Disclaimer: I don't own Nasuverse or any other franchise that can be found in this fanfiction.

Words Count: 5455

Here's my usual spiel:

You can read up to 10 Episodes in advanced plus my other fic: Ars Goetia– Antichrist here.

p a tr e on . com (/) LiamThePoor

A/N: So Webnovel reversed their decision… I can only imagine the guy on the corporate ladder being shit on by his higher-ups for doing something so stupid. For those who didn't know, about two, three days back, Webnovel locked all chapters from being accessible for browser-users. It didn't matter if it's a fanfic, or an original novel, you can't read it after 10 chapters.

It's supposedly done to 'protect' writers from having their intellectual properties stolen by other sites, but not only was the conversion forceful and sketchy as fuck. Their App was also super shitty and clustered. Thus, myself and many other authors decided to leave it for Scribblehub. I'm guessing they realized how stupid that decision was and reversed it, but the damages are already done. My thought on the matter is, if they can try it once, they will definitely do it a second time.

Don't know what they were thinking.

Beside, Scribblehub is super writer-friendly. You can put sentences in bold, italic and arrange paragraphs there. I'm gonna be honest, if I knew it was that cool, I'd have uploaded my fic on Scribblehub first. But I suppose better late than never.

A/N#2: Lots of thanks to Helios for the 20 3

It's official, I utterly despised the Crones.

Those damned, smug, ugly, boils-ridden, puss-filled cunts. When the time was ripe, I'd rip their arms from their sockets and beat them to death with their own limbs.

The last three days had been miserable. Monsters could sense me miles away, and the ones who should be territorial, refusing to chase preys after a certain distance like the drowners were on our asses 24/7. We were allowed like, an hour of rest until the next batch of monsters found us. Some were simple to deal with, but were no less an inconvenience, others a fucking menace, like the leshen we just slew.

"Hahaha… What's with you? You're like a walking monster-bait!" The ashen-haired Witcheress shouted as she yanked the Black Key from the leshen's headless torso.

I couldn't even blame her either. We had been chased by so many monsters I must have racked up a three-digits kills count. At first, she was still able to make jokes and ignored the situation, but this was simply ridiculous. In between the nightmares, the lack of sleep and the constant, incessant attacks, we were both completely exhausted. Ciri herself could barely stand at this point, and while I was arguably in a better condition, I was not far from collapsing myself.

"Isn't it obvious? Some pieces of shit cursed me! If– No, when I find them, I'll make them regret being born." I kicked the leshen's head angrily, rage coloring my expression as I went to retrieve Invictus.

"I think we should skip Crow's Perch and move straight to Novigrad, it's a big city, better defended… Maybe Triss can help us figure out whateveris going on with you." Ciri spoke worriedly, but I shook my head at her suggestion. We couldn't go to Novigrad, and not because I wanted to preserve the timeline or some bullshits like that. "We can't, we are out of supplies and bone-tired, we will never make it there and I don't want to collapse on the road when monsters everywhere are after my ass."

"I can–" I interjected, swiping a hand down my face to get rid of the droplets of sweat. "No, you can barely stand at this point, you can't even defend yourself properly, let alone protect me."

Ciri looked annoyed at the interruption, but let finish. "As I was saying I could teleport us there, it will save us the time and effort. We can't just kill everything that comes our way."

That, that could work. Sadly, there were several complications involved. "Ciri, you're too tired, long-range teleportation will make you bedridden for days, if not weeks. I won't be able to find whoever this Triss is, I don't even know who she is–" I lied, I'd totally be able to find her, but that kind of magic could reveal us to the Eternal Flame and that rabid dog Radovid. Although I was no slouch myself, I wouldn't want to fight the entire religion on their turf, that's just asking for an ass-kicking.

Not to mention– "Beside, there's a reason why you have limited the use of your powers, right? Given how hurried you seem to want to get out of Lindenvale… You're being chased by something, someone who can track the magical particles you let out, am I correct in my assumption?"

