Witcher: Sovereign of Magic

The longship creaked and groaned, its timbers protesting against the relentless waves as Geralt's vessel, the Atropos, limped towards Skellige. He'd paid Captain Wolverstone a hefty sum for passage, a decision he was now bitterly regretting. The drunken captain, smelling more of stale ale than sea salt, had led them straight into a pirate ambush, a chaotic melee of steel and shouting that had ended with the Atropos splintering against the jagged rocks and Geralt washing ashore on Ard Skellig, considerably poorer and slightly more damp.

"Well, this is just fantastic," Geralt muttered to himself, spitting out a mouthful of seawater. He staggered to his feet, his muscles aching and his head throbbing. He'd lost his sword, most of his gear, and, most importantly, a significant chunk of his coin.

A gruff voice interrupted his self-pity. "Well now, what have we here? Looks like the sea coughed up a corpse."

Geralt turned to see a burly Skelligan, his face weathered and his eyes glinting with avarice. He was clearly a scavenger, hoping to capitalize on the shipwreck.

"Not quite dead yet," Geralt growled, though his voice lacked conviction.

The Skelligan chuckled. "Close enough. Hand over your valuables, and I'll make your passing quick."

Geralt sighed. He really didn't have the energy for this. "I don't have much," he said, patting his damp tunic. "Just a few coins and a damp wolf medallion."

The Skelligan sneered. "Don't try to fool me. I saw you come ashore. You're a rich one, I'll wager."

Geralt considered his options. He could try to fight the man, but he was unarmed and exhausted. He could try to reason with him, but the glint in the Skelligan's eye suggested he wasn't the reasonable type. Then he remembered Yennefer.

"Actually," Geralt said, a sly grin spreading across his face. "I'm a friend of Yennefer of Vengerberg."

The Skelligan's eyes widened. "Yennefer? The sorceress?"

"That's right," Geralt said. "And she's expecting me. So, if you'll excuse me…"

The Skelligan hesitated, his greed warring with his fear of the powerful sorceress. Finally, he stepped aside. "Alright, go on. But if you're lying…"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Geralt said, and with a nod, he continued his trek towards Kaer Trolde.

The path was steep and treacherous, winding its way up the craggy cliffs. Geralt's damp clothes clung to his skin, chilling him to the bone. He cursed Wolverstone's name with every step. He reached Kaer Trolde, a sprawling fortress perched high above the harbor. The sounds of mournful chanting drifted from within its walls.

Reaching the harbor, he found the Skelligans gathered, a somber crowd observing the funeral rites for their King Bran. He spotted Yennefer amidst the mourners, her distinctive lilac scent drifting through the air. She was dressed in elegant black attire, a stark contrast to the roughspun garments of the islanders.

"Geralt," she greeted, her voice cool and composed. "You made it. I trust your journey was… memorable?"

"Memorable is one word for it," Geralt replied dryly. "Wolverstone won't be sailing again. Pirates saw to that. And my coin purse is considerably lighter."

Yennefer raised an eyebrow. "A pity. Though, perhaps it's for the best. He was a known drunkard."

They joined the throng, observing the rituals. The air was thick with the smell of roasted meats, strong ale, and the somber undertones of mourning. As the ceremony concluded, Yennefer drew Geralt aside.

"Bran's death… it's more complicated than it seems," she murmured. "There's talk of foul play."

"And you think Ciri is involved?" Geralt asked.

"I don't know," Yennefer admitted. "But there was a powerful magical surge here recently. It was… significant. It might be connected."

"A magical surge?" Geralt frowned.

"Yes," Yennefer confirmed. "Powerful enough to be felt across the islands. It coincided with Bran's death. It might be nothing, but…"

"But it's worth investigating," Geralt finished.

"Precisely," Yennefer agreed. "And I have a plan. But first, there's the wake."

