Could this shithole get any worse?
The cider Ciri was drinking tasted off , almost vinegary, and on top of being sleep-deprived, she was disappointed by her meal and mournful over the coin she had wasted.
It would have been better to go hungry, she thought as she picked at her roasted chicken leg, which still looked like it could have spent a few more minutes on the spit before being served. Instead, she had been given a half-cooked, bloody mess that wouldn't even entice a ghoul.
As irritating as the drunks were with their horrible, off-key singing, it was nice to not be alone, even from where she was sitting at an empty table near the back of the tavern with her swords to keep her company, of course, because the only language inebriated idiots understood was violence and she was in no mood to be bothered right now. The tavern owner's cat, Mia, a grey tabby with green eyes, lounged on the windowsill directly above her table, having become friendly with her ever since she stole a piece of chicken that had fallen off Ciri's plate a few days ago, and was the only companionship Ciri desired.
Afterward, one fallen piece of chicken was followed by many more that Ciri gave voluntarily and for Mia, it was as if Belleteyn had come early.
"Do you want this?" she asked Mia as she held out the chicken leg to the cat, who immediately perked up. She didn't even finish her sentence before the cat chomped down on the meat being offered to her and snatched it away before proceeding to eat it right there on the windowsill.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Now that her pathetic excuse of a meal was officially out of the way, Ciri turned her attention back to the map of the Continent she had spread out in front of her.
She had been debating whether to head down to Brugge like she had initially planned or stay north. If she went south to Brugge, which was currently in the midst of a civil war, she was likely to find lots of work. Necrophages loved corpses, after all, but if she stayed in Velen, there was no way of knowing how many contracts she would find before they completely dried up. After all, she had been quite efficient in destroying some nekker nests the other day and hadn't heard any complaints since then but a lack of complaints couldn't help her afford food, equipment, and lodgings.
Next to her, she could hear Mia snacking on her chicken leg but it was a welcome noise compared the drunks and their stupid songs, which were downright grating and made Ciri want to pack up her things, scoop Mia up, and teleport out of the tavern.
After all, the cat was the perfect partner in crime: she was non-judgemental, quiet, and best of all, didn't care that Ciri liked to cradle her like a baby from time to time, though the witcher was convinced that the scraps of meat she fed her definitely helped keep the cat content. She never had to hear any lectures from Mia about the Elder Blood, either, and only ever felt judgement from the cat whenever she refused to share her plate with her.
"Sorry, old girl, I don't have any more," Ciri said to Mia when she meowed inquisitively. All that remained between the cat's paws was the chicken bone, which she had effectively stripped of meat, and all Ciri had left on her plate were some untouched pieces of cooked peppers and she doubted Mia wanted those.
Just out of curiosity, she lifted her plate and held it to the cat's face and wasn't surprised when Mia moved her head away.
"Yeah, me too, Mia."
She then went back to considering all her options and had nearly decided her next course of action when a messenger walked in and handed her a letter stamped with a seal bearing a pentagram and a parcel that had seen better days, which instantly lit a fire under her.
"What the hell is this? Did you search my package?" Ciri demanded.
The paper that the parcel had been wrapped in was torn in several places and was only being held together by the strings wound around it, which had clearly been cut with a knife before being haphazardly tied back wherever possible to give the impression that it hadn't been touched. She could clearly see the contents beneath the paper and looked up to glare at the young man, expecting an answer.
"It was given to me like that, miss!" he spluttered.
"Everything better be in here or I'll make you regret it!"
"I swear on Melitele! Please, have mercy!"
Ciri forced herself to calm down long enough to give him a tip and watched the messenger fearfully scurry out of the tavern as fast as his legs could carry him. What a nuisance…
"Some people can be real barbarians, Mia," Ciri complained to the cat, who blinked lazily. She was clearly uninterested in the affairs of humans and the witcher almost envied her for her easy life; were she a cat, too, Ciri would have been content with catching any rodents that dared approach the tavern and living an otherwise pampered, stress-free life.
She looked at the items she had received and chose to open the letter first because she knew it was from Yennefer just from looking at the seal.
Since she was in a bit of a bad mood, she decided it was best if she started by opening the letter so she could uplift herself before examining the mess that was her parcel.
Whoever had searched her package was clearly an idiot. Or thought that she was an idiot.
Dearest Ciri,
How goes life on the Path? I trust you're taking care of yourself even as you hunt monsters and protect the common folk. I'm sure you have lots of stories to tell.
Geralt and I have officially settled down in Toussaint. He has just about retired from monster hunting and we're planning to make a go at producing wine. The vineyard hasn't yielded grapes yet but there's nothing that a little magic can't do to speed up the process.
You're always welcome to come stay with us at Corvo Bianco, though you might be… surprised when you see the painting Geralt has hung up in the spare bedroom. I think it's quite adorable, though I'm not sure you'll share the same sentiment. Still, for a reproduction, it's quite lovely.
There is only so much I can say in a letter but we shall speak more in person. Do come visit when you have time.
Please take exceedingly good care of yourself, my little one.
Love you always,
Yen
"No, he didn't," Ciri muttered in horror. Even without giving her any details, she knew exactly which "adorable" painting Yennefer was referring to. She could see her scowling face and the awful, pink frilly dress that her grandmother had forced her to put on for the portrait and sent out a silent prayer to the gods for changing her fate and allowing her to become a witcher.
Still, Geralt was going to get a verbal thrashing when she finally got around to visiting.
Ciri slipped Yennefer's letter into her satchel for safekeeping and then proceeded to busy herself with her package, tearing away what little paper and twine clung to it, which revealed an intricate box made of red wood and adorned with leaf swirl carvings that had been hand-painted gold before being sealed with a polish to protect the artisan's handiwork.
There was no telling if the messenger was guilty or a third party that had rifled through her package before giving up trying to open it, seeing as anybody's silence could be bought for the right coin, but it was obvious that someone had been very desperate to break into the box and seize its contents.
She noted that the package lacked a sender on the paper, only a recipient, because the sender's name had been torn off. It didn't bode well because the package had still arrived to her but there was no way of knowing who had sent it.
The damage to the box itself was worse.
