"I didn't have time before to ask when you arrived and given what's going to happen, what I know is going to happen – how is Geralt?" Shani asked.
Dandelion preened in front of a mirror, making sure that his attire was of good standing since he hadn't had time to clean up after their journey. Dandelion had little to work with in the way of lighting and preparation for his performance, but given his aptitude for heroism, he'd decided he'd have to make it work as people's lives depended on it.
"Broody as ever. Alive."
Dandelion twisted slightly from his reflection to consider her. Geralt and Shani might have had their moment in the blistering desire-filled sun, but Dandelion knew Shani well enough to know that, despite their amiable separation, she probably still felt some kind of adoration for the Witcher.
Most women did.
"When all of this is over, I'm sure he'd love to see you."
"You think?" Shani asked, reverting back to the smitten-eyed seventeen-year-old she'd been when she first laid eyes on Geralt in all his Witcher glory.
Dandelion had pondered about her often, about her lovers, about her life, and he'd even harbored his own implicit affections – those he kept tight to his chest. Dandelion smiled his support, nodded, and glanced down at his lute, at the strings he'd spent time tuning to perfection earlier, strumming to test it one last time.
"You shouldn't keep them waiting any longer."
Dandelion raised his head with a flaring confidence, and nodded. He strode out from behind the curtain and took to the stage.
The crowd appeared to bask in his performance, relishing in his rendition of 'A Wolf's Demise' and more importantly 'Toss a Coin to Your Witcher'. He could even see his admirers sing along, dance in favor of their spoils and surprise, driving the festivities until even Dandelion forgot about the looming war. Even Shani, who'd been keeping an eye on the Academy walls, on the tower she knew Triss presided in waiting on a sign, allowed herself to be dragged in by the performance. She smiled affectionately in her gifted friend's direction, recalling their time together, the adventures she'd shared with Dandelion and Geralt in a brief period of their lives. And what a time it had been for her, she'd never quite experienced anything like it again.
Shani had still been in the middle of her reminiscing—and Dandelion had just moved to his next song—when a flame shot up from the tower as if it were a dragon, driving upward in an arch that lit up the sky.
Dandelion stopped playing to marvel, that single flame breaking the spell, forcing the crowd to stare with mild confusion until eventually a portal opened in the courtyard within the Academy walls and let in a single unit of soldiers. Tall figures covered from head to toe in black armor, brandishing swords and lances. One man in particular had been slow in his realization that things had turned for the worst, and paid for it as one of the dark soldiers drove his sword through the man's gut; a woman had been caught mid-run by a spear to the back and trampled as the crowd blindly rushed in opposite directions to seek shelter in the structures around them.
"Here! Over here!" Shani shouted above the increasing noise of panicked shouts, her tone controlled and surprisingly stable. "Everyone inside!"
Triss peeled herself from her vantage point in the tower as soon as she heard the screams, picking up one of the bombs she'd kept close, feeling its immediate effects on her hand as she tossed it toward the portal, adding a dusting of a flame only once she was sure it had been cleared far enough to aid the soldiers in their life and death fight.
The bomb exploded crisply and the portal disappeared.
"INSIDE! GET INSIDE!" Dandelion yelled above the bang, watching as people dropped to their knees, swinging the lute around on its fastenings until it had come to land in the middle of his back with the same flare Geralt possessed when it came to his swords. Some of the crowd—who'd managed to escape the Hunters—followed without hesitation, others had to be physically yanked from their floundering and guided into the academy to override their crippling fear. Before most had even made it to safety, a handful of Dijkstra's men took command of the situation, while others dispatched of the Wild Hunt combatants with Triss's aid.
"Help me!" Shani hissed, grabbing a man trying to return to the woman who had blood frothing at her mouth, the spear no longer in her back. The man had resisted, but eventually succumbed to helping her get the woman indoors. He outright refused, once inside, when Shani wanted to return for the man who'd been gutted. Dandelion had stayed close to help, had heard—as well as seen—another bang since then and could see smoke beginning to rise from outside of the walls to suggest that Triss or the Wild Hunt had hit something that was beginning to burn. Triss appeared to be straining.
Shani caught up to him once Dandelion began to make his way out.
"Where are you going?!" Shani hissed, face paling at the sight of the frosty clouds that bellowed from her mouth. It was the first she'd seen. Shani's hands were stained with blood, hair wild and her face shiny with sweat.
Dandelion had seen more flames, was sure he'd seen something fly overheard that could be Kain and his griffin, but given the frost, the change in weather, he couldn't be sure and had no way of knowing until he'd heard another bang.
The explosions had started off slowly at first, but they were beginning to pick up the more time passed, and he could almost predict them. They needed more help.
"I need to get to Triss," Dandelion stated with determination, despite the fear in his voice, his eyes widening as bits of the wall flew when something rammed into it from the outside.