Ciri grimaced, yet she did not make an attempt to rebuke. "Whoever they are, they must be powerful to track a Sorceress who can teleport at will. Imagine what will happen to the people if they track you to Novigrad–" I was a dick, but I didn't want the blood of innocents to stain my hands, not if I wanted a chance at Artoria. If it's made known that thousands, possibly millions died thanks to me, that route would close forever and the Eternal Flame would have even more reasons, valid ones to fuck over the magical community.

The Witcheress scowled as she finished my sentence. "Thousands might die, or be enslaved by Eredin…"

"Yup–" I ended with a pop. "Which is why we can not, under any circumstance, teleport there unless our lives are on the line. We'll stop at Crow's Perch as per plan, resupply and rest, before setting out to Novigrad. Anyway, it's not like we are from Crow's Perch, probably just a day away now. Unfortunately…"

I looked over at my horse, it had died after trampling on the leshen to protect Ciri, while hers ran off into the woods and had likely become some ghouls' meal by now. It's actually why we were so short on supplies, the leshen had come bursting out of nowhere with the treeline obstructing our view, leading to Ciri being thrown off her horse and losing her half of the supplies. Mine was fine, since the leshen bitch-slapped my horse to death when she was attacking it with her hooves.

'Damn leshens and their ability to burrow underneath the earth. The fuck do they think they are? Land-sharks?!' I grumbled internally as I slowly approached Daisy. Yes, I named the horse, we might have started on the wrong foot, but she was a loyal beast, unlike Ciri's brown stead. The cowardly little shit.

"Sweet dreams, Daiz." I retrieved our supplies, then flicked my hands, and the deceased horse burst into flame. I wasn't about to leave her here so the ghouls could feast on her corpse. She deserved better than that. Sometimes I hated my ability to bond with animals, I was depressed and cried for days when my first cat died, and Daisy really reminded me of that cat– Bunny, we had named her. They were so alike it's scary, from their mannerism, the swagger in their steps to their inability to stay away from their humans…

"The Crones will die painful deaths." I whispered to myself, forcefully pushing the sadness to fuel my growing fury at those woods-dwelling things. "They will wish they had never crossed me."

"Leonis?" I felt Ciri's hand settle on my shoulder. "It's fine, she's in a better place now."

I bit stomped on my emotions as bile rushed to my throat. "You can't possibly believe that. I don't know how it is for animals, but for humans, there's no afterlife, just endless darkness. It is devoid of sound, sight and life." My teeth grinded at the thoughts as dismay overwhelmed my mind and I muttered. "I was okay with it, but I doubt she will like that, she's too friendly, full of life…"

Was this why Geralt named all his horses Roach? Not because it made remembering their names easier, not because he was too lazy to come up with new ones, but because it was a remembrance, a reminder to his first horse? How upsetting. "This World truly sucks, doesn't it?"

I stood up, head whirling, yet I didn't allow any of it to show. "Let's go." I turned back, slinging the leathery shack over my shoulder. "We still have a long distance to cover."

Ciri and I were just about to head East when I felt the Ambient Mana stir, the birds had ceased to chirp and the air seemed stagnated, frozen in place. As if sensing something was wrong as well, the Witcheress smoothly unsheathed her blade.

"Something's afoot." We spoke simultaneously. "We have companies."

From the nearby vegetation, out came two forktails colored in green and gold. Being the distant cousin to dragons, these creatures were smaller and far less intelligent with four limbs, two clawed hind-legs and wings made of pinkish, see-through membranes. Their heads were adorned with several sets of horns tougher than even the fiends' antlers, and their backs were lined with ridge-like spines that jutted out from their hides.

They were powerful monsters, I'd say they were even harder to put down than the chorts and fiends. Those were fairly easy to counter, their charge attacks could be dodged as long as you paid attention. Forktails on the other hand, were unpredictable in their attacks, one moment they could be flailing their wings, the next they were already transitioning into a tail-swipe. Worse yet, they were walking tanks.

