- And you were like "slash, slash", and Kazimierz was "cling, clang"! – Witold mimcked the fight yet again. – I want to learn how to fight just like that!

- You will, don't worry. – Ciri said while walking towards Percival's home.

- I will be big and strong, just like Granpa! – He exclaimed, walked towards the door, but suddenly stopped. – Granpa! I forgot!

- About what?

- His Name day! He said that he celebrated it with my mom!

Before Ciri could say anything, Witold put his finger in "shush" gesture.

- It is a surprise. – He whispered. – I hid it behind the house, so wait for me here, ok?

- Sure. – She whispered back, and Witold run behind the wooden house, looking for the hidden gift for his grandfather. While Ciri waited, she looked at the window and noticed that lights inside the house were… dim. Like Percival didn't fire a single candle.

Curiosity overtook her, and she quietly leaned to look, what is going on inside.

Percival sat on small chair, just before the fireplace, from which small fire burnt. Although Ciri could see only his back, from that posture she could clearly see that he stares at the fire completely motionless, holding near-empty glass bottle of some green liquid with his left hand. While fire slowly burnt away, he reached for his holster, and started pulling out his pistol made of white wood. To her shock, he turned his head towards the end of the barrel, allowing her to see his emotionless, pale face. Before she could do anything, before fire completely extinguished, Witold bursted through the door, holding something in hands.

- Happy Name's Day! – He yelled, and rushed to his Grandfather. All the sudden, colors returned to him, he put his weapon back in the holster and fire in the fireplace rose up again.

Ciri watched how Witold give his grandfather small figure carved from wood, and all colors returned to retired soldier face, while fire behind him rose again in the chimney.

- You did it yourself? – Percival examined the figure. – It is very well done.

- I tried to make it look like you.

- The resemblance is great. – He turned to Ciri, when she finally walked into the house. – How was the celebration?

- It was eventful. – She nodded, and put her borrowed blade on the side. She took a careful look at the bottle, smelling something strange, probably from the bottle, which Percival now tried to hide under his chair. That smell, which caused, already started to give her headache.

- I see they gave you a new sword.

- Only borrowed for some time. – She looked at the blade, seeing her own reflection in it, trying to forget about that smell, thinking it is some kind of local alcohol. Never thought he is a drinker. – It is great weapon, but I would love to find my own.

- Right, you lost it near the place I found you?

- Probably.

I hope that "Daemon" or "God" is not keeping it. She thought, planning to go and find it before she leave to village.

- But why they let you borrow a blade?

- Because she won in a duel against uncle Kazi! – Witold said. – And uncle Kazi said " Until you find your own blade, use this."

- Wait, seriously? – Percival asked.

- He is very good. – She admitted. – And he showed that, but yeah, I won.

- And I missed that!? – Percival looked at her with shock. – Please, tell me everything.

- I can do it for you Granpa! – Witold cheerfully said. – Soo, it all begun…

While he was speaking, Ciri decided that she needs to say thing or two to her host. Although he looked like nothing happened, and Witold was oblivious to everything, Ciri recognized this. Empty bottle, emotionless stare… She knew it to well.

The look of the dead man walking.

Norsca

Come to me…

Thormis opened his eyes, and looked around himself.

- You finally awake Chief. – Throgar said, walking beside the horse which carried his Blood-Brother.

- What… - He tried to say, but only quite gurgle left his throat.

- Avalanche threw us into the canyon. – Throgar explained, understanding what Thromis wanted to say. – We are though, and survived. Horses, on the other hand…

Thormis turned his head, and pained growl left his mouth, because only four steeds remained, on which most heavily wounded were carried, while those bruised walked beside them, or were carried by their comrades, like one of the Murder Twins caring his brother on his back.

- At least it gave us some distance between the Rotbloods and us.

- It… won't help. – Thormis said with great pain in his lungs. – It wasn't… simple patrol…

- Yeah, from all those chants and heavy warriors I assume that we got ourselves on the way off entire warhost.

- How…

- Rest Chief. – Throgar put his hand on his chest. – That Warrior hit you pretty hard.

- I will… Kill him. – He stated, and coughed blood on the snow.

