Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Witcher characters in regards to both CD Projekt Red's video-game and Andrzej Sapkowski's literature series. This is for entertainment purposes only and no financial gain was or shall be sought from this work. I am only responsible for the events that take place and my own created characters.

Check my Tumblr page [CocoaOtaku] for Aleyanerie's character profile and image reference.

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Chapter I

Somewhere Beyond The Sea

I was the first to rise. The white sunlight of the morning streamed through the windows of my cabin, illuminating dust particles as the air slowly moved across the room, a low, rumbling creak reverberating through the wooden floorboards as the ship swayed to and fro. It had been a surprisingly peaceful evening; the sea had decided to treat us kindly, gently rocking us towards our destination as his partner, the sea breeze, encouragingly pushed us along with her guiding hands. We were travelling westwards, a foreign destination both enticing and unnerving circled and pinned on the parchment map laid out before me on my desk as I studied the course for the umpteenth time.

Temeria.

I had but only heard stories about the land of the Nordlings. A land full of men with skin as bleached and bright as new parchment, the hair on their heads yellow like straw. A land full of lush, green forests and vast grasslands peppered with flowers, violet, red, gold and blue...men and women who looked human but had the disconcerting, staring yellow eyes of rabid beasts, their hair as white as milk. The stories that my mother had whispered to me as she held me when I was small remained with me forever. They had been the basis of my dreams when I closed my eyes at night and my daydreams of travelling for as long as I could remember...a deep-rooted longing and burning sensation to realise these dreams had shortly followed, but it had never occurred to me that I would actually have the chance to.

A slow yawn escaped me as I stretched, slowly rising from my heavy, oaken chair and stepping towards the rusty mirror on the back of my cabin's door to gaze at my reflection. I had not had much of a chance to preen or pamper myself throughout the past few weeks; the sea had seemed angered for most of our journey until now, battering my ship left and right like a cat with a mouse in his paws. There had been no sleep for me, only keeping a close eye on my tiring crew and barking various orders when necessary. We were all exhausted, our current journey being our longest expedition at sea and it had already been eight weeks. Rations were low and the men had long stopped singing their heart-felt, acapella sea ballads, the only sounds emitted from their mouths being grumbles, groans or a mumbled "Aye, kaptan!" when given an order.

My eyes had dark rings beneath them this morning. It was a gift that my skin had been further darkened by the harsh sun, almost disguising all of my blemishes beneath my milky brown hue. My hair, however, had been lightened by the sun...my natural dark locks were similar to my mother's when loose; coiled curls that resisted and rebelled when brushed but enjoyed humidity, water and demanded constant care with various fragrant oils such as coconut, orange and almond. But for the past decade, I had donned long, thick matted hair...neat dreadlocks adorned with wooden and golden charms, often carelessly tied into an unruly bun atop my head but settling just above my waist when unbound.

My mother was Zerrikanian...a human and the daughter of a wealthy silk and spice merchant who had constantly been on the road. They had travelled together with his employees through the Korath Desert in order to sell their many wares to the many countries of the Northern Kingdoms and; Redania, Cintra and Temeria being just a few. It was on her travels in Temeria that my mother met my father. I have never met him. My mother believed that it was my right to know the truth from an early age; that she and my grandfather had been travelling with their company for four years, earning their wealth and importing goods from our country to theirs. In the last two years of her journey, she had met a man as they passed through one of the woods in Aedirn...average height, pale skin, and thick deep brown hair...with eyes like mine; large, olive green eyes that she said reminded her of opals. They had constantly met in secret whenever possible, sneaking and tiptoeing around and keeping their relationship as quiet as possible.

She had only realised that she was with child once she and my grandfather had set sail back to Zerrikania. And by then it was too late to find and tell my father. He had never known...he still did not know.

And he had been what they call Aen Seidhe. An elf.

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I carelessly tied my hair up with a length of deep red silk, tightening the ornate belt of my janbiya around my waist as I pushed open the door to my cabin. The air was fresh and light upon my face; the smell of seaweed and salt a comforting and familiar scent that excited me. The sea was my home. I paused in the doorway, bringing one hand to my forehead to shade my eyes from the sunlight as I squinted up at the bright blue sky. It was to be a clear last day at sea, no clouds in sight, only the silhouettes of a flock of seagulls soaring against the sun as their distant, ugly squawks announced their presence.

