"Go ahead, I need a moment."
Geralt stopped, eyeballing him with suspicious inquiry. "What are you talking about? We better not part—"
"I know what I'm talking about. You'll have to trust me on this. I'll find you and I'll help – better than I can right now. Just go ahead and get to your friends. I'll catch up."
He was reluctant to refrain from further questions and arguments, but nodded, nonetheless, and jogged ahead gaining speed.
Kain took a few deep breaths, closed his eyes and let the sounds of fiery booms and bombs and hounds dissolve into the background. He heard his heart beat, and that rhythmic sound flooded his senses as he lowered onto one knee planting his palms on the ground, his head lowering in deepening concentration. He searched for the connection and worked on making the bond more solid. Nothing else mattered.
Time didn't matter…
Time was an illusion…
So was he…
Loud screams of pain spurred Geralt's feet; he ran faster, skirting around the trees as he drew the sword. He slammed into the scuffle silver blazing and swirling like barely visible sparks. Lambert was trying to drag Coen away from a bunch of hounds surrounding them. Letho and now Geralt did their best, swords slashing and swinging, to keep the group of five knights busy.
"Retreat to the horses!" Geralt yelled to Lambert. "Throw the bomb and retreat!"
"Can't!" Lambert called back, slashing at the snarling hounds. "Too many!"
"Dammit," Geralt hissed. He slid the sword into one of the knights' armpit, then slammed into another; Letho attacked the other two.
Kain appeared between the hounds and Lambert still holding Coen upright before either could truly notice. One of the hound's heads flew up in the air, bounced against the ground and rolled down the hill past Lambert's retreating boots. Another hound howled and lost its front legs before its head detached and rolled. The third one bristled preparing to make ice spikes but had no time to perform before falling apart in two even halves.
In the space of no thoughts and naked, charged vision, Kain had more time than any of them to react properly. The Knights he moved on to were slow compared to his sword. They still had to think while he didn't.
Borrowed and shared energy buzzed in his veins like liquid lightning eager to strike; all four Knights were dead on the ground before a minute was up.
"Kain!" Geralt called when Kain bolted away to the next group he sensed ahead. He couldn't respond. He couldn't afford losing the power before it ran out.
"What the bloody hell," Letho drawled, staring after him.
"The hell is wrong with him?" Lambert reacted, then added, "Whatever the fuck, it's neat. We have to get back, Geralt, Coen's hit."
"What happened?" Geralt asked, trying to examine their friend.
"One of the hounds got him on the fucking spikes," Lambert said. "He'll die if we don't get him home."
"Then go back," Geralt said. We'll try to do more while we can here."
Lambert set back to the horses and Geralt with Letho ran in the direction Kain had gone. They found another dead group of four Knights and two hounds on their way, but didn't stop to examine the scene. They heard the fighting ahead.
Ciri was watching Vesemir patrol the outer walls of the keep, one hand at his sword so he could draw it in an instant. The others were down in the courtyard, including Hjalmar and his rowdy men, sick of the wait and eager for the bloodshed to commence.
"How long will Yen be able to keep the shield up?" she asked Avallac'h with a note of concern.
"Not for long," he said, deceptively calm. She knew he was scared, too. Not for his own life, but for hers. The continued survival of his people depended on her, after all.
Yennefer was no longer part of the fight, disembodied, a temporary gauge for the current that swept through her to maintain the field, a current that was weakening at a rapid pace and made her heart beast faster.
'Hurry! Hurry!' she mentally pushed, trying to summon the serpent, hopeful he'd heed her call before she unwittingly dropped the shield or passed out and there was nothing she could do for Geralt and Ciri anymore.
"Someone's coming," Ciri pointed out, watching Vesemir climb down from the wall to meet someone at the gate. Lambert was the first one she saw, though someone was slumped in the saddle in front of him. Her heart caught in her throat.
Coen.
"Oh Gods, he's hurt. We have to go help him."
"Not our problem," Avallac'h said coolly, lifting his hand to gesture at something in the scene before them. "Besides, who better to tend to him than his own. The witchers have their potions."
Vesemir and Lambert were half dragging, half carrying Coen between them, moving him further into the courtyard before finally putting him down where he could rest his back against the wall. They immediately plied him with potions.
She silently pleaded with Coen's body to heal itself.
The magic began to wane eventually, and one of the Knights Kain was fighting slid his sword across his shoulder, forcing the Cat to fall back a few steps as his focus wobbled. Geralt caught a moment and stabbed his sword between the metal ribs of the knight's armor, then engaged the other one that came at them.
"You all right, Cat?" Letho's impassive drawl came from behind them.
"It's fine," he managed, dashed into the other one, skirting around him to slice across the backs of the knees, and then stabbed his sword into the Knight's neck below the helmet.
Kain stabbed his sword into the ground, lowering on one knee to catch his breath and regain the balance.
"Are you all right?" Geralt asked, approaching. "What was all this?"
"This magic… it's like a trance," he explained, getting back up to his feet. "It's highly effective, but draining. I can't use it for prolonged time, for my physical body can't sustain that kind of power for long without damage."
"We have to get the horses and move back," Geralt said, casting a brief considering look at the Cat's bleeding shoulder. "We've taken care of quite a few groups—"
"Look at this," Letho called. He pointed ahead. "They're regrouping."
"See that one leading the group?" Geralt said. "It's Imlerith, one of the generals. It means they're out of cannon meat and we need to pull back."
"Signal Merigold," Letho said, heading in the direction they had left the horses, starting to jog.
Geralt charged his small crossbow and fired up. A fire bolt whooshed and flashed bright orange high above the forest treetops, then arched and descended like a falling star.
After a few long moments, nothing happened.
"Dammit," Geralt hissed. "Something's not right with Triss. What if they breached inside already? Came from the other side?"
"Mousesack would be somewhere there to take care of it," Kain reasoned.
Geralt shrugged. "Whatever happened, Triss is not responding. It's not good."
"Let's go," Kain nudged him in the shoulder, and they jogged after Letho.
Another group cut them from the route to the horses, and they had to fight back. When they managed to kill those five, the group with the commander Imlerith was behind them.
"We have no choice but to try to kill him, you know," Letho said. "Not much else we can do here without Merigold's support."
"Another group between us and the horses," Kain put in.
Geralt shook his head and assumed the stance. "Keep close, back to back, if needed. We can't let them cut us down one by one." He cast a quick glance at Kain. "If there's any more juice left in that magic of yours, you have to use it."
Kain touched his palms to the ground and tried to find it.
Avallac'h and Ciri were both silent. Geralt had issued the signal but Triss was not responding. Something was wrong. "Have they gotten through? I don't… Yennefer's shield is still up, is it not?"
"It is," Avallac'h confirmed, his eyes narrowed as he examined the looking glass. "But her strength must be waning."
"Triss needs help."
"Zireael–"
Ciri vanished in a flash of green and appeared in the outer courtyard, sword already drawn. She ran up the stairs to the outer wall, trying to get a good look at what she could expect as she got closer.
Vesemir was there, having just finished off one Rider and dodging another. He got to his feet beside her and glared.
"You were supposed to be inside."
"Yeah," she mused, eyes set on the path ahead where a few elves where confidentially striding towards them.
"Go back in!" the old man cried, his yellow eyes flashing with anger and fear.
"Triss needs help. Geralt needs help."
He had seen it, too. Had surely noticed. That was why he'd been trying to get through to the sorceress, to help her with whatever was hindering her using her powers.
He sighed. "Get behind me. I'll take care of them."
She looked to the oncoming enemies and felt her lips twitch. "Not necessary."
