During their travels, one of the villages that Ciri and Avallac'h passed through was Lindenvale.
They had arrived a day before Saovine and as they stopped to rest for a spell, it was then that Ciri was hired by the ealdorman to help keep the peace and ensure that no angry, vengeful spirits came to terrorize the village during the holiday.
Ciri knew from her studies that Saovine was when the veil between their world and that of the spirit world was rumored to be the thinnest, creating prime conditions for ghosts to cross over and for the living to contact the deceased. Of course, that also meant that not-so-friendly spirits could cross over and start trouble and it was one of those situations where the services of a witcher were well-desired, which boded well for Ciri's coin purse.
Ciri spent most of the day preparing moon dust bombs - as many as she could carry on her belt and in her grenade pouch to ensure that she had more than enough to handle any malicious ghosts that reared their ugly heads - and once nighttime came around, she had found herself patrolling the area between the village and the cemetery for several hours straight until she got tired and decided to camp out on the fringes of the graveyard in hopes of resting her feet and potentially seeing a ghost or two.
No spirits had reared their ugly heads even after darkness had fallen and Ciri was becoming convinced that Saovine was going to be a largely uneventful night. She couldn't help but look to her elf companion, who leaned against a nearby pillar and said,
"Wouldn't you rather be sleeping?"
She was sitting atop one of the many stone pillars that made up the fencing for the cemetery, which provided a good vantage of the entire graveyard and over any ghosts that would try to sneak up on her, whereas Avallac'h leaned against the pillar next to hers with his arms crossed over his chest.
As long as the spirits appeared from within the cemetery, there was no chance that they would be able to take her by surprise… at least, not without getting a moon bomb to the face.
Saovine had been a quiet night thus far but the air was thick with smoke from the effigies of Falka that the villagers were burning and Ciri could smell burning wood and ash.
There wasn't much for her to complain about, though, for the air here was still of good quality and she hadn't seen any malicious spirits coming back from the dead to terrorize the living yet. She didn't want to count her ducks before they hatched but she figured she could consider this contract as the easiest one she had ever taken and in six hours, she would be able to happily take her promised payment and continue on her journey to the next contract, wherever that ended up being.
"Should I be?"
"Don't answer my question with a question!"
"Do you think I should be sleeping?" Avallac'h repeated, ignoring her barbed words.
"We both know how cranky you become when you don't get enough sleep," Ciri quipped; Avallac'h resisted the urge to roll his eyes because there was more truth to her statement when it applied to her and much less so to him.
"If I may change the topic for a moment, have you put in any more thought into Voorhis' proposal?"
"I already told you, I'm not going to entertain the thought anymore."
"Ignoring the problem won't make it go away, Zireael."
"Here's the thing, in a worst case scenario, I'll go into hiding if I have to. It's not ideal, I know, but neither is marrying into nobility. That, or… I'll change my hair color."
"What about your scar?"
"What of it?"
"You've earned yourself quite a reputation," Avallac'h reminded her. "Tell me: how many women have a scar like you?"
"So? That doesn't mean anything," Ciri huffed as she crossed her arms, though she realized that she was lying to herself because her scar was one of her most defining features, next to her white hair, of course. Unless Avallac'h decided to resume his treatments, the offending mark on her cheek was here to stay.
"Is something else on your mind?" He could always tell when she had something to say, having learned the meaning behind all of her little, subconscious quirks long ago and judging from the knowing look on his face, Ciri knew there was no reason to try to lie to him.
"I wonder if… getting married would get him off my back," she mused.
"Do not feel pressured to rush into something as important as marriage just because some noble wants your hand. It likely won't change much, even if you showed Voorhis proof of your union."
"So what am I supposed to do?" She was growing quite frustrated by the constant back and forth between her and Avallac'h when she would have much rather preferred a straight answer from the elven sage, even if he ended up telling her what she didn't want to hear.
"Stop running away from the problem and face it head-on," Avallac'h insisted.
"You mean, tell him I don't want to marry him to his face?"
"Precisely, Zireael."
"You make it sound so easy," she huffed. "Of course it is, you're not the one Voorhis wants to marry."
"Make it clear in no uncertain terms that you are not interested and if he is smart, he will not bother you again."
"I sure hope you're right."
Accomplishing such a feat was nowhere near as simple as Avallac'h was making it seem and Ciri couldn't help but wonder when he had started speaking in such firm absolutes. It was unlike him and she felt as if he was ignoring the most important details of the bigger picture: that, even if she somehow got Voorhis to back off, he wouldn't be the first nor the last one to pursue her hand in marriage.
