Bracing the cold yet again, Ciri climbed the stairs leading to the castle. She was not really in the right mindset to meet with Avallac'h. Especially if he intended to push another of his infuriating training sessions on her. She did not understand why he thought they would do any good in regards to her powers, seeing as she was not even allowed to use said powers for training at all. How was she supposed to get better in time to face Eredin and his Red Riders, when using her special talents would lead him straight to her?
Avallac'h had settled on meditation. He believed Ciri would be better able to control her powers if she were able to control her emotions. He was not entirely wrong. Though magical outbursts during rage or grief or even fear were so rare, she hardly saw the point of the exercises. She was unmotivated. Which led to arguments.
"You are not focusing," Avallac'h said thirty minutes later, peering down at her where she lay atop his bed, attempting to follow his voice into a guided meditation. "I can feel your thoughts flutter away like the wings of a butterfly. You are thinking of the Witcher and the Sorceress, your horse who you want to reclaim, and worst of all, you think of him. Of Eredin. You are frightened. Strike it from your mind."
"Stop that," she chided, though she didn't open her eyes. "Don't look into my head like that."
"I am not," he responded. "Your kind is easy to read. Your emotions and thoughts are written all over your face for everyone to see."
"Then stop looking at me."
"Zireael."
Ciri sighed and sat up, despite the look of warning she saw in the elf's eyes. "This is pointless. I know you fear I will lose control. But I haven't! Not for ages. For years, Avallac'h!"
Avallac'h's gaze softened ever so slightly and he sank to his haunches before her. Even then he was taller than her. He took her hands in his and despite her annoyance, Ciri had to smile. The way in which he tried to comfort her was very… human. Something he had adapted during their travels together. And it demeaned him, she knew, because no matter how hard he tried, he still despised the human race like most of the Aen Elle did. To them, humans were nothing but slaves.
"I know, me luned," he said, his voice softer than usual. "And I would not be so worried had we the luxury to exercise your magic. But since we so rarely get to do that these days, you are buzzing with unspent energy, set to explode at any little nudge of emotional disturbance. It could harm your friends, the people of this island. And it could harm you."
She watched him for a long moment, those pale but bright eyes. She remembered her first encounter with him and Eredin side by side, and how she had compared them at that moment. Eredin's hair was the darkest black, whereas Avallac'h was fair. Avallac'h's face was gentle, while Eredin's brought to mind a bird of prey. Fair and dark. Good and evil. Even then those had been her instincts. "Would it sadden you if I were harmed?"
Avallac'h looked surprised. That was rare. "Of course. Why would you ask such a thing?"
"Would you be sad because you care for me, or because it might hinder my ability to stop The White Frost?"
He hesitated. The bastard hesitated.
Ciri tore her hands from his grasp and stood, striding for the door.
"Zireael!" he called out from behind her, but Ciri did not stop. With tears in her eyes, she stepped out into the hallway and slammed the door shut behind her.
Leaving Yennefer to converse with Crach, Geralt went in search of Zoltan and Dandelion. They were in the main hall having a breakfast worthy of kings. Not that it made the bard particularly happy - his hangover cut the pleasures short.
"Oh. Geralt." Dandelion raised his fork in greeting, then went on to poking at the piece of fried meat.
Zoltan was finishing his plate vigorously. "We goin?" he asked.
"Depends on whether you saw the druid."
"Not since the morn," the dwarf said. "Could he have gone back to his place? Up there in the woods?"
Geralt sighed. "It complicates matters. We'll have to ride there."
Dandelion groaned, dropping his head. "Not today. My head is splitting as it is!"
"Too bad, mate," Zoltan said. "We'll ask Yennefer to take you home."
Yennefer headed back to the inn, gathered up her belongings, those she'd need during their travels and those that would help find Philippa.
And then she waited, assuming Geralt and Zoltan would come for her when they were ready.
She didn't have to wait long and they didn't come alone. Dandelion was with them. He greeted her feebly, dropping down onto the edge of the bed as he waited for them to talk and prepared to go.
"I won't be able to take everyone at once." And considering the distance the one time move would be draining for a singular day. "Zoltan should stay and keep an eye on Ciri – at a distance – until we're ready."
"Isn't it Avallac'h's job?" Zoltan inquired, arms folded. "Not that I'm objectin, but the elf doesn't let anyone near 'em when they train. Dandelion and I could go ahead to Novigrad if ye open the portal, and ye two can say our byes to our lassy."
Geralt turned to Yennefer. "Can you send them back? I'll need to talk to Mousesack, and he's back at his camp. We'll have to ride there."
"Avallac'h has his part. He isn't with her every waking minute. Not that I expect that you should be either. But she needs the extra back up, even if she doesn't think so."
She'd been without it for too long during her two year disappearance and Yennefer didn't want her feeling that way again if the sorceress could help it. It pushed her to making decisions that could be considered reckless.
And to be fair, they hadn't really been apart much since they found her.
If Yennefer wasn't with her, then Geralt was and that was just the unspoken rule.
"You're going to ask Ermion to help us?"
"I don't think I'll have to ask - he'll be protecting her on his own will. But it won't hurt to discuss the outlines of a plan. Come up with one, I mean."
"No, it won't." As at odds Ermion and Yennefer could be, she trusted his advice and council when it came to what was best with regard to protecting Ciri.