The wake was a boisterous affair, a strange mix of mourning and celebration. Geralt found himself sharing a table with Cerys an Craite and other Jarls' sons. He even found himself briefly participating in a foot race up a mountain (at Cerys's urging), a surprisingly strenuous activity after his shipwreck ordeal. Yennefer, meanwhile, was engaged in her own investigations, speaking with various Skelligan dignitaries.

Later, as the ale flowed freely and the mood grew more raucous, Yennefer pulled Geralt aside. "I need your help," she said, her voice low and urgent. "I'm going to break into Ermion's laboratory."

"Ermion's laboratory?" Geralt repeated, surprised. "Why?"

"I need something," Yennefer explained. "The Mask of Uroboros. It will help us see echoes of the past, perhaps shed some light on the magical surge… and Bran's death."

"And you're just going to break in and take it?" Geralt asked, incredulous.

"Ermion won't give it to me willingly," Yennefer said. "He's… protective of his artifacts."

"And what makes you so sure this… mask… will show us anything?" Geralt asked.

Yennefer sighed. "It's a hunch, Geralt. A strong one. I've been sensing… traces. Faint echoes of magic. They're tied to this surge, I'm sure of it. And Ermion, bless his heart, is the keeper of all sorts of arcane trinkets. This Mask… it might allow us to see what happened."

"And if it doesn't?" Geralt asked.

"Then we'll find another lead," Yennefer said, her violet eyes flashing with determination. "But I have a feeling… this is important."

"You always have a feeling," Geralt muttered, though he couldn't help but smile.

"And I'm usually right," Yennefer retorted. "Besides, I've been thinking about Avalon."

"Avalon?" Geralt's eyebrows shot up. "You're still thinking about that?"

"Yes," Yennefer said. "Solomon's invitation… it's been weighing on my mind."

"You mean when he offered you passage in front of Emhyr?" Geralt asked.

"Exactly," Yennefer replied. "It wasn't just an invitation, Geralt. It was… an offer. A chance to be part of something… bigger."

"Bigger than what?" Geralt asked.

"Bigger than kingdoms and empires," Yennefer said. "Bigger than politics and wars. Avalon… it's different. It's a place of power, a place where magic thrives. And Solomon… he's the key."

"And you're seriously considering joining them?" Geralt asked.

"I'm considering all my options," Yennefer said. "I know people there, Geralt. Kiera, Sile, Triss, Margarita… they're all in Avalon."

Geralt frowned. "They're all there?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He'd been the one to help Kiera and Triss contact Solomon, after all. He also knew Kaer Morhen had a long-standing trade agreement with Avalon. They supplied the Witchers with rare and potent mutagens, while Kaer Morhen provided them with specialized alchemical ingredients. He could visit Avalon whenever he needed.

"Yes," Yennefer confirmed. "And I'm trying to decide if I should join them."

"And what about… us?" Geralt asked.

Yennefer met his gaze. "What about us, Geralt?"

"We're looking for Ciri," Geralt said. "That's our priority."

"I know," Yennefer said. "And I haven't forgotten that. But Avalon… it could be important. It could be connected. I need to explore all possibilities."

"And you think going to Avalon is the best way to do that?" Geralt asked.

"I don't know," Yennefer admitted. "But I have a feeling… it's worth investigating. It's a big decision, Geralt. And I need time to think. But first… Ermion's Mask."

Their infiltration of Ermion's lab was… eventful. It involved a trophy room filled with surprisingly lifelike stuffed animals (which, to Geralt's surprise and slight embarrassment, turned out to be less stuffed and more… animated), a secret passage concealed behind a bookshelf, and a rather grumpy earth elemental guarding the Mask of Uroboros. The elemental proved a formidable opponent, its rocky hide resistant to Geralt's meager remaining weaponry. Yennefer, however, unleashed a torrent of magical energy, finally subduing the creature. They secured the Mask, a beautifully crafted artifact of polished obsidian.

"Now," Yennefer said, as they emerged from the laboratory, "we can begin."