The genuine Ofieri craftsmanship had been scuffed and ruined by several dents in the wood around the line of the lid - or where Ciri thought was the lid - by a pry bar or knife and there was one particular large, glaring dent on the side of the box that had clearly been the work of a sharp axe. Despite all of the damage done to it, the box was miraculously in one piece but that was because the box itself was enchanted, specifically designed to hold secrets.
Only the designated person was allowed to open it through a mixture of careful technical handiwork and magic in order to create a puzzle that could only be unlocked by the person it was meant for.
Or at least, that was how it worked in theory.
Ciri remembered when Lambert had once showed her a puzzle box just like it that he'd received as payment for a contract, though his had weighed a ton - at least, that's how she remembered it on account of her being so young when she got to hold it - because it had been filled to the brim with gold coins.
Opening it required finesse and lots of patience because each of the little dials served as a key that unlocked the mechanisms inside the box one by one. The box would open but only if the keys were turned in the right order, of course.
Sometimes, as it had been the case with Lambert, Ofieri magic boxes could be quite complex and weren't so easy to crack.
She could still hear Lambert's shout of joyous relief - "fucking finally!", he had cheered despite there being a firm rule against swearing around her - when he had finally managed to unlock his puzzle box and retrieve his payment, which had netted him a clean 1,000 coins for killing a pair of fiends.
Afterward, he had invited her to accompany him to Kaer Morhen's battlements, where they beat up the box as much as they could using swords and clubs as punishment for wasting so much of his time and once they had their fun, they used the catapult to fling the box as far as they could… only it didn't travel as far as they'd hoped because it landed in the outer courtyard and spooked the horses into a frenzy.
And of course, Vesemir had been the one tending to the horses.
We would have gotten away with it but Vesemir already knew that Lambert was having trouble opening it, Ciri thought, pressing a hand to her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud because she knew it would have made her look downright insane in front of the other patrons. It would have been so funny if we could have convinced him that boxes were falling from the sky.
Afterward, they had earned an earful from Vesemir because, "do you two have any idea how badly you spooked the horses? I could have been trampled!" and Ciri remembered trying her best to remain serious, only to fail and get scolded by Vesemir, who hadn't appreciated their little prank one bit and didn't think it was at all funny.
Ah, good times…
Looking back to her box with a smile on her face, Ciri determined that whoever had opened her package was not a mage, that much she knew for certain, or they would have brute-forced it open and taken the contents, because even so-called Ofieri magic boxes could not withstand powerful sorcerers' magic.
Someone like Yennefer could have forced it open with an effortless snap of her fingers.
Ciri pinched the first knob and dragged it along the carved path on the side of the box until it raised the second knob out of its hiding spot.
When she managed to push it into place along the track carved around the bottom of the box, two more knobs simultaneously popped out side-by-side and Ciri managed to figure out that they were supposed to be pulled at the same time in opposite directions, which made a new knob pop out. She could feel an indentation of a second knob next to the first one but it only popped out once the first one had clicked into place and then, the lid finally lifted open.
Inside, Ciri found a folded letter, The seal was still intact, further confirming that nobody had managed to break into the box, and she wasted no time in reading it in hopes of answering a lot of questions she had, including who had sent her this box and why.
Ciri,
If you are reading this, then you have found the letter I wrote to you. I knew you would. I'm terribly sorry for all of the secrecy, illusions, and loopholes I forced you to jump through but it was necessary for our safety.
Now, I must get to the matter at hand immediately: we need your help!
My father has been hunting for us for weeks and we need help safely making it to Toussaint. There is nobody we trust but you to help us. We don't expect you to work for free, either. We will pay you however much you require for such a difficult job as soon as we get to Toussaint.
I swear to you: we will make it worth your trouble!
We are laying low in Lindenvale, in Velen. Please, as soon as you get this letter, come find us!
Sylvette & Ruiseart
Ciri had to commend them on being smart enough to cover their tracks because it was clear that someone had searched the parcel. However, the package being delivered to her wasn't reassuring in the slightest. When their pursuers had no success in opening it, they had allowed it to be delivered anyways, as if they were covering their tracks… or trying to follow hers.
Whoever is tracking them had likely figured out who I am, too, Ciri thought. I'm going to need to be careful so that I don't end up leading a band of killers straight to Ruiseart and Sylvette.
Ciri spared a glance at her map and couldn't help but think, they must really be in danger if they're running north. Toussaint is in the opposite direction.
The only upside was that Lindenvale was a few hours' ride from here and Ciri hoped they were still there. If they weren't, hopefully somebody will have noticed them leave and knew where they had gone but she wasn't willing to trust the poor memories of inattentive peasants, which meant she would have to rely on her tracking skills and pray that she got to them before anyone else did.
No time to waste, she thought as she quickly packed up her things, checked out of her room, and left after giving Mia a satisfying scratch behind the ears. She didn't even make it to Kelpie's stall in the stable before she heard someone shouting,
"Hey, lady, stop! You've bewitched me cat!"
"I did not!" Ciri protested, crossing her arms over her chest. She then looked down and saw Mia standing some feet away from her, gazing up at her with those inquisitive green eyes of hers.
"Then why the feck is Mia following you?" the innkeeper groaned exasperatedly.
"I simply spoiled her with chicken and now she likes me!"
"Your blasted spoiling has made her lazy!"
"Then it's good that I'm leaving. Mia will get back to work as soon as she sees there's no more chicken to steal from my plate."
"Mia, come on, girl, back to the inn with you!" the innkeeper huffed.
To Ciri's amusement, the cat refused to listen, obviously smitten with her as she trotted over and rubbed up against her legs while purring loudly. Clearly, Mia had decided who her favorite person was, and it clearly wasn't the poor, flustered innkeeper.
"Here," Ciri said as she tossed him some coin before his head exploded over the supposed "theft" of his beloved cat. "Give her a chicken leg, from me."
She waited outside by the stables while Mia sat at her feet, tail swishing from side to side, until the innkeeper came back outside with a raw chicken leg in hand and proceeded to wave it at the cat. Immediately, she took notice to the treat being offered to her and Ciri took it as her cue to leave and climbed into Kelpie's saddle before riding off in the direction of Lindenvale.
