"Iwan, slow down!" Gawel called out as he walked along behind the excited boy.

Iwan turned as he ran backwards, his mismatched eyes sparkling in delight. "I want to see!" he exclaimed eagerly and he turned back again to run further up the hill.

Gawel simply sighed. It was reassuring to him to see Iwan acting more like the boy he was instead of the part monster he had been changed into. The mutations he had gone through six months ago had changed his appearance so dramatically that Vesimir, their teacher and a father figure, had been worried that they may have warped his mind. And for a while Gawel worried the same. If Iwan turned out to be more monster than human it was Gawel's job to kill him, to kill the boy he saw as his only son since he could not father children himself. Such a thought still terrified Gawel, though it was easing a little more each day.

Since dispatching the Koschey and the crazed mage who had created it, a ferocious battle in which Gawel's best friend Jarek had been seriously injured, the three weary friends headed back to Kaer Moren, both to ensure Jarek got the healing he needed and to rest and recover themselves. They had stayed there a month before Gawel started to get itchy feet again. He had said once that he longed to go some place warm, though that was in response to an injury that was all but healed now. Nonetheless the whim stayed with him and nearly as soon as Jarek was out of danger and well on the mend he was already pouring over maps trying to work out where they could go. Iwan had recovered well from his mutation and as they travelled every month Sara used a portal to bring them back to Kaer Morhen where the boy went through his monthly assessments, physical, mental, and temperament. So far he was passing and, as they were getting further and further from familiar territory, Vesimir had allowed him to carry a live blade on his back. It was just a simple steel blade, not the twin blades of a full witcher as he had yet to earn them, but he was now trusted enough to carry one blade so long as Gawel remained with him. For the most part they had avoided cities and only ventured into towns when they needed to stock up on supplies. Or if Sara was craving a bath. Gawel didn't want to stress the boy's new enhanced senses before he was used to them. Whenever they went to town Sara cast and obscuration spell on his appearance so that his eyes appeared to be the same colour and his teeth lost their fang-like quality. He could quite easily be a squire except for the company he kept.

Glancing to Sara, Gawel smiled and took her hand. It was still a novelty to him to be able to feel such love for another person. Oh, he knew love before, he loved Jarek and Vesimir and Iwan, but that was all the love of a family; Jarek was like his brother, Vesimir his father, and Iwan his son. Sara was different. He loved Sara as lovers should love each other and he would never grow tired of that feeling.

Looking up to keep an ever watchful eye on Iwan, Gawel saw that the boy had stopped at the crest of the hill they were climbing and was simply staring. Reaching the top himself, Gawel mirrored the boy's awed expression. Before them stretched a rocky desert expanse that seemed to go on forever. Already warm, there were shimmering heat waves rising off the sand in the distance, creating a watery effect that he had never seen before. It was truly magical in a way that Sara's magic could never emulate.

"Wow," he said, knowing that even that fell short.

A light breeze tumbled through the sparse trees that dotted the hillside, giving some much needed relief from the warmth of the evening hike. The only one who didn't seem affected by it all was Iwan; that boy had energy for days, and even though Sara felt ready to drop after the days activities, she was still completely entertained by Iwan's gusto.

Just as the boy ran off to crest the hill, Sara debated on rounding up the last of her energy and joining him; that is, until Gawel took her hand. She loved the warmth that spread through her body at his slightest touch, the feel of his calloused hand in hers. She blushed, something she had been doing a lot of since meeting him. In fact, since that day he came into her winterized world, she'd changed a lot. She was back to wearing boots and leggings, her jet black hair went into a braid that fell almost to her hips revealing her Elven ears, and she smiled more than she'd ever done in her life. It was so strange to have her heart rush nearly to bursting whenever she caught him looking at her, her spine tingle with electricity when he said her name, and the world stopped when their eyes met. She had prepared herself for a life alone, away from humans and their hatred and awful ways. But then, Gawel wasn't a human, now, was he?

The couple crested the hill to stand beside a stunned Iwan, all their eyes turned to take in the majesty of the landscape before them. A vast desert stretched before them, dunes rising up like a stormy sea, heat waves rising from the golden sand turning it into a shimmering ocean of nothing. The sunsets fiery rays cast ghostly shadows behind the giant dunes, the heat making them dance.

"Wow."

Sara giggled, "Wow is right."

The three of them stood there staring at the vista for a few more minutes before Iwan started unbuckling the single sword he wore on his back witcher style. "Here," he said. "Hold my sword," handing it to Gawel.

