The Ash Tree - A Witcher FanFiction

{16}

***Content warning, this chapter describes topics that may be triggering for some readers, such as the mention of but not limited to SA. I will not be held accountable for anything that may trigger the reader. Proceed with caution.

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Yennefer beckoned me down the hall, moist walls of stone and the ambience of torches and chandeliers lining the way. The flames breathed on my skin, the warmth somewhat comforting my pounding heart.

I kept thinking back to what Yennefer said in the room after I'd been able to walk. Sitting next to me on the bed, she comforted my anxiety,

"These people, they've only known me from the tales. They only know me as a monster... They're not wrong."

"Prove them wrong, Mira."

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The room doors opened, the croaking of the hinges filling the silence in the room. All eyes were on me. Some faces I recognized, others I did not. But they all looked at me the same:

with wonder, fear, anger... The very same things I'd experienced as a woman, always perceived as something wrong.

I stood across the long dark, shimmering table. It was engraved with beautiful designs on its edges; of magical creatures, swirls, nature, and crystals. Its surface, cut from a tree thousands of years old, glistened from its protective coating.

It brought me comfort knowing I had Yennefer by my side, and Tissaia standing across from me. Mother looked at me with a nod and the hint of a reassuring smile.

Tissaia's lips parted as she drew in a breath, authoritatively poised,

"Today, we gather to discuss this sorceress, Mirabel Nash. As I can assume, many of you have heard stories of her. The death she has brought throughout the land, the destruction. Some of you may know her as the Ash Bringer, Death Bringer,..."

She paused, looking around the room. No one was looking at her.

Tissaia continued, "as a young girl following the Black Knight, she proved much more capable than we could have imagined. As I can see, there is great discomfort in this room. I cannot blame any of you, for knowing what she has done. That is why we must gather here today. To decide her fate."

I pursed my lips, my hands held in tight fists, doing everything to suppress my anxious heart. Tears threatened to fall, and I looked down in shame.

"Mirabel," Tissaia started, "we would like to hear your story."

I slowly lifted my head and glanced at Yennefer. She smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder, and I inhaled sharply,

"Seeing you all here, with those looks in your eyes, I feel a great shame. I know what I did was not right and that whatever I say now will not improve anything. But at least, before deciding to cut off my head, I must express the troubles that led me to become what I am now.

"When I was a young girl, my birth parents gave me away to a couple in a small village. My adoptive family never really told me this. They ran a farm. They were poor, but we were never short of a roof over our heads or enough food to keep our bellies full. I never saw my birth parents again.

"As time passed, my 'parents' came to discover, to their initial delight, a set of magical abilities that I possessed.

"It started with simple things, healing a bird's broken wings, watching plants age out of curiosity, fixing my father up when he'd fallen from the roof and broken his arm. I was barely old enough to remember all the things I did, but that time was good.