Shani understood, but she couldn't possibly see how or what he could do, apart from try to keep the citizens calm or helping her tend to wounds.
"Stay inside, stay safe."
Dandelion swept Shani's hand aside as it came to anchor him, and then ran passed the guards tending to the bodies at their feet and their own injuries, readying to keep fighting as they headed for the gate, hoping to catch sight of their leader for command.
The bomb disappeared in the shining globe of an opening portal and exploded into a firework of white and silver sending the Riders and their hounds flying every which way in pieces. The two Riders happened to be whole, but struggled to get up after the rough impact with the wall of the Oxenfurt Auction house. The Redanian soldiers reached them in time and finished the job with their swords, overworking their fear and rage in a dozen stabs more than was needed.
Griffin screeched and dashed sideways, almost dropping Kain off, then evened out his flight with effort. Kain glimpsed a bolt sticking out of the beast's shoulder. The Rider on the ground had a heavy crossbow and was aiming again; Kain directed the beast sideways abruptly, missing the next bolt by inches, and flew toward the Academy Island. He had spent his last bomb, and Griffin had to heal and hide. There was no way Kain would let him risk his life further.
They landed a bit clumsily on the wall around the Academy; a few yards further Triss was busy protecting the perimeter with her fireballs and spells. She already looked tired. Kain yanked the bolt out, Griffin croaked loudly, falling back a few steps, his front paw not touching the ground and held suspended.
"Shh, it's all right," Kain murmured, placing his palm on the wound, closing his eyes to focus. "It's all right…"
In a few moments, it was, and Griffin's paw lowered to stand firmly. He dipped his head, checking his still bloody shoulder with his tongue, but there was no pain.
Kain held onto the wall to overcome dizziness, then snapped his head to see when Griffin suddenly darted off the wall and down into the Academy yard like an attacking hawk. Kain dashed to the side of the wall and witnessed the beast grab one of the few hounds Dijkstra's soldiers futilely tried to fight off. Griffin, croaking, went up like a shot arrow, and snapped the hound's head off in the air with his beak. His talons loosened, letting the two lifeless pieces drop while he darted down for the next.
Kain ran toward Triss who had just finished battling a Rider – his smoking bulk half-hung over the wall. Triss was panting, her brow and cleavage glistening with sweat, her hair in disarray.
"Are you all right?" she asked, seizing him up quickly, then turned to watch the griffin take care of another hound. She smiled subtly. "He's good. An amazing creature."
"I shouldn't have brought him here," Kain lamented. "It's not his fight."
"You've blood… you're wounded?"
"No," Kain looked down at his hand. "It's his. I healed him. I need to send him away."
"I understand," Triss nodded reluctantly. "I have about ten more bombs. What's in the city?"
"They are opening more gates, I have to stop as many as I can. I will go back there now."
"I shall help," she said. "With fire, where I can."
"Make sure no one gets in here."
"They opened five in here, I closed them all, and your griffin killed the remaining hounds." Triss smiled meekly. "It's all right. We'll manage here. The city, though… you can't do it alone."
"I will try. Maybe I can."
"Kain…"
"No other choice."
"Go. I'll get to you soon."
Kain scooped five bombs to clip them to his belt and croaked at Griffin. The beast dashed to pick him up, and they went around the city to avoid the direct route. Kain was cautious of the crossbows now.
A few more globes shone around the Market Place. Kain sent the bombs in; they went off on impact one after another, crashing the bulbs of light and sending the Riders and hounds scattered in all directions, some in pieces, and some merely knocked off balance. The survivors picked themselves up and began to slash at the soldiers. It wasn't hard to notice how small the Redanian numbers were compared to those Kain couldn't prevent from coming through.
The portals began to open in the woods east of the city: many globes at once. As if they foresaw the dimeritium and tried to make the defense use the most in the beginning. Kain tried not to fall for it and used his powers to disperse the first wave, but the second one – inside the city – broke out immediately, and up they went with the remaining bombs. There wasn't enough. And Kain felt ashamed and stupid for not giving it all a better thought before. Why would they believe the Aen Elle would keep their word? Why would they believe Novigrad was the target? Why wouldn't they prepare a better defense here? No time? Lack of resources? Both factors were in play, but it wasn't a solid excuse for all the people dying down there on the streets.
Civilians caught outdoors at the beginning of the attack were running like spooked chickens. The few guards and soldiers that kept their wits were screaming for them to run to the Academy, and eventually many heard. Some perished on their way, some were knocked over by their peers running like a stampede in panic and despair.
Kain landed at the bridge leading into the city's Novigrad gate from the eastern riverbank and found himself between the city and the upcoming unit of the Riders jogging from the woods – from the portals he had failed to close in time in the beginning. The hounds were growling and beginning to race.