As enjoyable as it had been to entertain herself at the innkeeper's expense, there was no telling how many days or even weeks Sylvette had been waiting for her because her package had initially been stolen and she could only hope that they were still faring well.
The grave tone of Sylvette's letter told Ciri to not be so optimistic and to expect the worst kind of trouble.
When she arrived in Lindenvale, Ciri walked straight into the tavern and spoke with the innkeeper because, if anyone would know where those two were, it would be the person who peddled food and drink to weary travelers.
"I'm looking for two people: a girl with brown hair and brown eyes and a blonde young man with curly hair and a Toussaintois accent."
"Now that you mention it, there was a lad that had a funny accent…" the innkeeper mused. "I think I know exactly who you're talking about! They were just here yesterday but they left in a hurry."
Damn it! I just missed them?
"Any idea where they went?"
"Not a clue. I kicked them out after that lad killed nine of my patrons."
"Why would he do that?" Ruiseart killed people? Were they attacked?
"Like I know! Do you have any idea how hard it is to run a business when your clientele keeps getting killed?"
He didn't receive an answer to his question, though, because Ciri had already stormed out of the inn and hurried up the path to the graveyard, for she remembered the way since the last time she had been to Lindenvale with Avallac'h, and found the gravedigger just behind the cemetery walls standing over an open grave that hadn't been filled in yet. There were more graves around him, freshly buried and marked with wooden planks in place of a tombstone.
"Have you buried the men who were killed yesterday?" she blurted out frantically.
"Just about to bury the last one. Had to bury eight of these poor sods and this is the ninth," the gravedigger scoffed. He paused, leaning on his shovel as he said, "what's it to you?"
"Do you mind if I take a look at the corpse?"
"I can't let you desecrate the dead-"
"It's not descrating if he's not buried yet!"
"Miss, you can't loot-"
"Listen, my friends are in danger and I don't have time to discuss morals with you. Take this coin and shut up," Ciri snapped in hopes that it would stop the gravedigger from protesting.
Just because they were alone in the cemetery didn't mean that they weren't being watched, but fortunately, her money did the trick and the man became much more cooperative, turning a blind eye while she conducted her investigation.
Ciri pulled apart the funeral shroud the body had been wrapped in and immediately recognized the black-and-yellow checkered coat of arms sewn onto the man's gambeson.
Verden.
"Shit," Ciri muttered. What were Verdenian soldiers doing in Velen? More importantly, who had sent them and for what purpose? Were they hunting Sylvette and Ruiseart?
I thought they were supposed to move to Toussaint! Did something bad happen after the wedding?
More importantly, why were they being hunted?
Ciri then proceeded to search the man's pockets but found nothing, which only added to her panic.
"Did they have any belongings? Weapons, anything?"
"Aye, you can check over there," the gravedigger said, pointing to an old crate near the crypt entrance.
In it, Ciri found five swords, two daggers, a club, and several pieces of folded paper inside the box. She unfolded one after the other and read the contents, only to discover that she was holding multiple copies of the same orders, which had been written on elegant stationery in fine handwriting.
Capture Sylvette at all costs. I need her alive and brought back unharmed in one piece or it'll be your heads on the chopping block. As for the boy, kill him so he doesn't continue to be a problem.
"I'd be willing to bet all of my coin that this is Kistrin's doing," Ciri muttered under her breath as she tucked a copy of the orders into her satchel and stomped back to the gravedigger for a second round of questioning.
"There was a girl and a boy that came through here yesterday, the girl has brown hair and the boy has blonde curly hair. Have you seen anyone with that description?"
"Miss, I just bury the bodies-"
"You're not always burying bodies! You must have heard something!"
"I haven't heard or seen nothing! Now leave me be!"
"Thanks for nothing," Ciri scoffed before storming off. She returned to Kelpie and started north in the direction of Novigrad, with her reasoning being:
They could have gone in any direction but my best bet is to ride into the next town over and hope that someone saw them.
The next village Ciri passed through was Mulbrydale and just like the last place she looked, there was no sign of Ruiseart or Sylvette anywhere. There was neither a mayor nor an innkeeper in the tiny village but there was a blacksmith slaving away at the forge and with all the time he appeared to spend outside, he had to have seen or heard something.
"Ya just missed them, though if you hurry, you should be able to catch up to your friends. They were also looking for the lass and lad."
"Friends?" That didn't sound good. "Which way were they headed?"
"I'd wager north," said the swordsmith. Ciri could only hope his wager was correct and hurried off in that direction.
When the Hanged Man's Tree came into view, Ciri heard a shriek from a woman screaming for help. At the base of the tree stood a band of men with swords and clubs in hand and as Ciri neared, she could hear them taunting the woman with disgusting threats that made her stomach churn.
"You don't want to know what I'll do to ye when you get down!"
"Where's your little prince, you bitch? Did he run away and leave you behind?"
"Unlike you lot, he's an honorable man! He's worth ten knights and a thousand of you!" a feminine voice snapped, though Ciri couldn't see a woman anywhere. Was there a woman in the tree?
"His head must be worth a lot of gold, then. Tell us where he is so we can gut 'im!"
"Not in your life! I'll never tell you! You can't break me!"
"Well, then, it'll be fun making you squeal-"
Having had enough, Ciri appeared behind the taunting brigand and shoved her sword straight through his chest before kicking him away, much to the shock of his fellows. She followed up her attack by punching the man next to him in the face and slashed a third one across the chest, making mincemeat of them in a matter of seconds without getting a single scratch on her.
"Hey, you can come down now," Ciri called up into the tree once the last thug lay dead at her feet. "I took care of those men for you."
"Ciri, is that you?"
"Sylvette?"
"It is you! By the gods, am I glad to see you!"
"What are you doing in Velen?"
"It's a long story…"
"Well, come down so we can talk."
"Okay! Oh… um, I think I'm stuck."
Ciri bit back a laugh as she started to climb the tree, using the thick grooves in the trunk to hoist herself up until she made it to the branch where Sylvette stood halfway up the tree, hugging the trunk for safety. She proceeded to help her down branch by branch until their feet were planted firmly on the ground once more and once down, Sylvette threw her arms around her for a hug, crying as she clung to her, as if she was afraid that she would be taken away.
