In the spring of 1272, on a warm morning near the village of White Orchard in the former territory of Temeria, two travelers rode side by side.
At first glance, both appeared to have heads of white hair. On closer inspection, however, one of them was clearly not elderly. His white hair was perhaps a side effect of the mutations his body had undergone through the use of potions...
That's right!
One look into their eyes was enough for anyone to realize they were witchers. Those with better sources of information could even easily identify the travelers as Vesemir, master of the School of the Wolf, and the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia.
And naturally, such famous witchers had not appeared in this remote village by mere coincidence.
Half a month earlier, just as the winter snow had begun to thaw, Geralt had received a letter from an "old friend." It carried the scent of lilac and gooseberries and invited him to meet at Willoughby, a village near Vizima, saying there was something extremely important they needed to discuss.
Faced with these "instructions" from Yennefer, Geralt, whose memories had fully returned, chose to make for the appointed location as quickly as possible.
Unfortunately, he arrived one step too late.
The entire village had already been razed by warring armies, and the sorceress had vanished without a trace.
Confronted with this sudden predicament, the witcher did not give up. With Vesemir's help, Geralt continued tracking Yennefer.
After examining every trace they could find, they concluded that the sorceress had ridden rapidly northward. The direction of her journey across battlefields and wasteland would most likely take her through the remote village of White Orchard...
So they decided to head there and gather information.
...
Sunlight filtered through the canopy, and the spring breeze felt cool against their faces.
Roach, who had just finished eating her carrots, stepped along briskly.
Roach was the name Geralt gave every horse he rode.
And now, seated on Roach's back, the White Wolf quietly asked the master riding beside him,
"Master, how far behind Yennefer do you think we are?"
Vesemir's wise eyes swept across the dirt beneath them. Drawing upon his wealth of experience, he confidently replied,
"Two or three days, perhaps? The tracks on the road are still fairly fresh, but we're about to reach the main road. Once we do, they won't be nearly as easy to follow."
"Then we'd better pick up the pace. Combined with the nightmare I had before dawn, I've got a very bad feeling about this."
As he spoke, Geralt lightly squeezed his horse's flanks and accelerated.
Remembering the nightmare Geralt had described earlier, Ciri as a child being hunted by the Wild Hunt, Vesemir urged his own horse forward to keep pace.
"If your dream really means Ciri is in trouble, Victor might be able to help. His Burning Omen predicted something about this two years ago."
The two horses broke into a faster gallop, their hooves hammering the earth and kicking up clouds of dust.
"I'm already regretting that I didn't question him more closely back then. And now I don't even know where the hell he's gone."
"According to the message Leo left behind, Victor went to Toussaint last winter to investigate an incident. If everything went smoothly, he should be in Novigrad by now. He owns quite a substantial business there."
"Mm. Once I've met Yennefer, I'll go find him. That damned Burning Omen has been accurate to an unbelievable degree."
"Indeed. When Victor first made those predictions, we all thought he was joking. Who could have imagined that a kingdom as powerful as Temeria would collapse so completely... And the course of the war seems to be turning increasingly unfavorable for us."
Geralt raised an eyebrow.
"Us? Since when did we take a side?"
"I normally don't care about politics, but compared with the Black Ones, I certainly feel closer to the Northern Kingdoms!" Vesemir answered heartily.
Thinking back on the tremendous upheavals of the past year, even Geralt, whose restored memories contained countless storms and hardships, had to admit they were now living through a strange new Time of Contempt.
An age in which the old rules had been crushed to pieces, while new values had yet to take their place.
"It pains me to say this, my dear witcher master, but there aren't really any Northern Kingdoms left anymore. Redania and Kaedwen belong to Radovid, while Temeria and Aedirn belong to Emhyr var Emreis."
"Radovid swore that once the war is won, he'll restore the old borders."
"You actually believe him? You're joking..."
"A man has to believe in something if he wants to keep moving forward."
As their leisurely conversation continued, the two men galloped past ruined villages and abandoned fields.
Before long, White Orchard appeared in the distance.
...
...
Looking back on the recently ended year of 1271, it had been a year no one would ever forget.
