A dawn of a new day crept over Novigrad, painting the sky in shades of rose and gold that filtered through the window of Sebastian's tavern room. He sat cross-legged on the bed, his eyes closed, his breathing slow, the mask lay beside him, he had been meditating through the night.
Sebastian had not slept. He had not needed to, the meditation had been enough, a deep, centering practice that Vesemir had taught him, a way to quiet the mind and restore the body without the vulnerability of unconsciousness. His thoughts had drifted through the events of the past days, sorting and filing, preparing for whatever came next.
He opened his eyes.
The room was bathed in soft golden light. The sounds of the city were just beginning to stir, the distant clatter of carts, the murmur of early risers, the cry of a merchant hawking his wares. "Time to go meet the idiot bard and Zoltan," Sebastian said to himself.
He rose, stretched, and dressed, the mask went into his belt, the swords onto his back, the small knife into his boot. He checked his gear, adjusted his straps, and stepped out into the morning.
.
.
.
The Passiflora was quieter in the morning, Sebastian found Dandelion and Zoltan in a private alcove near the back of the main hall. They were seated on plush velvet cushions, a table between them laden with cups and a half-empty bottle of wine. Dandelion was mid-conversation, his hands waving animatedly, he had been talking for some time.
"...why did Sigi's men bring us here?" Dandelion was saying. "I mean, one moment I'm composing a rather lovely sonnet about the Eternal Fire, which, I maintain, was entirely respectful and would have saved us, and the next I'm being escorted by Sigi's men out of prison without explanation?"
Zoltan snorted, his thick fingers wrapped around a tankard of something that smelled strong. "They mentioned that someone wishes to see us." He took a long drink, then set the tankard down with a satisfied thud. "I thought the temple guard were going to execute us in a week or so, after your last little adventure."
Dandelion waved a dismissive hand. "Relax, I told you it would pass and that it would be alright in the end. Besides, we..."
He fell silent, his eyes had found the doorway, where Sebastian stood with his arms crossed, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Hi," Sebastian said.
Dandelion's face went through a rapid series of expressions, confusion, recognition, disbelief, and finally, pure, unbridled joy. He shot to his feet, nearly overturning the table in his haste.
"Seb!" Dandelion exclaimed. "Seb?! How did you... I mean, how.." He rushed forward, his arms spread wide, and pulled Sebastian into an embrace that was both enthusiastic and slightly suffocating. "Seb! You are in Novigrad!"
Sebastian endured the hug, he was someone who had long ago accepted that Dandelion was incapable of restraint. "Good to see you too, Dandelion."
Zoltan rose more slowly, a warm smile spreading across his weathered face. "Little Sebastian," he said, "It's good to see you, pal."
Sebastian extracted himself from Dandelion's grip and clasped Zoltan's forearm in a firm handshake. "Good to see you both in good health considering where you were."
Zoltan's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Oh, I see now... What Sigi's men said, you are the one who wishes to meet us." He tilted his head. "What did you do for Sigi in order for him to pull this favor and release us?"
Sebastian shrugged, a faint smile playing at his lips. "Nothing too crazy. If you've heard the commotion yesterday, that was me."
Zoltan's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, we've heard it alright." He chuckled, shaking his head. "The bells ringing, words of fire in the city, the Temple Guard running about like headless chickens. Couldn't have been you?"
Sebastian's smile widened. "Could have been."
Dandelion, who had been bouncing on his heels with barely contained excitement, threw an arm around Sebastian's shoulders and pulled him close. "Never mind all that!" he declared. "How are you doing?! My, you got taller! A total lady-killer, I can tell!" He gestured expansively at the Passiflora around them. "No wonder you wanted to meet us here! We should party!"
Sebastian laughed, shaking his head. "I came to Novigrad knowing I'd find you here, since you like it here for some reason. It's been years since the last time you came to Kaer Morhen, after all." He paused. "But turns out, you were in trouble as usual, I had to help somehow."
Zoltan snorted. "This fool Dandelion had to run his big mouth about the Eternal Fire in the presence of a high-ranking priest and a bunch of Temple Guard."
Dandelion's expression shifted to one of wounded dignity. "In my defence, I was drunk! And what I said was not even wrong!" He puffed out his chest. "I merely said that.."
"Dandelion!" Zoltan's voice was sharp, warning.
Dandelion's shoulders slumped. "Right. My bad."
Sebastian laughed. "I missed this."
