The foul stench of smoke and inhuman screeches all around Ciri woke her up. She coughed few times and rose on her feet, trying to perceive through the ash and fire, but she barely saw her own hands.
Where am I? – She thought while walking through the smoke, trying to think about every possibility, but each made less and less sense. She checked if her sword was still on her back, and to her relief, it was still there.
She walked forward, down what she assumed was a street of a city, trying to reach the end of the smoke, but, with each step, screams only became more and more loud. She coughed few times after inhaling the ash, forcing her to stop for a moment, nearly puking in the process.
- Is this is your fear? – Witold suddenly asked, and Ciri raised her head.
- Witold!? – She yelled in surprise and looked around for him. – Where are you!?
- You can hear me? – His surprised voice asked her in return. – No, it is not possible. – He said before she could answer.
- Where are you!? – She run through the smoke, following the direction of his voice. As she run, the smoke started to disperse before her, and soon, she found herself on the main road…
Of Rivia.
She stopped running, too shocked to react. Rivia? Impossible, she can't be here. She looked at the burning buildings, from which columns of fire rose into the air, blocking the sky and melting the stone. But this buildings, this architectural style, she knew that it is Rivia. But she was here only once, during…
She gulped, slowly realizing what is happening. Down the road, she saw burning pyres, on which elves and dwarfs were set aflame. Although their bodies were already turned to coal, they kept screaming in agony.
Horrified, she looked under her feet and saw a river of blood flowing into the sewers, and disfigured bodies falling into sinkholes.
- Who did that? – Witold asked beside her, and when Ciri turned to him, he wasn't there. – Monsters? – His voice asked from another direction.
- Worse. – She drew her sword as she heard someone approaching from the back alley.
- Death to the abhumans! – Small group of humans with knives, spears an pitchforks arrived from behind the corner, their weapons covered in fresh blood. Their faces were monstrous - some had twisted grins instead of faces, others were turned to into grotesque hybrids of human and beast while others had faces of ghouls, demons or animals. One of them, one with the face of the felder pointed at Ciri with his bloodied axe.
- Another pest! – He charged at Ciri, eager to shed more blood today. He swinged at her, she parried, then in single move cut off his head making his body disappear in a cloud of smoke. Before she could think more about it, enraged companions of the fallen beast screeched and rushed at her.
These nightmarish versions of the townsfolk were no match for her, their pitchforks and axes were either blocked or dodged, and soon, last of them sliced in half dispersed into a smoke.
It's some kind of illusion. Ciri thought, seeing the bodies disappear. I only hope it is only happening in my head.
If those monsters were actually Percival or Kazimierz, then…
- Fuck. – She said quietly, then yelled again. – Witold!
Silence
- You need to stop this! – She yelled again, hoping that he is still hearing her. – Someone might get hurt!
- I… don't know how. – She heard his voice from the sky. – So many voices…
Before she could anything more, she heard rumbling behind her, and when she turned, her heart sunk.
Small crowd of elves and dwarfs run for their lives, while through the street abomination made of merged bodies of the townspeople crushed everything in its path, smashing both elves and dwarfs into bloody pulps, swinging its arms around, trying to reach the fleeing people. Without any better thought, Ciri started to run as well, looking from right to left for any back alley in which she could hide, but walls of fire blocked her path.
But not for monsters.
"Human" with the head of the wolf leapt at her from the fire, taking her by surprise, ducking under the fatal blow from its claws, then flying stone nearly hit her face, and then more and more beasts charged from the fires, trying to get either her, or the screaming elves.
- DEATH! – Beasts yelled in unison, tearing dwarfs apart.
- DEATH! – Blob cried after smashing elven child's head in its hands.
Ciri knew that it is not real, but the bodies in the bloodied sewers, bodies hanged upside down from the lanterns, bodies torn apart…
It was just like then. But it lacks something.
Then all the sudden, she heard behind a new sound in this cacophony of roars. An angry hisses.
- Elf! Elf! Kill an elf! – she heard and after another angry hiss, Ciri finally turned to see what is going on, she saw him.
Geralt.
He took on the entire mass of the mad crowd, slicing the monster without mercy, forcing it to back off. Beasts around him charged with their makeshift weapons, only for them to be killed as well, their bodies disappearing after each kill. At the first glance, he seemed to be able to win this.