At least he had the grace and politeness to inform her of his intentions through a letter; she knew that others weren't below stooping to kidnapping or coercion, like threatening to kill all those near and dear to her just to get her to agree to a political marriage. She could handle herself in a fight but a king's army could quickly overpower her, even with the help of her witcher father, sorceress mother, Eskel, Lambert, and… whatever Avallac'h was.
"There are plenty of women in Nilfgaard who are better suited for a life in the Royal courts and will happily allow him to bed them. I don't understand why he wants me specifically."
If it was for all of the lands she was entitled to, then he could have them all. She would willingly give it all away in exchange for avoiding marriage.
Now, if he had set his sights on the Elder Blood, then she was in a stickier predicament and it would be harder to get him off her back but she didn't want to think about that and resolved to worry about that if the topic came up.
She wished there was some way that she could be prepared but how could she possibly anticipate something like that? The answer she planned on telling him (or anyone, for that matter) was "no" but it was unlikely that the topic would be done and buried so easily and she would have to fight much, much harder just to ensure that these power-hungry men didn't trap her in a gilded cage and threaten to hurt her loved ones unless she gave birth to a child that possessed the Elder Blood, so that it could become a pawn to its king-father and be used to rule the world.
Story of my life, it seems, Ciri thought bitterly.
A terrifying shriek suddenly pierced the air and their heads snapped in the direction of the noise just as a Nightwraith appeared by the gates of the cemetery and immediately turned its sights on the witcher and elf.
"Zireael-"
This one's all me!" she shouted enthusiastically as she leapt off the pillar, drew her sword, and disappeared in a flash of green light, reappearing behind the nightwraith a moment later with a Moon Dust Bomb clutched in her hand, which she threw down and forced the specter to assume a corporeal form before cutting it down with several, well-timed slashes.
Avallac'h watched her dance with the specter, giving it little time to react as she skillfully dodged all of its lunges and parried its attacks when she found herself momentarily backed up against a gravestone.
As soon as she saw an opening, Ciri flitted behind the gravestone, drawing out a frustrated growl from the Nightwraith as she came to stand just out of the reach of its bony claws and reappeared behind it, managing to always stay one step ahead of the poltergeist.
When it suddenly disappeared, Ciri was stunned by the flash for a moment but quickly regained her bearings when three apparitions started to close in on her. Avallac'h realized that the Nightwraith had triplicated itself but Ciri made quick work of them, too, and the battle with the real Nightwraith resumed as it reappeared with a blood-curdling shriek in front of the mausoleum.
Even with its various tricks, it was no match for the witcher and Avallac'h watched unblinkingly as Ciri delivered the killing blow and before he knew it, the nightwraith had been dealt with and all that remained was one triumphant-looking witcher standing among the gravestones.
"Well, that's that," Ciri chirped, sheathing her sword.
The rest of the night dragged on with little fanfare and at dawn, Ciri and Avallac'h shuffled back to their lodgings, feet dragging across the dirt path with exhaustion.
"Shall we set out for Novigrad tomorrow? I'm getting quite tired of staying at campsites on the side of the road," Ciri admitted with a yawn. To this, Avallac'h agreed and the matter was quickly settled.
The nightwraith had been an unexpected surprise but she had earned her coin fairly and the next day, Ciri and Avallac'h woke up well into the afternoon after catching up on much-needed sleep that had been robbed from them because of their nightly vigil.
The smell of burnt wood and ash still hung in the air but Ciri was glad to finally depart Lindenvale for Novigrad and they arrived in the Free City a few hours later.
It was a refreshing change of scenery from the depressing wastes of Velen and after she dropped off her things at the Rosemary and Thyme - Dandelion was always a wonderful host and made her feel at home, which was why she preferred giving her money to him over the other innkeepers in the city - and had some breakfast, she made her way up to Gildorf in hopes of selling off some of the trinkets she had collected in her travels and see if there were any contracts for her to pick up.
Rich folk were always willing to cough up more coin to have their problems solved and Ciri managed to find one - something about a shrieker in a recently-purchased mansion in Oxenfurt - among all the mundane postings that appealed to her. Perhaps she would stop by Oxenfurt later in the day and see what the fuss was all about.
Just as they were about to leave Gildorf and head to the Bits so Avallac'h could attend to some business of his own, Ciri realized too late that she had made the mistake of spending too much time in Novigrad's wealthiest district, for she was approached by a young man dressed in regal, black silks and wearing a necklace with a sun pendant that resembled Nilfgaard's black sun.
He introduced himself and informed her that he was an emissary working for Admiral Voorhis, which confirmed Ciri's suspicions that he was a Nilfgaardian.
"Let's go, then," she sighed heavily.