Their scales, while less resilient than their bigger cousins– The dragons, still offered them protection to bladed weapons. The best way to put one down was with blunt-force, preferably from a club, or a warhammer. Was the Curse getting stronger? Because I could have sworn the natural habitats of forktails were mountainous parts, cliffs or the grasslands, where they had an abundant source of food preying on the cattle raised by humans living in the area.

We couldn't even escape them, since they could fly and were fucking relentless in their pursuit of preys.

"Why the fuck are forktails here?! And two at that…" I mumbled beneath my breaths so Ciri couldn't hear me. We hadn't met one of these on our trip yet, thus by all rights, I should not possess any knowledge about them and their preferred living areas. Werewolves were different, they were merely cursed ones, who were usually humans in their normal forms, I could always explain to her that Earth too once had werewolves, but forktails?

I'd be hard-pressed to make up an excuse for my foreknowledge.

Thankfully Ciri, being the helpful girl she was, filled in the spots in my knowledge. "Careful, Leonis. Forktails' hides are tough, they're fast and they can spit venomous balls of acid with the glands located near their throats. I know you're durable, but without a proper amour, that substance will melt straight through our skin and bones."

Right, I forgot they could spit out acidic venoms as projectiles as well. It's like nature took one long, hard look at the forktails and decided to give them every weapon in her arsenal… If I had to be honest, I'd be more willing to fight a dragon than deal with the forktails' bullshit, it would look cooler at the very least. Sadly, we didn't always get what we wanted, and I'd have to settle for killing the dragons' dumber, skinnier, crackhead cousins. "Anything else you want to add before we go into this?"

"They look… Young, a few moon circles I'd say, pay attention to any possible sign of their parents." Of course, because it would have been just too damn easy if there were only these two, wouldn't it? "Got it."

I twirled Invictus in my palm, watching the beasts stalk toward us– Me, their eyes carefully following my movements to a tee as they unhinged their jaws.

I dived to the ground.

They spat.

I barely avoided the acidic spits flying my direction.

Ciri ran to their location, getting one with a slash to the neck.

The second immediately moved to bite at her in one jerky, yet incredibly fast motion.

Mana flared on the tips of index and middle fingers, mass of the mystical energy swirling as they condensed into a basketball-sized curse.

I let it loose, the [Finn Cannon] throwing the beast almost two dozens feet away on its back.

Taking advantage of the situation, I blasted forth with [Reinforcement] empowering me, Invictus aimed at the forktail Ciri had slashed at.

My rapier effortlessly pierced the soft surface of its eye and came straight out the other side, sending it tumbling to the floor, shrieking.

I had managed to penetrate its skull, breaking the ridge of its nose. Unfortunately, that was not enough to kill it, but that was only a matter of time at this point.

Ciri followed up on my attack with a blade to the membrane of its mouth, nailing its tongue to the earth. The second forktail, whom I had knocked down quickly got up at the pained shriek of its sibling. It raced madly toward us, mouth wide open, razor-sharp fangs lining jaws as it flapped its wings and took off to the sky, only to try and jump onto me.

This time, I didn't dive nor roll away, I charged at the forktail instead, Invictus thrumming in my grasp as I performed [Sword God Style]'s signature technique– The good ol' [Longsword Of Silence]. It coughed up several venomous, acidic spits at my face, but I was fast, much too fast for the hits to land, and I was only growing quicker with each step I took.

[Sword God Style] wasn't just a simple Sword Style.

No, if anything, I'd classify it as a mystical technique that allowed its practitioners to possess overwhelming physical might and accelerate at unprecedented speed. No Martial Arts I found had the same capability, they all required Ki to work in one way or another. Not [Sword God Style]. There was no requirement for mystical energies to empower the flesh, it just… Worked somehow. And I was eternally thankful for that, because after days of constant fighting, my Mana pool had been pushed to the limit.

The prior [Finn Cannon] was the last I'd be able to perform for the next few hours.