Kain gestured for Griffin to go and fell on one knee, closing his eyes, his palms flat on the ground. The power rushed like burning water through his veins, up and through his arms and chest, spilling like a spicy spirits drink throughout his body, stinging, prickling, eager to bust.
Griffin plucked a few hounds, but then obeyed another command from Kain and flew away. Kain unsheathed his sword and let the unit get closer. There were no more thoughts or worries in his trance, and his heart beat fast but steadily, pumping blood and magic. The first unit had no chance.
The second and third came up shortly after, and the hounds were many.
When the last one dropped dead, Kain felt it: the rush of power was at its peak and was beginning to slide downwards.
He waited another moment, glimpsing a few more figures in the fields around, but then turned and hurried back into the city where he was needed most.
Where the Redanians were losing more and more numbers against the forces they had never fought before. More and more flashes of fire illuminated the center of the city while Triss did her utmost to take out as many as she could with precise strikes.
Her alone was not enough.
Them together was not enough, either, Kain realized in the very back of his faraway rational mind subdued by the spell, when he slid into the battle like a knife into butter, making the most of what was left of his magic burst.
He didn't want to think of what came after it finally exhausted itself.
Not yet it did… Not… yet…
Dandelion found his way into the tower he knew Triss to be around, ran the perimeter of the wall in search of her, following the spark of light as she threw fire to keep the Hunters that had appeared on the outskirts of the mote around the Academy at bay. He stopped when he noticed that there were portals all along the edge, spread out, producing six to ten soldiers at a time until there seemed to be more of the Wild Hunt than there was of the trees or citizens, gaping in wonder as Kain's Griffin swooped down and reappeared with one of those dogs in its claws, and then proceeded to rip it apart. The creature itself also looked rundown. There was no way they were going to keep up this pace.
"Triss!" Dandelion called once he caught up to the sorceresses. She looked about ready to fall to her knees, and blood had begun to trickle from her nose. "Are you hurt?"
"I don't know how long I'm going to be able to keep this up," she stated, showcasing fear in spite of her resolve.
Another portal appeared in the courtyard and she immediately reached for another of the dimeritium bombs.
"No," he said, seeing her flinch as soon as her hand grazed the metal sphere. "I'll do it." He'd seen her take out the previous five portals, and concluded he could do the same. "Breathe while you can."
He picked up the dimeritium bomb, and tossed it, watching in amazement as Triss added a little fire propulsion midair, blasting the Riders in black in opposite directions like rag dolls.
Those Redanian soldiers that survived the first wave were on them immediately, slicing with brutal ferocity and barely looking human doing so.
Dandelion picked up another of the bombs, watching as Triss aided the men, making sure the courtyard was once again clear, and then turned her mental focus on the main city in search of Kain to make sure he was holding up.
"He's doing surprisingly well," Dandelion commented.
"He's going to get himself killed," Triss muttered.
Dandelion turned his attention to the Riders on the water's edge; they were staring, but making no attempt to cross the water to get to them.
"And so are you," he told Triss. "There's only two of those dimeritium bombs left."
Triss grimaced as she threw another fireball, helping an unfortunate soul being mauled by one of those fierce dogs in the main city. Triss staggered as she lowered her arm, and Dandelion went to keep her upright.
Shani was at the gateway, assisting the citizens the Redanians had managed to safely help across the bridge, and then ushering them into one of the buildings. Scholars and traders and regular civilians were huddled together, most women crying, men tending to their wives and themselves.
When the bridge crowd had thinned, Shani headed for the tower, joining Triss and Dandelion on the wall.
"Oh my," she breathed, staring at the armored figures scattered across the forest, taking in the ongoing damage to Oxenfurt, tears springing to her eyes. "We can't do this."
"No," Dandelion agreed, his arm still looped around Triss's waist.
"We have to," Triss murmured, her inner eye fixated on Kain, watching as he fought unrelentingly, quite willing to lay his life down for the cause. "Kain needs us. Me. These people need us."
She wiped the blood from her nose, straightening up, peeled herself from Dandelion's arms, moved along the wall, seeking more of those she could help in close proximity, leaving Dandelion to tend to the dimeritium and the next portal.
It didn't take long for another to appear.
The magic high was diminishing with each slain hound and each slashed Rider. As if a faint feeling one catches in a deep dream, Kain felt the heaviness of fatigue settle slowly and gradually in his muscles starting with the sword-wielding arm. He rode the remaining power of the spell out to its full potential, and then, when the vision shivered and blurred and he became more aware of his body and its pains, of how his pulse thudded in his temples and how the overloading magic had drained his stamina and left him lightheaded and tired, Kain saw the elven mage. The Mage's helmet with its round halo over the top and its black skull sockets was staring at Kain across the city square, his staff glowing, white sparkly ice of frost spells crawled around its end like shattered pearls where it touched the cobblestones.