Like before, she vanished in a flash of green, reappearing a few feet ahead at an incredible momentum with her sword braced. Swallow cut through their waists like butter as she slid from one elf and onto the other, slicing just where their armor was weakest. They fell immediately and she felt a sick sense of satisfaction.
Fight without ecstasy. Geralt's lesson. One she could not adhere to at the moment. She reveled too much in moving the way she had become accustomed to during the short time she had been able to use her powers freely, to dash and leap and twirl like a vengeful specter.
She ran the short distance that separated Triss and her now and saw that a portal had opened right beside the sorceress. She was fighting them off valiantly, men and beasts, but they kept coming and she had no chance to close the portal. Nor provide Geralt and the others with the cover they needed to make their return.
Ciri stuck her sword into the elf who was facing Triss and had his back to her, then dashed to a hound to deliver another fatal strike, continuing to the next with the same treatment.
Triss gasped at the sight of her but did not stop her own battle, throwing fire at those who came too near, setting a hound fully alight and rendering him nothing more than charred flesh. When they had taken them all, she turned to Ciri, her pretty face pinched in concern.
"You were supposed to wait inside!"
"Who would have saved your tiny ass then?" Ciri teased, flicking blood off her blade.
"Ciri, look out!"
Ciri turned just in time to see another warrior step out of the portal behind her. He backhanded her before she could react and her sword dropped from her hand. She staggered from the impact.
Triss thrust her hands out and claimed the weapon with her magic sending it flying straight into the warrior's abdomen. Collecting herself, Ciri ran at him, took hold of Swallow's hilt and drove him backwards, withdrawing the sword just before he tumbled over the edge of the keep and down into the rocky abyss below.
Triss threw her a look Ciri interpreted to mean 'You were saying?' and quickly closed the portal. Then she finally started on the task she had meant to do all along.
The power didn't come as it did earlier. The power stung like actual lightning and didn't allow for the same immersed sensation of ease. Kain was pushing the limit without a sufficient time in-between.
Nevertheless, they held their own back to back, as Geralt instructed. More and more portals opened around them, as if they were a marked spot. More soldiers came out, more hounds approached. The witchers had no moment to catch a breath, rolling, dodging, slicing and stabbing. Dead Knights fell to be replaced with more coming out of shining spheres. Kain felt his muscles tremble with strain, and his pulse was beginning to be deafening.
"Watch out!" Geralt suddenly screamed, pushing the Cat down on a knee. They cowered, and fire rained around them, taking out groups of black Knights along with their portals. It happened fast, but felt as a small end of times rehearsal played by nature.
They stood up, panting, and observed the bodies.
"We have to go now," Geralt emphasized, and whistled, jogging toward the horses.
The mounts came at full gallop, scared, and barely slowed down to take the riders as they raced wildly toward the only home and safety they remembered behind the castle walls.
"You have to go back inside," Triss urged her with a hand on her shoulder as they watched Geralt, Kain, and Letho gallop up the road and through the open gates. "Now! I'll go help with the portals in the courtyard."
Ciri didn't make her any promises but blinked away, up to one of the shorter towers connected to the inner courtyard. Avallac'h was nowhere to be seen but she assumed he was somewhere nearby. He had no reason to remain inside without her.
She stood behind one of the thick stone pillars, partially obscuring her body from view, watching her allies down below as they worked to close the portals that opened up every now and then. They seemed to be doing fine for the moment, but Ciri dreaded to think what would happen when Yennefer's shield collapsed fully.
"A couple of large groups approaching from the woods!" Vesemir called from up on the wall. "We need to close the gate now before they get inside!"
"I'll do it," Geralt said, bolting up the path to climb up onto another level to get to the wall.
Letho and Kain didn't object: no sooner than they dismounted, two portals flashed into existence in the opposite sides of the yard before them; the hounds poured out, followed by more Knights. Horses neighed, rearing up, and dashed back toward the bridge. The two witchers unclasped their last bombs, throwing them into the portals and ducking as they exploded. The spheres dissipated only to be replaced by three more, surrounding them with the enemy troops coming from them. The more they cut down, the more were coming out in a never-ending circle.
Ciri watched the open gate leading to the second courtyard where Triss, Hjalmar, and his men were fighting, expecting to see Geralt, Kain, and the others come through it at any moment. But they didn't. What was keeping them?
She raised her gaze towards Yennefer's tower. She was still there. Still holding up the spell with immense effort and even from this distance Ciri could tell it was draining her, her arms shaking slightly.
"Hold on, Mum," she whispered, seeking Geralt and Kain with her eyes once more. "Just a little while longer."
More and more portals were opening downstairs and Ciri could tell Triss was struggling to find the time to close them again. Ciri dashed down with her sword, jumping back and forth from the tower in short violent bursts that took out the enemies nearest her, allowing her to continue with her task.
Lambert came to the two witchers' aid, as they had noticed at some point between slashing the hounds and dodging the Knights. There were too many, and as much as Kain could still utilize the energy he strained to maintain, he couldn't cut down as much as he had to.
They were surrounding the witchers as if to squash between their heavily armed bodies. Lambert cried out as one of the knights cut him across the thigh. Letho pulled him away and they stood back to back. Another Rider got Kain in the already damaged shoulder, renewing the bleeding.
And then the whole bunch crowding them flew up in a cloud of crackling energy, then slammed into the ground around them. They looked up, astonished, to see the blonde sorceress on the wall observing them. Lambert raised his hand in thanks, and they began to work their way toward the center of the outer yard, trying to get as many hunters on their way as they could.
"Where is Coen?" Letho asked Lambert in a pause between the fencing.
"He's in the inner yard with Eskel. Patched up a bit, but still not so good. Still planning to fight though."
"We only stop when we're dead," Letho said and attacked another bunch coming from a new portal.
There they were, finally. Vesemir appeared first, with Letho and Lambert in tow. Vesemir ran up the pathway and to the ballista perched on the edge of the plateau, readying himself to fire it at the gate he had just entered.
Letho and Lambert hurried to help the others with the remaining portals and Ciri disappeared back upstairs again, where she could wipe blood off her sword and assess the situation from up high.
As soon as Geralt pulled the lever and the gates lowered down, a group of hunters came through Yennefer's shimmering barrier with Imlerith leading them. He yelled in rage and began to slam his giant club into the wooden gate. Those weren't going to hold on for long, from the looks of things.
Geralt turned back and ran along the wall. Mousesack was no longer on the tower – Vesemir was yelling for them all to pull back.
"Yennefer's shield is failing! PULL BACK! TOWARD THE KEEP! EVERYBODY PULL BACK!"
It was getting out of hand; the portals were opening everywhere. Geralt ran as fast as he could into the outer courtyard where everybody seemed to have gathered. He took more bombs from the crates prepared along the walls while Vesemir fired their old ballista into the passage behind the Witcher. A pile of huge rocks blocked the entrance before another big group of hunters reached it. Hounds growled and howled behind the blockade.
In the short moment Geralt had, he observed their forces and it didn't seem good. Lambert was limping, his leg bleeding. Letho was holding up all right, but Geralt saw he was getting close to exhaustion. Kain was bleeding, too, but whatever power drove him still kept his speed and reactions. It wasn't bad. It was better than any witcher fought, and Geralt realized why the Cat School decided to not change him.
More portals grew around the yard like mushrooms after rain, spilling more hunters; hounds ran around rampant. Mousesack could barely keep up with his staff and spells throwing them around and snapping their spines. Keira was on the wall chanting, and more Riders flew up and against the stone walls of the keep breaking their bones and necks.
If Geralt had to imagine hell or the end of the world – it seemed very close to what his mind could have conjured.
"Retreat to the main courtyard!" Vesemir called once the first gate had collapsed in a heap of brick and stone. He and Geralt approached but found the passage they needed to still be closed.
