The Witcher 3 Wild Hunt fanfiction
A Different Path Taken
Chapter 2 – The Return to Tir ná Lia
Several portals opened on the outskirts of Tir ná Lia, their blue-ish glow casting a cold light, contrasting of the reddish glow of the fading sun that now seemed more like a dying light—a promise of the soon to come end. The one all of the Aen Elle dreaded so much, the one the King of the Wild Hunt had sworn he'd stop.
And so most the important portal opened within the city walls, close to the royal stables, where few besides the stablehands and Eredin's personal cavalry usually passed by.
The King of the Wild Hunt was the first to emerge, his grip on the object of his Hunt still unforgivingly brutal and strong as he pulled Lara Dorren's descendant along.
Caranthir followed several steps behind them, with hounds of the Wild Hunt at his heels and warriors in his wake, yet his gaze too was focused on Zireael.
Ciri had not given up on struggling in Eredin's grasp. She had not given up on attempting to yank her arm out of his iron grip—yet it had all been useless. And the journey through the Frost—although not very long since Eredin had made sure they'd arrive shortly so she wouldn't freeze to death—had left her exhausted. Tired. She panted heavily, her body shaking with cold, but she still attempted to pry Eredin's hand away from her.
And then all of the sudden, the pressure on her arm disappeared, and she found herself thrown to the ground, so fast and abruptly that she barely had time to support herself on her elbows. Ciri grunted; she could see Eredin's boots, and she could feel his disdainful gaze on her. She panted heavily, her limbs numb from the cold, her body aching from exhaustion…
Eredin gave no second thought to tossing her to the ground like a rag—he had grown sick of her endless attempts to get herself out of his grasp and her incessant cursing or complaints regarding him and what he'd done to her friends. He'd done nothing to them. Yet.
A grin made its way on his lips underneath his mask as he regarded his Hunt, now in his possession, on his lands—the lands he'd make sure she'd never again escape. Satisfaction coursed through him as he looked at her, weakened, freezing, now at his mercy and yet unwilling to show weakness, but she'd soon learn obedience. And he'd be known as the King who saved his world from annihilation, the one who'd bring the Aen Elle to a new world underneath no threats…
He glanced at his warriors and gestured towards the Child of the Elder Blood, and almost as soon as he gave the unspoken order, two soldiers of the Wild Hunt grabbed Ciri by her arms and hoisted her up, holding her before their King.
She yelped from the sudden movements, yet her glare was anything but lacking in strength as she met Eredin's pale blue eyes.
"Lock her away." The King of the Wild Hunt ordered, his cold gaze bearing down into Ciri's for a few moments before he turned to face Caranthir. "She's not to be left unsupervised." And with that, he walked away with pride so clear in his demeanor, without a glance back, without remorse…without any emotion.
"You'll regret this one day, Eredin!" Ciri called after him, but he seemed to pay no heed to her. And before she could say anything else, before she could unleash her power, she saw Caranthir step in front of her, his posture determined as he held out a hand. She struggled in her captors' grasps, yet Caranthir spoke words unknown to Ciri, sending a blast of barely noticeable cold air in her direction…and she felt her limbs turn limp as her mind went blank. Everything turned to darkness.
Far in a distant world—the same world Ciri had left behind, the world she had grown most fond of—the several rays of suns pierced the clouds to shine over the fortress of the wolf.
Not long had passed since the last icicles caused by the White Frost at Kaer Morhen had melted, but neither Geralt nor any of his allies had slept or left the fortress. There was no victory, there was only a great loss, and there was no time for rest.
"Damn it! I shouldn't have left them take her." Vesemir said through gritted teeth, banging his fist against the table as he stared angrily at the wooden surface.
"You did all you could, Vesemir." Geralt said sadly, leaning against one of the walls, his wolven gaze stuck to the dark floor.
"We were heavily outnumbered." Eskel began, holding a bundle filled with ice against his bruised temple. "The Wild Hunt expected a battle, they were prepared and organized." His voice was full of disappointment and weariness as he let out a heavy sigh.