Caranthir raised the staff and brought it down on the cobblestones, and the Frost spread across the ground, creeping over the street, catching the Redanian soldiers' boots and locking them in place like glue, then creeping up and to their knees. People screamed, their voices brutally cut off by the Riders who were unaffected by the spell. Slain humans fell down, their frozen legs snapping at the ankles like dry twigs.
Kain felt the blow as it was in its swing, and turned to block with his blade. Their swords clashed, making Kain grunt at the power of the blow he had barely stopped from crushing into his shoulder. The black impassive skull of Eredin's helm stared him down.
Kain twirled from under the Elf's sword's pressure and stabbed, but Eredin blocked an instant before delivering his next blow and then another. The ringing of their blades pushed away the rest of the battle, and Kain's focus latched solely on the Elven King who wasn't intending to let him catch his breath. He wasn't a part of the battle before, and Kain was certain Eredin was saving vigor for this particular fight. He was after a specific target – the next best thing after Ciri.
From the corner of his eye, Kain glimpsed orange flares, heard the whooshing of fire and screams muffled by heavy helms of the Riders and howling of their hounds. Triss was trying to aid, but Eredin didn't seem perturbed in the slightest. He was intensely focused on draining Kain of all remaining stamina by delivering the hardest blows he could muster. Kain had to hand it to him – the Elf was a skilled fighter, and heavy armor didn't seem to obstruct his movements much or at all.
Their dance to the clanging of swords and the symphony of battle around continued for what felt a century. The city around them, illuminated by explosions and fire and flashes of spells, blurred into one dazzling tapestry while they clashed, stabbed, twirled, parried, rolled and clashed again.
Kain jerked to jump away from under the Elf's blade, but remained pinned, and Eredin's sword slid across Kain's side, making him gasp. His legs were screaming in agony of pain that only ice could cause: the crystal ornaments of Frost sparkled around his boots and all over them, creeping up his legs and body, spilling inside like poison that made every cell of his body howl in growing pain. The heat of blood soaking his side turned into ice and bloomed in red spiky roses the more of it seeped into the shirt.
Kain couldn't turn but sensed Caranthir's stare from somewhere behind him on the burning square. Eredin approached, sheathing his sword. He pulled the skull visor of his helm away, revealing a beautiful face. He was smiling coldly.
"I must admit I am impressed," he said, staring Kain down with a detached interest like one would marvel at a shiny bug. "You are a worthy trophy – for as long as you know how to surrender." He smirked, glancing at Kain's hand with the sword – the one he no longer could raise nor lower.
Everything inside was filled with gnawing cold, ice that stabbed and ripped at his body with its sharp teeth while he couldn't even make a sound. He glared at Eredin, and the Elf looked back amused. He waved a hand at someone behind Kain – the Mage, Kain thought – and it became a tad easier to breathe. Kain gasped for air, grunting in pain.
"I'm… useless to… you," he managed.
"We shall see about that," Eredin responded. "At the very least, you shall pay for all the soldiers you took from me. That I do promise and shall enjoy."
Ciri and Geralt traipsed through the city in silence. When a soft flapping of wings sounded nearby, Ciri turned her head and peered into the darkness. It took her a few seconds to notice the griffin who was standing behind two empty marked-stalls, his eyes fixed on her with an unnerving intensity. Ciri's gaze automatically searched for Kain somewhere close to him, but there was nothing. No one. Geralt had noticed the griffin, too, of course, and had frozen in his tracks, one hand on Roach's reins, the other seemingly twitching to reach for his sword. Ciri touched his shoulder and shook her head, cautiously approaching the creature who was now shifting its weight nervously from one leg to another.
"What's wrong?" She felt ridiculous asking the question – Griffin would clearly not answer.
He allowed her close, much closer than she would have ever expected without Kain's presence. And that in itself was disconcerting. He nipped at the sleeve of her armor, tugging slightly as if attempting to coax her closer. Ciri threw a concerned glance at Geralt before tentatively reaching up to stroke down Griffin's feathered neck, trying to assess his distress. Her hand caught on something sticky. Something that had not yet fully dried. Blood. It took her but a few seconds to put two and two together. Her gaze immediately found Geralt's yellow eyes in the dark again. "They're taking Oxenfurt!"
The Witcher set his jaw and nodded curtly, "Go. But don't be rash."
He waved a hand at her in encouragement and hopped into the saddle, galloping to where the sorceresses were keeping watch.
Ciri briefly toyed with the idea of letting the griffin take her to Oxenfurt, but soon decided against it. She didn't want to put him in unnecessary danger. Besides, it would take longer.
She threw a gander at Geralt, then vanished.