"Where is Eskel?" Ciri heard Vesemir ask. "He was supposed to open the gate."
Ciri turned and moved to face the main courtyard, peering down at the red-clad man who was far away from the doors and was fighting someone very familiar. Caranthir – one of Eredin's generals.
"Eskel is in trouble," she called down to Triss. "I'll go help him."
Ciri didn't wait for a response, blinking downstairs to where the others could not enter just in time to see Caranthir slam his staff into Eskel's chest, sending him flying back and crashing to the ground in what looked like a devastating fall. The elf was advancing on him quickly.
She readied her own sword and whistled for him, catching the elf's attention and steering him away from Eskel so he could recover.
She leapt at him in an attack. He blocked, then advanced, forcing her to parry his strong blow. She dodged his lethal staff, attacked whenever she had an opportunity but did not land a single blow until she vanished in thin air and appeared behind him, slicing at his back.
He growled and turned to her as she readied her sword again, already very aware he had the advantage of strength and height, but prepared to face him, nonetheless. The sound of a horn rung through the valley and the elf paused his progression, eyed her one last time, then turned and walked away, dispersing into frosty particles.
He left behind four warriors who immediately advanced on them.
Puzzled by the turn of events, Ciri reached out to Eskel and helped him to his feet, the two of them battling the remaining elves until they all lay dead and they were the victors.
"You should have stayed inside, sat your ass down like you were supposed to!" Eskel chided, slightly out of breath.
"Who would have saved yours then?" she countered, sheathing her sword and running down to the wheel that would allow her to open the gate for Geralt and the rest.
Bombs did their job, but it seemed it was a waste of efforts. Geralt had no idea where the Hunt took all the powers to command so many portals, but they kept sending more and more troops in. Every available fighter on the keep's side used the bombs and made efforts to close as many as they could, but soon enough the crates along the wall were empty. They didn't have too much of dimeritium to begin with. It was up to Yrden sign now.
Triss and Mousesack were struggling on the upper level when Geralt finally made his way there. Together they managed the three portals there and finished off the hunters. He was beginning to feel sick, his head was swimming a little.
"You all right?" he asked Triss.
She nodded, her eyes darting around. "Yes, thank you. I thought I wouldn't be… too many, Geralt. There are too many. I'm not sure if we can—"
Another ball of gleaming energy appeared a few yards from them spilling hounds and three knights in tow. Mousesack and Geralt started their way; Triss blinked in a flash of fire and slammed a fireball into their middle, granting them the moment to attack.
When the elves were dead, Triss looked up at the wall over the inner yard gates, still firmly closed.
"What's with Eskel?" she yelled, and Geralt saw Ciri standing up there. "We have to retreat!"
"He has to open the gates now," Vesemir said.
Kain, Letho and Lambert pulled closer to the rest.
"We retreating or what?" Lambert said, pressing his bloody hand to the wounded thigh.
"Not yet, apparently," Letho commented, looking down at the enemies approaching.
"Stand back a little," Kain said stepping forward. He stabbed his sword into the ground and crouched, palms pressing to the soil once again. His head lowered in concentration.
They all stepped back, and it seemed there was no time. Hounds were too close, almost upon him already. One of them leapt…
His head snapped up at the hound, and it flashed engulfed in fire, still airborne. It fell down while each of the hound and Knights following it and coming up the stony stairs to get to the keep defenders and the next gate – their last gate – caught fire that seemed to be coming up from the earth itself, traveling like currents from where Kain touched the ground and to each of the targets. They came alight like dry twigs, screaming and running and falling down like charred dolls.
When Geralt looked back at Kain, the Cat was careening sideways. Geralt dashed and crouched next to him, stopping his fall. He was pale as a ghost.
"You shouldn't have," Geralt said quietly. "You can't keep it up. We'll manage."
"Oh, will you," he said weakly, attempting to get up. Geralt helped, and he staggered back with the Witcher to the others.
"Come on, Eskel," Vesemir muttered, as they watched two more portals open and let in another two teams. They began to come up the stairs. "Come on…"
The Hunters were before them first, and they threw themselves into battle despite the exhaustion. Before they had finished, however, the mechanism of the gate began to work.
"Eskel is opening the gate!" Vesemir said. "Pull back now!"
Geralt pulled Kain with him and they did.
The first thing Geralt saw was Ciri at the gate wheel. He left Kain to double over to catch his breath, and stepped to her, scowling. "Why are you out here?"
"Opening the gate," she said, looking from Geralt to a near-exhausted Kain, and back again. "You are welcome."
"They're coming in through the gaps!" Eskel called, then rushed to an unconscious Coen who'd been propped up against a bale of hay. Triss ran to them both as Vesemir started barking orders.
"Dimeritium bombs! There are more in the crates along the wall. We have to close those portals!"
Ciri left the bombs to them, drew her sword again and advanced, darting around the chaotic battlefield and slashing at anything and everything that screamed enemy.
Kain didn't go for the bombs as Vesemir ordered – there was enough of volunteers – and placed his palms on the ground to establish the link and draw from it once again. There was no way to use the fire as he had earlier while the Hunters fought the keep defenders everywhere. He couldn't hit ones and not the others. He opted for the swordfight and individual fire attacks. More and more portals began to open around.
"They're coming from the breach in the wall!" Eskel called from a level higher. Geralt and Kain rushed there to provide assistance. Coen was slumped at the wall. Even the brief look Kain cast at him told him the witcher was dying. Kain glimpsed a new wound in his chest, probably from a sword this time. Not far from him lay one of the Skellige prince's men, his intestines being pulled apart by two hounds.
The troops caught outside the yard were slamming something heavy against the gate.
"They're gonna get in soon!" Lambert called. "We have to get inside!"
With most of the portals closed with the defenders' joined efforts to make most of the dimeritium bombs left, they all looked to the gates and watched the white of frost creep over it like a live mold. The cold began to bite their skin, their breaths fanned out in thick white puffs.
Kain sensed the moment the last of the remaining shielding power fell around the castle. And then, the gate shattered like a smashed piece of pottery, letting in a white wave of the Frost.
Instinctively, he dove down behind a piece of rocky border and used the remaining magic power for a shield. The icy breath of Frost still seeped into his bones; he heard their heavy footsteps entering the yard. The grass before him was sticking up like made of glass. It broke like it with a little crystal-like ring to it as he scrambled to his feet and peeked out. Geralt, Eskel, Lambert, those he could see were frozen in place as if trapped in thick layer of glass. They weren't moving. They weren't dead, either, but he had no idea what would happen if one of the Hunters decided to smash a sword into them.
Would they fall to pieces like the gate?
From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Vesemir pulling Ciri away. She was staggering and dazed.
It all happened so quickly. The doors burst open and a rush of wintery air flew inside the keep, rendering those caught in its path to human icicles.
Her heart leapt in fright. Geralt was there. But Ciri had no time to react. A force knocked into her from the side and drove her to the ground.
Vesemir.
She groaned, her forehead having accidentally bounced off the cobblestone and now ached viciously, making her vision blur.
She did not have to look up to know who had entered those gates. She felt it. Felt it in her bones. He was here. Eredin.
Vesemir urgently pulled her to her feet, gesturing she stay low so they could sneak off towards the side of the castle. He had to continue pulling her, her body would not easily yield, her mind on Geralt. A frozen Geralt.
They didn't make it far before Imlerith slammed his shield into Vesemir, causing the old witcher to be thrown away and onto the cold ground.
A set of fingers fisted in her hair from behind and pulled her back against a heavily armored chest, holding her so tightly Ciri thought her scalp would detach from her head.
"You shan't escape me this time," Eredin growled, wasting no time in hauling her back towards the glowing, swirling lights of a portal.
She couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything but think of how she had failed. She had failed them all.
But then, there was Vesemir, appearing as if out of nowhere with renewed vigor. He swung his sword at Eredin who lazily parried his attacks with one hand. But the old witcher struck true at one point and the elf's hold on her hair faltered. Once more she fell to the ground.
Just as Ciri was about to get up again, Vesemir shoved his hand in her direction, unleashing the sign of Aard and sending her sliding along the cobblestones and out of Eredin's reach, knocking the wind out of her in the process.
She fought to right herself and eventually made it back to her feet, shaky and unsteady this time, sword drawn. Her eyes widened at the sight of several newly opened portals and the masses of elves and hounds that strolled through them, surrounding her completely.
Two new portals opened in front of Kain while he ran toward Vesemir to help him; Kain almost ran into it. It was icy cold around the yard, but the portal felt like the abyss of hellish frost itself.
He rolled back and slashed two hounds behind him, jumping back on his feet. His heart was pounding so rapidly and strong it made him dizzy and sick. There was too little of the magic left to use in him, too little. Too many Hunters…
It took him longer to dispose of the two that placed themselves on his path, and when he pulled his sword from the second before the elf fell, his head was swimming, and Vesemir was on the ground; Imlerith was methodically slamming his metal fist into the man's face.
With a guttural growl of pulling the last of his efforts, Kain threw a hand forth, pushing the power into the commander. It sent him flying and flipping through the air; he slammed into the ground with metallic bang, rolling. He was getting up, and two more hunters seized Kain from behind.
Something smashed between his ribs, spilling heat and stinging, burning pain inside his chest. He glimpsed a hilt of a knife in one of the hands holding him. He had no steam to cry out; a weak wheeze slipped between his lips followed by a gush of blood.
"No," Eredin commanded. "We only just met, it's rude to dismiss him without even a glimpse."
Imlerith was over Vesemir, yanking the instructor up like a puppy by the throat. Vesemir cried out, wiggling, as the general slammed his back into the stony wall, holding him in place. Vesemir's boots dangled a good foot above the ground.
Kain jerked in his captor's vice-like grip, but the blade twisted between his ribs; he felt them crack and spurt more painful heat into his chest. He felt too woozy and tired, and the pain was so intense he thought he felt the cold of the blade against his thrashing heart. It made him feel sick; more blood gurgled up in his throat and into his mouth.
"Run!" Vesemir screamed at Ciri, struggling in Imlerith's grasp.
Through the red mist of pain, Kain saw the leader – Eredin – remove the visor of his helm revealing a pale face and a cold, vicious sneer. He looked from Kain to Ciri.
"She'll not abandon you," he said. "So much to lose here. Humans tend to be pathetically attached to impractical things." He canted his head sideways as if giving Ciri a playful eye. "We can take your new toy with us. I have to admit to a certain level of curiosity your new alliance awoke in me. And the way he disposed of my troops makes it worthwhile." He held a hand out to her. "Come, and he will live." He threw the Cat a gander and shrugged, "For a while."
The mist made it hard to see anything but at the sound of Eredin's voice, calling for his general, Ciri looked their direction and saw to her horror that Imlerith had Vesemir by the throat, strung up against the wall behind him.
Oh, gods… They are going to kill him.
And then she saw Kain, captured between two dark warriors, bloodied and battered, looking as though he was barely conscious. It took her another few seconds to notice the knife, causing a weak whimper of helplessness to escape her.
Eredin looked at her, a small victorious smirk playing over his lips as their eyes finally met. Her gaze fell to the hand he extended her way, his words echoing in her mind.
Lies. Lies. Lies.
She looked between her old tutor, a man she loved; Kain, who she had only just started to get to know but whose presence had made such an impact she did not ever want to lose him; and the nightmare, Eredin, that stood in front of her, and she felt scared. Not of what would befall her should she end up in Eredin's clutches, but of the guilt she would have to live with should any true harm befall Vesemir and Kain this day.
She shot Vesemir an apologetic look, and slowly lowered her sword.
"Ciri, no!" he cried. "I forbid you!"
She did not heed his command. She so rarely did.
Ciri was caving, and the leader of the Hunt sneered in an even nastier way observing her distress.
"You always were an unruly child with an unbreakable will of your own," Vesemir said to her, his voice strained but still strong. "I always adored that about you. But this time... one last time... RUN! JUST RUN!"
He had a knife in his hand, and he stabbed it beneath Imlerith's arm extended to hold him by the throat.
Panic rolled through Kain's spine like an icy current. The adrenaline of shock gave him the last possible burst of magic he was capable of, and he flicked his wrist snapping Imlerith's arm. He growled staggering back two steps, and let Vesemir fall down on his fours.
The knife in Kain's ribs was yanked out and immediately jabbed lower into his side. He grunted, seeing black roses blooming in his vision; more blood came up his throat and from his mouth.
He sensed what was coming, and feared to see it, but his eyes helplessly sought out Vesemir, nevertheless.
Eredin seemed annoyed by the constant scuffle behind him. Vesemir was getting up slowly when Eredin turned to him abruptly and ran his sword through the teacher's chest pinning him to the wall like a bug on a board.
Kain sucked in a breath as if the bastard stabbed him again. The vision of the hellish nightmare in the yard was wobbling and turning red and black before his eyes.
Ciri froze in her track, watching Vesemir fall to the ground and try to get back on his feet, hope barely rekindled when Eredin pushed forward and stabbed the length of his sword through Vesemir's body.
"NOOOO!" she cried, her eyes fixed on her old mentor's face. It had frozen in pain and surprise and it did not change. He no longer moved at all.
Once more she struggled for breath. Her vision blurred, the world was spinning, and staying on her feet became a challenge. All around her she sensed the warriors move in close, including Eredin, and felt his pleasure at the sight of her caught like a rabbit in a snare.
She was going to be sick. It was coming up the back of her throat.
No. Not sick. Something different. Something new. Her whole body buzzed as if electrified and suddenly her whole world went dark.
Avallac'h broke free of the ice that had encased him with a loud groan of effort and pain. He was aching all over as if having been caught naked in a snowstorm, which was not actually far from the truth. And the magic he had used to free himself had left him almost completely void of energy. It was a miracle he was still on his feet.
All around him his allies were frozen like ice sculptures. None of them had managed to free themselves from the Hunt's spell. But it did not matter. For he saw Ciri surrounded by a group of warriors and without her sword. The battle was lost.
And then… it happened. What he had feared all along. The girl rose into the air, her feet a few inches off the ground, her arms outstretched on either side and her back arched in an unnatural manner. There was an eerie green glow surrounding her and the moment her lips parted an otherworldly cry so horrible it could shatter bone erupted from her small stature.
Avallac'h clamped his hands over his ears, wincing in absolute agony. It felt as though his brains were melting. Several of the warriors surrounding Ciri followed suit, clutching their heads and stumbling back over those who had been blown away by the first wave. If one could have seen beyond their helmets, one would have noticed blood trickling from their ears, noses, and eyes. The ones closest to her all fell and the ones further behind jumped into the portals opened by Caranthir, fleeing, retreating. It looked as though the generals were about to do the same, both of them unable to stand upright at this point, but they could not abandon their leader.
When she began to scream, it felt as if something of fine glass shattered repeatedly inside his skull. The hands gripping him disappeared when the Knight staggered away clutching his own head, and without that support Kain's legs gave in. The impact of his back with the ground knocked the air out of him. He coughed another wrenching gush of blood and then the world turned into one inhuman piercing scream. The outbreak of magic that began in her, drawing from her pain and despair, reverberated violently within Kain, fueling the agony of his wounds. It could have made his ears bleed, but he no longer knew. That scream twisted and turned around like a spiral pulling him into darkness.
