The Human (A Witcher Fanfic)

Chapter 5: An Outlaw By Circumstance

The morning sunlight spread across the bustling town as its inhabitants fan out like ants, weaving around the streets and alleys. Everyone has a place to be and every day the world turns. Ves was no different. Her eyes peered open to the ceiling of her room at the inn, light wood planks and panels. She wasn't even able to escape her harsh reality in her dreams, her sleep was devoid of such. No quicker did she fall to sleep did she wake. She stood up and sat in a chair by the window and waited. She watched the townspeople rush around, the sight of farmers and fishermen, of horse drawn carriages and kids playing. She wondered how many of them had their own worlds falling slowly apart at the seams. How many took for granted their intact worlds. She waited.

An hour, then two, then three. The morning began to bleed into midday and still no word from the Witcher Aubry. Sitting and waiting turned into pacing, turned into fidgeting. Tried of waiting, she got up and went to his room. One knock, two, then three and four. No word, no nothing. She reluctantly went inside and there was no sign of Aubry anywhere. "Did he leave without me?" She thought, but soon remembered he couldn't have known where Ambra even was. A confusion washed over her and then fear. She rushed out of the room and downstairs.

The main room wasn't full but far from empty, in a panic Ves blurted out "has anyone seen the Witcher?" In a voice stricken with anxiety. An older gentleman at a table nearby, seeming half buzzed, replied with a chuckle "the Witcher" with a sarcastic shrug. Before saying that he saw him leave last night and hadn't seen him since. Just then the panic in Ves became deep seeded, the tendrils stretching and twirling right down to her core. Wind was gone, the Witcher was gone and she was far away from home. She sprinted outside into the street.

She ran around the town frenzied, bumping into passerbyers and nearly tripping every other step, asking anyone with ears where the blacksmith was. Surely the Witcher is just there getting his sword sharpened, she thought. Some ignored her, some were rude but some pointed her this way and the other. She finally found it and rushed to the big man hammering an anvil but to her dismay, he hadn't seen any man fitting her description of Aubry. He assured her if he did need a place for a sharper blade, this was it.

Ves began to cry, she was alone and the savior of her village had vanished. Her ears became muffled and she closed her eyes hard. She squeezed them tight. When the sound came back to her the first thing she recognized was a horse on a hitching post in front of the blacksmiths shop. Ves didn't take long to think but she did think. She knew she needed to get home, Ambra's last hope was gone and she didn't know what else to do. She ran over, unhitched the stranger's horse and hopped on, riding full speed away.

The blacksmith, along with a man from the building next door ran outside. She was unclear who's horse she'd just stolen but they both looked angry and gave chase. She apologized under her breath but she was out of options. She squeezed her legs tight and whipped the horse's reins, focusing on the road ahead.

She weaved around pedestrians and zoomed past shops and onlookers. Nearly falling off on several occasions. She wasn't a horse rider, nor exactly subtle, as the town guards draped in bluish hued leather armor took immediate notice. They hailed and waved and even tried grabbing Ves but she was too fast. But not quite fast enough, as she approached the outer gate, two guards had seen the commotion and drug barrels and fencing to block off the exit. Equipped with bows, they took aim. Ves continued to ride ahead, she didn't have any other choice. She closed her eyes and kicked hard. Her black hair flowing in the wind of the trampling steed accelerating.

They opened fire! Arrows whizzed through the air, one flying only inches from her head unbeknownst to her. Another grazing Ves' left thigh as she winced in pain. The horse was fueled on instinct and he jumped over the barricade, even knocking over one guard and making it out of the outer gate in a puff of dust as hooves met the dirt road. Ves finally opened her eyes and peeked back. The guards didn't have time to gather horses and pursue, thankfully. Ves sighed in relief before feeling the pain in her leg return. She looked down and saw there was a decent sized gash. Without stopping she ripped part of her shirt off and wrapped it around her thigh. She couldn't waste time, it was a long ride home.

Vesless couldn't help but reflect on how things unfolded. She was increasingly angry with her naivety. She felt like the dumbest person in all of Velen. And that Witcher, how dare he pull the wool over her eyes so tightly. Swaddling her into complacency and swindling her out of every last cent of Ambra's wealth. Tears came forcefully, both in sadness and anger. "The Witcher fraud was a thief but am I any better?" She thought, riding this stolen horse. She panicked, she didn't think at all until now. And what will she tell everyone when she gets home? In frustration she brings her fist down onto her leg hard.

She briefly thought about going somewhere, anywhere else. Some place far away and starting a new life. The thought of seeing the disappointment on everyone's faces, the wraith of Etnis and the hopelessness of her mother was nearly enough to convince her to run away, but as cowardly as she felt, to do that would be unforgivable.

She patted the jet black coat of the stolen stallion as a sign of gratitude. Ves always wanted a horse. There's one positive in only really watching the world around you and keeping to yourself. Even though she hasn't ridden a horse before she picked up the gist of it over the years. But she knew she couldn't keep this one. "I promise I'll get you back to your owner one day." She said with a half smile as she gave it another pat. In the meantime, she thought, it needed a name at least. She figured since this horse saved her life, what would be a more fitting name than a true hero who's saved her life before. "I'll call you Lance." She said, "After my father."