sorceresstm

[sorceresstm]

"It's a good thing I'll need coastal ingredients as well, isn't it?" She nodded towards the list, new words appearing and disappearing as she thought of what might be near the coasts. Closing the distance between them, she lowered her voice to ensure only he could hear her next words. "Try not to lose that paper, it will update itself whenever I think of something I need." Taking a step back, she gave a gentle bow of her head to the man, "I trust I don't have to tell you word of what I am must not get out."

There was warning in her tone, but she did not outwardly threaten the man. While she was prone to panicking, she wasn't stupid enough to not know fighting a witcher would involve using her magic and so far, the witchers she'd come across didn't seem entirely hellbent on her destruction. "Until next time, Witcher."

He delicately took the list from her and scanned it quickly. Some may be challenging for humans—this time of year perhaps even for himself—but he deemed it doable. With as much care as he had taken it, he refolded the note and tucked it away in his clothes. 

Kal knew the city better than most of its true residents and nodded quickly at her instruction. He had no interest in going to the hospital, and surely the hospital would not be too pleased in seeing him if he did. 

At her suggestion, he nodded again and risked the slightest smile, glad at least to not be on the receiving end of her active hostility anymore. “We can. I would be amenable to that. I am a Crane, however most of my ingredients come from the coast or the water.” If she wanted the plants that grew in the stone of mountains, or the rivers that cut through the inner continent, she would need to find a different witcher. “I can bring you these in the couple of days.”

[sorceresstm]

"And what do you propose we do, Umaia?" Frustration clear in her tone, Cordelia turned from the other mage, fingers curling into fists before she could take a few calming breaths. Her sisters were in danger, young mages who knew nothing of the dangers that await them still ventured into this city. What sleep she could get was broken by the imaginations of their screams being swallowed by fire. Was it prophecy or a new form of torment? Exhaling deeply, she turned back to the other mage. "No one let this happen. It's not as if we announced ourself to the priests and said catch us if you can." No, they were simply the next in a long line of hatred.

"While your... enthusiasm... is appreciated, we do not know the numbers of their supporters, nor do we know how far beyond this city it stretches." Arms folded across her chest, she pondered the other questions and sentiments. How had they not noticed such a power growing? Was it the pride of the mages? Thinking they were unstoppable despite being very human in form. "We cannot risk the lives of the innocents in Novigrad for our own vengeances, we must begin planning and reaching out." She said after a moment, feet carrying her into an easy pace across the floor. They would need a stronghold, somewhere safe to meet. They would also need the Lodge's help, which meant Cordelia would need to start reaching out. "How many mages do you know within the city?"

Umaia preened in Cordelia’s direction with a wide, jackal-like grin. She worked hard to be as unpleasant as she was and it was nice to be recognized. The smile dropped as fast as it came, her attempt towards humor making her more irritable. 

As wrapped up in her unease as she was, it took her a moment to notice the offered glass. Another moment to take it. A third to mumble what might have been a thanks. “They should knock elsewhere,” she growled. “Even dogs don’t eat where they shit, so why heal where you live? It’s foolish. I’ve told you so. You have the hospital.” Be careful, be fucking careful, she meant. The glass of water had frosted over, the slick blood on her hand freezing into the perspiration of the glass. Reigning in her power with a deep breath, she finally flopped into a nearby chair. 

“… Did mages let this happen?” It wasn’t insecurity that made her ask it. It wasn’t the little voice of a child questioning if they were at fault. Umaia was seething. Vengeful. She didn’t even like the dead mages, and yet. “Are we stupid enough not to notice idiots getting this powerful?” Finally she took a drink of water, the cold of it scraping away the smoke in her throat.  “Novigrad is in need of a culling of the Eternal fuckwits.”

[sorceresstm]

Why Cordelia insisted on torturing herself this much was as much as mystery as it was concerning. Perhaps it was the lack of communication from the witcher that set her on edge, had her wandering freely around the festival when the familiar panic started to set in. For being entirely open air, Cordelia felt as if that walls were starting to close in on her, magic brimming beneath her skin just begging to be used as threats surrounded her from all sides. Still, she did her best to steady her breathing, steps uneven as she searched for any familiar face. Perhaps Satya was around or even Umaia, just someone that could talk her down.

