(Warning: Contains ongoing discussion about consent and similar things. Please read the A/N for a little bit more information. Also contains quite a bit of frank conversation regarding sex.)

(A/N: I’ve had some more feedback about this mini sub-arc making people feel uncomfortable. To which my response is a kind of “sorry, not sorry” kind of thing. What is happening, what is being done to Freddie and what is being done by the dryads/the Schattenmann to each other is messed up and some of that is called out in this chapter. However, if you would prefer to avoid reading about this, then please skip this chapter with my blessing as Freddie, Kerrass and everyone will be descending into the heart of the Forest next chapter. Thanks for reading.

A/N2: Also, regarding the matter of Trayka’s new name. Yeaaaahhhhh. I can explain it away and I have, but I made that mistake. It’s supposed to be Yew-Branch. Elm-Branch and Willow-Branch are other people. I was trapped and confused myself with my own choices regarding dryad naming conventions.)

For those people that might be worrying about it, I am not going to spend however many thousands of words or articles talking about what life was like with the two wonderful women that I found myself with. Certainly not any kind of blow by blow account nor am I just going to give you the highlights of the matter. There were several moments that I will keep close in my mind and the amount of kindness that they showed me during that first night that we spent together was one of them.

The full story of the two weeks would make a pretty good book from academic terms I think. Obviously, my first concern is the great series of works that I have undertaken with Lady Yennefer and others about the cataloguing and detailing of the various otherworldly entities that have come to our continent. But at the time that I write this, I am rather ahead of target in that regard.

The next book after the first volume on Jack, which is selling rather well, all things considered, is going to be a book on my visit with the Unseen one of the Elder Vampires. My interview with him has been annotated and written up as well as the more detailed study of the party that I attended beforehand. I have interviewed a more accomplished courtier friend of mine from the university that is writing me an insert that will be added to the book on the Elder regarding the interplay between the other Elder Vampires during that party. So other than that, my work there is done.

So I might indulge myself at some point in the future and write up the full two weeks that I spent with Chestnut-Shell and Apple-Seed. There was a lot that happened and a lot more to be commented upon.

I wonder if the Empress can persuade the dryads of the Brokilon to allow me to go and visit in order to do some kind of comparative study on the two different cultures.

But nevertheless. There is not going to be a blow by blow account of what life was like. Apart from anything else, It would go on forever when the main focus of this set of articles is about the Black Forest as a whole and the Schattenmann in particular.

I don’t have time for the other, I’m getting married soon.

It was the most bittersweet time of my life.

On the one hand, I would not trade that experience for anything in the world. But on the other hand. It left me feeling endlessly guilty. It was as though I was paying for that happiness at every stage. I felt guilty about betraying Ariadne, I felt stupid for allowing myself to get trapped into the position that I was in. I was also angry at the fact that I was in this position but also, I felt awful for the two women that I felt were just as trapped as I was.

But I was happy. The two women, the two girls, which is how I slightly condescendingly thought about them and still think about them really, were wonderful. They fell over themselves to make my stay with them as comfortable and as enjoyable as they could manage. Those two women were amazing and I will fight anyone that might suggest differently. They held me in the deep darkness of the night, they laughed at me and with me when shadows needed dismissing from my mind and my thoughts. We danced, we spoke and yes, we loved each other as best we could.

But all the way through it, there was a desperation to it all. A feeling of clinging onto things because there was no other choice. It felt like… we were trying to fit an entire… marriage really into the space of two weeks and none of us had the knowledge or the skill or the ability, to lessen the emotional impact that was falling down on the three of us.

I regularly thought of my time with Saffron and Marion. Both of them were very different women in their own right, but they shared a skill that I don’t have and that both Apple-Seed and Chestnut-Shell lacked, in that they prepared me for the moment that it would be time to go. I loved and still love Marion a little bit. But she never allowed me to get too close and when the time came, she moved me on. Saffron did not allow those feelings to develop, there was never any doubt as to who she loved.

But with the two dryads, it just couldn’t happen like that. I know myself well enough to realise that I could have loved them. If the proverbial axe of the headsman wasn’t hanging over us, without that pressure, I could have loved them and when it came time to leave, if I had had any choice in the matter, I might have been tempted to stay.

However, there was always that knowledge that as lovely as they were, as kind, gentle and caring, I was being forced to be there. I found myself having to guard my tongue so that in those moments of vulnerability when we were all tired, sweaty and a little bit… I’m gonna say “satiated”, not to say things like “I wish we could have met under normal circumstances.”

There was no avoiding that truth though. So although it was among the happier times in my travels, it was also among the darkest.

I was not the only person that felt that way either. One morning, I was supposed to go for a walk with Chestnut-Shell. Apple-Seed was off training somewhere, a habit that she insisted on keeping up both for herself and to allow Chestnut-Shell and I to have some time with each other. But I couldn’t find the attendant. In the end, I found her sitting on a part of our balcony that we didn’t normally use and she was staring off into the trees with tears running down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m happy.” She sobbed. And we both knew what she meant.

We were happy, that little trio of two dryads and a human. We were happy, we slotted together nicely, intellectually, socially, emotionally and yes, physically as well. I could make Chestnut-Shell laugh whenever she was feeling everything getting on top of her. I could make Apple-Seed feel confident in her own abilities. And they both had the talent of steering me out of the darkness whenever my own mind decided that it wanted to hate me.

But there was always that undercurrent that nothing of this would have been happening if we… If I had had a choice in the matter.

That first night after Yew-Branch’s change into being a dryad we went back to our dwelling place and we spent a lot of time talking things through. That is not a conversation that I am going to share because it mostly involved the nature of our physical pleasure. We spoke about our sexual experiences which embarrassed us all until I pointed out how funny the entire thing was and that laughter started to relax us. As we relaxed, we became braver and slowly, we managed to enjoy ourselves and each other.

There was much hilarity about my genitalia. They made me run around with my manhood out, swing it around in circles and jerk it around so it slapped against my legs and belly. I have never been shy about the fact that I am not hugely endowed. The strangest and most backhanded compliment I have ever been paid was by a courtesan who told me that I was “pleasingly average” in that regard and both of the dryads howled with laughter when I told them that story.

They spent some time examining me before Chestnut-Shell insisted that we examine Apple-Seed before Apple-Seed and I pounced on Chestnut-Shell and spent some time introducing the attendant to the joys and pleasures of her own body.

Of the two of them, Chestnut-Shell was the shyest and we had caught her trying to push the other two of us around so that she didn’t have to do anything or have anything done to her. So she protested quite a bit when Apple-Seed, and later I, pushed the issue a little and insisted that it was our privilege to love her as she deserved.

Apple-Seed was less timid with her body which I assumed, correctly, to be a side-effect o the fact that she was a scout and regularly had to bathe in public, or train or fight. I asked her why she was so shy socially around the others. It came out that she wasn’t shy about her body, she was quite proud of its shape, other than the fact that it was too short and too slight for her to do what she wanted with it. So she had had to improvise which is where the new fighting style had come from. Her social shyness came from the fact that her peers were always teasing her about her lack of capabilities, not her shape.

That night, we ate, we drank and we explored each other. It was, all-round, a very pleasant evening.

The following day, Chestnut-Shell left early while Apple-Seed and I were still asleep and she returned with our herbal supplements that acted as strong aphrodisiacs and fertility drugs. There were also other potions designed to help with my virility and a couple of other things that Chestnut-Shell insisted that we all drink.

The previous night, we had all agreed that setting time aside for lovemaking, to schedule that as part of the day, would be the death of joy. Although we definitely needed to arrange matters so that we didn’t… forget… to have sex, we would not say things like “Oh it’s sunset, time for Freddie and Chestnut-Shell to be going at it when Apple-Seed was cooking.”

We did agree a deadline of three days before my departure that, if they weren’t pregnant, then we would get the next set of drugs and we would force the matter a little further. Those drugs sounded both terrifying and more than a little bit… exciting.

As it was though, the stuff they gave me was… well… Potent. That’s the word I’m looking for. They were potent.

Like the healing salves and potions that had been used on me when I had my ankle broken if the dryads decided to trade these things with the greater world outside, I swear that they would make a fortune. I know alchemists that would kill for that kind of knowledge. I even said so and both women, while giggling, told me that this was the reason that I wouldn’t be given the recipe.

The medicine was most potent for the morning of that day and it was only the need for sustenance that caused things to come to a stop. It was enormous fun at the time, but later that evening, I was concerned that it had all been a bit fast and a little bit… full on for both of the dryads who were unused to these kinds of activities. Although they both protested otherwise, and I am confident that they meant it, I know that Chestnut-Shell herself was a little sore afterwards. That didn’t stop her from getting more doses for the following day and every day between then and when we were due to move on.