"Iwan, what-" Gawel started before Iwan took off at a run, reaching the very edge of the hill before jumping and diving forwards, rolling over and over and over down the grassy sand dune.

Grinning, Gawel turned to Sara with a contemplative look on his face. It did look like a lot of fun. "Here," he said, handing Iwan's sword to Sara and then unbuckling his own. "Hold my swords," he said handing them to Sara as well. He was well aware that the three swords together would be rather heavy but he was sure she would manage. Well, actually he didn't really give it all that much thought before relinquishing his hold on them and following Iwan's lead, running and taking a dive over the edge of the hill, rolling down the hill. Faster and faster he went, gathering speed and even managing to catch up to Iwan. With his witcher reflexes Gawel reached out and grabbed the boy and the two of them went tumbling over each other all the way to the bottom where they lay panting and laughing, staring up at the darkening sky, neither of them noticing the fast moving cloud on the horizon.

((Think "Here, hold my beer!" lmao))

((Lmao, that's exactly what I thought xD))


Sara stood in stunned silence as the three blades were shoved into her arms and Gawel followed Iwan's daring leap off down the dune. With the blades held against her chest awkwardly, she watched then tumble down the sand, causing small avalanches behind them. A hot wind slid up the sandy face of the hill to hit Sara square on, her hair blowing backwards. Her eyes flicked away from the boys to focus on the horizon where dark clouds were gathering, slowly blocking out the sunset, turning the world prematurely gray.

"Gawel..." She said, knowing he couldn't hear her over his and Iwan's crazed laughter as they wrestled at the bottom of the hill. Adjusting the blades in her arms to a more comfortable position, and she couldn't help but notice just how heavy those blades were, she began her decent down the hill. It was steep, making her slide with each step she took, gravity trying to topple her head first down it to make her join the boys at the bottom. Slowly, she slid-walked down quickly, stopping to readjust her hold on the swords every few steps.

Out of breath, she made it to the bottom, nearly dropping the swords to the ground. "Gawel, look." She nodded her head in the direction of the darkening clouds that seemed to be moving faster than nature could do itself. The hot wind was beginning to pick up, blowing sand into their faces, creating miniature sand tornadoes around them.

"I think now would be a good time to find a place to camp." She said, keeping her voice airy and obviously uncaring, slightly sarcastic, for the brewing storm.

((also this is a well done fan song. I didn't like it all that much at first, but it's really grown on me now :) WITCHER 3 SONG: Wake The White Wolf by Miracle Of Sound - YouTube ))

Gawel had just managed to pin Iwan to the ground - the boy was stronger than he looked! - when Sara reached them and drew his attention to the gathering cloud.

"Where?" he asked blankly, standing and looking around. There were no caves nearby and, even if they backtracked to where they had spent the night last time, the storm would reach them before they got even close. The land before them was barren bar some scrub and rocks.

Grimacing, an idea came to him, though it wasn't going to be comfortable. Taking the swords from Sara, he tossed Iwan's to him, the boy catching it lightly and easily as though it weighed no more than a stick. He didn't fasten his own though, instead he pulled Sara's blanket from the pack he carried on his back. Witchers weren't bothered by the cold and Gawel considered it part of Iwan's training to get used to travelling with as little as possible so they didn't have blankets for themselves. Half elves, unfortunately, didn't have that luxury so the blanket was a necessity for Sara.

"This is going to be an uncomfortable night," he said, heading towards the nearest large rock. Already the wind was whipping the sand up so that it stung any skin left exposed to it and made it difficult to see. He had no doubt that unless they had shelter from it their skin would be rubbed raw if not bleeding by the time morning came. "I'm glad we didn't bring horses with us this time," he added.

Unrolling the blanket he instructed Iwan to take one end to the base of the rock and he held the other end. With Sara in the middle, they were able to lay on the sand with the blanket over all three of them. This was, as Gawel predicted, far from comfortable but the blanket combined with the rock kept the worst of the biting sand from them. Gawel, as the strongest of them, held the end of the blanket that was most at risk of being pulled away by the wind.

And secretly he was glad to be able to spend some time cuddling up to Sara.

"So," he said over the wind. "Know any good stories?"

((Just as a note to any Mod's reading, the following is a story of Rumpelstiltskin, but written in my words, my style, as I remember the story.))



Sara pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and resting her chin on top as the boys pulled the blanket around them all, a make-shift shield against the stinging sand.

"Know any good stories?"

The wind howled against their thin layer of protected, whipping it around. Sara squinted against rogue grains of sand that made it into their bubble.

