A matter of courage
In the late afternoon, as the last rays of the sun slowly faded, Triss finally returned to her humble abode. She breathed a full sigh, taking in the scent of faded flowers and damp foliage that wafted from somewhere downstairs, where it appeared someone was once again conducting their experiments.
- “Some alchemist must have taken up residence again,” - Triss concluded. Going to the window, she opened it wide, letting in the cool evening air, filled with the ringing of blacksmith's cicadas and the whisper of the wind.
Her dwelling was relatively modest, a sort of refuge from the hustle and bustle and endless obligations. This four-story mansion with cracked plaster was the perfect refuge for those who sought privacy and freedom or who simply lacked the means for something more. Triss was one of the latter. The house, surrounded by century-old trees and lilac bushes, seemed like a temporary refuge from the ruthless gaze of society.
Reputation for failure in Kovir had played havoc with her. Now, even the most difficult and dangerous jobs that required a deep knowledge of magic, she had to settle for a pittance. Clients, fearful of Triss's reputation, preferred to skimp, believing that she was obliged to work for nothing. Merigold sometimes wanted to curse such “generous” people with a more self-serving curse, but common sense told her that such an action could be much worse.
In a world where magic was becoming more and more regulated, times had changed drastically. To be considered a legitimate mage, one had to undergo a mandatory examination in one of the provinces. Passing the procedure in Nilfgard automatically spread the status throughout the land, making the lives of mages transparent and controlled. If it was done in Nilfgard, it effectively spread across almost the entire continent.
- Damn those bureaucrats and their innovations! - Triss grumbled, remembering her visit to the department. It was there that she had been officially informed that she could limit herself to working with lower entities and filling orders at dubious establishments.
From then on, girl began to act like a true underground magician, hiding her true powers and skills under a mask of modesty and stealth. Working without a license meant constant risk and the need for the strictest secrecy. Over time, however, Triss learned to enjoy this game of shadows: she was able to move silently through narrow streets, skillfully disguised herself among the crowds, and even developed a few secret routes to various cities that were unfamiliar to her.
Returning from her deep thoughts, Triss crossed the room slowly, tired feet treading the wooden floor that seemed to absorb her every step. She walked over to the old but surprisingly cozy bed, adorned with lace pillows and patterned sewing, and lowered herself gently onto it.
Every corner of the room bore traces of her ritual from yesterday: thin threads of magical smoke, the barely discernible outlines of objects left behind, the outlines of runes and sigils that had not yet been erased. These traces of her activity served as a silent reminder that the day before she had succumbed to her desires and made avoidable mistakes. And now “this thing,” which she had at first taken as a punishment, became more understandable.
The tension of the last few hours began to recede, thanks to Yennefer's help. The witch had pointed out the solution to the problem and Triss had been relieved. However, to finally get rid of the metamorphosis, the red-haired witch would have to overcome her inner foundations and limitations.
Remembering their meeting on the balcony of the castle, Triss saw the image of Yennefer in thought again. They stood side by side, looking at the setting sun, which colored the sky in shades of scarlet and gold, creating the illusion of infinite space.
However, exactly the opposite story came out of Yennefer's mouth
- This house is in Novigrad. It's like it's covered in darkness from the inside. Something happened there. I couldn't figure out what... It's... It's horrible.
Triss, standing nearby, seemed almost hypnotized by those words. Her gaze wandered between the amber light of the setting sun and her friend's unusually tense figure.
- “This is not good.”
As Yennefer recounted the mysterious event, the whole situation grew threads of mystery and unease.
- There, inside, something had awakened, something ancient and powerful. It has released a dark matter that seems to feed on the energy of the world around it. I managed to temporarily encase it in a magic circle, but ...
Yennefer paused, her fingers nervously rubbing the edge of the hem of her clothing.
- These protective barriers. They're as fragile as glass. Anyone who tries to cross them and enters the house disappears, as if dissolving into thin air. I've cast extra protective spells to deter the curious, but... It's not working.
- What makes you think it's a curse? - Triss asked, her eyebrows raised in puzzlement. - Maybe it's just an anomaly caused by magical instability?
Yennefer shrugged, and made herself comfortable near the railing.
- Maybe, uh. But there's more to it than that that makes me doubt it. There... the presence of an ancient evil, perhaps linked to a forgotten ritual or an ancient artifact. Maybe it's the key to something much bigger than we realize.
- So a thorough investigation must be carried out. Every detail must be scrutinized, the scene must be examined, perhaps ancient manuscripts or relics that might shed light on the mystery must be found.