Eredin's teeth were clenched as he fought against the overwhelming power separating him from his prize. He reached for her, hands shaking, knees buckling… And then Caranthir forced him back, pulling him into the portal. The Hunt were all gone. Leaving behind only the fallen.
Yet Ciri did not stop. She was too far gone, Avallac'h knew. She had no control. He staggered closer to her against his better judgement, watched as rocks, debris, and corpses were pulled into her wake and disintegrated. He had to stop her before she killed everyone.
Once she was clearly in view again, he reached out and screamed at the top of his lungs, using the last bit of magic and energy he could afford. "Gvaed, gvaed uncym, cym'morth!"
Ciri's eyes rolled back in her head and she dropped at once, all sound silenced as she fell unconscious.
Moments later, Avallac'h followed.
When Yennefer came to, the Keep was deadly quiet and her body was riddled with pain, blood drying against her nose, something similarly sticky at her ears. She touched a hand to them, as if to make sure she hadn't lost the ability to hear, and then slowly rolled over onto her stomach, keeping low to the ground as if she feared what she'd find if she clambered to her feet and made herself known.
Ciri woke sometime later with a clear memory of what had happened, horrified and almost unwilling to believe what she had seen, and the outburst that followed. She scrambled to her feet and shakily made her way over to Vesemir who was still pinned to the wall like a butterfly, Eredin's sword sticking from his chest. She cried trying to pull it free, but it was too deeply embedded in the stone she could barely move it an inch.
Looking around in her despair, her gaze landed on Kain. He, too, lay unmoving, blood on his face, blood on his body, blood everywhere. She stifled a sob and fell to her knees beside him, trying to prop him up against her lap like she had done in Freya's garden. He was alive, but just barely, his wounds grave and his energy fading. And she could not even tell if the worst of it had come from The Hunt or her.
She pressed her hands to the wounds at his side, whispering a prayer of healing, though she did not know who to pray to now.
Yennefer crawled closer to the edge, rising up when she saw that the portals that had appeared out of nowhere had gone and all that remained was the bone-chilling cold.
The first thing she saw was an ashen head of hair hovering over another, silvery.
"Ciri," she murmured, tears springing to her eyes as she got to her feet, stumbling, unable to keep up with the sudden rush of adrenaline when her legs were struggling to regain their strength.
Yennefer ran, she didn't know how, but as soon as she reached the bottom of the broken and blood-soaked stone steps she began an immediate search for Geralt, as well.
"W-what happened?" she breathed out as soon as she reached Ciri's side, dropping to her knees beside the girl, to make sure she still was in one piece, although she couldn't see any open wounds on her. "Where's Geralt?"
Ciri could not see anyone else from where she was sitting and did not know who had survived and who had not.
"I…" Her voice was hoarse, raspy. "I don't know. Frozen…" That was the last she remembered of him.
Yennefer reached for her girl's head, stroking her hair while Ciri cradled the boy who looked on his way out; Yennefer was scanning the courtyard until her gaze came to land on the macabre image of Vesemir pinned to the side of the wall like a trophy animal. She hadn't noticed it at first and expected that she would suddenly see them all over, except that wasn't the case, and soon Triss appeared, hands bloodied, hair disheveled, features pinched with distress.
That made three.
She rushed over to Ciri, her eyes welling up at the sight of the old man strung against the wall, her hands coming to rest on the boy Ciri appeared to be cradling in effort to alleviate his pain or heal.
Yennefer didn't have the strength to afford the same.
She hesitantly broke from Ciri's side, going in search of Geralt to free him from his trap and make sure he hadn't been further injured or worse.
Ciri vaguely registered Yennefer leaving and Triss taking her place beside her, her hands coming to touch Kain's body as well. "Can you help him?" Ciri whispered.
Triss clenched her jaw, clearly trying to ignore the sight of Vesemir. "I'm trying, Ciri. I'm trying."
Mousesack, appearing out of nowhere, knelt beside Ciri, gently making Triss shift. There wasn't much she could provide now without her elixirs and as stressed and tired.
"There's almost no life left," Mousesack muttered to himself, examining the boy. "Too much magic strain, he's got nothing left to aid the heal. Heartbeat slowed down allowing for slower blood loss. He needs to warm up." He cast a look at Ciri full of sorrow and sympathy. "I don't know if he'll survive, but I'll do what I can."
"He'll survive," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "He's important…" She shifted her gaze to Mousesack suddenly. "Should I take him inside? To a bed? It will only take a second."
"Yes," he nodded. "I'll get to him in a bit. We need to see who else is in dire need of my help. I can help them faster."
She didn't shift out from under Kain before she blinked them away, appearing atop the cot in the room he'd been given. Carefully, she freed herself and gently placed his head on a pillow, pulling the covers up over him as much as she was able while still keeping a firm pressure on the wound at his side.
Her mind was racing, going from Kain to Vesemir to Geralt and Yennefer. And then, everyone else. Were they alive? Had someone else died? She felt like she was going to pass out from the stupor and helpless worry that made her want to scream.
The sound of ice breaking around him yanked Geralt from the daze. He registered Mousesack's worried face and looked down at his still ice-locked feet. It took a bit of effort to break it. Geralt stomped his feet, getting the blood flowing. His body was numb from cold.
"Everyone who has been alive when frozen is going to live," Mousesack said. "The Frost."
"Ciri, where is she?"
"Took the boy inside, he's near dying. Vesemir... They killed him. He was trying to protect her, fought them, as did Kain."
Geralt's heart fell and shrunk in a bout of profound sorrow.
Vesemir...
"Who else?"
Mousesack shook his head mournfully. "All of Hjalmar's men... And that witcher, Coen. Others are wounded, shaken, but with proper care shall recover. With Kain, I don't know…"
Geralt nodded, squeezing his arm in thanks, and started toward the center of the yard where he saw Vesemir last.
Instead of Geralt Yennefer found Eskel.
She used her hands to peel the ice from him in places, ignoring the look of surprise on his face and the touch of appreciation that had temporarily flashed in his hard gaze.
She brushed her chilled fingers against her sides and shivered. Unlike the rest, she hadn't been frozen. She guessed it only took effect when one was conscious.
However, something else had happened that she hadn't seen and could still feel caked to her face.
"Are you all right?" she asked, scanning Eskel from head to toe, hardly feeling her concern abate as she hadn't stumbled upon Geralt yet.
"Nothing an elixir won't fix. You?"
She nodded despite the fact that the mere action made her head spin slightly. "Geralt?"
No sooner she'd asked, she saw the figure in question heading toward them, the urge to run toward him so strong that for a second she'd forgotten to breathe.
Relief from seeing Yennefer and Eskel alive and on their feet was immediately replaced with shock at the sight of Vesemir's body pinned to the wall like a piece of used armor.
Geralt set his jaw, tears welling in his eyes as he approached slowly, still unable to believe it. The pain of hearing of his death was nothing compared to seeing it and knowing it was final. Irreparable.
Eskel came up, his eyes red, too, and they yanked the sword out. Eskel caught their dead mentor and gently lowered to the ground. Geralt picked up his sword lying to the side and slid it into the sheath beneath his shoulder.
Yennefer trailed behind them, finding herself at odds with herself, tears springing to her eyes at their own heartbreak. She knew how much the older man had meant to Geralt.
"I can't believe we lost him," Triss murmured, voice breaking, her footsteps so light Yennefer hadn't even heard her come up to her side.
Yen nodded.
What could she say?
After looking at everyone else who'd joined them, it became more apparent that they had actually lost the fight and that they'd all gone down at some point, and something miraculous had happened.
But what?
