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Wet Cherry of Truth	By : uztre Category: +S through Z > Witcher 3: Wild Hunt Views: 96308 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own or claim ownership of or make any profit of any of the characters or other elements of The Witcher 3 contained within the story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Summary:
After savoring her most depraved night with Zoltan, Triss left the poor dwarf without saying a word to go hooking on the streets and to think the previous events through again. Shortly after, she makes acquaintance with a person she would have rather avoided and forces her to change her plans.
Tags: No sex
Notes:
- Spell-checked on June 14, 2018
Triss was standing on the side of the road, touting for potential customers by showing off her half-naked body and tits. It was afternoon, and she was assigned to the group of street harlots, still coping with what happened the last night in the Golden Sturgeon. After Zoltan found out who she really was, he was visibly overcome by emotions and a real shock. On one side, he seemed to like the idea of having sex with her, the real Triss Merigold of Maribor he was yearning for so long and so desperately. He also seemed to be into the fact that she was nothing but an ordinary whore who turned tricks and went hooking just like any other woman in the continent and not a mighty sorceress of some sort of a royal court, Lodge or White Wolf anymore. Overnight, Triss became an approachable girlfriend, someone Zoltan could bond with and be himself, stop dealing with problems which went beyond the profanity of helping Geralt to solve his problems with the result that he was forced to have a beer at the bar while the lucky Witcher was kindly ploughing her tiny pussy in the room right above.

On the other side, however, Zoltan was clearly struggling to understand why Triss was doing all this today, why she didn't say anything right at the beginning and agreed to have sex with him, even though she must have known what the consequences would ultimately lead up to one day. By one means or another, Triss had to know he wouldn't just consider himself satisfied with fucking a red-haired harlot who surprisingly looked and sounded like the sorceress he was secretly in love with, and leave it at that. She must have been sure that he, Zoltan Chivay, was going to spare no effort to find out her true identity behind the fox mask and catch her. Triss allowed it to happen, without giving a second thought about what all this was going to mean for their mutual future, and Geralt, for their friendship as a whole. Or what's left of it. An irresponsible behavior he couldn't simply turn a blind eye to.

To crown it all, Triss refused to answer the churning dwarf's nagging questions and told him she was too sleepy and wired to discuss all these things right now and so early in the morning. She knew she screwed things up, not because she had sex with Geralt's best friend, but she was caught red-handed at the first night after having the best and most intense fucking in years, and Triss would have decided the same way if she was faced with the same decision once more. Geralt was actually a written off chapter offering no possible future with her and him together. Yennefer of Vengerberg's place in the Witcher's heart was simply too strong to cause it to totter, and Triss finally reached the point of admitting this painful but honest matter of fact and realized that time had maybe come to find her luck with someone else, or rather a strong and well-built dwarf who really seemed to love her.

Admittedly in a very strange way but who was she to judge about what was normal and what wasn't these days.

"Shouldn't have just left the room last night. Zoltan deserved better," Triss thought, remembering the way she left the room by simply shutting the door in the dwarf's confused face after saying that they should better talk later when her shift on the streets was over and everyone had a chance to calm down, being clearheaded enough to explain oneself the way both would catch better, understand each others' actions of what happened here and the last six hours. Kinda.

And fortunately, it worked and Zoltan didn't try to run after her, although a part of her hoped he would have done it like in one of those trashy, romantic love books she used to read during her time in Aretuza. And perhaps in one of those erotic stories in which the man didn't allow his girl to leave before he didn't get his answers and pussy he deserved and owned. Like in one of those kinky imaginations she was used and fucked until she had no other choice to reveal her true self to him and became his submissive sextoy and slave forever. Triss was sure Zoltan could be that relentless man she needed today. After what he had done to her the whole night, he was clearly just hitting the tip of the iceberg and capable of doing so much to her. Much harder. And now after he knew that his whore called Triss Merigold was the real one, she unwittingly hoped that this would unleash the dwarf's dark, dominant urges once and for all, and make him feel compelled to force his suppressed sexual needs upon his girlfriend and harlot.

Upon her.

"How much, whore?" An elven customer suddenly asked and tore out Triss from her naughty thoughts.