But Ciri already knew the outcome. And maybe it is not real, maybe it already happened once, but she would never leave him.
She rushed back into the fray, some beasts charged at her head on, she only parried their attacks, not wanting to risk hurting anybody by accident, but mass of bodies soon blocked her path, and simple parries were not enough.
As she tried to fight her way through, Blue swallow landed on not burning building, observing the situation unfolding before it. Soon, the familiar shadow joined him.
- What took you so long?
- Finding the right dream is not that easy.
- Or maybe you were…
- Don't even suggest such a thing! Even mere thought that some mortal could lock me inside my own head…
- Chill Bel, of course you resisted. – Changeling chuckled. – I am sure of that.
Be'lakor scoffed at this mockery, and looked at the scene unfolding.
- Is this what she really fears?
- No, no, no, it's way more complex than that. – Changeling starred at image of Geralt fighting the blob monster. – It's just a first act, her demon is not here yet.
- And how do you know that?
- Because her heart doesn't race in fear.
- Geralt! – She yelled to the image of the witcher, who still fend of the murderous mass, his slashes pushing the abomination backwards. She tried to make her way, but the beasts wouldn't let her get pass them, pushing her back with blood in their mouths and flesh in their hands.
- ABHUMAN! ELVEN WITCH!
She ignored the mad insults, not wanting to listen to this again, more important matters at hand.
Meanwhile Geralt fend of the horde of monsters, his precise strikes massacring them, turning many into clouds of smoke, but nearly landed a hit on a hooded man holding a pitchfork, and the man fell on his knees.
- Please! – The hooded man begged. – Spare!
And Witcher spared him, blocked another strike from the blob.
- No! – Ciri yelled, and witcher reacted to her warning.
Too late.
Pitchfork pierced Geralt's abdomen, teeth of the tool going through the entire body to stick from the Witcher's back. Blood poured from the fatal wound, and soon, witcher fell on his knees.
She clenched her fists in anger, witnessing her surrogate father's death was always painful, but she knew what happened next, that she saved both Him and Yen. The Pogrom of Rivia belonged to the Past.
Then, familiar laugh startled her, and she looked again at the hooded man, who rose to his full, impressive height.
- I told you I will get him. – Hooded figure said, the voice full of sadistic satisfaction, retracting him pitchfork from the witcher's corpse, while the beasts before her moved aside.
Ciri flinched in shock. – Not you… - she muttered, but only dark chuckle answered her.
- You still remember me. Good. – Pitchfork morphed into a long blade, while the hood fell from his head. – You still owe me a dance.
She put one, two steps backwards at the sight of this fish like eyes, her heart beat increased a little bit seeing this Ghoulish like man, who tormented her and butchered her friends.
Leo Bonhart pointed his sword at her.
- Are you ready for our honeymoon, little swallow?
Ciri looked around and saw the monsters now standing in the circle around her and the Bounty hunter, like they were frozen in place, conveniently giving them space for duel, while the blob arose behind Bonhart, blocking the sun. Beastly faces directly taken from the witcher bestiary starred at her with bloodlust, similar to an audience in the arena.
- He is dead. – She reminded herself. – It's just a vision. – And the mocking laughter interrupted her thoughts.
- And yet here I am! – Bonhart laughed. – Forever at your side, until the death tear us apart!
- You were sick. – She replied with disgust, and Bonhart's face became serious for a moment.
- Face it, little swallow. – No matter where you go, how fast you run, I will always be… – He gestured at the entire burning landscape. - …Here. – After saying that, he launched at her with truly inhuman speed, and within second, he was near, slashing at her throat.
Ciri blocked the strike, went into defense and walked backwards, while Bonhart was moving like viper, striking from nearly every angle. Even as a mere memory, he was still deadly.
But she is not that girl from the village when they first met, nor the girl who killed him in Strygga castle. She was now far more experienced than that. She parried, countered at his head, but he easily pushed her strike aside, he struck at her head,, his blade passing inch from her left eye, but she dodged just in time, then attacked on her own, trying to slice his leg, but he blocked it.
Each time their blades clashed, monsters roared and cheered for the Bounty Hunter, cursing Ciri and her "kind", but she was too focused on her fight to pick up the insults. However, instead of continuing the fight, Bonhart stopped one meter away from her and gave her a mocking look.