The only one Yennefer thought might have had the answers was the Elf who'd been tending to Ciri earlier, but he appeared to have abandoned the courtyard.
Mousesack approached as always quietly, whispered something in Triss's ear, and she snuck away.
"I'm so sorry, lads," he said, standing next to Eskel and Geralt. "It is a dark day, indeed."
"No witcher ever died in a bed," Letho said, having come up from behind. "At least we all knew him. It leaves us memory."
Yennefer watched Mousesack and Triss share a moment and then the latter saunter off.
Where was she going? Where was Ciri and her little friend?
Yennefer scanned the space where Kain's blood still remained and winced.
What if she'd taken off?
The raven-haired sorceress squeezed her way between the witcher's, moving to press herself against Geralt's back.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, making sure it was loud enough only for his ears.
He watched Mousesack go and turned to reciprocate Yennefer's embrace. Eskel removed himself, as well, to provide a moment of privacy.
"I'm sorry, too. I brought this on him. On all of them."
She loosened her hold on him as he turned to face her, drawing him tight against her chest, burying her face in the side of his shoulder and neck.
She could feel the urge to cry bubble to the surface.
She'd been so worried when she couldn't find him before and holding him now was an incalculable relief. She only wished it was under better circumstances.
"No, you didn't," she murmured, drawing back, her hands finding his face. "We all chose to be here. To fight for Ciri. It's not you—or her—it's The Wild Hunt. They're the ones that did this and the only ones who will pay for it."
"I should have known better," he murmured into her hair. "They cannot be defeated by so few. It was a suicide. For some..."
"We did know better," she said, swiping at his cheeks, once again drawing him against her chest, a hand in his hair as she held him against her. "All of us. We wanted it to be over – to save her."
"I need to see her. She must be devastated."
Triss came into the room quiet like a mouse, and gave Ciri a meek smile, approaching her. Triss knelt next to her, put a bunch of cloths and a bowl of water on the chair. She produced a vial, opened it and poured some into an empty bowl, then set it down, as well.
"Mousesack said he'll come shortly," Triss said in a soft voice, pulling the covers off Kain. "I'll clean his wounds."
She began to undo his armor straps as gently as possible. However, she saw the boy was unresponsive. Not much she could do to hurt him.
"That magic he uses," she said, and cast a shifty look Ciri's way, trying to formulate it carefully. "Has he told you what he is? A sorcerer like Avallac'h?"
Ciri reluctantly removed herself from Kain's side when Triss stepped in to help, gathering the pieces of armor she removed as she went.
"He was raised by the druids," she said. It sounded like her voice came from far away. From someone else. "And the dryads. He's special. Important. We have to help him."
Triss regarded Ciri, peeling the boy's shirt up, and gestured for the girl to help her get it off.
"Special? How special? Who said so?"
Triss bit her lip, trying to pace her curiosity, but it was buzzing all through her nerves like a disturbed hive of wasps.
Ciri disposed of the armor on a chair and leaned down to help Triss with his shirt. Kain looked so pale she almost lost her breath for a moment. "I said so. I just know it."
Triss hesitated, dipping a cloth in the bowl with her elixir, and began to gingerly clean the wound in his chest. The lung was pierced, she noted. And the side of the abdomen.
"What kind of feeling is it," she asked carefully, "that tells you that he is special?"
Ciri shrugged, didn't really want to talk about it. She knew she wouldn't explain herself right. "No words. Just a feeling. A bone-deep knowing."
Triss smiled subtly, getting to another wound. "Love?"
Ciri scowled because this was what she had been afraid of. "Of course not. Love is what I feel for Geralt. For Yennefer. And you." She looked to Kain, softening ever so slightly. "You don't love someone after only three days of knowing them. Not unless they are your destiny." Like Geralt had been.
Triss smiled a bit bolder, sweeping blood gently off his skin. "Oh, my darling little sister," she sighed. "You can never dissect love. Nor predict when it comes. Sometimes one glance is enough.
"So… You love him?"
Ciri frowned, looking from him to Triss, feeling distinctly uncomfortable and like, for once, she wanted to run away. "Why are you asking me these questions?"
Triss gave her a sympathetic look and gestured at the bowl with water. "You can clean the blood from his face.
"I'm sorry, Ciri, my dear, I just... Your connection has truly come fast and strong, and I was... I thought you fell in love. It's not something to fear, my darling girl. It's wonderful to love and be loved. The most precious thing in life."
Love. Not something Ciri had ever talked about before. Not with anyone. Nor could she ever remember wanting to fall in love. She had watched Geralt and Yennefer, and their love seemed… painful.
She took the cloth and wrung it out, gently sweeping it over Kain's face to clean him of blood. "I'm not in love. And I am not loved."
"Oh, darling…" Triss sighed softly. "He fought to the death for you. People don't do this for strangers.
And you are here. Not with Geralt or Yennefer."
"He fought because he is honorable," Ciri said, recognizing that Triss was far more of a romantic than Ciri herself. "And Geralt and Yennefer aren't dying." A sudden horrible thought occurred to her and she flashed her a look of fear. "Are they?"
"Oh no, no! They're both fine. I was just... I shouldn't have said anything."
Mousesack entered the room and approached, commanding the space the way that drove Triss away from the cot. She picked her bowl and retreated toward the door.
Mousesack scowled, his hand hovering over the wounds. He hemmed, muttering something, then closed his eyes to focus. His lips moved, and after he removed his hand to the wound lower, the one in the chest was skinned over.
He sat back, resting, when he was done.
"He always had his own magic, his own protection. It's hard to heal such. You can only do so much. I stopped the internal bleeding and closed the cuts, but the rest is up to him."
The Druid pulled the covers over him.
Ciri stood back to watch Mousesack work, her fingernails cutting into her palms as she nervously clenched her fists. The wounds faded but Kain did not look much better.
She looked at the old Druid. "What can I do? You said he needed warmth. More blankets?"
"That will grant some energy, yes," Mousesack nodded, getting up. "As for healing, it's a tricky business. Some people are open to healers' help - like witchers and average people who cannot do it themselves. Some who have their own powers are more 'closed' for it. They can be open to ones and closed to others. All I can do is close his wounds. I cannot give him the life force he's lost while fighting."
Then I will give him mine, Ciri thought. She did not know how that would work, if it even would. But she had to do something. She couldn't lose him and Vesemir both. The guilt was already tearing at her heart like a claw.
"I'll go get some more blankets," she said, excusing herself from the room to tend to that task.
"Gods help us," Mousesack murmured, eyeing the boy a moment before he followed Ciri out. There were still some wounded to tend to and the bodies to prepare for later burial.
Ciri found some extra blankets for Kain and returned to his room to drape them over him, tucking him in to make sure he would not get cold.
Then she sank to the floor with her back against the wall, eyeing the dried blood on her hands. She knew she should go out there to the courtyard, to help and assess and… apologize. But she couldn't. The image of Vesemir pinned to that wall like the rat-pelt in her room made her feel nauseous.
Yennefer nodded her understanding that he was talking about Ciri and released him slowly, sliding her hand along his arm to take his hand, to gently steer him away from the witchers that had crowded around Vesemir. "Want me to go with you or would you rather I stay and help with the bodies?" There was more than one to lay to rest and another hadn't been tended to yet.
"I… I want to see her alone," Geralt said carefully. "I'm sure she wants to see you, too. But I feel it has to be me to tell her… something."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"I don't know what I can possibly say to make her feel any better… or any of this any better. But I have to try."
That hurt, a lot more than she supposed he intended it to. Usually, at a time like this they'd have comforted her together and as a single family unit.
"Go," she said softly, letting her hand fall away from his own so that he could take the space and time to head in search of Ciri. "Let her know that if she needs me – I'm here. The same applies to you."
