In the darkness grew a fading light. In the abyss, in the nothingness, in the emptiness stood the light. The light which was so close that one could touch it, but so far away that nobody could ever reach it. Fading; all hope lost. Then, amidst the drowning gloom, a tiny growl possessed it. A spreading plague of fear like a foe of the world. Except this one was bigger. Much bigger; a predator – roaring and roaring and screeching with no limits and bursting the air and the walls and the world before an everlasting quiet. Everything stood, static like the world after mass destruction. Nothing had changed. Everything that stood once before still stood, harmless and tranquil. A dormant creature, trapped in an abyss, a nothingness, an emptiness; waiting to be let out like a pressure about to burst.
Geralt, Yennefer and Cirilla strolled atop their horses through a small, muddy pathway entering Velen. Their destination was the inn they had set up camp almost, what seemed like, decades ago. They were immediately greeted with a common stench of rotting corpses and necrophage skin that crawled up their noses, making them stifle and groan instantly; not as pleasant as they remembered. They were also greeted with the sight of innocent men which waved at them with a passive sympathy with their feet as they dangled on the end of a tired rope; clinging to the ends of weak branches like a lantern on a thicket of wood – swinging without a care. Broken fences and trudged rocks also dotted the edge of the decrepit road in an attempt to lead them further into the rivers of towns and townspeople like an overly-helpful innkeeper who asked nothing in return for their aid. Looking into the far distance, Ciri drank in the refreshing landscape. Treetops and snowy mountains rose, eager to be explored; fragments of adventures. Trying to cope with the rough journey of her horse, she sighed and repositioned herself.
"How much longer? My bum has been latched to this saddle for days." She moaned like a petulant child with a set of metal bars between her and a jar of sweets. Geralt almost laughed at her statement, evidently not affected by this as he practically lived on a saddle. Yennefer noticed the internal giggle and slight grin. They'd been on the journey for days, riding back from Skellige. A boat, a tour through Novigrad (in which Yen kept her head down, aware of Triss Merigold with eyes pierced like sharp daggers) and finally into Velen.
"Not much now, Ciri," Yennefer said gently with her back slumped against her mare with eyes fading; tiredness dragging them down with clenched fists over her eyelashes. She tried desperately to awaken herself with constant prods and pinches to her skin and forehead to startle her like blasting cold water.
"Yen. I'm sorry to keep mentioning this, but you haven't eaten for days." Geralt said, offering the bread from his saddlebag.
"No. I want Ciri to have it." She pointed caringly. Geralt still stared at her with half angry – half loving eyes; he wasn't sure which.
"Please eat. Even just a little." He continued to poke.
"Geralt, your face will eat the palm of my hand in a minute if you don't shut up." Ciri watched both of them argue pathetically before chuckling quietly. She saw that they meant to prove their own points individually but at the same time they both pleaded for rest as they winked their fatigue away. They saw the village in sight.
Entering the inn, they consumed the warmth. Yennefer almost collapsed to the floor but instead rushed to the nearest table like a wraith; grumbling and possessing all of the space on the wooden surface. Geralt budged her over to own a seat whilst Ciri took the other side.
"Well, let's have a check-up." Geralt began before fumbling with a piece of paper that he withdrew from his bag. "We have eight of the ten amulet we need to collect for the king, however this list he gave us is now out of locations. We have no leads. I say we return to him for an update, then navigate our next move. What do you say?" Geralt looked at the both of them for a response, but they weren't focusing on him. Yennefer in particular looked like her drained energy has been quenched and was instead looking over Geralt's shoulder with overly pleased eyes. Footsteps approached after the entrance to the building slammed shut.
"Hunter!" she screamed, running towards him and towards his chest. She looked frantically to each scar and bruise on his face like a loving mother. Her eyes darted to each of them with incredible speed. Hunter approached his arms around her, welcoming the hug.
"Hello again. I just wanted to give you a little gift…" he whispered quietly so only the trio could hear. While Yennefer looked up at his curiously, he tossed the amulet he protruded from his pocket to Geralt, who still sat at the bench.
"Where did you get this?" he asked, standing up. Ciri smiled from a distance. Hunter laughed before unlatching from the sorceress.
"I have my ways." Geralt greeted him to the table before announcing his plans. He repeated his earlier words and suggested they head back to the contractor for more information. Whilst Hunter was an individual and preferred to be alone, he smiled graciously and slowly nodded, carefully looking into each of their eyes. They all nodded to each other in an awkward silence before catching rest for a few hours and leaving the inn. Hunter experienced a shiver as he passed under the doorframe.
