Sebastian sat across from Gundar, the mask resting on the counter between them, Gundar leaned forward, his thick fingers tracing the runes on the mask's surface with surprising delicacy. His voice, when he spoke, was low and serious.
"This mask," Gundar said, "can be used by a powerful mage to open portals between worlds. But its usage is very hard and limited."
Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "Limited how?"
"The power it requires is immense," Gundar continued. "A normal mage would exhaust themselves tryin' to open even a small doorway. An' the focus needed... it's beyond most. But.." he paused, his eyes meeting Sebastian's, "...for the bearer o' the Elder Blood, it's different."
Sebastian's heart quickened. He kept his expression neutral.
"The mask," Gundar said, "Allows the one with the Elder Blood to control their powers quite easily while using it. It calms their mind, helps them focus on their destination. They don't really need it to force their powers, it helps them focus." He shrugged. "So it is a tool, not a crutch."
Sebastian stared at him. The dwarf spoke with the confidence of someone who had studied these matters deeply, who understood the intricacies of this type of ancient magic in a way that was far beyond the ken of a simple merchant or smith.
"Were you a student of a mage?" Sebastian asked, his voice carefully controlled. "This kind of knowledge is on the level of very powerful mages, possible a sage, or an elven sage."
Gundar's smile was thin. "I just know, focus on what ye really want to know, no' the unimportant details of how I know them."
Sebastian's jaw tightened. He did not like being deflected, but he needed answers.
"Fair enough," Sebastian said slowly. "So you know how to use this mask? You a mage of some kind? Since you said that anyone can use it but it has its limitations. This would be a great tool to teleport between worlds, or just jump long distances in this world."
Gundar shook his head. "By limitations, I mean limitations based on the user itself. The mask is of infinite use, but it can still be destroyed."
Sebastian's eyes flicked to the mask. "Good to know, I'll be careful with it, then. You never know when I'll need it."
"Like I said," Gundar repeated, "only the one with Elder Blood can use it to its maximum potential. It calms their mind, helps them focus and use their powers more effectively."
Sebastian was quiet for a moment, with a smile on his face, an expression that he could not quite suppress.
'This will be great for Ciri,' he thought. 'Since she still struggles with her powers. Glad I acquired it. It would be a perfect gift during winter.'
Gundar's eyes narrowed. He had seen the smile.
"I assume ye have someone in mind," Gundar said, almost with an amused tone. "When I mentioned Elder Blood."
Sebastian's smile vanished. His expression shuttered. "What? Who could possibly have the Elder Blood? I'm smiling because it sounds absurd."
Gundar did not look away, his eyes seemed to see through Sebastian's walls.
"For example," Gundar said, his voice soft but clear, "the Cintrian princess. Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon."
The name hit Sebastian like a physical blow, his eyes went wide. His hand moved before his mind could catch up, his silver sword clearing its scabbard at a terrifying speed, the blade pressed against Gundar's throat, the edge drawing a thin line of blood that beaded and ran down the dwarf's thick neck.
Sebastian's eyes burned with fire. Literally, flames flickered in his irises, his entire body was wreathed in flames, the air around him turned hot.
"How do you know about her!" Sebastian's voice was low, but threatning. "And don't tell me the same bullshit again. This time you explain, or I cut off your head. The people that know about her aren't that many. I can't take this as a coincidence anymore...a random dwarf in the middle of Novigrad knowing such a secret.."
He pushed the sword forward, just a fraction. The blood on Gundar's neck grew thicker.
"Speak!" Sebastian snarled, "or I will kill you this instant. Who or what the fuck are you? And how do you know about Cirilla!"
Gundar did not flinch. He did not tremble, he looked at Sebastian with eyes that held no fear. "Well, Arven Var Winneburg of Nilfgaard," Gundar said, his voice calm, "or should I say, Witcher Sebastian of the School of the Wolf. There are some things that you simply have no right to ask. Or rather" he smiled, "...better not to know, for your own sake."
Sebastian's eyes widened. 'Arven Var Winneburg.' That name, that was his birth name, the name he had not heard since he was a child, the name he had buried alongside his late parents, and with his memories of the south.
"I was more than willing to help ye," Gundar continued, "for free, no charge. But here ye are, threatenin' me with a silver sword."
He laughed.
And Sebastian pulled back the sword, staring at it. There were no burns on the dwarf's neck other than the scar he left, no sign that it had touched anything that was weak to silver.
Sebastian whispered to himself 'He is no doppler... No monster that is vulnerable to silver...'
Gundar straightened his collar, wiping the thin line of blood with the back of his hand. His expression was still calm despite everything.
"I'll ask ye to leave now," Gundar said. "Nicely and clearly, you need some fresh air."
Sebastian stared at him for a long moment. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The dwarf knew about Ciri, he knew about Sebastian's past. He knew things that no one should know.
But he was not a monster.
Sebastian sheathed his sword. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the shop.
The afternoon sun was bright and unforgiving. Sebastian blinked in the sudden light, his mind still churning with questions and doubts and the lingering echo of Gundar's laughter.
He did not get far.
Three men were waiting for him outside the Gilded Anvil, their faces hard, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. They formed a loose semicircle around him, blocking his path.
"Witcher," one of them said. "It seems you have acquired something our boss wanted."
Sebastian's expression did not change, his hand did not move toward his sword.
"This is really not the time," Sebastian said.
The men drew their swords, steel gleamed in the afternoon light.
"The mask," the leader said. "Our boss wants it, at first we thought it was Sigi who took it, but the boss was right. And there it is...in your hands."
Sebastian looked at them, three men, armed and confident.
"Get out of my way," Sebastian said.
They did not move.
But Sebastian did, it was over in seconds. He did not draw his sword. He did not need to. The knife he kept tucked in his trousers appeared in his hand as if by magic, a small blade that flashed in the sunlight. He moved between them like a shadow, his body flowing around their attacks, his knife finding flesh with precision. A slash across the first man's sword hand. A stab through the second man's shoulder. A pommel strike to the third man's head.
None of them died. But all three fell, their blood pooling on the cobblestones, their groans of pain filling the air.
Sebastian did not look back, he stepped over their bodies, mounted his mare, and rode off without a word.
Sebastian's expression was carved from stone, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
'He knew about Ciri.He knew about me.He even knew my birth name... I'm starting to hate this place..'
Sebastian's jaw tightened, his hands gripped the reins so hard his knuckles went white.
'Who is he? What is he?'
He did not have answers. He only had questions.
'This Dwarf is extremely dangerous, I can tell that much. Maybe Djikstra can find out something about him, I owe him a favor I'll do that for him, and I'll find out about this damn Dwarf one way or the other.'
/-\
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