Chapter 40: House of the Undying – Part Three – A Prison of the Mind
Forward: Editing credit to Rainsfere.
…
Kaer Morhen – Late Morning – Ciri
Ciri made her way down one of the winding stairways that connected between Kaer Morhen's upper floors and main hall. Between the lack of maintenance and the many recent attacks over the years, it was a wonder the keep was still standing. Course…she had been the closest to destroying it when she lost control of her power, though everyone tended to ignore that detail. Reaching the main hall, she glanced at the varying tables spread around which had dwarf workers eating an early lunch.
"Ciri! Up and about at last!" A bellowing voice spoke up, drawing her attention to a far table. Zoltan Chivay gave a big grin, the dwarf waving her over to an open seat. Considering the dusty appearance, he just finished some repairs somewhere in the keep. "Heard you arrived late last night. Pretty much slipped in without notice."
"Kind of easy when you can teleport." She teased back as she sat across from the dwarf, picking off the left-over ham on a center plate. "Been a year since I've been on the Path off in Kovir. No Nilfgaardians to look out for and plenty of work for a Witcher." She looked around the hall, scaffolding all about to fix the holes in the ceiling of the upper floors or cracks in the walls. "I can say Kaer Morhen is looking better than last time I visited"
"Aye, though it's been quite the undertaking, even with me pulling a few strings for the builders." Zoltan remarked, gesturing to the dwarves who were heartily chatting to each other. "Much more trustworthy than the local humans. No issues working for Witchers so long as the pay is good."
She nodded in agreement, deciding to focus on a new topic. "So how are things in the Northern Kingdoms, with Nilfgaard around?"
"Heh where to begin." Zoltan sighed. "Temeria so far is the strongest among the kingdoms, thanks to them being allow to self-govern. Empire may be watching over their shoulder, but they got their hands full managing the other kingdoms. Sure the taxes and new laws can be troublesome, but I'll take them over the threat of a nonhuman pogrom."
Ciri nodded in agreement though felt an odd question in the back of her mind. "Is my fath-…The Emperor still ruling? There was a lot of talk of who'd succeed him before I traveled to Kovir."
"Bah…you shouldn't worry yourself about." Zoltan dismissed with a short wave of his hand. "If the Black Ones war over who sits on the throne, then let them…so long as they keep in the south."
While she didn't remark back, there was a gawking feeling in the back of her mind, like a conflicting memory trying to claw up to the surface of her thoughts. It was about her father, of her last meeting with him and a request he had given…nearly begged considering. As she tried to remember those words, a low ache creeped to the right side of her head, making her give a sigh before touching the spot.
"Uh…you feeling alright Ciri?" The dwarf questioned, noticing her short moment of discomfort.
"Huh…fine. Must be some morning drowsiness." She excused as the sore feeling quickly faded. "A little fresh air will do me good. Besides, don't want to keep Geralt waiting."
"Heh fair enough. I'll see you later once I get this lot sorted out!" Zoltan jested at the dwarf workers, getting up from his seat to join up with the others to discuss work plans.
Getting up from her seat, Ciri moved on to the sturdy doors that lead outside to the courtyard. Pushing them open, a gust of cool mountain air blew into the hall. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, she smiled before looking to the right of the inner yard, towards the wall where pendulum was set. She could fully see the recruits training on the dummies, teenaged boys and young men wielding practice blades and maces while a gruff man in Witcher armor paced along watching. Considering the raking claw scar across the right side of his face, it was easy to recognize Eskel.
"Have to put more step to your attacks! Momentum, that is the key!" The Witcher instructed before noticing Ciri approaching. A faint smile showed on his face before looking back to the recruits. "Alright, that should be enough for now. Round up!" Quickly the recruits lined up, a few glancing and muttering as Ciri moved to stand beside Eskel. "A little introduction is needed. This here is Ciri, our first graduate in a long time. Don't let her looks deceive you, she could thrash half of you all at once with one arm tied behind her back." The remark drew chuckles from the group which only died down when they saw the serious look in Eskel's eyes. "Anyway, about time for lunch and then chores. Keep still needs a lot of cleaning and I'm sure none of you want to stick to dusty cots for another week. So hop to it!"
A few annoyed groans came from the recruits, though no one openly argued as they headed towards the keep. It did bring back memories for Ciri since she had to do the same, though by herself obviously. As she glanced among the recruits her heart nearly stopped for a moment as she saw a familiar face among them. An almost sickening feeling struck her gut, as if getting punched by an armored fist. "Skjall..." She muttered in shock before feeling the same ache in her head, memories of the kind Skellige man flooding her thoughts. How he had found her after escaping the Wild Hunt, helping her recover from her injuries and then giving his life for her.
"Ciri, is something wrong?" Eskel spoke out, the scarred Witcher showing open concern. "Paler than usual…and you got the look of having seen a ghost. Not…umm…having one of those visions are you?"
Taking a few breaths, she calmed herself again, feeling she simply saw a Skelliger who looked a lot like the late warrior. "No just…thought I recognized someone." She excused, giving a small smile to show she was fine despite Eskel's doubtful glance. "Coming here is just…bringing up a lot of memories. Even a year free and on my own can't change that."
The Witcher nodded as the two began to move. "I know what you mean. After the Wild Hunt and what happened to…Vesemir, it's hard for any of us to stay here." He sighed, shaking his head. "I'm not like Lambert, thinking Witchers or some replacement to us isn't worth it. We are needed, even if the world spits at our feet for it anyway." I believe in that and Geralt does even if he denies it."
"Guess that's why he insisted you be the new Grandmaster to the School. From what I've seen, you're doing the right thing."
"Heh…just matters if I can get any of these aspiring recruits into shape. Half got the footwork of a rock troll and the other half think they'll be the next White Wolf. They got dedication, so given enough time and I'm sure we'll forge real hunters out of them."
Ciri smirked at Eskel's claim, feeling confident considering his capabilities. Among the remaining Witchers of the Wolf School, his talents rivaled Geralt, even if he didn't have the same renown to his own name. The two made their way through the interlocking yard that separated, passing by the old ballista that was set at the defensive spot overlooking the next gateway.
"Can't believe you still have this old thing sitting here. You know you can't really use it considering its position." She jested.