"It's okay, everything is okay now," Ciri assured her.
"It won't be okay until we get to Toussaint! That wasn't the first group of bandits and it won't be the last!"
"How many bandits has your father sent after you?"
"Oh, at least five groups so far. We're no longer allowed in three different villages in Velen because we were attacked by bandits just outside of the taverns and Ruiseart killed them."
"Speaking of whom, where is Ruiseart?"
"I-I don't know! I ran off in the opposite direction and barely escaped myself before more of those brigands showed up."
"Let's go look for him."
"Oh, I hope he's alright…"
Ruiseart was, thankfully, no more worse for wear than Sylvette.
By following his tracks in the mud, they found him not far from the Hanged Man's Tree, having taken refuge just inside the gates of an old quarry. The place wasn't on any map but despite being abandoned, it had platforms that led down into the heart of the quarry as well as mining equipment that nobody was using. Ciri figured it must have been abandoned right around the start of the Third Northern War and the workers had never bothered returning.
"Thank the gods, you're okay," Ruiseart gasped as he embraced Sylvette. "And Ciri, it's good to see you again."
"Likewise. Come on, let's go. We're exposed out here."
Ciri found it easier to breathe once they took refuge at an inn and saw that Ruiseart and Sylvette were less tense than they had been when she found them.
"So why are you in Velen? I thought you got married," Ciri asked them once they had settled into their lodgings.
"The king, he… he went back on his word," Ruiseart revealed uneasily.
"That's horrible…" Ciri had suspected as much but to hear Ruiseart confirm it was sobering.
"When you left, Kistrin threw me in prison and told Sylvette that she had no choice but to marry some nobleman from Poviss!"
"How did you escape?"
"I was going to be executed but I fought for my life and then went back for Sylvette."
"He risked his life to get to me, and we climbed out of the tower where Father was keeping me imprisoned until the wedding," Sylvette added dejectedly. "Unfortunately, he's only become more motivated to capture me. He won't rest until Ruiseart is dead and I'm married off to a nobleman of his choosing."
"If he does decide to wage a war over this, he'll likely have to face Nilfgaard," Ciri remarked in hopes of reassuring the pair.
The emperor would not take kindly to threats coming from some pompous, washed-up Verdenian king, especially towards a territory that prospered in Nilfgaard's shadow. Subtle assassination attempts weren't something that Voorhis would take lightly, especially once he learned that Verden's king was the one sowing discord across several kingdoms and Annarietta likely wouldn't be pleased with attacks in her own duchy right under her nose, either.
Ciri wondered if the situation could have been handled differently but it wasn't her place to judge, either. They had done the best they could for themselves, and now her job was to get them to Toussaint in one piece.
"I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe."
"I couldn't help but notice that you're alone. Where is your elf friend?" Ruiseart asked out of nowhere, which took Ciri by surprise.
"In Novigrad." Or Tir ná Lia. It wasn't like she had bothered to check.
"Why isn't he with you?"
Ciri glowered at him.
"Right, sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he apologized.
"It's fine," she weakly assured him, though she couldn't say she was pleased that Avallac'h had been brought up. "The important thing now is getting you two out of Velen and to Toussaint. You can explain everything on the way."
"Even if we make it to Toussaint, it's not like the bandits will give up. After all, his highness," Ruiseart spat the word like it was poison, "will know exactly where to find us."
"But we can't run forever. We'll run out of places to hide eventually."
"We can't go home either, Sylvette," Ruiseart pointed out exasperatedly.
"Let's take one night to rest," Ciri suggested before the couple got at each other's throats. "We're all tired and tense and it won't do us any good if we start arguing. It's what those brigands want, and we can't give that to them."
Kelpie also needed to rest but Ciri knew it was going to be a long night for her and an even longer day tomorrow. She was going to have to sacrifice sleep for the sake of planning their journey to Toussaint and wouldn't get to rest until they made it to the mountain pass, which was where they could hope to lose their pursuers.
Are you afraid of using your powers because you think Avallac'h will go looking for you? What does the opinion of one stupid elf mean to you, especially one who has had the opportunity to track you down several times by now… and hasn't?
I almost wish he had, Ciri thought wistfully. Almost…
There was no telling if her plan would even work, she thought as she forced herself to focus on the task at hand - she had only ever teleported herself and Geralt, never two other people - but it would spare them three to four weeks on the road if she elected to teleport, effectively making her charges vanish in thin air and giving them time to plan a counter-assault.
I'll leave Kelpie somewhere safe, and come back for her later. Avallac'h be damned…
The next morning, Ciri woke up Sylvette and Ruiseart at the crack of dawn despite having only gotten a few hours of sleep herself and hurriedly ushered them out the back door of the inn and onto horses, intent on making their trail go cold before more bandits found them.
If her plan was going to work, they needed to stay three steps ahead of their pursuers.
When they came into a market town with plans to rest for a spell before continuing on their journey, Ciri immediately spotted wanted posters for Sylvette and Ruiseart hanging on the notice board as well as the sides of several houses and the inn and immediately reacted by pulling their hoods onto their heads.
"Keep your heads low," she ordered them in a hushed whisper.
The poster with Sylvette's name and portrait had reported her as missing and asked for her safe return in exchange for a reward, but Ruiseart's was less reassuring, for it read Wanted for crimes of kidnapping and murder against the crown of Verden. A reward of 2,000 crowns will be given in exchange for this brigand's head.
"We won't be long. Just need to pick up some supplies," Ciri assured them, "and then we're going to Toussaint."
Ciri paid the local innkeeper to care for Kelpie for the next few days and then went to the market to see if there was anything she could buy. However, they couldn't hope to be so lucky because while Ciri debated on how many apples she could afford while considering what else they might need, a rough-looking stranger approached Ruiseart and Sylvette several stalls down from her.
"Why're your faces covered? It's a nice, sunny day! Why don't you get some sun in you so you're not so pale!"
"Don't touch them-"
But it was too late. By the time Ciri turned around, the thug had already pulled down their hoods and everyone in the aisle had turned around to look at them. It was clear as day on everyone's faces that they had recognized Sylvette and Ruiseart and Ciri could already see greed in the townsfolk's hungry eyes.
