LIQUID GOLD

Note; It takes the glimpse of a moment for a person to change. The bridge is the connection between mind and madness; heart and truth. And somewhere along the road and my feather of creation this idea came to me and had to be done.

It is certainly one of my alternate versions and ideas to the events of Witcher Season 2 because Eskel deserved better than a HI FCK DIE 40 Minutes episode in my eyes. Although this is not to be misunderstood as disrespect regarding the strong female front that brought us witcher as a series in the first place, but simply a form of creation and xoxo to the fans.

I do not own any rights, world creation or characters, this is all kudos to Andrzej Sapkowski. However, the love, raw creation and idea of this kind of Eskel that I wish we would have seen in Season 2 belongs to me and is inspired by the books and games as well as my own concept ideas. It is also a piece of heart to my slavish ancestors and the folklore I grew up with as a teen. The Leshen holds a special place in my heart and I will keep telling its story until I will become one with nature itself.

One day.

That's all it would take for Eskel to arrive at Kaer Morhen, the home and heart of the wolves.

Certainly he had stories to tell, the road of the wolf was an interesting one. Wild for sure. But Eskels heart was the essence of golden liquid. Perhaps it was the fact that amongst the Witchers he was still young and hadn't seen as much cruelty that the world had to offer.

Geralt had once mentioned it. Keep it Eskel, keep your chin up. That was the closest that Geralt would give as a somewhat genuine compliment and approach to showing a brotherly affection.

Coen was someone that you could talk to easier. A simple soul, but certainly up for shenanigans.

And then there was Lambert. What a prick.

Perhaps he had changed his looks, but the savage nature on Lamberts inside was one that not even a sorceress could jinx away.

Speaking of magic – would Triss sit amongst them?

Maybe.

Eskel would never forget the moment when they first met. Their magic connected. Both had felt it.

The memories of Kaer Morhen lead to a flattering feeling inside.

What stories would they tell? What memories would they share? What would Vesemir-

CRACK.

Eskel jumped when a giant branch fell down right next to him.

Just a branch. Calm down, Eskel.

He could hear Lamberts laugh and rolled his eyes over his own scary-cat moment.

But then he started to look around. The path he had walked on before was gone. Instead, he was surrounded by trees. So many freaking trees that one could not see through.

Eskel gulped and took a deep breath. It wasn't the first time he had taken another turn until he eventually got the hang towards the castle of the wolves. All he had to do was to take a moment and sort himself out again. It would be fine.

But why did it seem like a path of the woods he had never been before? And why was it so dark?

He could swear that it had been noon only and the sun had been up as well.

“It's gonna be fine”, Eskel encouraged himself.

The truth that followed was a different one. The more he walked around, the more parts he discovered that he had never walked on before. It felt like the area he had known for so long, but something felt different. No – actually ; something felt extremely uncertain.

Eskel stopped and looked around. Perhaps resting and meditating was the better choice. The wolf Witcher sat down and rested against a tree.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Silence.

How could it be that the woods were so damn silent?

Beware the echo of the woods, it will tell you when danger is near. The woods never go silent. Unless-

Eskel opened his eyes and looked up, a gasp stuck in his throat.

Crows. Sitting on branches and watching. Not one, not two – at least twenty, just from what he could gather from his position and eyesight. They were watching him.

Eskel moved his hand slowly to one of the potion bottles on his belt. That's what he needed. The night sight of a witcher.

There was a slight burn in his throat to the liquid before it fuelled his veins and turned his eyes black.

FUCK.

With the night sight, another horror revealed itself. Runes drawn on to trees, the ones you could only see through certain kind of magic.

And that's when he sensed it. His Witcher sword slightly howled. It was reacting to the presence that was now nearby.

There is an ancient creature lurking in the shadows.

It was one of the first lessons each Witcher had to face when it came to the path that lead to Kaer Mohren. Most witchers got killed when they get too comfortable in their skin, too light-headed. Vesemir had warned him and the others that the path to their castle was one that must never be taken lightly. He had warned them to stay focused.