"Consider it on the list along with twenty other things." The Witcher dryly joked back before they reached the gateway. They were on an outlook that had a view of the entry courtyard which had received the most attention. Much of the walls here were patched up, the varying storage shelters and sheds rebuilt along with a sparring circle. There were tables set around for eating and resting, with one having three people she had missed the most since beginning the Path.
Geralt sat close beside Yennefer, the white haired Witcher chuckled as the beautiful black-haired sorceress whispered something to him. Across from the two was Dandelion, the colorfully dressed bard seeming to be busy tuning his lute while muttering what sounded like music lines.
"Should it be stir…or wake? Needs to flow off the tongue right…" The bard remarked before noticing the way his companions glanced up. "Ah, our living legend arrives! Slayer of the Wild Hunt and destroyer of the White Frost."
"Sadly titles you won't hear in taverns, unless you start blathering such stories." Ciri teased before giving Dandelion a hug. "Jests aside, it's good to see you again." She then glanced over to Geralt and Yennefer, shifting over to give both of them a wide embrace. "As for you two, what have you been doing over the year?"
Geralt gave a small smile to his adopted daughter, patting her on the shoulder once she pulled away from hugging them. "Taking a much needed break from the Path and getting out of the Northern Kingdoms for a while." He answered back.
"We took a trip to Zerrikania." Yennefer added. "After so many years hearing tales of those lands, it was about time we went and see them."
"Heh, the closest I got was its surrounding desert. That is a trip I wouldn't like to repeat." Ciri chuckled. "So what was it like? My guess is half of what Dandelion tells isn't true."
"Hey! I can assure you my sources were quite reliable…for the time." The bard grumbled.
Geralt smirked at his old friend's remark. "I'd say he was mostly right. There were warrior women, temples dedicated to the warship of dragons and of the most exotic markets in the world."
"Normally everything sold there is twice as much in the local markets. Think I'll have to do my shopping there from now on." Yen playfully added.
"So what about you Dandelion? How is the Chameleon and Priscilla doing?"
"The cabaret has been doing quite well since the Church's influence has been subdued. At least I don't have preachers and witch hunters constantly harassing my customers. As for Priscilla, she's mostly recovered since the attack, though still needs practice honing her voice." Despite the light hearted tone about his lover, there was a show of affection in the bard's eyes. "Really we should all go visit the Chameleon, have a big party for the first anniversary of the inn. Even working on a new song for Geralt."
"Ugh…I thought you weren't going to mention that yet." The Witcher grumbled, making Eskel chuckle.
"Most people would crave such fame Wolf, but the more you get the more frustrated you become."
"Toss a coin to your Witcher…" Ciri started to sing with a sly grin, making Geralt give a playful wave of his hand to silence her.
"Alright you've all made your point." Geralt sighed, though he did have an amused look. "So what to do you think Ciri? Think you could delay going back on the Path when spring fully returns?"
Despite the casual invitation, there was a sense of impact to it. Ciri glanced down slightly in thought, mind feeling a stirring conflict in the back of her mind. "I…shouldn't linger too long in the North. I'm sure my father's informants are still active in Novigrad, so the last thing I need is drawing their attention." Indeed just thinking about the Empire drew that uncertainty to her, that bottled up promise she made to herself.
"Surely we can work something out." Yennefer remarked. "An illusion to disguise you or just teleporting in should be suitable enough. I'm sure you can agree with that approach."
The word 'agree' seemed to echo in her mind, trying to push down her questioning thoughts aside. If anything she felt strange gaps in her memories, such has how did she defeat the White Frost and the true duty she had to fulfill. "No…this isn't right…" She muttered to herself. More memories surfaced, that of Essos, Daenerys and Jorah. The fact that Geralt was there in a far of part of the world, fighting another battle beyond her sigh.
"Ciri…you need to calm yourself." Geralt spoke, a firm tone hinting his final words. In fact everyone at the table all seemed to tense, staring gazes unblinking and bodies seeming rigid.
Ciri shook her head, shaking off the pressing daze 'Geralt's' voice had. "No. This isn't right…" He started before Dandellion leaned in to whisper to her.
"Yet this is what you want." His voice that spoke through him wasn't the same, being too smooth and soft to his normal tone. "No longer bond by destiny...Shackled to a throne…Being with your family…"
It was true she wanted nothing more than this, a life where she could be free with those she cared for, following her dream of being a Witcher. But over the time being with Geralt preparing for the conflict with the Wild Hunt along with visiting her father. She knew that even beyond stopping the White Frost there was the fact that Nilfgaard needed a ruler, someone who could change its darker aspects, to better the lives of all under its influence across the Continent. It was a responsibility she simply couldn't avoid no matter how much she wanted to.
"I want that…so much…but I can't." Ciri muttered, keeping her gaze low. Despite not looking to the others, it felt like they were looming over her, judging her. "I still have a duty to fulfill and I can let my own desires stop it."
"Honorable…"
"…Selfless…"
"…Stubborn."
A smirk hinted her lips hearing those words, amused by them. "You're damn right on the last one." Snapping her gaze up though, her confident gaze faulted as her false family was warped. Their skin a deadly pale and eyes a piercing cold blue, just like the horned king that she had faced. Even Kaer Morhen had changed as snow and frost covered everywhere, reminding her of the Wild Hunt's attack.
With feral cries her 'family' lunged at her, Geralt and Yen half scampering over the table for her while Dandelion and Eskel came in from the sides. Despite the shock, she drew her sword which she sunk right into Geralt's chest, but it didn't even phase him as he pushed on to impale himself onto it. She lashed out with her left fist at Eskel to strike across his jaw, though like his fellow Witcher didn't even flinch despite the force she put into the blow. The unfeeling creatures grasped her with their cold hands, tugging her down to the ground as they tried to pile onto her. She struggled with all her might, yelling out in fury as she tried to force them back. Quickly she felt her power surging through her, bright blue energy humming off her skin which seemed to make her false family flinch in pain. Despite this they forced her off balance, knocking her onto her back, though instead of landing onto frost covered grass it felt like swampy tar.
"Fuck!" Cursing out, Ciri's struggling doubled as her false family dragged her slowly into the tar like ground. Her mind was in conflict, knowing that is couldn't be real despite the horrible sensations she felt. Those cold hands pulled her body into the tar, her legs trying to kick only to be stuck in the goo while her thrashing arms held down until engulfed by the tar. "No…I won't…give in!" She lifted her head up as she was pulled down to her neck, eyes glowing with energy as she tried to will something…anything to fight this illusion. Yet nothing happened as she gasped out, tar filling her mouth and nose before everything became dark as she was pulled into the depths.