Entering the castle after dismounting their rides, the four of them equally smelt the sticky sense of elegance. Chandeliers and torch sconces danced in pride around the castle walls. Gold plated, jewellery embedded plates and cups dotted themselves everywhere, alongside the regal red carpet, in the King's throne itself.
"Geralt, Yennefer, Cirilla and…" the king greeted in a surprisingly less monotonous voice than they expected.
"Hunter." He corrected.
"Greetings, Janshai." Yennefer also stated in a welcome voice to the contractor.
"I trust you have a few things to bring me." He turned, back towards them and beginning to stride towards his throne and start gently prodding and stroking it like his pet. Geralt brought himself closer and unleashed his satchel that had previously slung itself across his back.
"We have nine of the ten." He fidgeted inside the bag before swiping out the clutter of amulets and handing them over. "Now we are out of leads." Yeoman smiled as the amulets decorated his palms.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, a group of the King's men entered via the large wooden door behind Yennefer, Ciri and the archer. They wore yellow fabricated armour plates with an unusual symbol. Hunter's eyes widened as he recognised them immediately. Gasping, he moved to a darker corner of the room smoothly without raising suspicion, hiding his face.
"Sorry, Sir, sorry," the leader sounded out of breath, "we finally have it!" he called proudly before raising the final amulet into the air with his grasp. Eight confused eyes stared at it.
"Wait." Yennefer turned, armed crossed and eyes just as furious. "You had others collecting them too?" Voice of hell, Geralt knew she was about the get increasingly angry; he recognised this tone. Yeoman's face darkened. His mouth tightly closed in spite and eyes widened into a malicious stare.
"And I thought we could've ended this nicely." He turned again, hands behind his back – calm. "I need to explain a few things. They were never… my amulets. I never lost them. Instead I needed them for a another reason. I lied to you to collect them for me; made up this whole story about someone coming in and stealing them from me." He scoffed, "I'm actually surprised you were gullible enough to fall for it. Then I set my men on them as well, in hope of speeding up the process. Unfortunately, our asses were becoming discovered by you. Ciri, to be precise." He turned, "Do you remember that, Cirilla? That temple, in Velen? You saw a few people before hugging the cold floor with a poisonous spike to your neck like an animal!" he grinned and laughed, emitting an evil impression. Ciri suddenly realised and needed Yennefer to hold her back from physically doing something she'd regret.
"You bastard!"
"So I changed tactics…" he continued, "instead of collecting them, I planted them in convenient positions for you to find, to try and reduce suspicion of us. The ocean temple in Skellige. The mansion." His eyes hurtled towards Yennefer's blazing face before laughing once again. "It was mostly a set up. I had hoped you would never notice, but I'm afraid we are too late. Pass me the amulet, Malcom, it's time we finished this."
"You don't move a step." Hunter yelled with a slight nervousness in his voice which he hoped nobody noticed. He had his bow drawn and pointed at Malcom, the scarred man who he met in the cabin a mere few days before and tortured him, sticking the scars and bruises effortlessly to his face. "I will shoot." Malcom on the other hand, smiled mockingly; uncaring of death, or an arrow in his eye. Yennefer brewed her sparks from her fingertips whilst Geralt and Ciri escalated – talking with the high-pitched screams of their swords unsheathing. The room became locked with an everlasting silence. The malicious king stopped in his steps and turned. His guards also drew their swords and crossbows. They all knew someone was going to die. Nobody was backing down now. Then a whistle sounded like a pin dropping – the tiniest of noises before the storm… A faceless guard whispered his bolt through the air and into Yennefer's side. She screeched in pain like a thousand fires as it pierced her previous wound; explosions of a thousand agonies. Her spells died out before clutching the wound, blood spilling like water. Geralt swore before dropping his steel sword to the cold, stone ground and darting to her to help. The sword clunked to the floor with a satisfying clang. Then it happened. Arrows flew, swords bounced. Ciri teleported through some, disorienting them, then delivering her sword into the hairs on the back of their necks before effortlessly groaning to the ground, blood casting a puddle. Hunter rapidly released arrows at all targets, but trying to hit Malcom of all people. He got a few, exploding a few brains into eternity, but not Malcom. By this point, Geralt had dragged Yennefer to a wall at the side of the large hall, leaving a blood trail.
They lost – the guards were too frequent to beat completely. Ciri noticed this and dropped her neck low and swore. They restrained her, another stole Hunter's bow and held his arms. Another two glared down at the witcher and sorceress before yanking them up from the floor.