What she hadn't been expecting was a hand snatching the book she'd tucked within the satchel she kept at her side. Instinct took over, hand shooting to grab the wrist of the other. Unnatural heat gathered at her palm, ready to burn the poor woman she now held. "Someone like you you mean." Her eyes narrowed, jaw tensing before she felt the pang of her own magic in her palm and pulled quickly away, snatching the book in the process. "An entire evening and you're the first to tempt such a thing, funny isn't it." Keep it together, she thought to herself doing her best to keep a bite in her tone.

open starter / electors' square — the Imbaelk festival

Oriana was leaning against the wall with a drink in hand, the only bright light was coming from the fire that was raging on. Someone was talking to her about business, about what they were supposed to do next. There was no rest for the wicked, Oriana knew that, because if they wanted to bring change to this city, every second count but at the same time one needed to wait for the right moment and this one, this wasn't the one.

Her eyes wondered to the crowd and she mentally smiled as she saw the familiar face. "I hear you." Oriana said, cutting the person off. "We can talk about this more later, enjoy the festival." And with that, she walked away towards a far more interesting target. As Oriana walked closer, an item was peaking from their clothes and she managed to snatch it quite easily. "You best be careful or someone might steal this from you." She handed the item back.

[sorceresstm]

Reaching into the basket that held her novels, she produced the folded list she'd kept for herself. Not all of them were easy to find and she would not hold it against Kal if he were unable to get such items, but she didn't vocalize that -- instead simply handed him the list. "You can find me at the hospital or my apartments," she added, looking around and expecting a priest to jump them, but found nothing waiting. Perhaps the people of Novigrad were as clueless as they were scared.

"I'm on the second floor, nearest a fountain with what once might have been an angel." She gestured in the general direction her apartments would lie, giving the best landmark she could think of. It was likelier to find Cordelia at the hospital, but it might also have drawn more attention. Whatever the case, she'd leave it to the witcher to find the best solution for himself. "We could always trade healing for supplies. I imagine you can find quite a number of rare ingredients in your travels."

Too often Kal did heal himself, as was the witcher way, but he couldn’t necessarily expect the mage, a miffed mage at that, to know. The only reason he’d resorted to a mage’s aid had been his own inability. Still, he smiled ruefully at her. 

Following her gaze, he also scanned the market, paying attention to who paid him the same. The weight of other people’s eyes was nothing new to him, but as busy as the market was few paid him too much mind. A relief, he thought, with the Flames lurking and the mage still making his medallion rattle. “I would be happy to,” he murmured, turning his attention back to her. Tell me which plants you require.” He didn’t bother addressing the condescension of the additional comment. Obviously he was competent in apothecary and foraging works, otherwise he’d be dead already.

“You paying me would rather defeat the purpose of me paying you. I don’t like owing debts, however self-imposed some may be.” Tilting his head as he regarded her he added, “But in the future, should you need something you cannot retrieve given the circumstances, you could toss me a coin then.”

[sorceresstm]

What hadn't people said of the sewers? Her mind swam through the stories she'd heard from paranoid patients of monsters climbing in at night. "Creatures that should be dead, but are not. Men that feast on human flesh," her gaze moved around the inn before settling once more on the witcher as she searched for the names she'd heard these things be called. "Ghouls? I think and the most terrifying was the story of a vampire scouring the hospital for easy targets," though she'd never seen any such horrid creature in her years working there. "Oh, and those fish things," she gestured with her hand towards the sides of her face, as if that would give a better explanation. "The humanoids with gills."

That she could believe, those horrid creatures were everywhere -- they might as well have been the rats of the city. "I'm afraid I'll need to know what we're facing before I can offer any sort of help," her magic was strong, yes, but without an idea of what she'd have to face there was no guarantee her anxieties wouldn't get the best of her. "I suppose I could requisition a map of the city, claim I'm tracking some origin of sickness."

From the outside it would appear to be just a witcher and a woman having a conversation, however, when she stumbled over words like centuries, that tended to give things away. But the nowhere inn was in The Bits, and most of the people who lived there had more pressing things to worry about than gossip about something they might overhear. With The Eternal Flame on a literal witch hunt, everyone was apt to keep to their own business. At least Kaedon now knew they shared something else in common, at least a century's worth of tales to tell. She wasn't a novice mage and for what he had planned for their escape route with their new friend, they would need it. She seemed to already have picked up on that.