Geralt pushed himself away from the wall, walking to the far right wall of the room, then strode left again with unusual tension and heaviness in his he glanced at everyone in the room before he once again returned to staring at nothing in particular.
"Geralt, let's keep calm." Yennefer began, taking a deep breath herself. "Ciri is…safe for now, but we have to find a way to free her from Eredin." She said, forcing herself to believe in her own words, forcing herself to remember that Eredin's plans did not involve her dying, or at least not before opening the Gate of Worlds.
"And how do you suggest we do that, Yennefer?" Vesemir asked wearily, yet it was a rhetoric question. "I doubt the Wild Hunt took her anywhere in this dimension." He sighed. As much as he wanted to track them down, he had no illusion—the Hunt traveled to take, and took back to their homeworld.
"We need to think of a way." Yennefer said, failing to conceal the urgency in her tone as she stood up. "Only Ciri can travel between dimensions, but maybe we can ambush the Wild Hunt the next time they come. Maybe a small number of us can get through their portals." Her gaze traveled throughout the room, across each ally, each person who had fought for Ciri's safety before she looked at Geralt as he spoke.
"Yen, even if we could get past them unnoticed, we'd not be able to withstand the Frost." He said sadly, as if he wanted to believe otherwise, yet he had no strength to do so.
"I could cast a shield. A small number of us could get through." Yennefer replied.
"Don't get me wrong, Yennefer, but you're exhausted." The sorceress glared at the eldest Witcher. "We all are." Vesemir added as his eyes flickered across the room, lingering on Geralt before once again stopping at Yennefer. "The Wild Hunt's magic is too powerful for you to withstand alone, especially in their own portals."
"He's got a point." Geralt replied reluctantly.
"Fine, then what do you propose we do?" Yennefer's voice held a sharper edge—the sorceress was clearly offended, and Geralt couldn't blame her. They were all on edge. They were all tired, all worried for Ciri.
"Avallac'h—maybe he can help us." The White Wolf suggested. "He knows the Aen Elle better than any of us."
"Think he's truly on our side?" Vesemir raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know what to think." Geralt replied, turning to look at his mentor. "I mean, I sure as hell don't trust him, but right now I couldn't care less what his intentions are, so long he can help us get Ciri out of there."
"Geralt…" Zoltan began. "Don't get me wrong, I care about Ciri, but bursting in after those buggers in their own lands, after how they came…not sure it's a good idea." The Dwarf warrior scratched the back of his head in uncertainty as he averted his gaze.
"What do you suggest, Zoltan?" Triss asked softly.
"A plan, a strategy. We need to strike when they least expect, and end it there." Zoltan replied, clearly determined. His gaze traveled over all his friends—and individuals he did not know like the man standing across the room—a human dressed in blue next to a young woman wearing a rather revealing outfit. Zoltan knew neither of them, but he respected them.
Geralt silently agreed with his Dwarf friend. They needed to put an end to the Wild Hunt, they needed to kill Eredin, otherwise they'd never know peace. Ciri wouldn't know peace.
"How do you propose we do that, Dwarf?" Geralt heard Vernon Roche ask. "These are monsters, worse than specters." He said it with contempt—not so unusual for the former Commander of the Blue Stripes when he spoke of his enemies, or the enemies of his allies. "You can't even find them."
"We don't know how to reach them, but we're pretty sure where to find them" Geralt replied, looking up at Roche.
The former Temerian Commander sighed. "I'm afraid I'll have to step out of this. Going after them is a suicide mission, Geralt."
"You can't leave now!" Hjalmar pitched in, his voice disbelieving and rather accusing as he stepped forward.
Vernon Roche turned to glare at the Skelliger, but the White Wolf spoke before he had the chance to do so, "Roche might be right, Hjalmar." Geralt replied. "Their lands are dangerous and so are their portals, and we can't count on numbers when it comes to getting Ciri back." He then turned towards Roche and Ves, giving them a subtle, grateful nod as he said, "Thanks for coming, Roche."