"Twenty crowns, Sir. It's my first day and week as a streetwalker in Novigrad," Triss explained in a girlish undertone while placing her hands on the hips and teasing her customer with her big tits. "Don't miss the chance to be the first gentleman coming in my pussy. What do you say?" The elven dock worker couldn't believe his ears as he grabbed the red-haired sorceress' butt and fondled her soft cheeks possessively, smacked them. A usual behavior and treatment street harlots had to take in at the docks if they wanted to survive and even prevail someday.

Triss didn't mind it either, feeling that the line of having false dignity and insight of being nothing more than a sex object for men's pleasure was already passed by far. After seven days, countless johns and Zoltan Chivay, it was healthier to accept the truth before it made her break under its degrading and misogynistic pressure. Those women who weren't able to reconcile and subordinate themselves to its meaning by their own free will got forced to do so sooner or later. It was inevitable.

To not lose her mind and sink into depression in the process, Triss decided to adjust herself to the new conditions and play by the rules men had laid down to subjugate her kind. Some of her former friends of the Lodge, Yennefer, and Philippa in particular, would not hesitate to call her a wussy and lame duck, blaming her for giving up so fast but Triss painfully learned these days that the best way to survive and keep up the fight was to acknowledge to oneself first that a sorceress who was deprived of her magic abilities didn't vary a bit from an ordinary woman at all. You could deny it and keep fighting, but at the end, you were just precipitating your ruin. Sacrifices had to be made. That was inevitable too. And Triss preferred to get called a whore, slut and wussy then to lose her friends and die for nothing.

Just idiots wanted to get burned of false pride at the stake!

"Fresh meat. The way I like it. Alright, cunt. I take the bait. Where is your real home corner?"

"Follow me, Sir."

The red-haired sorceress walked around the next corner, shaking a bubble butt sexily from one side to the other. It was a cold and rainy day, so Triss had changed into something comfortable to wear before painting the town red. She had slipped on a pair of tight white shorts. They were quite short, and might even be considered 'booty shorts'. The top of the shorts started an inch and a half below her belly button and was held shut by a little gold button just above the zipper. The shorts ended at the point where the back of her thighs began to shape into her ass, and if she bent over, people could see a large part of her ass cheeks showing. The sexy shorts ended roughly at the same height in the front, hugging each leg tightly.

The red shirt she was wearing was a long sleeved plaid button-up. It was an older shirt of Brialla and was too small for her, so Triss didn't mind cleaning in it and getting it dirty. Since she burned her own clothes to ashes and nothing had left to wear, she accepted Brialla's offer with pleasure. But instead of buttoning any of the buttons, Triss had rolled the bottom half of the shirt up to her ribs, wrapped it like a bra under each of her breasts, and then tied it in a knot in the middle. The end result was a huge amount of cleavage. About a half of each breast was visible at the base of the knot, but the shirt widened all the way up to her neck. The knot rested between her large tits as a centerpiece.

Her full waist - from the top of the shorts below her belly button, to just below her breasts - was completely naked. The sleeves were loosened and rolled up to her elbows, and she had on a pair of comfortable five-inch leather heeled ankle boots and white thigh-high thin socks including garter straps and the mandatory yellow ribbon around the right thigh. Her carrot red hair was tied in two buns. Even though Triss was wearing something simple and dated, just to turn tricks for free - she wore the outfit in a way that screamed 'fuck me hard and rough please!'. The elven customer following the red-haired chick licked his lips as he gave the bubble butt a rough spank and then reaped a flirty squeak from her lips in return.

It took maybe twenty seconds when they finally arrived at the right impasse brimful with barrels and crates. Brialla had instructed her to choose one free blind alley and stick with it till the end. If she changed her working space every time she got a new john, the possibility of entering another whore's territory would be too high. And the last thing Triss needed was a catfight and dead competitors. Brialla also warned her that she had to prepare herself for defending her place against other streetwalkers too. The back alleys and streets in Novigrad had their own rules and the survival was much harder and more rigid than in the brothel's warm and separated chambers. If Triss wanted to prevail, she didn't have to shy away from getting herself dirty.