She appeared in the midst of chaos. Everywhere she looked there was ice, blood, and death. People were screaming and crying, several clutching their dead or trying to crawl away from The Hunt's Riders and their beasts.
Portals were still opening and Ciri did not hesitate to make use of the bombs in her bag, rapidly darting from portal to portal in order to close them before more elves could make it out on the other side. But she was forced to stop before long, too distracted by her enemies who had noticed her and were attempting to block her in with their bodies.
She threw the bag to a Redanian soldier who still had use of his arms and legs.
"Aim at the portals!" she commanded. "Close them up!"
The solider, momentarily befuddled, hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and got on with it, a few of his friends soon joining him to help where they could.
Ciri had drawn her sword and was hacking and slashing at everyone and everything that came for her, a green blur as she moved around the city, slaughtering and defending while trying to identify any of her fellow fighters as hers.
She saw none. Not Triss. Not Dandelion. Not Kain. She hoped they were out of harm's way, safely shielded somewhere. But she knew that could not be the truth. They would never hide when others were in danger. Especially Kain.
It seemed like a strange scene from one of her nightmares when she finally found Eredin. He stood out amongst everyone else, humans scattered at his feet like fallen tin soldiers, most of them partially or fully encased in ice. The King was facing someone in front of him, talking, too softly for Ciri to make out his words. As she crept closer and saw the familiar but bloodied and broken Kain, rage and fear ignited within her like a wildfire.
She rushed at the elf with a furious cry, a streak of green as she tackled his body with her own, limbs locking around him as she pulled him with her into the unknown.
"Ciri!" Kain screamed, though it came out more as a wheeze. The adrenaline rush that followed seeing her disappear into thin air with the Elf King aided, however, and Kain squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate effort to concentrate on the pulse inside his chest. He felt a touch of heat and forced it to get hotter and spread warmth through his aching limbs and break the spell. It took what felt like an eternity of biting pain of cold and warmth battling for every inch of his body. He ripped his boots off the ground with cracking of the frost around the soles and swirled just in time to stop the swing of the Mage's staff.
With a scream of anger and pain, Kain threw his free hand forth sending the Mage flying backwards. The Mage picked himself up very quickly and swung his staff again. Kain rolled away from the spell and snatched the familiar sword off the pavement before he got up to his feet. The sword was Ciri's. He dodged another spell from Caranthir – rolled away, gnashing his teeth in pain. When he got up, the Mage was gone, as well as the afterglow of his portal.
Deserted.
Good. There was plenty of Riders and hounds to still rip him apart, Kain noticed. He heaved a ragged sigh and sheathed Ciri's sword, looked down at his wounded side. The gash felt deep enough, and with the Frost spell gone the blood was back to gushing. Kain put a hand on it, stilling for a second, collecting power to stave the bleeding. He didn't feel he managed it to the fullest, but it had to do. There was no time for any pauses.
He raised his sword and hurried to aid the soldiers surrounded by a group of hounds.
Ciri groaned when she landed on something hard and jagged, her ribs aching from the impact. They'd fallen instead of appearing on solid ground. That used to happen quite a lot back when Ciri had not been in control of her traveling. It had been a long time since now.
She forced her eyes to open and lifted her head. The wind was roaring wildly, bringing with it drops of rain that splashed onto her face.
No, not rain. Water. The ocean. It was salty.
She'd taken them to a different world. One she could not remember having visited before. And they were on a rock in the middle of the ocean. The waves crashed angrily against the cliffs, continuing to spray her with water.
Ciri didn't have a chance to get back on her feet before a gloved hand grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, lifting her up and letting her dangle as though she was a naughty kitten.
Eredin peered up at her with a cold smile, though there was something new in his eyes. She couldn't decipher whether it was annoyance or a faint trepidation. He didn't like it here any more than she did.
When he spoke, it was in Elder Speech and due to her current state, Ciri had to concentrate hard to understand him.
"Take us home, Zireael."
Ciri reached for her sword and found it to be missing from its scabbard. She'd had it in Oxenfurt, but now… it was gone.
"Give yourself over, and your friends might yet live."
Her hand shifted subtly to her waist where a dagger hung from her belt. She withdrew it and raised it, swiftly aiming the tip for Eredin's eye, fueled by a strong desire to drive it straight through his eye socket and into his skull.
But he reacted too quickly. His other hand locked around her wrist and with superior strength, the elf twisted her hold on the dagger, forcing it into the front of Ciri's thigh instead. She couldn't withhold a cry of pain and the accompanying tears that sprang to her eyes.
Eredin smiled unpleasantly. "I promised you this would happen. For your own good. A few weeks without the use of your leg will help you reconsider your priorities."
Another shriek tore from her when he pulled the dagger out. A red rose rapidly bloomed on her trousers which were already soaked from the sea-spray.