I pushed with the balls of feet, shooting at it in a blur.

Before its body could split into two and any blood was spilt, I was already on the ground, gasping and clawing at my neck for air. While the Style itself might not have needed any mystical energy, it demanded and consumed stamina like none other. "Jesus– Gasp, Jesus Christ, I can't–!"

I slammed a fist to my chest in an effort to get my lungs to function properly again. It was super effective. "Cough– Shit… That was just horrible."

"Leonis! How are you feeling?" Ciri grabbed my shoulder as I turned to face her, sending the young woman a hesitant nod. "I- I'm fine. Not sure, feels like crap, but I'll live… I think?"

I paused, hand reaching to feel for my lungs, only to find rapid, panicked heartbeats that reminded me of the time I had to go to the hospital for coffee-overconsumption. "Probably can't use that again anytime soon though, not unless I want my heart to stop completely."

I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing, which helped calm my heartbeats as adrenaline production began to slow. This wasn't good, we were at least a day distance from Crow's Perch and neither of us was in fighting-shape. The Witcheress frowned, her expression grim and worried. It seemed she understood our situation as well.

"Princess, I think we should split…" I told Ciri, mind made up. I was the one cursed, this mess should be dealt by me and me alone, no reason to drag her down. Not when she already had her hands full with rape-happy Elves, her crazy-ass blood father and this whole prophecy nonsense. Understandably, she protested. "Absolutely not! I'm not leaving you here."

"I'll be alright, Princess. I can handle a few monsters, but you can't hold on for much longer, can you?" I chuckled, stabbing Invictus into the dirt to use as a temporary cane. "You can go to Crow's Perch first to get help. I'll meet you there."

Despite the conflict on her face, I could tell Ciri was giving my suggestion some thoughts. I didn't blame her. She alone was capable of stopping the White Frost– A magical, Worlds-spanning disaster that would sink entire planets in ice and snow, she couldn't die here. Beside, my suggestion had worth to it. We couldn't keep killing the army of drowners, hags, ghouls and any other that we might encounter on the way to the settlement. Even if they failed, exhaustion would finish the job.

Logically, her seeking aid from the Baron and his men was the better, safer option. One that would increase our chances of survival. She knew this, and thanks to [Future Calculation, I had found the odds of her successfully bringing back help was overwhelmingly in our favor. All I had to do was convince her to go along with my plan.

"But–!" I interjected.

"Even if I can't fight, I can flee. My ability, the glowing petals one, costs far less Mana to keep up if it's only me... Don't worry, I won't die here." I showed her my pinky with a smug grin. "Pinky swear."

To my surprise, Ciri clasped hers onto mine, her somber, vivid amber-green eyes bearing into me. "Don't die, promise me that at least."

"I won't."

With that said, the Witcheress went to retrieve the Black Key nailed to the dead forktail and made it down the dirt trail, but not before throwing me one last worried look. "I'll be back with help, I promise!"

I waved her away, and only when I could no longer see her silhouette did I allow myself to collapse on the ground in a boneless heap, heaving as I set Invictus on my lap and scowled. I punched the ground hard enough for the dirt to explode like a landmine had gone off. I was feeling shitty already, hadn't gotten the chance to bath for days now, and my matted, greasy black hair sticking to my forehead and poking my eyes certainly wasn't helping.

"Damn those fucking Crones to the fiery depth of Hell…!"

— [Fate: DML] —

Ciri disappeared down the path. She had no idea where and how close she was to civilization, only that she needed to head further East if she wanted to find Crow's Perch.

Splitting up from Leonis was the correct decision, seeing as she had gone for hours without encountering or attracting a single monster. Even if the Witcheress did feel bad about leaving him to fend for himself after he had saved her life on multiple occasions, the more rational parts of her brain helpfully pointed out her presence there would serve as naught but distraction for the boy.

Which was why she agreed to his suggestion, in spite of the guilt gnawing desperately at her conscience. "He'll be fine, he promised..."