"Ain't that the boy from the wanted posters?"
"Aye, and that's the missing girl!"
"Run!" Ciri shouted at the top of her lungs as she shoved past the man and pushed her charges down the street.
It was so tight and cramped with all these people, who had simply come to the market to do some shopping, that she couldn't draw her sword, not without seriously hurting the innocents around her, and was forced to opt for the dagger at her belt for protection. She could hear their pursuers chasing after them, their racing footsteps practically on her heels, but a scream filled her ears and made her look up, where she spotted a brigand leap out from one of the stalls ahead of them.
Ciri reacted quickly before he could snatch Sylvette, throwing herself at him and punching him in the nose as hard as she could before dragging the princess away by the arm while they still had the opportunity to do so. In the panic, Ciri made Ruiseart and Sylvette turn a corner and didn't realize that she was leading them down a dead end until there was nowhere to go.
"Now, now, why are you running? We're all friends here. I promise I won't hurt you… much," the bandits' ringleader cackled as he sauntered his way towards them.
"Both of you, grab my hands," Ciri ordered, thinking quickly.
"What's that going to do? We're fucking cornered!"
"Ruiseart, shut up and do what she says!" Sylvette shrieked.
As soon as she felt Sylvette and Ruiseart grab hold, Ciri commanded them to "hold on" and squeezed their hands tightly to the point of bruising before teleporting them away just as swords rained down on them. Ciri's eyes shot open when she noticed her body possessed a certain feeling of weightlessness and looked down, where she saw nothing but bright blue water down below. She didn't even get any time to scream before she plunged into the water feet-first but when she came up for air, she heard two more voices and looked behind her, breathing out a huge sigh of relief when she saw that her charges had safely teleported to Toussaint with her.
"Are you both alright?" she asked worriedly and let out another sigh of relief when they both confirmed that they were just fine.
"We're saved! Thank you, Ciri! Thank you!" Sylvette gushed as she threw her arms around the witcher's shoulders once they were safely back on shore.
"I'm not sure what kind of conjuring you did but that was good thinking," Ruiseart praised. It was clear as day on their faces that they were grateful despite being soaking wet and that was all that really mattered to Ciri.
"Come on, let's get you two home."
She quickly realized that they had landed in the canal overlooked by an inn and their sudden arrival had caught the attention of the inn's customers, who were all gathered around on the bridge. She went up the wooden steps and tried to ignore the gawking, bug-eyed travelers and locals who had seen them suddenly appear as if out of thin air.
When they made it up to the bridge, Ciri spotted a sign attached to the building that read, The Cockatrice Inn but her attention was quickly diverted when a throng of people ran over, all asking her some variation of the same thing: "did you really just fall out of the sky?"
"It's like they say, never make an enemy of a witch," Ciri said cryptically, which was enough to silence any more pestering questions and allow her to lead her charges home.
They decided to go there on foot, especially once Ruiseart informed them that his family's home wasn't that far, but she kept an eye out for bandits and managed to safely escort her charges to a vineyard just west of Basane Farm, where they were greeted by Ruiseart's worried parents, who ran out of the house and across the vineyard to meet them halfway, hugging him and the princess in tight, loving embraces.
"When we didn't hear from you for weeks, we were worried that something bad happened!" the woman exclaimed. She had some crow's feet around her eyes but she still appeared youthful and her hair was a stunning chestnut brown.
"Thank Lebioda for your safe return!" the man next to her gushed. It was obvious who Ruiseart took after, for he had the same blonde curls, only his were flecked with lots of grey hairs.
"No, Father, thank Ciri," Ruiseart corrected.
"Witcher, I thank you for protecting my only son and Sylvette," the man gushed without missing a beat. "Only Lebioda knows where they would be right now if you hadn't found them."
"Come inside and rest for a spell," Ruiseart's mother insisted. "You three must be exhausted."
Over tea and freshly baked chocolate cookies, Ciri learned that Ruiseart's parents - Giacomo and Carlotta were their names - had inherited the Charbonneau Vineyard from Carlotta's grandfather, who had come from a long line of vintners in the Charbonneau family and that they had plans to pass it down to Ruiseart one day, when the time was right. They were well-known for producing an equally fruity yet tangy vintage that was a blend of wines made from apples and grapes, respectively.
Ciri wasn't in the mood for alcohol right now but she assured Carlotta that she would stop by in the future to try out some of their wine, when she was more well-rested and capable of handling a glass without falling over herself from a mixture of exhaustion and drunkenness.
Sylvette seems more than pleased with the idea of vinting wine for a living, Ciri thought. Though I suppose anything is better than being forced into an arranged marriage for her father's benefit.
She never did quite understand the logic behind "learning to love" one's spouse when the marriage was arranged for political reasons, like her betrothal to Kistrin - that would have been a disgusting, living nightmare - or Radovid - thank goodness that arrangement was broken off by his father or she would have married an insane man who had the blood of mages and non-humans on his hands - or any of the other kings, princes, and lesser nobles that had sought her hand. There was no way to "learn to love" when there was no love in the first place.
Ironic, considering that Grandmother chose to marry Eist for love, not politics.
"It's getting late. Would you like me to have the servants make you a bed in the guest room?" Carlotta asked Ciri after the dishes were cleared from the table.
"Oh, thank you. I appreciate the offer but I do have a place to stay in Toussaint."
"Oh, Ciri, I understand if you have to go-"
"Don't worry, I'm in no hurry to leave," Ciri assured Sylvette. "I was planning to visit my parents later but I can stay as long as you need me here."
"I think we'll be okay for now," she decided after a few moments of deliberation.
"Okay, if you say so. I'll come by tomorrow to check on you."
"Thank you, Ciri- wait! Your payment, as promised," Sylvette chirped as she reached into her satchel and handed her a hefty coin pouch and a set of yellowed papers, which, upon closer inspection, turned out to be diagrams for a set of Wolf School armor.
"I hope the payment is sufficient."
"It's more than sufficient," Ciri assured her with a giddy smile. "Take care. I'll see you tomorrow."
