Prologue
Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon of the House of Raven is my name, she tried telling herself for what must have been the millionth time of her life. But just like all the previous times, this too was a lie. That's not your name, a quiet voice whispered back. A quiet voice that had not been silent for ten years now.
If she could have just one wish in the world, it would be to forget. To forget her past, to forget the life she once lived. To wake up with only the memories of a girl who had lived her full life as a princess and the consort of the Imperator. She had hoped the memories could simply fade and be forgotten, but they still remained.
The true Ciri was dead, had been for years after being slain in the Slaughter of Cintra, but no matter how much she remembered that, or how much she called herself Ciri, she could not bring herself to think of it as her name. The whole world would remember her as Princess Cirilla, yet…
She looked in the mirror as she finished putting on her earrings and made herself smile. The emperor was sure to tell her how lovely she looked like this. As beautiful as a queen ought to be. Nobody could deny her that much. None had ever called her ugly. Even from an early age, she'd been known as a very pretty girl. A deep part of her knew that was why she was chosen. They couldn't stomach an impersonator of the princess to be a girl that would be mocked as homely, and so they had selected her for that out of all the stray girls they could have had their choice of.
"Countess," she called out.
Stella Congrave came over to her. "Yes, dear?"
"I'm ready," she said with a deep breath. "Will you join me?"
"Of course, Cirilla. You look wonderful."
She gave a shy smile. "As do you, my lady."
Countess Stella Congrave had been the closest thing to a mother she had ever known. The woman who had raised her and educated her in all the matters of being a proper noble woman, it was only Lady Stella's help that had allowed her to make it this far.
As they made their way to the banquet hall, she found herself muttering a silent prayer to the Great Sun, hoping she would be blessed with a son soon. She did not pray to the Great Sun often, but many Nilfgardian nobles would be in the Golden City for the next month as Emperor Emhyr met with them and discussed the future of the realm. That would make for a splendid time to announce she had gotten with child.
"I give you her majesty, Princess Cirilla, Empress of Nilfgaard, Queen of Cintra, Suzerain of Attre and Abb Yarra, Princess of Brugge and Duchess of Sodden, Heiress to Inis Ard Skellig and Inis An Skellig, and Lady of Darn Rowan," the herald announced as she entered the hall. Immediately, she could tell the welcoming feast was already in full swing as nobles she had greeted just hours before with her husband were eating and drinking their fill. Looking around for a moment, she finally spotted the Imperator, speaking with young Morven Voorhis.
A middle aged man walked up to her before she could make it to Emhyr. "Your highness, might you do me the favor of joining me?"
She put a hand up to her face. "Forgive me, my lord, I cannot recall your name, just now."
"Adler is my name, though you need not ask for my forgiveness. I was never introduced to you, your grace."
"Where are you from?"
"Beauclair. You are more likely to recognize my brother's name, Raymund. He was the Duke of Toussaint, husband of Lady Anna Henrietta. I was hoping to speak with your husband at some point tonight."
"Oh, well maybe you would like to join me with him then?"
"I would be honored," Adler smiled. "Let's go to him, then."
They sat down next to her husband, who didn't seem to mind them joining. "I'm sure you'll have no lack of noble maidens that you can marry," the Emperor was saying. "You only need to make attempts."
"Yes, but she… she will be the one."
"Maybe."
The two men looked up at their new visitors.
"Your grace," Adler said, bowing before Emhyr var Emreis. "It is my pleasure to meet with you. I have the honor to be Sir Adler of Toussaint, the younger brother of the late Duke."
"Well met, sir. Have a seat, and drink with us." The emperor turned his attention towards her. "You look magnificent, Cirilla."
"Thank you," she said, with a smile, taking a seat next to him. He gave her a soft peck on the cheek, before turning his attention back to Adler.
"What business do you bring for me, sir?"
"The matter concerns the Duchy of Toussaint. Specifically, its inheritance. My brother failed to get a child by his wife in the years of marriage. The Duchess just celebrated her thirty fifth birthday, and seems completely uninterested in remarriage."
"I see… and who is it that you believe should be her heir?"
"The Duchess lacks children or siblings to follow after her, nor first or second cousins. All her remaining relatives are distant and spread far from Toussaint. By rights, the land should fall to me, as the former Duke's brother. I came to humbly request your grace's support for my claim to the duchy." Sir Adler paused, taking note of the Emperor's face, and choosing the next words out of his mouth carefully. "Support me, and I shall be forever indebted to you, your majesty. My line shall owe fealty to yours, and the Duchy of Toussaint will be among the loyalist vassals of the Nilfgaardian Empire."