"Here were are-" Triss uttered but was interrupted as the poor clad elf with pointed ears whistled through his fingers. "You did a good job, Evroc. You can have Calli for half the price. Now go and let us alone," a long-haired brunette appeared and stepped closer. Her two french braids hairstyle was sexily ending on her stiff nipples. Her dark red lipstick and long, wavy eyelashes were giving her an irresistible appearance of youthful freshness and beauty, making her look like a doll with reddish orange, round eyes. At five foot four, the elven girl appeared outwardly to be sixteen years old, but the look of elves was deceptive and Triss was sure that the teenage girl had to be at least thirty years old according to her sexy, strong voice.

She was wearing a classy combination of black silk knee-high socks, a high-waisted skirt and heeled ankle boots under her belly. Above, a dark red cropped belly sweater with long sleeves made the serious-looking harlot a wet dream come true for every man on the continent. A high-class prostitute of the noble society of Novigrad. And every piece of her outfit was so exclusive and expensive that Triss was inadvertently envious of her. Even Francesca Findabair would be impressed by such sweet and sultry perfection, Triss was sure. And the Duchess of Dol Blathanna was considered to be the most beautiful woman in the world, by a large margin...

"Well, well... You're the newest sister of our little family and a such a beauty. No wonder every man from south to north of the docks wants to plow you these days," the elven girl spoke down to Triss, even though she was one head smaller in physique and frame. "And the resemblance is amazing. You really look like that red-haired freak of the Lodge. And that face. Just remarkable... It would be a shame if it gets smashed up... by accident."

"W-who are you?" Triss asked with fake confidence, not expected to have a problem right at the beginning.

A bittersweet smile appeared on the brunette's face as she stepped even closer and glared up at her, surrounded by an aura of voluptuousness and superiority. "My name is Aurelia and I'm here to welcome you to our family and congratulate you on your very good start in the Massive Oak. It doesn't happen very often that someone beats two records of mine at one go. Quite impressive."

"Thanks... I guess."

"You're welcome," Aurelia replied snobbishly. "And as a leader and first harlot of the Massive Oak, it's also my duty to put you in mind of the deal every new girl has to agree with if she wants to keep attending to her business. No exception possible I'm afraid, regardless of how famous and successful she already seems to be."

Triss' arms crossed as the elven harlot's smile changed into serious and threatening expression, the round eyes piercing into their opponent's soul like dagger cutting through butter. There was something cooking, and the red-haired sorceress' instincts were running hot. "Alright. What's this deal about anyway?"

"The docks of Novigrad can be a dangerous place for women like us, especially for new streetwalkers who are just trying to hold down a job and earn some crowns to make ends meet. It's impossible for the temple guards to patrol every corner and alley around the clock to keep possible threats and dangerous individuals away from us. We learned long ago that it's a better strategy to look out for ourselves and not to leave something to chance. All you got to do is to contribute your personal share of the weekly paid-off receipts."

"And how much would that be?" Triss asked and expected something like this.

"Not much considering that it will safeguard your job and future, and keep unwanted individuals at distance. With only three-quarters of your last and upcoming earnings, you have nothing to fear from them or someone else, always get paid and treated respectfully by every john in the docks... as long as you reject patrons and customers who are already being claimed by girls for themselves. What do you say, Triss? That's your name, right?"

Triss' green eyes shot open in shock. "THREE QUARTERS OF- No, I can't do that! This is ridiculous. I need every copper and coin to pay off my debts. My friends' lives and future are depending on me, my work as a harlot. If I have to give up so much money and also reject so many potential clients, they'll never get saved and free again. Not to mention how fast Cinia... the Madame would fire me. That's just plain insane! Unacceptable!"

"I'm sorry to hear that, but every girl has people and loved ones she has to take care of somehow, and debts to pay. And unfortunately, I don't know you or your family, and you're not even an elf... So, no. You have to agree and pay, otherwise look out for a new place to sell your yourself, Triss. So what will it be?"

A whiff of panic overcame the red-haired sorceress' curvy figure while she was going through her options, people tense gazes resting on her like a fly on a turd. Her entire plans she had made not so long ago seemed to be at risk.

