By the time the payment was settled, the sun had fully risen. For the four of them, a sleepless night was no great matter. Since they had missed their chance to rest, they simply decided to go without sleep.
At some point, Geralt had struck up a friendship with the elf whose roast meat he had stolen earlier, and they were playing Gwent beside the fire outside the reception hall. Old Graz, meanwhile, used the time they had left to continue recording the remaining elven documents in the ruins.
Witt sought out Miley for a private conversation. The female elf's generosity made him want to offer her a few "gifts" from the future as well.
"Miley, you're a kindhearted leader. In an age when humans and elves lived peacefully together, the name Miley of Brokilon, or Miley of the Blue Mountains, would surely resound across the continent." Under Miley's puzzled gaze, Witt spoke first.
"Thank you for your generous praise. I was merely given command in a crisis," Miley said modestly.
But Witt changed tack. "As things stand, though, you know without my telling you that the flames of war are about to be kindled. The Black Army is about to cross the Yaruga River, yet the northern kings are turning a blind eye. These are signs of danger, but this is no opportunity for the elves..."
"What are you trying to say?" Miley reached for the dagger at the back of her waist. She did not know what he meant, but had anyone else been speaking, she would certainly have shown no mercy!
Everyone on the northern continent now, including the kings and the sorcerers and mages who advised them, believed that the elves' reprisals targeted only Kaedwen and Aedirn, the two kingdoms that had once slaughtered nonhumans. Even ordinary elven warriors believed this.
Yet Miley, who had been personally summoned by Filavandrel, leader of the free elves of the Blue Mountains, after the previous captain's death, understood that they were actually working for the Nilfgaardian Empire, following its orders to harass the Northern Kingdoms and waiting for their chance to act.
Miley did not understand politics, but what she had heard from Filavandrel-the promise made personally by Nilfgaard's king-had moved her.
To let the elves have a country of their own again.
From that moment on, she had regarded it as a wish she would fulfill even at the cost of her life, and had fought tirelessly for it. She would allow no one to destroy that wish.
"Where did you learn this?" Miley's face was full of wariness.
Witt pondered for a moment, then said, "In a deep dream, boundless green waters surrounded me. There was someone whose face I couldn't make out, someone Eithné called the Lady. She told me all of this."
This was a moment when he had no choice but to lie. Apart from attributing everything he could not explain to Lady Destiny or prophecy, Witt truly did not know how to explain it.
"Is this... a prophecy?" Doubt rose in Miley's heart, but hearing Witt mention the dryad queen Eithné's name left her little choice but to believe him.
"Trust me, this is absolutely no opportunity for the elves. Even if Nilfgaard's emperor fulfills your long-cherished wish, the elves will only suffer greater harm." Witt's tone was utterly sincere.
"But..."
"Leaving aside the possibility that the emperor might break his promise, if he really does give the elves a country of their own again, where would that country be established?" Witt asked.
"I... I don't know." Miley shook her head. The elven girl understood none of these things.
"Then let me talk you through it. First, you and I both know this is a war the Northern Kingdoms are bound to lose. Constantly embroiled in disputes, the Northern Kingdoms are as scattered as loose sand. They have absolutely no chance of defeating the Nilfgaardian Empire, which is bringing the strength of an entire nation to bear in launching this war."
"That's right." Miley nodded. Filavandrel had told her this as well.
She knew the elves would not have many chances. Of the Northern Kingdoms, only Queen Meve of Lyria and Rivia had no harsh policies toward nonhumans. All the other countries regarded them as inferior races, manipulating and trampling them at will.
The powerful and relatively fair Nilfgaardian Empire was their only choice, and the elves could only help the war's victor.
Witt looked around and, finding nothing like paper or a pen, simply sat on the ground, drew his dagger, and scratched a shallow horizontal line into the floor.
"You!" Miley was somewhat angry.
These are precious elven ruins! Has no one ever told you not to scribble wherever you please?!
"This is the Yaruga River." He then drew a circle below and to the left of the thin line. "This is Cintra, the southernmost of the Northern Kingdoms."
Miley nodded.
"I don't know the Nilfgaardian emperor's exact plans, but I think his first objective is to seize this jewel among the Northern Kingdoms, Cintra. As for your role, aside from serving as ambushers to harass the other Northern Kingdoms when they come to Cintra's aid, you'll become cannon fodder after the peace talks that follow this war. You'll give the northern people an outlet for their anger while continuing to wear down their fighting strength, laying the groundwork for the Nilfgaardian emperor to launch a second war."