He nodded, couldn't quite muster a smile. It still hurt too much inside his chest.
Mousesack gave him directions, and he found Ciri sitting on the floor across from Kain's cot. She looked pale and lost. As if something important had been ripped out of her. Just like from all of them witchers.
He cast a glance at the boy – pale and still out cold – and sat down next to Ciri.
"I'm sorry, Ciri. It didn't end the way we all hoped. But we all knew what we signed up for."
She couldn't make herself look at him. The sense of shame was too strong. "Yes… we all knew. And yet we hoped. I hoped."
"You can't blame yourself for hoping," he said softly, pulling her to him. "You can't blame yourself for any of this – I know you want to, just the same as I. But we all know, no witcher ever dies in bed. Vesemir did his utmost to protect you. So has everybody else. Even Gwyncath who you know for mere days. It's not to have you blame yourself – it's to save you."
"I don't want to be saved," she murmured into his chest, fingers curling in the fabric of his jerkin. "I just want the people I care about to stop dying. Maybe… Maybe if I had given myself to him…"
"No, Ciri, you couldn't," he cut in. "He has no right to think he can take you. We came here to prevent it. Don't dismiss what we have all done here with wondering about that. You deserve to have a free, happy life regardless of your powers."
"People don't always get what they deserve." She still could not make herself look at him, and felt perfectly content hiding her face against his chest. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm not. Just a few scratches, nothing bad." He drew her closer against his chest, kissing her head. "Don't beat yourself up, Ciri, please. You couldn't do anything to make Vesemir care less, or any of us, for that matter. You couldn't even tell this new friends of yours to go and spare himself a battle. He knew this place, he wasn't a stranger. No one blames you. Everybody fought for their own idea of home and what's right. No one regrets being here."
Ciri just couldn't help think she should have done more. That she should have entered the battle sooner. But there was no use contemplating that now.
"Who else?" she asked, sitting back. "Who else is dead?"
Geralt gave her a pained look, wishing there was a way to keep it from her, at least for a while. As stupid as the idea was. "Folan, Vigi, Guthlaf… and Coen."
Ciri nodded, clenching her jaw. "Have you seen Avallac'h?"
"I haven't. Mousesack says he was weak from magical exertion and went to the tower to rest."
"I almost killed you all..." she said, rubbing her hands across her face. "If not for Avallac'h there wouldn't have been anything left."
"Ciri, you can't blame yourself for your power that you can't control. Avallac'h, for that matter, has more to blame himself about because he never taught you. As if he doesn't really want you to get a hold of it. Because then his own hold on you would falter."
"It's not his fault. How can you teach someone something you have never experienced? Something you have never felt or known?"
"Then he can do nothing for you, except for trying to sell you to whoever can breed." He released a curt breath, unable to stop himself, even though he began to regret it before he finished the phrase. "Forgive me, Ciri. I shouldn't have."
"He saved your life. All of you," she pointed out.
"Along with his own," the Witcher played back. "He's not here to help any of us – thus he's done nothing to aid the fight. Nothing. The only thing he did was prevent his own death along with everyone else's."
"Doesn't change the fact he's the only one who can stop me when I…" She fell silent. "This power is a curse. It has brought nothing good. A constant danger to everyone."
She leaned back against the wall again, a humorless smile on her face.
"Should have drowned me at birth."
Geralt leaned to her, holding her face in his hands to make her eyes meet his. "Listen to me, Ciri. Whatever gifts or curses, whatever you may have or will have done, no matter anything – you are my destiny. I always love you. I always protect you. Forever. Just like you told me when you were a child: together forever. You understand me?"
His hands felt good on her skin and she leaned into his gentle hold, closing her eyes to keep from crying. And his words were exactly what she needed to hear, what she needed to remind herself that she belonged to someone.
She nodded. "I am your destiny. And you are mine."
"Always," he said, smiling a little before letting her go. "Don't ever forget."
He cast another glance at Kain, his smile dimming.
"Yennefer wants you to know she's there for you and probably wants to make sure you're all right."
Ciri threw a look over her shoulder at Kain as well. "I don't want to leave here. I don't want to see..." What she had done.
Geralt nodded silently. "We are having the pyres after dusk. I'm sure you will want to pay your respects. And as I said, you can't feel guilty for people loving you. No one outside this door blames you. They're glad you're still with us and not with the Hunt. They all have been fighting for it."
"I will come for the pyres," she said after a brief pause, finding the sentence itself hard to utter, reaching for Kain's limp hand to squeeze it with her own. "And once that is done, once Kain has healed, we can start planning our revenge."
Geralt sighed quietly, feeling sad for her pain. He still saw that little girl who almost fell off the wall of the keep while trying to defy their reason. Always burning for revenge.
"We'll discuss what's to come when we're done with all that's still here," he said, and got up to his feet. "I hope he recovers. He saved us tonight at the final gate."
"That's what he does," she said with a small smile. "Saves people."
The polar opposite of what she had been doing.
"Geralt?" she turned to look at him. "Try to get some rest? And eat something. Yen, too."
He had to smile a little. "Yes, try to say that to yourself. Go to your room, get some rest. You really need it."
He turned to Kain once again and caught a wince passing through his face. It was too brief, but then he stirred the slightest bit, his lips twitched, a whisper fell from them…
Geralt stared, thinking for a moment that he heard wrong, and trying to listen for more. But Kain's face was once again still and peaceful.
Geralt turned that feeble sound in his mind this way and that, trying to decipher, and then it came to him. It began to seem clear. He cast an uncertain look at Ciri, wondering if she heard or even understood it – probably not – and then went for the door.
Morénn…
Yes, this world had always been rather small and full of wonders.
Ciri had no intention of leaving this room when Kain was still unconscious and weak. He needed someone to watch over him in case things got worse.
But she moved from the floor once Geralt left, and took a seat on the edge of Kain's bed, still holding onto his hand with both of hers and closing her eyes, trying hard, so hard, to give him the strength and energy he needed to recover. "Wake up, Archer."
His thoughts were filled with Brokilon and his old acquaintance while Geralt made a detour to the kitchen and picked a small tray to carry some dried meat, fresh bread made with Triss and Keira's efforts and a bottle of mead.
He returned to Ciri and placed the tray on her lap.
"Don't argue. You need strength. This war is not over. You said so yourself."
She had been so lost in her own thoughts she didn't notice Geralt enter again until he spoke. She dropped Kain's hand as though she'd been burned, and stared down at the tray in her lap. "Oh. Right. Of course. Are you eating with me?"
He regarded her closely for a long moment, as if trying to read. "You truly want to lock yourself up here until the sun sets?"
Ciri watched him uncertainly, eventually letting her gaze drift to the tray in her lap. She picked up a slice of bread and tore it in two with her hands, slowly nibbling on one piece. "It's comfortable here. Down there… there will be questions. And exchanges of stories. And sorrow. Anger. I won't be able to stomach it."
"Mm." Geralt folded his arms watching her with a mock disbelief. "Never took you for a faint of heart. You sure you aren't merely afraid to leave him alone for a short while?"
Ciri shifted uncomfortably beneath his scrutinizing stare. "What if I leave and he dies? He'll be all alone."
"If he dies while you're here, what difference does it make? To him, at least? I've always thought that dying is a solitary affair. Something private. Besides, he's not that weak. Someone who wields such magic can't be. Like you."
Ciri scoffed, mostly at the part where he compared them in strength. Because that was ridiculous. "Dying after getting stabbed in the abdomen, drained of power, and having one's brains scrambled by some shrieking harpy is not weakness. It's part of being human. He is half-human, you know.