But Eskel still didn't understand. A creature like that, so ancient, so powerful – so close to the castle? None of them had ever faced IT so close to home.

Home. Our home. My home.

If the creature was nearby, it was just a matter of time for it to come even closer to the castle. He couldn't let that happen. That's what they were born to do. Kill monsters. Save life's. Eskel had to.

Quickly, he grabbed another potion bottle. Relict oil. Useful when it came to ancient creatures. Although, the real deal would be solved with a solid burn of Igni and concentration.

You can do this, Eskel.

Just when he got up from his position, the creature that was lurking in the shadows finally revealed its true nature and self.

A Leshen.

Two heads taller, a clash of oak and birch covered in moss that almost made it look like a dress. There were no eyes or mouth, but the face was shaped as if it was directly staring into Eskels soul, and the top made it seem like a crown.

“Queen of the Woods, I see”, he mumbled and didn't leave it out of sight. This Leshen was different to the ones Lambert or Geralt had described. Most of them were known to be around Skellige.

The Leshen was still standing and staring. Unusual for a creature of that kind. Most monsters he had met on the road directly attacked. This one seemed rather curious. As if it knew what Eskel was thinking. Geralt had mentioned Monsters before that were not worth the fight, and that sometimes Humans were the actual monsters. What if the Leshe was just passing by? What if the Leshe had no intention to do something bad?

Bullshit – it was the echo of Lamberts voice in his head. But there was a part of Eskel that believed that there was no harm. After all, he had simply lost his path and the crows had only been watching him as well. There was a chance that he could get out of here. If he could leave without harm, he could also tell the others and come back with a much bigger front of fighters.

Eskel gulped. He had to make a choice. Now.

“I come in peace”, he finally said out loud, with a softness in his voice that showed genuine means.

Silence. The Leshen kept staring.

“I do not mean any harm. I got lost. But I have no intention to take anything from you and you're kind. All I need is a way back home.”

If Lambert could see him, he would mock the shit out of him.

But Geralt would understand.

The Leshen finally reacted and came closer. Eskels heartbeat fastened. He had never been so close to a creature without picking a fight. The Leshen stopped and looked down.

It's staring into my soul – again.

And that's when it happened.

The sting.

Eskel gasped when he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. While he had been paying attention to the ancient creature, one of the branches connected to the Leshen had moved up his back and was now inside him. But as quick as it entered his body, like the stitch from a dagger, it also vanished. The Leshen stepped back and Eskel sunk to his knees.

Cold sweat was running along his body – whatever just happened, his body was reacting to it. A poisonous essence running through his veins. That's when he grabbed his sword.

“Sorry my dear, but I don't appreciate a knife in the back!”, he hissed and got up from his knees.

Adrenalin. Sweat. Racing Thoughts. It was all clashing together inside Eskels mind.

The Leshen let out a screeching sound, a howl for help. But it was too late. Being so close gave Eskel the advantage he had intended to use in the first place.

Burn it by its core.

And he did. With the power of Igni he pushed through, swung his sword like a dance macabre connected to the fast pace movements he had learned all these years. There was not a single spark of empathy left in the witchers body. Only carnage and destruction, fuelled by the poison in his veins.

The scenery that was left was a firestorm of betrayal.

Eskel took the branches that were left and made his move.

If he could take on a Leshen, he could possibly take on whatever monster was coming next. Yes he could do it, yes he would make it, yes he would be known as the strongest amongst them. A rush of excitement ran through him. There was a new-found power inside him.

Eskel kept walking towards his home. He would return as the heroic wolf. Vesemir would be proud.

As the night vanished into dawn, Eskel became trapped inside his own mind with every step he took closer to home.

The essence of Eskel was dying with every step he took towards the castle.

All it took was a day and a bit of poison.

For the sins to grow and kill him — he who was known as the witcher with a heart of liquid gold.