"But..." Miley wanted to argue, but did not know where to begin.
"But after the war, the elves will have their own country and stand as equals with humans again, is that it? You won't have to keep harassing the Northern Kingdoms for the Nilfgaardian emperor anymore, is that it?"
"Exactly." Witt had voiced precisely what Miley was thinking.
"You're too naive, Miley. You don't even know when the emperor will fulfill his promise!" Witt sighed and continued, "Before answering that question, let's settle the earlier one first. Where will the elven country be established?"
"I don't know."
Witt drew a cross below the horizontal line and said, "First, it can't be within the Nilfgaardian Empire. The empire may look like a monolith, but in reality, it's filled with nobles, and its vassal duchies each form their own factions. They maintain little more than military unity, and even that is thanks to the wise and discerning iron-fisted rule of the current emperor."
"So the emperor can't risk offending any duchy or noble by placing an elven country within his borders. Besides..."
Witt looked at the suffering elves around them and sighed. "No king would be entirely unafraid of the elves' strength."
"Second, the emperor won't simply hand over Cintra after conquering it." Witt drew another cross through the circle representing Cintra.
"Why is that?" Though Miley also knew it was impossible, she still wanted to ask.
"That brings us to the emperor's ultimate purpose in starting this war. His objective isn't as simple as expanding his territory. I believe he set his sights on unifying the entire continent from the very beginning." Drawing on what he knew from his previous life, Witt offered his conjecture.
"After occupying Cintra by force, the first thing the emperor will do is secure the legitimacy of his rule there, making himself one of the kings of the Northern Kingdoms as well and achieving his next strategic objective."
"So the elves can't establish a country in Cintra either."
Miley continued to nod, but her gaze grew graver.
"That being the case, the only remaining option is within the territory of the Northern Kingdoms. So where would be the most suitable and most likely place to establish an elven country?" Witt continued to guide her.
This time, he did not need to draw anything. Miley drew a circle herself above the right end of the horizontal line.
"The Valley of Flowers." Her tone held a measure of despair.
Within the territory of the Northern Kingdoms, there were only three places with the largest concentrations of nonhumans: the dryads' Brokilon-the Forest of Death; the mountain home of gnomes and dwarves-Mahakam; and Dol Blathanna, surrounded by Aedirn and Rivia, also known as the Valley of Flowers.
"Exactly. No different from things as they are now. Once you establish an elven kingdom in Dol Blathanna with the Nilfgaardian Empire's help, the elves will be bound completely to the empire, becoming its cannon fodder in the north, continually draining the strength of the kingdoms. Only when Nilfgaard's black sun flies in every corner of this continent will the elves' circumstances improve somewhat."
Witt paused, then spoke chilling words. "But when that time comes, will the empire let Dol Blathanna remain?"
"Damn the empire!" Miley suddenly drove her dagger into the ground below the horizontal line, at the spot representing the Nilfgaardian Empire. Endless fury surged in her chest.
"I'm going back to Dol Blathanna right now to warn Lady Francesca!" Miley, who had already intended to withdraw, now became firm in that resolve. She would tell Dol Blathanna's current leader, Francesca Findabair, who was "being kept in the dark," about the empire's scheme.
Seeing this, Witt shook his head with a bitter smile. The pure-blooded elven woman hailed as the most beautiful woman in the world, one of the most powerful and influential sorceresses, the elven sage Francesca Findabair, was naturally no fool. She understood full well the consequences all this would bring. She simply had no choice, and the elves would never have a better opportunity than this one.
Witt's purpose in analyzing all these stakes had merely been to get the hot-blooded female elf before him away from the storm and into hiding in Dol Blathanna.
Because in the near future, the emperor, Emhyr var Emreis, would "help" the elves establish their own country on the condition that the Scoia'tael continue harassing the north for the empire.
And to avoid becoming a common enemy of both the Nilfgaardian Empire and the Northern Kingdoms, Francesca would certainly agree to this condition, because it would also ease the Northern Kingdoms' hostility toward Dol Blathanna.
When that happened, the Scoia'tael would become a discarded pawn, left alone to face the northern people's blazing fury and abandonment by their own kin, homeless in the truest sense.