- You don't run? – He said amused. – I remember our last date, in that accursed castle.
In an instant, floor around them started to collapse, monstrous audience falling into the void, the blob roared in fear as its fell into the darkness, trying to reach them, but it soon disappeared, while Ciri and Bonhart left standing on one, single wooden plank.
- You run from me like a puppy, little and scared. And when you met a man who wished to help you, you betrayed him in an instant. His blood is on your hands. – When he said that, blood started pouring from her gloves, her sword nearly slipped, but she tightened her grip. – You are just a pathetic coward, hiding behind those who wish to help you. First Cahir, then… – He lifted heads of all the Rats, Geralt, Yen, all of her friends and family. - …Them. – And he dropped those heads into the void.
- That's was a mistake. – She said.
- Oh really?
- You only pissed me off.
Bonhart laughed, fully enjoying the moment.
- Let's dance! – He launched at her, and their blades clashed against one another once more, sending sparks everywhere.
He jumped, cut sharp, she parried, landed confidently on her right leg, used momentum from Bonhart's strike to counterattack, he blocked, struck low, she blocked and aimed for the head, he pushed her back, forcing her to stop and regain her balance while he thrust his sword, aiming for her heart, she jumped away to save herself, feeling the blade leaving the bloody mark on her arm instead.
- Again. – Bonhart said with satisfaction. – First blood for me.
- It will be the last you will ever get. – She said after stabilizing herself on the shaking plank
- Such a bold words from a scared little bird.
While their blades clashed, Ciri tried to predict Bonhart's movement, yet each time she thought she finally got her opening, Bounty Huner always turned it over and retaliated with such brutal force, that she could do nothing but slowly retreat on the wooden plank. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed the Bonhart is always one step ahead, like he reads her mind.
Just when she blocked another strike from his blade, she looked directly into his eyes, at that hated sadistic grin, and, to her shock, when Bonhart blinked, his eyes turned to light blue, and his expression changed for a moment.
- He is not real! – Ciri heard Witold speaking using Bounty Hunter's mouth, and after short pause, sadistic grin returned. He is not real…
Ciri knew that he was not real, yet the way he spoke, the way he fought, she felt like she is not fighting a mere nightmare, but a reincarnated monster from her past.
He cut low, she parried, countered at his head, only for him to easily stop her attack, he struck again, forced her further back. As she walked backwards, carefully walking a thin bar, she once again looked at Bonhart carefully, and finally realized that she can't defeat him in a fight. And that's the point.
Avallac'h once explained to her when they had another argument over her reluctance to use magic aside from the power granted by Hean Ichnear. He told herthat mind is both the strongest asset of the intelligent races, but also can be a terrible weakness, for the same mind which is able to build cities, raise towers and force nature to its will, also amplifies deep fears and doubts. In your mind, he said, You are the strongest, but your inner demons will always be more powerful, for their purpose is to keep you the way you are now, to hold you in place. You can either repeat the cycle over and over again and be still, or…
- …Find a clever solution. – She said, just when she reached the end of the line. She stopped, and looked at her approaching fear.
- No wall to bounce from? No other plank to jump to? – Bonhart chuckled. – This is the end, little bird.
- To that, I agree.
She again attacked low, expecting the parry, and when Bonhart parried as she hoped for, she used the momentum, amplified his strike with her own strength, and Bonhart's blade sliced the bar on which she stood, just inch before Bounty Hunter's feet. Whole thing shook, throwing Bonhart out of balance while Ciri reached with her free hand and grabbed his ankle, pulled him towards her, using both gravity and her weight to throw him off the bar.
Just when he was about to fall, Ciri dropped her blade and now with free hand, grabbed the wooden bar, releasing her grip from Bounty Hunter's ankle.
- SWALLOW! – Bonhart yelled while falling into the darkness, while Ciri pulled her back up on the shaky structure. She left few heavy breaths, holding to the shaky bar.
- You defeated him! – Witold said in shock.
- Not quite. – She said, climbing back up. – The real one was far worse.
She stood again on the plank, and looked at the burning buildings on each side of the now gaping maw.
- Now what? – She asked, not wanting to deal with another Bonhart.
- Voices… They require my care… my attention… - Ciri heard, and felt like Witold's presence slowly fades away. And this time, she saw blue light slowly flying just above the plank.