"I'll wait with a mug out there," Zoltan said heading out of the room.
"I'll be back for you later." She'd say goodbye to Ciri at the same time. "I'll go back with Dandelion."
The troubadour raised his head from his hands, his eyes slightly watery, and his features an ashen white that suggested either his head was splitting or that he might be expelling his mead soon.
"Say your goodbyes."
He did as she instructed and before he even finished, she conjured a portal and ushered him into it.
Dandelion clutched his stomach as soon as they materialized on the other side, officially looking as though he were fighting back the urge to let go.
And then it passed.
"You all right?"
"Jagged night," he reflected, in sighting very little sympathy from her.
"I don't know about that, from where I'd been sitting it looked rather cozy."
He straightened up sharply, his brows drawing down when he realized his mistake and then carefully began to walk away from her. "Where are we?"
"An Inn I usually frequent when in Novigrad."
One of the few places that didn't outright try and shun her or appeared fine with the use of magic as long the coin didn't run out.
"You'll be staying here?"
"Until I get an idea of where my next target might be."
"A mage?" he asked, reminding her that he had indeed been listening in part to their conversation and that he hadn't been in totality wrapped up in himself.
"Someone useful."
He gave up on trying to push her for more of an explanation and slowly made his way out of the chamber. "How'd you know someone wouldn't be in there in the midst of a tryst?"
"I've reserved this room for myself. If someone had been there we'd have been redirected."
"To where?"
She smirked slightly as she followed him out and down into the main hall, packed with bodies and a series of unfamiliar faces –aside from one. "You should be on your way, Dandelion."
He nodded and Yennefer knew it was only because he was ill, that the idea of being on his feet any longer was probably harder than he'd imagined given all the mead he'd consumed. Yennefer could also sense he wanted to talk about something else, that he had a flare of curiosity, something Geralt had said and she'd barely picked up on mentally before it darted to another thought, one that included two pairs of bosoms and a fond undertaking of one.
"Be safe out there," the sorceress said as he started away from her, probably going in search of his hive of poets and actors. "And try not to get into too much trouble."
Geralt couldn't afford the distraction. A smile blossomed onto his face slightly, followed by a brief look of surprise that she carefully tuned out as she made her way for the Owner of the inn.
After setting things up, making sure they would have place to hole up for the night and regrouping to discuss their plans in peace, she returned to Skellige.
She carried through the last of her magic gear and her scope, leaving the rest of her stuff to be looked after by Ciri before returning for a final time and going in search of Geralt and Zoltan.
It hadn't taken too long to find the latter as he'd been waiting for her at the Inn.
"Did yah get the troubadour back in one piece?" he asked when he saw her, smiling over his cup of mead.
"Just about."
He gave a laugh, polished the last of his drink and stood, following her out of the establishment as they went in search of Ciri to say goodbye and see how far Geralt had come with his druids.
Ciri headed straight for the stables after fleeing Avallac'h's rooms, eager to get away and outside. To do anything other than obsess over the danger she was in, the danger she was placing her friends and family in, and the fact certain people seemed to think she was more of a threat to the world than The Wild Hunt itself.
With the help of stable boy who couldn't stop gawking at her scar, Ciri quickly saddled a brown mare and set off up the mountain path, leaving the village of Kaer Trolde behind. As soon as she was out of sight, she let her horse move at a comfortable walk, reaching up to remove the pins from her hair, massaging her scalp and allowing her tresses to flow freely. Another rarity. Only sorceresses and whores wore their hair down – a sign of an independent, strong woman. The nobility pinned theirs up and the common folk wore their hair in braids or tucked away beneath caps. Ciri wasn't quite sure which category she belonged to, anymore, but it felt nice to simply be herself for a bit, and not what everyone else wanted her to be.
She'd always admired Yennefer's dark curls, ever since she first laid eyes on her as a child. And no matter what Ciri did, her hair would not replicate hers. Ciri's was straight and silky. A gift from her elven ancestors, she supposed. One she was slowly learning to embrace.
Ciri rode for a while with no aim or goal in mind, simply reveling in the activity, in the warmth of the horse beneath her. She too seemed to enjoy a ride just for the hell of it. But within the hour she found herself in familiar territory, close to where she knew Mousesack, or Ermion around these parts, and his druids made camp. At least they had when she was a child. Ciri had not had the time to examine the area last time she was here, pursued by Eredin's warriors.
She steered the horse in the direction she believed was the correct one and was soon rewarded with the sight of smoke rising over the barren treetops. Like from a campfire. The druids were neither skeptic nor hostile when they saw her approach. In fact, they seemed quite at ease, as if she was a frequent visitor.
Alerted by one of the druids about a guest's arrival, Mousesack emerged from the cave and strolled toward the approaching girl.
"Cirilla! As glad as I am to see you, child, is it wise to travel alone? Or Avallac'h allows it?"
She smiled when she caught Mousesack's gaze and dismounted her horse. "I do not ask his permission. He is not my father," she responded, a tad irked by how everybody presumed the elf was her new guardian. "I needed fresh air and some time for myself. The mare led me here. Perhaps she has made the journey before?"
"Many a horse at the castle knows the path," he nodded, stroking his beard while his sharp eyes studied her closely. "How are you doing, child? Is everything good with you?"