Merigold turned to Yennefer, expecting support, but she saw that her friend had turned away and was not even looking at her.
- I'm sorry, Triss, but I don't have time for this right now.
Yennefer, crossed on her chest and notes of fatigue and exhaustion could be heard in her voice.
Triss, noticing her friend's tense posture, inwardly shuddered. Usually Yennefer radiated confidence and sarcasm, ready to fight back against any threat, but today her appearance seemed unrecognizable - tired and stricken. The remaining doubt in Triss's soul quickly dissipated.
- Then let me handle this on my own, - She suggested firmly. - I'll look into that damn house tomorrow. Maybe I can figure out what or who we're dealing with.
Yennefer, surprised by her friend's initiative, nodded, though there was a flicker of relief in her eyes.
- Be careful, - She said quietly. - Heralt would be indispensable in such matters...
Her voice faltered, filled with sadness and tenderness. And all doubts in Triss's soul were quickly dispelled. Now she knew who made her friend so... Unaccustomed. There was something wrong with the witch.
Triss was about to ask her friend about it, but witch beat her to the punch.
- But he's in Kaer Morhen. Lambert and Eskel were in danger, and he had to intervene. He saved them by stopping those who wanted to take the fortress. Without him, the witchers would have been finished. But he himself. Not at his best.
- Oh, shit... - Triss whispered, her lips pressed into a thin line. - How bad is it?
Yennefer sighed and looked up, guiding her violet eyes across the sky.
- To put it bluntly, all three of them, including Geralt, had been hit with a hammer. Geralt was particularly badly hurt, but his condition is improving now. The witches are dealing with the aftermath, and Keira is helping them recover.
Triss stared at her friend in surprise.
- Keira?
- Yeah she and Eskel... Just, fuck, travel the world, fuck again, do the witchers bidding and fuck again. Life is a dream.
Triss, felt the weight of responsibility for what was happening. Once again her friends were in trouble and she wasn't there for them. After all, she was feeling sorry for herself and her damn life. Not even wondering about Geralt, Yennefer, and the rest of her friends and acquaintances. She was tempted to write only to Ciri, but she didn't want to impose and be a burden to her. A sudden thought related to the ash-haired girl arose in Triss's mind.
- Why don't we turn to Ciri? She's a witch, and her abilities could be very useful in such a case. Besides, she has a unique connection to the world and creatures we can rarely understand, - Triss suggested.
Yennefer tensed as if pierced by an unexpected icy arrow when she heard these words.
- No, Triss, - She said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. - Ciri is too young and inexperienced. She risked not only putting herself in danger, but making the situation worse.
- But... - Triss tried to object, looking for an argument.
Black haired wooman interrupted her with a determined look.
- I don't want to put Ciri at unnecessary risk! She's having a hard enough time as it is...
Saying that, she turned and walked off into the darkness of the corridor, leaving Triss alone with her own doubts and questions.
- "Is Ciri in trouble? And I don't know anything again... Fuck... What a shitty friend I make!" - She mentally berated herself.
Triss, still deep in thought, unbuttoned her clothes as if afraid to disturb the peace of the night. In the semi-darkness of the room, lit only by the faint light of the moon through the curtains, every movement seemed especially distinct.
To distract herself from the memories and painful remorse of her conversation with Yennefer, Triss focused on her body, as if trying to find the answer to her own questions in it. Her gaze glided over every curve. Her smooth and soft skin contrasted sharply with the rough and truly foreign and unfamiliar object between her legs. The thought of having to endure nine more spewings of semen from her cock filled her with a mixture of fear and anxiety. She was used to feeling confident and independent, but now.... Now she had to re-learn to understand herself.
Ciri's image continued to haunt her thoughts, like a shadow that followed her every step.
- “Why was it her, exactly, that I left out?” - Triss asked herself, feeling the bitterness of guilt intensify her remorse. Ciri, fragile and strong at the same time, possessing the strength of a witch, was in Merigold's opinion truly unique. Perhaps it was in her spontaneity and openness to the world that lay the key solution to their common problem.
The fluttering of her heart and frequent sighs spoke volumes about how deeply these thoughts had penetrated Triss' soul. She realized that her selfishness and insularity could lead to the most unpredictable consequences. As a matter of fact, that was exactly what had happened. Her “alienation” for two years had affected many people. If she hadn't disappeared, she could have rushed to the Witches' aid in Caer Morhen. Or keep Ciri company on her journey as a witch. Or perhaps she could have reestablished the Witcher's Lodge with new laws.