"You would be surprised how many children's fables are simply just that. Stories that are meant to scare children and not based on reality. But, for our point in the conversation, entertain me with these fables." There was a reason why there were only a few entrances now into the sewers, there was no telling who or what might have made a home down there. He'd need to figure out where the lines came out of town and have arrangements for their new friend to leave.

"I do intend that, yes," Kaedon confirmed with a nod. "There are only a few entrances left, I will figure out which one will take."

[sorceresstm]

"Do you think they care?" Cordelia watched as the people of Novigrad seemed to forget the monsters that walked among them -- all in favour of some stupid feast and a false celebration. She did her best not to seem sympathetic to their cause, lest she draw too much attention their way but there was only so much merriment a person could fake when their entire body felt like it might explode at the most minor of inconveniences.

She could not bring herself to look towards the fires, nor could she stand the sounds of them. She had yet to light her own fires for fear she might still hear the screams of those take by flames. "I've heard rumours of exits lying within the sewers of the city," she did not bother to clarify that she'd heard it from a witcher or know the extent to which they ran. "But I do not know of anyone willing to lead such a rebellion or an escape. What of you?" Her arm looped within Satya's, guiding them on instinct around the festivities. "What have you heard?"

THE ELECTOR'S SQUARE / FT. CORDELIA ( @sorceresstm )

It was such a strange feeling to Satya, how everyone acted as if life had gone on, as if nothing happened recently, as if lives hadn't been lost only for existing. Looking at the people around her, a shiver passed down her spine. It wasn't fear, Satya's anger was usually too grand to let place to it. If she was honest, she wasn't certain what it was exactly that made her feel that way, that had her skin crawling. Maybe it was the bonfire, reminiscent of certain events or maybe it was something else, something her sense could pick in the air aren't her but that words couldn't. "Don't they realize they are feasting exactly where people were killed?" There was something from The Eternal Flame behind all of it, Satya was certain of it, but then again, her paranoia when it came to that group had been on high alert recently, ready to point the finger in their direction at any given moment. "Death and life, life and death, they go hand in hand. But this isn't the reborn we need." A deep sigh escaped her lips. "Have you heard anything new lately?" Such talks would usually best be done in private, but the middle of the festivities provide a great alibi if needed.

[sorceresstm]

WHO: @thealfsonpellar WHERE: The Hospital (continued from x)

Cordelia's gaze shot around the hospital at the phrase experiencing troubles as if the current chaos that surrounded them could be amounted to something so little. "That is one way of phrasing it," her gaze travelled from a woman ill with some sort of poisoning back towards the young woman. "Though we are not a travelling show, so I don't see why our stories, exaggerated or not, would bring you here. If you're looking for a show, I'd recommend the Kingfisher."

There was bite to her tone, but the mage was already on edge and in no mood to be someone's source of entertainment. "Again, you are neither dead nor dying, so my question remains the same -- why are you here?" Her gaze lingered for only a moment longer before she focused her attention back on the patient before her, examining their wounds. "Do feel free to lend a hand or find your way out."

[sorceresstm]

"Yes, well... perhaps next time you should seek to heal yourself." Cordelia's time in Novigrad had slowly eaten away at the manners she was once raised with, but the sight of the man and his uneasiness almost made her feel bad for the bite in her tone. Almost.

"I will be honest, there is nothing about this world that isn't confusing," squaring her shoulders and taking a look around the market, she decided to give up on her mission to restock her cupboards. "If you'd like to make it up to me, I require some herbs that lie outside of the city," Unlike the hospital, she kept herself well stocked with any and all ingredients that might make healing smoother. Was it technically magic, yes but the dying didn't often care what saved their lives. And that's where the witcher came in. "I'm sure a witcher such as yourself would have no trouble in locating them."

She couldn't very well parade around gathering ingredients herself, that would draw far too much attention. But who would question a Witcher? They needed odd things for their potions, did they not? "I could even toss you a few coins for your trouble"

For all of his deliberate kindness and levity, Kal remained a witcher. Hardened over the course of two and a half centuries to be a weapon, shield, hero and villain that neither flinched nor balked in the face of monsters. He couldn’t remember the age he was when he was last intimidated. Fear had no place to dwell in his heart or in his head. 