"Does the Madame know about this? How you try to put new streetwalkers like me away?"

An unavoidable chuckle slopped out of Aurelia's red lips as she braced her butt against one wooden crate and placed her hands on its edge, knees crossing. The elven harlot was resembling an angel, a deadly sweet peach man would love to bite into, and then realize too late that they were actually doomed to die, trapped in her web. With her dark red lipstick and two braids, Aurelia's entire outfit and the teenage body was emitting innocence and virginity, distracting clueless victims from her eyes which were able to send chills up and down their spines. Triss didn't like to admit it, but the elven harlot had something of Philippa's irritating character.

And that was not good. Not at all.

"Cinia? Most certainly. But it does not matter. Not out here. She may be in charge when it comes to the question of who gets a job, who goes on the game and which fourteen girls work at the brothel. But out here, I am the one in charge and responsible for the remaining fifty kittens, for their safety and productivity. I am the big sister who makes sure that everyone stays in line and only those who are worthy and docile get their promotion." Aurelia pushed herself away from the crate, coming very close to Triss' face and looking up. "And I give a shit about the deal you have with that little, undersized halfling scat. I didn't like you right from the beginning. The way you look and high-hat me. The way you make me feel less cunning and valuable. And I don't give a fuck whether your friends suffer or die for whatever reasons. Out here, slut, in the real world I only care whether you pay, kneel and submit yourself to my will and rules. So, I am asking for the last time, Triss. Money or new life purpose?"

The blood in Triss' veins froze as Aurelia literally blackmailed her to commit a financial death sentence. If she agreed, it would literally push her to the brink of ruin and poverty. She would be back at the beginning where she started, never be able to buy her way out of prostitution and become more than a red-haired whore to get used and exploited. A great deal of her own life and those of her friends would run on the streets and Triss could forget the idea of sailing to Lan Exeter for quite a while. She would become a slave to Aurelia's crazy games and be completely and utterly at her mercy. The cold-hearted beast would allow her to serve as many customers Cinia would barely accept to keep the deal going, and with it the suffering as well.

If she decided to revolt though, she would instantly be eyeball to eyeball with all other streetwalkers. Potential roadsides to turn tricks would become extremely limited and Triss would be on her own and segregated, always living in constant fear of getting expelled from the corner she was trying to acquire customers. An option to change the district and go hooking elsewhere would be out of the question, even more suicidal than to take it up with Aurelia and the girls at once. The future of her own and her friends' lives would depend on each client's goodwill, the ability to expand her very own customer base and to prevail against all adversities. An ambitious undertaking. At least one that wouldn't sentence her to slavery, but the risk to jeopardize the agreement with Cinia would be too high.

Unacceptable.

However, in consideration of the past and what happened to Triss when she had entrusted her friends' safety and life to a single person, she was determined to avoid being trapped in that very situation again and at all costs. Once, she made the mistake of choosing the obviously simpler way by busting her back so she could waste thousands of crowns to keep her nerves calm and to feel safe, every single one of her friends suffered for her naivety and silliness with sorrow, blood, and death in hindsight.

But not again. This time, Triss was determined to do her utmost to preserve her independence and to deal with the consequences by her own. This time, she wasn't going to cave in but find a way to bear the risks and do the things her way. The right way. And if necessary by making full use of spells and magic.

"Thanks but I choose to keep my money AND my new life purpose. So no! I refuse to be blackmailed and intimidated this way. And if you think you could bully me to accept this tacky offer, you clearly have no idea who I am. Now you should better go and leave me alone. I'm a big girl and can take care of myself. You can be certain of that!" Triss clenched her fist, gaze proving she was serious. Surprisingly, the leader of the street harlots took the red-haired sorceress' reaction with equanimity and seemed not to be impressed at all, as she countered without averting Triss' gaze only once, "Pride comes before a fall. Today you're maybe the johns' favorite celeb whore, but time will come nobody gets an instant hard-on when the name Triss Merigold of Maribor comes up from a shithole, and you'll be forced to sell your useless ass for a little bag of fisstech and coppers to get by. THEN, bitch, I'll piss on your beautifully freckled face, you can count on that..."