- Wait! – She yelled, and before her eyes dream started to crumble, then fall apart, into the darkness. – Shit! – She started to run behind the blue light on a shaky plank while everything around her started to fall into dust and ruin. With each her step, entire mindscape fell, she could feel the cold embrace of the ash and dust, trying to grab her feet, force her to slow down, to rest, and some part of her wanted to listen to those temptations, but she pressed on, finding herself closer to the fading blue light. She didn't look back at the growing mass of black arms reaching for her from behind and below, running from them as fast as possible.
Suddenly, green door opened before the orb of blue light, and when it crossed the door, they started to close.
- No! – Desperate, Ciri leapt forward, reaching to the door, just when the plank was consumed entirely by hungry nightmares, and jumped through the open gateway. As she crossed, shadows tried to follow her, but door shut after her and disappeared.
- Where did she go!? – Be'lakor shouted in surprise
- She followed our host into different mindscape. – Changeling chuckled. – We should follow too, unless we wish to repeat her dream.
Without answering, the Daemon Prince already disappeared from now crumbling mindscape, but before Changeling joined him, he looked again at the void. Then, just for a second, he recalled a face with the fishy eyes, chuckled, and joined his companion.
'
…Bullet traveled closer and closer, flying through the air like a comet, small trail of snow whirling behind…
'
Ciri fell through the open door, landing headfirst in the snow. She rose her head, then jumped on her feet and instinctively reached to her back before realizing that her blade is not there anymore. She looked around in suspicion, but there were no monsters this time, no fire, and no immediate danger, only immense cold.
She noticed the ruined buildings, most likely destroyed after a siege, but since nothing was on fire, it means the battle was already decided. There were no humans as well, just streets full of ice statues with various shapes and sizes. She approached one of the statues, one tall and covered in snow, cleared some of the snow and frowned when she saw a face of frozen man, his eyes open wide and full of fear, his mouth moving slightly, like he tried to mutter something.
- Are those… - She thought, and the realization made her sick, for all these statues were frozen people and animals, forever trapped in those positions.
- It's just a dream. – She reminded herself. – This isn't real.
- Is this your fear? – Ciri heard Witold voice from afar, she looked down the street, from which freezing wind blowed the strongest. She run towards him, navigating through the forest of the frozen people, and she felt how air becomes colder with each step, like she went into the heart of blizzard, hissing wind lashing against her skin, but she also felt… pulse?
She looked at the ground and truly, snow rose, then fell down, and again rose up, like it breathed. She knelt and pushed some of the snow aside, and under it were a red, bloated vine, connected to one of the statues.
- They all must be connected. – She said out loud, and again looked down the street. – All leading to one place. For a moment she regretted dropping her sword in a the fight, but it didn't matter. If she reach Witold and somehow make him stop this weird spell, then all should be fine. She renewed her walk, ready to face another nightmare.
Density of the frozen "forest" grew, and finding the way between them grew difficult, but now she was sure – in the town square, surrounded by countless people, stood frozen tree, its branches twisted beyond recognition, and with crimson vines inside, connecting it with the ground. And near the frozen tree was an old man, weeping in anguish and pain. Although wind swept around him, he remained untouched by freezing kiss of winter. When she walked closer, she realized that before her is no one other but Oswald.
He was on his knees, staring at the tree with eyes full of tears, which slowly froze on his cheeks. Utterly broken, surrounded by ice statues, alone forever.
- Not again! – he cried out. – Enough! I don't want to!
- But you must. – Ciri heard another voice, belonging to the tree apparently. She followed Oswalds gaze, and nearly puked.
What she assumed was a tree was actually a combination of rotted human tissue, blackened ice and corroded weapons. In the centre his rotted head remained, pale as snow, and from his neck red vines connected with the beating heart in the center, and from the heart vines spread to the ground, and just like roots it poured mora and more blood into it.
- It is all your fault Old man. – Head said, its empty eyes staring at the Old Man with contempt. – Remember what you said that day faithful day?
- Please, no…
- You abandoned your own blood, disowned because of my "disobedience". You really thought that Motherland will ever forget that? Forgive you?
- I tried everything…
- Liar! – Tree hissed, and another wave of freezing winter blew everywhere, freezing rooftops and covering everything aside of Oswald in deep layer of snow, and Ciri avoided this blast by hiding behind one of the statues. When this outburst ended, Ciri peeked out from her cover and noticed a blue light above the scene, watching, listening.
