Spoiler Alert: This contains spoilers for Sword of Destiny. The story also contains references to events from Season of Storms.
The setting of the story is the back flash in Sword of Destiny / Something More / IV where we learn of Geralt's return to Cintra on Ciri's sixth birthday.
It was in the mid afternoon as Geralt led Roach to leave Calanthe's castle. The sun was warming their backs and a red kite circled overhead as they followed their own, growing shadows to the gate. The queen's premonition that this had been their last encounter was on his mind, when he felt eyes on him and heard light and even footsteps running towards him.
He turned to see the outline of a child hurrying towards him against the bright sun. Geralt could not recall when a child had last ran towards him. Usually, children ran away from him. He restricted his pupils to slits to better see against the light. He was surprised she appeared only five or six, given the evenness and lightness of her steps.
She slowed once he had turned around and waited for her, her eyes widening the closer she came. He had expected her to stop and run away in horror as soon as she noticed his pupils but she did not stop until she stood right in front of him stretching her neck to look up at him. She looked at him mesmerized, eyes ceaselessly moving over his face, his eyes, his hair, the hilts of his swords. Geralt calmly looked back and after a moment squatted down to the the girl's eye level, feeling strange. The feeling was not completely unfamiliar yet he could not put a name on it nor say when he had last felt it.
"You are the white wolf." The girl said with reverence.
"Some people call me that." Geralt replied not breaking her gaze, looking into her large, emerald eyes. Noticing their color, he finally understood. He understood what Mousesack had tried to tell him. This was not a child, this girl was The Child.
She broke his gaze and took off the amber pendant she wore around her neck. The gem gleamed like copper in the afternoon sun.
"This is for you." she said, still fearlessly meeting his slit pupiled gaze.
Geralt clearly saw Calanthe's eyes in her granddaughter's face. Yet, they seemed softer, warmer to him. Her eyes went to his left wrist.
"Is it magical?" he asked. She looked deeply into his eyes again, looking for something, before turning her gaze back to his hand.
"No, that was supposed to be the next lesson - after they came back."
Her voice grew very quiet on the last part. He offered her his left hand and she put the bracelet on.
She looked up, and he noticed that she looked tired.
"I am sorry." Geralt said, wondering how many nights the girl had woken from nightmares crying.
"I'll show you their memorials." the girl said.
She picked some flowers from a patch of meadow, her mousy hair glowing with a reddish shimmer in the afternoon sun. Silently, they walked next to each other through the gate and shortly along the castle's wall to two freshly set graves.
As he'd expected, Pavetta's and Duny's graves were decorated with an assortment of flowers.
The girl put two flowers on each but only stopped shortly.
"There's another one for those whose bodies were not found ..."
She led him a few steps further and around the corner of the castle wall where a tombstone was already set.
Even though he had known, Geralt felt a cold darkness spread in his chest at the sight. He felt the girl's eyes on his face. He read the inscription, read the date and something inside him broke. He fell to his knees and buried his face in his arms on the ground. Before his inner eye, he saw the "Pride of Cintra" being tossed about Kerack's port by the storm again in a completely new light. He clearly saw the crew - vainly - trying to keep the ship afloat.
He felt her kneel down next to him. She leaned her slender body over his back and wrapped her small arms around his shoulders. Her cheek rested on his neck. Somehow, feeling her breath calmed him. After a long moment, he sat up.
Looking straight ahead without seeing he whispered "I was there... I was there and I could not save them."
"Only a fish could have survived those waves, that storm."
He looked at her and felt relief. Only sympathy and kindness shone from her green eyes. She hesitantly lifted her hand and put a strand of his hair out of his face. He saw another amber pendant - identical to his own - shine on her wrist.
"Before they left ... we started a story but never finished. Will you tell me how it ended?"
"I doubt I know the story but I can try."
Hope sparkled in the girl's eyes and for the first time a timid smile appeared on her lips. Then, she surprised the Witcher yet again and climbed on his left thigh and snuggling her head against his chest. She smelled like a young sparrow and stared with fascination at his medallion which was gleaming the late afternoon sun.
"Do you want to touch it?"
"May I?"
"You may."
She lifted her small hand and started playing with the medallion. Geralt could feel it pulsing with her touch.
"So what was the story?"
The white wolf had boarded a ship.
He needed to get down the stream as soon as possible and the starlings on the ship had offered to take him in exchange for his protection.
The starlings bet around the bushes why they needed protection but eventually he managed to make them confess.
They had stolen a vixen's young and feared its mother was on their heels to get her child back.
'Why would you abduct another animal's young - and that of a cunning predator at that?' he demanded.
'The foxes take our young for their children. They should at least once feel our pain' the starlings proclaimed, agitated.