"Have either of you heard the tale of a crippled, tiny, and wrinkled old gnome?" She asked, raising and lowering her voice as needed to be heard over the wind.

Gawel and Iwan looked at each other over Sara. A wrinkled old gnome.

"You mean the one about the rusulka who disguised himself as a gnome?" Iwan asked.

"Or the mole a while village worshipped as a gnome?" Gawel added. It was clear that witchers had different stories to humans or elves.

Sara widened her eyes as she looked back and forth between the boys. "You mean, you've never heard the story of Rumpelstiltskin?"

As they shook their heads in unison, Sara's eyes brightened.

"Oh, I just love this story! I haven't heard it since I was a little girl, but I'll do my best...

Once upon a time, there was a very poor man, a miller. He had a very beautiful daughter, his only treasure. The man, however, was somewhat of a storyteller, and he began bragging that his daughter was not only beautiful, but could spin straw into gold.
Eventually, the King was told this, and he summoned the miller to his court room, where the miller told the king that yes, his daughter, the most beautiful girl in all the kingdom, could spin straw into gold.
The king, very impressed by this, told the miller, 'That is something that pleases me very much to hear. If your daughter is indeed as talented as you say, bring her tomorrow here to my palace, and I will put her to the test.'
The miller did as the king asked and brought his daughter before him, who was then taken into a room brimming with straw. The king gave her a spinning wheel and a reel, and told her, 'Proceed. If you have not spun all of this straw into gold by morning light, you will be put to death.'
The king then left, locking the door behind him, leaving the poor, beautiful millers daughter alone. So she sat there, having no idea what to do. She had no idea how straw could be spun into gold, and she became more and more terrified as the night passed and morning crept closer. Finally, panic having set in, she fell into tears.
Suddenly, the door opened, and in came a small, winkled gnome who greeted her. 'Good evening, dear girl, why ever are you crying?'
'I have been commanded to spin all of this straw into gold by mornings light, or I shall punished severely, and I know not how to do it!' She cried out to the gnome.
'What will you give me, if I do this task for you?' Inquired the gnarled old gnome.
After a moments pause, 'My necklace.' She answered.
The little gnome took the necklace, sat himself upon the seat in front of the wheel, and what a whirring he made! Three times he turned the wheel, and the reel was full, and another, and another, and another, so on it went until morning, until finally, all the straw was spun, and the reels full of gold."

Sara paused for breath, "So, do you like the story?"

Iwan was frowning as Sara told the story. "I don't think it's possible to spin straw to gold," he said.

"I don't think it's possible to spin straw at all. It would snap," Gawel seconded. "We could trick the gnome though," he said, his mind spinning off in all kinds of possibilities. "A gnome that greedy would be easy to give it something dangerous and make it believe it was valuable."

"But what kind of things would a gnome like? From the story they like jewels or jewelry. We don't really have anything like that," Iwan asked, treating it almost like a lesson again.

"No, we don't, but we could commission a mage to curse a necklace, it would be easy for them. Though getting the mage to agree would be harder."

"Would you boys be quiet? The gnome is magic, so of course he can turn straw into gold. Just listen to the story," Sara chuckled. "Anyway...