Ignoring the instinct to reach for her wound and cover it, Ciri's hands clamped down on Eredin's head, her thumbs pushing into his eyes. She did not manage to do much damage, but the elf dropped her and the dagger both.
She landed harshly on her knees on the rock and briefly suspected her kneecaps had shattered.
Eredin growled in anger and started for her again once he'd blinked away whatever irritation she had managed to inflict.
Ciri didn't give him the chance to catch up again. She vanished in her familiar green light, leaving Eredin behind.
The golden swirls dissipated, baring the horrors of battle raging on the Oxenfurt streets; fire, ice, and bodies were laid out all over the ground, and black knights in familiar armor were cutting down men and women alike. Some of the civilians had joined the Redanians and were fighting back. Most unsuccessfully.
"Find her!" Yennefer beseeched Geralt, scanning the faces in search of Ciri, hardly flinching when a flame rushed past them and careened near a pack of hounds. She cast a glance in the direction she knew Triss to be and sent a familiar rush of golden light toward the pack, scooping up those that Kain hadn't managed to cut down until they'd hit air one after the other and Triss was able to light them up before they hit the ground.
The Witcher didn't waste any time as soon as he found his balance stepping out of the portal. He bared the sword and rushed to where Kain was fighting three Riders. He clashed in, expertly stabbing the closest one in the neck, then pushing the second away from Kain so the latter could deliver a blow and make the third lose his balance.
"Where is Ciri?" Geralt asked, sensing by the way Kain moved that he was barely holding on.
"I don't know," Kain grunted, ducking as he swept under the Rider's swinging sword and stabbed his into the gash between the shoulders and the helm. Blood gushed out in a crimson fan and the Rider slumped down.
He turned to stab the remaining Rider, and his sword slid into his armpit while Geralt's found the elf's throat. The dead knight fell down in a clang of metal against the pavement barely audible in the cacophony.
Geralt grabbed Kain's shoulder, squeezing.
"She went to help, she should be here."
"She's gone with their king, Eredin," Kain panted. "It… happened… so fast. She grabbed him… and disappeared. She took him somewhere. Dropped her sword." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder; Geralt raised his eyes to see Swallow's handle peeking from behind Kain's back.
"Dammit," the Witcher grunted. "I had to get Avallac'h but I had no time."
"How did you…"
"Your griffin came for her."
Kain winced and instinctively looked up, hoping to not see the beast in the sky. He wasn't there, but Kain still felt throes of worry. For both Griffin and Ciri.
"Find Yennefer," Geralt said. "Maybe she can think of something or get the darn Sage."
Kain nodded and they parted ways; the Witcher ran to engage another Rider who was near to killing a wounded soldier, and his brother took a quick look around, grimacing at the pain in his wound, and glimpsed where the fireballs were coming from. Triss was on one of the roofs. She wasn't alone.
Slashing a hound, then another on his way, Kain was halfway to the building when something like a hunch, a very powerful but brief one, pulled him in a different direction, away from the market and around the corner of the tavern. A glimpse of greenish gleam flashed there against a wall.
Ciri's aim was off. She had intended to bring herself back to the spot where she'd tackled Eredin, but had ended up somewhere else entirely.
At least it was Oxenfurt. She could tell by the lingering chaos.
Her leg was bleeding heavily and she was unable to put much of her weight on it at all, making walking particularly difficult. That did not stop her from acting once she caught sight of a Rider chasing a small child through the streets.
She jumped, slamming into him with so much force they both toppled over. The Rider lost his sword and Ciri reached for it. He clambered up her body, his fist connecting with her face as they grappled for the sword. He won. He was quicker.
But she was angrier.
The Rider's head exploded just as the drowner's had a few nights earlier. His body fell back on the ground again and Ciri released a small sigh of relief.
Kain yanked the dead Rider away to pull Ciri from under him. She seemed to be conscious, but barely, her eyes were rolling, her cheek was turning red with the fresh and heavy bruise saturating in color.
"Ciri, you hear me?" Kain pulled her into a sitting position, his eyes found her bleeding thigh. He sucked in a breath, pressing a palm down on it, closing his eyes. It took pain and more effort to concentrate; he persevered, but couldn't do more than just stop the bleeding. He was feeling woozy as he got to his feet and pulled her up. "Ciri? Can you walk?"
White-hot pain assaulted her senses and Ciri's eyes fluttered open to find Kain above her. She smiled. Seeing him was worth the discomfort of keeping her eyes open.
It took her a moment to register his question as he pulled her to her feet.
"Yes." Because she had no intention of being carried. Least of all not by him who was wounded as well. He looked awful. "Are… are the portals still coming?" she asked, limping awkwardly beside him and trying not to wince.
"Not as much, anymore… Maybe they had wasted their magic on it already – that would be too lucky to hope, but I do. It's been going on for a while."