"This is not how I wanted things to turn." The king said. He almost hadn't moved from his position before the fight started. He simply stared upon the monstrosity. Dead bodies of his own men plotted themselves around the room, painting the carpets with a deeper red colour without question. What makes them different in death than life? They did things without question, in life and in death. He infamously smiled again, uncaring for his soldiers like tossing a few paper cards away. "Take them to a jail cell. Heal and bandage the sorceress' wound then throw her in too." He started throwing orders to the emotionless guards that remained. Malcom sat at a bench in the corner of the room, plucking at a graze at his shoulder. They dragged Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri and Hunter each towards a smaller door across the hall. "Not him." Janshai called, staring at Hunter. "He stays here."
"No..." Yennefer tried to call weakly but nobody heard her. The next few minutes resulted in the trio being controlled down a few gloomy corridors into the depths of the castle, angry at his betrayal to the contract. He had all ten amulets and he has a plan to use them. Geralt growled in anger, but to no avail.
"Do you think he's forgotten that I can teleport?" Ciri chuckled behind the steel bars alongside Geralt and Yennefer. They both simultaneously looked at her smile, then also caught her humour. Ciri stood from the dirty, rat-riddled ground and pressed her face to the coldness of the thick bars, then sighed.
"We still can't get out." Geralt reminded her calmly before shifting his position and fiddling with a bit of hay he found in the corner of the room. Yennefer had offered she could use a portal out of the cage but Geralt nastily refused like a dismissive old man. Ciri waited until the path across the cage they were in was clear before emitting a shiny blue pathway as her body dematerialised to the other side. She landed it perfectly.
"How long have you been practicing that pirouette?" Geralt asked in a whisper.
"Glad you noticed!" Ciri ignored his original question but instead grinned from the other side of the iron bars. "Don't worry," she started in a silent voice, "I'll find a way to get you out." They both passively smiled to emphasise their trust between them. Then she left in a blink of an eye.
"Do you honestly think she'll be fine?" Yennefer said anxiously. Geralt noticed a slight shake in her voice, which he wiped away which an awkward hug around her shoulders. He replied with a question.
"How many times have we had to trust her before?"
Carelessness got the better of her. As Ciri sprinted around the corner, she ran straight into the chest of a patrolling guard. Except she soon found out he wasn't patrolling. He gripped her tightly around the arms like a father's child whilst Ciri scuffled away and attempted to toss a few punches to the face of the body she couldn't see in the ruckus.
"Woah, woah. Hold on." The voice said. They both stopped like the freezing of time. She took the opportunity to gaze up from his plated armour to his face. Kind. Soft. Caring. A soldier out of place. "I'm here to help."
Taking the opportunity, she prodded her curiosity. "How?"
"I know it might not look like it… from the armour and… stuff," No shit, Ciri thought, "but I don't agree with the king's… actions." Ciri caught stumbles of unprofessionalism yet understanding in his voice. "I'm here to help. I… I have the key to your cell." Ciri, though this was suspicious, seemed to lean towards him. She trusted him despite the amour and emblem that proved him otherwise. Could he be trusted? She nodded after hesitation.
"Down there. I trust you know where it is."
Ciri, to Janshai's surprise, rushed into the main hall that they had set foot in a few hours before. Though this time it changed to a darker tone. Blood painted the walls, bodies overlayered the old carpet and Hunter sat gagged and bound to a rusty iron, crippled chair in the centre of the room whilst Yeoman stood at the end of the room, next to his throne and fiddling with the tip of a knife.
"Nice of you to join us, Cirilla." He dug with evil eyes, still twiddling with the tip of the sharpness at his thumb. He looked up at her and grinned once more. Ciri tried to run to Hunter but the arms of the guard that grasped her wrists held her back.
"Let him go!" she squealed, losing dignity as it oozed out of her voice. She repeated it a few times but the more she tried, the more she realised he wasn't listening.
"I will. In time." Yeoman knelt, and placed the final amulet in its socket on the ground, facing a wall too bare. Too much like a doorway waiting to be opened. Standing once again and whacking the grains of dust from his knees, he made his way to attach the knife he'd been holding to Hunter's throat, immediately making his eyes blink more frantically in an attempt to wink away his panic. He flickered his gaze to Ciri in an agonising plead for help.
"I said let him go!" Ciri struggled more.
"I'm afraid, my dear Cirilla, this process requires… a sort of… sacrifice." He trailed off as if all effort went through the knife and not his speech. He laughed; laughed and laughed and looked up to the ceiling and down again – rubbing the knife against the throat and connecting a spot of blood to the surface.
"Don't you fucking d-" Ciri tasted the sweaty palm of her captor behind her, becoming almost tackled to the ground.
"Don't you fucking dare." Yennefer repeated as she entered the room with a furious gaze. Geralt also entered but felt naked without his sword. Ciri thought she saw a slight fear in Janshai's eyes, but then faded away into an increased hysteria as he put on his evil act once again. The mask was slipping.