- Only after me Chief. – Warrior with now only one hand said. – That bastard killed Hrogar and Yrgul, Hound demands vengeance.

- And he shall get it Murgil, but now, we need to find some way out of the canyon. – Throgar said. – Or shelter to lick our wounds and rest.

Although they were tired after battle, mauled by the Avalanche and tired after hours of walking through the snowstorm, Most of them were weary that another stop will mean yet another ambush. And another ambush will probably mean their demise.

Thormis turned his acheing body to look at his Blood-Brother, but instead of proud Norscan Hunter, he saw walking skeleton. When he blinked, all of Throgar flesh and bones were in place. He looked at his hands, and instead of sturdy, battle worn hands, he saw boney-fingers.

Another hit of the nearly unbearable pain from his lungs caused him to lose consciousness yet again.

Wyjchera, the next day,

Ciri opened her eyes, and coughed due all the ash in the air. She looked around, only hearing the cries and roars. She couldn't recognize the town she was in, but all the buildings had similar architecture to the Northern kingdoms. Certainly not Cintra.

- This way! – She heard, and few Kislevite soldiers run past her

- Too many! – She heard from another alley, and soon weapons clashed. She watched how Kislevites reorganize their shield wall, just when wave of, what now she recognized as Norscans, came from around the corner.

As soon, as they came, she took her sword and tried to struck one of the charging madaman, but her sword passed through him like it was made from the air. Soon, whole wave of the warriors, screaming their cries of war.

She looked back at the charging horde, and pondered about this vision.

Is this yet another future? Or a metaphor?

She blinked, and one burning street changed to another, not as much set aflame. Before Ciri could ask herself what is going on, young woman with blonde hair, wearing light infantry leather armor, run through the street as fast as she could, bleeding from many wounds. In her hands, she held something small, keeping it as close to her heart as possible. Soon, terrifying roar broke through the city, and fires rose up again. Ciri turned from the woman for just a moment to see enormous monster with dragon-like wings crushed the stone tower afar. Soon after, both Ciri and running Kiselvite heard roars of the unleashed horde nearby.

Ciri watched in silence how woman look around in desperation, knowing that her strength will soon run out, and she won't be able to escape. She looked at the wrapped bundel, and small hands reached from there. She run towards the nearest abandoned building made of stone, and for a moment Ciri lost her from her sight, but curious what happened, Ziereal walked into the building as well.

Everything was a mess inside, tables were knocked, windows shattered, and large boulder lied inside, probably the cause for all of this destruction, as well as the giant hole in the ceiling.

- Its ok. – Ciri heard, and watched how woman tries to comfort her child, which she put in the chimney and desperately covered with broken wood and stones. – Mama is going for a moment, just a moment.

Ciri looked at the child, one year old boy, who cried both from fear, desperately reaching for her mother, but woman, with tears in her eyes, gave his son one last kiss on the forehead. Soon, both woman heard the rampaging horde, and with anger in her eyes, blonde run out, holding her sword high.

- Come on you whoresons! – She yelled, and started to run again, disappearing from Ciri's view. – Try to collect this skull, you Dog-fuckers!

Soon after that, large group of Norscans rushed behind the running Kislevite, their axes and swords eager to spill blood. Ciri remained silent, thinking about this sacrifice, hoping it didn't went to waste.

Come on you fuckers. She watched more Norscans with drakkar painted on their shields running after the child's mother, hoping the horde will soon end. Get as far as possible.

When the last Norscans run past her, child sobs became a little louder, and one of the Norscans, with young face and without a beard, too weak to catch up with the rest of the warriors heard it. Ciri watched in horror how he walked into the building, carefully looking for the source of the cries. Ciri put her hand on the sword yet again, knowing that it won't help. Young Norscan finally approached the chimney, took some stones and wood away and looked inside. When he found the source, his grin widened.

Ciri stood behind the Norscan when he raised his sword, and Ciri did the same. She knew it won't help, but not even trying will hunt her forever. Just when he was about to strike the child, Norscan frowned, like something unexpected have happened behind him. Before he could do anything, Ciri's sword fell, and to her surprise, cleaved Norscan in half.

