Alright! Its the time of year where I'm back at it again. I'll most likely continue "At Long Last" at some point, but for now, I wanted to shift gears a (lot) little and see how this little 'what-if' turns out.
Yes, I am going to be trying to mix and match The Wild Hunt events with Novel events so it might get a bit sloppy and not make too much sense, but we can ignore that, aha. Regardless, enjoy!
All characters and setting belong to Andrzej Sapkowski
The rain felt like needles against her numbed skin, an acid in her fresh wounds. Removing Zireael from the man's corpse, she stumbled back, driving it into the ground to use as a makeshift crutch. They hadn't stopped coming… after Emhyr had come to his senses, he put a rather large bounty upon her head, wanting her taken alive back to him. Ciri had learned a bit too late about this, having to rush out of the village she was staying in as a band of over-eager residents decided to try and nab her. Now she had been following roads and ducking out of sight when someone was seen following behind or approaching from ahead. Normally one or two people weren't a challenge, but after a few days of fighting people and monsters off, this skirmish wasn't all that simple.
The group was trained for this work, determined to take her alive. It was a tough fight, getting more than a few wounds here and there, one even managing to get their blade into her side. Fatigued and consumed with pain, she placed a gloved hand over the wound with a grimace, she wouldn't be able to staunch the blood flow, not in the middle of nowhere.
Clenching her teeth, she would slowly slide her sword into its sheath into her back and begin to walk in the direction of the road she had come from. Without some sort of mount, making it somewhere was almost out of the question but teleporting on the other hand… but where would she go?
It were times like these she wished things could have been simple…
As she walked her mind slowly became flooded with memories of when she had been younger, carefree almost. To when she had met Geralt in the forest of Brokilon, trained at Kaer Morhen, met Yennefer at the temple… things hadn't been simple or easy per say, but they were better. She living in an ignorant, childlike bliss of what had been yet to come. She longed something as such again, but she doubted it was possible.
Unless…
Ciri glanced down at her torso, the white cloth of her shirt torn and stained a deep red that was now shared with her glove. She recalled Avallac'h's lectures on how she could move to other worlds and spheres, but time wasn't to be trifled with under any circumstances. But to her, this was as good as any, as she doubted she had the energy to fully make it anywhere. If she died trying, so be it.
Guided by her emotions and her shredded will to live, the witcheress fell to her knees. Memories were forced through her mind at a blinding pace, and without focusing on one, she drew upon her power and teleported.
Oddly enough, she remained conscious as her teleport completed, although she did end up landing crumpled on a cracked stone floor. Having not expected this, Ciri glanced up, the sight before her causing her eyes to widen as her current discomfort was forgotten. Dozens of people were staring at her from within a disheveled room, the woman first wondering what she had accidentally interrupted (as it wasn't the first time…) when a familiar face was spotted nearby. It was Geralt, but instead of feeling the relief she should've, she was filled with dread.
He appeared much younger than she should have, cleanly shaven, and glaring in her direction as if she were a charging ghoul. Ciri's gaze would then continue to move about the room, seeing two things that made the situation appear much worse.
A man collapsed up against the wall little ways behind her with the head of a hedgehog, and a young girl on the floor, weeping softly.
From what she had been told, this was almost the exact scene Geralt had described to her when he said he had met her mother.
This realization, that she was currently in Cintra, caused her to freeze, crouched on the floor, mouth parted but no sound escaping. How the hell did she manage this!? But, for everyone else, that was the least of their worries as someone in the room shouted: "Who the bloody hell are you?!" This drew the attention of a woman near the back of the room within a man's arms in the rubble of what looked to be a throne as well as Geralt, the girl, and the hedgehog.
"I-I can explain…" Ciri finally said, trying to stand, once again being reminded of her wounds and grimacing as they protested the movement. "Why do you look so familiar…?" The girl asked quietly, looking towards her even though it was ignored as the older woman in the back had already pried herself from the man's arms as she walked forward, glaring directly at her. "Go on then and explain, we've already had more than enough excitement tonight!" At her voice, Ciri flinched slightly, it painfully familiar, she never thought she would have to hear it again.
"It seems that I'm standing before my grandmother, mother, father, and adoptive father…"
The majority of people were either confused or didn't hear her, but the young ashen-haired girl seemed to pale. "What was that? Speak up I can hardly hear you. Are you another casualty from this mess?" Avallac'h's words echoed in her mind, she had to play along.
"Yes… as you can see…" Her hand moved to the wound on her side once more, the pain returning as the shock of the situation dwindled. "Can we get doctors in here?" Her voice resonated off the shaken walls, the remaining servants and knights scrambling to do her bidding.
As most of the attention was taken off of her, Ciri couldn't help but give into the unsteadiness she felt. Sinking back to her place on the floor, the thought that she could simply teleport out and to another location, and hopefully the right time, rather enticing. Yet that was soon going to be a bit more difficult to pull off as their were a pair of eyes still lingering on her, they belonging to none other than her mother. She couldn't risk ruining anything before she was born!
Grimacing, the eyes didn't matter anymore. Ciri forced herself to, once again, leave the building and hopefully the time period.
She remained conscious as her teleport completed, although she did end up sprawling across a lush forest floor, rolling to a stop in a tangle of plants and limbs. With a curse she'd slowly try to sit up with a wince, keeping pressure on her wound as she examined the area around her, squinting due to the bright sunlight that filtered in through the canopy. She didn't completely recognize this place, but she was half convinced she was just dropped in the middle of nowhere.
Grumbling, she would finally stand, using nearby trees for support and choosing a direction to walk in. For some time, all she could hear were the crunch of flora underneath her sodden boots and fauna that inhabited the forest around her. But soon… voices? She couldn't make them out, so she tried to make her way in that direction. If it were a few hunters looking for game, a simple explanation would suffice.
Ciri wasn't that fortunate, however.
Soon she was able to look through the brush as the edge of the wood was only a few feet away, and what filled her gazed caused her to throw herself into a low crouch, eyes wide. Now she knew why this forest was even slightly familiar.
Not more than a couple feet away, she was witnessing a lesson she had had with Yennefer when she was much younger.
"Madam Yennefer, what ab-" The sorceress silenced her with a motion of her hand, her eyes scanning the brush in Ciri's direction. "We're being watched…" She muttered, standing with the younger girl moving a bit behind her as she approached wood. Forcing herself to stand, Ciri would stumble back, having half a mind to teleport away. But that thought came a bit too late as her bootheel caught on something lodged in the dirt, causing her to fall backward and slam her skull onto the forest floor. While dirt wasn't the toughest material, the packed earth was still hard enough to stun the woman, her vision flickering although remaining stable enough for her to tell that yes, Yennefer was standing over her.
There was probably not some sort of explanation for this. Not one that would suffice anyway.
"What is it?" The younger Ciri would ask, Yen blocking her view of her older self. "Stay over there and don't move unless I tell you to." Although reluctantly the child listened, remaining behind and out of sight as she muttered "So this is what you're capable of…" while kneeling down to examine her wounds. It wasn't until she moved her shirt to get a look at the stab did she curse. "How are you still alive…" Yennefer finally stated, the woman in question not bothering with an answer, seeing as the extent of her injuries and traveling through time finally caught up with her.