…
Somewhere Within the House of the Undying – Jorah
"CIRI!" Jorah's voice echoing through the bare stone hallways with only silence following. He growled lowly in frustration, confused over how he could seemingly be separated from Ciri by only looking away for a split second. "This damned place is alive…" He muttered to himself, holding his torch forward to light the way.
Already he had lost track of time, unsure if he had been wandering around for only minutes or hours. The one constant was the gut feeling of being watched, at times thinking a shadow in the corner of his eye moved or a figure just at the edge of his torch light. The warlocks were playing with him, trying to make him lose his composure.
"Ser Jorah."
The calm male voice made the knight turnabout, his torch out and sword angled in a defensive angle. Behind him stood a plain looking middle-aged man, dressed in similar colored clothes that the Twins had. His hands were behind his back, seeming unarmed and quite calm despite the angry glare Jorah gave. Behind him was a open doorway which hadn't been there before, the passage well lit unlike the others he had roamed through.
"Where are they?" Quickly Jorah's sword was up by the man's throat, though no fear hinted the warlock's face.
"They are safe and in the company of the Grand Warlock, discussing important matters to everyone's future." The warlock stated. "However…we wish to earn your trust as well."
An amused smirk crossed the Northerner's face. "From what the Twins showed they didn't seem to think highly of me." The edge of his blade grazed just under the warlock's chin. "I'm not some sellsword you can buy."
"Heh…I believe you don't understand what you truly want Ser Jorah." The man smiled before seemingly moving out of his sword's reach without taking a step. Jorah had only blinked, giving the mystic the chance to use whatever illusion he had to slip away. "Enough with the hostility. Let me show you what I mean." Already the warlock was walking down the lit hallway and towards a wooden door at the other end.
Jorah gripped his sword tightly before glancing behind him, only finding smooth stone blocking his back. Despite the warlock's manner it seemed he had no choice right now. Stepping forward, he neared the doorway before speaking again. "You don't know anything about me."
A smirk crossed the mystic's lips. "If anything we may know you better than even yourself." One hand pushed the doorway open, revealing a medium sized chamber that seemed to be decorated. Veiled fabrics were draped about, partly obscuring the room's surroundings. The air had exotic scents in the air ranging from sweet wines, fine perfumes and soothing herbal smoke. "We know you long for the days of past. When you were honored for your heroics and skill. When you had wealth and comfort. When you had love and companionship."
Jorah walked deeper into the room, putting down his torch to grip his sword in both hands. He frowned at the warlock's words which echoed around him, coming from one side of the room only to jump to the other with each sentence. The soft blowing of wind to his right made him turn around as a veiled curtain parted. Behind it was the finest collection of plate armor and knightly weapons he had seen, the blade even being Longclaw.
"With us we can help you regain your title, your birthright. You'd be recognized once more as the honorable knight you were and lord you were meant to be."
His gaze was set on Longclaw, remembering the times he had wielded it. Never had there been a finer weapon, so light and razor edged that even plate armor yielded to it. For a moment he moved to reach for it, only to stop as he realized how he wasn't deserving of it. He remembered how he had forced men, petty criminals onto slaver ships with the blade at their backs. His hand clenched, eyes closing before he backed away.
"No…I gave up that right…I failed that duty." He muttered before turning away, moving further into the room.
The warlock gave a curious hum at his refusal, a curious sound. "Then what of wealth? With it you can enjoy every luxury you've longed for; earn the influence of any you deem worthy."
The clinking of coins suddenly followed, another curtain parting to show a literal pit of shiny gold coins and gleaming cut gems. Such riches was something only heard of in tales or legends, wealth that no king could ever hoard in countless lifetimes. Slowly he stepped closer, an urging to tumble into such a treasure to bask in it. Yet that thought seemed wrong…almost planted by how crazed it sound. Had wealth truly given him happiness? No…because no matter how much he collected it never was enough for her, never enough to please Lyneese. Money and luxury had never been his desire…but hers.
"Stop it…" He growled, shaking his head as he backed away from the pit of wealth. "…Stop putting such thoughts in my head!"
An amused laugh filled the air. "Really Jorah? What we're simply doing is showing you what you want." The mystic answered back. "These are the truths in the back of your mind. You simply have buried them, denied them for so long."
While Jorah shook in dizzy feeling from his head, he heard a low sensual giggle behind him. Facing that direction he saw a large bed with three slender figures relaxing across the sheets. The thin curtains hid them, but he already knew who they were.
"You are a simple man Jorah who has such base desires." The warlock spoke out. "Yet this is one of humanities oldest urges. Passion and lust. So understandable"
The final curtain parted to reveal the alluring trio laid across the bed. Ciri, Daenerys and Lyneese, the three wearing revealing silken tops and skirts fitting for those serving in a harem. Lyneese was stunning as the day he remembered, being the oldest of the three with such a curvy slender figure. With Dany he had become used to her often wearing simple garb while among the Dothraki, her youthfulness always tempting to every man who saw her. Lastly there was Ciri, her body the most athletic and scarred, a true warrioress beauty. Those dazzling green eyes locked with his as the woman from another world slipped off the bed, moving was such cat like grace as she approached him.
"I could be all yours." She slyly purred. "Every pleasure…every desire you could sate with me. Never would you be abandoned…lonely…" Her hands touched to his breastplate, the way she looked having such longing to feel his strong body. "This is what you want. This is how you see us."
Those final words felt like a gut punch to Jorah, his gaze wide in shock. If that was true then he didn't feel any acceptance to such a truth. When he had first come to serve Targaryens he was little more than a spy for Varys, simply observing them to judge how much of a threat they were. Daenerys quickly earned his loyalty…or perhaps it was desire as the warlocks shared. Did that mean he didn't truly believe in her ideals of bringing order and unity to Westeros, only doing so in the hope to win her affection?