When the body fell, she felt his blood landing on her, and she jumped back not because of blood, nor because of the kill, but because it was the first time, when she killed someone in her vision, and it felt so… real.

She shook her head, knelt to the chimney and looked into child's eyes, and she had again this strange feeling. The feeling when she…

- You ok? – Witold suddenly asked, waking Ciri up. – Something is wrong? You look like you have a nightmare.

- Its nothing. – She raised on her feet, looked around only to see Witold in his thick coat. – Where is?

- Granpa went to gather some wood from the forest. – Witold said. – He will come later.

- I see. – She said, angered a little, since she wanted to ask Percival about the… incident. – So, you want to join your friends.

- Ye! – Witold nodded. – Granpa said that you will walk with me to the village.

- Just, give me a moment, alright?

- Ye! – child said before leaving the room and shutting up the door.

Dreams. They should bring comfort and guarantee a good sleep. For Ciri, sleep only brought more and more nightmares, like that one before. Some were "innocent", like ravens flying circles around her or giant wolf packs descend at her, crows feasting on the field of battle or snakes piling in the deep pit. Other were more disturbing, like Shadows stalking her from every corner, monsters with near thousand faces whispering to her. And now. – dream about yet another destruction of the city.

She frowned when she remembered the words from Morr, about Dreams "Being something more from beings like them." Maybe. Ciri thought Just maybe, instead of giving me yet another warning, give me a solution?

That was the problem with all those prophecies and visions. – They show one of many futures, that she must avoid at all cost, warn her about danger, but showing her when or where it will occur, or how to prevent it. – Nope.

Now fully dressed, Ciri put her borrowed blade on her back, and opened the door.

- Ready? – Witold asked, after Ciri nodded in agreement.

I will find Percival later. She casted her thoughts about dreams away for now I just hope he won't do anything stupid.

'

When she came to Wyjchera for the first time, it wasn't very active, but since soldiers returned to their homes, moods of the villagers greatly increased. As she walked into the village, she heard how each family tries to make up for the lost time. And also, as a pleasant surprise, citizens of Wyjchera didn't look at her with that much animosity as before. At least, most of them.

- There she is. – Oswald whispered to the soldier he was talking to. – A witch from the snow.

- You sure? – Soldier looked at her. – Yesterday, she seemed normal.

- That's a mask she put to fool you! – He replied in anger – I tell you, she will bring us only pain.

- What should we do?

- Maybe quit yapping behind other's back, drinking poor vodka and do something useful instead? – Kazimierz leaned towards them, looking at each off them. On soldier's face, shame grew, but Oswald remain undeterred.

- How can you defend…?

- Because she is our guest, and we should act like proper hosts. Believe me, Igor would be ashamed to see you acting like that.

Oswald rose up to his feet, wanting to start and argument, but when he looked into Kazimierz's eyes, he frowned, and shook his head.

-Anything more too add? – Kazimierz asked, seemingly friendly, but subtle irritation could also be heard.

- …No.

- You know, we can spar just like I yesterday with Kazimierz. – Ciri suddenly said, causing Oswald to turn towards her. – We could clear some of the misunderstandings. Unless your age don't allow for activity?

Again, Oswald wanted to say something, but look from Kazimierz put him back in his place. Defeated, he decided to cut his losses and went elsewhere, probably to his home. Kazimierz watched him carefully, and then sighed, anger leaving his scarred face.

- Now, this matter dealt with. – He turned to Ciri and Witold. –Hello Ciri. I hoped I will meet you today.

- Hi uncle! – Witold acknowledged his presence, and Kazimierz knelt and scratched child's head with his right hand.

- And of course hi Witold. – He looked at the child for a moment, and again turned to Ciri. – May you give me some minutes with her, Wit? I need to talk with her.

- But Granpa said I am under her care…- Witold thought for a moment, and idea came to him. – Unless she agree! – Witold turned to her. – May I go?

- You may. – Ciri encouraged, and soon the child run away towards the rest of the group.

- Do not steal Brother's cap this time! – Kazimierz yelled behind the running kid, and shook his head. – Kids this days.

- So, you wanted to talk. Perhaps another round?