"Thank you for your proposal, sir," the Imperator replied. "I hope that you'll find our city to be quite welcoming during your stay as I think over your proposal."
The knight looked both confused and disappointed. Clearly, he had expected a lengthy audience, not a conversation this brief. "And thank you for your consideration, your grace."
"I'll have chambers prepared for you in the palace to stay in. Until then, you're welcome to enjoy the feast." With that, her husband was clearly telling Sir Adler that their conversation was at an end and that he was best going somewhere else.
As the knight walked off, Morvran began to talk again. "The wealth of Toussaint-"
"Would be very useful in the event of a war, yes. Sir Adler seems to have forgotten something though."
"What's that?"
"I happen to be among those cousins he dismissed."
"Will you claim Toussaint yourself?" Morvran inquired. "Do you think there will be blowback from such a move?"
"The Duchess is fifteen years my junior," Emhyr pointed out, "but should she come to a premature death, I would attempt so, yes. Or more likely, claim it in a son's name."
Our son's name. "So what will you do with Sir Adler?" she asked.
"Keep him here. He might be useful, but until I have decided how, I'll keep him from returning to Toussaint."
"Why not let him return?"
"The Duchess and her husband got along poorly. There were stories of it even here. If Anna Henrietta learns of her brother-in-law's trip to Nilfgaard, she may begin to be suspicious. Even more so if she hears what she spoke to me of. Even if not, he might face trouble regardless. Safer to keep him here."
"Do you really think that we'll end up at war?"
"I do. It is only a matter of time before the northern kings attempt to retake Cintra. They'll take the offensive when they get the chance, and we must be ready when they do."
"We'll be ready," Morvran said firmly, "we await their move."
A look in her husband's eye seemed to indicate something else. But she didn't ask him about it. "Husband, might we share a dance when the next song begins? I feel the nobles ought to see their emperor and empress."
"Of course." He flashed her a smile.
When the next song played, they did indeed dance with one another, and when the song after that began to play, they remained with each other. Though on the third song, they split, as Emhyr continued to dance, while she ate some food.
She had a merry time that night. Feasting, frolicing and dancing had always made her happy, and today she had a magnificent time. Eventually though, she grew drowsy, and retired to her chambers, earlier than most, her husband among them.
Upon returning to her chambers, she started to feel a soreness in her throat. One that hadn't been bothering her at all during the day, but now she could feel. So she drank some water, and hoped that with rest, it would pass.
Almost immediately upon laying down, sleep came to her, though her slumbers were disturbed later during the night by her husband's voice. As she woke up, she heard Emhyr speaking to someone on the balcony outside their room, with the door open.
"What sort of job would you be hiring me for, Emperor?"
"I trust that you know me, as well as my ambitions. Twice I have overseen a Nilfgaard invasion of the North. The first time yielded Cintra but came to an end on Sodden Hill. The second came to an end during the Battle of Brenna and yielded even less. If it comes to another war, I cannot suffer another defeat. Victory must be assured."
"You want me to lead your armies for you?"
"I want you to ensure they'll have a victory. Temeria remains a thorn in my side. Under Foltest's rule, it's never clear whether he means to strike, and he is the greatest threat. With him gone, Temeria will crumble, and the rest of the north will follow. Henselt, Radovid, Meve, and Demavend aren't threats, but Foltest is."
"So that's it… you want me to kill Foltest."
"I do. Strike quickly, and leave the kingdom vulnerable."
"I'm a witcher, not an assassin."
"So you are. But witchers are a dying breed. All your schools have long closed, and no new witchers have been trained in years. I can change that."
"I'm listening."
"Service me in this, and I will restore the School of the Viper, in Nilfgaard. Supply you with gold, resources, castles, boys, knowledge- everything you can possibly require. The School of the Viper will return, far more powerful than it ever was. Just in return for this favor."
"You want me to kill Foltest… is that it?"
"You're to kill as many kings as you can. Find a way to pin it on the Lodge of Sorceresses. Sow chaos within the northern kingdoms, leave them leaderless in preparation for war."
"How am I to do that?"
"You only need to be seen in association with one of the members of the Lodge. Seek one out, get close to them, do their bidding and earn their trust. Serve their agenda. When the time is ripe, make your move. Your first attack needn't be an attempt against King Foltest, but something the sorceresses desire." Emhyr paused. "Soon after, word will spread across the north of the Kingslayer, hired by the Lodge. The rulers and their successors will be quick to blame the sorceresses, and begin their witch hunts, blind to the truth."