"Good morning, Leya." Asmaya, my first officer lowered her head in a slight bow then looked up with a toothy grin and an excited glint in her eyes as she handed me a large wooden goblet, full of steaming liquid, "The look-out has sighted land! We are but hours away!" she stepped aside to walk with me as we strode towards the forecastle deck, greeting all thirteen members of the crew as they noisily ate an improvised breakfast of tough, dried goat meat and black bread. I leant on the wooden railings and smiled, the many small golden hoops in my earlobes gently chiming as my movements caused them to clink and sway, "I can almost smell the riches...", I turned to Asmaya who smirked, "Although we both know that that is not the only reason why you decided to set sail for these countries..." I nodded, staring into the bottomless sea as the waves lapped and licked at my ship's wooden hull. It was true that part of me was curious to find my father - I bear him no grudge, as he simply did not know. It was obvious that both my mother and father believed their relationship to be fleeting; merely a few months or years of young love and passion before they both headed towards their separate futures. But half of my identity had yet to be discovered...it was almost as if I could not know myself fully until I had at least attempted to find the side of my blood which had bestowed my pointed ears and green eyes upon me.

Asmaya cleared her throat, breaking my line of thought, "We should prepare ourselves for a hostile welcome...I imagine that we are not to be an expected nor familiar sight." I squinted, furrowing my brow whilst fumbling through the tobacco pouch at my waist, "We are but a group of merchants...traders from Zerrikania, I do not see how or why those at the harbour would think otherwise." I noticed her frown as she too fished for her own tobacco and smoking pipe. We both had abstained from breakfast for the past week. With rations being so low, there had not been enough food for everyone on board to eat. In order to keep our crew healthy and happy, our breakfast consisted simply of a long smoke and bitter, black tea brewed from dried mint leaves. I angled the suns rays into my tinder box until the embers glowed a bright orange, then lit Asmaya's pipe, watching as she took a slow drag, her deep brown eyes never leaving mine, "I must warn you, sadikati, the Nordlings do not look upon elves as friends." I drew from my ivory pipe, exhaling, "I am no elf." My friend snorted, eyeing my ears and laughing as I scowled deeply, "If those large, pointy ears do not make you an elf, then-"

"I know nothing of their culture, their lands or their plight. I have only seen elves accompanying Nordlings who have visited Zerrikania with their slaves or prostitutes."

"It does not matter what you think you are. It only matters what they think. And according to their views, you fit the description of an elf. A half-elf." She paused, retying her velvet tobacco pouch with a small length of coarse cord, her thick, cropped hair moving in the breeze, "Even the elves themselves may distrust you. Just as the humans hate the elves...the elves hate the humans, as it has been for centuries. They will not accept you, you do not even speak Elder Speech. Perhaps concentrating on finding just the treasures..."

I glared angrily, causing her to trail off and lower her eyes. My voice raised slightly as my temper flared, "I know of the struggles. I do not need you to recite them to me and I don't need you to lecture me." I leaned close to her, "The map points us towards two treasures – an abundance of riches and my heritage. We will find both." I turned on my heel and down the wooden stairs leading to the main deck, feeling Asmaya's eyes on me as I left her.

We do not consider ourselves pirates. We are merely mercenaries who often pose as merchants, and traders. Our stock is almost always stolen goods, but we do not consider ourselves criminals or low-life thieves. Merely...opportunists. I had been introduced to this life at the age of seventeen after my mother had passed. Once my grandfather had discovered that my mother was with child, he had disowned her, casting her to the streets in shame, never to be seen again. My mother, Hiba, had refused to sell her body for money and insisted that we look for work in the main cities of Zerrikania. For most of my life, we worked in cloth manufacturers; dying silk and cotton, weaving wicker baskets and taking them to sell at market, keeping none of the profits and paid little by our employers. I don't like to talk about how she died, it is a part of my memory that I have blocked out over time. But it is after her death that my life took a change. I did not want to remain poor. My mother had worked hard to provide for us both, but I deserved a better life. I deserved far more, and it is after I met the infamous sailor Abd Al-basir of Zangwebar that things started improving. But that is not a story I wish to dwell on at this moment in time.

I took another drag from my pipe, walking slowly down the stairs towards the main deck, my crew silencing and standing to their feet as they saw that I wished to address them, "Dehna ad'erachu." I said loudly, the crew echoed my words in chorus, sitting back down as I raised my hand slightly, signalling them to sit and make themselves comfortable again. "We are to make the preparations to land soon as we are about to come into contact with one of the main ports at the coast..." I paced, smoking from my pipe, watching as the crew followed me with their eyes. "I want you on your best behaviour. As advised by my first officer, we are not to expect a warm welcome from the harbour. If asked, we are simply spice merchants from Zerrikania and Zangwebar. If they wish to further enquire, send them to me and I will direct them to the hold. We have sixty barrels full of of mint, cumin, sugar, ginger and cinnamon for their confirmation with a half-barrel of pearls. These will be sold at the markets in Vizima in order to raise more revenue for our expedition." The men remained silent and I smiled, "Once settled, we shall celebrate our safe arrival to these strange lands. I know that this has been a long journey, so before we leave the city, I want us all to be well rested with bellies full of warm food and cold beer."