"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched. Perhaps I'll be the one WHO CONDEMNS YOU to be a public urinal bowl for men to use. Who knows... BITCH?!?" Triss countered, feeling splendid to give it to somebody straight. The whole situation reminded her very much of the time when she was Foltest's royal adviser and dealing with cocky, wannabe powerful bitches called high ladies and lords of Temeria, rich aristocrats, and princesses who thought they could plot behind her back, try to breed discord and persuade the royal court to bump her.

And how she ate such idiots for breakfast.

All of them.

A long silence fell over the place before Aurelia finally walked away with a surprisingly self-composed expression and disappeared around the next corner. Taking a deep breath, Triss needed a moment to reflect about what just happened there, finally seeing no other way to head back to the Massive Oak and to speak with Cinia about all this. Maybe she would find a way to make it possible that she was able to work in the brothel, at least as long as it needed time to cool off the tension between her and this elven bitch. All in all, it was in her interest too that Triss was going to be alive and keep making money.

Without wasting more time, the red-haired sorceress tottered in her five inch, ankle-high boots through the narrow back alleys to the Massive Oak. The air was fresh. The wind was howling in the distance as a thunderstorm was clearly approaching. Walking along a long, wooden landing stage, Triss watched how waves in the sea piled on top of each other and the ships swayed to and fro. The entire sky darkened frowningly. As she wanted to take the next fork to the brothel, a group of men caught her eye and made her stop immediately.

Maybe it was just an instinct, but Triss couldn't help feeling somehow that they affected indifference, watched her closely while talking low. A strange feeling forced her to take another way. While walking along the next narrow alley, she constantly looked back to make sure no one was following her. A moment, it seemed the way that her imagination was running crazy, that she was churned up inside after the bitch-talk with Aurelia, but then those men from the last street occasionally appeared behind her and Triss found herself sprinting.

As she reached an impasse and walked around the next corner, another group of men seemed to come up her way and forced her to turn around and rush from one back alley to another, heart beating in the chest like it was ready to explode. All those men were clearly chasing her and even coming closer and closer. It almost seemed the way that they would finally cut her off, as she barged into an unknown person and fell headlong onto the muddy ground.

"Ouch!"

"I'm so sorry. It's my fault. Are you okay?" Triss asked and got up, trying to give the girl a leg-up as well. She was wearing a black cloak, the back of her head hidden behind a hood. The rest of her clothes were plain and simple, but she was clearly not from the docks, a townswoman of the upper district.

"Yes, I think I'll be okay. Thanks," the friendly girl said and whisked off sludge from her navy blue trousers.

"Priscilla, is that you?"

The blue-eyed beauty's expression lightened up as she looked at the red-haired sorceress with a smile and hugged her instantly. "Triss? By the Goddess, you're alive. I thought they got you there. What happened? What are you doing now? What about the others? Are they okay too? What-?"

With a loud clap of thunder, a pouring rain started to flood the streets of Novigrad. The red-haired sorceress and the troubadour hunkered down under the next roof and watched how people tried to do the same. Triss' predators seemed to have gone and for a moment, it was absolutely silent and Triss felt the romantic poet's hasty glance on her body and skimpy clothes.

"Yes, it's true, Priscilla. I'm a harlot now. A long way to fall from being the advisor to Temeria's king, isn't it?"

"I guess it could have been worse. And prostitution it's just a business like any other, that's all. Even many of my closest friends are harlots and compared to others they always used to be very loyal and sincere," Priscilla explained and smiled friendly. "There's nothing you should be ashamed of Triss. Absolutely nothing. But what about the others? Did they make it too? Are they harlots now as well?"

"Well, that's a long story actually." The redhead furrowed her brow and took a deep breath. Then, she told the beautiful and talented troubadour everything, starting with the Witch Hunters' attack and their separation in sewers. How she ended up at the Massive Oak and went hooking to make ends meet, first in the brothel and then on the streets as a streetwalker. How she had a deal with Cinia to find and rescue her missing friends. What happened to Anisse, Annabelle, and Berthold in the area. And finally how she ended up running into her.