But now what had happened was what had happened. Triss wiped away a single tear and thought about the fact that it was time to let go of her fear and insecurities to get on the path of true unity with those around her. Of course first she would need to get rid of the metamorphosis and it was best not to put it off too long. After making some conclusions, the sorceress made herself comfortable on the bed and allowed herself to distract herself from her anxious thoughts for a while.
She didn't want to sleep and Triss involuntarily began to look at her cock between her legs. It seemed small in its collapsed state. She awkwardly touched it with her hand and for some reason thought of the taste of Yennefer's lips still on it.
The thought of her having oral sex with her friend made her cock twitch, and for some reason it amused Triss. She was usually focused solely on pleasing others, but now that she had her own “thing,” curiosity got the better of her.
She remembered vivid images of the morning with Yennefer, leaning over her, gently and skillfully performing her ritual, making Triss's heart beat faster. The warmth of those touches and the enchantress' passionate gaze still left an aftertaste of delight and desire. But now it was necessary to focus on something else - on what was to be overcome on her own.
With an effort to keep her fingers from trembling, Triss began to rhythmically move her hand up and down, trying to drown out the voice inside her that told her it was obscene. Her lips were tightly pressed together, and her eyes flashed with conflicting emotions - shame, desire, determination to get rid of this strange metamorphosis. After all, only a few weeks ago she had been an ordinary woman, and now.... Now she had to get used to a new body, to new sensations.
With each movement of her hand, her breathing became deeper, and her thoughts gradually drifted away, leaving room only for physical sensations and the desire to be free of this temporary curse.
At the moments of greatest intensity, she couldn't contain her emotions and burst out into a quiet, lustful curse, uttering words that had previously seemed forbidden to her and feeling a hot wave engulf her body that promised release from the accumulated tension.
- Ahhh...Fuck!
When Triss's fingers picked up speed, her breathing became intermittent and rapid. Her eyes burned with determination, and a faint smile played at the corners of her mouth, a mixture of fear and the satisfaction of knowing that she was breaking through yet another barrier to her new reality.
As the first wave of extreme arousal fluttered inside her, Triss gathered her will into a fist and spoke the incantation clearly and confidently. The words echoed in the silence of the room, filling the space with an energy charge to break the curse. At the same instant, as if in response to her efforts, the heat of semen surged upward, showering her face and chest in a soft wave. The flow was so powerful that Triss had to close her eyes as she felt the moisture touch her cheeks and neck.
Merigold realized how delightful it was to feel such a powerful flood of feeling, such a peak of pleasure. For the first time in her life, she understood what it meant for a man to reach orgasm.
Triss sat down on the edge of the bed with a weary sigh, and felt in her gut that her womanhood needed immediate attention. Her pussy was indeed richly moist, like the earth after a long-awaited rainstorm.
- Ah, if I could... - she whispered, imagining how she could engage in a narcissistic dance of her own desires, but the reality was far more prosaic.
Her thoughts, however, were interrupted by the sudden realization of the inevitability of loneliness. Her gaze fell to her feet, and she rubbed her knees as if trying to warm them with inner warmth. Yes in this situation, she should be able to handle herself. Hardly any man would want to fuck her with such an obvious body change.
The feeling of emptiness and dissatisfaction became even more acute, and she rose resolutely, heading for the large mirror hanging opposite the window.
Walking over to the mirror, Triss scrutinized her collar. Her heart clenched painfully when she realized that after all her efforts, not a single new mark had appeared.
- No way... No... - she whispered, almost physically feeling the disappointment. It meant that today's attempt had been unsuccessful.
This failure seemed especially painful after all the effort and hope associated with today's experience. Her soul seemed to split in two, one part wanting to move forward, the other clinging to the past.
With quick frozen hands, she performed a spell that instantly wiped the traces of semen from her face and chest, leaving her skin clean and cool. Then, she threw on a simple white tunic and headed for the megascope like a beacon of salvation in the dark of night.
Contacting Yennefer, Triss reported the failure in a businesslike manner:
- Masturbation doesn't seem to be working. There were no new marks on the collar.
Yennefer, who had been roused from her sleep, yawned and scrutinized her friend through the megascope screen.
- Then it's time to do things differently, - She said dryly, fixing her hair. - A brothel knows how to satisfy all kinds of customers. It's the kind of place where your peculiarities will be an advantage, not a hindrance.
- But... nine sexual acts?! - exclaimed Triss, barely able to contain her excitement.
- Oh, Triss, don't be so dramatic, - Smiled Yennefer, squinting her eyes. - So what if it's only nine times? Think of it as just opportunities to experience something new. If I were you, I'd welcome the chance to fuck someone. I even have someone in mind...
