Ysara had made up her mind. She would start training Victore the next morning.
The decision had weighed on her for weeks, but after the Life Hill incident, she could no longer ignore the urgency.
She stayed up late that night, poring over old scrolls and spell books, preparing for his lessons, her heart heavy with trepidation.
But just as the first rays of dawn began to peek over the horizon, a loud, insistent knock at the door disrupted her plans. She opened it to find a frazzled messenger, his robes disheveled and his face pale.
"The barrier in the east, Lady Ysara—it's failing. They've summoned you and the others at once," he stammered.
Ysara's stomach dropped. The barrier was the only thing protecting Egasrae from the horrors beyond its borders. If it was compromised… she couldn't even think of the consequences.
She turned swiftly, her robes swishing as she entered the cottage. Victore, still groggy, stood in the doorway of his room, rubbing his eyes.
"Mother? What's happening?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.
"There's an issue at the barrier," Ysara said briskly, striding to her shelves to gather her things. "I have to leave immediately."
"But… what about—"
"I know," she interrupted, her tone softening just a fraction. She placed a hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eyes. "We'll start your training as soon as I return. Until then, you stay here. No wandering, no trouble. Do you understand me?"
Victore nodded, but the faint flicker of excitement in his green eyes didn't escape her notice. She hesitated for a moment, her protective instincts warring with her urgency to leave.
"Victore," she said, her voice low and firm. "Promise me you'll stay safe."
"I promise, Mother," he replied, though his tone was just a bit too eager.
Ysara exhaled and gave him one last searching look before grabbing her staff and heading out the door.
The moment she was out of sight, Victore's lips curled into a grin. For once, he had the day to himself, free from Ysara's watchful eye and the suffocating restrictions she placed on him.
"Finally," he muttered, stepping out onto the porch and gazing at the sun rising over Egasrae.
He had plans of his own, plans he'd been concocting for weeks. Now was his chance to test his limits, to see what he was truly capable of.
Victore looked at the woods in the distance, his heart racing with anticipation. "Time to find out what's really out there," he whispered, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he stepped off the porch with the decision to go into the unknown.
But the plan had barely begun when Victore felt his freedom snatched away. The moment he stepped off the porch, a deep, commanding voice cleared behind him.
He froze mid-step, his heart dropping. Slowly, he turned to face the voice, and his eyes landed on Lord Azul.
The lord of the village stood tall and imposing, his cloak billowing lightly in the morning breeze. His sharp features bore an expression of calm authority, but his piercing eyes betrayed his suspicion.
Victore instinctively bowed, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought to suppress the glare threatening to claim his face. What does this man want now? he thought bitterly.
"Your mother wouldn't want you to do that," Lord Azul said, his voice steady but edged with warning.
Victore's jaw tightened, but he kept his tone neutral. "Do what, my lord?"
Azul's lips twitched into a faint, knowing smile. "Step beyond the safety of your home. I advise you not to. Find something healthier to hunger for."
Victore lifted his chin, his green eyes flickering with defiance. "I'm also a witcher," he said, his voice firm. "I want to know what lies beyond."
Azul tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Your mother has her reasons for restricting you, boy," he said, his tone softening slightly. "That should be what you desire to unravel—not the forbidden parts of Egasrae."
Victore sighed, a sharp exhale that masked the simmering frustration within. He didn't respond immediately, his mind working quickly.
Fine, he thought. If the man won't let me go now, I'll find another time.
Something was out there. He could feel it, a pull in his very core that he couldn't explain. But for now, he forced a docile smile, bowed politely, and turned back toward the cottage.
"Good lad," Azul murmured, watching him closely. His narrowed eyes lingered on the boy, the air between them heavy with unspoken tension, before he finally turned and strode away.
Once inside the cottage, Victore slammed the door shut and leaned against it, his fists clenching and unclenching.
He stared around the quiet space, his frustration threatening to boil over.
"Fine," he muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll do something… healthier."
He found himself in the farthest room of the cottage, pulling down cobwebs as his mother always insisted they brought bad luck. He worked methodically, his thoughts racing.
Despite his frustration, a part of him worried about his mother. As much as he relished her absence—an opportunity to think and plan without her shadow looming over him—he couldn't shake the gnawing concern for her safety.
He knew the eastern barrier was dangerous, and his mother was one of Egasrae's most powerful protectors.
Pausing, he glanced out the small, dusty window, watching the villagers moving about in the distance. "Come back safely," he whispered, gripping the cloth in his hand tightly.
He couldn't afford to lose her—not yet, not when so many questions still burned unanswered.