Kaer Morhen was as calm and peaceful as ever.
Larks(T/N: A type of bird) sang in the woods surrounding the castle. The warm sun cast its golden rays, carried by the cool mountain breeze that had crossed rivers and peaks, quietly slipping through a half-open window of the grey-white stone fortress.
Inside the tidy room, someone was also singing.
"...Shai—Sara—Moiraes—"
A clear, ethereal voice chanted a melody that did not seem of this world.
The bright sunlight flickered gently in rhythm, while faint green light shimmered like the crystalline waters of Lake Killer, spreading ripples through the air.
Where the ripples passed, the vines climbing the castle walls began to grow visibly, creeping into the wooden window frame and blooming with pale yellow flowers.
The plants and herbs in the room flourished even more vigorously, their life force almost becoming tangible.
No one knew how long it lasted before the pleasant singing slowly faded.
"All right…"
The singer took a deep breath, exhaled a long sigh, and then opened her blue eyes half-hidden behind strands of golden hair, smiling with a flash of small, neat white teeth.
"Yennefer, how do you feel this time?"
Only then did it seem as though a second person appeared in the room.
In the dim corner far from the window, where no sunlight reached, crouched a small figure wrapped entirely in black silk.
"Very comfortable," a small, gentle voice—barely more than a whisper—floated out. Perhaps feeling that her answer was too short, too insincere, she reached behind her back, tracing from her neck to her waist, and added, "Here… the places Lady Mary mentioned—the thoracic, cervical, and lumbar areas—they all feel tingly, like a cool breeze is blowing softly through my bones…"
"It's much… much lighter than before. I can almost straighten my back completely now… Lady Mary!"
"Let me take a look…" Mary suddenly approached, making Yennefer shrink back instinctively. But with the wall behind her, she had nowhere to retreat and was caught immediately.
The black silk was lifted away, revealing a small figure whose back had once been hunched, her scalp patchy, her body covered in bony growths and tumors that made her hideous. Now, the growths and bald patches had completely vanished. Though her back still curved slightly, it was far straighter than before.
The bony protrusions beneath her shoulders still raised the fabric slightly, but compared to how she had been in the village near Vengerberg when Allen first bought her, the improvement was immense.
And all these changes had taken place in only a few short days.
Even after examining her every day, Mary still could not suppress her inner astonishment and confusion.
Because of her background, she had been sent to Aretuza for magical training as soon as her talent was discovered. She had never suffered the pain and deformities caused by chaotic magic accumulating in the body—twisting bones and flesh.
But she had seen many cases like Yennefer's at Aretuza…
No—far too many.
Even in Temeria, home of the Continent's only academy for female mages, the ignorant common folk still deeply misunderstood magic.
Most gifted girls had already endured the torment of chaotic energy before being discovered by a wandering sorceress—who might buy them, take them in, or rescue them, depending on whether it was a city, a village, or a ruin—before sending them to Aretuza.
Of course, those less fortunate—devoured entirely by chaos, starved to death, beaten to death, or even burned as demons—were the true majority.
After leaving Aretuza with Lady Vera, Mary had seen countless tragic cases…
Even for the lucky ones, it took years of agonizing effort to untangle the chaos within them.
To reach Yennefer's current state would be impossible without three or four years of work.
How could a single strange song have done this? Even though Mary herself had mastered the Breath-Song of the Maiden of Spring, she could not explain it with all the knowledge she possessed.
"What a lucky child…" Mary murmured to herself, looking at Yennefer's now smoother, fairer face.
"Lady Mary?" The young mage felt uneasy under Mary's gaze, her small hands—spotted faintly with dark marks—tightening around the black cloth.
Mary came back to her senses, gently pulling up the black silk cloth to cover Yennefer again.
"You're recovering very well. Most of the stagnant chaotic magic has already returned to its proper flow within your circuits. In another half a month, you should be completely back to normal."
"Really?!" Yennefer lifted her head, her violet eyes lighting up instantly.