Then Ciri, a woman of such independent strength and determined will. She was unlike any woman he had met in his life; someone he knew he could trust watching his back in a fight along with sharing his thoughts freely with during moments of calm. That kindness made him feel an affection for her, that deep emotion he had first felt in the days being with Lyneese. This wasn't how he thought of her, even if these mystics claimed otherwise. He stared into 'Ciri's' eyes, sadness showing in them as he felt the pit in his stomach. What he truly knew was that he was unworthy of her because of his past…because of his secrets. That was one truth that not even the Warlocks could change.
Giving a sigh, Jorah reached one hand to touch across 'Ciri's scar.. "No…I don't deserve you…" Suddenly his hand shifted to grasp at her throat, shoving her back before his sword arm stabbed forward. A shocked male grunt escaped Ciri, who in the blink of an of an eye changed into the warlock who had lured him into this trap. A wicked serpentine dagger was in the man's hand, angled right at the exposed side of the Northerner's armor. "You…never should have worn their faces!" Withdrawing his blade, the warlock staggered back, blood soaking his black robes and spewing up from his gasping mouth.
However Jorah didn't have much time to stare at his slain foe as 'Dany' and 'Lyneese' shrieked like monstrous birds, hands now claw like and teeth razor sharp. The blind anger at both himself and the warlocks shoved any shock he would have felt as he lunged at the fake women, drawing his shield off his back. He knocked 'Dany' down with the shield who was flung a few good feet by the forceful blow. 'Lyneese' clawed at him, making him sidestep about before slashing down at her exposed hands. It cut them off with one move, 'Lyneese' howling out in a male voice before slumping to her knees looking at her bloody stumps. Jorah didn't hesitate though as he rushed to 'Dany' who was staggering to get up, only for him to plunge his sword right into her heart.
The knight closed his eyes at that point, panting as the conflicting mix of adrenaline and wreaked emotions passed through him. The only other sound was the disarmed warlock's crying and whimpering, which soon subsided as he most likely passed out from the blood loss. At last Jorah opened his eyes to see that he was no longer in the lavish chamber by what could only be described as a room of torture. Racks, pillories, shackles and even an iron maiden were set around. No doubt all were used in combination with the warlocks illusions to lure intruders to a horrible end. The warlocks that had played the role of his female companions were armed with assassin knives, waiting for the right moment for him to drop his guard. The pit full of riches was now filled with spikes, with even a few bones littering the pit. The stand where Longfang had been now had an open wooden box with a viper in it, a venomous one that surely would've killed him if he had been bitten.
"Damned illusions…" Jorah muttered to himself, his anger putting aside the ache in his skull. He could only imagine what dream world or nightmares the other warlocks had put Ciri and Dany into, driving a sense of urgency to him. There was another passageway across the room, the only way forward beyond the way he had come from. Taking an iron torch set on one pillar, he hurriedly went down the long hallway, a furious determination driving him to face whatever horrors awaited him.
Somewhere in The Northern Realms – Evening – Ciri
Ciri gasped out, eyes snapping open before quickly sitting up from the bedroll she was resting on. Her hand reached for Zireael, ready to draw it while she took in her surroundings. She seemed to be in a large camp in the middle of the wood, big enough around half a dozen people considering the number of tents and bedrolls. Off to the side she could hear laugher and the tuning of a lute, the voices muttering were familiar.
"Ugh…was that a nightmare…or a memory." She muttered while rubbing the side of her head. Her mind was spinning as she remembered having become a Witcher and visiting Kaer Morhen, only for her friends and adopted family too-. Suddenly she groaned as the ache in her skull grew intense, making her grit her teeth slightly as it quickly faded. No…she was with them, the old gang. "The…Rats?" She muttered, confusion and shock hinting her words. Already Ciri knew something was very wrong right now as she got up, strapping her sword across her back as she moved towards the light of the campfire.
Parting the brush in her way, a wide look of shock showed in her eyes seeing the group gathered around the fire. They were different since she last saw them, older considering how long it has been, yet she recognized them all. As Ciri walked into view the gang shifted to look at her, laughs and smiles following.
"Finally awake Falka!"
"Could have damned slept through a war."
"Worried you'd miss out all the fun!"
The Rats…Giselher, Asse, Iskra, Kayleigh, Reef and Mistle. The group of robbers were all dressed in colorful fine clothes, a show of their taste of fashion along with their desire for wealth. She remembered how their style drew so much attention, even having young villagers who tried their hardest to dress like them.
Giselher was the one trying to work the lute, more like strumming a few strings in a simple tune. Of the Rats he was the oldest looking of the group, having a shaped short beard and longer hair with a headband keeping it back. She remembered why he had been the gang's ringleader, having that look of authority about him. Sitting nearly on his lap was Iskra, the lone female elf of the group. Her elven fairness and dark makeup made her quite stunning though wild at the same time.
Kayleigh sat off to the side, focusing on getting his sword cleaned up. His light brown hair was dragged slightly over his face, partly hiding the amusement of their ringleader. Ciri…had never liked the man considering one encounter early in joining the gang, though when she tried to remember it she oddly couldn't. Sitting close by was Reef, a young former Nilfgaard soldier just relaxing back watching his companions. It was interesting how he and Kayleigh were close companions, having been serving in opposing armies only for Kayleigh to save him despite that. The two decided the warring wasn't worth it, looking out of themselves then later on the rest of the gang once they joined it.
Then there was Asse and Mistle, the two talking quietly to each other with cheerful grins. Out of the whole group he was the most hardy, considering his old life as a blacksmith before the war with Nilfgaard changed that. Lastly was Mistle, a former noble girl who also lost everything during the war. She had become quite the tomboy in that time, having her straw colored hair cut short and having even a stud piercing on her nose. Truly a roguish beauty…a beauty Ciri was drawn to.
"Heh was worried I'd have to go over there and warm you up." Mistle teased as the young woman got up, slipping her arms around Ciri's waist before stealing a kiss from her lips. "You exhausted yourself trying to find us. Then again we're a tricky bunch to track down."
Her playful tone eased the shock from Ciri, drawing a small smile from her. "Just…wanted to see you guys after so long. Been ages after I left."
"Heh, it's a shame really. Between the latest war and Nilfgaard settling in, we've been enjoying ourselves quite well." Giselher remarked. "Iskra was pissed though, called you a coward for running."
"Hey! It was just the heat of the moment back then!" The elf jabbed her below in her lover's side, making him grunt and give an amusing strum from the lute he fiddled with. "She had her reasons and at least she told us before heading off."