"Of course," she said, and then immediately after: "I feel, um, trapped." Ciri met his gaze again, smiling sadly. "Remember when I was Cirilla of Cintra? When I was still a person? I am not anymore. I am only Hen Ichaer now. Elder Blood. It's all anyone sees."
A faint pensive smile, a bit sad, slipped over the druid's mouth. He put a hand on her back lightly, coaxing to stroll with him.
"Do you remember how you disliked being Cirilla of Cintra and dreamed of being someone else? Someone who didn't have to dance and wear dresses and marry a prince?"
She fell into step beside him, nodding slowly. "I do. Though I did not think the alternative would be forced pregnancies, torment, and captivity. I would have preferred something in the middle." A feeble attempt at a joke. "I suppose I should have been more careful. Careful what you wish for, is that not the saying?"
Ciri was silent another moment before she decided to shift the conversation to something more pleasant. "And you, dear Mousesack? How are you?"
Had you stayed with the dryads, it would be the same forced responsibilities, Mousesack thought, but said nothing. He smiled at her question.
"I'm well, no concerns about it. The main concern comes from our predicament, until we resolve it."
He heaved a sigh as they settled on a sun-warmed rock. The wind was chilly, but the sun here on elevation shone bright and hot from the cloudless sky.
"You don't have to be trapped in being a bag of elder blood, Ciri," he said, directing his kind gaze to her. "You are so much more, the real you that you might be feeling you lost. Perhaps you need to get a moment for yourself, pick a beautiful place and remember yourself from the moments when you felt the happiest. Because if you feel lost, you will not win the battle that's to come."
She fell into silence once more, considering his words and the truth they held. "At the very least, it can't hurt," she said eventually, turning to look at the old man. "Would you mind if I leave the horse here for a while? I should like to take a walk. Make use of my body."
A look of concern crept through the druid's features, but he nodded. "Of course, do as you will, child, but be very careful not to stray too far. Given the times and trials of present, we cannot be too careful, it seems. Gods be with ye."
"And with you," she said, though she did not rightly know if she believed in any Gods. She got to her feet and brushed herself off, heading for the path creeping into the forest behind the camp. She did not know this area too well, but she was not entirely unfamiliar either. She remembered exploring the forests and mountains with Hjalmar when they were children. A simpler time.
When the path came to an end and she was faced with the option to stray deeper into the forest or climb the rocks ahead, she chose the latter. She wanted to see the sky. To see Ard Skellig from up high. The view did not disappoint her. Like with Mousesack before, she found a rock to sit on where she admired the spectacular landscape beneath her, the sun reflecting off the ocean in tiny glints far, far away.
She ran her fingers over the bracelet Avallac'h had returned to her that morning, gently rubbing the green stone whilst whispering to the wind that breezed around her. "Please return to me, Kelpie. Please come home." Avallac'h had been right to warn her not to get her hopes up, for the mare had been lost to her several years ago. But Ciri could not help herself. She missed her. Before the elf, she had been Ciri's sole companion. Her only true friend. And Ciri wanted so badly for the horse to still be alive.
Geralt went after Mousesack as soon as Yennefer and Dandelion disappeared into the portal. He didn't linger, and after a brief goodbye he headed for the stables. Better get that head start for the druid camp.
The weather was chilly but sunny, and the ride was as pleasant as it could be here on Skellige Isles.
The druids met him with smiles and invitations for lunch.
"Cirilla's been here a bit ago," Mousesack said. "Avallac'h's training didn't hold her. Her ordeal is bothering her a lot, Geralt. She needs to find inner peace before she faces the Wild Hunt. But I'm uncertain how to help her. She keeps to herself and doesn't open up much."
Geralt observed the woods, feeling troubled. "If only I knew how to help her with that. I'm trying, but this Hunt hanging over us like an axe ready to fall on her head is in the way."
"I see," Mousesack sighed, stroking his beard. "She cannot think of anything else. Probably it is why their trainings don't hold her attention nor enthusiasm. It is too much trouble for one head so young."
"It's hard to be the chosen one," the Witcher muttered. "A curse."
"Indeed."
When sitting still atop the mountain became unbearably cold, Ciri got up and began her descent. She should have asked Mousesack to lend her a cloak before she left, but it was too late now. At least there was no snow today.
She veered off the path she'd walked before, seeking shelter from the wind amongst the trees, walking in the direction of a small clearing she could see up ahead.
She was adjusting her gloves when a loud growl rippled through the woods. Ciri froze, gaze darting around her immediate surroundings for signs of danger. There appeared to be none, but she knew better than to let her guard down simply because everything seemed fine.
She pulled her sword, Swallow, from its sheath on her back and carefully, silently, stepped closer towards the clearing. She stuck to the treeline, comfortable with the amount of coverage they gave her as she observed the beast she had now happened upon.
A griffin, part lion, part eagle. Male by the looks of his size and plumage. Beautiful creatures, in truth, but they were spectacular hunters and well known for toying with their prey. Right now, it was feeding on what appeared to be a deer. It was still alive, but only just. Enough to keep the griffin's attention from swaying Ciri's way.
Ciri swallowed and tightened her hold on the sword. A witcher would undoubtedly attack the creature should he happen upon it. Except maybe Geralt, who seemed to have a more altruistic outlook than most. He didn't care for killing just for the sake of killing, or to make monsters suffer just because he could. And as of right now, Ciri was unsure if any action on her part was necessary.