Roche responded in a similar manner, "Good luck in finding your ward. And be wary of the kingslayer." He then turned to his subordinate—his once second in command, the one who had ignored a direct order. "Ves, let's go." He said as he began heading towards the exit of the keep.
"Well, I ain't afraid of a bunch of knights in skeleton armor and their king," Letho began. "So I think I'll stick around." The large, broad witcher crossed his muscular arms across his chest as he watched Geralt, most likely expecting an answer—one that the other witcher was quite certain Letho didn't care about.
The White Wolf only nodded as a response before he turned towards the others.
"How do you plan on finding the Wild Hunt's portals?" Lambert asked, his voice, as usual, laced with irritation.
"We don't know yet." Yennefer replied, somewhat thoughtful as she rested her chin against her palm.
"Eredin won't be bringing Ciri back to our world so soon." The eldest witcher stated. "I kind of doubt he'll even bring himself." He added with a shrug.
"Think he'll interrupt his monthly activities?" Geralt raised an eyebrow. "I mean, shortly before collecting Uma I came across a contract some Halflings had put up on an "apiarian phantom". Turned out it was a hound of the Wild Hunt who'd gotten separated recently." He explained, glancing at all the people in the large hall.
"So we know their secondary focus are still villages." Triss concluded thoughtfully. "Strange…seems not even his pursuit of Ciri stops Eredin from destroying lives." She said with a tint of disappointment in her voice.
"I strongly doubt anything can." Yennefer replied. "Eredin is cruel, he doesn't spare anyone…. And this is only the beginning. If he managed to harness Ciri's power, he might just be unstoppable." She said grimly, but she only looked at one person. Geralt. She looked into his golden eyes with her violet ones, and the White Wolf—her lover, and the one who knew her better than anyone ever had—saw her worry. He saw her dread at the thought of Ciri's power being harnessed for such purposes…and he understood it.
"Which is why we gotta stop them." Geralt concluded, letting his arms fall to his sides as he came to a halt, casting a quick glance across the room, meeting the eyes of all his allies, before he started again, "Best thing we can do for now is try to find them, anticipate where they might strike. We do this by finding a pattern. How do they choose the villages they target? What do they have in common? What is it that interests them most?" He explained.
"Good idea, Geralt." Vesemir said, and the White Wolf thought he heard a hint of pride in the eldest witcher's voice. "Any idea where to start?"
"I'll go to Velen. Seems they targeted it often, and maybe I can speak to some locals." Geralt replied thoughtfully. "It's also worth investigating east of Novigrad—the halflings said they saw the Wild Hunt Ride across the sky there." He saw Lambert raise an eyebrow, in interest or question, he didn't know for sure. It was a doubtful lead, that much Geralt knew, but it was all they had. Better than nothing anyway.
"But first we need to talk to Avallac'h." Yennefer interjected. "Don't get me wrong Geralt, I do trust your tracking skills but we need to move fast. Figuring out these patterns based on some long-since trampled villages might take weeks, months." There was something in the way she spoke that seemed to imply the idea would turn out useless in the end. That it was no real lead, only a cold one that would lead nowhere.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Yennefer's right." Vesemir replied, glancing at the sorceress—though her expression remained passive.
"Fine." Geralt agreed as he let out a sigh. He didn't trust the Elf one bit. But Ciri had…it had to count for something, at least.
"I'll go check on him, see if he's awake." Yennefer said as she turned towards the general direction of the room they had placed Avallac'h in.
"I'm coming with you." The White Wolf was quickly at her side, and she gave him the briefest of smiles before the two of them walked away from their allies and towards one whom they did not know what to call…
In distant, unreachable lands, in a narrow room with cold, dark stone walls and a bed made of straws, Ciri's eyes slowly opened, her eyelids inexplicably heavy. She could remember the battle at Kaer Morhen, she could remember stepping through the portal with Eredin…she had threatened him. She had tried to escape…but Caranthir had put her to sleep with some spell.