"As real as it gets," Mary said with a smile, ruffling Yennefer's hair, now growing thick and soft again. Seeing the girl improve day by day under her care made her even happier than receiving praise from Lady Vera. "And…"
"Once the chaotic magic is fully sorted out, your progress in magic study will also speed up. Considering your talent…"
Mary clicked her tongue in admiration.
"Tsk, tsk… I feel like you'll soon catch up to me, surpass me, and maybe even surpass Lady Vera one day…"
Yennefer lowered her head shyly at those words, but a faint spark of anticipation flickered in her clear, bright eyes.
Then, remembering that all these changes had been possible because of the sorceress before her, she whispered timidly, "Thank you, Lady Mary."
The woman addressed as Lady Mary smiled even more brightly, her large blue eyes curving like crescent moons.
"No need to thank me. The Breath-Song of the Maiden of Spring was something Allen taught me. I'm just singing two songs a day…"
"If you really want to thank someone, you should thank him more."
Yennefer stayed silent.
Only outsiders needed thanks. Since Allen had bought her—from "him"—she belonged to Allen now.
When her mother was still alive, their home once had a small dog.
That little dog was never thanked by her mother or "him" for guarding the house or scaring off a few thieves, nor did the dog ever say "thank you" for the leftover food it was fed every day.
Mother had said, family didn't need to thank each other. So, naturally, Yennefer wouldn't thank Allen either.
Once she learned powerful magic, she too would guard the house for him—just like the little dog did.
Yennefer had her own stubborn, somewhat peculiar way of understanding how she should relate to people and the world.
"By the way," Mary said softly, long used to Yennefer's bouts of silence. A touch of pity crossed her face. "Speaking of Allen—he and Vesemir have both wanted to come see you. But every time, you've avoided them…"
"I'm not forcing you to show yourself. But once your chaotic magic is fully stabilized, you should meet them. Don't make them worry."
Yennefer was silent for a few seconds, then nodded her small head.
Mary smiled gently, rubbing Yennefer's hair before standing up.
"That's all for today. I've already placed the Dialogue on the Nature of Magic parchment and your notes on the desk. The engravings for magic and elemental perception are there too…"
"Study well. Lady Vera will inspect you the day after tomorrow. Also…"
"While the Breath-Song works wonders, sorting through chaotic magic is also a great chance to understand the essence of magic and the elements. Don't waste it."
"I understand, Lady Mary," Yennefer said earnestly, nodding.
Mary stood up from the small table where the books were laid out. Yennefer naturally rose from the corner, walked over, sat down, picked up the huge parchment book that seemed larger than herself, and began to read it silently.
Seeing this scene, Mary sighed again.
Yennefer staying curled up in the corner wasn't because there was any ritual circle there to aid in channeling chaotic magic, nor because their relationship was still too distant. In fact, such a curled-up posture wasn't even good for clearing the stagnant chaos within her magic circuits.
It was just that…
"I'm used to staying here… it feels safer… is that not okay?"
That was Yennefer's own words.
Why would someone become used to sitting in a corner?
And why would she actually feel safer there?
Mary couldn't help but recall that ordinary little courtyard — the ragged, drunken fisherman, and the Yennefer who was beaten and kicked.
How could she bring herself to refuse her?
"Forget it. If she's used to staying in the corner, then let her stay in the corner…" Mary thought to herself. "The effect of the Breath-Song is strong enough. It'll just take a day or two longer. As for the rest…"
She looked past the black cloth wrapped around Yennefer's head, toward the window behind the stack of books.
On the windowsill, climbing vines covered in tiny yellow blossoms trembled gently in the clear mountain breeze.
"Time always heals everything…"
——
Click~
The door closed softly as Mary stepped out of the inner room.
Yennefer, still holding the thick parchment book, didn't say a word. She looked exactly like one of those Aretuza Academy apprentices who appeared to be studying but were actually hiding behind massive tomes to sneak in a nap.
But in truth, Yennefer was frighteningly disciplined — she needed no supervision at all.
A born sorceress. That was the evaluation Lady Vera had given her after several tests.
