The Legend of Yennefer

Written by - TheFoxBride

“Every story has a beginning, and hers did not start in a warm room of a safe castle.”

A full moon shimmered off the surface of a calm lake. Nimue gazed off into the darkness that stalked her and a smattering of students. They had traveled from far and wide to learn from the legendary sorceress whose tales of the Lion Cub of Cintra had turned many skeptics of the stories into believers. After the previous night’s account of the White Wolf of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg was the subject now. The Lady of the Lake took a deep breath and continued.

“Legends and myths often blend with reality to create something fantastical. Ours begins over two hundred years ago in the land of Aedirn as Belleteyn celebrations rang into the night. The festival of fertility and physicality bore a girl who fought her way into the world. A fight she would continue her entire life.”

Nimue again took a pause as the students quivered in anticipation. 

A man with a Redanian accent spoke up. “Miss, how are we to judge what is myth, and what is reality?”

“Just let her continue, you asked enough questions about the witcher already,” a woman with a Brugge intonation pleaded.

The restless students began to clatter about, but the mage calmed them, her demeanor taking on a philosophical bent.

“To question is to learn, otherwise I never would have uncovered the story you are about to hear. How many legends, or myths, have you heard that were depressing, or uninteresting?” she asked rhetorically. “Reality can be discouraging, causing us to question our lives and direction. Legends reinforce the lessons we have been taught, what we believe in.” Her mind raced with previous encounters of dreams and illusions. She shook clear of the thoughts. She peered over her captivated audience and in steely resolve stated, “It is up to you to determine your own legend, myth, and reality.”

Heads nodded, and a murmur of understanding pervaded throughout the appeased group.

“As the Belleteyn bonfires raged, Yennefer was ripped from her mother’s womb. The disappointment on her father’s face was immediate as her deformed back was plain for all to see. A was a sin he would never forgive, and even blamed his wife’s elven blood for causing it.”

“So Yennefer was a quarter-elf?” The Redanian queried, undeterred by previous attempts to stop with the questions.

“Yes, as many are. And it would be foolish to pay any heed to her father’s beliefs that it had in any way caused the abnormalities in his daughter’s appearance. Regardless, he would seek retribution with constant abuse. A reminder that she would never be worthy of his love.”

“What happened to him?” 

“The same thing that happens to us all.” Nimue grinded a flower through her hardened fingers. A lifetime of magic, incantations, and travelling the continent in search of truth and illusion had taken its toll, but she had returned home to the isle of Inis Vitre, to her tower, and her fate.

“This is not his time,” she declared. “This is the time for Yennefer of Vengerberg.”

If you would like to listen to the narrated version by Lionhart check here