As I say, it was most potent after the first dose but after that, I found that the effects could be, not ignored, but set aside. Chestnut-Shell explained that this particular dosage could not force something that wasn’t already there, so it could not arouse a man that did not want to be aroused. Nor could it cause attraction unless there was already some form of attraction there. It was an amplifier.

There were stronger drugs though which would cause me to be as hard as a rock and able to give seed at any kind of moment. As well as aphrodisiacs that would reduce anyone, human or dryad, to puddles of lust-filled goop.

Her words.

But that was the stuff that was reserved for unwilling participants and as I was willing, and they were too, that was reserved for if and when things got more urgent. They tried to reassure me that such things hardly ever got used anymore as most men that came to the village were more than willing. But that didn’t help and I spent a small amount of time being angry which upset the girls a bit further.

Yes, I am aware that I am being a bit condescending in calling them “The girls” but they liked it and when I apologised for calling them that when I was talking to Kerrass and Yew-Branch, Trayka as was, they giggled and told me not to be stupid. Apple-Seed especially enjoyed being referred to as “my girl” for reasons that I can only assume are tied up in her little mind.

We soon fell into a routine. Chestnut-Shell kept a schedule that reminded me of what Brother Mark used to tell me about the routine of monks. She would always, always be outside in order to watch the sunrise and watch the sunset. The fact that we were under a canopy of trees and that therefore, the exact time that this was taking place was a bit nebulous. When I pointed out that there was no possibility that she could actually see the sun rising or setting, she laughed at me. “Silly Human,” She would say before getting on with her prayers, meditations or whatever it was that she was doing.

She would also rise from her bed to observe some kind of holy right at midnight and she would make herself scarce at midday to do the same. Beyond that, she was my companion throughout the morning because Apple-Seed would be off training. She had some duties in the early part of the afternoon but when I challenged her on that, or on those days where other things were going on, she had no problem abandoning those duties for whatever I, Apple-Seed or Apple-seed and I had planned. I suspect that she was leaving time for Apple-Seed and me to be alone together.

Apple-Seed did not get up that early. She seemed to be on some kind of holiday which meant that she was not tied up to any kind of duties while she was trying to get pregnant, so she took great delight in being able to sleep for as long as she wanted. But when she did wake up, she refused to set aside her training and would get to work. Running through the trees, she did obstacle courses and trained with her spear, bow and her new fighting style. I would occasionally join her but with the added chemical enhancements, we soon ended up doing physical training that was something other than working with our weapons if you follow.

Then the three of us would get together in the mid to late afternoon where we would spend time together. We walked around, enjoyed the sights, the quiet and of course, we enjoyed each other. It was a wonderful time and as I say, if nothing else was going on, I would hold that time up as the best time of my journey up until that point.

But there was always that underlying doubt, the pressure that went with it.

We all doubted ourselves and doubted each other. Would we be here, would we be loving each other if things were different if there wasn’t that added rule? Chestnut-Shell and Apple-Seed especially took that hard. In finding me they had also found each other and if I am any judge, there was genuine attraction, affection and passion growing between the two of them. But there was always the doubt that it had happened because they were forcing me to make them pregnant.

And they were, both of them scared that when I was gone, that memory, that fact, would sour their future relationship.

I tried to talk them around that of course, as I worked with them both on improving their confidence and their courtly techniques. But I worry that that doubt will always be there for the pair of them.

Of the two of them, Apple-Seed’s confidence issues were the easiest to fix. We went to the training grounds and had it out a little bit, it wasn’t long before the inevitable happened and someone came over to talk some dirt about Apple-Seed’s new fighting technique.

Apple-Seed started to visibly lose her confidence and sense of self-worth. She started to fold in on herself and become nervous. So I used some of the nastier tricks in my repertoire until the opponent lost her temper and called Chestnut-Shell something that I’m not going to utter here.

Apple-seed's eyes caught fire.

Then the opponent insulted me. The match began and two minutes later, the weapons-mistress and I had to pull Apple-Seed off her opponent for fear that she might be killed.

The new weapon system worked admirably.

A somewhat calmed Apple-Seed challenged everyone else there to come and have a go if they thought they were up to it. A few did, some as angry as the first challenger and some a little bit more respectful and wanting to test the new style for themselves. All of which, Apple-Seed saw off, more than one of them was bleeding from various cuts and scrapes.

Then the Weapons-Mistress giggled a bit as Apple-Seed marched up to me, grabbed me by the lapels and took me off into the woods.

After that afternoon, Apple-Seed seemed to walk a little taller. She was only a little bit over five feet tall normally but she walked with her shoulders back, her chin up and a new look of defiance in her eyes. It suited her too and when Chestnut-Shell joined us later on that afternoon, the change was commented on.

It still needed some calcifying. She woke up thinking it was a bit of a dream, a sentiment that some others shared but another demonstration lesson later as well as the Blonde-Giant turning up to take a few lessons from her niece, soon did wonders for Apple-Seed’s confidence.

It was not lost on me that in a couple of demonstration bouts, both Blonde-Giant and the Weapons-Mistress were able to score points against the little warrior, but there was still enough of a disparity there. Also, someone had made a whole bunch of training javelin and as well as archery, people were now training with the shorter throwing spears. Apple-Seed was invited to give a few lessons in that respect and her confidence grew immeasurably.

Chestnut-Shell was a somewhat more difficult task to get her to change her ways. Mostly, that was due to the fact that I couldn’t see her in her place of work as it were. A lot of what attendants do is secret and understandably so. Whether it was being kept secret from me or kept secret from the other people in the settlement I never found out, but either of which was a perfectly acceptable way to tell me to fuck off and leave her alone.

So instead, we came at it through her beliefs and her morals. I taught her some tricks of body language, ways of walking and ways of moving. I taught her about the speed of her pace and how she should modulate that pace so that she could give the impression of being the most important person in the room.

We also spoke about a lot of things when it came to her own personal belie and moral systems. I staged debates with her and told her different ways that she might be able to approach certain situations. Certain ways that she could describe herself better and how she could surrender ground in order to take it up a little bit better further on down the line. I taught her about persuasive languages, the difference between open and closed questioning, the trick of being curious rather than leaping to conclusions. Above all, I taught her how to listen, just as Kerrass once taught me the same thing.

Sometimes I hate having these skills and this particular branch of knowledge. But I would also be lying if I tried to tell you that there weren’t occasions when I enjoy the fact that I have that knowledge and enjoy applying it in the real world. It also needs to be said that in this case, I was not directly using that knowledge for evil or sinister purposes. I was using it to help a friend and a lover get her point across.

It started to work, maybe a week into our living together. Chestnut-Shell came home after an afternoon doing whatever it was that she was doing away from Apple-Seed and me with a careful and precise walk. Her face was calm and her stance was placid. It had the shoulder’s back, chin up, an attitude of confidence that I was teaching to both women and calling them out on it whenever they dropped it, but other than that, there was no telling how she was doing.

I remember it clearly, she walked up the steps slowly and calmly. Apple-Seed and I were waiting for her as we knew that there was a big debate going on among the attendants about… something or other and we knew that Chestnut-Shell had not been looking forward to going.

So we watched as the tall dryad walked in, walked to the table and poured herself a long cup of water which she drained at a swallow before just as carefully placing the cup back down.

“Well?” Apple-Seed demanded.

“How did it go?” I asked. I had a pretty good idea but I could just as clearly see that Chestnut-Shell wanted to tell us at her own pace.

Chestnut-Shell walked back to the door to check down the path to our little house to see if anything was happening or if anyone was watching. There wasn’t but she moved into a quieter and more hidden part of the dwelling anyway before she drew herself up, looked at Apple-Seed and me before doing a little dance of victory.

Apple-Seed squeaked in delight and pounced on the taller woman as they both laughed. We were gracious in our victory and didn’t go to the communal dining area for dinner and Chestnut-Shell took it upon herself to demonstrate how grateful she was to Apple-Seed and I both.

And so life went on.

Kerrass came back three days after he had departed. He actually moved into one of our neighbouring cottages although he later told me that he barely spent any time in it. He claimed to have come to some kind of arrangement with the Blonde-Giant and the two would spend significant parts of time together. After that first night, Kerrass was walking around with a kind of gently bewildered look on his face and a slight limp. I was not surprised by that, given that Blonde Giant was easily a foot taller than Kerrass, the same amount wider than him and pound for pound, I would not be surprised if she could lift Kerrass up from the ground.

By one hand.

I asked him one morning while the girls were doing something else as to how he was enjoying himself and he told me that it was like being mugged in a dark alley by a Goddess.

