The night had passed in silence, the forest disturbingly calm around him, Sebastian had not returned to the camp. Instead, he had found a spot not far from the ancient oak, a place where the roots of a smaller tree formed a natural seat, and there he had settled into meditation. His eyes had closed, his breathing had slowed, and his mind had drifted into the quiet space, a state where thoughts flowed like water and the world frozen in time around him.
The hours had passed, the stars had wheeled overhead and then, slowly, the darkness had begun to fade.
Sebastian opened his eyes.
Dawn was breaking over the woods of Velen, painting the sky in shades of rose and gold and Sebastian's eyes were fixed on the ancient oak, its gnarled branches still bearing the strange objects that hung from them, its trunk still carved with writings of dark magic. He rose and walked toward the tree.
The clearing was empty. The voice was silent even now, the bones beneath the roots were still and cold.
Sebastian circled the tree, his yellow eyes scanning every detail. What was written was still there, the strange objects still hung from the branches. But there was no sign of the wraith, no spectral light, no whisper of a voice, no chill in the air that would indicate a wraith presence.
"Maybe I have to wait till noon," Sebastian muttered to himself. "Could be a noon wraith. Or clearly, I'm missing something. She could be a different type of wraith, but from the bones alone, I can't tell exactly what happened here.. and she is not hostile at all..."
He paused, his eyes drifting over the runes carved into the trunk. They were old, older than the murder, they spoke of sacrifice and power and the dark, hungry things that lurked at the edges of the forest.
"Velen is really one fucked up place," Sebastian said, shaking his head slowly. "We just stepped foot here, and this is the first thing I find... I bet there is more of these deeper."
He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not hear the approach of footsteps until a familiar voice broke the silence.
"Seb? You woke up early."
Sebastian turned. Zoltan was standing at the edge of the clearing, his thick arms crossed over his chest, his bushy eyebrows raised in question. The dwarf's eyes were sharp, missing nothing.
Sebastian nodded. "I did."
Zoltan's gaze drifted past Sebastian to the ancient oak. His expression shifted, the lines on his face deepening as he took in the runes, the strange objects, the sense of wrongness that seemed to emanate from the tree.
"That's one devilish looking tree," Zoltan said slowly. He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Oh lad, I know that look. You found something, didn't you?"
Sebastian nodded again. "I did. There's a body, one that belongs to a woman. She was killed here and I'm not sure why yet, but my theory is that she was used as a sacrifice. Dark magic requires a great deal of life energy."
Zoltan's face twisted with disgust. "Fucking Temeria. I tell ya, we've had nothing but shite stories to tell from this shitehole."
Sebastian smiled, "Well, this place is pretty grim and full of evils. Some that we can't really deal with. But this one can be dealt with, a wraith plagues this place, the woman's. I heard her at night while you guys were half-dead asleep."
Zoltan's eyebrows rose. "I heard nothing. At least I noticed your absence while Dandelion is still half-dead."
He crossed his arms, "Seeing that you are here and all, I should assume that you are dealing with it."
Sebastian nodded. "Yes. The murder is at least five years old. I can't really tell with what I've found the type of wraith I'm dealing with, but I can still summon her. That will make her hostile though, and yet I still wish to talk to her to find out what happened."
Zoltan's brow furrowed. "Is knowing the story necessary in these kind of situations?"
Sebastian met his gaze. "Yes. Believe it or not, these kind of information keep us updated about everything, including the people of the land that we would deal with and have contracts with. You never know when someone would backstab you with a pitchfork after you're done with a contract."
Zoltan considered this, then nodded slowly. "Fair enough.." A grin spread across his weathered face. "They would need a master crafted silver pitchfork for you, you flaming bastard."
Sebastian laughed. "Good thing peasants don't own anything like that."
Zoltan's grin widened. "Oh, you humble little thing. They can't even land a hit on you with those inhuman senses of yours." He paused, his eyes growing distant with memory. "I remember that one winter in Kaer Morhen! I think it was four years ago. Ciri was fed up with not being able to properly duel with you. She said there was no point in fighting someone that can't be hit. So! as stubborn as she is, she picked up Geralt's silver sword and swung at you while you used a blunt sword, the one you were trying to smith properly. And she still couldn't land a hit on you!" He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that brought tears to his eyes. "Hahaha! I've never seen her so frustrated!"
Sebastian smiled, the memory warming him. "I remember that very well, I had fun in Kaer Morhen training in the past years. With everyone leaving and returning to the keep every winter, I've honed my skills. And so did Ciri. We've been preparing for everything that we would encounter on the Path.."
His expression grew serious. "And for that reason, I'm going to ask you to step away and leave a safe distance. Regular folk are not allowed near monsters."
Zoltan's grin faded. He nodded slowly, "Oh shite. Right. So you'll really summon her."
Sebastian nodded. "Yeah. We don't have time, because we have a road to return to, and I really want to help this wraith and put this woman to rest for good. She'll be aggressive once I forcefully summon her, but I'll try to calm her.. It is very dangerous method but Witchers in the past have pulled this off before, so I can do the same as well."
Zoltan's expression was skeptical, but he nodded. "If you say so, lad. I'll keep away and make sure the sleeping beauty idiot doesn't stumble here by accident."
Sebastian smiled. "Thank you."
He turned back to the ancient oak, his eyes fixed on the runes carved into its trunk. His hand drifted to his silver sword, his fingers brushing the hilt.
"Alright," Sebastian said quietly.
Zoltan retreated to the edge of the clearing, his thick arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the witcher. Sebastian stood alone before the ancient oak and he took a deep breath. "Let's summon the ghost." he muttered.
/-\
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