Ciri was futilely reassuring herself for the thousandth time to ease the sinking feeling in her stomach, when all of a sudden, she heard rustlings from the tall bushes on her right. The Witcheress let out a tired sigh as she prepared herself for another fight. Yet, what came out wasn't a monster, not unless ugly people could be classified in that category anyway.

No, it was an aged soldier dressed in faded royal blue and yellow, his liege's crest sown to his chest, visible under the shattered remains of what must have been his breastplate. The man instantly ceased up at the sight of her blade, raising his hands in surrender. "Better put that thing down before yee' hurt yerself, lassie. I wish yee' no harm, and yee' dun't look anywhere near fighting shape. Best to resolve this peacefully, wouldn'tcha agree?"

Against her judgement, the ashen-haired Witcheress aimed her blade to the ground, but she didn't release it just yet, going on to question the soldier. "Are you part of the local lord's forces?"

"Aye, been with the Baron for decades now. We were s'posed to deal with a ghoul infestation a little bit down South, turns out there were more than just a few… One of the fuckers done this to me armor." The soldier seemed to have aged another decade right in front of her as he tapped on his broken breastplate. "What about yee', why are yee' 'ere? This ain't no place for women and children to be in."

Ciri hesitated, before replying. "I was travelling with my companion, a boy four, five years younger than me. Got caught up in several fights with the local monster population and had to split. I was going to Crow's Perch actually, hoping to enlist the Baron's help in finding my companion… Can you bring me to him?"

The old soldier snorted, eyes lecherously roaming her athletic figure. "Sure, but it will cost yee', lassie."

She shuddered in disgust.

Ciri had been a… Difficult child, always wearing a constant scowl that looked painted on her face and was generally tomboyish, yet throughout the years, she had bloomed. A flower in her own right, and she was well aware of that. How could she not when the gazes of men, young and old alike would follow her everywhere she went? Still, to be coerced into sex by a man who looked twenty years older than her father and sperm donor?

That was not an experience she was looking for on this fine afternoon, or any other time of the day. "… I'll look for Crow's Perch myself."

She didn't waste any time speaking with the lecherous old man, turning back where she came decisively. After all, she didn't him to get any idea now, did she? Unfortunately, he had other things on his mind, lurching toward her to grab her shoulder. "Come now, lassie. I've not had a girl like you in ages–" His hand caressed her legs and began to move upward.

In an instance, the old soldier was on his belly, flopping around like a fish out of water as her knee pressed against his nape. He struggled, trying to escape her hold, but a small increase in pressure soon convinced him otherwise. "Touch me again and I'll do worse than slicing your throat–" The Witcheress paused, letting the soldier's imagination run its course.

He didn't even dare to make a peep while she searched him for weapons.

There wasn't much on him beside a pouch of twenty Nilfgaardian coins, a rusty dagger and a spiked club hanging from his belt. "You're lucky I'm in not the mood for murder. Now, point me in the direction of Crow's Perch and I'll spare your life."

Once she got a closer look at him, Ciri realized this man must have defected from the Baron's army. His breastplate and weapons were too old, too ill-maintained to be effective against humans, his manners clearly had much to be desired and were expected of bandits, not patrolling soldiers. Of course, there was a chance that the Baron just allowed his troops free reign in the area, but she doubted it. No lords nor ladies would ever let their soldiers run amok in their territory.

That's a sure-fire way to get a rebellion on their hands, which wasn't good for anyone involved, be them peasants or nobility.

"Speak!" She hissed, narrowing her eyes as she twisted his wrist. The man might have been strong once upon a time, and he might have been able to turn the table on her, but he was past his prime. Too old and feeble to break free from her grasp. Left with no other choice, he flung his head at the road and stammered. "J- Just follow the path! Three miles down, take a right! Yee'll find the hold, it- it's surrounded by walls and river on all sides, can't miss it!"