As dawn broke over the castle, the king was already there, and when he saw the gold, he was astonished and delighted, his heart near to bursting with greed. He demanded his servants to take the millers daughter into another, larger, room full of straw, and commanded her to also spin this straw into gold in a single night.
The young girl began crying, then the door opened again, and the little man appeared once again and asked, "What will you give me if I spin that straw into gold for you?"
"The ring on my finger," answered the miller's daughter.
The little man took the ring, and again, began to turn the wheel. By morning had spun all the straw into glittering gold.
The king rejoiced at the sight the next morning, but still not enough gold to please his greedy desires. He took the millers daughter into an even larger room full of straw and told her, "You must also spin this tonight, and if you succeed, I shall make you my wife."
When the girl was once again alone with the straw, the little gnome came through the door, asking, "What will you give me if I spin the straw for you this time?"
"I have nothing left I could give you," the miller's daughter cried.
"Then promise me, if you should become queen, to give me your first child," the gnome stated.
The daughter made the promise, her doubts of surviving the night and becoming the queen were greater than the hypothetical loss of her first born. With the promise made, the gnome began to spin the straw into gold.
When the king came in he morning, and found all as he had commanded, he took the young woman to wife, and she became his queen.
A year later, she brought a beautiful baby into the world, forgetting her promise to the wrinkled old gnome. Suddenly one day he appeared before her, saying, "Now give me what you promised."
The queen was devastated and offered the gnome all the riches of the kingdom if he would leave her the baby. The gnome shook his head and answered, "No, something alive is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world."
The queen began to cry in such a fashion that it made the gnome take pity upon her, and he said, "I will give you three days time. If in that time you find out my name, I shall let you keep your child."
The queen thought the whole night of all the names she had ever heard, and she sent a messenger over the country to discover every name there might be. When the gnome came the next day, she read her list and named every name she could think of, but with each name, the gnome only shook his head and replied, "That is not my name."
On the second day, she asked for more and more names around her kingdom, and she repeated each one to the gnome, but again, he always answered, "That is not my name."
The third day, the messenger returned and said, "I have no been able to find a single new name, but as I came to a mountain at the end of the forest, there I saw a little house, and in front of the house was a fire with a little man dancing around it, jumping around on one leg shouting, "Today I bake, tomorrow brew, the next I'll have the young queens child. Ha, glad am I that no one knew that Rumpelstiltskin I am styled."
The queen was overjoyed when she heard the name, and soon afterwards when the gnome came to visit her on the third day, he asked her, "What is my name?"
The queen made a show of looking distressed, asking, "Perhaps your name is Iwan?"
"That is not my name," the gnome replied.
"Perhaps your name is Gawel?"
"That is not my name," he replied again.
The queen then smiled, and asked, "Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?"
Upon hearing his name, the gnome let out an enormous roar of rage, pulling his hair out in clumps, running out of the castle never to be seen again. The queen held her baby close and cried happy tears, living happily ever after.

"So? Do you like the story?" Sara asked, looking between the boys anxiously. She had never been the best storyteller, not like some of the other girls and women she knew.

"Is it supposed to be a twist on witchers?" Iwan asked seriously.

Gawel smiled; he had to admit it had some similarities, the promise of a child that the family was later unwilling to give up. To be fair, for witchers it was always up to the child in the end, but still. "I think it's more of a story for human children than witchers," Gawel told him. "It's good. Not all troublesome creatures need to be dealt with with violence."

The three of them crouched under the blanket as the sand storm howled around them for the rest of the night, exchanging stories from their various upbringing. Unsurprisingly most of the witcher stories were centred around how to deal with various monsters and warnings against getting too involved with people (warnings Gawel all too easily forgot) while the human and elven stories focused around morals and doing right by your fellow man to try to teach children to be upstanding citizens. When Sara started to yawn Gawel declared that they should all get some sleep, though really he said as much solely for Sara's benefit since he and Iwan didn't need as much. Besides which, they had to make sure they held on to the blanket lest their skin be rubbed raw. Though that was made easier as more sand was dumped on them.

Come morning the sandstorm had left and as Gawel lifted the blanket off them a small cascade of sand poured off. What he expected was for them to pack up camp and continue on their way. What he didn't expect was a shout and the dull thudding of horses hooves coming towards them, the riders circling them and pointing spears at them. Instantly Gawel reached over his shoulder to take hold of his sword, though he didn't make any move to draw it, not yet. He glanced at Iwan and saw the boy's eyes flashing wildly, a corner of his lip lifting in an animalistic snarl.

"Iwan," he said lowly, his voice in a warning growl. The boy glanced at him, to the people surrounding them, and back again before he seemed to calm himself with effort.

They stayed up late into the night, the howling sandstorm tearing at their blanket made it all the more fun. Poor Sara, however, began fading quickly after her latest story about a little girl and a hungry wolf; her eyes were beginning to slide closed, only staying open with the greatest effort.

When Gawel called it a night, Sara was grateful, even though she did protest a little, much like a child fighting bedtime, but she fell asleep quickly leaning against Gawel's strong chest.

As morning broke, Sara woke to a ribbon of sand pouring onto her face, and before she could fully wake up and rub the sleep from her eyes, they were surrounded by humans she didn't recognize. A small yelp of surprise escaped her lips before she pulled at her magic and readied spells set to unleash at Gawel's command.

Gawel put a hand out to signal for Sara to take it easy. So far those surrounding them hadn't made a move to attack, only to keep them from leaving. Gawel didn't want to be the one to start any violence between them.

"What is it you want from us?" Gawel asked carefully, hoping that the people before him spoke his language.

"What are you doing on the lands of Emir Khalil? Answer us!" one of the mounted warriors demanded, a woman Gawel noted.

"We are just travelers," Gawel said, "exploring the lands."

"You would let a man speak for you?" the same woman demanded in a condescending tone, looking to Sara.

