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TWL Chapter 477: Through the Curtain of Dreams
🕑 Added 2025-07-05 03:29:58 +0000 UTCLann hadn’t been able to recall the precise location that connected to the Land of Aen Elle. With time, some of the finer details had grown
Lann hadn’t been able to recall the precise location that connected to the Land of Aen Elle. With time, some of the finer details had grown
Lann hadn’t been able to recall the precise location that connected to the Land of Aen Elle. With time, some of the finer details had grown
Lann hadn’t been able to recall the precise location that connected to the Land of Aen Elle. With time, some of the finer details had grown
Lann hadn’t been able to recall the precise location that connected to the Land of Aen Elle. With time, some of the finer details had grown
Lann hadn’t been able to recall the precise location that connected to the Land of Aen Elle. With time, some of the finer details had grown fuzzy.
But he knew there was someone who could help him remember—and that person was in Novigrad.
Novigrad was Chappelle’s stronghold, and by extension, it was essentially Lann’s territory too.
The problem was that Chappelle was currently in Tretogor, the capital of Redania. So Lann made a detour to see him first and obtained an insignia that would allow him to command the temple guards.
At this stage, Chappelle had not yet fully consolidated his control over Redania. His ties to Lann still needed to be kept somewhat discreet. Once the Cintra Conference concluded, everything would change.
With preparations complete, a flash of bright emerald light signaled Lann’s arrival on Temple Isle, the island housing the Great Temple of the Eternal Fire.
Before him was Chappelle’s bedroom.
Contrary to what outsiders might expect of a ruling official’s quarters, the space maintained only the proper dignity and refinement appropriate for a man in power. There were no gaudy ornaments or exaggerated displays of wealth—just understated elegance without waste.
But the moment Lann’s feet touched the floor, he sensed something was wrong.
“Who’s there? This is Chappelle’s room—wait, are you Duke Lannister?!”
There was someone else in the room?
As the effect of [Teleport] faded, Lann had already spotted the figure. He hadn’t had time yet to assess how this unexpected guest might interfere with his plans—
—when the stranger’s face began to melt like sludge, disintegrating before his eyes.
Not a human—but a doppler?
“Duke Lannister, it’s me—Dudu!”
Sensing Lann’s wariness, the sharp-sensed doppler instantly shifted from the form of an Eternal Fire guard to that of a short halfling, bouncing on his feet to prove his identity.
Lann immediately realized the truth. The only one who could appear in a doppler’s quarters with their trust… would be another doppler.
Back when he had helped Chappelle seize power, Novigrad had fallen into chaos under gang warfare. During that time, Lann had run into Dudu, the doppler who was helping the Fox Theatre Troupe.
Afterward, Lann chose to become the troupe’s sponsor, commissioning several operas centered around witchers.
Combined with Kiyan’s consistent work completing tasks in Novigrad, they had helped significantly shift public perception of witchers for the better.
“Duke Lannister, are you here to see Chappelle?”
Though Dudu wasn’t privy to every detail of the plan, he understood enough about the relationship between Lann and Chappelle. “He’s gone to Tretogor! He’s about to become the most powerful man in all of Redania!”
The doppler beamed with excitement—but then grew more cautious.
“Duke Lannister… We dopplers may have our gifts, but we’ve always lived in the shadows. We know that replacing the wrong kind of people can bring serious trouble.”
“Chappelle might look powerful now, but I’m really afraid he’s putting himself in danger… Duke, could you help him?”
Dudu, still in halfling form, pleaded with a pitiful look. Lann couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Don’t worry, Dudu. Every move Chappelle makes is under my command. With my protection, nothing will happen to him.”
Seeing the genuine relief and joy on the doppler’s face, Lann’s own smile deepened.
“I just came back from Tretogor, actually. I was planning to find a squad of temple guards to assist me, but having you here might be even better…”
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Lann nodded.
“You’ve spent a fair bit of time with Kiyan, right? He once said he found a [Oneiromancer] here in Novigrad. Do you know where I might find her?”
...
“Duke Lannister.”
The woman before him looked at Lann with a gaze that mixed reverence, delight, and a hint of awe the moment she laid eyes on him.
Kiyan had previously attempted to recruit her, but the reputation of the Cat School—even after some rehabilitation—remained… let’s just say, understood only by those in the know. He had once suggested Lann make a personal visit, but at the time, Lann had been tied up with other affairs and had to delay it.
Now that he had finally come, the result was immediate.
The woman’s enthusiasm was almost too much—Lann couldn’t help but be reminded of Rayla’s behavior around Geralt.
He glanced around casually, his gaze subtly taking in the layout of the Dream Seer’s chamber.
Under Chappelle’s rule, Novigrad had become extremely tolerant of both magic and non-human races. In such a thriving city, a Dream Seer could live like a fish in water, amassing incredible wealth with ease.