- By Ursun, not today! – he raised his hands in defensive gesture. – I recognize that I need some training before we fight again. But don't get me wrong, I will look out for a rematch.

- Can't wait. – She nodded. - Then what is it?

- Please, take a seat. – He pointed and large bench. – It may be important to you.

She nodded, and both sat at the wooden bench, Ciri curious about what swordsman want to talk about, and Kazimierz slightly nervous.

- I heard you are leaving soon. – He said. – Three days?

- Maybe earlier, since Percival is already preparing the horses. Well, now he went into the forest, but soon enough he should be ready.

- That's good, really good. – He said, and left a heavy sigh again. – And you go to the Erengrad, correct?

- I never were there, so I trust Percival about that.

- He is trustworthy, don't worry. Other thing disturbs me.

- Which is? – Ciri raised an eyebrow.

- For Percival and Oswald, Erengrad is… a place, where their lives changed.

- Their children died there? – she asked, and Kazimierz looked at her with surprise.

- He told you?

- No, I figured it out on my own. Oswald reacts like many fathers, who lost their children in the war, while Percival is very protective of his grandson, which means…

- …That Witold is the last thing connecting him to Annabel. – Kazimierz nodded.

- You knew her? – Ciri asked.

- We served in the same unit for some time, until she got married with Oswald's son and started to live there. She wanted a fresh start, at least, that what she said to Percival, while Igor wanted to live with a woman of his life. We visited them from time to time. – He smiled a little, good memories flooding him. – They were so happy together, they even built their new home.

- And then, it all went to shit.

Kazimierz's face turned grim, and slightly nodded in agreement.

- It all went to shit. – He said. – Large armada of Skealings attacked the city, while my unit was stationed within the city walls. Due of the fog, they took us completely by surprise…

'

- All forces to the city square! – Boyar yelled, slicing Khornite warrior in half. – Retreat back to the city square!

Large formations of Kislevites run through the main street, pursued by whole army of marauders and beasts of chaos. Despite rearguard valiant efforts, many units trying to regroup were caught by rampaging horde, and forced to perform last stand, just to allow few more soldiers to escape.

- This way! – Few years younger Kazimierz pointed at the side with his sword, and his squad followed through the narrow back alleys, leaving more space for retreating soldiers. They run through the ruined buildings, avoiding fire raining from the sky, wanting to reach the Main Square before Norscans overrun them, as well as catch some invaders off guard. Soon, they found themselves on another large street, on which many wooden carts were piled on one another and set aflame, just to slow Skealings down. Kazimierz carefully looked around for any sight of the enemy, but the street was, for now, clear.

With gesture of his hand, he ordered his squad to follow, and they started walking down the street. Unlike Norscans, who came to invade them, they knew how to walk through the narrow back alleys of the Erengrad, allowing small parties of Kislavites to launch surprise attacks, lure Chaos worshippers into ambushes, or simply reduce their number advantage. Sometimes, those raiding parties found themselves behind major warbands, and wreak havoc against their backline, if attack was well timed. But the risk of finding themselves at the front of the main assault was always a possibility.

Kazimierz raised his hand, and his squad halted. They heard fighting down the street. They quickly run towards the noise, and soon, they found themselves behind at least fifteen Norscans, who tried to their best kill lone kossar, who put remarkable defense against them, using stairs as her advantage against marauders, but she was already bleeding from many wounds all across her body, while her face was nearly cut in half.

Without a single command they launched into the action, and before Norscans noticed, five of them were cut down by Kislev's steel swords and axes. When marauders finally realized that enemy is behind them, it was too late, and they found themselves pinned against the wall of the ruined building, and couldn't defend themselves properly. Soon after, each marauder fell against wrath of the Comrades of the Bear.

Only when the last Norscan fell, woman with blond hair fell on her knees, and blood soaked sword fell from her hands. Kazimierz quickly jumped towards her, preventing her from falling over.

- It is going to be… - He started to say, but as soon as he finally recognized her, he stopped.

- Anna…

'

- I held her in my hands, watching how last breath leaves her lungs, and soon, her spirit left her body. – He shook his head. – If I only…

- You couldn't do much more than you already did. – Ciri interrupted. – Knowing those Norscans, they would violate her body to their own amusement. At least, you gave her somewhat calm death.

