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The woods were quiet today. Never a good sign. Světlana rode Mesiats throw the woods, following a trail. The monstrous head of a Kikimora dangled at the side of the ashen horse. They were heading to the nearest village in the hope of making some coin - for the Kikimora or other vise.
The autumn colored the leaves in warm shades, but it was still early for them to fall and make the forest floor wet and slippery. So Světlana rode her loyal friend with confidence in the saddle and determined to make it to the village by twilight. The only thing clouding Světlana's mind was the absence of birds chipping in the crowns, the cracking of fallen sticks by the wildlife. It was a pretty big cloud blocking the sun. Yet her medallion remained calm on her chest, unmoving.
As she was approaching the small town, she noticed several points hoarding her suspicions into a large knot curling in the pit of her stomach. She could hear some noise of life now, but they were mute somehow. She did not get down from the saddle as she neared the town square, nor she stopped listening for any unusual noises in this small and dirty town.
With every new street, she came across many new disturbing clues of what might await her at the centre of this place. Countless footprints in the mud coming out of town following much smaller ones overlapping with those suggesting a pair of shoes being dragged throw the dirt in the opposite direction. Someone was dragged and most likely against their will.
Maybe this was not the best time for her to come to this town. She wondered who was the unlucky one. A thief, murdered, non-human?
When she reached the outskirts of the surprisingly large square, she finally got down from her horse. With reins in her hand, Světlana went closer to the gibbet. The people, captured in their twisted fascination, let her permeate through, not noticing who she was or what her horse was carrying.
She was unable to make up who found their death here today. The sun sat low, and its rays blinded Světlanas sensitive eyes. With the hood low, the sun shined over the roofs, making it impossible to see. It was a man, that was all she gathered. But with every step, she was more and more scared to take another.
Like a pendulum swinging from side to side, Světlana's feet moved in a dreadful rhythm. And then she took one too many. The sunlight died down, hiding behind the roofs completely - now there was nothing to block her ability to see what she, deep down already knew.
Her brother hanged before her, stripped from his armour. Left in nothing but his underpants and his Cat medallion around his neck. The only thing that was supposed to be around his neck. No, this was not true.
"Gaetan," she breathed out, not aware that the words left her mouth.
A mature woman by her side caught Světlana's whisper, and in an instant, screamed and threw herself back into the crowd. Face, so shocked and twisted, like she was looking at the devil himself. Světlana did not spare her a single glance as she approached the gallows. I have to get him down. I have to.
One by one, the townspeople backed down from her way, like a wave. They were parting before her so she could stand with her feet dry.
Gaetan's body - unmoving, cold, and so close. They dragged him here like an animal. What happened?!
"One more step and, you will hang next to him." An authoritative voice pierced through her fixed focus. Světlana slowly turned her head to face the dark hard eyes of the town mayor. He was in his forties, tall and lean. He stood still in a blizzard that was Světlana's presence in this little execution.
"What crimes did this man commit to being sentenced to death?" She kept her voice low but loud enough for the man to hear her. How does her face look right now? Are the anger and confusion getting throw the mask she wears instead of a human face?
"For what he has done, there is no other punishment more fitting than death."
"That does not answer my question." The mayor fell silent for a moment, checking if his guards were close by his side to strike if the witcher before him started acting funny.
"The Witcher killed the miller and his oldest son. For no reason, unprovoked." He spoke with the pacing and intonation of someone schooled by a home tutor. This man came from a wealthy upbringing, not fitting the place this town was.
"My brother had more blood on his hands than your town butcher, but not even he would act on a whim like this. Show me proof or God help me. Single lie and, you will need more than those tin cans by your side to keep you safe from me ripping your throat out." Monotone, her voice monotone, and flat. That's the best way to keep it. Let your stance and stare do the work. Don't try me.
"Witness saw the whole act unfold."
"Then let me speak to them."
The mayor and she held long, staring contact before the older man beckoned for someone by his right hand. The cries that followed shocked Světlana. She watched as one of the guards shoved a young woman to the side to get to the little boy behind her. "No, you can't do this. Get him away from the monster! Let my son go, did he not suffer enough?!" Another guard had to hold the woman so she could not run to her boy and shield him from what she believed was an open mouth of a werewolf. The kid had red eyes from crying tears dry on his cheeks. He was visibly frightened, shaking maybe, but he followed the guard to the mayor. She saw something familiar in this little boy, something buried so deep she quickly locked it back.
"Tell us what you saw, Matěj." The protests by the mother echoed in the background, the major sounded strict, and the little boy choked on the first syllable that he tried to force out. She watched him struggle and wondered why he was even here - in shock, frightened, watching a death man swing in the wind.
Světlana kneeled to get to the boy's level. Let me help you, little one. Her actions took Matěj by surprise as the rest of the nearby people, but she just raised her hand to ease them. As she prepared her fingers to perform the sign, in a calm voice she said: "It's Ok. No one's going to hurt you. Please, tell me what happened to the miller." She spoke to him as she did to the newcomers at the old keep. They were too in a place they had no business being.