He half-dragged her to the wall and into a narrow alley between the buildings, then recollected the map of the city in his head. He locked his eyes on hers.
"Do you remember where the Academy is? Can you go there? With your power? Find Dandelion and his medic friend. You need stitches or you'll bleed again – badly. See how they're doing – they had portals there and not enough guards. Triss had to pull out, and… I don't know if they're still all right. I need to get back to Geralt."
He pulled Swallow from the scabbard on his back and put it in her hand.
Her gaze fell to the blood on his side. "You need it just as much as I do. You're going to get yourself killed."
He shook his head urgently. "I'll be fine. Please, make sure they're fine. Help them. Please. They have no one. Just you." He pushed her sword-holding hand and stepped back. "I'll be fine. Promise. Go."
"Don't be a martyr," she warned, tightening the hold on her sword (which she had only just recognized as her own), and vanished.
He chuckled, wincing, and hurried back to the market square.
Geralt was easy to spot, his sword blinking in silver flashes too quick to watch, holding off two Riders and a hound.
Kain pulled a dagger from his belt and threw into the hound's neck, making it howl and stagger back, its paws clumsily scratching at the dagger buried deep in the flesh, its icy spikes shooting from the ground abruptly as it howled and yapped.
Kain slashed at one of the Riders' swords, redirecting the blow from Geralt while the Witcher focused on the other one and finished him in three quick slashes.
"Ciri?"
"She's back," Kain said, catching his breath, his hand unwittingly pressing into the aching side. "Her leg cut, but she'll be fine. I sent her to Dandelion."
Geralt took a wild look around, turning. "How many more are there?"
"More than we could hope for," Kain responded, spotting new reinforcements arriving from back alleys. From the woods, he imagined. Where he left some portals unattended. "Not enough bombs—"
"Dammit," Geralt hissed again. "Gotta tell Yen."
They didn't finish deciding who would tell Yen, for a bright glow enveloped one of the arrived Riders' units and exploded around them. Kain and Geralt ducked, covering their eyes. Kain heard chanting and sought the source with his squinted eyes. Avallac'h stood tall on one of the roofs around the square, his arms spread as he chanted another spell and sent it on the heads of another group – hounds this time.
"Good timing," Geralt muttered. Both witchers engaged the group running from the main street. The Elf's spells and Triss's fire rained around them while they crushed their blades against the enemies'.
Ciri arrived outside the square of the Academy. Her thinking had been that if the city itself was littered with Riders, this place would be no different. Especially if they knew of the people hiding inside.
She was right. Though there had surely been more of the elves earlier in the night, a few still lingered, attacking everything and everyone in their line of vision who did not wear their Hunt armor.
The dead were everywhere, as were the injured. Most of them were guards. But there seemed to also be a few civilians. Innocents who did not deserve their gruesome fate and who fueled Ciri's desire for vengeance. It gave her the strength she needed to continue fighting, despite her wounded leg which was oozing more and more blood whenever she was forced to put her weight on it.
She took full advantage of her power, letting the momentum of her travel through space do the heavy work, her sword always poised to slash at her target as she whooshed past them. Some fell dead immediately. Others did not. Their armor protected them, forcing Ciri to continue her assault while also defending herself and those few humans who were injured but still alive.
While she fought, she thought she could see Triss and a few others up on the Academy walls. But she did not have enough time to stop and make sure. She only had one priority now.
When there appeared to be a lull in new Riders in the Academy courtyard, Ciri stopped, leaning heavily on her sword which was poised on the cobblestones beneath her. She was tired and without any immediate danger in sight, her adrenaline was waning.
"Dande–... Dandelion?" she called towards the closed front door, her breathing heavy. "Are you all alright in there?"
"I'm here, Ciri! Here! I'm coming!" Dandelion rushed along the wall, bombs still in his hands, Shani close on his heel. They ran down the stairs and across the yard. Shani fell back trying to determine who was dead and whom she could still help.
"Ciri! Ciri, are you all ri-- Oh, you're bleeding! Shani! SHANI!" Dandelion wrapped an arm around Ciri's waist and led her cautiously toward a bench next to a destroyed flowerbed. "Here, sit down, carefully... good." He crouched before her, searching for more injuries.
Shani joined them, her eyes immediately locked on Ciri's bleeding thigh.
"Oh, it's a nasty one," she said and gave a meek smile of encouragement. "We need to get you inside. I'm Shani, a medic. Studied here some years ago."
"It's Ciri," Dandelion said. "Geralt's ward."
"Oh," Shani beamed. "Very honored to meet you. I've heard some wonderful things about you from this bard here."
She rummaged in her bag and produced a vial and a roll of bandages. She uncorked the vial and wet a piece of tissue she ripped from the roll, then held the vial over the wound.
"It's going to sting," she apologized and poured a little over the cut.