It felt embarrassing and painful for Triss to talk about these things she used to keep inside of her the whole time, but also very liberating. Although Priscilla never was a part of her organization or involved in any active way, she didn't hesitate to cover her back and kept performing in the Kingfisher Inn nonetheless. Quickly, she and Olivier became partners, and Triss was sure that without the romantic poet's excellent shows, neither the inn nor the secret organization would have financially survived the last months.

"I'm so sorry, Triss, and for those who lost their lives at the Kingfisher Inn. You didn't deserve this, but if it makes you feel better, I'm no better off than you. After only three days of investigation, the Witch Hunters finally let me and twelve other workers off... with a fine of one hundred thousand crowns... each."

"ONE MILLION- Motherless bastards..."

"And they linked the Kingfisher Inn's future existence to a false confession... They told me if I refuse to confess falsely and accept the entire fine, they would put up the inn for compulsory sale and send me and all the others to the Deireadh prison."

Triss was speechless, mad at the Witch Hunters and even more at herself. The whole situation was her fault.

"And I accepted it, of course. Would have done it anyway. Otherwise, Olivier's death and everything he had fought for were for nothing, and twelve people would have been snatched from their families too. And dead now too." As Priscilla recognized how the red-haired sorceress was sadly gazing into space, she felt the urge to say something, "It's not your fault, Triss. Don't blame yourself for what the Witch Hunters are responsible for."

"I've been trying to tell myself the same but we both know it's not true," Triss countered calmly, pouting. "It was my job to protect you all and I failed because I wasn't ready to do the necessary thing because I was too naive and anxious. That's the hard truth - whether I like it or not... But not anymore. Today I'm determined to not let such terrible things happen to me, you or someone else again. Next time, I'll be ready for those bastards and not back off a damn inch. Next time, they will burn to ashes. Every single one of them..."

It was silent when the blue-eyed troubadour placed her hand on Triss' shoulder and both watched how the heavy rain was transforming the muddy street into a river. It was getting cold and stinking to high heaven.

"Wait a minute. The fine. How by the Goddess have you accomplished to pay the entire sum anyway?"

A sweet chuckle escaped Priscilla's lips. "Not a single copper, actually. I rather contacted my big brothers in Povis and they consented to help me, vouched for me and even made a down payment. Still, have to pay off the one million two hundred crowns to the Church of course, but at least I can do this with the Kingfisher Inn's ninety-five percent of its earnings... As its new owner today, I can actually do that, you know. And everyone keeps his job and doesn't have to live on the streets. Or die."

"Good. That's good. Well done, Priscilla. And what are you doing here at the docks?"

The blond girl took a deep breath. "Since my takings of the entire week directly get transferred to the Church, there is no money left to maintain my instruments the way they should be. And yesterday, my lute's strings cracked and I can't bring it as usual to my friend at the Hierarch's district. So-"

"So, you found someone in the docks who is able to fix your problem for a fraction of the usual price, illegally. Smart, and dangerous. Priscilla, you should know that-"

PSSSST!!!

Triss wasn't able to finish her sentence as a loud noise like a zing came from a corner not far away.

PSSSSSSSSSST!!!

Rubbernecking, both women tried to find out where the noise was coming from, as Priscilla clapped on the red-haired sorceress' back after a moment and pointed to a half-elven girl with long, shoulder-length hair, beckoning them over. "Do you know her?"

It was Brialla, and she seemed to be walked by fear. "Yes, I do. She is a good friend. I better should go over to her. And you, Priscilla, should-" The blond troubadour jumped out from behind and blocked her way. "I'll come with you. There's so much I'd like to talk about and you could certainly use my help, right?"

PSSSSSSSSSST!!!

"No! You'll go back to the Kingfisher Inn now. My life-"

"I won't. Don't you see it? This is exactly what they want!"

"What?!"

"They want to scare and isolate us from each other?! Triss, only if we have to stay together, we can defeat them!"

PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSST!!!

"Alright, alright. But you will always stay close to me. If I say 'GO!!!', you'll pop off immediately. Do you understand?."