- You may be right, but still, seeing her broken body, her once beautiful face nearly torn apart… It was hard.

- Not doubting that.

- But there is more. Right before she passed away, she whispered to me…

'

- You can't go alone. – his sqaudmate argued. – That area is already taken!

- I know these streets just as I know you all, I will be fine. – He said. – Go to the city square, reinforce them, I will join you soon. – He started to run towards the alley, when one of the soldiers suddenly said.

- Kazi…

- Yes? – He turned towards his companion.

- Good luck.

Kazimierz nodded, and started to run through the ruined city.

Once beautiful city, one of three major population centers in entire tsardom, center of trade, cultural exchange and massive wealth, city made of stone, but mostly from wood, burned in crimson fire. When Egil launched his hordes into the city, somehow bypassing the sea-mines, he broke through the line of defense using some infernal machines, which spew fire so hot that it bent metal and incinerated entire neighborhoods in opening salvo. Soon after, when the port was taken, Thousands of warriors started their assault, slaughtering everyone and everything they came by. By the time Garrison reacted, Port has already fallen, and soon fighting reached the temple of Ursun, which were heavily defended by zealots and pilgrims, slowing the advance down. But still, Skealings pressed on, towards the Main square. If they take it, city will fall under their control, and reinforcements won't be able to push them out.

Kazimierz run through yet another burning building, and soon he ducked to the ground when another fireball flew through the sky. He clearly heard the explosion happening near him. He didn't have much time.

He jumped out of cover, and rushed to the other side of the street. He looked around, looking for the building made of stone Anna said before she passed. Before he could find it, green light shined from one of the ruined bakeries. He made sure that no raiders are near, and quickly run towards the building, wanting to investigate. When he walked through the broken door, surprising sight caught him.

'

- I found him there. – Kazimierz said. – And I took him with me back to our lines. Anna wished that her child will grow with her father, and I obliged. That was all I could do for her.

- You put yourself in risk for a friend. – Ciri nodded. – That means a lot. But why are you telling me this?

- Because for both Percival and Witold, this city is a place of their trauma. – He said, and turned to her. – And you should expect that this journey will mean a lot to them. Although I don't know you well, they seem to like you, which means I will trust you too. I rarely ask others for favors, but please, don't let anything bad happen to them. They already suffered enough.

- I will do my best. – She assured him, and turned towards him - But I think you should come with us. After all, you saved Witold's life. You would also be able to help both him, and Percival.

- I know I should. – He said. – But I don't want to leave my brother now. Not when he is nearly ready. I made a promise to him that we will spend some time together in peace, before our relation become "officer-soldier". – He scratched his chin. – Well, that is after a first promise.

- Which is? – she asked out of curiosity.

- That I will tell something good about him. – He answered, and Ciri smiled.

- He is that kind of man?

- He was always nervous. – Kazimierz remarked. - But he is very good fighter, selfless and brave. He just… don't know how to start a conversation.

- I understand, really. – She said. – After all, I came out of nowhere, some call me "daemon" while others call me "an elf". His anxiety here is not misplaced.

- Heh. – Kazimierz chuckled. – If only that was a case.

Ciri wanted to continue the topic, but some strange feeling got her, like flicker of the memory.

- Tell me, when you found Witold, was there a dead body of a Norscan?

- What?

- Cleaved in half, to be exact.

Kazimierz started to think about a question.

- Actually… - He only said, but before he could give an answer, Zuza's hand landed on Kazimierz's shoulder

- I need to speak with our guest. – She stated. – You will end your discussion another time.

- But… - He wanted to argue, but seeing her cold as steel stare shut him up. He sighed and raised from the bench.

- I will look for my brother. – Kazimierz said. – And I will try to find the answer later, alright?

- Sure. – Ciri agreed, and when he walked far enough, she turned her head towards Zuza.

- So…

- With me. – Zuza said, and started to walk away. Ciri looked at her with surprise, and Zuza shook her head in disappointment.

- Did I stutter?

- No?

- Then what are you waiting for? Follow me, now.