Even Mary herself had never been praised by Vera like that — well, actually, Vera had never praised her at all.
But Mary didn't feel jealous of Yennefer.
As Agnes of Glanville — the only female founder of Chapter of the Gift and the Art — once said: "Some people's talent comes from destiny's favor, while others steal their talent from the hands of Death himself. The latter kind of gift is the one most worthy of awe."
Discipline and diligence were also a kind of talent—no less valuable than a gift of magical origin. But the source of that kind of talent was rarely something to be envied.
At least, on the path of magic, Mary—whose own journey had always been smooth—certainly did not envy it.
Stepping out of the inner chamber brought her into the alchemy room. The warm early autumn sunlight filtered through the slats of the shutters, sending golden rays into the room.
The alchemy room was empty, with only dust dancing in the clean shafts of light.
Mary didn't do any alchemy, didn't read, and didn't sort through ingredients. Instead, she slipped quietly across the room, pressing her ear against the copper door.
"Good, no sound."
With a small sigh of relief, she walked to the second alchemy table near the west side of the door, crouched down, pulled out two baskets full of dried dandelions and wolfsbane, and then dragged out a small, finely crafted pouch bulging with contents.
As soon as the pouch was pulled out, Mary tilted her head to listen again, then took it out completely and slung it over her shoulder, exhaling deeply as if she had just completed some great and difficult feat.
It was obvious she was hiding from someone.
She was hiding from Vera.
After strapping on the pouch, Mary quickly opened the alchemy room door, peeked her small head into the dim and empty corridor, glanced around, then slipped out carefully, closing the door as quietly as she could, as if afraid to make even the slightest sound.
Then, with practiced steps, she started up toward the third floor.
"I'm really too smart," Mary said smugly as her foot touched the first step. "Act first, explain later. Once I rescue Hen Gedymdeith, what can the mentor do even if she disagrees?"
"She adores Allen. If Allen says a few words for me, nothing bad will happen."
"What was it Allen always says…?"
"Right! A perfect plan!"
"Hehehe! I'm a genius!"
Vera might still be terrifying, but Lady Mary had found the way to deal with her.
Just as necrophage oil worked on Drowners, specter oil worked on wraiths, and hybrid oil worked on griffins… Allen was Vera's weakness!
"But really, Mentor goes too far," Mary grumbled inwardly. "I'm already grown up, yet she still controls me so strictly."
"With this newly learned air-element spell alone, I could easily qualify for a seat in the Intermediate Council. A few more years of effort, and I might even move up to the High Council…"
"And who is Philippa Eilhart, anyway?"
"Vera actually trusted her to accompany Allen on such a dangerous mission to rescue Hen Gedymdeith…"
Just thinking of Philippa Eilhart made Vera irritated.
It wasn't that she doubted Philippa's strength—the Brotherhood's itinerant sorceresses were undoubtedly powerful. That much was certain.
But Philippa Eilhart's attitude was the real problem!
"A woman who, for the sake of a fallen king, neglects her preparation, argues with Archmistress Tissaia, and disappears all day roaming around Kaer village…"
"How could she possibly be allowed to go with Allen on such an important rescue mission?!"
Yes, Vera didn't like Philippa Eilhart.
Of course.
That dislike had absolutely nothing to do with how Philippa would turn into an owl and perch habitually on Allen's shoulder when he returned, nor with how she stayed with Allen every night, and certainly not because a certain young priestess from the Temple of Melitele had already made their relationship crowded enough to leave no room for a third person…
It was purely because of Philippa Eilhart's irresponsible attitude.
Margarita Laux-Antille didn't feel at ease entrusting her commander to a sorceress like Philippa Eilhart.
Whatever Philippa Eilhart could do, Margarita Laux-Antille could certainly do—and do even better!
Thinking this, Mary arrived at the door of a third-floor room.
She stood there for a moment, going over the persuasive lines she had prepared for days to convince Allen, and then lightly knocked on the wooden door.
After a moment—
Creak~
The finely carved wooden door groaned open.
.........
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