Embarrassment, however, was a different beast. One he was not as well equipped to handle. 

Kal ducked his head as he felt his cheeks heat up in response to the scolding. Had he not deserved it he wouldn’t have cared that the mage was chastising him, but he had in fact insulted her, her craft, and most everything he could perceive through the haze of blood and pain. It was really no excuse, given that pain was omnipresent, and yet. “I do owe you an apology. And I do apologize. I thought it would have been confusing to lead with that, however.” 

He was above squirming, but the discomfort of his own sheepishness hadn’t abated. It niggled inside his chest like a worm had crawled in between his rib bones and taken up residence. “Our… meeting was during a rare lapse in my manners and control. You saved my life. I would repay that service, if you’d allow it.”

[sorceresstm]

Cordelia stepped to the side, though it was more to avoid the shove that was likely to follow as Umaia stomped into her home. "By all means, Umaia," Her hand shot out, gesturing for her to enter -- though it was a gesture made at the air as Umaia was well passed the door. With a sigh, she closed the door and turned to face Umaia.

"Yes, that would be the bodies of the mages," she replied to the brash statement. "Apparently we are the new favoured type of kindling for the Eternal Fire." Subtlety was not Umaia's strong suit, so there was no need for Cordelia to beat around the bush. "Darling, it is quite difficult for anyone to be less pleasant than you," after a pointed look at the other mage, Cordelia moved into the dining section of her apartment and pulled down the pitcher of water she'd collected the day before, offering a glass to the mage.

"If you mean to ask if they've found me, I am safe." For now, though the sentiment remained unspoken, she was sure it laced her words. "The only people who have come knocking are those that needed healing."

Umaia scoffed as she brushed past Cordelia into her home. The scent of it chased away the city’s aroma of piss, desperation, and smoke. “The sun is a lazy bastard.” Her expression, previously one of boredom, shifted in an instant to a dramatic pout. “Can I not merely visit a friend in the city? I’m wounded. Besides, I expected better of the good doctor’s hours. Like the saying goes: the first bird gets the worm, or millipede, or shitipede…”

Without an invitation to do so, Umaia stomped further into the other mage’s abode. She was too keyed up from her job and the fire in the square to sit or lounge like she would have any other day. Instead she paced, scratching at the drying blood on her fingernails. “The city still smells of smoke,” she commented, apropos nothing. Nothing besides her unvoiced concern about the rare few mages she gave a shit about in the city. “Has anyone less pleasant than me knocked on your door?”

[sorceresstm]

Cordelia mirrored his motion and leaned forward, hands squished beneath her chest as she listened intently. Her gaze fell to the medallion around his neck, terror rising in her expression for only a moment before she forced her gaze back to Kaedon's face. If they were going to be caught, the damned medallion wouldn't be the thing that gave them away. "I've been to Novigrad many times over the last cent-- over my lifetime, but I have lived here almost fifteen years."

At the mention of the old sewers, her body went rigid and she leaned back into her chair. There were many rumours of what lied beneath the city -- perhaps that alone would keep a witcher in business in a place like this. "Children's fables," she answered after a moment, knowing damn well the hospital had a hidden entrance that lead into the sewers. Nearly half the buildings in Novigrad must've hidden such an entrance. "Though I'm told that's what Witchers specialize in." After watching him for a few passing seconds, she leaned forward and lowered her voice even more.

"If you intend for us to take him through the sewers, I believe you'll need to scout ahead and see what dangers lie within." Her magic would help them, but after limited use she wasn't certain the control she would have of it.

Again, he wouldn't have blamed her for not coming. Kaedon is sure that if the situation had been reversed he would have left this to be her problem. She hadn't asked for this but had been willing to help. For that, the witcher gave her even more credit and was glad to see her sit down at the table though she looked as taut as a bowstring. He understood that too. They were in a town that had neighbors turning on each other simply for supporting mages and Kaedon was a keeper of her own secret. Perhaps the Nowhere Inn wasn't the best location, this was where the young man had wandered in bruised and beaten, but the witcher also believed if someone was watching them, straying from the norm wasn't going to help them either.