"What of their heirs- all the princes and princesses who will want revenge?"
"Some of them will be competent, I'm sure, maybe even more so than their predecessors, but they do not trouble me. The goal of this is to create chaos and division, first and foremost. The northern kingdoms can rally together against Nilfgaard, that much was shown at the Battle of Brenna, even with some of the rulers being incompetent. We must stop that from happening. Divided by their petty wars; they'll fall one after the other, and leave themselves weak for my invasion."
"I see…" the mysterious man's voice showed interest. "And all this for the rebuilding of the School of the Viper? It's a steep task."
"These assassinations must not be linked back to me. At least not for the time being. Still, you'll be able to find allies. Internally, the northern kings have no lack of foes, the same as I do, foes that you'll find help with. Showering you with honors and gold would be suitable, though unfortunately that will trace the killings to me. But I'm certain you'll find agreement that a restoration of your witcher school is worth it. None with any interest in restoring them will have the wealth and resources to restore them, and those with the wealth and resources to restore them don't have the interest. That leaves only me. You won't find another offer like mine, even if it means you betray your code."
"Tell me about the Lodge."
"To start, it is best to avoid most of the sorceresses. Phillipa Eilhart is too powerful and too reliable to make a good ally in this, and Yennefer of Vengeberg is dead, as is Sabrina Glessvig. Margarita Laux-Antille remains the headmistress at the school in Aretuza, unlikely to get herself involved in politics. Francesca Findabair, Fringilla Vigo and Assire var Anahid all have ties to Nilfgaard, which would make them suspicious. And my spies have failed to find the location of Kiera Metz."
"Who does that leave?"
"Triss Merigold and Sheala de Tancarville. De Tancarville has seldom taken an interest in politics, and will not make for the most ideal choice, though if you can win her trust, it would suffice."
"And Merigold?"
"Merigold is likely the wisest choice. She was once thought to have given her life fighting against me in the Battle of Sodden Hill, so it is of paramount importance that you do not reveal the truth of our agreement. Of the remaining members of the Lodge, she is the most likely to have troubles with the northern kings and the most involved in their politics. Win her trust, stay at her side, and do her bidding until the time is ripe."
"Where will I find her?"
"In the north. I've heard reports that she has taken up residence in Novigrad, though where in the city; I could not say. However, if you pursue her, you will need to let her find you, not the other way around. Do something that will gain her attention, and cause her to seek you out. It won't be the most difficult thing, I imagine. She is reputed to have a soft-spot for witchers."
"Hmm…" the mystery man must have been contemplating Emhyr's words. "I'll do the job, but I want certain assurances."
"What sort of assurances?"
"Your plans for the School of the Viper. I want details. Will you be rebuilding Gorthur Gvaed? Or will you be giving us other castles?"
"The destruction of the castle was the work of my predecessor, the usurper. If it's your wish that it is rebuilt, I will make it so. But if you desire a new location…"
"A restoration of Gorthur Gvaed would do nicely."
"How many others of your order are there?"
"I was traveling with two others, up until recently. There's two more besides who should still be on the trail. When word spreads of the school's restoration, they'll return."
"Their knowledge would be vital to the rebuilding of the school. If you would be able to direct them here, that would expedite the process." They were silent again for a few moments, until the Emperor began to speak again. "The SCoia'tael will prove to be the most useful allies in whatever you plan. They have a hatred for the northern kings, and an uneasy alliance with us. A rogue band would hardly be traced back to me."
"Mmm… any in particular that you know of?"
"There's one who I know of. Iorveth, a commander of an elven commando, the last one that fell in the Second Northern War. He hungers for revenge, and has the skills to make a useful partner in this."
"What's the catch?"
"Like most soldiers, he'll likely be too proud to do an assassination himself. But if you find him, he'll likely help you all the way until the knife is at the throat of Foltest and the rest."
"And would you know where to find him?"
"Not at all. That will be for you to do."
"Should leave before the morning. So no one will see me climbing down your palace walls."
"I agree. We shall meet again, Letho."
The large figure, the man named Letho, began climbing over the railing of the balcony, and she saw Emhyr starting to walk back into the bedroom. I should have just stayed asleep, she thought to herself, but her throat was getting sorer. As Emhyr was almost back to the bed, she involuntarily coughed for the first time.
"Are you awake?"