Sara blinked in confusion, letting her magic slip away. She looked from the mounted woman towards Gawel. "He... he is my body guard. My... my son," Sara grasped Iwan towards her hip protectively, "my son and I are fleeing a crazed wizard. We did not know these lands belonged to you."

Sara kept her arms around Iwan tightly, mostly in fear that he would snap and attack or cause some such disturbance. She looked back to Gawel to make sure he was alright with the invented story.

Gawel gave no outward indication that Sara's story surprised him at all. Inwardly though, he was mildly worried that Iwan's more... unique physical aspects might make these strangers question the validity of him being Sara's son. Though he supposed they could simply say he was adopted by the woman.

He tried to consider how best to approach the situation, tried to recall any lessons he had had on the area. Then he remembered. This land was ruled by women. Gawel and Sara had fallen into their more traditional, excepted roles in letting Gawel be the leader, but it seemed here it was best to do the opposite. He glanced to Sara, wondering if she knew of this, and if she didn't, how he could inform her.

"If that is the case then you may have led that danger straight to our lands. You will all come with us and make your report to the Emir," the horsewoman said. She gave a shrill whistle and another rider approached, leading two horses by their lead ropes. "We only have two spare horses so you will have to share," she said.

Gawel, sensing that they were not in any immediate danger, released the grip he had on his sword and turned to Sara. "I'll ride double with Iwan," he said to her quietly. If nothing else, he knew he would be strong enough to contain the boy should he lose control. "We should probably go along with them for now, at least to learn the state of this land," he added, his voice pitched low enough that only she would be able to hear. The last thing he wanted was for it to seem as though he were giving her commands in front of a matriarchal society.

Taking one of the horses he held it while Iwan climbed into the saddle and wriggled forward, allowing Gawel room to swing up behind him. It had been some time since they had ridden anywhere - in the colder climates Gawel avoided it as it strained the scarring on his leg, though here in the heat he didn't think it would be too much of an issue. Nonetheless it was clear that he was comfortable in the saddle, resting easily with one hand gripping the reins and the other resting around Iwan's waist to hold him steady since he didn't have the stirrups to steady himself.

When the apparent leader of the women whistled, Sara flinched at the piercing sound, but tried to recover before anyone noticed. The horses that were brought before them were beautiful specimens of equestrian grace. Barrel chested and shorter than the horses back home, but their features were so delicate and sharp, if they kept still they may be mistaken for sculptures. Their hides were as golden as the sands around them, manes long and pale; so blonde, they were nearly white.

Gawel and Iwan spared no time swinging up onto the back of their horse, but Sara was captivated by the magnificent steed before her. Slowly, hand flat, she reached out to stroke the horses cheek, their eyes locked. Sara stared into the mares chocolate brown eyes, and smiled as her hand met hide.

"What's her name?" Sara asked, utterly captivated with her new friend, "I've never seen such a beautiful horse."

"Euwylorn. She is gentle. Now, we must go."

Sara tried to restrain her giggling and excitement as she swung her leg over Euwylorn's back, settling herself into the unfamiliar saddle. She wasn't an advanced rider by any means, but she certainly hoped she could make it seem so, as to not embarrass herself around these warrior women.

She shot a glance at Gawel, and felt her heart skip a beat. If she thought it possible, Gawel sitting astride a horse was even more attractive and dashing than usual. Once she had grabbed a hold of the reigns, the lead horsewoman made another whistle, this one different than before, and the group came around to lock Gawel, Iwan and Sara in the middle, encircling them. They then began riding off to...wherever it was these women came from.

"Do you know who these women are?" Sara whispered over to Gawel, bringing Euwylorn closer to their horse.

Gawel glanced at Sara when she spoke but quickly looked away again. "Emirites," he replied, his voice equally quiet. Normally he would use this opportunity to test Iwan's knowledge but with them surrounded he didn't want to risk offending the women with anything they may say that would be overheard.

"A matriarchal society jointly led by the Emir, a leader voted into her position through charisma and martial prowess, and the Seeress, one who's magical abilities assist her in steering the future of the tribes, " Gawel said. His voice, while quiet, was in a tone that would be appropriate for a classroom recitation. Which wouldn't be too far from the truth since it was only from his geography lessons he knew of the land.

"There's a witcher school here one with all girls, " Iwan added.

Gawel smiled down at the boy though there was a hint of sadness to his eyes. Nearly all witchers were striped of their emotion but Iwan seemed more affected than normal; most boys his age would be drawn to an all female witcher school for the sexual appeal but Iwan seemed as though he were just sharing a simple trivia fact.