"I have a couple ideas," He admits leaning forward, crossing his arms, and resting them on the table. His voice lowered only for the two of them, though for the time no one seemed interested in them. "But Novigrad is not my home and I do not know it as well as some might. So I am going off only rumors. But perhaps you might be able to offer some insight." His next question is for her, "How long have you lived in the city?" He hadn't asked her before, mostly because they had been sneaking out the young man healing from his wounds. But despite the need for urgency, they did have some time.

"You work at the hospital, when people come in, have you ever heard them mention anything about the old sewers?"

[sorceresstm]

Cordelia hated the market with a passion that was third only to the Eternal Flame and toads. This many people did not belong in one place and the scent of the Eternal Flame's fires still lingered -- everywhere she turned a sisters face plastered the wall, all but declaring their deaths. It was a cruel punishment, needing to resupply with whatever the market held.

She was careful to avoid the herbalists, knowing it could arouse suspicion while simultaneously arguing with herself that she was a doctor and who would question any sort of healer for resupplying themselves, but then... maybe that was a prime indicator to the priests and their supporters? Were they watching her now? She was certain she could feel eyes on her as she moved from stall to stall, realizing after her third pass of the market that she'd clutched the basket holding the books she'd purchased so hard her knuckles had turned white and she was all but vibrating with unreleased magic.

The voice that called from her side was enough to spoke her back into her right mind, her head snapping towards the source. "If that is what you believe," she regarded the man, searching the banks of her memory for his face. "You are most welcome." She was about to brush him off, half stepping away when the memory hit her. Jaw clenched, she turned her gaze back towards him, eyes narrowing in his direction. Not many took kindly to the necessities that came along with healing, but few used the same foul language this man had. "Though I would have led with, I owe you an apology."

Time: Midday Location: the markets of Novigrad @sorceresstm

On principal, when Kal felt his medallion vibrate against his breastbone in the streets of Novigrad, he only glanced around himself surreptitiously. He wanted to note the threats around him, knowing that not all mages took kindly to witchers and that he had his fair share of enemies, but he never wanted to point a target at any of the innocent mages traversing the city. 

He rarely recognized the mages that made his necklace hum, however, and fewer still made it rattle the way it did when he spotted her. It took him a moment to click—and he knew his child surprise would have cracked a joke about how his age was starting to effect his memory—but click it did. He knew her. Not only that, but he was fairly certain he’d uncharacteristically insulted her and compared her ministrations to the bite and sting of a sea serpent.

With heat in his cheeks, and without much of a plan besides, he walked to her side. “Excuse me,” he said, voice soft as he made himself as nonthreatening as a witcher was able. “I believe we’ve met before. I don’t believe I thanked you.”

[sorceresstm]

What in the ever loving fu-- Cordelia jolted up from the chair she'd been slumped into, eyes darting around the room. It only took a few seconds to realize she'd passed out while reading, a silent thank you to any creature that might be listening that she hadn't burned her apartments down. Then the knock came again and the woman realized it was far too early to have a visitor. Cursing to herself, she shoved the chair back into place and moved towards the door.

Power trembled within her veins, but the voice beyond the door wasn't an unfamiliar one. It was far from a kind voice, but Cordelia considered herself blessed to be on Umaia's good side. "You're already waking the dead," she huffed, pulling the door open just enough for the other to walk in. "Why are you here before even the sun wishes to start its day?" The blood on the door would be a problem for later, Cordelia decided and tried her best to pretend it wasn't there -- no one would question the door of a doctor being a little bloody now would they?

Time: Dawn, just about Location: not where Umaia has business being @sorceresstm

Well, thought Umaia as she knocked on Cordelia’s door in the wee, wee hours of the morning when the dawn was still blue and the sun was still lazy, that hadn’t been too difficult. The bounty was simple, really, and in hindsight she should have charged her client less. She wasn’t in the business of giving money back however, so she’d consider the excess a tip. 

Maybe she’d buy gloves with the extra. That way her fingers would stay cleaner and she wouldn’t leave tell-tale smears of blood on her associate’s doors when she came calling. Too late now. She knocked again and left a second red mark on the mage’s door. “Hellooo,” she called, sing-song. “Open up or I’ll make a ‘fuss,’ Cordelia.”