'You are mad to abduct a baby fox.' The white wolf replied.
'Not only will it not give you your young back, you will get all of us killed if you do not return that child.'
The girl stopped and looked up at him.
Geralt swallowed and looked down to meet her gaze.
"Who told you that story?"
"My nanny. Grandma did not like it when she told me stories but I loved them. So she and grandma agreed that when I trained and studied well and behaved I could earn a story now and then."
Geralt could hear the pride the girl took in the stories she must have earned.
"She knew many stories about all sorts of animals..." she continued, sadness creeping back into her voice.
She was quiet for a moment and then seemed to pull herself together and turned to Geralt.
"What happened next? The poor baby fox must have been really scared and alone. Did she get back to her mummy?"
Geralt looked at the sky for a moment and shifted his weight to sit more comfortably.
A feeling of deep peace washed over him as he continued the story:
After some convincing, the starlings agreed to return the baby to its mother.
However, things turned out to not be so simple... When they went to look for the baby fox it lay completely still, not even its chest rose and fell.
The starlings were struck with horror. What vengeance would the vixen inflict on them when she found out that her daughter was dead?
He could feel the girl tense on his lap. He put his arm around her and felt her instantly relax and snuggle deeply into his embrace.
Their only solace was that they were on the ship in the middle of the river, which the vixen could not cross.
The white wolf saw the dead fox and grew somber. 'I will try to defend you.' he said. 'There's already been too much pain and death but foxes are masters of illusion and deception. Let's hope that we can outpace her.'
They sailed as fast as they could but soon the wolf saw the vixen along the river side. She started to conjure up illusions, causing the starlings a lot of distress and leading them deep into a dangerous swamp.
The wolf realized there was no way to avoid or outrun her. They had to confess the truth and hope that she would not seek revenge if he threatened to fight her. So they let her aboard the ship.
The girl's breathing stopped for a moment and Geralt felt her small hand seek the one he had laid around her, their bracelets giving a small ring as they touched. For an instant he withdrew his hand but then placed it on hers.
She exhaled contently and looked up at him. He dared not meet her eyes.
What happened next?" she asked intently.
The vixen stood on one edge of the ship, the starlings cuddled up on the opposite edge in horror.
The white wolf stood between them and explained what had happened.
'I am sorry for your loss' he ended 'but I will not allow you to take revenge.'
The vixen looked at him, her eyes cold. The wolf handed over the baby as a sign of their goodwill. The vixen saw the sincere remorse in his eyes but her anger and pain at the loss of her first child in many summers was immense. Yet she knew that it was not certain if she'd survive to fight the wolf.
Her eyes seething with cold rage, she promised the wolf that she would not forgive him and one day exact her revenge on him. Cradling her daughter's limp body in her arms she ran off.
When the vixen had returned to the shore, her daughter dared to move again. Frozen with fear, she had made herself appear dead and deceived everyone. You see, deception is so innate to foxes that even the smallest instinctively know how to do it. The vixen was overjoyed to find her daughter starved but alive.
Weeks later she went looking for the wolf. She wanted him to see her daughter was well and lived and know that she no longer sought revenge. For the first time, the white wolf was glad he'd been deceived.
The girl sighed contently. Geralt noticed their fingers were intertwined although he could not remember since when.
"There is no situation so bad that anger cannot make it worse." she said, deep in thought.
"That's why we must never allow anger to guide our actions. Revenge cannot return what's lost."
"Yes."
The sky had started to turn pink and the peace he had felt was slowly starting to fade.
"What's your name, lion cub?" he asked, looking down.
"Ciri. And yours?"
"Geralt."
They sat quietly for a while. Geralt tried to memorize the moment and the peace he still felt. Her face, the feeling of her warm body against his chest, the sound of their bracelets jingling against each other with the wind.
Ciri stifled a yawn and after a moment looked up at him, her eyes somehow expressing contentment, fatigue, sadness and a hint of fear at the same time. It took her a moment to speak.
"You will be gone soon." she started, her voice low.
He did not respond nor meet her gaze. He looked down at their hands, still intertwined, slightly tightening his grip. Even now, hoping this moment of peace would never end, he could feel the urge to leave rising in him like the tide.
"Death is dogging your footsteps." she continued, turning her head to rest it against his chest again.
He wondered if she could hear his heart.
"So you can never rest, less she will take those close to you in return for all those you saved."
Reverence and conviction had replaced the sadness in her voice.
His eyes widened and he inhaled deeply but did not respond. He wished his motifs were as noble as the girl believed. That this was what drove him away.
She looked up at him and he met her gaze again. Again, she worked up her courage.
"Will you hold me until I fall asleep?" Ciri half mumbled, half whispered the request, her voice shaking slightly, her eyes not leaving his.