Nodding her head in approval, Priscilla pulled the hood over her head, kneeled down to do up the laces of her three inches, fawn ankle boots. After that, they sprinted through the heavy raindrops to the other side of the road and into the building Brialla supposed to be. Completely soaked and wet to the skin, both women found themselves in the middle of an empty warehouse. First, Triss asked herself where her friend was, but when the door closed Brialla jumped out from the shadows and gave both women almost a heart attack.

"Brialla, what's going on? You almost scared us to death."

"Who is she?" Brialla asked immediately, eyes telling Triss that she was having the jitters.

"This is Priscilla. Priscilla, Brialla. And yes, she is trustworthy... So what the hell is going on?"

The half-elven harlot looked around, checked frantically the windows and every corner. It became clear to the red-haired sorceress that something bad must have happened. "Aurelia. I-I don't know what you both have talked about, but that stupid bitch is officially at daggers drawn with you, went straight to the Witch Hunters' headquarter and told them you'd be the real Triss Merigold, the real sorceress of the Lodge."

Eyes gaping wide open in shock, the red-haired sorceress was petrified, not expecting such an outcome. Yes, their conversation wasn't really friendly, but this was a brutal step to make her go away, and taken so quickly.

"Triss." Brialla stepped close and hold the nervous redhead with her hands, looking up into her eyes. "Witch Hunters and Temple Guards are already on their way and here any moment. You need to leave Novigrad. Now!"

"What... Nooo! I can't do that... Not before my friends are safe and sound!"

"I know that alright. And Cinia knew you would say that too and instructed me to give you this."

"What is it?"

"A list of people and places you can head off if you go down into the sewers and live there for a little while."

Triss was completely taken aback. The sewer system of Novigrad was extremely large, complex and deep, regarded as a dead dangerous and dark place. Only twenty percent of the tunnels had actually been explored, going down several miles into the ground and out of the city, not only hosting homeless and poor people but also outlaws, drug addicts, criminal gangs, serial rapists and killers, nihilists, human traffickers, crack whores, scoia'tael, tricksters, raiders, misogynistic cults, cannibals, and a lot of deadly monsters and who knew what. The dregs of the entire Novigradian society had been using the sewer as retreat area for their predatory and deceptive practices and neither the Temple Guards nor the Witch Hunters ever dared to set a foot into it. As a consequence of the persistent anarchy, a hidden black market was established and quickly became an infamous place to do business, buying and selling stolen goods, slaves and weapons. The last place of the continent a sorceress should actually be.

"The sewer of Novigrad? Are you serious?"

"I know but it's the only way, believe me... Triss, we don't have much time. Will you do it or not?"

Although Triss didn't like the idea at all, she knew she hadn't really a choice and agreed by taking the list.

"Alright. Cinia also instructed me to lead you to one of the entrances, urge you to find a woman who's supposed to be known as the 'Daughter of the Kaedweni Wilderness' and a person who runs a place called 'Pretty Witch'. No idea what her real name is or in which of the tunnels you're able to meet her, but you should try to find her first," Brialla explained quickly, ignoring Triss' puzzled face when the words 'Daughter of the Kaedweni Wilderness' resounded through the dusty room. There was once a powerful sorceress who had been described the same way; Sabrina Glessivig, former advisor to King Henselt, a member of the destroyed Lodge of sorceresses, and brutally murdered by crucifixion and burning at a stake. Geralt once helped to lift her curse in Vergen so she could rest in peace more than a year ago. It was out of the question that Sabrina was alive somehow but Triss was curious about the person who seemed to impersonate her.

"Last thing. Cinia told me that she'll contact a Mister Zoltan Chivay. He's supposed to meet you at the Pretty Witch and help you out as much as possible. And..." Brialla kneeled down and tried to untie the brown ribbon from Triss' left thigh, as Triss shrunk back instinctively. "You have to give me the garter back, Triss. You're no harlot anymore. It has no use to you there. Come on."

The red-haired sorceress should feel happy to hear that but she wasn't. Not at all. What had started as a necessity and great abasement became a sign of freedom and a way of redemption. Without it, Triss felt useless and lost, not having a clear purpose at the moment, in her life. She was just the hated and treacherous sorceress Triss Merigold of Maribor again, responsible for the death of so many men and women who looked up to her. With the token of a common streetwalker, however, she was more, the popular and coveted harlot Triss Merigold every man loved to fuck and pay for. It was a simple, more rewarding life and Triss wasn't quite ready to go back to the old, miserable one again. And if Zoltan was awaiting her at end of some sewer tunnel or whatever the Pretty Witch was, he shouldn't find himself compelled to see something else than a cheap, naughty whore in her.

