Three things are required for human life to be sustained – food, drink, and gossip. It is thus no wonder that no matter where I travel, be it ice-bound Poviss or ever green Toussaint, everyone asks me about the passions that bind Geralt the sorceress Yennefer of Vengerberg. As a man both cautious and discreet in nature, I refuse to betray their secrets – with one important exception. The history of their first encounter is so extraordinary, so romantic and moving, that it would be a veritable crime to hide its light under a bushel. Indeed, had I not witnessed these events personally, I would never believe that that [sic] was room in our grim and and dark world for such fantastic marvels.
It all began when Geralt and I were feeling a bit peckish and, unburdened by heavy coin purses, decided to fish our supper out of a lake. No bites were to be had, but we did not leave empty-handed – my hook snagged quite a lovely little pot. Oblivious to my friend's warnings, I opened it – and in doing so freed a powerful djinn.
Without giving it much thought I set about proclaiming my wishes. Before I could get to three, however, the djinn – irritated, I now see in hindsight, at being issued demands so soon after waking – started to throttle me. Geralt was able to drive him off, but I was left in a sorry state. I acted, the witcher told me later, as though under the influence of some curse. Clearly, the help of an expert in magic arcana would be needed.
It was our good fortune that Yennefer of Vengerberg happened to be staying in a nearby village. Geralt went to her to ask that she heal his best friend, who happened also to be the brightest star in the North's poetic firmament. Yennefer, however, was more interested in the djinn (which she wanted to trap into magic servitude) than in its victim, and, it should be said, played the witcher like a well-strong mandolin. Yet rather than grow angry at being used in such a calculating manner, he fell white head over muddy boots in love with her.
What happened then... well, I won't go into details, suffice to say that Yennefer's plans hardly delighted the djinn, and without its cooperation she proved unable to tame it. The sorceress would surely have met a tragic end – and taken all of Rinde along with her – had Geralt not rushed to her rescue. For once, he did not need to draw either of his blades: to send the djinn packing, he had but to pronounce his third and final wish. He could have asked for anything: wealth, fame, power... but instead he asked the djinn to bind his fate to that of the arrogant yet intriguing sorceress from Vengerberg.
Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount of Lettenhove, born 1232. Award-winning poet, playwright and troubadour. Frequent performer at the courts of Niedamir, Vizimir, Venzlav and many other nobles and notables. Alumnus of Oxenfurt Academy.