Shaking her head, Ciri rose up from the bench and followed the herbalist. The way Zuza spoke was more akin of the sorceress from the Northern Kingdoms, not a "normal" herbalist from the village in the middle of nowhere, almost reminding Ciri of her long dead grandmother. She didn't notice it before, because both women barely spoke with one another. In fact, after minute of thinking while walking behind Zuza Ciri realized that all this time, Zuza tried to avoid her, instead observing Ciri from a distance. This is the first time she approached and spoke to her directly.

Ciri could only wonder what event changed that.

'

Changeling observed the village from his hiding spot, carefully waiting for the occasion. He watched the group of young kids playing with snow, throwing snowballs at each other, making snowman's and such. As he hoped, they were unsupervised this time, because mortal designated to keep watch over them was currently… practicing something.

His new form would chuckle, but sadly bug are not able to do so. Nevertheless, that mortal's mistake will cost him. Dearly. He launched into the air, and flew towards the group.

- Catch! – snowball flew straight into girl's head, but she ducked into pile of snow just to avoid it. When she pulled her head out, she started to gather snow to make a response, when suddenly small bug landed before her face. She blinked in surprise, but then, the butterfly opened its wings.

They were… Mesmerizing. Blue and violet danced in her eyes while golden orb on each wing formed some kind of eyes, staring into her very soul, and igniting her curiosity to unimaginable point. Then, color around the golden orbs changed into crimson and green, matching her green eyes.

She tried to catch it, but butterfly gently jumped back a little, then again, then again. She rose on her feet and started chasing a butterfly, which started to fly away.

- Kasia! Hey! – One of the kid looked in her direction, and he saw a glimpse of the wing.

Follow. Kid heard a whisper You feel their warmth of your grandmother, don't you Mieszko?

Indeed, Mieszko even from here felt how wings warm his body, like when he was younger and his grandma told him bedtime stories near the fireplace, until she passed away in her sleep. He knew that butterfly somehow replicate this calm and warmth, and Mieszko wanted to feel this exact feeling yet again. Soon, he followed the call, and the rest of the group, for different reason each, also gave chase after the butterfly.

Follow. Changeling whispered to all of them. Unto our Danse Macabre.

- Hey, what did I miss? – Witold arrived and asked cheerfully, only to see whole group run away, like they were chasing something.

- Hey! – He yelled towards them, but to response. He looked around, but he saw no one. – Bernard told us not to run that far without him! – He yelled again, but to no avail. Fearing that his friends will run too far away, he gave chase too.

'

Zuza opened a door to her house and walked into it, and gestured Ciri to do so as well.

- So, what is all about? – Ciri asked while closing the door behind, and then took a look on the interior of herbalist house.

Entire shelfs filled potions, various decocts and many more ingredients, each cataloged with quick description "when to use it", "When you should use it" and "When you MUST use it". In addition, entire shelfs were filled with so many books that even chief librarian in Oxenfurt would be impressed. This made entire house cramped, but Zuza somehow navigated through this, while Ciri nearly tripped on hidden chair.

- About your departure. – Zuza said, and walked towards the large table in the corner.

- Another friendly advice? – Ciri asked, avoding the glass bottle full of blue liquid, and when she approached Zuza, herbalist turned to her and handed her something.

- This will give you a place to stay in the palace. – Herbalist said when Ciri looked at the item in her hand – A five point white snowflake in shape of the star on blue pattern. – Grand City of Kislev is two weeks from here on horseback.

- What?

- Horse is prepared behind the house, with enough provisions for month. Also with medication…

- Slow down! – Ciri interrupted. – Maybe tell me what is going on?

Zuza looked into her eyes, and Ciri felt like that stare could freeze the sun itself, but ashen-hair didn't flinch or moved backwards, instead mimicking the action of the herbalist.

- You are going today, this evening. – Zuza said. – When you reach Tzarina, ask for refuge. Just in case, say my name – Zuzanna from Wyjchera. She will hear you

- But…

- After you reach the city, you will just have to show the guards the emblem I gave you, they will lead to her. Of, if she is abroad, they will lead you to Grand Mistress of Ice Court.

- Percival promised that he will guide me to the Erengrad.