"You really think you can stop me?" he snickered like a predator amongst prey. He released the tension by removing the knife from the archer's throat, but still leaving a slight mark. The blood trickled gently down his throat yet he was relieved nonetheless. "This didn't need a 'sacrifice', Ciri. I just wanted to see how you'd react." He turned and stroked his hand upwards towards the top corner of his golden throne, "Now then, shall we begin?" he twisted his wrist with a satisfying click before the walls shuffled left and right, spitting dust from the corners and revealing something bright inside. Thumps. Rhythmic waves of vibrations approached the lasting light. A large figure cast its shadow through the open doorway. The large beast entered the room. Large, ominous, rocky skinned and gigantic. Fingertips the size of a man's head. Steel-plated arms and chest; eyes of lava. A growl which could render a thousand people deaf within an instant. This was the figure of certain death. The giant continued to slowly move forward. Feeling its power, Yeoman cranked his neck up to stare at his new creation and knelt down in respect and glory.
"Your creator! Your holy leader! Hail before me!" The king started, chanting like a holy ritual. "Your creation; your birth! What do you say before me?" The monster knelt down; the building shaking in the process. Then everything stopped, flooding a painful silence, followed by the throbbing torture of Yeoman's screams as the monster crushed his head with its fingertips, splashing a tiny bit of blood on its thumb. His body flopped to the ground. The four of them gazed half in terror, half in amazement as the creature stood up again and agitated the world with its laugh. Then everything happened at once.
The remaining of the king's guard fled through the large arch at the back of the room after dropping their weapons to the ground like pebbles into water. After the man holding Ciri fled like a scared animal, she darted towards Hunter and swiftly tugged at the ropes on his wrists, immediately giving him liberty to fumble for his bow and arrows. Geralt untucked the sword from the belly of a dead soldier and bustled around the feet of the creature before stabbing at the toes. Yennefer cast sparks and explosions at the head of the brute, consequently forming blinding clouds of panic. Hearts like a marathon sprint, they each contributed to the destruction of their enemy. Enclosing the threat, each moved closer in a circular motion whilst throwing pain at areas of its skin. Ciri, after untangling the archer, teleported to the neck of creature, which felt miles away, and started pricking its eyes with her tiny fingers… it didn't fail to decay under the pressure. Despite the gallons of blood pulsing from the ankles of it, a simple sweep of the toe flung Geralt to the other side of the room before entering a gaze of confusion. Damage had been dealt, however, as the creature fell to its knees. It wailed decades of suffering equal to the tornados of throbbing of the wounds that popped around it. Ciri managed to impair the brute of its sight before it thrashed palms behind itself, knocking her to the ground and stunning her of her surroundings. Yennefer, distracted by her daughter's damage, stopped immediately what she was doing and flung herself towards her lying body. Using the last of its current energy, the green-oozing hostility brushed its arm and kindly greeted the sorceress' back to the cobblestone wall; sucking her breath from her lungs. Silence fell before an everlasting earthquake as tons of weight crashed to the ground. The creature was barely breathing… It tried to force itself from the ground but failed as an arrow flung from the opposite side of the room into the centre of its eyes, sending it from the world and rendering its body limp and still. Hunter exhaled and his heart slowed in relief. Each of them stared at him in the middle of the calm.
It was so calm that they heard the whistle. The quick nothingness that only slightly penetrated the tranquillity, but it was enough. Hunter suddenly dropped his bow into the red puddle at his feet and was fumbling at the arrowhead at his stomach, spluttering explosions of blood to coat his lips. Yennefer ran to his limp body which painted the tiny area of the floor, rapidly screaming his name. Behind him stood the archer. The man with the scar which joined the corner of his mouth to his eye.
"Malcom sends his regards." He said carelessly. He barely walked a step before Geralt's hand gripped his throat and the tip of his sword rummaged through his innards – chucking and tossing intestines to the ground. Hunter took his last breath.
Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri stood in the breezy air and dawning sun, tossing the dirt onto the mound on the ground followed by inserting a wooden symbol onto the head of the grave.
"Rest in Peace."
Later, they sat in the tavern in Velen. The room they had visited many times on their recent journey. They drank lots and thought silently at the decline of their adventure.
"Was it worth it?" Ciri said quietly. "All this death and destruction for nothing. No reward. Nothing to remember Hunter by. Just... emptiness."
"Bad things happen to good people. Sometimes you can't help it and the gods fiddle with Fate in their grasp." Yennefer replied, almost demonstrated the carelessness with her mug in her fingertips. Geralt said nothing. "Geralt?" she continued.
"Mhm?" he began, "Oh. Let's just spend the rest of the day here, then figure out what's next."
"I'll rent a couple of rooms." Ciri said before getting up and heading to the innkeeper.