Yennefer raised an eyebrow meaningfully, bringing a smile to Triss's face, albeit an embarrassed one.
Disconnecting the connection, Triss was left alone with her thoughts, with the silence in the room seeming even deeper. Washing her face with cold water, she realized that her friend's words were probably true, but the thought of visiting a brothel seemed terrifying.
Lying in bed, she whispered to herself:
- Maybe Yennefer's right... I have to try.
This recognition was both liberating and the beginning of a difficult journey. Accepting her new body, realizing that it was an integral part of her identity, was the first step toward healing. But it was a thorny road, and the fear of the upcoming visit to the brothel made her heart beat faster.
The next morning, after carefully straightening her hair and tucking it under a neat bundle, Triss packed her things. After studying her closet, she chose a long tunic and loose pants, which, despite her best efforts, could not hide the unusualness of her figure. She sighed and decided to use the available means - she wore a wide hooded cloak over the tunic, hoping it would help hide her secret.
Concentrating, Triss activated the portal, stepping into the unknown. Arriving in the suburbs of Novigrad, she walked, staying out of sight, pretending she was just traveling, enjoying the view of the surroundings.
As she passed the gates of Novigrad, Triss found herself in the midst of busy streets, despite the early hour. It was as if the city had woken up early, the streets bustling with people - merchants, artisans, travelers, and even a few curious townsfolk in a hurry to start the day. Wrapping her hood tighter around her head, she tried to remain unnoticed among the crowd as she passed brightly colored shop windows and street musicians.
As she turned another corner, Triss couldn't help but compare the current atmosphere of Novigrad with that of two years ago. Thanks to Buttercup's efforts, the city had been noticeably transformed - the streets were cleaner, and his famous tavern had become a center of attraction for all those who wanted to relax after the road. The memory of warm evening conversations with friends, laughter and the aroma of fresh beer brought a nostalgic smile to Triss' soul. She made a mental promise to stop by on her way back to experience that cozy atmosphere again.
However, when her gaze fell on the brothel house, her heart began to race. The building, full of ambiguous signs and colorful murals and signs, seemed to attract her like a magnet, but at the same time it repelled her. Triss stood motionless, petrified, weighing every decision.
- Maybe I should visit that cursed house Yennefer was talking about first. I can always make it to the brothel.
But fear and shame, like cold snakes, chained her from the inside. The images of men and women coming in and out of the building caused chaos in her soul.
Instead of taking the expected step toward the brothel door, Triss turned and darted away. Her feet led her around the nearest corner, and immediately, as if in a panic, she plunged into the thick of the crowds. Pulsing with fear, she bumped into the wide back of a merchant, soaking in his scent of spices and leather, and with a barely intelligible apology she hurried on, feeling less and less ashamed and more and more relieved.
Her steps slowed with each passing minute, until finally she stopped, leaning against the wall of the old house. A deep exhalation, as if to throw out all the accumulated fear, reminded her that even in the most difficult situations there was room for retreat and rethinking.
- The cursed house first, - she decided firmly, as if she could find salvation in that decision.
The way to the mysterious house was through the busy streets of Novigrad, where life bustled in every corner. Triss, clad in a wide hooded cloak, moved among the crowd like a shadow, deftly avoiding casual glances and curious questions. Her eyes fluently scanned her surroundings, noting details of architecture and street scenes that seemed to have a life of their own.
She refused to use portals because she didn't want to attract attention, but preferred to move on foot, scrutinizing every turn. The witch-hunting days were over, but her status was too low, and a public display of magic was always frightening to onlookers.
Finally, after walking through the labyrinth of streets, she saw the coveted structure. The house stood to the side, surrounded by a quiet magic circle that shimmered with a soft green light, as if inviting her to enter a world of secret knowledge.
When she finally saw the ominous structure Yennefer had spoken of, her heart began to race. The house stood alone, surrounded by a magical circle that appeared to have been set up to hide what was going on inside from prying eyes.
- This must be Yennefer's work, - Triss whispered, noting the subtle workings of the spells that safely concealed any manifestations of magic in the area.
Noticing a moment when there was no one around, she whispered a spell silently and found herself under the effect of a protective circle. The impression of deadness that the house gave was reinforced by its appearance - the wooden walls were covered with brown mold stains, the windows were covered with a foggy haze like eyes, and the door seemed to be locked in centuries-old silence.