Apple-Seed liked Kerrass a great deal, not least because he was spending so much time with her Aunt. There were comments made that I was not entirely sure that I wanted to hear about how her Aunt hadn’t looked that satisfied for years. Kerrass made a joke about being concerned about the height difference but Apple-Seed waved him off. “Do you judge me by my height?” She snorted. “Besides, as I have found recently, height doesn’t matter as much when you are both lying horizontally.”

Chestnut-Shell blushed furiously at that. She was less enamoured of Kerrass and struggled to trust him or get on with him. When I asked her why she couldn’t define it in any way that she was happy with. She just… was uncomfortable around him. He made an effort with her certainly. He cracked jokes and teased and listened to her speak. But they just couldn’t get on.

That was fine though, the Weapons-Mistress was also one of the dryads that monopolised his time. She used him as a training aid against some of the other dryads that were getting arrogant in their skills. As promised, he lived up to his reputation and it took three dryads to even get a touch on him. They even set up archers who shot at him with padded arrowheads in an effort to help them bring him down.

He didn’t lose. Not once. Not even when the Weapons-Mistress and the Blonde-Giant entered the fray. Apple-Seed and I watched from the surrounding ropes and formed our fairly solitary cheering section for The Witcher. I had arranged for Kerrass and Apple-Seed to have a lesson with each other so that Kerrass could give her some tips on how to improve her style and which might have been one of the reasons that she liked him so much.

There were protests of course. Women claimed that there was no way that Kerrass would survive like that in a real fight. They claimed that if a real arrow was fired at him, he would not have time to get out of the way. Insults flew and there was a moment where Kerrass visibly had enough. He told the offending dryads to fetch their bows and their spears.

Three of them did. The plan was clear, two archers and one spear to keep him tied up. Kerrass took up his own sword. I think Weapons-Mistress and Blonde-Giant saw what was going to happen and I was not surprised when I saw a younger student sprint off to fetch the healers.

It was a rout. Kerrass literally parried the first arrow with his sword, dodged the second, parried the third and attacked the spearwoman. I saw three moves before the spear broke and the dryad staggered back and fell with blood running from her face and a deep gash in her arm.

One of the two remaining archers dropped her bow and snatched up a spear to try and do… something. Kerrass simply swatted the spear out of her hand before he grabbed her and threw her at the remaining archer. Who shot her friend by accident. Not deeply or fatally but there was certainly a moment there where the arrow was embedded in the dryad’s back. Kerrass stepped over them and levelled his sword at the woman’s throat.

“And I used no magic.” He told her, not even breathing hard. “No potions or Witcher’s tricks. Just one sword and a man who knows how to use it.”

The woman slumped back in surrender.

Weapons-Mistress stepped forward and raised her voice while the healers went for the injured women.

“Stealth and trickery only work until we have nowhere to hide and nowhere to run to. I have told you all these many times but still, you insist on hiding behind it. One man took down three of you.”

“We took him down when they came here.” Someone protested.

Kerrass laughed at that. “Only because I let you.” He said. “I came to talk, not to fight. I did not expect dryads which was my mistake. I will not make that mistake again. I learn from my mistakes, should I survive them. But if you keep making the same mistakes…?” He shrugged.

He stalked off to pour a bucket of water over his head. I had to hide a grin as it was clear, at least to me, that he wasn’t that angry. Instead, he was making a show of exorcising that anger and forcing himself to cool off.

He joined us for a drink that first night of his return, the hunt had turned out to be to turf out a large Arachasae nest. And a nasty one too. He showed me the healing scars of venom burns on his skin. He and Apple-Seed compared notes and Kerrass took great delight in doing his very best to utterly embarrass me, telling various stories about our exploits and things. Especially the more embroidered stories about how awful I was with women.

Looking back now with the clarity of distance, I wonder if it was this that Chestnut-Shell didn’t like about him. She didn’t understand the type of friendship where you deliberately tease and mock each other as a sign of affection.

Ah well. Kerrass didn’t mind and Chestnut-Shell never complained. We just took some steps.

Of the two dryads, neither of them will read this and they both knew my opinions anyway as we made a point of hiding nothing from each other. But of the two, I found Apple-Seed the easiest to be around. But there was less of a spark of deeper emotion between us. We were attracted to each other certainly. I mean, in the face of that much woman in that small a shape, I don’t think that there was much I could do to avoid being attracted to her. She was kind, gentle and charming while also being utterly fierce and terrifying when her blood was up.

If I had met her when I was single and changed the context entirely, she would have been the kind of person that I would have met at the beginning of summer. We would have spent a good, fun and passionate few months with each other before both of us would have moved on to other partners or other things. There would have been little to no hard feelings between us and we would have been the kinds of friends where we would always be delighted to see each other and if neither of us had any other commitments, then we might indulge each other with a roll in the hay. She was a wonderful lady and I miss her presence in my life. I can only hope that I will see her again.

But Chestnut-Shell was another matter entirely. I cannot explain it properly, but she seemed to become more attractive to me over time. One of those things where her personality seemed to suffuse her appearance, especially as so much of that initial impression was based on a mask that she wore in order to hide her insecurities.

Given enough time, and without the influence of everything that was going on, and if Ariadne was not in the back of my mind at all times. I know myself well enough to be able to say that I could have fallen in love with Chestnut-Shell. She knows that too and when we talked about it, it nearly broke her heart.

She took it particularly hard that the only reason that the two of us were even remotely together was that I was being forced into that situation. Of the two, she was the second that I got pregnant…

Believe me, we will get to that.

… and that was at least partially because she was so much more reluctant to actually do the deed than Apple-Seed was. Apple-Seed was a woman of more passion, physical affection and spontaneity. So with the added enticement that was provided from the potions and medicines that we were both taking, she had no problem at all with grabbing me by the hand and leading me into the undergrowth to some private area that only she knew, or to the bedroom, or the balcony when it rained which it did often. She would seem to be overcome by the feeling and she would get this expression in her eyes and face which I came to long for and dread at the same time. She never forced the issue and with the extra chemical enticement, I was more than willing to reciprocate.

Chestnut-Shell was different. It took her time to work up the… ‘feeling’ I suppose is the right term. After the first night where the trio had explored each other and she had overcome her understandable and completely justifiable fear of any pain that might have been involved in the doing of the deed, she was not afraid of expressing her desires. But she just, wasn’t as highly into it as Apple-Seed seemed to be. She liked, long, slow encounters with a depth of feeling that I almost found frightening as it happened. She set great significance about certain things. She liked to love me at specific times of the day, with specific situations. It gave the lovemaking a kind of ritualistic quality that was kind of enticing but also a little frustrating. It made everything seem so serious rather than taking some time to enjoy the experience of being with each other.

After all, sex is funny. You just try and imagine the faces that your partner, the most beautiful and wonderful person in your world, pulls while at the height of passion and I guarantee that you will giggle at least a little bit.

My other source of frustration with that side of her experience was that it was clear that she and Apple-Seed didn’t share that particular nuance in their relationship. With Apple-Seed, Chestnut-Shell was not shy of telling her lover that she wanted something and that she wanted it NOW. Something that Apple-Seed was only too happy to oblige. The two did seem as though their emotional connection was growing. Something that I was extremely pleased about, I won’t lie.

But the thing that made me love Chestnut-Shell more was her mind. She forced me to come to terms with the fact that I am something of an intellectual snob. Right now, there are people reading this that are sniggering and laughing at me, saying things like “And he’s only just figuring it out now?” And that is fair. I would argue that Intelligence is not the same as Education and I would justify myself that I have known many farmers, villagers and beggars whose intellect would dwarf some of the minds that lecture at the University, including mine.

But I am attracted to intelligence. Kerrass chortled when I told him that as he pointed out my other proclivities. “Intelligence and a nice pair of legs Freddie, don’t forget how much you like a woman with long legs.”

“Apple-Seed is short.” I protested.

“Yes, but her legs are long and shapely for her frame. Don’t pretend that you don’t enjoy watching her walk through the woodland.”

His point was well made. But I look back at the women that I have known, and the women that I love and have loved. Intelligence is a common factor. It could even be said that the women I love are often more intelligent than me.

I know that Ariadne is definitely more intelligent than me. That’s what you get for marrying an immortal Vampire Sorceress though. Marion was the teacher and historian of her settlement and my first loves were women like Dr Shani, a doctor of medicine, and others who I’m not going to name.

Chestnut-Shell was one of these. We would spend hours talking, debating and thinking with each other. We walked for miles and miles around the village, in the walkways above the village which is where the settlement expanded. It was small in terms of the surface covered. But instead of spreading out like a human settlement would, they spread out and up into the treetops

.