Instead of releasing him, Ciri leaned in, her Black Key gleaming maliciously as she stabbed the soldier's left hand, breaking all of his fingers. "If I find you've lied to me, I'll return to finish the job, so if you're lying…"

She let the implication hang, and when she found no sign of him having tried to deceive her, the ashen-haired Witcheress quickly jumped off of him. She was filthy enough from her travel, no reason to get dirtier staining her hands with his blood. "Get out of here. If I ever hear you trying this on anyone again, a messed up hand will be the least of your worries."

With that, she took off toward Crow's Perch, but not before flinging the short, spiked club away, abandoning the whimpering old soldier to his fate. Although this was not an act she condoned, leaving an injured, unarmed man in the wilderness, it's better than the alternative where the old soldier was free to pillage and prey on helpless young women lost in the woods.

True, Ciri was anything but.

That didn't mean his next target would be half as capable as she was.

Best to give him a painful lesson, one physically carved in his body so he would never attempt this on anyone ever again.

Thus, with a broken man left in toll, the Witcheress set out once more, this time with a destination in mind. Luckily, the wannabe-rapist soldier hadn't deceived her, a fifties minutes jog later and she had located Crow's Perch! Ciri nearly collapsed in exhaustion. Her legs and arms were beyond sore, her breaths short, and her heart felt like it would burst from all the fatigue and excitement stacked on top of each other.

Still, she was here. All she had to do was find and enlist the Baron's help now.

She doubted he would do it for free though. "Perhaps I can offer to deal with any monster problem he has… Hopefully it goes better than before."

Ciri made to go inside the hold, only to be stopped in her track by the guards, their sight aimed at the blade on her back. "Where are you going with that sword, girlie?"

"… Into the hold? I do not come with the ill intention, merely wish to speak to the Baron for personal reasons." The guards gave her another look, then motioned for her to follow. Left with no other option, the Witcheress trailed after them. Crow's Perch was not a very pretty place, its architecture paled in comparison with the Worlds she had unwittingly travelled through, but they people looked happy?

Happier than those outside the safe confine of these walls at least.

"Ya' look tough, mercenary, ain't ya'?" She nodded as she took in the scenery. Although it might not be on her list of favorite vacation spots, she must admit the place was secured, and with its natural geological characteristics, built on top of a landmass surrounded by rough, coursing river, few would be able penetrate its defense. The soldiers, while rough and rugged-looking, they had a certain… Demeanor to them.

Just the way they held themselves told Ciri they were experienced. Not trained, but experienced, and sometimes that could prove even more valuable than good training. "Something of sort."

"Good, the Baron might enlist your help in tracking his wife and daughter. Been missing for weeks, ferried off somewhere like the doing of a ghost." The guards shook their heads. "The Baron mostly spends his days drowning his sorrow at the bottom of the bottle now."

"Really?" Ciri raised her eyebrow. That's good, it gave her some insights into the man's character. He loved his family, meaning she could leverage that to her advantage. "I might be able to help, but I can't promise anything yet."

"Good 'nough. We're gasping at straws at this point, no clue where the ladies went. A new perspective might help with the investigation."

'Can't argue with that.' The Witcheress thought as they went through a gate and approached the manor that sat at the very top. It was... Pretty, prettier than she had initially imagined. There were men crawling in courtyard, blood spilt, yet these did nothing to undermine the structure's homey-feel. Right behind it was a large garden decorated and filled with flowers of all breeds, fluttering under the evening wind. "If nothing, the Baron has a sense of beauty at least."

"Yeah, place was built with his wife and daughter in mind." The first guard spoke, but was hushed by the second. Still, he continued. "Their marriage was not a peaceful one, ya' see. The folks here said he beat his wife, but I'll tell ya', known Phillip Strenger for decades, he ain't like that, never seen a bruise on the ladies..."

"He's a good man, if not troubled and scarred by horrors of war." The second finally added.