"And he may not know, but I will. I will know that I tried to be there for him the way he was for me. The way Vesemir–" She choked on her words and swallowed thickly, averting her gaze. "I can't leave him."
Geralt wanted to ask what happened there with Vesemir and Kain and her, but she wasn't ready. He recalled bits and pieces of what he had perceived from his ice trap, but it all resembled a strange dream.
"Mousesack helped him, I assume? You don't trust the Druid's skills? He'd be offended."
"Mousesack told me himself there is only so much he can do. That the rest is up to Kain now. My concern is justified," she said, suddenly feeling a tad defensive, as seemed to always be the case with Kain.
She took another piece of bread, chewing slowly.
"I'm not fighting you over this, Ciri," Geralt said softly. "Many of us owe him our lives. Same as you, by the way, since you opened the gate. If you feel that all you've done was putting everyone else in danger - no, it's not how it happened. You fought. Despite the orders."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I forget sometimes who you are. That you are really here. That I am not arguing with with a figment of my imagination." She gave a feeble apologetic smile before sobering again. "I'm not good with orders. Even when I try my best to obey."
She put the bread back on the tray and looked up at Geralt.
"It's been a long time since I have had someone my own age to spend time with. I think the last time I had friends was when I was—" she squinted, trying to remember, "—twelve or thirteen. A band of street thugs who called themselves The Rats. I was with them for a while. And these days I keep contemplating whether or not I really liked them. Was it true affection or was it just fear of being alone? For in the beginning they were not exactly kind… Not now that I think it through.
"Anyway, back then I cared. And I still left them to pursue a man I found curious. When I returned, I learned they had gone out to face the bounty hunter who was on our tail. Bonhart. You remember I told you about him?
"They were arrogant - The Rats. Thought themselves invincible. High on their crime and the fear they spread in people's hearts. But when faced with Bonhart, they all fell one by one. He had no trouble taking them all out.
"I arrived just in time to watch him eviscerate a girl called Mistle. We had become… close. And later he forced me to watch as he sawed their heads off. Trophies, you see." Her gaze drifted to Kain again. "The people I meet, the people I like, they have a tendency to die. I am trying to take care that won't happen to Kain. I am going to watch over him for as long as it takes."
Any story – or a shred of one – Geralt was getting from her these days were the ones from beyond the realms of nightmares. He wasn't sure he'd be sane had he gone through some of what she was still keeping from him – the Witcher knew in his heart of hearts it was much worse than he could have imagined.
Thing was, Geralt was deeply afraid to even try to imagine. A part of him needed to know the truth, and the other one was afraid to.
He squatted down in front of her, throwing a gander at Kain while she spoke. He fully understood where she was coming from. How many fears she had gathered to drive her actions and urges. He couldn't blame her for any of them. He would've felt the same, he imagined. Geralt never had too many friends outside of the guild. Every true one was precious.
"I understand," he said finally, watching her try to eat. "Try to trust him. He didn't strike me as someone eager to die. He'll get better. He'd have died out there in the courtyard, had it not been so."
Ciri smiled a little. "He's not a quitter. He keeps telling me not to make it easier for Eredin. To not let him win. I think he would feel the same now. And he has his Griffin to get back to."
She picked up the piece of bread again and attempted to feed it to Geralt, an impish gleam in her eye as she did.
"I am glad we are back together again. As it was meant to be. You need someone to take care of you, too."
He smiled, accepting the bread. "Yeah, I've been doing a poor job of it on my own, Dandelion will tell you all about it if you try to ask questions." He chuckled and took a bite. "He's right, though. Gwyncath. Never even think of making it easier for any of them."
"I think anyone who knows me will say I do not make it easy on anyone," she replied, tearing off a chunk of meat with her teeth before chewing. "How well did you know Kain back then?"
"Only through other people and what they talked about. We never spoke personally and never ended up in the same parties for training or fun, even when their School was our guest on our land. I didn't even remember I ever glimpsed him at all until I saw him in Larvik."
"It's strange to think of you as a kid," she admitted, helping herself to another piece of meat.
He sneered subtly. "Everybody has been one at some point. However, we weren't as much kids anymore when our joined trainings began back then."
"I suppose not," she mused. "Do you think I would have benefitted from training with others my own age?"
"Of course. It is unfortunate that time was gone when you arrived to Kaer Morhen."
"Not sure how well I would have handled having to share your attention with other children," she teased, finally taking a sip of the mead that had been tempting her.
Geralt laughed quietly. "We spoiled you rotten, haven't we."
"Spoiled me with love? Yes. You all did. Even Lambert, though he would never admit it."
"No, he wouldn't," Geralt agreed, smiling.
"How is Yennefer doing? That spell must have drained her completely?"
"It has, indeed. She seemed tired but doing fine so far. We all will need some rest before the night comes. She will take care of herself."
"Once upon a time you would have taken care of her," she pointed out, watching him curiously before tapping the side of his head with her fingers. "Still nothing there?"
He sighed, gave a shrug. "What am I supposed to do, tuck her in bed? She's a grown woman and knows what she has to do. My concern right now is you - you need to rest, have a shuteye."
Ciri smiled a little, impishly, mischievously. "I don't think that's what you'd usually do to make her feel better. Though the bed-part may not be entirely wrong..." She sobered, shaking her head. "I'm not ready to face Eredin again right this moment."
Geralt frowned. "Do you see him every time you sleep? Perhaps there is something Mousesack could do. Some herbs for dreamless sleep."
"Yes. Every night. It's not nightmares, it's… He dreamwalks. He finds me, my mind, when I am most vulnerable. And he's..." She hesitated, a flush of red tinting her cheeks, unable to look him in the eyes. "He makes me feel things I shouldn't. Things I don't feel when I am awake. But in there… It is like I have no control, whatsoever."
His frown darkened. "It seems unfair that you have no protection against it. You have to talk to Yennefer. I'm sure she would think of an amulet to shield your mind from his invasion. You fight magic with magic."
Ciri nodded thoughtfully. She had not even considered asking anyone for help. It was a privilege she had not had for a long, long time. "I shall talk to her about it."
"Good." He stood up. "Try to rest, nevertheless. Dreams might not come - he might be too busy counting his losses and plotting his next assault."
"To be honest, I don't think we even made a dent in his army," she said, handing him back the tray but keeping the cup of mead that was still quite full. "He wanted Kain, too. Seems he appreciated his skills on the battlefield. And I think it occurred to him he might be able to use him to control me." She looked to Kain's unconscious face. "We have to keep him safe."
Geralt looked at Kain, thinking about it. "It was dangerous to reveal his abilities, but he didn't have a choice. There were too many portals in the woods, and pits and bombs didn't do much on their own.
But that also means he can hold his ground against a significant group. He's far from helpless."
"That is not the point," she said softly. "I am not helpless either, but once run down and hunted for years and years, facing an army of hundreds upon hundreds… it does not matter how good of a fighter one is.
"I worry he will leave when he has healed. I understand his desire to and do not blame him for it in the least. But then he will be alone. Just him and his Griffin. And if Eredin finds him then..." She shook her head. "He was already on the run from the law. And you lot. I fear by choosing to stay by his side at Skellige, I have condemned him to an even worse fate."
"In any case, we have to wait for him to wake up and then decide."
"Yes," she agreed, taking a swig of her mead, unaware of the foam-mustache left on her upper lip. "Go rest. I will try to get some as well."
Geralt composed a mock stern look and wagged his finger at her, "Only if you promise."
He planted a kiss on the top of her head and left her alone with her duty.
She smiled, watching him go, and slowly but steadily drained her mug. She placed it on the floor where she wouldn't accidentally knock it over, and shifted further back on the bed, lifting Kain's legs to rest over her lap so she could lean back against the wall. It was not long before she drifted off.