She counted to three and left her hiding spot, moving slowly to the center square, ready to jump into cover at the mere sight of another outburst from the tree.
As she was sneaking in, on a nearby rooftop blue swallow peaked to see, it's shadow closely behind.
- Mortals their minds never stop to surprise me. – Changeling said, looking at the labyrinth made of ice and flesh. – This mind feels just like at home.
- Pathetic Mortals and their disgusting emotions. – Be'lakor spat in contempt. – Keep wasting our time.
- You were also a mortal, remember?
Be'lakor just gave his companion a death stare, then looked at Ciri, who jumped from one cover to another.
- Why didn't she use her power to end this whole ordeal?
- Maybe she don't know how? – Changeling suggested, much to Be'lakor disbelief.
- You mean Hean Ichnear, power made by them, has no knowledge how to use it?
- She is just a young girl Bel, she probably only knows the basics. – Changeling looked at her again while she got closer to Oswald and the tree. – Which is why we must ensure she is ready for her part.
Ciri peered again, and less than twenty meters from them, but she felt the growing cold, and knew that she will have less time to avoid the potential outburst.
- I never wanted that… - Oswald said, sighing heavily. – I never wanted any of that…
- And yet you caused it all, Old man. – Tree responded with bile. – Your selfishness caused my death.
- I just wanted to protect you! – Oswald shouted. – After I lost Hry…
- DON'T YOU DARE PUT MY MOTHER'S NAME IN YOUR FOUL MOUTH! – Wave of ice shards fired from the tree struck nearby statues, shattering them in an instant, each exploding into fountains of blood and flesh, while the red vines connected to them wiggled like snakes without heads. – YOU ALWAYS FIND CONVINIENT EXPLENATION BESIDE YOUR OWN NATURE! JUST ADMIT IT WAS YOUR WEAKNESS!
- I… - He muttered, while the blue orb lowered to him.
- He is close… - Boy's voice said with glimpse of hope. – …Maybe he will finally find peace.
Now or never.
- Witold! – Ciri revealed herself, hoping that Witold will finally snap out of his trance, and much to her relief, orb shifted to her, and she felt in it shock and disbelief, while tree just froze in place.
- Ciri? – He asked. – How… Are you here? Truly?
- You need to stop this spell. – She said, slowly approaching him. – I know you don't want to be here, hurting people. You are just scared.
- But monsters…
- …Will not hurt you, as long as I am around. – She reassured him, and reached him with her hand. – I promise.
Just when Witold was considering her words, tree sprouted into live again, roaring in fury.
- WITCH! – It shouted, and it's heart started to pump blood into the ground. – YOU DARE!?
With Earthshaking pulse, streams of crimson liquid reached some of the frozen statues, and disappeared inside their bodies. Moments after, their eyes glow red, their heads twisted to look at her.
- KILL THE WITCH! – Tree ordered, and frozen statues sprung from their positions, charging at her bare-handed, wanting to rip her to shreds. She ducked under one jumping at her, he passed above her, crushed on the ground and shattered into pieces, while the vine connecting it with the tree wiggled after losing the host, to die seconds after. She tried to avoid the attacking statues, but they approached from every side.
- Stop, don't hurt her! – Witold said, but monsters kept their attack, while Ciri desperately avoided being grabbed by ice monsters.
When she avoided one, second statue grabbed her left arm, and in this moment she felt ice spread from the touch. While trying to free herself, she noticed the red vine just near, and she stomped on it with all her might. Creature immediately let her go, thrown into series of spasms, while Ciri looked at her arm, which was now partially frozen. She then rose her head and saw that statues surrounded her.
- You will join those unfortunate souls, invader – Tree declared. – So you will always witness the destruction magic caused.
She clenched her fists, ready to throw hands, while monsters charged at her at the same time.
- ENOUGH! – Witold's command echoed through the square, and all statues flying at Ciri stopped in air, their reaching arms froze few inches from her. She smiled and looked at the blue orb.
- Nice job. – She said after walking between the statues. Everything froze in time. Statues, Tree, Wind, Oswald, leaving only her and Witold capable of movement.
- I… don't know how I did that. – Boy admitted. – But you should run now, before I… lose control.
