[pfsb] the mirrors of the wheel

[blue_ajah]

The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, and all things are part of the Pattern. There is little that she can do now but wait, guard against events worsening as best she can, and watch.

As a result, Moiraine is in the bar this evening, musing over her thoughts with a cup of tea at hand and a slender, leather-bound journal open to a blank page before her.

Comments

[bialy_wilk]

The witcher considers for a long moment, then nods. "I do," he agrees. "But those matters will be a little easier to manage with some extra coin in my pocket. Besides – "

His rare, wry smile is back, more a softening of his mouth and a crinkle at the edge of his golden eyes than anything else. "You can't help Ciri if you get killed by some demonic spirit. One more reason to do it."

[blue_ajah]

Moiraine's answering smile is warm with understanding. "I will do what I can for her," she promises. "Here or elsewhere."

Light willing, it will not be a situation as desperate as when she felt it necessary to make clear to Rand just how far she was willing to go to prevent him falling into the Dark One's hands.

[bialy_wilk]

He nods at her. "Then the last thing to agree on is price. A hundred crowns seems fair, for the risk. Not sure what that might translate to, for your currency."

[blue_ajah]

"I am willing to accept that as a fair price. And as it happens, I am accustomed to managing business in different coin, both here and in my own birth world."

She touches the carafe, offering silently to refill his glass for him. "I presume you will need a few days to make your own arrangements so that you may freely travel?"

[bialy_wilk]

He nods to her silent invitation, then glances at the door. "I'd like to stock up on a few things, yeah. I won't need long. Day or two, at most."

[blue_ajah]

She pours the wine with a deft grace. "Of course. I keep a set of rooms here, so you will have no trouble finding me, I expect."

[bialy_wilk]

"Guess not." Most of the time, when a sorceress lets him know she has rooms at an inn, it's not so he can easily find her for a contract. This is a fairly unique situation in which he finds himself.

He waits for her to finish pouring, then lifts the goblet in thanks. "And don't worry. I don't take payment until after all services have been rendered."

[blue_ajah]

She sets the carafe aside and raises her own glass to him in acknowledgement. "As you prefer. You are the expert, after all."

[bialy_wilk]

"So they tell me." He sips at his wine, relaxing back into his chair.

"Don't have anything like witchers in your world?"

[blue_ajah]

"I am not certain that we do," she murmurs. "Fighters, certainly; swordsmen as well, including those who have devoted themselves to fighting monsters of various kinds for various reasons. Those with golden eyes, as you and I have touched on. But these mutations you mentioned before, that is unfamiliar to me in the way you speak of it."

[bialy_wilk]

"Just as well," he tells her. "The process is damned dangerous. Lost plenty of brothers just to the mutagens, let alone later on the Path."

[blue_ajah]

"The Path?" she asks. "In my birth world, I am only familiar with one person who sought to change living creatures through experiments. It did not end well."

[bialy_wilk]

"We're itinerant," he explains. "Witchers travel alone, wandering the continent, most of the year. Call it being on the Path."

The rest of her statement deserves a shrug, which is what he gives. "Only one? Prefer your world, then. People can't seem to stop meddling in mine."

[blue_ajah]

"I see." For an instant, there is a flicker of something almost wistful about her slight smile. "Do you have a direction to your travels, or do you instead pursue where need takes you?"

She makes no comment on people who meddle, which given how often Aes Sedai have been accused of such - and not without reason - is probably just as well.

[bialy_wilk]

"The latter, usually. Sometimes receive a summons to come to one place or another, but that's the exception."

He sets aside his glass, considering it. "Sometimes I'll winter back at Kaer Morhen. Home of the School of the Wolf."

[blue_ajah]

"Where you were trained." Given what he had said before about being their product, it is not precisely a guess. "What is your school like?"

[bialy_wilk]

He nods to her deduction. "Ruined," he says, blunt. "Literally and metaphorically. Only a handful of us left, and the keep itself is in bad shape from the last time someone stormed it."

[blue_ajah]

She draws a soft breath, and forces her thoughts away from Tar Valon with the strength of trained will.

“Do you seek to rebuild?”

[bialy_wilk]

"No." This, too, is blunt, though there's something a little softer about it. He shakes his head. "Couldn't even if we wanted to. The methods of making witchers were lost years ago. When the last of us goes, that'll be the end of it all."

[blue_ajah]

She nods, and does him the courtesy of not offering meaningless platitudes in the face of what he has just told her. "Difficult times, at the ends of Ages."

[bialy_wilk]

"Everything ends," he says, with a degree of certainty that suggests he's seen plenty of things end before. "The elves say va'esse deireádh aep eigean, va'esse eigh faidh'ar. Something ends; something begins."

[blue_ajah]

"We have a similar perspective," she says. "As the Wheel of Time turns, the ending of one thing is the beginning of another."

[bialy_wilk]

He huffs a half-amused breath. "Hopefully not the same thing starting all over again," he says. "But I guess we'll see."

Or someone will. It seems optimistic in the extreme to assume he'd be alive to watch it happen.

[blue_ajah]

"I suppose we will," she agrees, with a slight smile. "One way or another."

[bialy_wilk]

He lifts his glass to her in a wry toast.

"Hopefully not anytime soon."