They were currently standing inside the best suite of the Golden Trout Tavern, the most luxurious inn in Novigrad. Word had it the Dream Seer had been renting this suite continuously for a year—what she’d spent could easily have bought a fine property near the main square.
No wonder Kiyan hadn’t been able to sway her at first.
“My apologies, milady,” Lann said with a polite smile. “As you can see, I’m Lann Lannister.”
“No, no, how could I possibly let you introduce yourself first?”
His self-introduction threw her off guard, and a blush quickly bloomed on her cheeks. She hurriedly lifted the hem of her skirt and bent into a formal curtsey.
“I’m Corinne Tilly, a Dream Seer.”
Lann couldn’t help but admire her quietly.
Like many sorceresses and magical practitioners, Corinne expressed her freedom as a woman of this era through distinctive clothing and bold presentation.
Her lower half was relatively restrained—she wore a high-waisted skirt in a shade of brown-green, with a bright green sash tied at her stomach in three butterfly knots. Fairly conventional.
But her upper half was… a different story.
Lann thought even calling that white fabric a 'vest' would be generous. Her neck, collarbones, and even her lower abdomen were fully exposed to the open air. The soft candlelight danced across two trembling, glistening curves that shimmered with an indecent sheen.
After bowing in this barely decent attire, Corinne politely pulled out a chair for Lann to sit.
Dudu sniffed, glanced at Corinne, then at Lann.
“Duke Lannister, I’ll wait outside for you.”
And with that, he zipped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him with a bang.
Everyone who sought out Corinne came for her dream readings—and despite her earlier dazed expression when she saw Lann’s face, she quickly recovered and shifted into full professional mode.
“So then, Duke Lannister, what kind of revelation are you hoping to find in your dreams?”
Lann gave a slight smile.
“Have you ever heard of the Wild Hunt?”
...
The doors and windows were securely locked, and the heavy curtains shut out all sunlight.
The luxurious suite was superbly soundproofed, and Corinne had also performed special preparations to ensure that nothing from the outside could disturb the two inside—nor could anything within be overheard by the outside world.
Even more candles were lit in the dim room, the flickering light casting a vaguely intimate atmosphere.
But the two people inside were completely serious.
“Duke Lannister, in a moment I’ll begin guiding you to establish a mental connection between us. I’ll be asking you a few questions about…” Corinne paused slightly, “...your connection to the Wild Hunt. Please answer honestly.”
“Then, you’ll need to drink an herbal concoction to help induce sleep. I assure you, it’s made only from calming herbs.”
Lann exhaled.
“It doesn’t matter even if they’re not calming. They won’t affect me. My body’s… unique. So go ahead and ask your questions directly.”
“Ah…”
Corinne’s lips parted slightly, and another blush rose to her face, though it wasn’t clear what she was imagining.
“Very well. First, I need you to tell me about your most intense, most vivid memory involving that… Wild Hunt individual.”
The room grew even darker. The freshly lit candles had burned down to a third of their length.
Corinne quietly listened to Lann recount his battle with the Wild Hunt, then drew in a long breath.
“Alright. Now, I need you to take hold of my sleeve. Keep talking about him—about your encounters. Try to picture his world, and the way you think one might reach it.”
Lann adjusted himself, laying back in a more comfortable position.
To his surprise, Corinne reached over to the side table and pulled out… a half-finished knitted sweater?
“Your mind is exceptionally powerful. From here on, I need you to completely relax your nerves.”
Her voice dropped lower, calming.
The atmosphere settled into silence. Corinne began knitting slowly and steadily, guiding the yarn as it twisted and intertwined in rhythm.
Lann listened to the crisp, wooden clack of the knitting needles, the steady pattern gradually syncing with his breath.
His thoughts began to drift—slowly, steadily expanding outward.
It was a mountain.
Nighttime.
Lann felt a faint sense of familiarity.
A cold portal opened mid-air, and a tall figure stepped through—clad in skeletal plate armor, wielding a massive warhammer and shield. Frost spilled outward with his arrival.
But he wasn’t here to kill.
He’d come to… attend a banquet?
This wasn’t Eredin. This was another unlucky member of the Wild Hunt—someone Lann had killed with the Sign back on the Thanedd Island .
Lann tried to squint, but he was inside his own dream. He had no body here—just a hazy field of vision, passively watching.
Fortunately, more useful information soon appeared.
Three slender, naked women stepped forward, wrapped only in burlap and leaves. They danced toward the newly arrived Wild Hunt warrior.
Their bodies swayed with a dazzling, primal rhythm. Their loose hair added to the raw beauty of their presence.
With every step they took, dark, rotting branches sprouted from the earth. Blood gushed from the broken soil in endless waves.