We didn’t go too far up, where Chestnut-Shell was sure-footed and confident, I discovered a surprising fear of heights for which she teased me a little. I have stood on towers and church spires. I have climbed the towers of Novigrad and stood on the parapets of numerous castles including Kaer Trolde where I looked out over the harbour span at the roiling, storm-tossed waters below, and I was not afraid. But walking along a bridge made out of bits of rope and wood and suddenly I needed to seize hold of someone’s hand and had a death grip on the guiding rope.

I am not ashamed to say that there was one moment that positively unmanned me. I was climbing up to a higher level and my strength just gave out. I was halfway up a ladder that Chestnut-Shell had made look simple and suddenly, I couldn’t make my legs move anymore and my hands refused to relax in order to pull myself further up. I wasn’t tired, but I couldn’t move and I was getting more and more tired in my limbs. I had the most distinct impression that I was going to die there. After facing down dragons, Elder Vampires, unknowable beasts, ghost ships and Flame knows what else. I was going to fall from a nice and sturdy rope ladder while among friends.

At the end that was the thought that got me moving again, but I had to stop and have a rest while Chestnut-Shell laughed at me for a solid five minutes after that.

I mean, she apologised later but still…

But she taught me so much during the time we spent together and I had so many opportunities to pick her mind on this topic or that topic.

She told me that the dryads technology base was mostly derived from Alchemy. There are plants and things that they have discovered alchemical uses for that our scientists can barely even dream about. The lights that they used were not using fire because… you know… fire in a settlement made almost entirely out of wood. But instead, they had discovered a distillate of certain leaves, when mixed with a certain mineral and then combined with other rocks would provide light. A similar Alchemical reaction would provide heat enough to cook with. This, with the healing skills and abilities of this and that as well as the fertility treatments. I suggested that the dryads had more than enough to offer the outside world if and when it came to matters of trade.

I asked her how her people would feel if I arranged for some contact to happen between the Dryads of Brokilon and the dryads of the Black Forest. She was tentative with that. She was concerned that her side would see the other as “not being real dryads” on the grounds that they were created by another matter rather than the patronage of the Schattenmann himself. And she was afraid that this would also be true the other way round.

She might not be wrong in that.

When I asked her about contact with the outside world, an annexation agreement that the Empire has with places like Toussaint, Dol Blathanna and the Brokilon dryads themselves. She was a little bit more open to that but she didn’t see how that would work with the exchange of troops, trade or things of that nature. She was confident that all her people would want was to be left alone with the occasional chance to take on mates in order to continue to propagate their species.

They would also want certain protections in order to ensure that the dryads would not be persecuted. Chestnut-Shell was of the opinion that for the dryads to continue to grow and escape the shame of what they did to people like me, they needed to approach their prospective mates on an equal footing.

“There needs to be give and take, and if necessary, romance involved.” She said. “We can’t just take what we need, we need to interact. We need to be part of the world, not cut ourselves off from it. But we also need to be protected so that when we follow our needs or desires to procreate, we wouldn’t be persecuted for pursuing exactly that.”

This, fortunately, led me to a conversation that I had been longing to have which was regarding the mating habits of the dryads and therefore the history of them. In return, I got this lecture which I have cut down and occasionally annotated for ease of reading.

We have forgotten a lot about our history of what happened before we came to that place that you call the Black Forest. For your information, we call it “the Forest of Shadows” or near enough to that to make it… neither here nor there.

We know that we came from the North originally and that we travelled a long way to get here. We were driven south by some kind of unknown enemy and catastrophe. Given what we know about the way we work, I wonder if someone amongst the elves were upset that their males preferred to mate with us rather than with them. But that is something that we are never likely to find out.

But there was some kind of cataclysm and we fled south. After much hardship, horror, adventure and great heroism we came to the Black Forest. Some people say that we were called here but I am not capable of saying whether that is true or not. It is certainly possible and I, for one, believe it. The Schattenmann was in need of followers, guards and servants although calling us servants is to cheapen what we do for him and what he does for us.

We also know about how our ways have changed, about how we have grown and… matured as a race since then.

Where do we come from originally? I have no idea. We have spoken to the relatively few scholars that have come through our woods since then and it seems most likely that we came from one of the other spheres. It is highly unlikely that we evolved into being on this world.

I am just checking, you do know about evolution? Good.

We know that we can mate with elven and human males although when we were still in the north, we were almost exclusively mating with elven males. We don’t know why.

What were we before? That is where we start getting into the theoretical side of things. We can make some pretty firm and realistic guesses about where we find ourselves now. For example.

We can be as confident as we can be that there has never been any such thing as male dryads. That is because, no matter how often we breed with other people, there has never been a male dryad produced. If there WAS a possibility for male dryads to be a thing, then surely we would have met one by now. I do not believe the theory that it is precisely our method of reproducing that guarantees this.

I also don’t believe the thing that… Ok. Did you know that plants have genders? And did you know that there are animals and plants that can have multiple genders and can, indeed, switch genders should the need arise? Some have suggested that, due to our links to the natural world, we might be able to do this as well. I do not believe that. There have been other times when there have been no men available and that our numbers have dwindled. If we could spontaneously switch genders in order to further our species and ensure our survival then it would follow that that would have already happened.

It has not.

I believe, and so do a lot of people, that wherever it was that we came from, we had a partner race, a partner people that we lived in symbiosis with. What those people were, I do not know but the chances were good that they were elven or human in nature. And to be clear, we do not know whether we can mate with dwarves, halflings or gnomes, it has just never come up. Although we do know that we could never mate with the vran. Their blood is too cold to work with ours.

So we came to this sphere by way of… wherever only without our partner races. We adapted to life on this sphere and then something happened that drove us south. As I say, we have no idea what that thing was. Of course, there are always theories.

I don’t really enjoy speculating on…

Ok. Seeing as how it’s you asking.

The most likely scenario is that we were driven out. We know that this was long before the humans properly established themselves in that part of the world… and to be clear, as you have already discovered, your names and boundaries of modern society and civilisation mean nothing to us. We have no idea how far north we came from or what we were doing there. All we know is that we came from the North and that this was long before humans came.

I believe… Ok… Have I talked about our evolution yet? As a species I mean. No? That was careless of me.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

We know that when we were living in the North, we lived relatively idyllic lives. There are stories along the lines of ‘We could fire a bow straight up into the air and guarantee that it would strike some game when it came back down to the ground. A fisherwoman only had to cast her line and the fish would gladly leap into our nets and baskets.’ I mean it’s poetry but at the same time, it probably holds a certain amount of truth.

And we know, that the way that we propagated our species was by tempting male elves from their paths to lie with us. Yes, I know that there were other humans in the North and that they died out but that’s not what the stories tell us.

There were elves, and those elves were drawn to beauty and grace. So those women that were the most successful in being able to secure themselves lovers and Father’s for their daughters, were the most beautiful, the most graceful and so on. So we were literally bred for beauty and grace.

We also like sex. There is something in us that likes that kind of encounter. It is a driving instinctual thing to seduce, use, take our pleasure from the male and then move on. Romantic entanglements were not unheard of, but as they almost always ended in tragedy for both partners, they were kind of… frowned upon. A dryad was breaking tradition if they chose to do something as foolish as fall in love with an Elf.

So we know that our sex drive is higher than your average sentient being.

We also know that we give off certain chemical pheromones that, if we’re not careful and if the male is not strong-willed enough, can overwhelm them. Some of the medicines that we have both been taking in order to aid that side of our relationship are derived from these pheromones.

And again, the more powerful the pheromones in the woman, the more likely they were to be able to get their man. So we were literally breeding ourselves to be beautiful, graceful, sexual creatures before whom, no man could reasonably expect to restrain themselves.

And we became arrogant with that, we started to believe that our attentions were a privilege that no man should have the right to turn away or turn down. We literally did not see that what we were doing was a crime because we were deigning to grace these men with our presence. How dare they be offended or be ungrateful. Can they not see how beautiful and wonderful and… but that’s a different tangent for a different day.

So my hypothesis is that a dryad sister met, seduced, mated with and possibly although not definitely, fell in love with some elven male. Probably a married elven male.

Now other than some of our earliest stories, which do not paint elves in a very flattering light, by the way, we know nothing about elves. But my theory… I say ‘my’ as though I made it up. I didn’t, it is not a new theory it is just the one that I agree with. I think that elven society at the time was relatively matriarchal or had a certain matriarchal element to it. I believe that some dryad seduced an elf and then his wife, mistress or lover took offence to this and declared dryads to be anathema and thus we were hunted and driven from our homes.

Now there are other possibilities of course. There could have been a plague, famine, or some kind of ecological disaster. We might have been responding to the fact that a Dragon decided that it liked the flavour to be found in dryad bones and as such, our best way forward was to flee.

But I think that it’s most likely that we were driven out by some enemy and it is most likely that that enemy was elven in nature.