She left the house and started for Corvo Bianco, which she could see in the distance, but was stopped by Ruiseart's mother before she could get very far. It was clear as day on her face that she wanted to tell her something and she could only wonder what had suddenly lit a fire under the woman.
"I know Sylvette already paid you but I wanted to thank you personally," Carlotta gushed, "for bringing my son and daughter-in-law home safe and sound. I really cannot thank you enough!"
"It was no trouble. Thank you for the gift," Ciri said humbly as she took the coin the woman offered to her and after bidding her farewell, went home.
As soon as she stepped foot onto the grounds of Corvo Bianco, Ciri found it easy to forget about her personal problems while she dined with her parents, an old woman named Marlene who had prepared and cooked a divine meal, and the majordomo Barnabas-Basil, who Geralt occasionally and affectionately referred to as B.B.
She felt at home with her family - B.B. and Marlene were two welcome additions - but she couldn't help but occasionally glance over at the empty chair on the other end of the table and feel like someone was missing, though she didn't dwell on it for too long and turned her attention back to the conversation before anyone noticed she had spaced out.
The next morning, Ciri woke up feeling refreshed after sleeping on such a plush, comfortable bed that made her want nothing more than to steal it and take it with her on her adventures but alas, it was an impossible pipe dream. At least she was always welcome to stay at Corvo Bianco as long as she wanted.
As she got dressed, Ciri glanced over at the painting hanging on the other side of the room and smirked to herself. She had draped a shirt over the top of it and while she could see the frills of that horrid pink dress peeking out from the bottom of the painting, at least her scrunched up, protesting face was hidden from view.
She didn't care how "cute" Yennefer and Geralt thought she was; she wasn't going to glance at it as long as she was staying over.
After having breakfast with her parents, Ciri grabbed her satchel and set out to check in with Ruiseart and Sylvette, only for her heart to sink into her stomach when she came across an awful, grisly sight at the Charbonneau Vineyard.
Corpses were strewn about on the vineyard grounds, lying in pools of their own blood, and it looked as if the vineyard workers had been chased down before being slaughtered mercilessly.
What happened here? Bandits, but how?
Had the bandits from that town they teleported away from somehow managed to track them down?
But that's impossible! Ciri swore she had left them behind and if they were looking for them, they were supposed to be weeks away from arriving in Toussaint… unless this was the doing of an entirely different group altogether. It was more likely for that to be the case but it didn't change the fact that Sylvette and Ruiseart were still being hunted nor ease Ciri's concerns for their safety.
Damn Kistrin! Damn him! He's persistent!
Ciri barely managed to duck out of sight behind a pillar just as a couple of brigands passed by her hiding spot between the marble pillar and the bushes as they walked up the dirt path to the house, where they joined other bandits who had gathered by the front door of the house.
While still behind cover, Ciri took a moment to observe them in hopes of figuring out their motives and fortunately, she didn't have to strain her ears because they were awfully loud.
"Open this fucking door! We know the girl is in there!" one of them shouted as he banged on the door.
"Are we going to starve them out?" another asked. He sounded far too excited suggesting such a thing, and it made Ciri furrow her eyebrows in disdain.
"That'll take too long! If they don't open the door by dusk, we're going to smoke them out. Go find as much firewood as you can."
"Aye, aye, boss!"
Oh, good, they're safe! Ciri thought with relief.
She imagined herself in the entrance hall and teleported into the home, where her sudden appearance caused Sylvette and Carlotta to jump in terror and for Ruiseart to grab his sword before he realized that it was just her and not a teleporting bandit.
"Don't be alarmed! It's just me, Ciri!" she uttered in a hushed tone, arms raised in front of her to keep everyone calm. When Ruiseart finally lowered his sword, she asked, "is everyone alright?"
"We're fine. Just a bit shaken," he reported. "Most of our workers are safe, too, but a few are unaccounted for."
"I found some bodies outside near the vineyard."
"I thought you said that we had left the last of the bandits behind!"
"I thought so, too, but it seems they've been keeping up rather well. You were right, they anticipated us coming to Toussaint and knew exactly where to find you."
"But we should have had time to prepare, right?" Sylvette asked.
"Yes, we should have but it seems that this is a completely different group," Ciri commented. "I didn't recognize any of them from the bandits that chased us in the marketplace in this group. They're probably Toussaintois."
"They just keep coming," Ruiseart huffed. Ciri couldn't blame him for being frustrated because she, too, couldn't help but wonder if this chaos would ever end.
"So what do we do now?" asked Sylvette.
"I'll take care of them."
"Alone?" Ruiseart questioned.
"Yes, alone. You won't be of any use to me out there," Ciri remarked. "Bar the door and don't open it, no matter what you hear. I'll let myself in."
Ciri teleported to the porch but quickly teleported again when she realized she had instantly been spotted, perching herself behind the chimney this time in hopes that the bandit who saw her would pay no mind to what he'd seen.
"I just saw a fucking specter!"
"Shut your gob, there's no specter around here! It's the middle of the fucking day!"
Oh, there is a specter, you fools, Ciri thought as her lips curled up into a wicked smile. It's me, your worst nightmare.
"Calvin, I swear, it's a woman! Didn't you see the green lights up on the bal-"
"You've snorted too much fisstech, Peter! Lay off it before you get someone killed!"
Yes, do take care not to overdo it, Peter. Who knows what other monsters you'll see when you're high as a kite?
When Peter and Calvin parted ways, one going in one direction and the other in the opposite with plans to patrol the grounds, Ciri waited until they were far enough apart before teleporting from her perch and landing right behind Peter, who she grabbed, pressing a hand over his mouth before teleporting him out to the deepest part of the forest and swiftly killed before teleporting back to the vineyard to take care of the rest of the brigands in the same fashion until all of them lay dead.
"I think that's everyone," Ciri reported when she teleported back inside some time later. She felt quite tired and felt ready to sleep for weeks, which concerned her that she had pushed herself too far with so much teleporting. At least the danger was gone for now and she could rest while they planned their next move.
She asked everyone to gather in the dining room at the back of the home and proceeded to consider a plan of action in relative peace and quiet without having to worry about outsiders overhearing.
Ciri debated on asking Geralt for help but decided she didn't want to drag him into this mess because in the end, it was her contract, her problem , and she needed to prove now, more than ever, that she was capable of handling such sticky problems without immediately running home to her father for help.