"Thank you, kaptan!" One of the men yelled from the front, "If I could suggest that the celebrations include a selection of some of the local delicacies...soft, round, warm and curvy?" The rest of the men cheered, bursting into laughter as I gave a small smile, half-nodding, opening my mouth to answer only to be interrupted.

"It's been extremely...hard for us these past few months, kaptan!" another added gleefully, an eruption of cackling and giggles as the men swayed in their seats at the thoughts of finally satisfying their urges. Being on a large ship alongside twelve other men and two untouchable women for over a month, it was only understandable that this was the first thought on their minds and I knew that Asmaya had also been constantly bringing up the idea that she may take the most good-looking of the crew and have her way with him.

My crew disgusted me. My crew was nothing like that of Abd Al-basir's majestic ship ten years ago...there was no honour here. Excluding Asmaya and perhaps two crewmen, my ship was made up of only shallow, greedy, violent and untrustworthy individuals that thought of nothing but money, self-gratification and short-term pleasures. The most loyal and reliable of my crew members had since been either killed in battle or hanged by the government during the five years I had been considered the new "chief of the seas." Most of the men here were former navy members who had been enticed to join me. Mercenaries bought only by the idea of chasing legendary riches, sea battles and exotic women alongside the infamous, female pirate Aleyanerie. There is no honour here.

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We arrived at the harbour of Bremervoord in the late afternoon yet the port was still bustling with activity nonetheless. Military tall ships with great white sails and smaller trading ships, much like ours, were docked there, their brightly coloured flags flapping in the warm breeze as traders and soldiers alike strode onto land or aboard their ships, their footsteps loud against the wooden planks. Constant chattering, yelling and laughing intertwined with the melodies of a flock of seagulls above the gentle swishing and swashing of the sea.

I stood tentatively next to the gangway, leaning with both hands on the wooden balustrade of the ship, watching as the burliest men of my crew tied us to huge bollards on land. All of the faces here were pale, as I had imagined. Pale as snow with lips pink and thin, their hair straight and brown, blonde, black or red. There were no fellow Zerrikanians in sight here, and we were receiving a lot of interested and anxious glances from passersby; soldiers eyeing up my crews sabres with uneasy gazes and blatantly staring at my attire with expressions that resembled distaste and intrigue as I stood waiting for an official to greet me. I breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of smoked fish, spices and salty air as I kept my eyes on the small, hollow-cheeked man scuttling up the gangway to meet me. "Welcome to Bremervoord..." the man mumbled anxiously, shuffling the papers in his hands as he scrutinized me with watery blue eyes, the corners wrinkling as they narrowed slightly, lingering on my ears. He was dressed plainly in brown breeches, worn leather boots and an unpressed cream shirt, his grey hair tied neatly into a ponytail, a large goosefeather quill tucked behind his ear. The old man cleared his throat and handed me the papers, "Sign where asked to." he did not look at me as he handed me the quill, deliberately angling his hand so that his hand did not have to touch my own. I read the papers quickly, insuring that they were simply a docking permit and handed them back to the little man who had stood wringing his hands and staring into space as I wrote. He snatched them back, glancing over my handiwork, "A Zerrikanian trader ship..." he looked up at me, "We hadn't been expecting any of those today, what have you on board?" I paused, slowly folding my arms, "We are spice traders...we do not usually travel to these parts but were informed that Bremervoord was a prestigious centre for trade. Ten barrels of mint, cumin, ginger and cinnamon. Twenty barrels of sugar. One half barrel of pearls. If you wish to see for yourself, they are in the hold." I gestured towards the hold with my hand and he sniffed delicately, "No need." and shuffled from the boat without so much a glance in my direction.