"No that's fine for me. If it's okay for you, Brialla, I'd like to keep it."

Looking confused, the half-elven harlot stepped back and decided to let it be. "Why? Whatever... We better go now. Is everything clear to you now? You know what do, right?"

Triss had no clue what to expect but nodded, feeling she was jumping right in at the deep end anyway.

"Priscilla?! You go home now. Immedi-"

"TAKE THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET AND SEARCH EVERY HOUSE!!!"
"SHE MUST BE HERE!!!"
"HURRY!!!"

All three women were transfixed to the spot with horror. More and more heavy noises of footsteps came from outside and Triss heard Brialla cursing and heading frantically to the window, checking the situation outside. According to the half-elven girl's bleached expression, it was not good. "Dammit. They were faster than I thought. We're finished if we don't make it to the last house at the jetty. There's the least dangerous entrance to the sewer."

"Backdoor!" Priscilla shouted and ran off before Triss or Brialla could grab her. "Priscilla, wait! No!"

[BOOM]

With an ear-shattering noise and flying splinters of wood, the blond troubadour was hit by the shockwave and flung through the air back to the other girls' feet. Dust blocking their view, Triss instinctively channeled her entire magic power to the broken door and threw a dozen blistering bolts of fire through it, eyes glowing in hatred and death. Three witch hunters were lethally struck and collapsed to the ground, as more assailants jumped in through the main door and Triss was forced to summon a barrier which caused them to get their faces and hands burned, screaming in pain when they were pushed back outside. The magic response was so strong that the window panels immediately broke and the entire room was wrapped in flames.

The Witch Hunters instantly changed their strategy, positioned crossbowmen on the roofs of the buildings around and began to aim and then shoot at her. Luckily, most of the bolts bounced off the thin layer of the barrier, but few got through and landed around them. Triss was sure that they wouldn't survive the next round so easily, as she heard Brialla's sharp, painful shriek and saw her face covered with blood and coal, and then watched how she fell to the ground. Hit in the shoulder, the street harlot cried heartbreakingly and tears ran down her face. Priscilla woke up and turned to the wounded half-elf, hugged her to herself.

"Arrrrggh... T-Triss you have to teleport yourself away. G-go!" Brialla shouted at pains.

"No!!! I won't leave you behind! Never!" Triss yelled back, raising her hands to stabilize the blazing barrier's integrity.

"They've no interests in us. Just take your friend and go!!! I'll be all right. Cinia will protect and care for me. Now go before we all die here and everything was for nothing!... Now for the last time, Triss, LEEEAAAAVVVVEEE!!!" It was heartbreaking for Triss to see how Brialla, who once rescued her from the Witch Hunters and ruin, asked her to go and leave her behind. Without the selfless and brave girl's action a week ago, she would have been caught, tortured and burnt at the stake in the middle of the Hierarch Square anyway. Thanks to her she was able to pick herself up again, being a harlot and making more in a week than during the last three months.

"Triiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissssssss!!!"

"Priscilla, hang on to my leg. With both hands. Now!... Brialla, I'll be back. I swear. Don't die, okay?!?" The red-haired sorceress yelled and magically waved the wounded harlot outside the burning building, then let the barrier collapse and kneeled down to Priscilla before speaking the spell to teleport them both to the Kingfisher Inn's basement. Instantly, a round portal shrouded in darkness and flames appeared out of nowhere and absorbed their bodies, making them fly through clouds and stars. The view resembled a miracle.

A dream.

Safety.

Then, from one peaceful moment to another, both girls dropped out and ruggedly dashed against something that felt like a cold stone floor, coughing up little drops of blood. It shouldn't be like that. The world still turning around them, Triss turned around and tried to locate what went wrong as she mumbled with wheezy voice when her eyes spotted the ceiling of a cave-like room, "Oh dammit..."
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Wet Cherry of Truth