"We've all had our personal issues, Falka simply had to take care of them all on her own." Kayleigh remarked bluntly. "Point is she's back, even if it is just to catch up after all this time."
Asse nodded to that. "So what have you've been going through Falka? Considering that scar on your face and all the rumors we've heard from Nilfgaard. Talk of you being some long lost princess to the whole Empire."
Reef smirked at that. "Always knew there was something special about her. Despite being such a tomboy she had the hints of the more refined life about her."
"Hah! Like you would know Reef! You wouldn't know proper noble etiquette even if it slapped you in the face." Mistle jested even giving a regal haughty tone to her words. "I always suspected Falk…Well…Ciri to be of noble stock, though she did tell me that much before having to leave." One of her hands reached out to gently hold Ciri's.
"If I'm right I promised I'd return in a six-horse gilded coach with a retinue of courtiers at my command?" Ciri chuckled with a sly grin. "Sadly I can't follow up on that promise. Had to go through…well…extreme lengths to fake my death."
Giselher smirked at the remark. "Sounds like a long tale, though better to share another time. One issue is should we keep calling you Falka or Ciri?"
The question made her think for a moment before shrugging. "Really Falka is just a cover name. Would be best to keep using it in public, else my real name draws attention." She paused for a moment in thought. "Though why do you ask? You make it sound like I'm rejoining the gang."
"Why not?" Iskra remarked back with a smirk. "Its time The Rats make their comeback, so we need everyone on hand. Besides, I bet you've learned plenty of tricks since you went off on your own."
"Tricks…well…I guess you could say that." Ciri scratched the back of her head meekly, since it was going to be hard to explain her powers if she ever decided to reveal them. "Fact is when I heard about you guys, I thought it was just a rumor since people claimed you died fighting Leo Bonhart."
The group of rogues looked at each other before laughing out at the claim. "That old fart! Hah…you should have seen his face when we jumped him at Jealousy." Mistle boasted.
Asse nodded. "Bastard was a smart one for sure. Had his own ambushed planned, thinking we'd be too hotheaded and rush right into town. Didn't expect us to come from different directions."
"Even shanked in the side he fought like a man possessed. Think we all earned a scar or two from that." Kayleigh added.
Giselher nodded to that. "After that we had him hung up in front of the inn just to show off. With Leo dead, everyone started to get cold feet on us. One look at our faces and fine clothes…well…people practically threw their money at us!" The whole group laughed, though Ciri's was more muted.
For her this seemed off, a growing sense of contradiction surrounding her. The story about Leo felt off, remembering how the Rats seemed confident in just their numbers when going off to face him, not relying on any strategy beyond that. The more she thought, the more memories of those days started to resurface. She remembered going back for them, trying to dissuade them on their attack or try to fight with them. Yet…at the town there was only blood and death…a pair of cold eyes glaring down at her full of cruel intent. The shock for a moment had her heart racing, her breathing picking up slightly which Mistle noticed.
"Ciri?" She softly questioned, a concerned look on her face. One hand gently rested on her thigh, just over the rose tattoo was. "You have a weird look in your eyes, like you've seen a ghost."
When Ciri looked at her she felt a sinking feeling in her gut. "I…think I am…" She muttered, drawing a confused look from her companion.
In fact as Ciri's mind drifted back to her time with the Rats, she began to remember things. Despite the comradery of the gang there was a darkness to them all, a blind hate to the world…them lashing out with cruel violence to anyone who opposed them. They had murdered…she had murdered others…innocent people who just happened to have more than them when they crossed paths. She remembered how they had pressured her into her first kill, the twisted fascinating watching someone bleed to death, struggling to cling to life. Being so young and angry at her life it had was easy for the Rats to encourage such dark urges. Just the realization on how she had been during that time made a nauseating feeling come to her.
"Come on Ciri, are you going to accept the offer or not?" Iskra smugly remarked, making Ciri look up. Her former companions fine clothes, hands and faces were marked in blood though they didn't seem to notice or perhaps even care. When she looked to her own hands she saw them bloodied as well as her growing guilt showed.
"I…I can't…" She muttered back, glancing down then up again to see the Rats surrounding where she sat, looming over her. Their faces held cheerful expression, only to her it seemed little more than a mask just to ease her silent distress. One by one they spoke though to her it felt like a single voice spoke through them all.
"Just accept Ciri. It's not that hard."
"Be with us."
"Live free once more."
Mistle's hand on her leg softly squeezed, drawing Ciri's attention to her. Unlike the others, she showed a true sadness in her eyes, almost pleading. "Please...stay with us. Stay with me." Her other hand reached out to caress her face, thumb going across her healed scar along her cheek. "Remember what we said before we parted?"
Ciri softly nodded. "Yes…I love you." A faint smile crossed her lips, a sad one. "We both were damaged, lonely despite how we tried to hide it." A deep sigh escaped from her. "But I have to let you go. I have to accept what has happened."
"Please…you can't!" Mistle pleaded, her hand gripping at the shoulder now. A hint of frustration showed in her eyes, in all the Rats' eyes.
"Why do you refuse!"
"Why do you resist!"
"You can have anything you want!"
"A perfect world with those you care for!"
Those voices echoed in her head, their anger growing as they tried to smother her growing resistance. "Because I know…deep down what is real and what's not! My memories are my own no matter how you try to twist them! Both the good and bad, even those I wish to deny! I accept it all!"
At that point the gang had fierce faces, eyes pure white as they seemed ready to attack her. Even Mistle hissed at her as her hand grasped at her throat, trying to silence Ciri and hold her down. This time though she didn't yield as she grasped that arm, eyes glowing blue as her power flowed. The rest of the gang lunged at her in a feral manner to stop her.
"Goodbye…"
She let out that built up power, a blinding flash that consumed everything even sound itself. Time and space wiped out…then…reshaped again. The brightness faded into darkness, the forest clearing gone and replaced with a silent void. The only things that remained was the log she sat on, an amusing feature that had remained. As she looked around, confusion quickly came to her. She had wanted to break free from it all, but seemingly this wasn't enough.
"Just how deep do these illusions go…" She cursed, shifting where she sat, rubbing her hands along her head and through her hair. "Damn it all…what more do I have to do…try…"
"Because there is no escape, girl." A gruff male voice spoke out from the darkness, a voice she hadn't heard for a long time…and knew for certain was dead.