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The evening came quickly and despite the looks from many citizens of the city, we were left to keep to ourselves. Already I had noticed how the attitudes held towards me were different...strange and foreign it was to me to be leered at so often with contempt. In both Zerrikania and across the sea in Zangewebar, I was feared and respected. Many stories of my time at sea and various battles with the government had reached the ears of even the poorest peasants in the largest cities, many of them being untrue hyperboles. But it had rendered me almost untouchable as no-one dared to cross the path of the infamous Aleyanerie; the mistress of the seas, breaker of boats and slayer of both men and monsters. I almost laughed to myself as we entered a small tavern named "The Blackened Pearl," the men chatting amongst themselves idly, making eyes at the various women we passed along the way. The tavern was loud; a bard telling tales in the corner by the empty fireplace, lightly strumming his lute as he sang about dragons, kings and spirits of the sea, the light low with candles flickering here and there as groups roared with laughter, played card games and drinking until their cheeks were red. My crew seated themselves in a quiet corner, causing a ruckus as they ordered several beers alongside numerous plates of sliced sausages on beds of crisp salad, legs of grilled lamb encrusted in herbs and dripping with hot fat, mountains of herring in oil and onions with various cheeses, breads and cakes to accompany. All were shamelessly flirting with the young waitresses as they bought their many mugs of beer and plates of food, joyously enjoying having finally set foot on solid ground.

After caving into the request that I drink at least one alcoholic beverage with the crew, the men cheering as I downed the last dregs of ale from my mug, Asmaya and I retired to our own corner, ordering large bowls full of barley broth boiled with fatty chunks of beef and carrots and plate full of fresh pierogi. "We're getting a lot of attention, it is almost as if the citizens had never seen a brown face before," Asmaya wistfully slurped a spoonful of her broth, crossing her legs as she picked up the bowl to drink the remains. I chewed tentatively, glancing quickly in both directions, "We are being watched." I lowered my voice, my gaze fixed on a group of three red-faced, off-duty city guards who were leaning back in their chairs, legs spread wide open with lazy expressions of contempt spread across their faces. I caught the eye of the tallest; a blond, bulky man with a deep, crimson scar running from his left earlobe to his chin. He would have been handsome except for the fact that his contorted expression was distorting his features. I rolled my eyes, picking up the wooden bowl of broth in both hands and drinking the leftovers only to then hear the scraping of chairs and hard boots against wooden floorboards approaching our table.

The blond man put a sturdy, scarred hand on the back of my chair, blocking any way of escaping and peered down at me from under a heavy brow, "I fucked a she-elf once...I daresay I would like to do so again..." He sneered, flinching as Asmaya suddenly bounded from her seat, one hand on the hilt of her janbiya dagger, the other grabbing the man by the scruff of his neck, "Do you not know who you are addressing?" she hissed, bringing her face close to his, "If you want a fight, I will take you." She took a step closer, "I will drag you from this shithole of a tavern, hang you from a tree by your feet, skin you and leave you for the insects and birds." The man pushed her from him, a dark expression falling across his face as his two companions 'oohed' at her threat, nudging one another in the ribs and chuckling to themselves, hands now on the hilts of their own swords. The taller man smirked, "It is not often I come across women as beautiful and feisty as yourself." he straightened his shirt, Asmaya loudly scoffing as she stared him down. He paused, "However, you and your knife-eared whore need to leave. Elves are not welcome in this tavern, as you can see..." He gestured towards the rest of the pub, pointing out that no other non-humans had dared to enter. There was a silence as Asmaya looked from me to the man, silently asking me what our next move was.

I stood slowly, my blood boiling and the tips of my ears burning. Never had I been so insulted or degraded. I squared up to the man, breathing deeply as I tried to contain my temper, fists clenching and unclenching. In the past, I would have dragged the twat outside and cut his throat without a second thought, however, time and experience had taught me that I must be calculated and that I must be controlled, especially when in the lands of foreigners. My voice was loud and confident, silencing the rest of the tavern and causing everyone to turn and look upon the situation, "You will get out of my face right now, you insolent little shit. Or I will kill you." His friends cackled with laughter, the man nervously joining them, never taking his eyes off of me, occasionally glancing at my sabre. He ground his teeth, obviously not accustomed to back-chat from those he considered to be second-class citizens, the muscle in his jaw twitching furiously as the tension between us rose. Out of nowhere, he sprang at me, grasping my wrist tightly enough to bruise the skin and began twisting my arm as if to break it. I lifted my knee to his crotch, his balls crunching as it impacted and felt him loosen his grip as he fell to the ground, his hands moving to cradle his injured parts. Just as his friends readied themselves to join in, I stamped on the man's wrist with my full weight and ground my heel as hard as I could, feeling the bones break and crunch beneath my foot. His agonising scream deterred the two men who stopped in their tracks, further scared by the sight of my crew scrambling to my aid. I leaned down and lifted up the blond man's chin with a finger in order to angle his face towards mine, "If there is a next time, I will break your fucking neck." He whimpered, tears of pain streaming from his reddening eyes and I dropped his head, turning to my crew, signalling for us to leave before the situation escalated further, watching as Asmaya kicked him in his side and spat on him.

