The Witcher

THE LIMITS OF THE POSSIBLE IX

Jaskier tried to wake the still unconscious Dorregaray, casting anxious glances at the Zerricanians who continued to survey the battlefield attentively. Geralt salved and dressed Yennefer's burnt ankles. The sorceress hissed in pain and muttered curses under her breath.

Having finished with this task, Geralt got up.

"Stay here," he said, "I need to talk to the dragon."

Yennefer, wincing, rose.

"I'll go with you, Geralt." She took him by the hand. "Can I? Please, Geralt."

"With me, Yen? I thought that..."

"Don't think."

She clung to his shoulder.

"Yen?"

"Everything is okay now, Geralt."

He looked into her eyes, which were now as warm as they once were in the past. He bent and kissed her on the lips. They were hot, soft and yearning. As they once were in the past.

They approached the dragon. Yennefer, supported by Geralt, made a very low courtesy as if she were before a king, holding the hemline of her dress with the tips of her fingers.

"Three Jack-... Villentretenmerth...," stated the witcher.

"My name means literally in your language ' three black birds '," explained Borch.

The young dragon clutched Three Jackdaws' forearm with its claws and stretched out his neck to receive a caress.

"Order and Chaos," said Villentretenmerth, smiling. "Remember, Geralt? Chaos represents aggression, while order represents the means to protect itself from it. Shouldn't we go to the ends of the earth to stand against aggression and evil, Geralt? Especially when, as you said, the wage is attractive. As it was in this case. It was the treasure of the female dragon 59

Myrgatabrakke, poisoned near Holopole. It was she who called me so that I could help her to neutralize the evil that threatened her. Myrgatabrakke flew off shortly after Eyck de Denesle had been removed from the field of battle. She had time to escape during your debates and quarrels, leaving me her treasure, in other words, my wage."

The young dragon chirped and flapped its wings.

"Therefore, you..."

"Yes," interrupted the dragon. "It's necessary in this day and age. The creatures that you commonly call monsters have felt, for some time, more and more threatened by humans.

They don't know how to defend themselves and they need a protector... a witcher."

"And the goal at the end of the path?"

"Here it is." Villentretenmerth raised his forearm; frightened, the young dragon started to chirp. "Here is my goal, my purpose. Thanks to him, I shall prove, Geralt of Rivia, that there is no limit as to what's possible. You too, one day, will discover such a purpose, witcher.

Even those who are different deserve to live. Goodbye, Geralt. Goodbye, Yennefer."

The sorceress courtesied once again, steadying herself firmly on Geralt's shoulder.

Villentretenmerth stood up and looked at her, his face very serious.

"Excuse my boldness and my frankness, Yennefer. It's written on your faces, I don't even need to read your thoughts. You were made for each other, you and the witcher. But nothing will come of it. Nothing. I'm sorry."

"I know." Yennefer turned a little pale. "I know, Villentretenmerth. But I too would like to believe that there is no limit as to what's possible or at least that this limit is very distant."

Vea went up to Geralt. She whispered to him, touching his shoulder. The dragon laughed.

"Geralt, Vea wants you to know that she will never forget the tub at the Pensive Dragon. She hopes that she will see you again."

"What?" Yennefer asked, blinking anxiously.

"Nothing," the witcher replied quickly. "Villentretenmerth..."

"I'm listening, Geralt of Rivia."

"You can take all forms. Whatever you wish?"

"Yes."

"Why transform into a human? Why Borch, with the coat of arms of three black birds?"

The dragon gave him a broad smile.

"It's hard for me to say, Geralt, in what circumstances our respective forefathers had their first meeting, but I know that for dragons nothing is more loathsome than man. Man awakens in dragons an instinctive and irrational hatred. I am an exception. To me... you are quite likeable. Goodbye."

It was not a gradual transformation, like the hazy disappearance of an illusion. It took place in the blink of an eye. In place of where there was, a moment earlier, a curly-haired knight in a tunic adorned with three black birds there now appeared a golden dragon, stretching his long slender neck gracefully. Bowing his head, the dragon unfurled wings that shone brilliant gold in the rays of the sun. Yennefer sighed loudly.

Vea, already in the saddle next to Tea, waved goodbye.

"Vea," said the witcher, "you were right."

"Hmm?"

"He is definitely the most beautiful."