Should it see her, she had no doubt it'd attack. But if she could just sneak away… How could she murder something that had yet to give her cause for violence?
Did Mousesack know of this specimen, she wondered? Did Crach? Griffins were rarely seen this far north. She assumed they'd have heard had it taken any humans.
Cautiously and with deliberately slow movements, Ciri took a step back. And then another, briefly lowering her sword as she backed away. Until a brittle branch cracked beneath her foot and instantly gave her location away. The griffin's head snapped up and it turned around, peering in her direction. It did not take long before those shrewd eyes found their target. The beast shrieked as if in fury, sending a shiver down her back, and advanced. It moved rapidly and she automatically took a few more steps back, raising her sword anew to prepare for the battle she did not want.
The griffin swiped at her with his giant clawed paw once it was close enough to touch and forced her to dive out of the way. She rolled onto her shoulders and back and got back on her feet in one fluid motion, sword still raised in defense. The griffin paused as if assessing the situation, making her think she might be able to get out of this without having to shed blood, after all.
Another earthshattering shriek pierced the clearing.
She winced and resigned herself. No such luck.
Another screech sounded somewhere close by, and what happened next left Ciri truly befuddled. The griffin's attention flitted to the trees to her right for a mere brief moment, before it rushed back into the clearing, picked up the remains of the slaughtered deer, and took off into the sky.
Then… all was quiet.
It took Ciri a good few seconds before she lowered her sword, twirling slowly on the spot to examine every direction. She'd seen the griffin take off towards the mountains. There were rarely humans there so she didn't fear anyone was in immediate danger.
That other screech, though… Did it have a mate? Hatchlings somewhere? That could prove dangerous for the inhabitants of Ard Skellig. And why on earth had the griffin come here in the first place so close to winter? Was it sick? Confused?
Ciri pushed herself to move, to examine the area more carefully. There was nothing of interest in the clearing. Only flattened grass and blood from the deer. It was amongst the trees she found a clue. A dead rabbit. Its neck was broken and she saw no outward damage to it. That was also strange for a griffin's prey.
Finally, she put her sword away and picked up the rabbit, casually hanging it from her belt as she moved to climb the mountain where the griffin had disappeared to. Her curiosity was piqued now.
From a vantage point on a high branch of a tree not far from the clearing, someone watched her stroll through the woods. His rabbit hung on her belt. She didn't seem to be wanting to get away.
Shouldn't have saved her, he thought in a brief fit of disappointed anger. She was clearly about to track the beast.
He let her walk for a while, following on cat's feet while putting an arrow on his bow and keeping far enough to stay hidden but staying on her track. As soon as he made sure she moved toward the mountains, he crept closer, took aim and shot. The arrow stuck in a trunk on her eye-level. She must have felt the whoosh of air as it did. She whirled around, ducking, but he wasn't hiding, aiming at her with his next potential shot. He scowled noticing a witcher pendant hanging on her chest.
That explains it.
"Turn back now or I won't miss next time."
Ciri sucked in a sharp breath when she recognized the rush of an arrow, watching as it embedded itself deep within the trunk of a tree. That had been too close to her head for her liking.
She whirled around to search for the person who owned it and found him immediately, standing a short distance away, another arrow notched in his bow.
The threat to her life seemed unimportant for a few moments as she examined him, for something was nudging at the back of her mind, trying to make her remember.
He was a stranger. But she knew him, nonetheless. There was something about him. Something highly familiar about his beautiful face and the color of his hair.
Same as mine.
"It's you," she muttered, more to herself than anyone. The man from her dream. The one who had kept her nightmares at bay. How strange. Had it been a vision? A message from destiny herself? Did that mean this moment was important?
She tore her gaze off his face and onto the arrow aimed her way, raising one brow as if she'd only just noticed it. "Turn back from what?"
He caught her muttering, and it stupefied him what it could possibly mean. He was certain she couldn't have seen him before anywhere. Especially on the isles where he had arrived a day before.
"Go back to your village where you came from."
Where she came from? Originally or today? Ciri decided not to ask. It hardly mattered.
Didn't mean she was not irked by his insistence of giving her orders, however. "Why? What gives you more of a right to wander this land than me?"
"You're not wandering," he corrected. "You're tracking. You can't win this alone, so turn back."
Ah. So that was his beast. Stranger and stranger. She'd never known anyone to have tamed a griffin before.
Ciri slowly detached the rabbit from her belt and threw it his way, close enough that he would only need to take a few steps should he decide to collect it. "You dropped your dinner."
She moved to the side, for if he truly wanted her gone, she had to step around him. She never turned her back and never took her eyes off him or his arrow, gracefully maneuvering her way off the path leading to the mountain. "I take it the "dragon" is yours?"
He didn't even look at the rabbit and scowled in distaste at how she labeled the beast as "his" - so human.
"I own no dragons. Go now."
"You were seen," she said. "Village is buzzing. I happened upon you by coincidence, but others might come. Take care."
She was not entirely sure why it even mattered. Perhaps she simply saw something in his situation she could apply to her own past. There had once been an animal she'd been willing to kill for, as well. She understood.
Ciri backed away, further and further, but never took her eyes off of him. Not until he was finally out of view.