As we had left, various angry insults were hurled at me from ignorant witnesses, "Ugly elf whore!", "Ploughin' piece of pointy-eared pig-shit!" and many more I do not care to waste time remembering. I had realised that the relations between elves and men would be different here, but I had not known that it would be so immature and baseless.

The evening air was warm, a cool gentle wind carrying the scent of the sea throughout the city as household fires and candles were lit casting orange glows and dark shadows across the city paths. "We need to find somewhere to stay for tonight, kaptan." The largest member of the crew's name was Ezana; a broad, large dark man with square features and a thick, coarse-haired beard to compliment his hairless head. His eyes were black as coal, small and deep-set, and his broad smile peppered with gold teeth, one with a tiny ruby set into it's centre. I had met him two years ago on one of the small islands a few miles away from the coast of Zerrikania; a blacksmith by trade who had gotten into trouble with the local moneylenders when his business had started to fail. In return for his labour at sea for a year, a small sum of gold and an assortment of weaponry, I had agreed to dispose of the gang. He had kept his word and decided that he wanted to stay as a member of my crew beyond the contract, proving himself to be an adept and skilled sailor and enjoyable company. Yet I still did not trust him.

"Mhm." I said in agreement, then turned to the crew, "To the next tavern." The men followed wordlessly, none daring to comment on the racist escapade that had just occurred. Their conversations picked up again as we set off through the city streets in search of lodgings, avoiding any taverns which seemed to be overrun with drunk guardsmen or off-duty soldiers. As we turned another corner, a hand grabbed at my shoulder, "Wait, ffrind!" my hand automatically flew to my janbiya dagger, a tight grip forming on the hilt, only to loosen when the woman retracted slowly with her hands in the air, "I'm no enemy of yours, ffrind," she said breathlessly, her breathing fast, indicating that she had been running after us. She was petite; small in both size and stature with sharp features, pallid skin and large hazel eyes, her blonde hair loose except for two braids at her brow. Her ears were pointed, like mine, and pierced once with simple, silver studs. I relaxed, Asmaya striding to my side with folded, expectant arms, "My name is Aelwen." she stated, eyeing the crew warily, "A friend of mine saw what happened in The Blackened Pearl...not exactly the warmest of welcomes really," she laughed nervously, then cleared her throat. "If you're looking for a place to stay, you're in the wrong part of the city. My friend sent me to take you to the non-human enclave, he wishes to meet with you. It'll be safer for you there, Ms...?" I studied her face for a few seconds then bowed slightly, "Leya. My name is Leya...and this is Asmaya and my crew."

We followed the young elf-woman closely, the size of the group drawing attention from many of the night-dwellers around the city. She turned to me as we walked beneath a bridge and smiled, "You must be from across the sea. I hope that you don't mind me saying; I've never met anyone with skin like yours before, let alone an elf...sorry, half-elf. It's intruiging, almost like the colour of dark honey." She stared at me a little longer, taking in every last bit of my features, Asmaya and Ezana rolling their eyes together at the corner of my vision. "I don't know if I consider myself an elf," I stated lowly, "I have never been asssociated with that side of my family. I know nothing of your customs, language or..." Aelwen shook her head, "With ears like yours, there is no-one who would not consider you an elf here." she looked up at me, "It seems that you would have to learn to accept this. Here you are not dh'oine."

We arrived at the tavern; a narrow, wooden building with many windows on it's three storeys, each with a bright, light warm glowing inside. Music, cheering and the sloshing of liquids escaped from the open window on the lowest floor, melding with the sweet smells of grape wine and apple cider.

"You'll find a dwarf here called Aggi , ffrind." The elf said, holding the door open for my companions and I as we entered. "He can help you find what you are looking for...he knows of your map." And with that, she left as quickly as she had arrived, disappearing silently into the shadows as she left us to our fate.

Kaptan - Captain

Sadikati - My friend

Dehna ad'erachu - Good Morning

Janbiya - A specific type of dagger with a short curved blade and a medial ridge

Asmaya - AS-MY-AH

Pierogi - Polish dumplings traditionally stuffed with potato filling, sauerkraut, ground meat, cheese, or fruit.

Ffrind - Friend