"Only a rumour," Gawel added. "I don't know how they view witchers here, only that they don't trust men to reason with anything but their 'little head'," he said, shooting a wink to Sara playfully.

Sara stifled a giggle, though she couldn't hold back the blush that spread across her cheeks. In truth, she was quite worried about not having Gawel to fall back on, his leadership skills are not something that Sara possessed. Having been raised mostly outside of human contact, she had only had to fend for herself, never getting into a situation with the villagers who visited her that her magic couldn't handle. Being thrust suddenly into a position of power, however imagined that position was, was intimidating.

"They respect magic?" She asked, feeling slightly more confident with that tidbit of information. "What do you suggest we do?" Sara whispered to Gawel, hoping to be able to lean on his expertise a little while longer.

"Very highly, I believe," Gawel replied to Sara's question about respecting magic. He, like her, hoped that that would put them in high stead, especially since he truly had no idea how witchers were seen and, with his and especially Iwan's eyes, they were bound to notice eventually if they hadn't already. Hopefully the fact that he hadn't heard any warnings from this area meant that, even if they weren't liked, they were at least tolerated.

"Wing it," Gawel said to her asking what to do. "I'm your bodyguard remember? You make the decisions," he added with a cheeky grin and a wink. Oh he would enjoy this, seeing his shy demure Sara take charge. He knew she could do it - she had effectively taken control when Gawel had been incapacitated after their last contract - she just needed a little push.

Before too long the party rose over the crest of a sand dune and were looking down at a sea of tents. Not the small triangular ones used in the north. No, these were large circular ones, large enough for a man to stand under. There were pens set up holding livestock, horses mostly. There was also a clear separation between two sides of the tent city and Gawel's sharp eyes could see that the men lived on one side and the women on the other. He shot a glance to Sara, slightly worried; if they were separated, she truly would be on her own but he knew it was likely dangerous to resist should that be what they wanted.

To try to avert this for as long as possible, he spoke up. "To give our full report to your Emir, we will all need to be there together. There are some parts Sara saw and others that I saw."

The leader seemed to consider this then gave a single nod of acknowledgement before turning to Sara. "Your son, how old is he? We do not separate sons from their mothers until they are thirteen."

Gawel was relieved at that at least. Iwan was twelve, but could pass for either age so, should Sara want to make sure he was with her she could tell the truth, or lie and he could be with the men and likely Gawel at a later date.

Sara tried to keep her face neutral, but as Gawel's suggestion to 'wing it' horrified her. No plan? No strategy?? No hiding place in case things didn't go according to said plan??? Her stomach felt like it was trying to escape through her mouth; she focused intently on not losing its meager contents.

As they crested the dune, Sara forgot her anxiety as the beauty of the landscape before her hit her senses. At least a hundred tents, if not more, rose from the sand like multicolored dollops, the slight desert breeze brought the tangy aroma of horse manure and hay, making Sara's nose crinkle a bit. The longer she looked, the more details she began to notice; the men all seemed to be gathered on one side, with the women and young children to the other. Teens were scattered throughout both sides, some running back and forth; probably acting as messengers or the like. As the savory aromas of the cook pots reached them, her stomach settled back down, and gave an appreciative growl.

Sara was further horrified at the thought of being separated from both Gawel and Iwan, and had to restrain the urge to clutch Iwan to her again as she answered, "My son is twelve. I wish he remain with me." Once again, she feared losing her last meal. She began to think about how she would drop her sorceress status, assuming just blurting a thing like that out would be unwise. Her mind flitted about, trying to act the way she thought Gawel would; taking in every detail of their surroundings, trying to anticipate what would happen next.

((you wanted random ninja attack? Here's random ninja attack :D ))

Gawel gave Sara the tiniest of nods to her stating that she wanted Iwan with her. That reassured Gawel as well since, although still a child in many respects and his temperament unknown, Iwan was a skilled fighter and he would protect Sara from any harm. The Emirites didn't seem to mind either, their leader saying, "Very well," and leaving it at that.

It was as they were descending the hill to the tent city that a shrill whistle went up. Focusing his eyes, Gawel was able to see movement by the horizon and a cloud of sand or dust rising. "You're under attack," he said to the leader.

"The whistle just means unexpected visitors are arriving, not that they are hostile," the leader said, clearly not worried. After all, it was a large encampment, who would dare attack them? Gawel was not convinced though.

"No," he said. "Unexpected visitors, yes, but they are coming with weapons bared. I can see the sun glinting off them."