"Not the elf. Commander Voorhis only wishes to speak to you."
"If my friend doesn't come with me, then I'm not going."
"It's alright, Zireael," Avallac'h soothed.
"But-"
"Do you fear speaking to one nobleman all by yourself?"
He didn't mean for his words to come off as taunting but to his pleasant surprise, Ciri took it in stride, puffed out her chest with newfound confidence, and followed the emissary across the square.
He didn't escort her very far before she found herself in front of an extravagant villa. She didn't recognize the noble crest on the banner flapping from the flagpole but she forgot about that completely when she saw none other than Morvran Voorhis himself standing on the steps of the villa, arms tucked behind his back and a pompous look on his ugly face.
"Ah, Cirilla! It's a pleasure to see you! How long has it been, at least a decade?"
"Save your pleasantries, Morvran," Ciri spat, "and tell me why you called me here."
"Shall we speak in the garden?"
Ciri had no interest in staying long but she didn't want to make a spectacle out of herself by drawing the attention of all the nobles roaming around Gildorf and begrudgingly followed Nilfgaard's soon-to-be emperor through the manor and out into the backyard, where the first thing she noticed was that the area was completely fenced off with a sturdy enclosure made of brick stacked seven feet high and topped with wrought-iron spikes on top for extra security, making it less likely for any burglars to climb over unless they wished to impale themselves or break their bones leaping from such a tall height.
Even so, she didn't feel threatened, knowing there were plenty of ways out for her to take if the conversation dragged on for too long or took a turn she didn't like and only planned on staying long enough to say her piece and then, one way or another, she was leaving, even if she had to use her powers to do it.
"Have you had enough time to consider my proposal?" Voorhis asked as he sat down on one of the two plush chairs that had been set out.
He ignored the various sweets and tea that had been set out on the table right next to him and gestured for her to sit down as well, though Ciri declined, hoping that choosing to stand - and thus, towering over Voorhis - would intimidate the pompous commander even a little. It was unlikely, but she had to use whatever she could to her advantage to maintain a sense of balance so that he didn't get the upper hand.
"I can tell you where you can shove your proposal."
"Come now, do not speak like that, Cirilla. I called you here so we could come to an agreement, so you could see how this might benefit us both-"
"And I'm here to tell you that I want none of it!"
She decided right then to throw all caution to the wind and heed Avallac'h's advice from a few days ago and told Voorhis exactly how she felt without bothering to spare his feelings or maintain an air of decorum. He certainly didn't deserve it, and she hoped she would be able to drive home the point that she was not interested in marriage and could not be swayed.
Even more, she hoped her anger would make her so unattractive that it would send Voorhis running for the hills and cause him to banish the thought of ever having tried to convince her to marry him.
Marrying into the empire would have been the equivalent of putting on a metal collar and attaching a chain to it that only stretched to the front doors of the palace in Vizima but no further, for she would have been forced to submit to the emperor and become his unwilling puppet, bearing children until she could no more and watching jealously as he commiserated with young noblewomen while she withered away within the castle walls, lonely and unloved.
That wasn't a life; that was a prison sentence. It was the equivalent of being buried alive.
"Understand this, I will not marry you," Ciri said as she enunciated every syllable and made sure to not break eye contact with the Nilfgaardian commander.
Voorhis seemed to ponder her words for a moment, stoic face betraying nothing of his thoughts, and then he said,
"Very well. A marriage would have benefited us both more than you realize but I will respect your decision."
"Will you now?" Ciri challenged as she cocked her head to the side, voice dripping with venom. She knew from the look on his face that he was aware that she didn't believe him.
She didn't know where her newfound boldness had come from but she felt empowered and more courageous than ever before, maintaining eye contact with Voorhis in hopes of sending a message: that she was not afraid of him and nothing he said or threatened to do would be able to coerce her into a marriage that would only serve to benefit him, in spite of the commander's claims to the contrary.
"You have my word."
"We shall see," and with that, Ciri took her leave, storming out of the garden and back through the mansion to the front. She quickly reunited with Avallac'h in Gildorf's square, relieved to see that he hadn't trailed too far from where she had left him.
From the look on his face, he was clearly expectant of an update on the situation despite his attempts at appearing aloof and uninterested in the wiles of humans, even of those that were slimy, power-hungry, and didn't know when to quit pursuing a venture that wouldn't go anywhere.
"How did it go?"
"I told him I wouldn't marry him and he said that he respects my wish, though whether he was telling the truth or not is another story," Ciri reported, "but at least I told him exactly what I think."
"Very good, Zireael," Avallac'h complimented. "I'm proud of you."
Ciri could only smile, for she was proud of herself, too.