Chapter 101: Yaevin's Heartfelt Confession

First Shani, then Dandelion. The departure of two friends naturally brought a touch of melancholy, but life had to move on.

Resuming his routine of reading and jogging, the sensation once caused by the "Dragonborn Poet" faded into silence after a few days without any new anecdotes to fuel the fire.

Victor felt a heartfelt sense of relief; with a troublemaker like Dandelion gone, peace and quiet indeed returned to the world, and even Angoulême's injuries seemed to heal faster.

Before leaving the house, he caught sight of the girl leaning over the dining table, intently studying a slip of paper—a copy of the Scoia'tael's coded message he had handed to her a few days ago.

He leaned in to watch. "Well? Figured anything out?"

"Almost. I'm close to cracking it. Just give me a little more time," she waved him away.

Seeing his crew member so engrossed in her work filled the leader's heart with pride. He decided to reward her with two extra apple pies for dinner.

Shouldering his herbalist pack, he set out to meet Yaevinn and collect his reward for delivering the letter. Victor hadn't wanted to act as a courier, but the offered compensation was simply too tempting: a rare alchemical ingredient that happened to be essential for the Trial of the Grasses.

However, after his two conversations with Thaler of the intelligence agency, the youth was certain they were about to make some major waves. The King's Eye wouldn't have targeted him without good reason.

Thus, the boy felt he had gotten the short end of the stick. He needed to demand more money!

Even if the elven commander was highly unlikely to offer more, Victor needed to make his stance clear and temporarily sever ties with the Scoia'tael.

...

Standing on the high ground of the swampy forest, he looked out at the logging camp in the distance. The laborers there were not just humans; there were also non-humans, with elves being the fewest and dwarves slightly outnumbering them.

"I said we should talk and enjoy some unique scenery, and you bring me here?"

"I felt like looking at this place today, so here we are. Can't you keep me company for a while?"

Victor turned his head to observe Yaevinn, noticing a few streaks of gray in his black hair. It seemed he hadn't been doing well lately, perhaps due to overwork.

Apart from the two of them, Yaevinn had only brought along the elven scout—an old acquaintance of Victor's. The three of them stood in the thicket, peering down at the logging camp.

"Do you come here to watch often? Does this scene show you a future where humans and non-humans coexist in harmony? I recall their slogan during the tour was 'Work makes me happy.'"

"...You are remarkably cynical. Or do you truly believe this is what harmony looks like? No, I come here to witness how humans exploit my kin and enslave non-humans, to steel my resolve to fight to the very end. You must understand, it is only thanks to our resistance that their compliance carries any value, and why even the poorest policies protecting non-humans are implemented at all."

"I shall reserve my judgment on that perspective."

"You are welcome to do so. Now, you said you wanted to talk. What is on your mind?"

"When you sent me to deliver that letter, you never warned me that the Scoia'tael were being watched by Thaler. I was nearly caught. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Yaevinn's narrow eyes fixed on the distance, where a dwarven overseer was lashing an elf with a whip. They were too far to discern the reason.

After a moment of thought, he turned and said, "My apologies. I didn't know beforehand either. I have no wish to drag you into this—at least, not yet."

Staring into the elf's eyes, Victor believed him. Even if he sided with them now, it would be a drop in the bucket. A witcher skilled at slaying monsters was of little use to Yaevinn's cause, perhaps even less useful than a reliable courier.

"This time, you really must pay me more! Thaler stripped me of everything during the search. Anyone else would have ended up enjoying the hospitality of a dungeon, let alone delivering the letter. And we shouldn't contact each other for a while."

Yaevinn let out a sharp laugh. "Very well. But as for coin, I have none. If you need any other materials, ask the herbalist in the city slums. I will let him know."

Reaching out to take the Manticore venom gland handed to him by Yaevinn, Victor couldn't help but offer a piece of advice.

"Why not take your men back to Dol Blathanna? The elven kingdom rebuilt by Francesca is, after all, your homeland."