Despite it all, Ciri couldn't help but smile at Dandelion who fussed like a ruffled mother-hen. It was comical, but also filled her with a sense of affection for the man she considered family.
"It's fine. I am fine," she said, wincing not-so-subtly when Shani poured the solution over the open stab wound.
"There are others out there who need help more than I do."
Kain amongst others.
"Unfortunately we cannot go out until the attack is over," Dandelion said. "We can help no one if we get killed."
"No new portals here for quite some time now," Shani said, wrapping the wound in the tissue. "Maybe it's close to over."
"Their leaders have gone. I think most of the remaining Riders will be making their retreat if possible," Ciri said, shifting her hold on her sword before depositing it in its scabbard. "Can we do this quickly?" she asked Shani, gesturing to the wound. "It doesn't have to be pretty. I just need to get out there again."
Shani gave her a worried glance. "The wound is deep, but I can't tell how deep before I have a chance to examine it closer. It will need to be stitched and dressed properly. Best at my clinic, but if we are still stuck here, I... I shall see what I can do." She got up and jogged across the garden to a group of young people - probably medic students - that started to tend to the wounded.
"Thank you!" Ciri called after Shani as she went.
Civilians were reluctant to step outside.
She exchanged a few words with the students, arms waving to indicate their field of work and instructions, then headed back to the two.
"Have you seen Kain?" Dandelion asked. "Griffin? And how is Novigrad?"
"Griffin fetched me from Novigrad. There were no attacks there. They had us fooled." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Kain is wounded but he wouldn't leave Geralt's side. Sent me here to protect you and the medics. How's Triss?"
"Geralt's here?" Dandelion perked up. "Did you both... fly on the griffin?" He shook his head, confused.
"I assume he is here. I came before him." But Kain appeared to have seen him.
The bard cast a quick glance at the wall where Triss had been stationed before. "Triss went to help Kain. She's somewhere out there. Haven't you seen her? All that fire... she uses a lot of fire."
Ciri followed Dandelion's gaze. "She must be up high. I did not see her in the streets."
Dandelion winced. "Given the hell we found ourselves in, being on the streets kills you."
Shani crouched in front of Ciri and coaxed the girl to stretch her wounded leg a bit.
"I'll stitch you here, but if you really plan on fighting with that wound, I strongly recommend you don't. The bleeding could kill you very quickly. And then I won't be able to look Geralt in the eye - which I still hope to do when all this is over." She smiled nervously and unwrapped the wound, wiping carefully the oozing blood. "I have no anesthesia here," she warned.
Ciri watched the young woman with momentary confusion before realization struck. She was one of Geralt's girls? Good gods, that man had women everywhere! If Shani weren't just about to do Ciri a huge favor, she might have rolled her eyes in exasperation.
She didn't respond to the medic's advice, but braced herself, hands clutching the edges of the bench she was seated on. And when she could do no more to prepare herself, she gave Shani a nod of approval, allowing her to begin.
Shani dipped the bent needle in the vial, then threaded it and began to work, her expert movements indicated her intention to make it as quick and gentle as possible.
Dandelion winced and looked away, his eyes traveling around the once beautiful and blooming garden of the Academy inner court that used to inspire its students. Now it was a sorry sight with bodies and broken trees and flowers everywhere. Some wonderful marble statues and benches inherited by the city from the elven people that had built the foundation of Oxenfurt were broken and crushed. Dandelion shook his head slowly in lament.
"What a horrible night..."
The sky was beginning to turn pink with the upcoming dawn.
Ciri closed her eyes as Shani worked, her jaw set tightly. The pain was far worse than she had anticipated. It had been quite some time since she'd received a 'human' treatment for her wounds. Usually, Avallac'h would slap on some sort of salve and use his magic, chanting for hours to help her heal. This was different.
"If we don't fight back, every night will be like this," she lamented quietly, wincing. "There will be only death."
Shani frowned, "Don't say it like that. We still live. We will help those who survived. We need to think of life. If we think of death - everything is already lost, and there is no point in my profession."
Ciri shrugged. "Actually, this view greatly motivates me to keep fighting. Reminds me what is at stake."
"Good," Shani approved. "Giving up is not what life should be about." She finished her work and cut the thread, then unrolled more bandage tissue and made a dressing. "I'll need to see you at the Clinic to put a herbal salve on," she said. "Be careful with it. It can still bleed if you move too much."
"She won't," Dandelion said, giving Ciri a warning look of a stern father. "She will behave, or Geralt will be disappointed."
Ciri nodded at Shani. "Thank you." Then snorted at Dandelion. "That doesn't work on me, you know?"
She stood, careful not to put any real weight on her injured leg.
"I need to go find them. Make sure they are alright. Kain will need treatment as well. If he'll agree to it. I'll try to bring them and any other wounded here."