- We both are getting away from here. – She said, and paid Oswald a quick glance, and felt a little pity.
He caused all of this to happen, true. If he didn't called the Orthodoxy, none of that would happen. But on the other hand she knew how it feels when people she knows and cares about die before her very eyes. Death of her grandmother casted a long shadow on her for very long time. But she still had someone dear for her, while Oswald was basically alone.
- He suffered long enough. – Just when she said that, tree twitched again. – Time to go. – She run from the town's square, blue orb following closely behind.
- Fascinating, isn't it? – Changeling said to his companion.
- His control over this is crude, yet… impressive. – Be'lakor begrudgingly admitted. – If only boy got more time on this world and proper training, he would rival in potential even mages of the Asur.
- What a shame… - Changeling chuckled, already knowing the consequences of the uncontrollable magic
- What are we going to do now? – Witold asked, floating beside Ciri.
- Can you stop this spell?
- I don't know how!
- Then we should leave this dream, I know you can do that.
- But I heard grandfather's cries first…
Behind them, ground shook, and the air was torn by enraged roar, and Ciri raised up the pace.
- You need to focus, clear your mind, then think. – She said, remembering her Teacher. She looked behind and saw all statues coming back to life. – Take your time.
- I can't… I don't know how.
Statues started to rush towards them, like the tide crashing everything on their path.
- But aunt Zuza will know! She always know what to do!
In corner of her eye Ciri noticed that behind one of the doors started to glow in green. She rushed to it and opened with one powerful pull.
- Quick! – She yelled to Witold, and blue orb flew through, while the beasts run at full speed, trying to catch her before she lives, but they were too far.
- See ya, assholes! – She gave them a middle finger and shut the door.
'
Metal bullet whizzed through the air, nearly reaching its destination…
'
Ciri sat and leant against the door out of exhaustion, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Even if this is all happening inside her mind, she felt so tired.
- You okay Ciri? – Witold asked and gave her a hand.
- Just… a minute. – She replied, and second later she blinked and rose on her feet. – Wait, are you…!? – She tried to take his hand, but her own passed through his like through smoke.
- Oh. – Witold looked at his hands, then at his body, through which he could see the floor. The only constant was the blue orb in place, where his heart should be. – How…
- Because you are in my dream, Wit. Now come here, both of you.
The first Ciri felt was the foul smell, like something in process of decay inside the house, and the second thing was rotten wood, which broke when she made a first step.
- Nevermind. – Both heard that Zuza is coming to them from the main room, but slowed before the doorframe.
- I'm sorry Wit. – She said, not showing herself. – I should have noticed your potential earlier.
- It's not your fault aunt!
- And Ciri, I told you should leave earlier, but you didn't listen.
- From what I heard and saw, nothing would change. – Ciri countered. – This asshole would still threaten Witold, no matter if I were there or not.
- I would argue about that, but we do not have much time. – Zuza stood in a doorframe, and Witold gasped while Ciri flinched, for Zuza, although looked younger, was completely rotten from inside out, and stench of death surrounded her like bloodthirsty flies. After seeing their expressions, she looked at herself and sighed. – I won't let anyone control me in my own dream. – She closed her eyes, and the rot disappeared from her body, but not from her surroundings. – That's better. - She said, opened her eyes and looked at them again. – Witold, you need to end this spell before you completely lose control. Otherwise, we will all be locked inside our heads for the rest of time.
- Ciri told me to do that, but I can't. – Witold replied, and looked at his spectral feet. – I tried.
- Then it's worse than I thought. - Zuza replied. – If your consciousness is here, then nobody controls it.
- What of kind of spell is this anyway? – Ciri asked, and looked around in Zuza's house. – I know it's not real, some kind of illusion, yet I feel tired, felt cold and heat. I only knew few Sorcerers who could done that.
- True, only those with immense potential could cast this in the first place. – Zuza confirmed. – Which makes me even more worried.
Ciri rose her eyebrow, crossed her arms and gave the village witch a questioning look. – You said we don't have time, so get straight to the point.
At first, Zuza looked offended being ordered around, but then she chuckled. – Not bad. Someone taught you well.
She took a deep breath and shook her head after seeing her room rotting around her.
- Give me a break! – She waved her hand, and corruption phased out of existence. – Okay, I don't know how, but Witold called winds of Ulgu and casted on all of us what seems to be a more potent version of the Complete Illusion.