"Damn it!" She pushed herself up from the hard ground, her limbs and body aching as she forced herself to stand. And to her surprise, she found herself behind bars, surrounded by walls, alone in a prison cell that felt suffocating—that felt…as if a powerful spell lied upon it. And as if that wasn't enough, she soon became aware of the shackles enclosed around her wrists…and the loose chain binding them together. It did not restrict her movement much, she realized, but if it came to a fight….
Ciri wasn't quite sure where she was, but she assumed Eredin had taken her to his kingdom. The same place she had been a prisoner of so long ago.
She took a deep breath, deciding to clear her mind—she would solve nothing by letting her many emotions take hold of her.
She focused her power, trying to get out, trying to teleport somewhere—anywhere—in her own world, at the foyer near Tir ná Lia, but it was useless. Her power did not work—it was as if it was suppressed by something, neutralized by a spell too strong for her to penetrate. Whether it was the prison or the chains, or both, she did not know.
She yelled out in frustration, resisting the temptation to kick at the walls surrounding her. She hated the situation. Hated Eredin. But more than anything, she feared for her friends…there was little comfort in the knowledge that only she and the Wild Hunt could travel between worlds, especially when she knew the lengths to which her family would go for her…and the lengths to which Eredin would go to have his way.
She took a deep breath and went to the bars of her cell, her eyes searching for guards…and it didn't take long to find them. Of course she was heavily guarded. And of course none of the many Wild Hunt warriors stationed outside her cell had bothered to check up to see how she was feeling even though they'd most likely saw her pacing and heard her cursing. Typical.
Just like last time, she was nothing more than a tool to the Aen Elle, only this time, Eredin had reason to do his worst. Ciri didn't exactly fear him—or at least, not when it came to herself. He needed her alive.
Through the bars—which, she noticed, were also enforced through powerful magic—she saw two of her guardsmen speak in hushed voices. She didn't understand them, mostly due to them speaking their tongue and being so far away. But considering the pace at which one of them took off, she assumed he was going on an urgent assignment.
But that assignment had nothing to do with her well-being.
She looked at her cell; there was nothing special about it, other than the magic that kept her from using her power, of course, but it was a huge difference from the luxury room she had been placed in last time. It seemed Eredin was very displeased with her—or it was just his way of keeping even those people he needed. After all, he had not been King the first time she had been to Tir ná Lia. It had not been his decision. With a heavy sigh, she sat on the straw bed resting her elbows against her bent knees and her back against the wall as she considered her options…
Further in the palace, the King of the Wild Hunt sat on his throne, a grin spreading his lips as he thought about his recent capture. Cirilla was finally in his grasp—in spite of the efforts of all his enemies, and that of the traitor Avallac'h.
He was one step closer to invading her world. One step closer to saving his realm from annihilation. One step closer to his long, unceasing reign—undefeated and forever known as a legend, feared yet acknowledged as the strongest King the Aen Elle had ever had. His smile widened as he reveled in his thoughts.
A scowl appeared on his face when he noticed one of his guardsmen approaching. He had clearly instructed him and the others not to leave their positions—lest it was to alert him of something—yet here he was. And Eredin knew he'd drive a sword through him if he told him anything less than what he deemed "acceptable" to hear.
"My King," A warrior dressed in skeletal armor said, bowing before Eredin Bréacc Glas. "Wedd Hen Ichaer, she has awoken."
Eredin tilted his head back as he regarded the guardsman. He had expected her to be asleep for longer after Caranthir's spell. Even so, he had requested the guards to report to him if there was any change in her condition.
"I shall be there shortly." He said impassively. "You're dismissed." And his words were accompanied by a dismissive gesture he made with two fingers, yet he did not sit up.
