An angry roar swept across the peak of the mountain. A storm of mana spread across the mountains. The ground itself rumbled, and beasts that were hiding in the woods scurried off into the distance. The witchers were long gone by then. They boarded a raft and went with the river's flow, then they rode their mounts and galloped east. Their horses were covered in the core's blood as well. There were patches of brown and grey on them, as if they were camouflaging. The sun was shining brightly, and the blood was almost dried up.
The witchers wondered if the blood had lost its effect, but their concerns were ultimately useless. They came to the plains on Velen's borders in the afternoon, meeting up with the other witchers there. Felix was present as well. He was on his horse, and Carl was in his arms. The poor boy must have gone through a nightmare after he was abducted. He was curled up and sickly. His face was pale, as if he were down with an illness.
"Did you complete your mission on Bald Mountain, Letho?" Felix patted Carl's head. He sounded unenthusiastic, and a frown was furrowing his forehead. He managed to save the boy, but the sight of those crones left a deep impression on him. It was borderline traumatic. He had a bad feeling about this whole affair. His instincts were screaming out to him.
Letho took a golden acorn out of his ring and tossed it into the air. "Yeah, but things are different from what we thought." He sighed. "We crossed the crones. We didn't mean to, but it's going to be hard to get into Velen next time."
"What do you mean?" Everyone's hearts sank.
"You'll have to ask the kid," Letho grumbled. "We only wanted to steal a few acorns, but we got a lot more than what we bargained for. We just ruined decades' worth of hard work. The crones won't let this slide, but this is not the time to talk about this. We need to head due north and leave this accursed place right away. It'd be best if we could reach La Valette's territory in three days."
Roy pulled the reins, and his armor rubbed against Wilt's belly. He looked at his companions. "I'll explain after we settle down."
The witchers rode ahead and left Velen, but they did not get too far. They heard caws coming from behind them, and hundreds of crows circled the air above them. They were like a black cloud chasing the witchers. The horses were fast, but they could not outrun the crows. The crows eventually caught up to them, and they screeched uglily. They attacked the horses with their talons and beaks. The witchers could barely protect themselves with Quen and Agni. The horses had no armor or spells. Their eyes and ears were gouged out, and they shrieked.
The horses bucked and tossed the witchers off, then they ran off into the distance. The witchers rolled around. When they got back up, they knelt on one knee and held the hilt of their silver blades.
Wilt was a smart horse, but he was helpless against the crows.
Roy dismounted. "You have to hide, boy! Go find your friends!"
Wilt was reluctant to leave, but in the end, it neighed and chased after the other horses.
The crows let the horses escape. They surrounded the witchers and turned into wisps of black smoke. The ground started to rumble, and the ladies came out of the black cloud.
"You're fast, little ones." The Brewess put her hands on her hips. She stood before the witchers, her mountainous figure looming over them. "You almost exhausted us." Her sisters agreed.
The Brewess and Whispess' faces were covered in a cage and net. The witchers were not sure what kind of look they were making, but they could see the Weavess giving them a look of mockery.
Auckes stayed calm and pretended they did nothing wrong. "Ladies, we've refused the request. Are you going to abduct us like you did Carl just because of that?"
"This is not about the request!" the Brewess shrieked.
"And to think I liked you the most! You're a liar!" The Weavess pointed her spindly finger at Auckes. "You told us your companions had left Velen, but they were on Bald Mountain all this time!"
The Whispess held the child's hand and swung it around. "You slipped past poor Fagus and reached the top." She scanned Roy and Letho. They were still caked in dried blood. "To think you used that bitch's blood!"
"You broke our hearts! You stole the golden acorn!" The Brewess pointed her butt at the witchers and smacked it. "You will pay for your foolishness!"
A gale blew on the plains, and the ladies' voice filled the air.
"Ladies, I'm sorry, but this must be a misunderstanding," Auckes explained and regrouped with his companions. "We've never heard of Bald Mountain, and we would never steal from you."
Everyone huddled closer.