- More potent?
- Normally, complete illusion don't lock each individual in their own, personal nightmare. – Zuza replied, staring at her hands. – Right now, each everyone caught by the spell suffers faces their worst fears, regrets nad shame.
Ciri thought again about facing Bonhart, then about the tree, and nodded in understanding.
- If each of us is locked in our own head, how I was able to get out?
- I told earlier, your magic is something different. – Zuza remarked. – Something ancient, more powerful. I suspect it helped you get out from your nightmare.
- How can I stop this Aunt? – Witold asked. – I don't want to hurt anyone…
- Normally, Spellcaster is able to stop the spell whenever he pleases, but if you can't do it, it means you are yourself under it's effect, and as the defense mechanism, your mind detached itself.
- Detached? Then how he is able to maintain the spell then?
- To put it into perspective. – Zuza reached to the shelf and grabbed a doll. – Let the head be consciousness, and the rest of the doll – subconsciousness. In ordinary circumstances, spellcaster retains full control of the spell, and may adjust it as he pleses. However, since Witold is also under it's effect, not wanting to face his inner demons, his mind separated itself. – With that said, she ripped of the head. – However, his subconsciousness still maintains the spell, and the body is continually drained, until. – She dropped the doll on the floor, then looked at them both. – Which leaves us with the only option.
- Reaching his dream? – Ciri looked at the boy, he was still ashamed.
- Correct. To reunite body and soul before it's too late.
- Sooo, can we reach my body just like we reached you aunt? – Witold asked hopefully, and Zuza shook her head in disagreement.
- I'm afraid that when you detached itself, you severed the link between your body and your soul, it won't work. But there is another way. – She grabbed the picture from nearby furniture, and threw it to Ciri. When she caught it, she noticed on it a sketch of young Kazimierz, still a teenager, holding a saber.
- In each mind there is a "key" – a link to another person. Because everyone, who is close to Witold is currently trapped here, maybe you will reach your mind from someone's else.
- Grandpa! – Witold realized with a smile.
- Is Kazimierz close to Percival or Witold? – Ciri asked while looking at the picture, still unsure if this will work.
- I don't think Kazimierz has as big connection to Wit as Percival, but he is certainly connected to the latter. Percy sometimes refers to Kaz as a "son". – Zuza smiled, but her face frowned. – One thing… - She said in pain. – Each mind has its own guardian… Which will react to you… now go! – She yelled, when floor started to shake.
Ciri showed the sketch to Witold, and he smiled.
- Uncle Kaz. – He said, staring at the sketch with curiosity. – He looks smaller… -And when he said that, door again glowed green.
- You may tell him that. – She opened the door, and gust of fresh air reached her nostrils. – Ready? – She asked and Wit eagerly crossed into another dream.
When the door shut after them, Zuza rose on her feet, and stared at the door with concern.
- I hope you will do it just in time.
- That was informative. – Changeling whispered to the Be'lakor. – Not something we didn't already know, but still interesting.
- I wonder how boy's potential could be used.
- Then we should get going and…
- You two. – Both Daemons startled and looked at the village witch, which stared at them with anger. – Don't even think about following them.
- Hey look Bel, this one is more aware than most.
- And what do you think you can do hag? Sang a lullaby? – Be'lakor laughed. – It only works for children.
- In reality, I didn't stand a chance. – She confirmed, but then her eyes lit in fire. – But unlucky for you, you are in my mind.
And with that said, both Daemons could feel how entire mindscape focus on them, gathering all willpower.
- Do we have time to play Bel? – Changeling asked, hoping that the First will say "yes".
- We have. – Shadow rose to its full height, and started to form into something more sinister while Changeling started to hysterically laugh, then began transforming as well.
- You are screwed up now! – He said in cheerful tone.
Zuza clenched her fists and stared down at the two opponents. She knows she can't beat them or keep them at bay for long, but what they don't realize is that she is just buying time.
Authors corner:
Suprise! I am not dead!
Sorry for this massive delay, let's just say I had a lot to do recently. Maybe even a ton.
But worry not, I will try to return back to normal schedule.
And of course, in response to kukuhimanpr:
That's the point. If I pull this off (And I hope I will), then this story will get even better. If not, then well, at least I tried.
Better to be ash than dust anyway.
Sigining out.