Chapter 88: Red-Kite's Fate
The dryads' dwellings, unlike those of humans, were all grown from trees and vines, adhering to each other without the use of a single nail. Through the windows formed by leaves and branches, one could vaguely see faint light the glow of fluorescent insects. The dryads kept these insects indoors because, to protect the forest, they never used fire.
However, this method of illumination, which sounded rather romantic, was incredibly inefficient. It barely managed to light the interior, while the outside was plunged into complete darkness.
At this moment, the 'harmonious' ecology of Brokilon ironically became the perfect cover for the two night travelers. The endless chorus of insect noises perfectly masked the sounds generated by the pair (though mostly Arthur) as they moved.
"That should be Eithné's residence," Kolgrim whispered, pointing ahead.
This was almost a needless observation, as the structure ahead was quite unique. Unlike the tree houses inhabited by ordinary dryads, which were grown from oak and tree vines, this one was formed by three growing oak trees fused together. In the night, it towered like a small hill. Its ceiling the canopy was brightly illuminated, clearly using a much higher-grade magical lighting.
They climbed the tree vines on the surface of the tree house, spiraling upward until they reached the skylight emitting the light.
Arthur pulled a small knife from his pocket the one he had prepared to gift Red-Kite earlier and extended it above the skylight, carefully adjusting the angle. Finally, the scene inside was reflected on the mirror-like blade.
Eithné's tree house was less a room and more a hall. Under the conical dome, the spacious interior was carved out of almost the entire tree heart. The Dryad Queen knelt in the center of the carpet, with Red-Kite standing behind her, head bowed.
The dome of the tree house was shaped like a perfect acoustic resonator. Even without the enhanced perception provided by [Dungeon Explorer], Arthur could clearly hear the conversation inside.
Eithné: "The ravens brought back word. They found that patch of forest, and it looks exactly as you described. That man's power is as dreadful as you claimed."
Red-Kite nodded: "I would not conceal the slightest detail from you, Your Majesty."
Eithné: "I have always known your loyalty, and I thank you for what you did today. Without you, the beauty of Duén Canell might have been ravaged."
Red-Kite: "That is what I feared."
Eithné stood up, slowly circling Red-Kite: "You spent the longest time with that human. Besides that terrifying roar, what other skills does he possess? Can he… can he possibly escape my dryads' hunt?"
Red-Kite suddenly looked up: "Your Majesty, conflict with Arthur is completely unnecessary! Before he entered the forest, he was ambushed by four elves, yet he used a skillful illusion to turn the tide and even captured one of them…"
When speaking of Toruviel, Red-Kite's tone became more urgent: "Furthermore, that elf they went to great lengths to bring her here because they want to release her in your presence, in exchange for their companion's freedom."
Eithné's steps stopped behind Red-Kite. Her long, green fingers tapped successively on Red-Kite's shoulder: "Red-Kite, how many years have you been with me?"
Red-Kite's voice trembled slightly: "I… I do not remember."
Eithné: "It has been five years since I took you down from the gallows. For these five years, you have been remarkably capable, risking your life countless times to lure the Verden men into our encirclements."
Red-Kite: "It is my honor to serve you."
Eithné pressed her shoulder, signaling that she wasn't finished speaking: "I have been thinking lately. Your deeds have gradually spread across Verden territory. Your space for survival in the human world has become smaller and smaller. You are the sharpest blade in my hand, and you should not be broken so easily."
Red-Kite lifted her head. Even on the narrow knife blade, her agitation was visible: "Your Majesty, I…"
Eithné: "I know you are willing to give everything for the dryads. But Brokilon will not ill-treat its children. I have decided. Tomorrow, you will drink the Water of Brokilon in place of that little girl. You are just like her strong, intelligent, and resilient. You will surely become the most outstanding dryad."
Red-Kite's voice sounded incredulous: "You want me to drink the Water of Brokilon?"
Eithné: "Hmm? Are you not pleased? Once you become a dryad, your archery will be further enhanced. You might become the greatest archer in history."
Red-Kite remained motionless, her voice sounding like two stones grinding together: "I... I am very happy."
"That damn old hag, setting her sights on her own subordinate!" Arthur muttered, completely failing to notice that he had forgotten to control his volume.
In the reflection on the knife blade, Eithné suddenly looked up: "Who is there?!"
A band of light abruptly appeared on the ground below, followed instantly by a slender figure in the light. Eithné was about to step out!
Kolgrim glared helplessly at Arthur. He swore that if they managed to escape this time, he would fit the boy with a wooden bit. Talking during a mission was an absolute taboo for stealth!
The dryads, still fighting in chaos, saved their operation. Eithné shouted several times but saw no dryads respond or approach. Only berries zipped back and forth in the darkness.
"Go! Back to the tree house!" Kolgrim grabbed Arthur, and the two slid down the vines in the opposite direction from Eithné. Taking advantage of the confusion, they tiptoed back.
"What's the situation?" The moment they returned to the tree house, Geralt anxiously rushed to meet them: "Did you find out anything?"
Kolgrim nodded: "Eithné seems to have given up on turning Ciri into a dryad. She's planning to have Red-Kite drink the Water of Brokilon instead."
Geralt sighed in relief: "That's at least some good news. This way, at least Cintra won't declare war on the dryads." He and Ciri had only known Red-Kite for a short time. Hearing that she would have her memories wiped only led to a general feeling of melancholy, nothing more profound.
Zoltan, however, frowned: "But why would Red-Kite have to drink the Water of Brokilon? She's always stood on the dryads' side."
Kolgrim sighed: "That's probably precisely because she stood on the dryads' side that she's being asked to drink the Water of Brokilon. All this time, her attitude towards us has been a little too friendly the dryads have clearly begun to doubt her loyalty."
"Loyalty that isn't absolute is absolutely disloyal, eh?" Zoltan scoffed: "These dryads, they talk about upholding ancient traditions, but they're pretty quick to adopt human ways! Arthur, what do you think? Are you going to get involved in one more piece of meddling?"
"Hey, where's Arthur? Didn't he come back with you?"
Kolgrim broke out in a cold sweat of alarm and rushed to the doorway to look outside. Under the Witcher's excellent night vision, the path from the tree house to Eithné's residence was as clear as day, yet Arthur was nowhere to be seen.
He scanned the area anxiously, when suddenly his gaze focused on the base of the giant oak. A familiar figure was following the flowing water and leaping into the cave.
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