"Impossible! Dol Blathanna may be my homeland, but I will never accept that bitch's rule. I will never forget her betrayal—binding thirty-two officers of the Vrihedd Brigade and handing them over to the Northern Kingdoms. Nor will I forget what she said to us that day: 'For the future of the Aen Seidhe!' Thirty loyal officers did not fall on the battlefield, but were hanged on gallows, all because they faithfully executed orders to sabotage transport and disrupt production. After the war, they were branded war criminals who slaughtered civilians."

He struck the tree trunk with a heavy fist, sending a shower of leaves rustling down.

"Francesca will never be my queen. I will never return to Dol Blathanna and place my fate in her hands again."

"But you should also think of those who follow you."

"I have thought it through. If I return, the Northern Kingdoms will demand that Dol Blathanna hand us over. Staying here to fight is our only hope."

"I know you are waiting for war, my friend. When the Third Nilfgaardian War breaks out, the Southern Empire and Dol Blathanna will once again remember the Scoia'tael and call upon your strength. As long as they achieve total victory, you will be set free. That is what you think, isn't it? But even if the South wins, though your subordinates might be saved, you will certainly die. Emperor Emhyr var Emreis, seeking to secure his rule, will never tolerate a notorious executioner like you. You are a stain that must be wiped away."

"I do not care. I do this for Dol Blathanna, not for that bitch. When victory comes, I will flee far away, to a place where no one knows me. Do you know why I joined the Scoia'tael in the first place?"

"My advice was merely a friendly warning before we part. If you are about to tell a touching story, save your breath. I have no particular desire to hear it."

"But I wish to share it now," he said, pushing himself off the beech tree he was leaning against and walking toward the docks. "I will see you off. You will have plenty of time along the way to listen to the dark secrets in the depths of my soul."

With a sigh, the youth quickened his pace to keep up, while the elven scout followed silently behind. In their last two encounters, the scout's expression had been quite grim, lacking the warmth of their first meeting.

...

The black-haired elf's story was clichéd to the extreme. Compared to countless other similar tales, his rich, operatic baritone voice was its greatest saving grace.

"I once lived in a city full of humans. Honest and industrious, I respected all their absurd customs and laws. Assimilation—I lived under that word for years. During that time, I was cheated, mocked, and occasionally beaten and robbed. Yet I did not hate humans. I felt superior to them. I told myself they simply could not control the weaknesses of their character, that these were their flaws, and I must tolerate them. I was robbed three times, just as frequently as anyone else, and racial slurs were often smeared on my door in dung. For years, I wondered if I had done something wrong. What could I do to bring peace to my life? Do you know what I finally realized?"

"I don't. But I'm sure you're about to tell me," Victor replied calmly.

"I did nothing wrong. Looking for faults in myself is like climbing a tree to find fish, or diving into the ocean to hunt for deer. I was chasing non-existent outcomes in the wrong places. I could never find peace in human society. Just as the moon can never catch the sun, humans will never change."

*Humans do change. Just give them another thousand years of evolution, probably...*

"They stubbornly cling to their selfishness, jealousy, narrow-mindedness, and fear of the unknown—and believe me, many other flaws besides. On the day I realized this, I left the city and joined the Scoia'tael."

"And now you are quite similar to humans. Congratulations. I mean the flawed parts... like the beating, the robbing, and the racial prejudice."

...

Watching from afar as the boat slowly drifted away from the shore toward the center of the lake, the elven scout asked Yaevinn, "Why not keep Victor here? He clearly suspects something. Even if we don't harm him, we could at least detain him."

"Control your hatred. Do not direct it at the wrong target. Losing brothers is painful for you, and it is for me as well, but that is precisely why we must distinguish friend from foe. He is not a friend yet, but he is certainly not an enemy. Pushing a potential friend into the enemy's camp is the height of folly."

He patted the elven scout on the shoulder.

"Besides," Yaevinn continued thoughtfully, "a rationalist like him is bound to have a trump card. Even if we win a confrontation with him, he will make the victor suffer dearly."

"Let us head back. It is time to make our move."