Sebastian emerged from the treeline at the edge of the village of benek, his boots squelching in the mud, his clothes still bearing the faint scent of wolf's blood. His yellow eyes swept the square, and his eyes found his companions standing near the well, their expressions caught between relief and frustration.
Dandelion spotted him first. "Seb! There you are!" He began to hurry forward, then stopped, his face shifting to something more sheepish.
Zoltan crossed his thick arms, his bushy eyebrows drawn together. "We've been standing here like a pair of prize idiots."
Sebastian's brow furrowed. "What are you doing outside? I'm pretty sure I said.."
"Aye, we remember what you said," Zoltan cut in, "But the elder forced us out. Said we'd been snooping around that house for a suspiciously long time. Didn't want to discuss anything with the old cunt, so we just came out. Figured it was better than getting in the way of your plan, I think he suspects something."
Sebastian's expression relaxed slightly. "Well, it doesn't matter what he suspects anymore. Because I've already fulfilled my plan."
He gestured with his fingers toward the houses that lined the square. Dandelion and Zoltan followed his gaze, and their eyes widened.
Crows. They had gathered on the rooftops of ten huts, the elder's included, they were not moving.
Dandelion's mouth fell open. "Oh Right! This means.."
Zoltan's hand shot out, clamping over Dandelion's mouth. "Shhhh! Ye fucking dimwit! Do you want the whole village to hear you?!"
Dandelion's voice was muffled, but his eyes were still wide. "Mmph.. Sorry.. this means the marked ones are changed, right?"
Sebastian nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on the houses. "Yeah. The elder, Estrid's father, alongside eight others. Ten in total."
Dandelion's voice was low, almost reverent. "Just asking for one last time... you're sure all ten of them were part of that murder?"
Sebastian's expression was hard, unyielding. "Yeah. I've already confirmed it. The elder kind of confirmed it himself to me. Barely over fifty people live here. Ten of them are some of the oldest, the most superstitious, and the closest to the Elder. He recommended to me that if I wanted to know about the witch to help me with the curse, I should talk to them and not listen to the others because they 'know nothing.'"
Zoltan's voice was flat, "Right. The cunt and his accomplices."
Sebastian nodded slowly. "Again, no sign of the girl's lover..."
Dandelion's eyes darted toward the far end of the square. "Shh. There he is."
The elder was approaching.
He moved with the slow steps, his pale eyes fixed on Sebastian, and behind him, a small crowd of villagers had gathered, their faces carrying the same curiosity and wariness that had marked them since the moment Sebastian had arrived.
"Master Witcher," the elder said, his voice low and smooth. "How is your investigation? I hear that ye told old Ermin that I allowed ye to perform exorcisms for the people of this village..." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "When did I allow ye to do such a thing?"
Sebastian's expression remained calm, unruffled. "Right. You didn't. I just said that so they'd let me do my job without delay. I know your word here is respected. Your people listen to you."
The elder's eyes narrowed further. "Aye, they do. They also don't trust witchers and all manners of sorcerers. But I allowed ye to stay here in the village, to help us, and you were supposed to share whatever you found with me. You've been in that witch's house for too long. You've been going to the forest and returning." His voice hardened. "So I'll ask ye again. What did you find, Witcher?"
The villagers had gathered around them now, they formed a loose circle, their eyes fixed on the witcher and the elder, their whispers rising and falling.
Sebastian looked at the elder, then at the villagers, then back at the elder. He sighed a long, weary sound.
"A monster is the source of your curse," Sebastian said, "I've already shared this with you. But I lied about something."
He paused, letting the words sink in. The crowd fell silent, their eyes fixed on him.
"The girl you murdered had nothing to do with it," Sebastian continued, his tone filled with cold disgust. "You fools...you superstitious morons... you killed her by framing her as a witch and the source of your misfortune. When all you needed to do was hire a fucking Witcher, and you would have realized it was just a simple monster problem."
The crowd erupted into murmurs, their voices rising and falling with shock and denial. The elder's face went pale, his eyes widening.
Sebastian stepped closer to the elder, his yellow eyes blazing with fire. He pointed a finger at the elder's chest.
"Now the ones who killed her are marked by the Leshen," Sebastian said. "Since she was the marked one, you simply transferred the mark to yourselves by killing the poor girl. The girl who was supposed to be your boy's lover." His voice hardened. "And yes, I met her ghost. That's how I know everything."
The elder's face went white. He stepped back, his hand rising to his chest. "No... she was a witch. We were sure of it! And my boy was a fool! It is a rule not to get tangled up with witches! It only brings misfortune!"
Sebastian turned away, "I'm not even going to bother and explain.."
"Aye, we killed her!" the elder's voice cracked. "And I also killed me own son! For the village to survive in these woods, we all followed rules... rules we never crossed for generations! But they crossed those rules, and look where we ended up!"
The crowd gasped. Some looked shocked, ohers looked at the elder with dawning horror. And a few, a select few looked utterly unmoved.
Sebastian looked at the elder, his expression was profound disgust. Then he turned and walked away.
Zoltan and Dandelion fell into step beside him, their voices low and urgent.
"Did ye hear that?" Zoltan muttered, "The old bastard admitted it. Right there, in front of everyone!"
Dandelion nodded slowly. "He killed his own son.. for the village. How can anyone.."
Sebastian cut him off, his voice hard and certain. "Get on your horses. Ride toward Vizima ahead of me. I'll kill the leshen and.."
Zoltan's hand shot out, gripping Sebastian's arm. "Out of the question, lad. Get that monster, and then let's get the hell out of here. We'll be waiting for you here on horseback, ready to leave. I'll get Mare ready for you."
Sebastian looked at the dwarf, his expression softening. A small smile appeared. "Alright. Thanks." He paused, his eyes glinting with dark humor. "I mean... a Leshen's head would look good on Mare, don't you think?"
Zoltan laughed. "Aye, lad. It will look grand."
Sebastian turned and walked toward the forest, his silver sword in hand.
The elder watched him go, his face pale, his hands trembling. The villagers parted to let the witcher pass, their eyes following him as he disappeared into the shadows of the treeline.
The forest swallowed him whole the moment he stepped past the treeline. The grey light of the afternoon faded, replaced by the deep, dappled shadows of the ancient woods.
Sebastian walked with his silver sword drawn, his yellow eyes fixed on the path ahead. His medallion was trembling against his chest in a constant vibration and that meant magic and malevolence. He reached the clearing where the Leshen's totem stood. The blood circle he had drawn earlier was still there, a reminder of the ritual that had redirected the leshen's mark.
Sebastian approached the totem without hesitation. He raised his sword.
The blade came down in a single, powerful stroke, cleaving through the twisted wood and bone. The totem shattered, its pieces scattering across the clearing.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the ground trembled.
Sebastian turned, his sword raised, his yellow eyes scanning the shadows.
It emerged from the treeline, a being of ancient wood and bone, its body twisted and gnarled, its eyes burning with a cold, malevolent light. It was massive, towering above him, its antlers reaching toward the sky. It moved slowly like a being that had never known fear.
The Leshen.
It locked its gaze on Sebastian, its ancient eyes burning with fury. It understood what had been done. It knew that the witcher had redirected its mark, had stolen its prey, had defied its will.
Sebastian did not flinch. He raised his silver sword, ignited in flames, pointing it directly at the ancient creature.
"I kind of have a reason to hate your kind.." Sebastian said, "Now come forward."
/-\
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