An amused scoff escaped from Ciri, shaking her head. "Really now?" She gazed up to the black empty sky. "Is this your next trick Kai! Trying to scare me into submission! Just another one of your lackies in disguise!"
The voice laughed out at that claim. "Oh nothing that crude girl. If anything I'm surprised you haven't figure it out yet." Heavy boots could be heard in front of her before there was the lack of flit and steel. Suddenly there was light as the campfire hidden in the voice was set aflame once more. "Ah…much better." The figure sighed before sitting back on a dark colored rock, the shuffle of leather armor and metal buckles could be heard. "It's been a long time…hasn't it brat?" The man chuckled, a thin grin showing on his face.
Leo Bonhart, formerly the Continent's most infamous bounty hunter. He was dressed as expected of a sellsword, studded leather and light gambeson which fitted over his slim toned muscled form. Around his neck were three Witcher medallions on one chain, a wolf, griffin and cat. His face was aged with the man being into his fifties, having short cut grayed hair along with full sideburns along his jaw before shaping up into a short bushy walrus mustache. His most striking detail though was his eyes, the large shape reminding Ciri of a fish with the gray color in them having a cold dead look.
Ciri kept a calm stern expression as she stared down the man, one who brought so much suffering and anger in her life. While she hated Eredin for his constant pursuit along with harming those close to her, he at least had motivations in doing so even if it was for his and the Aen Elle's gain. But the man in the darkness…everything he had down was for his own sadistic enjoyment or gain. There was a long moment of silence, Leo resting one elbow onto a knee to lean in closer to the flame. One eyebrow raised as time passed, curiosity then annoyance hinting his face.
"What…going to give me the silent treatment, girl? This isn't some illusion, a fake imitation of your 'friends'." He growled before beating his other hand to his chest. "I'm the real deal, a ghost that has been haunting you in the very back of your skull."
For a long moment she let that claim sink in, keeping that cold passive look. With her thoughts clear of false memories she knew 'Leo' was exactly like she remembered, not acting out of character like everyone else she had met between these illusions. "So what are you meant to do? Scare me into submission?" She scoffed. "I'm not the same girl you tormented…and who killed you back at Strygga Castle."
"Heh, you did surprise me during that fight. Should have known better following you on those beams." The bounty hunter chuckled, even though he had a hateful scowl. "Should have accepted your mercy at the end but…habits die hard as they say."
Indeed she had chosen to spare him despite everything he had done to her. It had been a point to deny the dark side she had drifted towards, both from the Rats and from his twisted 'lessons' while his captive. "And now you're little more than dust in whatever is left of that place. Forgotten."
The remark made a low chuckle come from the man then a loud maddening laugh. "Forgotten? Hah, you have it very wrong Ciri. Thing is I'm very much immortal." He smugly boasted. "The people of the Continent whisper my name still, even thinking I'll show up one day. Then of course there is you."
"Me?" Ciri scoffed in confusion.
"You'll never forget me for certain. After all, did you forget who gave you that sword on your back?" He chuckled as she glanced over her shoulder to look at the gnomish gwyhyr. "Besides I showed you a few tricks, made you tougher even if it meant nearly killing you. Then again you were already quite the killer thanks to your 'friends'."
In a way he was right about it all. While Zireael had been given to her to fight in the arena he took her to it has also been her most reliable form of defense. She lost count of how many monsters or members of the wild hunt she had cut down with the fine weapon. Even though she favored the Witcher training she learned, the brutal lessons pushed onto her by Leo did help at times. Then with the Rats…she didn't need to explain to herself any more about the flaws she gained from them.
"Are we getting to a point on this matter?" She growled at him. "Because so far this is going nowhere, and I have this room to escape."
"Hah! Room? Quite foolish to believe that are you?" Leo laughed out. "No… Kai, this warlock knows that a simple room isn't going to hold you. Thing is you're in a unique prison that is a part of you." He raised one hand up, tapping the side of his head. "Up here, inside that stubborn head of yours."
Hearing this drew a hint of shock from Ciri. Such magic in her world was one of the most advanced, even more if the manipulator didn't wish to ruin the target's mind. Illusions were a simpler means of entrapping someone, they could be resisted and broken. A mental prison was far more trickier.
"I can see the gears in your head turning. Am I lying? Maybe giving a half-truth? How do I get out?'" He gave an evil smirk tauntingly at her. "No more advice from me girl, except I recommend you sit there like a good captive and behave."
"So…you're just playing jailer then? Ironic." She muttered, clasping her hands together in thought. At this point her captors were done trying to appease her, thus leading to this void world with one of her most hated foes. Just when she thought she had some control it had been nothing more than a deception. She glanced up at Leo, the man silent while having an amused look in those empty gray eyes, enjoying her struggling to think of a plan. He always gave that look when she struggled…which made something click in her mind. "So you're just fine being stuck here, just a fellow captive in my own mind?"
"Well it beats being an afterthought in your head." He chuckled back. "Besides, so long as you suffer I'll wait here till the end of time to keep you trapped."
Ciri shook her head though, drawing a puzzled look from the man. "Leo…Leo…that isn't how I remember you." She spoked back in a low mocking tone. "Sure you worked for whoever paid the most or shared your love for cruelty, but you always boasted about being no one's lap dog."
While Leo had a smirk there was just a subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Is there a point to this Ciri?"
She nodded. "You claim you're Leo, not some fake like everyone I've met here. The real Leo Bonhart wouldn't submit to the Warlocks like you do, not when you have me at your mercy."
The man grit his teeth slightly, glancing down then up at her. "Shut up…" His voice low, barely a whisper.
"What? You make all sorts of claims about me yet can't handle what I have to say." She smirked back in amusement. "You know maybe I was wrong about you. Perhaps time has made me forget that you were nothing more than a cowardly thug, not someone who could beat a Witcher much less three."
"SHUT UP!" He yelled at her, standing up suddenly from his seat. "I am Leo Bonhart! I'm the fucking Witcher slayer, the most feared man in the continent. Not even Nilfgaard's finest swordsman could best me!"