He drew her closer, putting his second arm around her and tugging her head under his chin, deeply inhaling her sparrow scent and committing it to memory.
"You will be gone when I wake." she stated, drowsiness entering her voice. With her free hand she grabbed hold of one of his strands of hair. "I am afraid I will think this was a dream."
Geralt did not respond but rocked her slightly. Ciris breathing slowed to match his heart beat and soon was fast asleep.
As the sky was slowly changing color overhead he carefully got up, cradling the girl in his arms causing a bird behind them to fly off. Geralt felt it grow cold as a wind picked up, carrying the night air from the shadows. Roach, who had been grazing lazily, looked up. The mare was smart and apparently fond of him. She walked towards him and they made their way back to the castle.
Outwardly, Calanthe was seething. Mousesack, whom she had learned to trust over the years, had assured her that Ciri was safe. Still, they had searched the whole castle for her and not found a trace.
Now, the girl had a great fondness of hiding and an uncanny ability to find secret corners in the castle. However, at the latest when meal time arrived the voracious child had always magically appeared - until today.
Secretly, Calanthe was worried. No one had seen her granddaughter since the afternoon. She hadn't been seen at her parents' graves nor had any of her playmates in the settlement around the castle seen her. Eist and some of his men had taken the horses to search for her in the prairie outside the castle but hadn't returned.
Calanthe decided to look for the druid again who was clearly hiding something from her.
She found him on the castle wall, looking down. "Your majesty." he greeted without turning towards her.
"Mousesack. I have great trust in you but the sun is about to set and my patience at an end."
"The Witcher has found her and will be at the castle's gate in a moment." Mousesack replied, nudging the queen to look down on him carrying the soundly sleeping princess.
Calanthe paled. Then sighed with deep relief. Then she grew cold.
"Welcome them and show him the way. I will see to it that the search is called off."
She turned to leave, then added: "He may stay the night but must leave before she wakes. If he wishes give him 1000 crowns reward."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Mousesack replied and went to the gate. He had it open as Geralt approached. They went up to the castle quietly, Mousesack leading the way through sheer endless corridors to the princess's chamber. Geralt put her down on the bed but hesitated to get up. Her hand was still holding onto a strand of his hair. He took the ribbons from his shirt sleeves and fastened his hair above and below Ciri's hand, then cut the strand with his dagger.
He turned to face Mousesack and followed him out of the chamber and through the corridors. Mousesack was the first to speak.
"You may stay the night and the queen ordered me to reward you for bringing her back."
"I am leaving this hour."
"Why? The girl has had nothing but nightmares for weeks. You meet against all odds and orders and she falls into peaceful slumber in your arms..."
"Mousesack. I know." He looked at the druid and the druid fell silent.
"But I cannot stay. I can feel death lurking behind me. As long as I stay away, she is safe here. At least for now."
"And she deserves to stay here - in a loving home, not the hostile wilderness.
With people who are admired and bowed to rather than hated and spit at.
Cared for and loved by people who can always put food on the table, pay for teachers and clothes.
She deserves to be cared for by people who don't return covered in kikimora guts ... or worse. "
Mousesack nodded.
"If she ever needs me, do not hesitate to call on me."
"I won't."
They had arrived at the stables. Mousesack went to get Roach, secretly sliding a purse into the saddle. Mousesack put his arms on the Witcher's.
"Take good care. And come back. Leaving her here may be the right choice now but she needs you."
Geralt nodded ever so slightly. Mousesack was not sure to which statement.
"When you meet again, she may not remember this encounter." he said sternly. Geralt understood.
"If Calanthe thinks it best... Maybe it is. It's more difficult to miss what one does not remember."
Geralt looked at his old friend. "Thank you. For protecting her, raising her. For ... everything."
Mousesack knew what Geralt could not say.
The first stars were visible when Geralt galloped through the Cintran gate. He rode hard the whole night and the whole day and barely stopped until he reached Nazair.
Mousesack went back to Cirilla's chamber. He had spent most nights there since the news of the shipwreck had reached them. After her parents' and her nanny's death the girl had been plagued by nightmares and insomnia. Now she was sleeping soundly, the strand of white hair held tightly in her hand.
After a moment, Calanthe entered the chamber. Mousesack bowed. She motioned him into the corridor. He knew what she was about to ask of him. He wanted to refuse but knew he had stretched her patience too thin to be able to do so now. He reentered the chamber, placed the witcher's hair in a stuffed animal and put it into her arm. Then Mousesack cast the spell. The girl hugged the toy tighter but continued to sleep soundly. He stayed another hour in the girl's chamber.
He left, relieved that there were things magic could not undo.