[sorceresstm]

Not only had Cordelia gone completely out of her comfort zone in using her magic in front of an audience -- even if it wasn't exactly obvious -- but now she was aiding the poor soul she'd cured in getting out of this Gods forsaken city. A plan, which seemed to lack a strong foundation, that involved her trudging back to the Nowhere Inn, her cloak pulled tightly over her body.

She was already late to the agreed upon time, but the sorceress couldn't bring herself to move any faster. All her willpower had gone into that first step beyond her apartment and her strength was waining with each step she took. It was just her being too cautious, she knew that, but she couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on her as she walked. Hovering by the door of the Inn, she took one final steadying breath and pushed her way in.

Dropping her hood, she searched for the witcher she was supposed to be meeting. It took a couple of passes, but her gaze found her companion as her feet carried her in his direction the instant she saw him. There was an odd comfort in seeing him, as though this shared secret would somehow keep her safe.

"A part of me didn't want to," she clarified after she took her set, locking her fingers together to prevent herself from fidgeting. "but I'm here and we've only a short time before my nerves leave. Have you come up with a plan?"

location: the nowhere inn

tag: @sorceresstm - Cordelia Asparel

In the last twenty-four hours, Kaedon had dragged a half-dead mage supporter to the hospital to be healed and in turn, had pulled in a mage to a plot to hide said mage supporter while they figured out how they were going to get him out of the city. Meanwhile, the eternal flame had wiled up the city with seeing monsters around every corner, and walking out the front gate wasn't an option. The Eternal Flame would be looking for this young man. He could have just left things as they were, everyone else in the inn had been happy to ignore the young man. Already he had heard a couple mention the witcher who had helped the distraught lad. He didn't have the option of hiding so easily in the city. He waits for his cohort in the entire endeavor, and he half wonders if the mage won't show up. Kaedon wouldn't blame her, she had just been in the right place at the wrong time. Before they had split up at the hospital, they had agreed on a time and place to meet. So that's why he sat there now.

Kaedon spots her easily enough as she enters, he nods in her direction and gestures to the open chair across from him. "A part of me wondered if you would come," He says conversationally as if to a friend, though they had barely known each other long enough to even be called acquaintances.

[sorceresstm]

I saw him last night… before he — He told me he wished for Aegon to be king.

[sorceresstm]

ALICENT HIGHTOWER APPRECIATION WEEK → Day 1: Favorite Episode 1.07 - “Driftmark" 

If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. 

[sorceresstm]

kaedonofcintra​:

Novigrad wasn’t a small town, it had been a long shot that she might know the individual currently being healed on the table. “Well, it would make it a lot easier if you all did.” He says half teasingly since she had been the one to make the suggestion in the first place. But watching as she wielded her magic, the young man’s wounds began to heal and it seemed to have more of a pale look then ashen grey of death. “That was my guess as well. Ever since the display in the square, people are turning against each other.” No one wanted to be accused of being a mage or even a supporter, this poor young man was evidence of that.

“You keep talking about it and I already told you that your secret was safe. I am no friend of the Eternal Flame. They hate Witchers just as much as mages.” The Eternal Flame was focusing on the unseen threat at home, the monsters that live next door without anyone knowing. It was that kind of fear that spread and left the kind of damage inflicted on the young man healing on the table.

“I’m Keadon,” The witcher introduces himself as a peace offering between them. They were now wrapped up in this together. “Now as for our new unidentified friend, if what we suspect is true, the people that did this are going to be looking for him. He came to the Inn for help, now we have to figure out how to get him not only out of the hospital but out of Novigrad altogether.”

Keadon thinks about how they would help this young man escape. They would be watching all the exits from town and checking wagons and carriages. Novigrad wasn’t his home, and he’d heard only rumors about things. “I know a couple people I can talk to, but in the meantime, he has to stay hidden.”

⌜

Whatever tension she still held in her body evaporated at his jest. At least he had a sense of humour. It didn’t, however stop her from rolling her eyes. “And if you’re lucky maybe we’ll dance naked in the moonlight.” She was certain there were some that actually believed that to happen -- or worse those who actually did just that. Her gaze lingered on the young man, heart aching at the sight of how young he was beneath those bruises. The wrong place at the wrong time and it was nearly over for this poor man. 