She remembered the stressful moments back in Castle Strygga with Geralt and his loyal companions trying to find her while battling Vilgafortz. Of how she at last met Cahir who had been one of the first to hunt her, though not out of malice or cruel intent like future pursuers. "Yes…and despite that you died to a young girl, even after she showed mercy to you."
Again Leo growled in anger, gray eyes flashing with raw emotion as anger bit through him. "Oh I can quickly change that!" He drew his long sword, holding it up across the campfire. "We can settle this here and now. A proper rematch. No pesky beams for you to dance around or your wicked power at your command." A low near insane chuckle came from him. "In fact that does sound fun. Fighting each other forever in this pit in your mind. So come on Ciri draw!"
Yet she didn't, just sitting there staring up at the man. "No. I have nothing to prove, much less to an echo of you." She calmly stated. "I'm not that same angry girl. I've changed since then and no amount of guilt or shaming will matter to that." Sighing, she relaxed back on the log, watching at how Leo trembled in brewing anger. "So go on. Kill me. You've never had an issue killing someone who's unarmed. With me you just have a burning reason to make me bleed." She even traced her thumb across her throat, the same place she sliced his when he made that last ditch move to kill her.
The last mocking gesture had him step over the fire; sword raised to strike. "I should in fact!" He threatened before grunting, raising his left hand up to his head. "No…I can't. They…SHUT UP!" Suddenly he lashed behind them then to his sides wildly. "I AM LEO BONHART! I'M NO ONES TOY! SHUT UP!"
Why is this happening?!
A memory has never acted this way.
She's affected it's directions, playing off the memory!
Hearing those whispering voices, Ciri now knew why Leo was acting this way. His true mentality that she knew was conflicting with the orders of the Warlocks. It just mattered if she could push him to do what she wanted…and not get killed by it. "So what is it going to be Leo?" Her remark drew his gaze back at her, the man panting as his face showed a near feral look to it. "Be what you are…or let someone else decide that for you?"
The man's body shook and twitched as if having a seizure, struggling to step closer to her. "I am…Leo…!" He muttered, the memory of the dead man clinging to that name. "I serve…only myself! I do…I take whatever I want!" Those gray eyes bulged wide, blood trickling from the corners of his eyes while giving a wild mad grin. "Going to kill…you…eye for an eye as they say!" Once more he raised his blade, arm trembling as if some invisible hands were trying to hold it back.
For a moment Ciri felt fear inside of her, years of fighting instinct telling her to protect herself. She wasn't sure how much was just her habits speaking out or just another manipulation by the Warlocks. Smothering that urging, she kept her stern gaze on Leo as he roared out in fury, slicing his blade sideways across her throat. The pain…the burning feeling she felt as steel cut through flesh and muscle, warm blood thickly spewing forth from the open wound. Both hands grasped at it in reaction, coating them red in mere moments. It took all her effort not to fall off her seat, keeping her wide eyes on Bonhart.
"Yes! How does it feel Ciri?! You get to experience how I…and…" He started before stammering, hand grasping right over his heart. His bleeding eyes rolled back, the memory of the man gasping before tumbling back into the black void surrounding them, seemingly consumed by it.
Ciri meanwhile continued to gasp through breath, heart racing as adrenaline pumped through her in a desperate drive to keep her alive. Once more her mind was slipping on what was real or not. Closing her eyes though she relaxed, shutting out the pain choking her.
She is insane!
We have to pull her back, she will die!
Be ready, we must dull her mind quickly before-
…
Suddenly she felt air flood her lungs with her next breath, making her gasp out. Both eyes snapped open, staring up at the dull grey ceiling that was part of the House of the Undying. She laid on some kind of smooth flat altar made of cold stone, a quite uncomfortable bed. Flickers of blue color though lit around her, swirling energy coming off of her body. Right now her throat ached as if it had been sliced, making her cough and gasp as she weakly turned her head to the side. Off to her right she stared up at the pale Pyat Pree, the warlock standing a few steps back with his hands outward, a look of intense concentration on his face. Yet when he saw her move, shock clearly showing in his inky blue eyes.
"Oh gods…" He muttered in low terror.
At that point Ciri felt raw angry go through her, the intense power that had been building up inside of her surging out. Her body shook then arched on the altar as all that energy was let out with a resounding thunderclap, a shockwave of raw magic bursting from her. In the blink of an eye Pyat was flung back like a ragdoll, he and two other voices surrounding her also screaming out. What followed was a sickening crush and smack the warlocks were slammed into the nearby walls, bodies no doubt broken from the impact they had been flung at.
"I…did it…" Ciri gasped, wheezing for breath as she struggled to shift up to sit. One hand slipped on the edge of the small altar, making her roughly tumble to the side. Cursing to herself, she blindly grasped her hands about until pulling herself onto her knees. With her vision blurry she could barely see her surroundings though could hear low shuffling, as if someone…or something was crawling close by. "Sword…need…a weapon…" Glancing around the altar she just saw the glint of steel, recognizing it as her sword. Reaching to grasp it, she used it to help push her body up to lean against the altar. By now her vision was clearing and breathing becoming more normal, though she felt exhausted.
"Amazing. Your willpower is unlike anyone I've met in all my life Ciri."
The voice of Kai made her look out into the dimly clit chamber, in the direction the dragging sounds came from. It was like the time before he pushed her into that mental prison, speaking more into her mind than through her own two ears. Despite her exhaustion she snapped to attention as she gripped her blade with both hands, leaning back to the altar for support.
"Enough tricks…Kai." She panted out. "You messed with my mind…making fake memories…imitations of people I know. It's a violation…I can't forgive."
"I did not wish to go to such lengths Ciri, however you gave me no choice. I have underestimated you just as you have towards me. The moment I entrapped you within your own mind your body…guarded itself. The Elder Blood has so much potential…"
"Enough stalling! Where is Dany…where are the dragons!" She yelled out before coughing from her sore throat.
"Right here. Safe as I have told you."
Four braziers lit up in front of her, revealing another stone altar. Unlike the one she had been on it was covered in silk sheets and pillows of blood red color. Surrounding it where the three dragons, each sleeping in a sizable bedding with a chained collar shackle around their slender long necks. Ciri's gaze though focused on Daenerys who laid on the altar 'bed', the girl still dressed in the white dress she had the night she disappeared. The peaceful look on her sleeping face reminded her of the tale of Sleeping Beauty…at least until she noticed the creeping horrors just lurking in the dark.