Zoltan grinned. "You missed him being halfwit?"
Sebastian shook his head. "Something like that."
Dandelion brightened immediately. "I know it's morning, but come! We must celebrate!" He grabbed Sebastian's arm and began pulling him toward a cluster of cushions and low tables. "Let's find a place to sit with the loveliest of girls here and get drunk we deserve that much!"
Sebastian allowed himself to be led. "I'll have a few drinks. Why not?"
Zoltan followed, his tankard still in hand. "After a week in a cell, I need a strong spirit too."
They settled into a comfortable alcove, and within moments, a group of women had gathered around them, their faces warm and welcoming, their laughter like music. Wine was poured, toasts were made, and Dandelion's voice rose above everyone, spinning tales that grew taller with each telling.
"And there I was," Dandelion declared, his hand pressed dramatically to his chest, "standing before a dozen soldiers, my wit was my only weapon, held high against the tide of their ignorance!"
One of the women, a redhead with a smile leaned forward. "And what happened then, Master Dandelion?"
Dandelion's eyes sparkled. "Why, I told them a story, of course! A story so moving, so profound, that they forgot their orders entirely. They laid down their swords and wept!"
The women laughed. Zoltan rolled his eyes and Sebastian took a long drink of his wine.
"Truly," Dandelion continued, his voice soaring with theatrical grandeur, "I have never doubted that words are stronger than steel. Why, if not for my timely intervention, Geralt would have been captured by an entire battalion of..."
"Is it true?" another woman asked, her eyes turning to Sebastian. "Is Master Dandelion really the savior of the white wolf?"
Sebastian met her gaze. His expression was serious, but there was a glint of amusement in his yellow eyes.
"It's all true," Sebastian said. "Dandelion is a hero, I've seen him save Geralt's life more times than I can count."
Dandelion preened. "You hear that, ladies? A witcher from the same school confirms it!"
Zoltan snorted into his tankard, but he did not contradict the story.
The women laughed and clapped, their attention returning to Dandelion, who launched into another tale of daring and wit.
Sebastian leaned back, his cup warm in his hands, and watched the scene unfold. It was good to see them. Dandelion, with his endless energy and his inability to take anything seriously. Zoltan, with his gruff wisdom and his steady, dependable presence, seeing them here, in this strange city, felt like a gift.
Dandelion turned to him, his face flushed with wine and enthusiasm. "Since you are a full-fledged witcher now," he said, "tell us a few of your stories!"
Sebastian shook his head, a modest smile on his face. "I'm not that interesting. I haven't done anything yet."
Dandelion's eyes widened with theatrical disbelief. "Not that interesting? Ha!" He turned to the women, his voice rising. "Listen here, ladies! This man here can quite literally generate.."
Zoltan's fist connected with Dandelion's shoulder, hard enough to make him wince. The dwarf coughed awkwardly, his eyes darting to Sebastian, then back to Dandelion.
"What Dandelion wants to say," Zoltan said, his voice forced and cheerful, "is that Seb is one of a kind, a truly remarkable witcher."
Dandelion's face lit up with understanding. "Right! Right!" He put a hand on his chest. "I have plenty of ideas for ballads to write about him as well, and they are all coming soon.."
Sebastian smiled toward Zoltan and Dandelion, gratitude in his eyes. They had not revealed anything, they had protected one of his secrets.
"I'm honored," Sebastian said.
Dandelion waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, don't be! We are friends, after all. And friends make each other famous!"
Zoltan sighed, shaking his head. "Oh boy. He's drunk."
Sebastian nodded. "He is."
Dandelion leaned forward, his expression shifting to something more serious. "Oh, right! Ciri! How is she? She was this tall the last time I saw her.." he held his hand at chest height, "...and she was already causing more trouble than an army of scoop..."
Sebastian's expression shuttered. "She is with Geralt, possibly in Temeria right now."
Dandelion's face split into a broad grin. "That's brilliant! We should go to Vizima then!"
Sebastian blinked. "No, no need." He paused, processing. "Wait, are you saying you're trying to accompany me?"
Dandelion spread his hands, a grand gesture of inevitability. "Why not? Nothing binds me here. Maybe it's time for another adventure, with another witcher."
Zoltan groaned. "Oh boy."
Sebastian stared at Dandelion for a long moment. Then he shook his head slowly with a smile. "I'll think about it for real when you're sober," Sebastian said.
/-\
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