"I see, I'll be the judge of that." She replied as they got up the stairs. Already, Ciri could hear the gruff voice of the man himself, drunken and spirited, yet seemingly burdened by the loss of his family. "My liege, a girl's here to see ya'."

"Is it my daughter?!" The Baron came barreling through the door. It was a stupid assumption to make, if she had been his daughter, the guards would have announced her identity and not let the man blindly guess her identity. "It's not my little girl… Who's she? What's ssshe doing 'ere?"

The giant of a man whose face was red with alcohol slurred, clearly disappointed at the sight of her. "She looks experienced, trained. We thought she might be able to help with the search…"

"Help?" The Baron, clothed in red muttered, then bellowed. "HELP?! LOOK AT THE LASS, YOU BLOODY FOOLS, SHE'S BLEEDING EVERYWHERE! HOW IS SHE TO HELP LIKE THAT?"

"Wait!" She shouted, interjected on the behalf of the stammering guards. "I can help, I was trained by Witchers at a young age. Don't know if it's any good in finding your missing wife and daughter, but I can give you a new perspective at least."

The Baron gave her an odd look, the glimmer of hope in his eyes shone briefly at the mention of Witchers. "… Aye, perhaps you can, but not like that." He turned to his bumbling guards, expression softening. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go fetch a healer for the girl, and tell the cooks to prepare her a meal, HURRY!"

The guards instantly ran off, leaving Ciri alone with the man, who gestured for her to come inside what looked to be his office. He sat on the chair with a loud thump. "If you think you can help, I'm more than willing to let you, but not until you've rested. You look ready to drop, girl."

"I'd like to, but I can't." The Witcheress coughed, tiredness spreading rapidly through her limbs as she took a seat. She wanted so desperately to sleep, to eat her fill, but she couldn't allow the rest, she would never be able to forgive herself if she did. Not when her companion was out there fighting for his life. "I have a companion, a friend. He has saved my life more than once, but we had to split because of the monsters deep in the forest–"

Ciri stopped to take a breather, the Baron just waited patiently, seemingly enraptured by her presence, and not in a sexual way. "He's still out there, help me. Have people sent out to retrieve him, and I promise I'll bring you your family back."

The man refused to speak, just looking, watching, so she continued with her plea. "He's a Sorcerer! Young, but I'm sure he can offer his aid in finding your family as well. Please, he doesn't have much time."

The Baron rubbed his eyelids as clarity punctured the haze over his mind. "Apology, you just remind me so much of my daughter… Never been much a girly-girl. Always loving adventure and the sword, she adores flowers though. That's why I have the garden made."

Suddenly, he stood, facing Ciri. "I'll have people and my best hounds out searching for him. In the meantime, you'll stay here, eat and rest up. There's a guest room opposite the kitchen, go and sleep first. The servants will have your bath and meal prepared shortly."

She was bone-tired, and her body ached at the sound of 'sleep' and 'meal', yet Ciri protested still. "I can't! He's in–" Only to be silenced by the Baron. "You're in no condition to fight or help anyone. I'll have soldiers and hound comb the forest, he'll be fine. If it makes you feel any better, I'll join them on the search, but I'm not letting go into the woods until you've made a full recovery, understood?"

"I- I–!"

"This is not a negotiation, I'll not have you waste your life battling monsters when you're injured, fatigued and underfed. Go!"

Ciri sighed, knowing the man was right. She'd only be deadweight to soldiers should she decided to follow.

She retrieved a handkerchief from her pouch. "He stands to my chest, has black hair and green eyes, dressed in fine clothing. Hopefully, there's enough of his scent for the hounds to track. I know I'm asking a lot from a stranger, but please save him." She handed the Baron the object, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she turned to leave. "And thank you, I–"

"Shh… Rest now, we'll speak when I've returned with your little friend in toll." With his words, Ciri finally let the exhaustion overcome her and fell into unconsciousness.

"GUARDS! THE GIRL HAS FAINTED–!"

The last thing she heard was the voice of the Baron bellowing for his servants to fetch the healer.