The days passed after Morvran had ventured out to meet his battalion at the frontline. Those days had changed into weeks and the weeks into months. To think about the time that had already passed made you sad.

You had not seen him in almost two months. You missed his voice. There had been a pillow of his, that was still unwashed. You had stolen it from his chambers, to put it into your own bed. His smell made it easier to fall asleep at night, while wondering if he would ever return. The way he laughed followed you everywhere.

But the memories brought you no joy no more. Instead, they had trunks into pain and sorrow. Every time you were thinking too long about what could have been, the tears began to flow and covered your face until you were too tired to cry.

The days at the mansion had not changed a lot. You were still cleaning, doing most of the work and were cooking for all of the servants. Herman was still trying to teach you a thing or two, but his well-being had changed for the worse. His old age had caught up on him. He wasn't able to leave the bed no more. All that kept him alive was your cooking and the decent medical skills you had.

"(Y/N), child, come here.", Herman whispered, as he sat up his bed.

He was asking all over his body. Sitting was painful for him, you could see it in his eyes. But he refused to give up. It seemed that his will to live was stronger than the pain that chained him to his bed.

"What is it? Do you need more medicine?", worried, you put the tablet with cold food down and rushed to his side.

He had not eaten for the past few days. Maybe he did not had the strength to do so no more.

Grunting, Herman shook his head and tired to laugh. It was a short laugh, watery and painful to the ears. He was sick, even a dead person could have seen it.

"I've got something for you.", he said and reached into the pocket of his long nightgown. "Here. Take it and keep it safe. Protect it with your life if you must. Be a good child, and keep it form everyone's eyes. Even from the other people here. You hear me? Don't give it away, ever."

With his last strength, he pressed something into your hands and covered them with yours. It felt cold, like polished stone or glass. He shape was round, but it wasn't a ball. Instead, it felt like a thin piece of glass that had been shaped into a flat circle.

"What is that?", you asked and wanted to take a look at it.

But Herman tightly pressed your hands together.

"It will call you when it's time. For now, keep it hidden and don't mention it. You don't need to look at it now, it will seem unimportant and you won't want it then. Now put it away and let's forget about it, shall we."

As if he had given you the constitution of Nilfgaard itself, he raised his eyebrows and looked at you with such an intense stare that you couldn't help but put the thing into your pocket. Even through you were noisy, you did not dare to look at it.

"At least tell me what it is.", you whispered to him.

It was strange, the door was closed and nobody was in the room except for you and Herman. But you couldn't get rid of the feeling that it wasn't wise to talk loudly right now.

"It's a present. Don't dishonour it, do you hear me? You will use it at least once. If you decided correctly, you will use it multiple times. Until then, keep in mind that this present might change your life. For better or for worse, it doesn't matter. Just keep it.", he insisted.

Unsure but not willing to let his last will go unfulfilled, you nodded and made your way back to the kitchen.

As you sat on the edge of the door, a little devastated by the hard work, you pulled the thing out of your pocket again, to take a closer look at it. Confused, you turned the piece of glass in your hand. Actually, it wasn't glass but a round plate cut from black stone. The surface was well polished and shimmered as the light got caught on it.

It looked little interesting, not special in any way. It couldn't have been expensive, otherwise he wouldn't have handed it to you.

So why was Herman so eager for you to keep it?

It must have had some sort of importance. Maybe it was an old family possession and he had wanted to pass it down to you. After all, he had no children and his wife was dead for a long time now. He did treat you like a grandchild and the two of you were as close as an old man and a person of your age could be.

Trying to see something, you squinted your eyes and let your fingers run over the smooth surface. It was almost too perfect to be a simple stone. But not even your fingers were able to find something, an engraving or a hole of some kind.

Maybe it was just a simple, black plate of stone.

A little disappointed, you sighed and let that thing disappear in your pocket again. Throwing it away seemed ungrateful to you. Even if it was only a simple piece of stone, it seemed to be important to Herman that you kept it close. You could throw it away after he had passed. But probably it would remain in your possession, as a good luck charm or a memory.

"Well...", you mumbled, tilting your head back and letting the sun kiss your (S/C) skin.

It was moment like these that made your mind wander off. A little too often, you caught yourself thinking about a general.

Was he well?

Would he be able to win the war?

Hopefully, he wasn't hurt.

But the most important thing, you wished that he would return one day.