She put her back to the trunk of a tree and inhaled deeply, pushing down the instinct she had felt to defend herself using magical means. It would have meant the death of them both. Of everyone.
She stayed a short while, making sure he was not following, that he did not intend to fire an arrow in her back. And when she was certain, she went, making her way back down towards the druid camp.
He lowered the bow when she was out of sight and exhaled, letting the strain finally loosen his muscles a little as he put the weapon on his back along the sword. He picked up the rabbit and followed the girl's trail to make sure she truly went back. Her words about the possibility of a hunting party buzzed around his head. Perhaps they would be leaving sooner than he thought. Or they would have to pick another island.
"What was it?" Geralt asked, peering at the forest with alarm. The sounds reminded of a beast - more likely something bird-like.
Mousesack looked worried, staring in the same direction. "I have no idea, but Ciri went to walk in the woods.
Geralt took off before the Druid said anything else, expertly picking his path in the direction he recalled the sounds came from. After some minutes of sprinting - when the camp was far behind – he ran into Ciri.
They looked equally wary and surprised as they regarded each other. The Witcher scanned her from head to toe.
Ciri blinked up at Geralt once they quite literally collided with one another. Today was full of surprises. "Geralt? What are you–?" He cut her off, his gaze lifting over her head and to the trees behind her.
"You all right?" he asked. "What was that scream?"
He peered behind her, scanning the trunks and shrubs.
She assumed a pleasantly neutral expression, linking her arm through his and attempting to turn him back in the direction he had come, deciding to ignore his question entirely. "I thought you'd all gone already. What are you doing here?"
Geralt became an unmovable rock as she tried to sway him. He knew that look - she was hiding something.
And he thought he glimpsed that something far behind it. As if something slipped back and deeper into the woods. His body itched to chase.
"Don't play with me, Ciri. You were being followed. What happened? What is out there?"
In her failure to turn him Ciri braced her hands on his chest because just as he knew her, she knew him. He had that predatory look in his eyes.
She still was not entirely certain why she felt the need to protect the archer, why she even should. But those were her instincts. And she never could fight them. "Nothing worth pursuing. I am not harmed, nor was I going to be," she told him evenly, attempting to catch his gaze. "Hey… You trust me, don't you?"
Geralt spared her a short glance, still holding the spot where the pursuer disappeared. Geralt was still tempted to find out himself.
What if there was a trap? Elves or witches - anyone could have laid down one.
"Only when you tell me the truth. And you elude the answers. I can find out myself, so better tell me."
Ciri sighed and spoke quietly, calmly. "It was just a boy defending his friend. We ran into each other, all got scared, exchanged a few idle threats, then went our separate ways. All unharmed. Everything is fine. I know the whole lot of you think me incapable of simply taking a walk through the forest without running into trouble or impaling myself on my sword," she added grumpily. "But that is untrue. I am fine."
Scowling, Geralt processed the tale and found it unlikely and too strange. So much so that she took her eyes off the woods behind her to focus on her face.
"It didn't sound like a boy. And what boy could be out there? The woods are dangerous for kids."
Ciri groaned because he was getting stuck on the details. "Man, then! My age."
She watched him and couldn't tell whether or not he intended to pursue what he perceived to be a threat. Taking her hands off him, she stepped around him and backed down towards the camp. "But you do what you must. Why would my judgement matter?"
"No human makes a sound like that, Ciri," he said, grimly serious. "Boy or man. Unless it's a creature that lures you with a look of human. You of all people know that. So why are you taking me for a fool?"
"Because I don't want you to go in there!" This was shouted; that infamous temper rearing its ugly head. Ciri realized at once and regretted it, squeezed her eyes shut and breathed. To calm the buzzing in her ears, to still the sensation of electricity rippling under her skin. Like Avallac'h had taught her. "I can't explain how I know. But there is no danger. Only someone who wants to be left alone. So, please, Geralt, leave it. I need you to trust me."
Her outburst baffled him: had it been as simple, she'd be calmer and explained in detail. But she was trying to hide it instead.
"You don't want me to go but do little to tell me what is out there. What creature is out there, Ciri? And why are you protecting it when you can't explain your feelings? You know how many creatures can make one behave so? Enchant and subdue to their will and then you won't be able to explain why you did what you did?"
Ciri laughed; weak and feeble, without any real humor because none of this was funny. Would he even believe her if she told him? That she'd met a griffin who hunted deer rather than the druids nearby? Who had some sort of emotional connection to a mysterious archer? So much so it obeyed commands and signals?
"I am not enchanted nor subdued and I resent that accusation. But I know what it is like to have to hide from the world, to be wary of anyone and everyone."
The archer had not looked like he was from Skellige. Perhaps he'd been forced to flee from his true home because of the griffin? It was not only Witchers who hunted them, after all. "And there were so many times I wished, no, prayed, that those who saw me, those who noticed, would keep my secret. That they would not repeat what they had seen to others and let the word spread. This is not my secret. I have no right to share it."
Geralt stared at her long and hard, then nudged her to walk ahead of him with a hand. He threw another glance at the woods before following. This had to be looked into, but apparently not this very moment.
"Secrets like that can be dangerous for all parties, Ciri," Geralt reasoned quietly. "If there is someone in need of help out there, we could provide it before something bad happens."