I cannot deny the enticement of thinking that there are some long lost cousins of ours in the Brokilon forest. I am hopeful that you will be able to arrange some kind of contact between them and ourselves. It would be nice to know that we are not the only dryads in the world. I am just concerned about how our interactions will go.

So we came south. The early parts of our settling in the black forest are covered in… no, not in mystery. I was going to say that they were covered in poetry and that there is, therefore, no reason to believe that any of it is true. You kind of have to take it all together and look at the stuff that all of the poems and myths have in common and then distil that through a heavy filter of cynicism and… Ah yes, I thought that you would know the process.

But it seems clear that the further south that we came, our leaders started to have dreams about a dark man, a shape made entirely of shadows that could not be seen, could not be touched and that it moved independently of the Sun or the light source. There was another splintering then, although many of those that chose not to believe in these… dreams, visions or whatever you want to call them, came to the Black Forest in the end.

Most of us came here and took up residence. There is even more poetry about the first meetings between the dryads, the Schattenmann and the Black Forest in general. Most of it reads like bullshit to me. We came here and we reached an agreement with the Schattenmann that we would live here, protect his “seat” which we call the heart of the forest and that he would, in turn, protect us from more… spiritual and magical enemies. He provided us with food to eat, mates to replenish our numbers. He provided us with laws to govern our behaviours which range from the obvious things of not setting fire to the forest and not killing each other, all the way through to the more obscure things like which springs of water we were allowed to drink from and which ones we were to consider as poison.

In our records. This was the first time that we encountered human males. We found humans to be more virile and fertile than elves. The hunt or the chase didn’t have to be as long as it did with elves. According to the records, an elf needed to be seduced and drawn from the safety of his dwelling or his… place. But humans had far less self-control. I have since, of course, learned that this is not the case. If anything, humans have, or have access to, much more self-control than elves, they just… don’t seem to exercise it as much as elves do.

I think it’s one of those things that comes down to how relatively short-lived humans are. It forces you to live in the moment more than elves, or even we do. You see a beautiful woman that plainly and obviously wants you… because we do, that’s an important distinction to drive home. We do want you, we always want you, it’s a matter for our own self-control that keeps us all from stripping naked and running through the local villages to have our way with the men there.

It’s an important thing to remember that we are not human. No more than a Vampire or a Succubus is. We are not human, we might have been human and we might have been changed by magic, but we are still not human.

Somewhere, somehow, someone needs to examine if there is some kind of common ancestry to all these human-like species. That would be an interesting little endeavour.

So we met humanity and we saw that it was good. We took up our old roles as woodland spirits that tempted men from the path in order to come and lie with us so that we could have children. It might even be said that we were even harsher then than we are now. It used to be that we would tempt the humans into the trees to have our way with them and then kill them in order to protect the secret of who and where we were.

The Schattenmann didn’t like that.

No, we didn’t need to do that with the elves. It might even have been that we started that practice with the humans, precisely because of the problems with the elves. Another theory as to the ‘how’ of why we were driven out is because we were not as careful with that secret. And we over-corrected matters. But the Schattenmann declared that this was against his law. I think he was offended that he had led those humans here for our use and then we killed them for it. So he demanded that the men that come to us be taken before him so that he can judge them.

What happens then? Some few are still killed, some, most even, are released with their memories of this place wiped clean from their minds and some…. Something else happens to them.

And that has been our life ever since.

No matter how hard I tried, I could not get her to tell me what it was that happened to those other men. I did manage to get her to tell me a bit more about what happens to those people that have their memories erased though. I had a vision of people leaving the Black Forest, forgetting their time inside the Black Forest but still remembering why they wanted to go to the Black Forest in the first place and then going back anyway.

“That just doesn’t really seem to come up.” She told me as we walked, hand in hand, around the edge of the settlement. Chestnut-Shell very much seemed to be more at home around the edges of things. She reminded me of a scientist that spends all of their life observing the world from a distance.

“We occasionally get reports from some of our scouts who have seen men that have come into the forest for… whatever purpose and they seem to be… more afraid of the Schattenmann and the heart of the forest than they had appeared to be when they first arrived here. So I can’t answer for that.”

“So what’s the difference between those people that have died and those people that have survived? When they leave here I mean.”

“Preying on your mind a little?” She teased.

“Fucking right,” I snapped, “and that isn’t funny.”

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.” She sighed unhappily and put her hand to her forehead as she thought. “It’s not something that I have thought of before. All I can say is that to my mind, those men that continue into the heart of the Forest for judgement seem to get what’s coming to them. Speaking personally, I don’t think that you have anything to worry about. You have treated Apple-Seed and I gently, you have acted with respect and nobility in every way and I may say that you haven’t been too aggressive in those parts of our culture and society that you really disapprove of.

“Your friend Kerrass will also, I am confident, be allowed to move on. He has acted as he should and there has seemed to be an understanding between the Schattenmann and Witchers. I don’t know what it is but it is there. The last Witcher to visit did so long before I was born but the only Witchers that don’t make it to see the heart of the Forest are those that are killed in the outskirts.”

She looked as though she realised that she had made a mistake for a moment there. She had, but I decided not to pursue it at that time, the earlier joke about my pending moving on to yet another possible death had upset me a little and I wanted to be clear-minded when I pursued that line of questions.

“What about Stefan?” I wondered instead.

“He is afraid. We… have a difference in moral standpoint, he and the rest of us, and he clings to his morals which suggests that he is a man of some integrity at the least. He holds to his code of behaviour where it would be easy for him to go against that if he so chose. But we also do not entirely understand his reasons for being here. If he means harm to the Schattenmann and to the Black Forest as a whole, then I cannot answer for what will happen.

“I should also say that there is no cut and dried answer. Those that are wiped of memories are changed on some levels. Some of them seem to have pleasant feelings about what happened here. As though they were in some kind of pleasant dreamscape. They lose the time and don’t feel the need to come back and walk away with pleasant, slightly erotic dreams. What the difference is between those men and those that walk away and suffer nightmares for the rest of their lives, I couldn’t tell you.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you might think,” I told her. “What’s it like, the heart of the forest?”

She went still and thoughtful.

“It is hard to describe without actually taking you there and I will not do that until there gets to be no other choice. There is no easy way of saying it other than to say that that is where the monsters live. Yes, Arachas and things that occasionally escape and we have to send hunters to go and kill them, or if we are lucky enough to have a Witcher staying with us then we do it that way as well. But also…”

She took another breath.

“Nature is not just about trees and leaves and growing plants. Butterflies fluttering around flowers and birds singing in the trees. Nature is also about the violence of the storm. Trees rot and fall apart. Animals are violent and will defend their home to the bitter end. Rabbits are torn about by wolves and foxes. Bears can change from being passive eaters of honey and fishers of salmon to being slathering beasts that will tear people apart.

“That is the nature of the heart of the Forest. When you go, you will be escorted by some of our finest warriors and scouts as well as some of our most powerful and experienced attendants. And you will be given your weapons and expected to use them. What’s it like down there?”

She shuddered.

“I can say nothing else other than pointing out the fact that there is a reason that we live out here, on the edge of that part of the forest, rather than deeper down, where the Schattenmann lives.”

I absorbed that in silence for a moment. The implication was clear.

“What is the Schattenmann?” I said, “Who is he, or where does he come from?”

She smiled. “I do not know Freddie, no one does or if they do, then I expect that you might find out before I do. The closest thing I can say is that he behaves very much like what you would call a Leshen or a Spriggan. But if he is one of those, then he is by far the most powerful woodland spirit that I have ever heard of and the study of woodland spirits like Leshen, Spriggans and Godlings and the like, is part of what makes me an attendant. His powers seem to work similarly but are amplified to an excessive degree. He seems calmer than most leshen, less angry and foreboding. He can be cruel, but not needlessly, nor without reason. He is… simply the Schattenmann. He rules over us, his Forest and his territory. He counts as his subjects dryads, humans, some elves and even dwarves. As far as I know, there are no dwarven or gnomic tunnels under the Black Forest, but I see no reason that he would confine his rule to what happens above ground.

“What were the other questions? Ah yes.

“Who is he? He is the Schattenmann. The Man of Shadows. He is the thing that people use to scare their children into going to sleep at night. He is God, monster, man, protector, tyrant, all of these things. I do not have a better answer for you there. As for where does he come from? Some among my sisters would answer simply and say that he has always been here and maybe that is true. I do not know. As long as this has been a place, he has always been here. I don’t know. But some of the more… progressive…”

“Radical?” I suggested.

“Yes, that’s a good word. radical. Those of us that have more radical thoughts have a different idea.

“If I told you about a ‘crater’ do you know what that is?”