"How? I can't even see them yet," the woman said.

Gawel hesitated for a second, then decided to say nothing about his training just yet. "I have good eyes," was all he said.

"Mmm." The leader said nothing more than that and otherwise did nothing.

Gawel gritted his teeth. He was never one to just be able to stand by and watch when he was able to help and this was no exception. He wanted, no, needed to be able to rush to their aid but if he did he also ran the risk of damaging any chance they had at being friendly. He shot a desperate glance to Sara, hoping that she might be able to talk some sense into them, to get them to hurry to help.

Iwan, however, perhaps sensing Gawel's anxiety, was troubled by no such niceties. He simply took the reigns from Gawel and kicked the heels of his boots into the sides of the horse. "Yah!" he said sharply, urging the horse to leap forward and, the surprise of it was enough for them to break through past their guards.

"Iwan!" Gawel said sharply but the boy simply looked over his shoulder and shot a grin to Gawel. And Gawel, for his part, couldn't help the twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Sara is going to kill me," he muttered, but he took the reins and control of the horse, urging the mount around the tents and to meet the attackers head on.

((Yay! :3 ))


Sara watched anxiously as the scene unfolded before her, the leaders doing nothing but, well, leading them down to the camp and Gawel's eyes staring at her, pleading with her to do something.

What? What could she say to make them move to action? Thankfully the decision was taken from her, though she was not pleased by whom. Iwan lunged his horse forward, tossing nothing but a sly smile back as he pulled out the few weapons he was allowed to carry.

Then as Gawel followed the courageous Iwan, Sara felt a conflicting mix of relief and fury. How dare they both run off and leave her behind, but at the same time, fearing for their safety and wishing to transport them away from danger.

The women warriors around Sara looked to her in stunned silence, forcing her brain to click back to the situation at hand.

"We must defend your camp! These are not friends!" Sara shoved her heels into her horse's belly, holding tight to the reigns as she surged forward, murmuring the beginnings of a spell under her breath. When she came to the center of the encampment, she leapt off the horse, sliding a bit as she landed, but staying on her feet. Lifting her hands towards the sky, Sara closed her eyes, willing a shimmering shield to surround the camp, allowing their new allies to exit and return, but keeping the attacking force out. There was no way Sara was going to allow the children to get hurt.

As the shield solidified, she brought the storm clouds that passed earlier back overhead, whipping the winds into a frenzy, sending the sand into the eyes of the enemy. She hoped it wasn't hurting their allies too much; though she knew Gawel and Iwan were fine.

Having already abandoned their horse, Iwan and Gawel were already in the thick of the fighting, their steel swords flying with inhuman speed. Gawel's medallion started to tremble and vibrate and he risked a quick glance back at the city-encampment. Sera's magic had created a bubble like shield around it and his eyes widened in surprise; he knew Sera's magic was powerful, of course, but to not only maintain such a large shield, dictating who could enter and who could not, and now to pull back the storm clouds that had assaulted them earlier required a scary amount of magic. Gawel muttered to himself even as he turned his attention back to the fighting, keeping an eye on Iwan and how he was doing.

Gawel was concerned. Iwan's fighting skills were superb for his age and experience, but it was the grinning and laughing that worried him. If he didn't calm down once the battle was ended, that would be a sure sign that the Trial of the Grasses had not been entirely successful.

The fighters from the encampment, all women Gawel noticed, had joined them then and it wasn't too long before the bandits had turned and ran. Gawel stood still and let them, sword lowered, but Iwan made to chase after him.

"Iwan!" Gawel called after him sharply. The boy stopped reluctantly and half turned back to Gawel. "Come here," Gawel said firmly. His voice was quiet and, were the boy truly human he wouldn't have heard. With the Witcher's enhanced hearing, however, Gawel knew he would have no trouble hearing him. Iwan seemed to hesitate, glancing off to where the bandits were still running. Even taking a step towards them. Then he seemed to think better of it and turned back to Gawel, walking towards him.

Gawel privately heaved a sigh of relief. Iwan didn't know that his very life depended on him being more human than monster, Gawel had judged it best not to tell him so as to get an accurate judgement on how he had changed. Gawel did not bear that burden well as it was, but he was relieved he would not have to do anything just yet.

Sara maintained the shield long enough for the fighting to end, and as the last of the bandits turned tail to flee the slaughter that had befallen their comrades, she released the magic. The shimmery aqua tint around the camp melted away, and the clouds began to dissipate, the sun sending rays streaming through the breaks to light the ground again. The wind died down as well, and the heat of the desert started creeping back around them.