"How soon can we get the Ducal Guard here?" Carlotta asked.
"But Mother, what if more of them come after us?" Ruiseart pointed out. "And who will we even send to get help?"
"We should keep the Ducal Guard in mind but we don't want to lead them right into an ambush, either," Ciri noted.
"So what do you propose, witcher?" old man Giacomo questioned. "It won't be long before those two brigands return with wood and reinforcements, especially once they see that all of their compatriots are dead."
He was right, but Toussaint was already standing at the precipice of an international diplomatic incident, though to no fault of Ruiseart or Sylvette, and they needed to be careful as they made their plans to ensure things didn't get even messier than they already were. She wasn't about to carelessly send knights to the slaughter but at the same time, Ciri wondered if she could even get the Ducal Guard's attention and get them to the vineyard in time to anticipate another attack?
"All we can do then is take care of them and then seek help. We'll have to get the duchess involved."
"What, why?" Sylvette demanded, terror visible in her dark eyes.
"Bandits have already killed some of her citizens and a monarch from another kingdom has sent killers after you," Ciri stated, pointing out the obvious.
"What if she sends me back to my father?"
"I won't let her send you anywhere," Ruiseart assured her as he draped a comforting arm over her shoulders. "Your home is here, with me."
"We'll be ready by the time they come back," Ciri assured the family and then started to prepare.
Figuring out a way to stop the bandits once and for all would have to come later, once they had some room to breathe and weren't anticipating another attack. She hoped that a well-worded threat from the duchess would be enough to make Kistrin back down, and that the two kingdoms wouldn't go to war over a runaway princess.
I can only hope. Monarchs have started wars for less…
Ciri reached into her pack and started to remove items as she searched for her bottle of Hanged Man's Venom - it was a cruel way to kill, especially because when cut, it made a person's skin burn worse than if they were lit on fire but these bandits weren't going to show them any mercy - and set out several more objects before finally finding the bottle filled with green oil at the very bottom of her pack.
"I see you still have the gift I gave you," Sylvette remarked, pointing to the tiny music box on the table.
"I live out of my satchel so wherever I go, my things go, too."
"Does your elf friend still have his?"
"I don't know," Ciri admitted truthfully. "Does it matter if he does or doesn't?"
"Did I ever tell you the story about those two music boxes?"
"No, I don't think you did."
She didn't like it when her questions were answered with questions but Ciri forced herself to pay attention to what Sylvette was telling her, if only to get her mind off their battle plans for a few minutes.
"When the two music boxes are placed side by side, they play a different melody because, you see, half of the song is missing."
"Missing? What do you mean by that?"
"Half of the bars in the melody were recorded separately and placed in the other music box, with the prince."
"Two halves of one whole," Ciri commented absentmindedly, though it appeared that she was exactly on target, and couldn't help but stare at the princess spinning around and around in the music box to the languid tempo of the song.
The sparkly pink skirts of her dress fanned out, permanently frozen in motion while she reached out for another's hand.
Avallac'h had been given an identical music box as a gift of gratitude for protecting the princess, though the dancing figure in his music box had been a dashing prince who had taken off his mask. His free hand was outstretched, as if reaching for the dancing girl's hand, but sadly, they would never dance together. At least, Ciri didn't think so.
"Two lovers joining as one… it's quite romantic, isn't it?"
"Indeed it is," Ciri agreed half-heartedly even though she felt gutted to learn the story behind the music boxes and didn't even know why.
Just then, they heard a shout from outside followed by loud banging on the door - "open this door right now! I'm here on behalf of the Verdenian crown!" - and Ciri hurried over with her sword in hand, pressing herself against it as if she was trying to keep it from being blown down even though it would hold just fine without her help. Although, if anyone was going to negotiate with these cutthroats, it was going to be her.
It was wishful thinking but perhaps she could even convince them to leave, to believe that Sylvette was elsewhere, however irresponsible that idea was, until they could get the Ducal Guard to arrest everyone and put an end to this madness once and for all.
"Sylvette isn't here!"
"I think you're lying! If I break down this door right now, and find her in there, you're going to be in for a world of hurt, whoever you are!"
"Trust me, you don't want to do this!" Ciri begged. "We can work this out!"
"Who am I speaking to right now? You don't sound like Ruiseart."
"I'm a witcher."
"Did you kill my men? I have to say, witcher, I'm impressed!"
"Like I just said, Sylvette and Ruiseart aren't here!"
"You see, I don't believe you. I think you're lying. I think they're both in the house with you. Otherwise, you wouldn't be there."
Ciri chomped down on her lip to stop a curse from escaping. Was she really that unconvincing, or was this man doubly persistent compared to the other brigands she'd faced?
"I'm sure Sylvette is paying you good money so here's what we'll do: in exchange for my sister, I'll give you four thousand coins. Give me Ruiseart as well and I'll pay you ten thousand coins, which is more than you'll ever get if you turned in Ruiseart for the reward yourself. How does that sound? I know your type can't say no to money."
"You can't buy me," Ciri scoffed.
"Nollan?" the princess suddenly blurted out.
"Sylvette, is that you?"
Ciri grabbed the doorknob and held it to stop it from jiggling, ignoring the pounding on the door coming from outside as she looked to the princess for answers.
"You know him?" she hissed.
"He's my brother! I knew his voice sounded familiar!"
"Great, just great… that's just what we needed," Ruiseart complained.
"Maybe I can talk to him, see if he'll leave us alone."
"Sylvette, it's too dangerous-"
"She doesn't have to open the door but it's our only valid option right now," Ciri interjected. I can't keep killing bandits forever.
"Nollan?" Sylvette called out as she neared the front door.
"Sylvette, is that you? Come out right now! Stop this nonsense and come home with me to Verden!"
"No!" she shook her head in protest even though her brother couldn't see. In response, Nollan kicked the door in frustration and Ciri winced as the door rattled but thankfully remained attached to the hinges. "I want to stay here with Ruiseart! I love him!"
"You don't know what you want!"
"I want to take control of my own destiny, not be Father's puppet!"