“Yes.” I replied. “It is the distortion of ground that is made when the ground is struck by something heavy or powerful. It’s what happens when siege engines fire big rocks or more commonly, it is associated with rocks, meteorites, falling from the sky. One of Kerrass’ swords is smelted from material using that kind of metal.”

Chestnut-Shell nodded at that.

“The heart of the forest is situated in the centre of a huge circular ridge. You will have noticed yourself climbing up a hill before you came down and into the village.”

“I remember.”

“I would need to do some mathematics and some science on that kind of thing before I could comment on it all, but I am pretty sure that, within an acceptable nature of things, that circle is pretty uniform. And at the centre of that circle is the Heart Tree. That’s not the same as our heart tree, the one that you saw the other day when Yew-Branch was changed but we think that our tree is a fruit of that first tree.

“When you see it, it will boggle your mind. It will be inconceivable to you that something quite that huge could exist, let alone thrive in an atmosphere such as this one. And it is from this tree that the Schattenmann emerges.”

“You think he came from the stars.”

“Yes, yes I do. If I take it further and when I am feeling even more radical, and or drunk, I would go so far as to suggest, that he fell to the ground all those centuries, even thousands of years ago and that that tree, bigger, broader and stronger than any tree that I or anyone that I’ve ever come across has heard of, was the first tree from which all others have sprouted. Even I think I might be taking that too far though.

“And the truth is that we just don’t know. It is even possible that the Schattenmann himself doesn’t know the real answer to that question. Was he alive before? was he born? He seems so involved with nature that it seems impossible that he isn’t a part of nature, but life is created from two separate things coming together in order to create more life. It’s how we avoid mutations and how we adapt to certain things. There are flaws with that system which can be seen in our having bred ourselves into being pretty, beautiful, sexual creatures that set status according to who can spit out the most children. Even plants have parents.”

I saw where she was going with it.

“So if all living things have parents, who would be the parents of someone, or something, like the Schattenmann? The most disturbing form, ever, of the chicken and the egg debate.”

Chestnut-Shell nodded.

She was right. That was a thought that was going to make me suffer some nights.

I decided it was time to return to one of the earlier points.

“I have to ask a question,” I said. “And it is not a nice question and you will possibly make me angry in telling me the answer. But I do want an answer. Are you ready?”

She looked at me curiously.

“Going back to your previous point,” I began. “About who gets to live and who gets to die. What is the difference between those men that are allowed to come to the village of the dryads and those people that are killed in the forest before they can get here?”

She took it fairly well to be honest.

“The most common answer is if they have done harm, either to us or to any of the other villagers that live in the Black Forest. There are plenty of them, but if they have hurt or killed another dryad because that does happen occasionally, or if they have abused the villagers on the outskirts of the Schattenman’s realm. Then they are not allowed to survive. We have to be ruthless there. If even one of them escapes then that could be the end of our way of life. But also it is punishment for them harming the people that surround us. The people that, after all, are the fathers of our children.”

“When we came into the forest, it felt like we were being warned off. Was that you?”

“Yes. Figuratively speaking of course. I had no idea that the forest had visitors until you were brought into the village. Those warnings tend to work against those people that are more superstitious or nervous. Apple-Seed will be able to tell you more, but those people who would have fled in advance would have already gone. That fear is more used as a weapon to split up the groups and the parties so that they can be picked off easier.”

I nodded. I was nearly at the question that I wanted to ask and there was nothing left to do now other than to take the plunge.

“When you lined us up, on our knees. When you had taken us prisoners and Flax-Seed went down the line, why did she have someone killed? Why did she have Henrik killed?”

Chestnut-Shell opened her mouth to speak.

“And before you start.” I interrupted. “Don’t tell me that he was old, or dried up, or otherwise incapable of fathering children. You have medicines here that are capable of miracles. If I had to make some guesses, I would say that Yew-Branch, Trayka as was, has been pregnant before and has had those children aborted before. I know that that can damage her womb if done badly so you can heal that, but you can’t heal the men? I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I entirely believe that.

“And even if you can’t do that, which means that you have chosen not to do that by the way, then you gave Kerrass a task to perform in order to allow him to live. Why not give a task to those men that are infertile so that they may be allowed to live. What possible purpose did that… good man’s death serve.” The outrage that I hadn’t permitted myself to feel up until that moment welled up.

Chestnut-Shell’s face was still. But not still enough. I knew this woman now and I had taught her how to hide her emotion. She was not that good at it yet. She had hoped that I wouldn’t ask questions about those men that do not survive the movements between the edge of the forest and getting to the dryad village. And she had hoped that I would accept the answer about Henrik being infertile.

“There is always one in the party that is killed.” She said. “There is always one. Flax-Seed claims that she tries to choose those men that are already sick, or towards the end of their lives anyway. And I have no reason to suspect otherwise, but they always kill one.”

I nodded. “An example,” I said, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. “A warning.”

“Yes.”

I took a deep breath. “You were frightening us by the brutal killing of one of our members. Forcing me to sleep with you, forcing Trayka to accept the change that you forced upon her and forcing Kerrass to help you with your monster trouble to avoid another of us getting killed.”

“Yes.” She had the impression of someone forcing herself to speak.

I scratched my head. “I can understand that you need to defend yourself from outsiders. I can. I can understand the argument that people might make about not allowing yourselves to go into the outside world. I have seen what happens to non-humans in the greater world when humanity gets its back up. But what happened in that clearing? You murdered Henrik.”

“Yes… I will not try and shirk the argument. I am complicit in the murder of that man, as much as the guard that wielded the weapon, or Flax-Seed that gave the order.”

I nodded.

“I would like to be left alone now,” I told her.

“I wish I could.” She told me, “but the rules say that you are not allowed to go unaccompanied.” Her voice cracked a little at the end.

“Then take me back to the house,” I told her. “I find that I don’t want to look at you at the moment.”

She did as she was told.

That was maybe, day four out of the fourteen. I slept on one of the lounging chairs that night and I didn’t sleep well. Somewhere else in the house, I could hear someone weeping and someone else whispering. I felt awful but at the same time, I could not pull the memory of Trayka, as that was what she was still called when her father was killed, screaming out of my mind.

Eventually, I slept but I only know this because Apple-Seed shook me awake, looking unhappy.

“Chestnut-Shell wants to talk to you.” She told me, her face was still. Not angry, unhappy or anything else. She was just still.

I tried to see if I was still angry, it took me a moment or two to figure out what was going on, but I found that I was still angry.

“I am not ready to listen,” I said. A little bit more petulantly than I strictly meant it to be. I winced at my own tone of voice.

“I know.” Apple-Seed sighed. “I can see it in you, you are tense and… wound up. I hesitate to use this line in order to force the issue, but it does need to be forced. You need to do this because if you don’t, you will not survive.”

And there was the uncomfortable truth. I nodded and went to get up but Apple-Seed pushed me back down.

“We spent a lot of time talking last night,” Apple-Seed said. “She and I, I mean.”

I nodded.

“What she has to say is important.” Apple-Seed’s mask was back.

“You know what she is going to say?”

“I do.”

“Do you know why I’m angry?”

“Yes. You are angry with the casual way that your friend was killed. I do not blame you, I would be angry as well.”

“Then what could she possibly say that will make me less angry?”

“Nothing,” Apple-Seed told me. “If anything, what she has to say will make you angrier. Just… remember that it’s not her fault. Nor is it mine.”

“I know,” I told her. “But who else am I going to yell at?”

Apple-Seed did smile at that.

“I have some things to arrange,” She told me. “Chestnut-Shell is over on the balcony on the other side of the tree.”

“Are you not coming?”

I saw something in Apple-Seed’s eyes then, a sense of anger that I had cont comprehended before today. It was a new side to Apple-Seed that I had not seen before, I had seen her focus and I had seen her combat face and the battle mask that she wore when she fought. I had seen shyness and I had also seen her anger a the way people treated her or the way people treated Chestnut-Shell. But this was a deeper-seated rage that left me feeling… uncomfortable.

“No, I’m not coming.” She said. “I know what she’s going to say and she is making me… question things that I have not thought to question. I don’t like it and… if I’m honest. I find I’m a little angry too.”

I nodded and climbed back to my feet. Apple-Seed turned to go. “I’ve left you some breakfast on the table, if you can get some food into Chestnut-Shell I will be grateful.”

I nodded, so it was going to be one of those conversations.

I wandered through the kitchen and picked up the tray of small breakfast snacks that Apple-Seed habitually made for the three of us now, as well as the jug of herbal water that had been left out before going to find Chestnut-Shell.

I found her leaning against the balcony on the other side of the house, well away from where I had been sleeping. She didn’t look at me as I walked up and I groaned as inwardly as I could when I realised that I would need to do a lot of the work here.

I put the food and drink on one of the nearby tables and picked something that contained a kind of sausage.