- That's out of question. – Zuza countered, and gave Ciri a sheet of paper. – This map will help you navigate through the Kislev, you won't lose the way towards the city.

- Why is it out of question?

- He is unfit for such travels.

- Unfit? – Ciri was baffled at this remark, knowing that Percival pulled sledges of wood without much effort. Unless she means his mind, because that is a different story. – In body, or in mind?

- He can't go. – Zuza said.

- You know that I can go alone to Erengrad if you insist so much? He told me a way.

- And wander around like some vagabond? You look like one, that for sure.

- Better to wander around than being a pawn in hands of another ruler.

- Look. – Zuza stated – I know what you mean, but sometimes it is easier and better to ask for some help. Tzarina will treat you fairly, and, unlike Percival, She has resources to help you.

- And how do you know that?

- I know some things. And, after all, you know nothing about this world, about the dangers it offers for lone travelers. Not to mention your magic.

- What? – Ciri raised her eyebrow in surprise.

- You can't hide it. At least, not to people like me. Anyone with even mediocre connection to the winds could see it. – Suddenly Zuza closed her eyes, and soon after, Ciri felt a lot of power from the seemingly defenseless herbalist.

- Nice trick. How did you do that?

- Your magic is like entire lighthouse in the middle of the night. You will attract Chaos for sure like moths to fire, and only Ice Court will protect you from its influence.

- How do they plan to fight Chaos?

- They did for thousands for years, and will for thousand more. They have experience, and you have power, which is… astounding.

- So it is not genuine gesture of help, you just want to handle my to your leaders.

- No. – Zuza scoffed. – They are not my leaders. We respect each other, sometimes work with one another, but we separate. But I see that your power is not only matching the sorcerers of the old, which is by itself impressive, it is not connected to the winds of magic in any way. This must be something more than the accident you landed here.

- It wasn't. – Ciri shook her head. – A monster caused it, separating me from a friend.

- That was certainly a servant of Chaos. Then It is worse than I thought. You need to meet Tzarina as fast as possible.

- Are you sure they will help me return home? – Ciri said, still not entirely convinced, but Zuza walked past her, towards the door. – Because It sounds like the opposite.

- They will. Now go, we don't have time.

Ciri sighed and wanted to argue more, but soon she noticed something familiar on one of the shelfs. She walked towards the shelf, avoiding very small chair, and looked at numerous potions, each of different color. Sometimes, when she was younger and lived in Kaer Morhen, she loved to sneak into the laboratory, and watch how uncle Vesemir makes potions, decocts and of course, on rare occasions, White Seagull, which later witcher's could use in their journey's, or, in white seagull's case, drink it during winter's cold afternoon's. They once gave her some to taste, and the results were… unexpected, to say a least.

But her attention was focused on bottle with deep-green liquid inside, similar to one she saw somewhere before. Right.

Before Zuza could notice what is going on, Ciri grabbed the bottle and opened it.

- What are you…!? – sorceress eyes widened when Ciri nearly fell down on her knees just from the foul scent of the green liquid. Still Coughing, she closed the bottle, and shook her head, trying to lessen the dizziness.

- Stupid Girl! – Zuza rushed to her and reached to grab her arm. – It is not…

- Drinkable? Because it smells like shit. – Ciri pushed the hand away. – My head…

- No wonder. – Zuza looked at Ciri with anger. – This potion is meant to put mind at ease.

- Like some kind off… Painkiller?

- Painkiller?

- I once heard that word. And would gladly take one now.

- In this terms yes, it is painkiller for troubled minds. I don't know what made you open it, but even the smell will… - Zuza stopped, seeing Ciri's anger.

- "For troubled minds" you say? Like Percival? Because it looks like you are drugging him.

- I don't need to… - Zuza wanted to answer coldly, but Ciri interrupted, and the ashen hair looked directly into herbalist's eyes

- Oh no, now you need to explain some of your bullshit.

Author's note at the end
I wanted to make it a longer chapter, and never wanted separate it in two, but second part took me longer than expected, and I accidentally made the setup, so sorry about that.

To answer the review from Micelzod:
Aen Elle would be absolutly stomped by major factions of Warhammer, probably even by some minor too. If they went there now.