"His puppet? You are Father's only daughter and you should do as he says! If he wants an alliance with a foreign kingdom, you have to do your part!"
"So exactly like a pawn?"
"That's not being a pawn! That's-
"That's exactly what a pawn is! You want me to be his pawn in the same way that you are his pawn right now! How don't you see it?"
Ciri glanced over and managed to lock eyes with Carlotta, who looked uneasy as she wrung her hands nervously, followed by Ruiseart, whose grip on his sword's hilt was so tight that his knuckles had turned white. Even Giacomo looked concerned and Ciri could only hope that the door would hold; if it fell, she had no idea what she would do.
"We all have to do what we're told, Sylvette…" Nollan uttered. His voice was so quiet that even Ciri, whose ear was closest to the door, almost didn't hear him.
"And by doing what you were told, you gave up Anastasia to marry that princess from Kovir, just so Father could gain some political advantage over-"
"It's not the same!" Nollan bellowed.
"It's exactly the same!"
"Enough! Nollan, you better calm down right now or we're going to have a problem!" Ciri snapped angrily as she hit the door with the side of her fist in hopes of sending a message.
"Sylvette, please open the door."
"Not a chance! How do I know you won't rush us as soon as I open the door?" Ciri barked.
"You make a fair point, witcher. How can I get you to trust me to open the door? I swear I came alone. I even killed some bandits who were planning on burning the house to the ground."
Ciri didn't answer and teleported outside, finding herself some distance behind Nollan, who, upon hearing her clear her throat, jumped nearly skyhigh and whirled around faster than a hungry Katakan that had found its prey. At least he hadn't been lying and was truly alone, which was a genuinely pleasant surprise.
"You were just inside! How did you get out here? Are you a sorceress?"
"Hand over your weapons," Ciri ordered, ignoring his question.
"R-right. I don't want any more bloodshed." Nollan looked and sounded defeated. He pulled his sword, sheathe and all, from his belt and threw it down onto the cobblestones with a loud clang! followed by his knife. Just to be on the safe side, Ciri frisked him and only then did she no longer deem him a threat.
Ciri took his weapons and then teleported inside the house, tossing the sword and knife off to the side before unbarring the door so it wasn't in the way anymore. Nollan took a step forward, only for Ciri to hold out her hand to stop him and to her relief, he didn't try to push past her and instead, got the message loud and clear that this was how the conversation was going to be carried out, with her serving as a buffer between him and Sylvette.
"How have you been, Sylvette?" Nollan's smile was forced and looked like he was trying to make the situation more bearable, even though it was a toss-up of who was more anxious to press a blade to his throat: Ciri or Ruiseart. She was convinced that she could kill him first, thanks to her close proximity to him and her powers, but forced herself to hold back unless Nollan drew a hidden weapon she'd missed.
Or if Ruiseart lost his composure and lunged for him.
There had been enough killing today. Ciri didn't want anyone else to die.
"Very worried and stressed," she admitted from behind Ciri, sniffling a bit. "We just got home yesterday and bandits already found us this morning. They chased me and Carlotta across the vineyard…"
"What do you mean, yesterday? I thought you were living in Toussaint! That's why I came to get you."
"No, Father has been hunting us for weeks. We were in Velen the whole time until Ciri brought us home. I thought we would get some time to breathe when we ran into her but the headhunters just keep coming…"
"I'm so sorry to hear that."
"Nollan, I don't want to go home to Verden. My home is here."
"I understand that but I can't go back to Father empty-handed."
"Give him this," Sylvette said as she pulled a sword from the display on the wall. She handed it to Ciri, who then passed it to Nollan. "It's Ruiseart's sword."
"You think Father will accept this? He'll have my head on a platter!"
"Aren't I your sister? Don't you love me?"
"I do, but that has nothing to do with this! My love for you won't protect me from being thrown into prison-"
"Nollan, do not fret. Father won't do anything to you, but I fear what he'll do to me if he finds out I'm pregnant with Ruiseart's child."
"You're… you're pregnant?"
Everyone seemed to sober up upon hearing her announcement and Nollan especially didn't seem adamant on dragging Sylvette back to Verden anymore. Ciri stepped off to the side to give the family a moment to themselves to celebrate the good news and was glad to see that the tension was still there but it had cracked and was nowhere near as palpable as before and it was all thanks to the princess' unborn child.
"Fear not," Nollan said sometime later. He kissed the top of his sister's head and smiled easily, saying, "I'll tell him that we chased Ruiseart to a canyon, killed him, and lost track of his body and that the sword was all we could find. As for you, I'll tell him that you were gone when we stormed the house and I don't know where you went. You have my word."
"Thank you for being reasonable," Ciri said.
"Yes, well… I'm starting to see that my father's whole campaign is barbaric," Nollan spat. "Hunting my sister like an animal… as if he didn't get enough wealth, land, and alliances from the marriages he organized for me and our brothers. I'm sorry for the pain that you endured, little sister."
"Thank you for this, Nollan. I shan't ever forget it," Sylvette gushed gracefully.
"Take care, Sylvette. I shall come by to check on you soon."
Ciri stepped aside to give the siblings a chance to embrace and then Nollan left, though not before promising that he would never tell anyone the truth about what had transpired at the Charbonneau Vineyard. Normally, Ciri wouldn't have trusted the word of someone who had been pursuing the girl she was supposed to protect but she could tell that Nollan was sincere. He seemed to care for his sister and to her credit, Sylvette had managed to get through to him when it seemed that nothing else could have made him stop and think .
After Nollan was gone, the first thing Giacomo did was call for the Ducal Guard to report the incident, which caused the vineyard to devolve into a different kind of chaos as the guards took statements and began an investigation into the bandits that had launched attacks all morning. Ciri gave her side of the story and then sat down on the grass just outside the vineyard with her satchel, where she was finally allowed to have a moment alone with the whirlwind in her head.
"Two lovers joining as one… it's quite romantic, isn't it?" Sylvette's voice echoed in her head, the only audible voice in the chaos in her mind.
"Little princess, will you ever reunite with your prince?" she whispered softly as she stared at the dancing girl in the music box.
That was a question for another day, she decided before she packed up her things, climbed to her feet, and made the long, tiring walk back to Corvo Bianco.