“I have another lesson for you,” I said. “A friend of mine once taught me that if you are having an argument with someone, or if you have to tell them something that they do not want to hear. Then the first thing to do is to get them to sit down. Then, where possible, get them to eat something. It’s really hard to get angry at someone if you are sitting down and eating something.

Chestnut-Shell turned around and looked down at me. I was deliberately looking away as I poured us both something to drink, the trick was to make the first step a non-confrontation. She stood there for a moment and fidgeted before coming over and sitting down. She took one of the fruit-based things and nibbled at it before realising that she was hungry and wolfed it down.

I didn’t look at her until she had finished her second pastry and I had finished my third.

For a good looking woman, she looked awful.

“That is a useful lesson,” She told me gravely. “I will remember it.”

“Apple-Seed said that you wanted to see me?”

“Yes and no. No, because I would rather have you hate me less, but yes because I think you need to hear some of what I have to say.”

I carefully put my cup down and then pushed it out of reach. I am not normally one to throw things when I get angry but there’s always a first time.

“You are a chronicler,” She said. “And I want you to know these things.”

“Ok, do I need to fetch pen and paper.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“My memory can be a bit faulty, and from what I understand, the Schattenmann is not going to let me remember any of this.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” She said. “And there are times when it becomes clear that the Schattenmann knows exactly what he’s doing. It was commented on that he stood before you at the ritual the other day. I wonder if he means to let you go so that you can say what happened here and what is happening here.”

“So I should get my pen and paper.”

“I do not think you will need it. I think you will remember this. I think it’s time that I tell you why the other Attendants don’t like me very much.”

“You make them feel uncomfortable.”

“I do more than that. It’s because I disagree with almost everything they say and more. It’s because I articulate thoughts and feelings that they have never had and have never thought about. I don’t just think outside the box, I look at the box and declare it wrong.”

“Is this why Apple-Seed is upset as well?”

“Yes.” Chestnut-Shell cracked for a moment there. “Poor Apple-Seed.” She took a shuddering breath before continuing.

“At the root, their discomfort comes down to, where they all see a thriving, wonderful culture. I see a descent towards barbarism. Where they see necessary, pleasurable acts designed to propagate our species, I see rape, torture and murder. Where they see necessary laws to ensure our survival, I see the bars that keep us confined and limit us all. And where they look at the Schattenmann as a… a holy figure who has guarded us, still guards us and kept us safe for all of these years. I see a problematic figure who has allowed us to walk down this path.

“It would be very easy for me to blame everything that is wrong with our society on the Schattenmann and his influence, but the truth is that he is a remote figure, we actually have very little to do with him. We describe our laws as sacred, but the fact is that we are the ones that made those laws. The Schattenmann’s laws are things of territory and ritual, the stuff about…”

She shook her head before continuing.

“We could also blame the other people in the world, especially the men and women of the outskirts and the greater world who would see us, see this land and these trees as something to exploit.

“But the truth is that we made our bed and we force ourselves to lie down in it. And when I call all of this bullshit out, I get laughed at, at best, or vilified, bullied and beaten up at worst.”

Tears spilt down her face as she spoke.

“And the worst thing is that I can feel it. Even now I can feel it. I want to obey, I want to conform, I want to give in to that animal, instinctual nature of myself. I want to tear my own clothes off and then tear your clothes off and then have my way with you. But then I am no better than…” She shook her head in despair, “but I am here and you must make me pregnant or they will kill you and I have to let you do that in order to get to a point where I can try and make some real change and I look at you and I love you and I don’t know if that’s my choice, if it’s part of my nature as a dryad or if it’s the will of the Schattenmann or what’s going on.

“The same with Apple-Seed, I don’t know if I am growing close to her because it makes life easy for the both of us. Whether I’m doing it to make you feel more comfortable and aroused sexually for you to be able to perform. I don’t know if there’s real, honest to shadow desire, affection and love there. I don’t know… Shadow but poor Apple-Seed.”

I kept hold of my question in an effort to let Chestnut-Shell calm down a little before taking a deep breath.

“I take it that you’ve told Apple-Seed all of this?”

“I have.” She took a deep juddering breath. “She didn’t like it, but she worked really hard at trying to understand it from my point of view and I love her for that effort. I don’t know how well that went though. She is of the opinion and feeling that she doesn’t care what made her, and I, feel this way. But that the important thing is that we do feel that way.”

“There is wisdom in that,” I commented before I could stop myself.

“There is.” She said. “And also ignorance. It’s not her fault that she’s ignorant. But the fault of me and people like me. We are supposed to be the Attendants of the Schattenmann. We are the teachers of the dryads as we teach them what it means to serve him. We are supposed to be the philosophers and things as we guide the dryads to their higher levels of thinking and feeling. The teachers teach the basics of life. What is supposed to happen is that we grow, learn new things and our society is supposed to grow in the same way.

“But that’s not what happens here. We always need more fighters, more scouts and then they never have time for any kind of higher learning. So every decision is made regarding the defence of our bodies, but nothing is being done to defend our souls, our minds.”

She stared off into space for a moment, the very image of a woman reaching for the next thing to say.

“I just don’t think you know what it’s like to be a dryad,” she said after a moment. “And I can’t tell you because I’ve always been one. I know that the best death that I can hope for is that someone kills me, a human or that the Schattenmann calls me to some other purpose. Because otherwise, I shall grow old and I shall slowly, turn to wood and become just another tree in the Black Forest. I have years yet before that happens but I fear it, I dread it every day as I look for stiffness in my limbs and my fingers. I examine my thoughts to see if I’m slowing down or otherwise beginning to… lose myself. I have so much I need to do before that happens.

“I don’t know if there is a common frame of reference for you. I don’t know the difference of what it’s like between my sex drive and that of a human. I just don’t know. That’s where Apple-Seed has gone, by the way, to see if Yew-Branch, your former companion is ready to talk to you yet.”

I wanted to comment but something in the way that she was talking warned me not to. She took another opportunity to stare off into the distance.

“Several times now,” She began again. “I have begun to talk to you about the dryad’s descent into barbarism. I have made the comment and I have seen it in your eyes, the desire to ask the questions and to ump straight into it. But you have avoided it.”

“I have,” I admitted. “It hasn’t seemed like the right time, or it hasn’t seemed… I don’t know… polite.”

She smirked at that.

“Also,” I went on. “What do you mean by barbarism?”

“There are many levels to it.” She said. “There is a book in our library…”

“Wait,” I interrupted, unable to help myself. “You have a library?”

“Oh yes, I imagine it would not be very broad by your definition of the term. But at the same time, I imagine that what I mean by barbarism is the same thing that you mean by barbarism.”

“Explain it to me,” I told her. “Also…”

“No, you cannot have a look at the library.” She told me without missing a beat. She and I really did seem to have a similar way of thinking. “Explanations are difficult, what I can do though is demonstrate. What is my name?”

“You are Chestnut-Shell.”

“Yes, because you call me that, you know it. But think, when was the last time that Apple-Seed called me by my name? Now for a slightly more difficult question. What is your former companion… Trayka, what is her new dryad name?”

“Willow-Branch,” I said promptly.

“Incorrect.” She told me, surprisingly gently really. “Her name is Yew-Branch and if you think about it, there is a reason for that, she is an archer and her bow is made, at least partially, from yew. Why do you think her name is Willow-Branch?”

I considered this for a moment, “I don’t know,” I answered after a moment’s thought.

“If I help you out a little. Willow-Branch is a member of the council. She has blonde hair and her chosen path on that council is to poke holes in everything. She is an older woman and when she came to us, she was a Sorceress and is unusually long-lived. She is bitter that she has lost a lot of her power and influence. She hides it well and she has worked on it over the years. But she still thinks that she should be the final authority on contact with the outside world.”

“Oh,”

“Now, I would make a wager with you, that now that you have realised which one Willow-Branch is, you identify her by her characteristics don’t you.”

I shrugged and nodded.

“What do you call her?”

“Blonde-and-Bitter,” I admitted.

“Now, does she remind you of your former companion in any way?”

It took a moment, but she did. Trayka as was had been a bitter, angry woman. I knew why she was that way but that didn’t change the fact that she was a bitter and angry woman.

Chestnut-Shell saw the answer on my face.

“Now let’s ask another. What is the name of the tall, muscled, blonde woman that you fought and defeated much to everyone’s astonishment? Apple-Seed’s Aunt?”

“Oooh, I remember that one. It was Sun-Flower.”

Chestnut-Shell frowned. “Why do you remember that one?”

“It’s because it seems so ridiculous to me. That giant of a woman that contains such levels of violence is named for the first flower that I ever learnt to draw.”

Chestnut-Shell nodded. “Then what is the name of the weapons-mistress?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“The name of the woman that runs the communal eating and drinking area?”