Triss ran her fingers along the walls, feeling the heaviness of the place. She was reluctant to go inside alone, so she drew runes and walked around the house, trying to catch at least a trace of the magic that had been left behind. The girl realized that such a spell could not be mistaken, it was intentional and most likely was cast inside. When her runes failed, Triss drew others, reinforcing them with the amulet on her belt.
After working for a few hours, Triss found that traces of magic led to one of the second floor windows. The runes she had drawn shimmered, indicating the presence of something unusual. It was an artifact never before seen, with the power to absorb light and energy like a funnel in the sea.
- Oh, fuck! - The girl blurted out.
As Triss delved deeper into the study of the magical trail that engulfed the house, it began to seem more and more mysterious and sinister. Each new layer of runic symbols she tried to decipher only increased the chaos in her mind. The magical trail, seemed older and more powerful than anything she had ever encountered in her life. She felt shadows of memories of forgotten eras and powerful beings capable of manipulating reality itself begin to intertwine in her mind.
- How is this possible? There is no mention of this level of dark magic in any ancient text.
Holding her breath, she mentally thanked Yennefer, who had thoughtfully protected the place with a magic circle, preventing dark magic from spreading beyond the area.
When she was a safe distance away from the house, Triss looked up and took a long look at the building through the sunlight.
- What abysses lie beyond your walls? - She asked quietly, addressing the house as if it were a living thing.
She had about as much chance of solving this mystery on her own as she had of finding a virgin in a brothel. So, gathering her thoughts, she decided that the most sensible thing to do was to pass the information on to Yennefer. After all, she might possess the keys to solving this mystery. A thought flashed through her mind:
- “Maybe Yennefer knows more than she's saying.”
Walking through the narrow streets of Novigrad, Triss couldn't shake the feeling of guilt she felt toward Ciri. Why hadn't Yennefer brought her into this case? After all, Ciri was a witch, albeit a young one with incredible potential. The thought that the girl could have helped made her stop in the middle of the square.
- Stop, Triss! - She told herself. - You were afraid of hurting her, too.
Merigold remembered the long months of silence between them, when every meeting had seemed impossible. The quill in her hand trembled as she tried to draft a letter full of indecision and fear of appearing weak.
Triss wanted to protect Ciri from all the adversity her life was filled with. She imagined how the girl would rush to her aid without thinking of her own dangers, and her heart squeezed with tenderness and pain.
Yes, Triss understood Yennefer now, she wouldn't have asked Ciri for help herself. But she wanted to see her so badly. Perhaps when she got her metamorphosis sorted out, she would find Ciri herself and.... Triss didn't know what would happen. Maybe Ciri wouldn't even speak to her, for most likely she held a grudge.
Immersed in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, Triss didn't notice as the streets of Novigrad gradually led her to the brothel, the place she had shamefully fled from that morning.
The girl stopped, as if frozen in the center of an inner conflict. Her eyes reflected the lights from the building's windows, and the wind played with her hair as if whispering words of encouragement and doubt at the same time.
- “It's necessary,” - She kept telling herself, feeling her pulse pounding in her temples. Her metamorphosis, requiring sexual contact for its completion, was becoming more and more obsessive. With each passing day, the tension inside was building, and Triss realized she needed to break that barrier. If not for the sake of herself and her body, then for the chance to meet Ciri, for the meeting she dreamed of.
But shame mixed with shyness made her heart beat faster. She had always been noted for her inner strength and independence, but this situation seemed especially vulnerable and unfamiliar.
Triss took a deep breath, trying to regain the confidence that had always helped her in times of need. She looked up at the sky, where the sun and clouds seemed to be watching her sympathetically.
Triss was tired of feeling sorry for herself and withdrawing from her friends. The long two years of loneliness had been torture for her, but she had driven herself into it all. Her soul had longed for companionship and intimacy for those two years, and this mistake and the further metamorphosis of her body were just the catalyst to break the cycle.
Slowly but surely, she approached the entrance to the brothel. The creaky steps, covered in a layer of time and history, seemed endless, but each step she took seemed to lead her down the right path. Even though she was still vulnerable, she still had plenty of problems, but she realized it was a matter of courage. And once she walked through the doors of the brothel, there would be no turning back to her reclusive life.
The leather of the door, steeped in the history of the past, and the intricate metal jewelry, like symbols of ancient rites, evoked mixed feelings of both fear and pride. Before the last obstacle, Triss paused briefly, letting her thoughts and emotions settle like waves on the surface of water.
With an effort to overcome the last vestiges of embarrassment and uncertainty, she grasped the metal handle firmly, swung the door open, and stepped inside.
THE END OF PART THREE