Axie worked immediately. The boy calmed down and started to speak. He spoke a tale of an old miller that used to give him sweet treats when he helped around and how one day a horse came running from the woods without a rider. And how the horse walked funny and how the miller gave it water and oat. And how the horse stayed with the miller for two days before a strange man came from the woods covered in blood. The man from the tale was dirty and talked nonsense. How he laughed at the miller, calling him a blood-sucking leach. How he shouted, he is not afraid of a vampire, not even a high one. How he cut the poor man in half and how his son lost his head trying to help his father. And how the monster od a man collapsed on the ground in a spasm. And how the boy runs for help to bring it to the horror unimaginable. The tale ended with the good man dragging the unconscious murderer to the town square to meet his fate. To be punished.
"You heard the boy. Do you believe us now?" The mayor placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze while his eyes were on Světlana, nervous, trying not to let his unease be known.
"I do believe the boy. But you still killed my brother and without a trial."
"For crimes like this, no trial is required. Do you judge a monster by human law before you slay it? Do you let them state their case, to defend themselves before you behead them?" Světlana remained on her knee, looking at the boy whose big blue eyes looked for his mom.
This whole situation made her feel like she was balancing on a rope stretched out over a burning pit. Yet she felt blinded by all the feelings she was not showing, feelings that many believed were not there at all. "Every monster has reasons why they do what is natural to them. They live and need to feed, just like everyone else. You would be surprised, Mayor, how often could a tragedy be prevented, only if people understood that."
"Are you siding yourself with the pest you hunt?" The Mayor felt the crowd was on his side. The dimmed voices and reactions carrying throw this whole conversation only got bolder and brasher. Not even I could get away from this in one piece.
"No, I was just answering your question."
Silence fell between them. The silence broke by Světlana and her demand. "Cut him off."
"The law states he has to hang for three days."
"Cut him off."
"The law..."
"Cut. Him. Off."
Her voice was still flat, forcedly emotionless. The sooner Gaetan was down, the sooner she could... She could... She could what?
I have to get him off! I have to get to him off! I have to get him off! I have to get him...
"In three days, you will be allowed to take his body. Not sooner." The mayor's voice was cold as a shard of ice and just as sharp.
***
On the first day, she went to the mill to see the place with her own eyes. Maybe to find out if the miller was a vampire after all, which was nonsense. She demanded to see the bodies after she accepted the majors' condition. Pieces of meat, that's what she saw. Nothing vampiric about that.
They did not let her get closer enough to see Gaetan's body at the gallows. Just a piece of dead meat now as well. What made him act this way? Was her brother that far gone? Did those mutations inflict their final harm? Everything hurt inside, twisted like a knot. No, not now. Not here. Breath. One in, one out.
The mill deserted without a single soul near it. Světlana wondered if the miller had a wife or other children and was glad they were not there when her brother came. If they were here now, would she apologize to them?
The first day was for her to doubt. On the first day, she builds a reconciliation cross.
***
On the second day, she wonders about the forest. Like she is a young child unkissed by the rough lips of life. Unaware of the dangers there. She feels empty, hollow like an old willow tree.
She walks, and the leaves crack under her soles. She listens. She finds an old graveyard in the forest not so far from where the mill is. She sees the rotting corpses and dried blood. Ghouls slaughtered - work of a witcher, flasks from drank potions laying scattered on the ground.
The second day was for her to look and find. On the second day, she destroys a graveyard wall in a flash of frustration.
***
On the third day, she feels it's somewhat harder to sense herself. On the third day, she feels tired of waiting but follows the rules anyway. On the third day, she collects Gaetan's things from the mayor's guards and throws them together with her own into the bag on Mesiats' saddle.
She meditates in front of the gallows. The sun, burning her on every little piece of skin she did not cover enough. She waits for the right time to take her brother down. She sits. She waits.
The townspeople avoided her the entire time she was there, from the first day. But as the time limit was ending, they too became restless. The sun was gradually hiding behind the roofs, just like it was when she came to this forsaken town.
When the first stone left the palm of an unnamed man, Světlana felt the stone brush against her shoulder. "Leave, you freak," yelled the old man, and more were joining him. She could see the exhaustion and frustration in his eyes, but she was swamped by these feelings too.
And she was ready. No, she was not going to draw a sword on them - no more meaningless bloodshed. But she did defend herself. Quen was her friend in many battles and helped her in this one as well. At the impact with the barrier, the stones reflected and bounced back to those who throw them. Some of them hit the shocked people with a force they did not expect. "Blood, there is always blood when we are around, Světli," Gaetan spoke to her, and it felt real. It hurt.
"Enough!" She yelled back."I waited for three days as your law states. I did not break any other law while I remained here. And now I am getting my brother off." Was she yelling? Who knows. There was no right side, no wrong one, not to her. Yet she hated the frightened humans watching her cut down the stiff body of what used to be her brother. She despised them as she rode her horse throw the centre of the square and out of the town. She loathed them as she rode her horse, crushing everything in their way, as her chest felt tight, her ribs pounding by an ungraspable weight.
The third day was for her to... The third day was for her to... The third day was for her to...
***
The wood crackled. Smoke ascended to the sky.
Her brother was dead - she was not. It did not feel right.