“You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little skeptical,” shaking her head, she collected the remainder of the unnecessary tools to secure them carefully back in their rightful places. “Kaedon.” She repeated the name before turning back to face him, arms crossing beneath her chest as she offered the smallest of smiles. “I’m Cordelia, and I--”

“We?!” Who the hell was we. Her eyes widened, as though this new partnership was a complete shock to her. She’d done her part -- she’d cured the man. Wasn’t this about to be the Wit-- Kaedon’s problem now? Cordelia didn’t want to be involved this early, not without a proper plan and the Lodge at her back, but another glance cast at the mystery man and she knew damned well she wasn’t about to leave him to the wolves. For all she knew he could’ve been injured defending one of her sisters.  “I suppose the we in this includes me keeping him hidden until you speak to these people, doesn’t it?” There were only so many places Cordelia knew were unchecked and the hospital would not be one for long, so out of the morgue was the first priority. 

She could have Kaedon take him through the sewers, though she feared what creatures might have lurked beneath the hospital and the ways out were foreign to her. “My apartments are just outside the Bits,” she offered, feet carrying her aimlessly around the room while she thought. “But you’d have to get him there as discreetly as possible. Or there’s the brothels. I suppose we could hide him there too.” No matter the location, Kaedon would have to get the man there. She could always open a portal, but that type of magic would be just foolish. 

[sorceresstm]

kaedonofcintra​:

Keadon didn’t have to get involved, plenty of people had been willing to ignore the young man as he wandered in. And yet, it was the Witcher standing there now in the morgue with a woman who seemed to know what she was doing. He approached back to where the unconscious form was and her, “No I didn’t do this,” He said a bit more forcefully than was called for. She hadn’t accused him, simply asked a question. It’s not like a Witcher dragged in humans to the hospital on the daily basis. A bit more softly, “I didn’t see what happened. He wandered into the Nowhere Inn, probably looking for help, and collapsed.”

That was as much as he knew. The Witcher could make a pretty good guess about what happened given the circumstances with the Eternal Flame. Was this young man a mage, one of the monsters the zealots were going on about? Or simply caught in the crosshairs as his fellow man sought out monsters in fear.

Keadon turned as she mentioned by the door, he saw the shelf of surgical instruments, and then she listed off a name of a plant she needed. Hellebore. Poison. He stopped his approach to the door. Either she was new or trying to kill an anonymous boy she didn’t know or…he turned back towards her. There was something she didn’t want him to see.

The wolf medallion around his neck vibrated in warning to the Witcher of the magic being used nearby. He glanced down and then yellow eyes cast back onto her. Mage. While he wasn’t overly fond of them for personal reasons, he also knew not all of them were as the Eternal Flame made them out to be. This woman had made no ill gesture to him and was even helping when she didn’t have to, at risk to herself.

“It seems working in morgues where you are not supposed to be is the least of your worries.” He comes back to the table, “Don’t worry, Mage, I’m not interested in your magic.” He nods to the young man, “What about him though? Is he a mage or just an unfortunate victim of the Eternal Flame’s propaganda spreading through Novigrad?”

⌜

There was a moment, just one sliver of hope, when Cordelia was positive she’d gotten away with it, but then the witcher opened his mouth and every muscle in her body seemed to tense. Of course a witcher would know what hellebore was. Of course he would sense her magic, the plea for his silence was on the tip of his tongue, but he spoke first. 

“I don’t know, Witcher,” it took far longer for the words to travel from her brain to her lips, her throat burning as she spoke them. There was no imminent danger from this man, at least according to his own words, but it was taking her body longer to register this information than her brain and her eyes remained narrowed in his direction. “I know less about this man than you.” Had he thought she was a manifest of every mage within Novigrad? “Do you think we all just dance beneath a full moon, chanting our plans?” She didn’t bother to deny him or challenge his statement. Instead she turned her attention back to the patient, tossing aside the balm in favour of both hands. The magic moved quicker, wounds healing and his heart rate returning to normal. “If I had to hazard a guess, I would say an unfortunate bystander or a supporter of mages. Something tells me if he was a mage, he’d be burning in the square.”

Satisfied with her work, her attention shifted back to the witcher, a brow arching. “A place where I will no doubt find myself if you utter a word of this to anyone.” Or if they didn’t find a way to get this man out of the hospital without raising any questions.