Part one: the ship and the journey

                                    

                                          
Music is the famous but utterly powerful Danse Macabre. I thought it was fitting.
                          
Art is Black Sea at Night by Ivan Aivazovski. 

                          
Enjoy, dear reader! 

                          


                          
Part one:
                          


                          
I awoke in a dark room. Upon closer inspection, it wasn't really a room at all. More like... a jail cell. This is great, honestly. I cursed to myself. Sturdy iron gates were on all sides of me, besides the one I was resting against. My vision swam and after adjusting I realised it was not only a migraine but also the fact that the entire room was gently swaying. I held my head with one hand as I used the wall for support to stand up. It smelled foul in here. Of salt, fish and urine. 
                          
"You're awake." A voice startled me. In front of me I quickly recognised Geralt, the Witcher, a character of the videogames I had played for hours on end, although it has been a long while since I last did so. 
                          
"Geralt." My voice held a question, but he simply nodded. This was not been the first dream I had about characters or scenes from books or movies, so I wasn't that worried. Only the headache confused me, since I shouldn't be able to feel pain in dreams. However, each dream I remembered this and checked if I was dreaming by pinching myself, I had been convinced that it hurt and thus was real. It never was. 
                          
"We've got ourselves into trouble again." He muttered, leaning his head back against the fence behind him. God, he's not wearing a shirt. Then, when a flash of lightening came, I remembered this scene from the game. We're on a ship. This is the moment where...
                          
"Gaunter O'Dimm." I spoke breathlessly, Geralts eyes shot to me.
                          
"What did you say?" 
                          
"Gaunter O'Dimm will offer you a deal." I said, not really thinking of how it would make me look. "But you probably shouldn't take it."
                          
There was no warning before he appeared. "Geralt! Remember me?"
                          
"There he is." I muttered under my breath. He looked exactly as he should, orange tunic, scheming smile and small, brown bags at either of his sides. 
                          
"I do remember, we met at White Orchard. You're..."
                          
"I believe this lady introduced me already. Gaunter O'Dimm. I helped you find your... Yennefer." Then his attention turned to me as he walked closer to the fence. He spoke without judgement in his tone, there was only slight amusement: "You're not supposed to be here." 
                          
"Yeah, sorry about that." I remembered stranger dreams I had had, in which I interfered in something I shouldn't have, this felt the same. "I could... leave if you want?" I gestured over my shoulder.
                          
"If only it were that easy." O'Dimm chuckled. Geralt stood up and faced O'Dimm through the bars. "Who might you be? Since you already know who I am, but I don't believe we've met."
                          
I thought of him calling himself a merchant, which is a bit laughable and decided to flip it on him and be vague on purpose. "I'm Annabel, just a simple... dreamer." I smiled and got up to my feet properly to stand next to Geralt. Then I remembered the mark O'Dimm would brand Geralt with. "And you will offer Geralt freedom in exchange for a favour. And then mark his face."
                          
"Impressive." If he was surprised he didn't show it, just kept the smile on his face. "I've little left to explain then. Are you a sorceress?"
                          
"Just a dreamer." I replied, shaking my head with a slight smile. 
                          
Without pause, Geralt spoke. "How did you get in here?" 
                          
In this dream, I wasn't sure how well Geralt and I were supposed to know each other, but it looked like he was used to my presence at least, asking no questions about my supposed knowledge of the 'future'. 
                          
"That'd be a long and boring story. I've come to help you again, after helping you find Yennefer last time we met. That includes you, Annabel. I wouldn't be so cruel as to just leave you here all alone." His smile widened a sliver as his eyes fell to me. "You do wish to leave this place, don't you?"
                          
"Of course we do, but what could you possibly do?" Geralt said, his expression serious as always. I kept silent, instead looked down, to find I was wearing the same clothes I was wearing the day before. No wonder I looked terribly out of place. 
                          
"More than you'll ever know. But someone here has more of an idea. Do you want my help or not?" His gaze rested on Geralt. Geralt looked at me, questioningly, as if to ask me if we should take it. Shit. I didn't know if there would be another chance, and it's only a dream, so I spoke.
                          
"Yeah, yeah, we'll do it. Get it over with." 
                          
Something sparked in O'Dimms gaze as it rested on me. "It's a deal. Once it's all over, we shall meet at midnight at the crossroads 'neath the willow trees near the village of Yantra." 
                          
Geralt and I both remained silent. I did not have any idea where Yantra would be, but I trusted Geralt had a map. 
                          
"And now for a little something to remember me by..." Sparks flew and Geralt clutched his face, groaning. Simultaneously, my left wrist started hurting; a sharp, white-hot pain. Then a crack of wood breaking was heard, it was O'Dimm breaking the spoon.
                          
"Cruel man." I said as I rubbed the burn with my other hand. At that moment the other unlucky prisoner spoke and the Merchant of Mirrors vanished. I whispered a curse, starting to realise this dream felt very, very real. Geralt looked at me, but before he could say anything, the ship shifted and creaked and we were thrown to the side.
                          
And then the storm hit the boat. What happened next is history. 

                          


                          


                          
Thank you for reading. Next one will be up shortly. Then things will get interesting.