Chapter Text
The blade sang as it sliced through the air, and then through the neck of the Orc. Blood splurted as the head went flying, landing with a dull thud somewhere amongst the trees. The slain opponent's companion hesitated for a moment before he dropped his axe and ran, twigs and leaves frantically snapping and crunching underneath the weight of his leather boots.
Odvyn only let out a sigh of relief once he was certain there were no more attackers. He winced with pain as he wiped the red paste off of his sword. The mixed pieces of armor he wore had protected him from the worst of the blows. His horse, lying dead in the nearby grass, hadn't been nearly as fortunate.
"Blasted Orcs," he spat through his teeth, kicking the headless corpse that lay at his feet. "Don't worry. If I ever find your friend, I'll also send him to whatever cursed afterlife you wound up in."
He should have known better than to travel through the Wrothgarian Mountains ill-prepared. Glancing to his left, he saw the sun slowly setting over the vast expanse of terrain below. In the distance, beside the glimmering waters of the Iliac Bay, he could see the mighty stone walls and towers that surrounded the city of Wayrest. He had anticipated finishing his business here quickly and returning that very night, but now it would be impossible to get back before the city gates closed. Despite that, he wasn't immensely concerned.
If the rumors were true, his destination wasn't far from here.
A wolf howled as the moon and stars took the place of the sun. Their light offered little in the way of visibility against the thick clouds and dense tree cover. Odvyn's left hand was attached to his sword hilt at his waist, his right extended forward while holding a lit lantern. Shadows and black figures lingered beyond the dim orange glow that surrounded him. He mumbled out the names of the Divines, praying that at least one of them would help him here.
A dark shape suddenly flitted by. Odvyn gasped as it landed on a tree branch beside him. A mess of black feathers, crowing loudly as it stared at him with small and beady eyes.
"Stupid crow," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Nearly frightened the soul out of me. I thought you were something dangerous."
"Who says I'm not?" the crow said suddenly.
Odvyn felt his blood run cold. With a cry of fear, he immediately took several steps back, tripping over a root and falling.
"Do not be afraid," the crow reassured as Odvyn scrambled to stand back up. "Was it not me you were looking for?"
The crow flapped its wings and darted behind a tree, out of sight. Moments later, a form emerged from the other side. It was that of an old woman, with long and dirty gray hair, wearing a tattered brown robe. She was hunched over, and leaned against a brambled wooden staff that stood taller than her. A wide smile crept across her face, revealing missing and rotten teeth.
Odvyn swallowed with difficulty as he looked at her. She was not wrong. He had now found what he came here for. But he already began to wonder if this had been a terrible idea. The witch chuckled at his frightened expression.
"I already told you, don't be afraid," she said. "Now, you tell me. Tell me what you would ask of the Daughters of Wroth."
"W-What makes you think I'm here to ask for something?"
"Please, child. I may be old, but not senile. Someone wandering through these woods at night would only do so with one thing in mind. You've surely come here based on rumors you've heard. And with those rumors, you must also have heard of the risks. Yet you've chosen to come here in spite of that. Why that is, is the real question."
This, Odvyn could not deny. It was a story that he had heard countless times, from bedtime stories his mother had told him to tall tales spread throughout taverns across High Rock. If there's something your heart truly desires, the way to get it is to ask a witch. Just be well aware that they always take something in return.
"In a few days time, I will be having the most important duel of my life," Odvyn declared. "I'm here to ask that you give me the ability to win it decisively."
The witch grinned as she leaned against her staff. "Oho... That can be done. But my magic operates on details. The more I know, the more effective it will be. So, you must tell me - what is this duel about? And why is it so important that you win?"
Odvyn's resolve was suddenly replaced by embarrassment. His tongue became tied, and his face flushed red.
"Ah, I see," said the witch. "It's about a girl, isn't it? You want to win this duel to impress her, don't you?"
Odvyn looked at his feet. "Not impress, necessarily. This girl, she... I've known her for a long time. I've always had eyes for her. I had finally mustered the courage to ask for her hand in marriage. But right before I could, she and her family were approached by a wealthy noble that wanted to marry her. And her family said yes. I couldn't accept it. I'd rather die than be unable to be with her. I challenged him to a duel. The winner would get to be with her. And he accepted."
"And you're that unconfident in your own skills as to ask me for help?"
"He happens to be one of the most renowned duelists in the province... He accepted because he knew he would win with ease."
The witch shook her head as she chuckled. "Love, love, love... It's always love with you young ones. Willing to do anything and everything, just to have someone they fancy look their way. Tell me, do you believe this girl feels the same way about you? If she was in your position, would she be wandering the Wrothgarian Mountains in the middle of the night, in search of a witch that may or may not grant her wishes?"
"Are you mocking me?"
"Not at all. Believe me, I'm very willing to help. I just want to make sure you're not wasting your time, doing this for a girl that doesn't feel the same way about you."
"I've known her since childhood," Odvyn nearly shouted. "I've always been there for her. Shown her kindness. Given her countless gifts. Was always there when she needed help. She deserves to be with me! Someone who truly loves her! Not some stuffy noble that wants to marry her just because she's pretty!"
The witch stared at Odvyn for a long while. And then let out another wide smile that revealed all her teeth at once.
"I understand," she said. "I perfectly understand how you feel. I can see that what you carry within your heart is true love. And what I hate most of all is to see such feelings unrequited. I will help you. And you don't need to give me anything in exchange for it."
"I… I don't?"
The witch shook her head. "No. You don't. Once you win the duel, all that I ask is that you give your heart to her. Completely and entirely. Can you promise me that?"
"Y-Yes, of course! Thank you! You don't know how grateful I am!"
"It's quite alright. I'm just glad to help."
Once Odvyn had calmed down from his excitement, he thought about something he hadn't at all considered until now. "So... how exactly will you help me?" he asked. "Do you cast a spell? Give me a potion?"
"No, not quite. It's a little more complicated than that. Follow me, and you'll see."
The witch turned, her staff supporting her as she walked deeper into the forest. Odvyn glanced over his shoulder, seeing the faint lights of Wayrest far in the distance, beyond the rows of trees. He couldn't help but smile, thinking about how wonderful life would be there after the duel. He chased after the witch, deciding to ignore the uneasy feeling that he couldn't shake for some reason.