She didn't answer, instead pretending to still be sleeping. Her throat felt even more sore than it had been when she woke.
Without getting an answer, Emhyr got back into bed.
When she woke the next day, she felt even worse. Her throat was still very sore, but as she tried to sit up, she felt light-headed. By the time her husband awoke, she was sweating profusely and shivering at the same time, her forehead hot with a fever.
"My lady, are you alright?" he said, as he finally became aware of the world around him.
"No," she said, shaking her head. Her voice was weak and quiet. "Bring me Countess Stella."
Emhyr quickly got out of bed, and went to do just that, while she remained, unable to get back to her feet.
Several days passed, with her not getting any better. The Countess and Imperator remained at her side constantly, rarely going off to attend to other matters, and plenty of others came to wish her well or give her comforts.
None of it helped. Her condition only continued to get worse, with her spending most of her time just trying to sleep in order for the pain to not affect her. Even then, all it brought was even crazier dreams. She dreamt of lions and wolves hunting together and of a raven, white wolf and vampire fighting another vampire beneath a twisted crescent moon, over a bloodied ribbon. The next night brought dreams of a truly evil force being released from a fortress that had long contained it, bringing woe and dread to the world. After that, came the dreams of a albino dragon emerging from the depths of the ocean with a seastar in hand, while a black raven with three eyes emerged to peck at the seastar.
Each dream brought her more freight and seemed less comprehensible than the one that had come before, until she finally fell asleep on the fourth night after the grand feast.
The dream was clear. Clearer than any other dream she'd had in her life.
She was at the top of a mountain. A man and a woman stood together, looking out at the harbor and sea below, a young girl- almost certainly the woman's daughter, sitting atop her mother's shoulders. The girl's hair was ashen grey and her eyes were like two green emeralds, and the young woman looked a lot like she did, which was surprising. And the man…
Emhyr, she recognized. He was years younger, his face less worn, and with a full beard, but she knew that face well enough to recognize her husband. "Your mother wished us to return from Skellige tomorrow," he said.
This can't be real, she thought to herself. What was Emhyr doing on Skellige?
"She did," the young woman said, "but we don't have to listen to her about everything."
"She's the queen."
"And I'm her daughter. We can stay a few more days here. She won't do anything."
Emhyr did not argue with the woman. "As you say, Pavetta. Still, if your mother is angry, I will be sure to let her know this was your idea."
"What about you, Ciri? Do you want to stay?" Pavetta asked.
Ciri?
The girl nodded as the couple looked up at her. "I want to stay, mama."
"She's only saying that because she doesn't want to sail," Emhyr pointed out.
"I like boats, papa!"
"Oh… I know you do," Pavetta said, looking up at the girl with a smile. "We'll be sailing soon, Ciri, just not tomorrow."
The girl… Ciri… no… no it can't be. Emhyr…
"I'm marrying Hjalmer when we come back!" the child declared with a grin.
"You're marrying Hjalmer?" Ciri's mother looked confused.
"We're betrothed."
"Says who?" Emhyr asked.
"Hjalmer did." The girl seemed very pleased by all of this. "I'm to be his wife."
"You're too young to be his wife," he reminded her.
Pavetta was playing with the girl on her shoulders while she spoke. "Your father is right. When you're older, maybe you'll marry Hjalmer. But certainly not the next time we're here."
The girl who had been so happy with her plan just moments before now seemed on the brink of tears. "But… but Hjalmer…"
"Hush, child," Emhyr said.
A tear was glistening in the girl's eyes, making it now look almost like it was shining. "I want to marry-"
"-Not yet, you don't."
The girl started crying, and her mother took her down from her shoulders, now holding the sobbing Ciri into her chest. "Someday, I promise, you'll find someone just right for you. I know it," Pavetta whispered.
The trio began to walk away, leaving her alone. Ciri was his daughter? How could he…
She had known that much of her husband's past was ambiguous. What he had been doing during the reign of the usurper was a mystery that he had never spoken about, even when she had tried asking him. But this… this was about as far from what she had ever imagined.
The dream was fading.
It can't be… it can't be… it can't be… it can't-
She never woke again.
Author Notes:
Yes, I published my prologue after already having written and published 19 full chapters.
No. I will not be apologizing.
At first, I didn't really feel this fic needed a prologue, but as the story grew and got more fleshed out, I felt the need to add one more and more, so… here it is.
And for those who start reading this story after this chapter is published… well, have fun. We're all gonna be in for a wild ride.