Chapter 21: Taken

"Cirilla, it's time to wake up," Yennefer's soft voice said from somewhere beside her. Peeling open her heavy eyelids, Ciri looked around and was shocked to see that she was back in her large room at Yennefer's castle. The room looked entirely the same, not a thing out of place after their four months away. The mage was standing over her, dressed in a simple blue skirt and shirt, her hair hanging in long waves down her back. "Finally, you've been asleep for three days."

Ciri sat up in shock. "What? Where's Geralt and Jaskier? How did we get here?"

"I portalled us here shortly after your explosion," Yennefer explained, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, and looking at her with sad eyes. "Geralt and Jaskier came to take their horses but have moved on in their travels. They have promised to stop by to visit when the time allows it."

Sadness draped over Ciri like a cloak. So, it wasn't a dream that Geralt had abandoned her; it was reality. She looked at Yen with sorrow clear in her pale blue eyes. "Why do I get the feeling he is not planning on returning?"

"Geralt makes all the wrong choices in his life," Yen sighed, her hand moving to push her hair over her shoulder. "He always has and will probably continue to do so. He will return, but I cannot tell you how long that will be. Sometimes years pass between our meetings; time holds no meaning for him."

"Yet I will age… I could be an old maid by the time he returns."

"No, actually," Yennefer turned to look at her with a more uplifted expression. "Your powers will no doubt have extended your life to that of a mage. You will age normally up until your late teens and early twenties… then you will slow. Decades will pass, and you shall change very little. It is both a blessing and a curse."

"Really?" Ciri gapped, looking at the mage in shock. How weird it would be to suddenly stop aging, and to grow old so slowly. Another thought occurred to her. "Mages can't have children. Does that mean I…?" she trailed off, not sure if she would be ok with not having children in her lifetime.

Yennefer flinched back, and Ciri knew this was a tender subject for her. While the mage had Bran now, it probably still hung on Yen's mind that she would never bear kids of her own. Nothing to pass on to anyone. "I do not know. You bleed, unlike mages, so that alone would suggest that you could have children someday. But there is no way to guarantee that."

Ciri nodded, not too broken up on that subject right now. As of this age, she certainly had no desire for kids; she was still one herself. The idea of not seeing Geralt for years though… it dragged the sadness back down on her hard. She went to ask Yennefer another question, when a loud explosion blasted from outside.

Yennefer flew to her feet in shock. "What the hell?" she exclaimed, running out the door with Ciri on her heels. Bran was being watched by a servant in Yen's room, so after a quick check to ensure they were alright, they booked it to the front hall, where the front wall of the castle was smashed to the ground, where rubble smoked and flames licked at the banners that hung on the other walls.

A line of men in clad in black armour stood atop the fallen stones, swords drawn and ready to attack, as a mage, Fringilla Vigo, and army commander Cahir Mawr Dyffryn, stood at the front. Ciri's heart froze in terror at the Black Knight and the wicked grin he sent in her direction.

Yennefer lunged into action, her servants coming out of the halls dressed in armor to defend the castle, as she casted a spell at Fringilla. The dark mage easily cast the oncoming spell aside and grinned wickedly at Yennefer. "We are here for Princess Cirilla of Cintra. If she comes, we will leave, and you will be left alone."

"Like fucking hell!" Yennefer shouted at her. "Attack!" she shouted at her servants, whom all immediately swept forward to attack the Nilfgaard troops. The sound of metal clashing rung through the air, the whirls of swings and stabs echoing in the open hall. Ciri watched in horror as blood was spilled, people falling to horrific wounds as they slashed each other open.

Yennefer turned to Ciri. "Run! Portal out of here, now!" she screamed at her.

Ciri was frozen in shock for a moment, and frozen for a second too long when an arrow stuck into her shoulder, knocking her off her feet and onto the stone ground. A loud scream tore out of Yennefer's lungs as she whirled around to face the attacker. Blood pounded in Ciri's ears as she looked down at the arrow sticking out of her shoulder, blood pooling around the shaft and staining her dress.

The pain hadn't registered; everything was happening far too fast for her mind to keep up with. Not long ago she had been asleep, unaware of this terrible onslaught about to ensue. Her eyes dragged away from the arrow lodged into her, and looked at Yennefer, who was locked in combat with Fringilla. A dark figure was walking up towards her, a huge, obnoxious, black feather sitting in the middle of his helmet. Cahir was grinning at her.

Her vision was blurring, and she vaguely thought that she had fainted way too much as of late. She struggled to stay awake, wanting to fire whatever magic was in her to blast that evil piece of filth from the world, but the pull was too strong. Her mind drifted to Geralt in these last moments, certain that Cahir was going to draw his sword and kill her where she lay, sprawled across the ground with the dignity of a street urchin.

The sounds of men dying and swords clanging faded off into the background. Her breathing seemed awfully loud to her own ears, as she allowed her head to fall back onto the floor. Cahir was now out of her line of sight, as narrowed as that was, but she knew he was still stalking towards here, most likely ready to make the final blow. Perhaps she would be unconscious before he could make the strike. Wouldn't that be nice?

Perhaps if she died, she would be reborn. She had always heard stories of such hope, that maybe there was no afterlife, but rather just an endless circle of lives. If she could be reborn, she hoped it could be as someone who could be in this Geralt's life. The man was damaged and lost and needed all the people in his life that he could get. Ciri wondered what her death would mean to him. Perhaps nothing at all. If Yennefer died today, he would surely be more upset about that, then the death of the child bound to him.

She pictured his face in her mind. The light tone to his hair, the way it framed his face. The golden eyes, which burned with emotion when he thought no one was watching, hooded by a strong brow. His nose, which was completely proportional for his face, unlike his teacher Vesemirs', and his lips which sat so perfectly on his face… Ciri wished she could see him one last time. Perhaps finally understand why she felt so drawn to the man.

As the darkness finally sucked her into its cold grasp, her mind went completely blank as she was taken away. The noise around her was completely gone, and she was oblivious to the dark knight as he scooped her up, and had a portal cast for him to escape with her.