"Stop lying, witchers. I can recognize that scent anywhere." The Weavess sniffed and turned her gaze to Letho. "I'm sure you have the acorn, lad. We can smell it from a mile away. You can't hide it. Not even if you tucked it away in your ring."
Letho stiffened up, and his knuckles started turning white.
"Calm down, lad. We won't search you, though your muscles are to die for."
The Brewess said, "What you stole isn't worth our time, but him, on the other hand…" She turned to Roy. "You have an important item with you, little one. It's covered in her stench. It sullied my home. It's bad luck taking something that's not yours. Hand Kunguran over."
Roy took a deep breath. This was the first time he saw the sisters. They were uglier and eviler than the legends said they were. They were like beasts from the abyss, waiting for their perfect chance to pounce and devour him. Most of their stats and skills were shrouded in mystery too. They were deadly monsters.
"You mean this?" Roy took out the bloodstone and approached the ladies. A crimson silhouette swam around the stone, as if it were a ripple that was spreading across a pond. It was gentle and soothing.
The crones almost drooled at the sight of the stone. This was not the golden acorn, but it was an important item for them. They could sense a familiar soul residing in the stone. It was an unsettling, uneasy, and disgusting feeling. They knew that soul anywhere.
"That's her! It's that bitch's scent!"
"It's the core! The ancient druid!"
"Kunguran!"
The ladies sprung into action. They stuck their bellies out and spread their fingers. They made a few bizarre poses and brainstormed for a moment, then they said gently, "What did the evil spirit promise you, child? Why did you release her? Why did you steal?"
Roy smirked. "I don't think we're the thieves here, ladies. You are. You stole the tree, and you stole Velen. We're just giving them back to their rightful owner."
"Don't fall for her lies!" the Whispess persuaded. "She's a conspirator! A capricious demon! Once she's used you, she'll turn her back on you faster than you can say 'witcher.'"
The Weavess said gently, "You can read She Who Knows. You'll see who she really is, and who you can really trust."
"You ladies wrote that book." Roy shook his head.
"You should trust us! Give us that stone, and all will be forgiven. We'll give you the acorns Arendelle worked so hard to raise as well!"
Roy's eyes glinted, and he pretended to be interested.
"We'll still welcome you, and you will be invited to next year's banquet."
"Eat, drink, and be merry! It's a feast fit for a king!"
"We never go back on our word," the Whispess emphasized. "We never break our promises."
You want us to feast with the Wild Hunt? That's a feast fit for a dead man. We're not that stupid as to surrender ourselves to those knights. And they're our sworn enemy. Roy's lips trembled, as if he was excited, but he held his stone tightly. "Give us a minute."
"What more do you need to consider?"
The crone's eyes glinted. She grasped the air, and a crow flew out from the smoke. It pounced at the stone, but Roy pushed it back with Aard. It broke apart with a sickening crunch.
"You incorrigible brat! Are you challenging us? We're the will of Velen!" the Whispess screeched. "Do you know what you've done?"
The Brewess swung her ladle around and announced, "The sacred tree has fallen into a slumber after Kunguran's departure. You took her precious acorns away, dooming Lower Velen's villagers."
"Arendelle will not have enough acorns for next year. The crops cannot grow without the oil. The villagers will never receive the fruits of their labor," the Weavess added. "They will starve, and the cold shall kill them."
"This is a sin!" the Whispess screeched as she put her hands on her hips.
"Indeed it is." The Brewess took a step forward and swung her gigantic belly upward.
"Stop this foolishness, witcher!" The Weavess swung her gnarly hand in the air.
The crones might look like nightmares, but they were decent orators. Roy would have believed them if he had no idea that they cooked human flesh and worked with the Wild Hunt.
Things had gotten out of hand. They did not want to antagonize the crones, but they would not go down without a fight. Roy looked from the corner of his eye. His companions had changed their stances slightly so they could hold their blades that much quicker. They then nodded imperceptibly at the young witcher.
They were out of Velen, and the crones could no longer absorb mana from the earth. Their chances of winning just went up a little.
"You have a point, ladies." Roy nodded and took a step forward. He was less than ten yards away from them. The stench of soil, grass, and rotten meat just became heavier.
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