The guardsman only bowed once more in respect before marching away back towards the dungeons, leaving the King to his pondering and thoughts…
Time seemed to stand still and fly at the same time for Ciri. It flew when she thought of those she had left behind, of their worry, of their sacrifice—flew, because she had no way of knowing what they were doing, if they were alright…and as her thoughts raced through her mind and worries flooded her, she began feeling as if she had been locked in that cell for days, with no access to the outside world.
But then, time also stood still, especially when she looked around and ahead. The minutes felt like hours, yet there was little movement outside her cell, so little that she wondered if more than an hour could've passed. It was all unchanged, even the posture of the soldiers remained the same, as did the fact that they barely uttered a word to each other.
And so, she had no way of knowing what time it was, or how much it had been since she had left her family and friends behind. She was alone, with her own thoughts, with her own ponderings on her current situation and what she could possibly do to leave that place…
She had seen the guard who had left earlier return, his posture stiff even as he whispered something she had not been able to hear to one of the other guardsmen. She had paced in her cell before she had once again sat on the straws. But nothing she did could calm her, and nothing she could think of would allow her to get out of her cell…yet.
With a heavy, annoyed sigh, she pushed herself off the ground and to her feet. She looked around her prison for the hundredth time—as if it had already become a habit to look for a way to escape, but she stopped short when she caught a glimpse of a familiar face through the corner of her eyes. He was the last person she wanted to see—actually, not even that. He was the one person she did not want to see.
"Ah, Zireael," He spoke, his tone triumphant and his posture proud as he came to stand in front of the cell. "It's good to see you're awake and well, luned." He had a smirk plastered on his lips, an arrogant, smug smile that only contributed to her already foul mood. She glowered at him, her gaze full of hatred—and it was the only time she had found herself wishing so much that looks alone could kill, or at least knock someone unconscious.
He raised a hand and made a motion with his index and middle finger, dismissing the guardsmen surrounding them. And they left without a word, without a glance back at their king and the one he had pursued for so long.
Ciri couldn't help but notice the contrast between their obedience and Imlerith's hesitance when it came to sparing Vesemir.
"What the hell are you still doing here, Eredin?" Ciri glared at him, her tone sharp and accusing—and she did not care if the departing guards heard the way she addressed him, the way she spoke to him.
"You will address me with respect, girl." He glowered at her, as the expression on his face turned even colder. But she didn't fear him.
"I'll address you as you deserve," She replied sharply. "King of the Wild Hunt." She added with mockery and spite in her tone, causing his lips to twitch in anger as his fists clenched.
"You do realize I decide your fate, as well as that of the witcher and the sorceress, don't you?" He asked evilly, staring her in the eye with that arrogant look on his face, so confident in his taunts.
"I realize your world is on the brink of destruction too, which means, you need me." She told him, and the change in him was obvious to Ciri—from arrogance, to irritation…and something else she couldn't place. "You killing my friends isn't gonna get you much. Of course, I could hate you more than I already do but that just won't work to your advantage, will it?" She too stared him in the eye, this time with a challenge in those green, fiery eyes of hers. She dared him to tell her otherwise.
He scowled, the intensity of his glare increasing so much that Ciri did feel a shiver down her spine—but she was not going to surrender to him.
He let out a short, barely noticeable sigh. "I was hoping we could reach an…agreement so I won't have to hurt those you care for…after all, I did leave one of those fools alive as part of a bargain." He watched her carefully—but he had not expected her irritated expression to suddenly turn into one of anger.
"You got some nerve, Eredin." She told him coldly, sharply, with contempt in her voice as she came to stand right before the bars of her cell. "You threaten my friend's life, lock me in a dungeon, and then you tell me you have a proposal for me?" She asked, half revolted and half in disbelief, awaiting an answer that she did not care to hear.
"I did have to ensure you would not escape again, Cirilla. After all, you have been quite a naughty girl last time." He said. "You could use some iron discipline."