She could vaguely see the shapes that belonged to Gawel and Iwan, but her energy was thoroughly depleted. She had been so concerned about protecting the innocent children within the camp, she'd nearly overclocked her magic output. Her vision began to blur as she stumbled forward a step towards Gawel, trying to make sure they were both alright. Attempting another step forward, her vision darkened and Sara lost conciousness, falling to the hot sand with a thump.

Gawel turned back to the city where they had left Sara and smiled as he saw the dome shield shimmer away. That had to have been Sara's magic, it had her feel to it. The woman was a lot more powerful than her slight frame indicated and, even though Gawel hated magic being used on himself, he had come to appreciate her skills when in a tight situation. That smile quickly turned to a frown though when she toppled forward though and did not get up.

Swiping his sword across his pant leg, he sheathed it and ran over to her, Iwan following suit. There was a crowd gathering around her and Gawel pushed his way through to kneel at her side. People were whispering, murmering, sorceress, witcher, the words were swirling around them. But Gawel didn't give it a thought, at least not until he saw that Sara was still breathing. "Thank goodness," he murmured to himself. It was only then that he took note of the notice they were gaining and grimaced to himself. So much for keeping a low profile.

Slipping his arms under Sara's shoulders and knees, he lifted her and held her against his chest. "Is she all right?" Iwan asked

Gawel nodded. "She's just exhausted, used too much magic too quickly without preparing herself."

Seeing the crowds around them part for someone, Gawel turned towards it to see a middle-aged woman dressed elegantly, jewels in her hair and richly dyed red cloth with gold embroidery. Khol lined her eyes, protection from the sun Gawel guessed. Maybe something that might help Sara; Gawel and Iwan's pupils simply shrank to pinpricks to protect them from the bright sunlight. Seeing how everyone was bowing to this woman, Gawel bent at the hip slightly and inclined his head. He hoped that was considered enough; everyone here was bowing to different depths probably depending on their station.

"Why did no one tell me we had honoured guests visiting?" the woman asked, her voice light and musical, sounding like a much younger woman than she appeared.

"We did not know, your eminence," one of the women by her side said, the one who had 'captured' them. She was standing slightly behind the fancy woman, armour shining in the sun, and glaring at Gawel as though it were his fault. "We were not informed of the status of these people when we apprehended them in the dunes."

"You apprehended them?" the woman demanded, turning to the warrior now. Before the warrior woman got a chance to reply, the other turned back to Gawel. "I am Emir Khalil and I welcome you to these land, witchers. Please come with me, I will provide lodgings for you to recover from this insult."

"I am Gawel, this is Iwan and Sara. There's no need really. No insult has been given," Gawel hurried to add even as he was forced to follow this woman as she strode ahead in front of him.

"It is not a grave insult to apprehend a sorceress and two witchers, no matter how unusual you may be, where you are from then?"

Gawel gave a short laugh. If only. "No," he said. Not wanting to encourage questions of that just yet, he asked, "I know that sorceresses are highly regarded here, but witchers?"

"You came to our land without knowledge of where you were heading?" the Emir asked, answering a question with a question.

"It wasn't exactly planned." Remembering the story Sara had told when they first ran into the riders, he tweaked it a little to say, "We were involved in a plot that wound up with a powerful mage dead. He was a cruel and evil man, but he had many friends in high places. We were driven out and decided to use the opportunity to explore other lands," he said. That way it wasn't admitting any weakness - a mage that would drive away two witchers and a sorceress would have been powerful indeed - and also removing any chance that they could be used politically.

"I see," was all the woman said. Gawel looked around. The city they were walking through seemed to be made entirely from cloth with tent poles and ropes holding it all together. It did not look very solid, but he supposed it could be taken down and moved in a hurry. Everywhere though, were women. He did not see any men.

They were led into a large sumptuous tent, the inside was surprisingly cool. "This is where our honoured guests stay," Emir Khalil said. "Sara can recover here and I will send someone by shortly with refreshments and more appropriate clothing for the climate."

"Thank you, Emir," Gawel said, bowing slightling once more, hoping he wasn't mangling the etiquette too much.

"Of course. And perhaps later, after you are rested, we can talk and you can tell me what kind of land it is that allows their menfolk to become witchers," the Emir said.

Gawel grinned and said, "My pleasure," as she took her leave.

Looking around Gawel saw a large cushioned mattress that was slightly hidden from view by semi-transparent veils hanging from the ceiling and went there to place Sara down.