“How did you get here? I’m not sure,” she chuckles. “How did-” her voice cracks, breaks and the woman gives her more water. She feels a pang of something she doesn’t want to think about, shoves it down, ignores it. “The closest city is Rivia, but it’s about a day’s walk from here.” The woman winces in sympathy at the rough strain of her voice. The woman offers more water and she drinks greedily. Yennefer’s throat aches and clicks as she swallows, trying to get it to work. I didn’t expect you to survive the first night, let alone wake up so soon.” She can make out the older woman’s smile as she says, “You’re certainly stronger than one might think. She blinks once twice and three times before the blurs around her begin to take shape. The light is painful, but so is everything else about the world she’s holding onto so tightly. It clings and she drags herself out of the soft warm dark nothing, forcing her eyes open, fumbling blindly.Ī shift of someone’s weight and a stranger’s voice making quiet promises that she’s safe she’s far away from the danger now. Her body tries to slip away again, but there is just enough left of her mind to cling to the feeling of sheets against her skin and blessedly cool air against her face. The gentle press of metal against her lips comes third, the gentle coaxing fourth, and the relief that is water spilling down her dry throat fifth. Pain comes second, but she is familiar with it. Warmth comes first, and she revels in it. Sleep, the honey sweet voice says, and she does. She is the sky and the starlight and the earth and the stone. She is everything, then she is the velvet dark or she is wrapped in it. The last rattling breath in a dying thing’s chest.Ĭlose your eyes, someone says, and it sounds like her mother. Until she is ash and brittle charred wood. She is everything and she is everything and she is the end of it all.
She is the orange glow staining the night sky.
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