"And you could use a harsh lesson of the same cruelty as you." She thought to herself, but instead said, "Naughty? For what?" She saw him raise an eyebrow, but she continued, "Leaving to save my friend? Not allowing you to use me as a piece of meat?" Her tone was accusing as she glowered at him, filled with such contempt, yet Eredin thought he also heard disillusion-and perhaps sadness as she spoke the last part.
"I told you the truth, unlike Avallac'h who has now tricked you into thinking he is on your side." Eredin replied. "Had you not left, perhaps things would have been different." There was something suggestive in his voice…
"Yeah, I would've been forced to sleep with you after the former king's "unfortunate" death." Ciri replied, and she saw the brief alarm in his gaze before the elf glared evilly at her once more. "So yeah, I did the right thing. I'd rather sleep on this stone floor than ever in bed with you." She told him disdainfully. "And you can take any "proposals" you may have and shove them up your ass." She defied him, disrespected him and insulted him. His jaw clenched, his expression turned hateful and even colder than usual. Eredin would not stand for such behavior.
"Such attitude should be disciplined with an iron fist…and eradicated through methods used for centuries, on humans and horses." He said, knowing she'd understand. Knowing she'd remember.
"I'm not your horse and I'm not your slave, Eredin." Ciri replied sharply. "Just because you captured me doesn't mean you control me. You never will." Ciri said, and everything about her—her posture, her tone, her words, her gaze—reflected nothing less than determination as she looked the King of the Wild Hunt in the eyes.
"We'll see about that." Eredin said smugly, tilting his head back in arrogance before he turned around and walked away.
"In your dreams." Ciri scoffed to herself as she backed away from the cage's bars and sighed, leaning against one of the cold stone walls.
She heard several voices outside, but she couldn't make out what they said. She assumed it was Eredin ordering the guardsmen, since the elves appeared in the dungeon almost as soon as the talking ceased.
And Ciri had no idea how she'd escape this time.
The first thing I'll say is: thank you to all who read this and the previous chapter, thank you for all the follows, all the kudos, all the favorites, and all the comments. Thank you all so much for your feedback, it has meant a lot to me and it really motivated me to try to get this story updated sooner than I'd initially planned :)
Pretty please let me know your opinions on this chapter, be they good or bad, send them my way because feedback is a writer's best friend (well, feedback and the keyboard… :D). Plus, I wrote this chapter, unlike the previous one, without a scene guideline from the game, so I'm curious to hear how I did with maintaining character personalities (which, I admit, I'm not fully confident I did right). Nonetheless, I loved writing this chapter :)
I'm not entirely sure when the next chapter will be done but it should be soon enough. However, I'm very certain that next weekend (or possibly earlier), I'll post one of the other Witcher 3 fanfics I'm working on, but don't worry, I'm not abandoning this one—I'll be writing and updating both :)
I also thank Vic-of-Thor, who is a wonderful beta reader and has given me much helpful advice for this fanfic and this chapter, as well.
And If any of you is interested in taking a better look at the cover photo I made for the fanfic, here it is: www . deviantart challengeofthedark/art/Witcher-3-A-Different-Path-Taken-Cover-part-1-766659704 (just remove spaces)
And since I can't reply to guest reviews on fanfiction net but I still feel bad for not replying to them, I decided to answer all the ones I get at the end of the chapter itself, so here is my answer to the guest who was kind to let me know her/his opinion.
Guest: Great debute! Looking forward to the next chapter
ChallengeOfTheDark: Thank you! :) I am glad you think so and I hope this fanfic will continue to be to your liking (and if not please let me know). I hope to hear from you again :D
And also, the disclaimer of Rivia: I do NOT own anything, it all belongs to their rightful owners. I have only written this fanfic out of love and appreciation for the wonderful, complex universe of the Witcher. I make no profit nor do I intend to, I am simply happy to write my fantasies within this universe and happy that others find this story enjoyable. Many thanks also to CD Projekt RED for the masterpieces Witcher games, as well as to Andrzej Sapkowski for the masterpieces his books are.