Three witchers who had come north from the south used assassination to shake the foundations of the entire world.
Kingslayers!
From early spring to midsummer, they first assassinated Demavend, King of Aedirn, and then Foltest, King of Temeria, throwing the Northern Kingdoms into violent turmoil.
Then, during the Loc Muinne Summit at the end of summer, the captured kingslayer Letho revealed that the true masterminds behind the assassinations had been none other than the sinister Lodge of Sorceresses.
Seven sorceresses led by Philippa Eilhart were declared responsible for this terrifying crime.
The other six were Síle de Tansarville, Triss Merigold, Margarita Laux-Antille, Assire var Anahid, Fringilla Vigo, and Keira Metz.
Sorceresses whose names had once been renowned throughout the world became infamous overnight, planting the seeds for the witch hunts that would follow.
...
Autumn, 1271.
Nilfgaard did not allow the chaos consuming the Northern Kingdoms to go to waste.
The empire in the south brazenly tore up the Peace of Cintra.
The iron armies serving Emperor Emhyr var Emreis crossed the Yaruga and launched an offensive across the entire front, from the Blue Mountains to Velen.
Aedirn and Temeria, which bore the brunt of the invasion, collapsed almost at first contact.
Their defeat was unexpected, yet perfectly understandable.
In Aedirn, the newly crowned King Stennis I had not even had time to reclaim the power vacuum in Upper Aedirn left behind by Saskia the Dragon Maiden before the Black Ones' ferocious offensive caught him completely unprepared.
Trapped inside his capital of Vengerberg, he desperately waited for reinforcements.
Unfortunately, even after twenty days, when the city finally fell, no reinforcements had arrived.
With no hope remaining, he leaped from a tower to his death, and with that, Aedirn's destruction was complete.
The situation in Temeria was little better.
Although Anaïs La Valette had briefly become the figure around whom Temeria could rally, Regent Natalis lacked the political skill necessary to control the kingdom's greedy nobles.
As a direct result, even when Nilfgaard invaded, their struggles for power and mutual betrayals did not cease.
Temeria's capital, Vizima, soon fell as well.
The iron hooves of the Black Ones trampled across the land, and the Temerian lilies finally withered.
...
As for the other two great powers of the North, Henselt, King of Kaedwen, once again displayed the instincts of a carrion boar.
While Aedirn lay dying, he once again sent his army into Upper Aedirn and successfully swallowed the territory he had coveted for so long.
Unfortunately, he did not get to enjoy his victory for very long.
While Henselt was busy seizing his prize, someone else was waiting to strike.
Radovid, the young King of Redania, displayed seasoned military skill and extraordinary strategic talent.
His forces boldly crossed the permanently snow-covered Kestrel Mountains and launched a surprise attack against the capital of Kaedwen.
Henselt, lord of Ard Carraigh, was defeated and burned himself to death.
This military gamble, miraculous by any measure, allowed Radovid to annex Kaedwen and rapidly absorb its troops into his own forces.
Nor were his achievements limited to the battlefield.
He also launched sweeping political reforms.
The king regarded mages as the root of all evil and began the witch hunts, systematically purging the influence of magic users.
With Radovid's authorization, witch hunters devoted to the Church of the Eternal Fire spread across his territories. Armed with anti-magic equipment, they hunted down every mage and practitioner of magic they could find, confiscating the wealth accumulated by their victims to finance the war against Nilfgaard.
Thus, horrific atrocities spread like wildfire across the North.
Because of the king's deep cunning, merciless methods, and utterly ruthless nature, people increasingly referred to him behind his back as Radovid the Stern.
...
And so, when winter arrived and the other kingdoms were collapsing before the Black Ones, Radovid instead completely stabilized his position.
Commanding powerful Redanian legions, he confronted the Nilfgaardian armies across the Pontar.
With these brilliant achievements, he became the most successful monarch in the history of the Northern Kingdoms!
Whatever people might think of him, for good or ill, every clear-headed observer now agreed on one thing.
Radovid V the Stern was the final bulwark standing between Emperor Emhyr var Emreis of Nilfgaard and dominion over the world.
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