Reincarnation ➵ The Witcher

xxvii.

"PROMISE me you won't take it off, Edith." Edith's younger gaze situated on the woman above her, who stood over her with stern, pointed irises.

"Yes, mommy." Edith's hands fiddled with the bracelet that sat comfortably around her wrist, words written on the outside in a language she didn't understand. Her mother's gaze softened the littlest inch, but Edith could see her wary glances towards her hands every now and then.

"Promise me. Even if someone tells you to take it off, you will never, ever remove it."

"I-I promise," Her mother a small smile, but Edith was confused, "why do I have to wear it, mommy? No one else in the village has one."

The words got stuck in the woman's throat, "..Because you aren't like anyone else in the village, child."

Her eyebrows furrowed, "Is there something wrong with me, mommy? Am I ill?"

"Of, of course not, Edith. W-Why would you think that, sweet?"

"The kids down at the market call me names and they never want to play with me." Edith watched her mother crouch down to be at her level, hands fiddling with the metal now attatched to her wrist.

Her mother gazed down at her in worry, watching the sadness creep across her eyes, "..What do they say?"

"They call me a m-monster, mommy. Am I a monster?"

Her mother froze for a second, and debated the choice of answer, "N-no," she began, throat clogged in grief, "People are just afraid of the, uh, things they don't understand."

That's the first time her mother had ever lied to her.

Edith's eyes opened to the scene before her, the dream planting the image of a woman she'd never met before, but somehow felt attached to. Her hands were still painfully kept above her, but the anger she felt once before was completely diminished and left a banging headache in it's wake. A blonde haired elf stood before them now, and Edith sighed in annoyance. For Hell's sake.

"And now the humans proudly watch these very fields grow.. our babies fertilizer for their grain."

Anger coated his words, "I don't wish to bury anyone else. I was once Filavandrel of the Silver Towers. Now I'm Filavandrel of the Edge of the World. If I bring my people down from these mountains, it would mean bowing to human sovereignty. They'll make slaves of us. Pariahs of half-blood children."

Geralt hadn't noticed Edith's awakened state, "Then go somewhere else." His golden eyes were solely locked onto the elf, "Rebuild. Get strong again. Show the humans that you are more than what they fear you to be."

"Like you, Witcher?"

His gaze briefly glanced at Edith's figure in routine, "I have learned to live with them. So that I may live."

The female elf stood up, "Please, my King. There are others. A new generation. Evellien who wish to fight!" She hissed in vengeance, "Let us take back what's ours. Starting now."

Edith watched the King unseath a dagger from his side, and an icy cold fear locked her limbs. Her eyes made contact with Geralt's golden own, and this only increased her heartbeat in trepidation.

"Wait!" The creature intervened.

The elf shrugged him off, "Torque, stand aside!"

"The witcher could've killed me. But he didn't. He's different." Torque pointed to himself, "Like us."

The King only pushed him away harshly.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you." Edith spoke up, and the Elf gazed at her briefly over his shoulder.

"Be quiet, girl."

Geralt remained indifferent, "If you must kill me.. I am ready." His golden eyes glowed, and Edith knew if they got out of this situation she would be giving him a stern talking to. Suicidal maniac!

"But the Sylvan's right." He continued, "Don't call me human."

Edith watched as the King approached both the bard and Geralt, blade preparing to swing down on the both of them. She began to struggle in her binds, anger beginning to resurface.

"Don't fucking touch them you Elven bastard!" Edith screamed in frustration, watching as Geralt seemed to accept his fate. The binds were rubbing Edith's hands raw from her struggle, but this did little to stop her. But it was futile.

She closed her eyes, tears brimming in the corner of her eyes as she awaited their death. But it didn't come. Instead, she heard the sound of the rope falling to the ground helplessly, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips. She opened her eyes and they locked with the familiar comfort of golden. Thank the Gods.