Zoltan, unlike Geralt, didn't mind being portaled, so he and Yennefer had no need for the horses. They appeared in the middle of the druids' camp. Fortunately none of them reacted – not to Zoltan at least. As soon as they recognized her, there seemed to be a hum of disagreement and discord. She guessed they still hadn't forgiven her for the artefact she had stolen.
The sorceress paid no mind, going in search of Geralt and Ciri, Zoltan on her heels.
Some of the tension eased off Ciri's shoulder when Geralt seemingly gave in to her pleas. For now at least. Ciri walked him down towards the camp. "I know." Though she doubted the archer would let anyone close enough to talk. He hadn't seemed in the mood for company.
"I don't mean to keep things from you. But there is a feeling – the kind of feeling that warns me when something unpleasant is about to happen, or when I can see glimpses of someone's past without ever having known them – that this is best left alone for now. And those instincts have never let me down yet. I must trust them. And I wish you could trust me as well."
"What glimpses are you talking about? Did something of the sort happen here? You have… visions?" It brought him back to the memories of her blacking out in those horrifying trances. The idea of them being back scared him a lot.
"It happens," Ciri shrugged, unconcerned about that. "Sometimes in dreams. Sometimes it is just a feeling, telling me not to continue on my path, that danger awaits around the next bend.
"I had visions of you and Yennefer while with the Aen Elle. Of Yen being tormented by Vilgelfortz and you freezing to death in some horrid blizzard. And I knew it was the truth." She paused, silent a while. "They come and go."
Dreams, Geralt thought. She was having dreams like visions and she remembered them. Unlike with all the creepy visions she had in those trances as a child. Perhaps it wasn't too bad and was just another manifestation of her powers. Something she still couldn't control. He wondered if Avallac'h ever tried to help her with those aside from the world-jumping.
The appearance of Yennefer heading towards them up the path, stunned her further. Pleased her, certainly, but puzzled, nonetheless.
"Why are you still here? Are you staying?"
Yennefer walked toward them with Zoltan in tow.
"We took our time," Zoltan replied to Ciri. "Came to see ye before we went. Something happened? Why ye here?"
"No, we're not staying," Yennefer supplied as they walked up to the two. "Unless we should?" It hadn't taken him much to know that something was being discussed between the two. "Everything fine?" she asked, mimicking Zoltan's question in a way. She hadn't been gone that long that there was a possibility of trouble, was there?
"I went for a walk to clear my mind. Everything is fine."
Ciri looked around Yennefer, expecting to see Dandelion skip along behind her. He didn't. "Left the troubadour with Mousesack?"
Geralt looked back at the trees and shrubs, scanning them to make sure that person or creature didn't linger behind.
"Took him back to Novigrad." Yennefer followed Geralt's gaze to the trees, having taken a peek into his mind—as he hated—to see what she was missing so that she wouldn't be clueless. "You sure?" she asked once more, reaching for Ciri's face, moving to pull her into a hug, expelling a sigh as if to say 'don't answer that'. "Are you sure you're going to be fine without us?"
Ciri wanted them to stay. She wanted that more than anything. But she also knew the work they were going to in Novigrad was important. "Of course. I'm always okay," she murmured into her hair, hugging her back. "Let's just get this whole Hunt thing over with. Take a two day break before we have to start all over again with the next enemy."
Another attempt at a weak joke. And yet, there was truth to it. It would never stop. She was certain of that.
"Let's just go back to the camp for a start," Geralt said and led the way.
"Two days only?" Yennefer asked into her hair. It felt like they should take a lifetime break after everything they'd endured and would endure going forward. Yennefer pressed a kiss to her hair, releasing her so they could link arms, walking beside her slowly as they headed back to camp.
Mousesack met them with a worried frown. "Ye all fine? What happened out there?"
"I should ask you the same thing," Geralt said and pointed at the woods behind them. "What's out there?"
"Wolves, bears, trolls, nekkers, many things," Mousesack said. "You name it. You know all that."
"Not what I meant," the Witcher said and looked at Ciri.
Mousesack did not look happy to see Yennefer, his frown carefully in place and etched to his features like stone. He answered Geralt's questions politely enough – ones that made Yennefer want to know more of what they'd missed. She glanced behind her and then met Ciri's gaze questioningly.
"Were you hunting out there?"
Ciri tried to evade Geralt's gaze, but Yennefer managed to catch her eyes. "No. I was walking," she said, moving away a little from the group to warm her cold hands over the fire and drape the deer pelts over her shoulders.
"She met someone – or something – in the woods," the Witcher said quietly when Ciri went away toward the bonfire. He looked between Yennefer and Mousesack. "She doesn't want to talk about it. So I'm asking you, Mousesack, what is out there?"
The Druid stiffened, undecided, and grunted into his moustache. "Nothing that would harm her, Geralt. You have my word."
Zoltan cursed quietly. "What kind of secrets are there, old druid? Ye keep some ghost ye wanna hide?"
"It's not a ghost," Mousesack scoffed. "He's a half-elf, taking refuge here from the main land. He wouldn't harm anyone."
"How well do you know him?" Geralt asked.
"As well as I know you, Geralt. You have my word."
If that's all it was, they why was Geralt questioning what she'd said, his energy giving off waves of concern. Mousesack appeared to take pity on him thankfully, alleviating of Yennefer's fears.
She moved to Geralt's side, taking a hold of his hand, squeezing it lightly although she knew the simple act wouldn't and wasn't going to be as calming as it might have been in the past.