I shook my head.

“How do you think of the auburn-haired woman that runs our breeding program? Something to do with her hair colour? Do not be concerned, I am not angry with you.”

I said nothing, what was there to say?

“But that’s my point. You have the excuse that you have been introduced to so many new women in the last few days and keeping us all in your head is difficult. But to us… We don’t call each other by name. We call each other by a job title or a basic descriptor. We shout ‘you, scout’ and even worse than that, the dryad in question knows exactly who we’re talking about. We call for healers. We shout for a craftswoman, attendants and teachers. There are relatively few people in our culture and we call each other roughly the same thing. We name each other after bits of trees and plants and then we forget those names, reducing people to what they do.

“There is more to it. Reading and writing are required skills from birth. But we stop using that skill at about the age of eleven. The only people that see it as a more important skill are teachers and attendants. For most, it’s a dead skill, something that they haven’t practised at all. Of our ruling council, maybe half of them could actually read the records that are kept of every council meeting without having to sound out the words first or asking someone what this word or that word means.”

“There is such a thing as an aural society.” I pointed out. “Not all societies value the ability to read and write.”

“No, I know. We have had people from Skellige come here before.”

“You know about Skellige, but you don’t know where Redania is.”

“We know the names, but not the geography.” She argued. “And that is a cultural choice, they have people that keep the knowledge, methods to do it and they practise. We are supposed to be a society of learning. We are supposed to be able to read, write, discuss and argue. But we don’t. That’s the point. You will never see a dryad reading a book. We have plenty to go around and they are not hard to get hold of. Not really. Instead, we sing, dance, work on small utility projects like fletching an arrow, plaiting a bow-string or re-seating a spearhead. Or we have sex because we are sexual creatures and recreational sex is part of what we have made ourselves.

“There are other things as well. If you walked through our settlement. You know where the communal eating area is, but could you tell me the difference between a dwelling house and a craftsman’s shop. Also, what is the difference between the weaver’s place the tanner’s?”

“I don’t know.”

“Of course, you don’t. I know because it’s been the same building since long before I was born. And when a building falls down or rots from the inside which does happen occasionally, we just get a new one and then everyone knows that as well. How do you know the difference in your cities and towns?”

“There are signs”

“Precisely. But we have no one to compete with.

“But that leads me onto my next pair of points because they do come in pairs. We’ll start with knowledge. You are right, we know nothing about the greater world. We know that we are in the greater Empire of Nilfgaard but what does that mean? Where are we? What is the political situation? Some people, including Willow-Branch…”

She saw my look of confusion, gave a tiny little micro-sigh “I mean Blonde-And-Bitter. She would argue that we don’t need to know about the greater political or geographical situation. I would argue that the politics of the situation and knowledge about the outside world could tell us whether we should expect an invading army. But she won’t have it. She says that all we need to do is to serve the Schattenmann and protect our borders.

“But what else are we missing out on. You bring word about the fact that there are other dryads out there. And if there is one set of other dryads then maybe there are more. We don’t know? Should we come together? Try and make contact? Are our methods about making bows the best form of bow-making. I have heard about cross-bows would they be more efficient or less? Our fletchers spend all their time turning out arrows because the ones we use break three times out of five when they are used. Could we make more durable spears? Are there other things we could be doing with the herbs and berries that we find?

“We are advanced in our methods of wood treatment and medicine. We can heal most wounds and we have the benefit of good health and freedom from disease. We are also experts in fertility medicine. But could we not do anything else? Just because we are immune to all of the local diseases does that mean that we are free from all diseases?”

She shrugged. “We don’t know. We just don’t know and even worse than the ignorance, is the fact that we have little to no… we don’t care about the fact that we’re ignorant.

“We don’t have any contact with the outside world. We have no one to compete with, nothing to drive our innovations. Nothing to inspire us.

“I can give you another example. Even as we speak, Apple-Seed is out there somewhere. I would bet you money that at least two people have insulted her and one of them has spat at her. Why? Because she dared to suggest that there was another way to fight. She didn’t say that the old way was inferior, she didn’t say that everyone should use the new method of fighting. She just knew that the old way didn’t work for her so she came up with a new way to do it. And for that, she is being vilified for it. For suggesting something new.

“The second point is culture. We are not inspired. You heard the music and the songs?”

I nodded.

“They are the same songs and music that have been played… probably for centuries and if someone ever tried to write a new song, I have little doubt that that musician would be treated the same way that Apple-Seed is being treated. The rugs that we use to cover the floor are the same shape and size. Patterns are the same that have always been used. There is no art, no poetry… I honestly couldn’t really tell you what poetry is. And I hate that. It sounds so wonderful.”

She took another deep breath.

“I have another example and this one will embarrass you. You and Apple-Seed are my first lovers. And in both cases, you have surpassed my wildest imaginations. Why? Because neither of you just pound away at me. I spoke with Apple-Seed about it and we have both been taught the same thing. It never occurred to either of us that there might be more to sex than just… pounding away. Most of the men that come through here do just that, they pound at the women that lay with them. But you use your mouth and your fingers and… well…”

Suddenly she looked embarrassed.

“I have never heard of anything like that. It’s wonderful but it has honestly never occurred to any of us to do anything other than the very basic of acts with and to each other. Meaning that they have missed out on all of this… wondrous…”

She petered out again, tears in the corners of her eyes.

“If it’s any consolation,” I told her. “Not many humans know about that kind of thing either.”

“How did you come across it?”

“I read a book on the subject,” I told her. And she laughed. “Not just that though,” I admitted. “I have been lucky enough to have had several very good teachers who were very patient with me.”

“As you have been with us.”

I took that quietly and tried to move the conversation elsewhere.

“So your argument is no culture, no knowledge and no… innovation.”

“Yes, but that’s not the worst of it?”

“What is?”

“We force ourselves on our captives.” She said. “And that would be bad enough, but we also force our captives on our women.”

I will not lie, at that little revelation, my brain shut down a little. I just stared at her with absolutely nothing to say. I mean, what can you say to that. She looked away from me for a moment while the tears stood in her eyes., then she blinked and wiped them away with the sleeve of her robe and looked back at me, she must have seen what I was thinking, even when I didn’t know what I was thinking.

“Oh, Freddie.” She said. “Not you, don’t think I blame you. You did what you have done because you had no choice and I think… I think you even did it out of love. I can see you now, I wasn’t there but I can still see it. You are desperate to survive. You want to get out of here and see the woman that you love again and who can blame you. She sounds amazing. But you were desperate to survive and suddenly the thought of being with some willing woman to ensure your own survival didn’t sound so bad. And then when your friend refused….”

She shook her head.

“You know, if he was refusing because he knew what we were doing to ourselves and to him, I would have more respect for him. But he didn’t, he refused because of some kind of misplaced sense of self-virtue. And he was happy that you were going to take that burden for him while condemning you for it. I know he’s your friend but that doesn’t sit right with me and I still haven’t quite been able to understand why.

“But you did it because you thought it was the best thing you could do to ensure that you would see your loved ones again and I can understand that and we forced you to that end. People will do anything, anything at all if it means their survival and you are no different for that.

“And don’t get me wrong either. I am overjoyed… Look at me, Freddie. Look at me and know that I am telling you the truth. I am overjoyed that I got to know you. I am overjoyed that I got to love you and that I will carry your daughter within me and that I will give birth to our daughter. I am ecstatic at that prospect. I am likewise overjoyed that I got to properly spend time with Apple-Seed. That woman is amazing and as well as meeting my own daughter, I can’t wait to meet her daughter and see the… hopeful… start of a new generation of women in our society.

“But that makes it worse. Do you see that that makes it worse?” Her voice developed a desperate, almost hysterical edge to it. “Why do I feel this way? Is it because I am a dryad and it’s in my nature to hunger for love, hunger for sex and hunger for a daughter. Or is that me? Is it part of my nature? I don’t know, I might never know.”

She put her head in her hands for a moment as she recovered her breathing.

“I meant what I said back when you were listening to us all debate.” She went on. “I had once sworn that I would never take a man to my bed. I was open to the prospect of taking another dryad to my bed, or possibly going to hers but the women that I spent time with repulsed me. But then I heard about you and I heard about the kind of man that your testing had proven you to be and suddenly… I had to know. I had to see if it would work. Is that me? Is that because I’m a dryad and the long-feared… biological element of the fact that I’m a dryad has kicked in? Or even more insidious, is this the Schattenmann’s influence coursing through my blood?

“I don’t know. I wonder if there are any answers to the questions that I ask. People hate me for asking these questions and people hate me for making these statements. I once swore that I would never do this. I promised myself and others that I would never be part of this whole… evil that we perpetuate on ourselves and others.”

She shook her head.