"What have you done to her and the dragons?" She demanded.
"Simply put her into the same state we tried onto you." Kai answered out calmly. "She accepted the dream so willingly. As for her children they are simply resting, minds at ease until their mother is...properly attuned."
As more lights lit up, Ciri could see the lanky creatures that lurked around the stone bed. They could only be described as a boney corpses that crawled on their hands and knees, their emaciated forms grabbed in faded exotic garb…familiar clothes. Their exposed skin was a violet blue color like the Shade of the Evening, while their eyes and long finger nails a light blue. A dozen of them huddled close to Dany's altar, leaning in as if whispering to her despite their dried lips never moving. At that point she realized who these lowly creatures were, the Undying Ones. When she had first 'saw' them they had simply projected what they looked like in their prime. Soon more lights lit up the hall, revealing more of the withered creatures resting on silken pillows or surrounding a lone larger figure at the far end of the hall.
"Now do you see what we've become? Minds trapped in undying bodies, having slowly been eaten away over three hundred years." Kai's somberly spoke. "We had no choice. Our knowledge too important to lose or to freely share in fear it be misused."
The figure in the back shifted from where it sat, leaning more into the light to reveal their features. Despite being withered like the other Undying, Kai was very much different to his disciples. His skin kept that faded green tint and his eyes still shone that golden color. His purple robes clung around his thin form, which while seated still seemed to have greater strength than the other Undying.
Taking in this horrific sight, Ciri shook her head. She could only feel pity for these people, these mystics who clung to life despite barely being human. "I can't give you my blood Kai. Even if I understand your plight…the risk is too great."
While the husk of a man couldn't form an expression any more those eyes conveyed emotion clear enough. A sad disappointment, no hint of malice or anger to it. "I do not wish to harm you any further Ciri. But as I said before…I will do what must be done for the good of my order and for the world."
Staring down at Kai, Ciri gripped her blade as strength was returning to her. "Yes…and so am I." Pushing off the altar she had been leaning against for a strong running start. All she had to do was get to him, end this man's mad suffering. The Undying in her path crawled away from her path, not wanting to be trampled in her charge.
"Brave and foolish."
Kai's arm reached out, bone like hand spread wide. Suddenly the whole room seemingly flipped upside down, making Ciri gasp out as she nearly tripped as she stopped her charge. That hand then twisted, the room suddenly returning to it's proper position, making her slam to the ground. She knew the room wasn't truly turning in such a way, only her perception being violently changed to seem so. Despite the dizzy feeling she staggered up to her knees to try to get back up.
"I've been tolerant with you. Holding myself back to avoid senseless harm. Yet it seems only force will get through to you." Kai coldly stated, angling his hand so the palm faced down to the ground. "Now…would you please drop your sword." The thumb twitched…and her own hand moved with it.
"W-What…" Ciri looked to her hand to see her thumb move on its own. She clenched her hand only to grunt in pain as the muscles in her hand seemed to resist what she wanted to do.
"As strong as your will is your mind is exhausted. Open to be manipulated by more…physical means."
Again his hand moved and her own obeyed, fingers pulling from the grip of her sword. Ciri growled as she tried to resist, her left hand grasping at her right's wrist as it shook. Suddenly her index and middle finger bent back suddenly, snapping which made her howl in pain as they were broken. Zireael clattered to the floor while she bit back sounds of pain, not wanting to show weakness.
"The body is so fascinating. The mind linking each part together link a complex web. It makes you wonder how far our forms could be pushed with enough effort."
"I don't…need a sword…to stop you!" She growled, eyes starting to glow as her power flowed through her. Always she had been warned of willing her abilities through anger since it made things unpredictable, but she had few choices.
"My disciples…please help calm her."
That simple command had the countless Undying look right at her, those inky blues eyes having a focused intent. Suddenly there was a ringing in her ears then that familiar whispering she had heard within the mind prison. One voice…two…four…they doubled as the whispering became a chorus of a tens of voices. Both hands grasped at the sides head as the voices grew, smothering her concentration, making the building power dim.
"Shut up…stop it!" She growled loudly out while staggering about, feeling so many minds flooding into her head. There had been times when she suffered mental attacks from the Wild Hunt and mages, but this was tenfold in strength. The Undying simply were too numerous, too honed in this form of magic. Sweat formed on her brow while her legs shook as she could barely stand now.
"Most would go mad from this. You continue to impress." Kai raised his other hand, flexing it into the same position as the other. "Now come closer. It is time we end this pointless conflict." Each finger became arched and bent, like he was pulling strings to a puppet.
There was a twitch in her right knee as it bent on its own before raising her leg up and forward. Even her foot angled to finish the step. The left leg then began to do the same, her body giving slow clumsy steps forward. For her it was horrifying as she could feel her muscles clench painfully, nerves pinched by unseen tweeters. "No…I won't be your…plaything!" Ciri twisted her torso, using the momentum to cling herself hard to the smooth ground. Her lack of focus made her slam hard onto her left shoulder, a low crack following along with a hiss of anguish. From experience she was certain she just dislocated her shoulder.
"You're making this harder on yourself Ciri. I will at least tend to that injury."
Despite trying to lay down on her front, her back arched to force her to sit on her knees. Then her right arm shook, limply flopping onto her limp left shoulder. She bit back a whimper as her broken fingers cracked more to bend, partly resetting them into place until grasping her shoulder. The grip was too rough as her nails dug in before her arm jerked forward. There was a snap and pop as her shoulder was set, the following pain making her vision go white for a moment and gasp deeply for breath. Both hands pressed firmly to the ground, pushing her up onto her trembling legs which she had lost all feeling to.
"No more delaying. As you said it is time we finish this." Two of the Undying beside him shifted as each held an object, one a straight knife and the other a large chalice, both made of what seemed to be obsidian and covered in odd runes. "The time of the Undying's return has come. Your offering to us will be honored for ages to come."
…
Notice: Sorry for the two month wait on this one, I can say this has been the hardest chapter to do considering the mind play involved. Mixing so many characters even for short moments was much trickier then I thought. Quite the cliffhanger here but expect next chapter to follow up in a more timely manner and conclude the House of the Undying story arch. Things will return back to Westeros as well for the first major battle of this crossover along with much more.
As always share your thoughts on the forums, reviews or a PM!