"If Ermion says that he's of no risk – then we can believe him." He didn't have any ill will toward Ciri and had never been anything but good to her. "He wouldn't put Ciri in harm's way."
Geralt knew that despite his own concerns. Yennefer left him to it though, striding over to Ciri.
"What's your take on the boy?"
Ciri glanced sharply at Mousesack, surprised, though she shouldn't have been. Of course the Druid knew. He knew everything that happened on this island.
She returned her gaze to the fire, listening as they spoke. Half-elf? Explained the hair. Elven genes. And as she suspected, he was in hiding.
She didn't look up until Yennefer spoke her name. She shrugged.
"Does it matter? No matter my opinion you'd all still think him a threat of some sort."
"Of course it matters," Yennefer said, ignoring her petulant grievance. Ciri wasn't giving any kind of energy to suggest that she'd felt threated by the boy. "But you're right. We worry about you. We have every right to. It's not as if it's without cause."
Zoltan scratched his head, glancing after Yennefer and Ciri, then peered at Mousesack. "What's that story? Yer giving harbor to fugitive elves now, eh?"
"If he needs a refuge, it means he did things he's wanted for," Geralt said.
"He's wanted for being a halfblood," Mousesack said. "And that's all. He's not fond of humans or company in general because of that. He wouldn't harm the girl, but wouldn't encourage her to stay around, either."
"What was the screeching cry?" Geralt asked. Zoltan looked surprised.
Mousesack shrugged. "Woods make sounds, Geralt. There's a lot of animals and creatures out there. Leave it. She's not going back there. Don't worry about it."
Yennefer eased an arm around her waist, to hug Ciri to her side, a slow smile on her lips. "There a reason you didn't just come out and say that's what you saw out there?"
Ciri didn't like the insinuation in Yennefer's voice. It brought a flush of pink to her cheeks and she didn't truly know why. "Wasn't my secret to tell," she said simply, repeating what she'd told to Geralt earlier. "Can we focus on the mission at hand now? You have to work quickly. The longer you're gone, the longer I have to spend 'training' with Avallac'h. And that's not going to well. We might kill each other before The Hunt can even reach us."
"Wasn't it?" Yennefer asked, ignoring her attempts to push onto the next topic for a moment. Ciri had to know what the unknown would do to Geralt's mind, especially now, on the brink of war. Every little thing was a threat and had to be seen to. It didn't matter that it was harmless.
"You've survived the mage two years. A day or two isn't going to make much difference."
Although given what little Yennefer knew about him, she had to admit she was surprised Ciri'd survived the elf this long. Yennefer'd have tired of him quickly.
"Would you like Zoltan to stay?"
She knew they needed him, that Geralt had plans for him, but if he was able to stay, to put Ciri at ease and give her another option for a reprieve to be able to take a break from the elf, then so be it.
Yennefer wanted that for her and wanted her to feel as if it was her choice this time.
Ciri eyed the dwarf in question, gauging whether or not he'd be able to hear them from here. Then shook her head. "He'll be of more use to you in Novigrad."
Besides, it felt as though the only reason Yennefer even presented the option to begin with, was so that he could keep an eye on Ciri. Ciri was rather tired of being watched. She preferred solitude to guards.
"I'll stop worrying when there are no secrets or dangers around her, which, by the look of things, is not today," Geralt said, folding his arms, eyeballing Mousesack. "How do you know him so well?"
The Druid sighed and lowered on a moss-covered trunk of a fallen tree that served as a bench. "He spent some years in Brokilon under the Queen Eithne's protection."
"Was he on their murderous spree, as well?" Geralt inquired, raising an eyebrow.
Mousesack scowled. "They never ventured out to kill, you know that."
"But they did kill a lot of innocents along with soldiers," Zoltan added, folding his arms. "The dryads and whoever they took under their wing can't be dismissed as harmless folk."
"This boy shall not harm anyone. He left Brokilon a while ago."
"Fine," Geralt concluded. "Just pray it stays this way you say, Mousesack."
"It will," the Druid said. "I don't feel he'll stay long, either. Just rest assured he and Ciri will not cross paths."
Geralt nodded.
"I'm going to be fine," Ciri assured her. "It's you lot who has to worry. Novigrad is no place for those who are… different."
Yennefer supposed that he would be, that they could use everything hand possibly available to get a hold of Philippa, especially since she didn't want to be found.
"We've navigated Novigrad for years. Then, now, makes no difference – we know our way around. Besides, we've eyes there to watch our backs and fronts as needed."
Yennefer squeezed her shoulders, taking advantage of the closeness, of their time together while she could and then peered at the group of men, raising her voice slightly to grab their attention.
"It's getting late—we'd best be on our way."
"Aye, time we get goin," Zoltan said, nodding as Yennefer approached. "That is if ye help us, Ermion."
"Of course," the Druid said. "I shall wait for your return or any news of where you want me. I shall help with everything I can during the battle."
"Thank you," Geralt said.
He nodded and opened the portal. "I believe it's the right location for you, Zoltan."
"I'm sure ye got it right just like before," the dwarf said, then bid them farewell and stepped in. The portal closed.
