
"We move through the ruins," Faelorn said firmly. "We find another way out before Redanians flood this forest."
An older elf looked uneasily toward the deeper darkness of the ruins.
"Commander… the lower paths are cursed.."
"Maybe," Faelorn answered. "But staying here guarantees death."
Then his gaze swept across the room.
"And hear me clearly."
His voice became iron.
"Whoever refuses to trust the witcher may remain behind and forfeit their life alone." Even Sebastian glanced at him briefly.
Faelorn rarely spoke with that kind of tone to his people.
Sebastian stepped forward slightly after that, his voice calm. "I'll lead you safely out of this place, I promise you that much."
The room watched him carefully.
A blood-covered Witcher standing beneath ancient elven ruins promising protection, it would seem absurd, yet after what Faelorn described… nobody could quite dismiss him either.
/-\
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