[It's difficult to say what's actually happening when the first exchange of memories incites between Thancred and Yennefer. Being so far out from the castle, they can't hope to have any further instances to compare to; no idea that this is a wide-spread event that is afflicting more than just the three of them. As far as Stephen knows, it isn't the three of them, but only two -- it's partly why, when he reaches out to try to analyze, with his own magic, what could be happening, his fingers brush against Thancred's shoulder, and that's all it takes for-
The memory erupts in a whirl of color, disjointed and in fragments that seem to repeat as though on loop. Stephen stands in some strange, cosmic domain of lurid hues and a backdrop of infinite darkness, facing off against a being so much larger than him, so much more powerful. Dark magic rolls off of it looming before him in waves, lording above, its face tilted down at disgust at the sorcerer.
Dormammu, I've come to bargain. The phrase appears to be the crux that everything hinges around, circles around, repeats itself. Because Stephen dies by the hand of this awful thing; Thancred would see it clearly every single time. Blasted by energy, impaled by spikes of magic, crushed under a giant fist, suffocated when the floor beneath his feet devours him whole. It happens again, and again, for what seems like forever, and resetting always with the same utterance.
Dormammu, I've come to bargain.
Until, finally, the bargain sticks. The threat of time on repeat causes hesitation from the thing called Dormammu, and there's a pause of consideration, one in which so much relies upon. The fate of Earth itself.
And the memory ends. As swiftly as it had crashed through the other's mind, it recedes.]
for thancred; cw; various mentions of death and dying
And the memory ends. As swiftly as it had crashed through the other's mind, it recedes.]