"Have a nice journey, good luck with your trials," the druid told them. "Don't worry about the girl, this place is as safe as it can be under the circumstances. For as long as she doesn't use her power, these islands will keep her secret." He nodded and started away toward his cave. The sun was beginning to set, the sky turned reddish.
Geralt went to Ciri to hug her before they left.
"Please, stay away from trouble," he asked when they pulled away from the embrace. A small smile played over his lips. "And those woods. Keep closer to people you know, all right?"
Ciri wrapped an arm around Yennefer in return and hugged her, letting go only when she stepped aside to allow Geralt to embrace her, too. "I'll be safe," Ciri promised, though she knew it was one she couldn't truly give. Safety never came easily to her. "I'll be cautious," she amended. "If you promise the same."
"We've never failed you on it before," Geralt said, smirking. "We raised you at Kaer Morhen under the same principles each of us witchers has been raised before you. Caution, reason, thinking before doing – all those are habits since early on. Just don't let your emotions make you forgo any of them." He pulled her for a kiss to her forehead, then let go. "I love you very much."
Leaving her behind this time hurt dozens of times more than the day before. It tugged at his very soul with intense pain as he stepped through the portal.
Yennefer waited until both Geralt and Zoltan had slipped into the portal, their mere presence within the magic barrier having pulled at her, weakening her slightly, insisting she go.
She blew her a kiss, offered a finger wave and then stepped inside, swallowed by the swirl of gold light.
"I love you always," Ciri whispered, watching them disappear into the portal.
She wasn't sure if she should stay and talk to Mousesack. No doubt he would tell her what Geralt had.
Stay away from the boy.
And she intended to. She thought she intended to.
But then… "Mousesack?"
Ciri followed him to his cave.
Mousesack turned to the sound of the girl's voice, a bit surprised. "You want something, child?"
"The archer in the woods. The half-elf," she began, coming to a halt just inside the entrance. "He came last night?"
Mousesack sighed, shaking his head subtly. "He arrived the night before. Why does it interest you? His presence in that forest influences nothing, my dear child. Let your mind rest easy."
"My mind doesn't rest easy," Ciri admitted. "You said he was in the Brokilon Forest with Queen Eithne. Would he have been there when I was?"
"No," he said firmly. "No, he wasn't. You have never met before, I assure you."
Ciri nodded slowly, not sure if she was relieved or concerned about that answer. "Alright. Thank you, Mousesack."
She turned to leave, seeking her horse with her gaze amongst the other few animals at this camp.
"Cirilla," the Druid called, his eyes gleaming with concern in the light of candles. "Your mind could never rest easy once a spark of curiosity was ignited there. That never changed. And it's not too bad a trait, except for when curiosity leads to something utterly different from your anticipation. If I can help you sate that unease in your mind – ask. He will not take your curiosity kindly. I advise you do not try. Not because you can't protect yourself, but because he might happen to be better at it."
Ciri paused in the entryway, kept her back to him as he spoke. She bristled slightly at his last statement. "Because I cannot use my powers?" She shook her head, immediately regretting bringing that up. "Never mind. That's not important. I–"
Silence again, uncertainty of how to ask or even if she should. After a few long seconds she stepped back towards him, awarding them more privacy than had she stayed in the cave-opening. "He was in my dreams. The archer. Last night. For years I've had nightmares, every time I sleep. For as long as I can remember. But last night… there was just him. So when I saw him in the forest I was… surprised."
She looked up at the Druid from under her lashes, watching him in the semi-darkness. "Do you think it means something?"
Mousesack was indeed surprised. And more troubled. He hummed pensively, pacing slowly across the room while he reflected. Then turned back to the girl: "You saw his so clearly that you recognized him? How close did he get to you? It's a wonder you even saw him. Knowing him, he'd stay out of sight."
"Close enough," she said, frowning softly as if trying to conjure the memory. "And it was more than his looks. It was a feeling. You know the one." He had to. He was a mage, too. He should understand intuition and magical instinct more than anyone. "There's a familiarity. And I may not be a master sorceress but I do know my own powers well enough to know when something is out of the ordinary. Important. That dream… it was the most relief I have felt in years. Like a safe space where I could not be touched. Not by memories, not by visions of the future, not by Eredin. It was just… quiet."
Mousesack was peering at her with concerned sympathy. "I do understand what you feel, child. It can be your power reaching out to some images without explanations. You can cross space and time, Ciri, and your power can summon images of things and people you don't know. It doesn't necessarily mean that you two have a connection. It might not be what it seems, even if it feels so, because you haven't felt it before. You feel that you're in danger – rightfully so – and your mind, your soul, your power reach out in search of salvation, solution, anything. Any hope. What comes in the dreams cannot always mean what it seems. You understand?"
The Druid sighed and let on a small sad smile.
"He might have seemed like peace in your dream, but he is anything but that in reality."
Ciri watched him for a long moment and though some of his explanation made sense, it still didn't sit right with her. Something about it was off. "Is that the truth?" she asked softly, smiling a little. "Or what you wish it to be?"
One of them was wishing and only one could get what they wanted. She just didn't know which one of them it was yet.
She nodded again, slowly. "I shall take that under consideration. Meditate on it, as Avallac'h would say."
"If you ask about my assessment of him – yes, it is the truth. I would not deceive you. It would be best for you to forget it and find peace in people that love you, my child." The Druid embraced her, kissed her head, and stepped back. "Go with peace and gods."