Chapter 2: Paths Converge

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The forest felt alive around them, its branches clawing at the night sky like bony fingers. The moonlight pierced through the canopy, casting ghostly shadows on the path as two children ran, their breaths ragged and their hearts pounding. Harry's hand gripped Ciri's tightly, and she stumbled beside him, her sobs the only sound echoing through the woodland.

"It's okay, Ciri," Harry whispered, his voice trembling but trying to sound brave. "We'll get the bad guys. I promise."

Ciri's tear-streaked face twisted with anger as she wiped at her eyes. "We'll make them pay," she spat, her gaze fierce even as it was aimless. Her green eyes, usually bright with curiosity, were now dark with the shadow of loss.

Harry pulled her closer, his small arm wrapping around her shoulders as they moved. The forest was vast and unfamiliar, and the noises of the night—rustling leaves, distant howls—seemed to grow louder with every step. His own fear bubbled up, but he pushed it down. He had to be strong for her.

"We'll get through this, together," he said, his voice firmer now.

But just as they pushed through another thicket, a figure burst through the trees, moving like a shadow given form. Both children froze, and Ciri gasped, clutching Harry's arm.

The man who emerged was tall and imposing, with silver-white hair cascading down to his shoulders. His eyes—pale and cat-like—locked onto them, assessing. He wore dark armor, leather and steel, the kind of garb that told stories of long battles and countless hunts. For a moment, he seemed like one of the monsters Harry had read about in stories.

Harry instinctively placed himself between Ciri and the stranger, his small frame trembling but resolute. He raised his stolen dagger, the blade glinting weakly in the moonlight. "Stay back!" he shouted, trying to make his voice sound fierce. "If you try to hurt her, I'll make you hurt too!"

The man's lips twitched, and for a heartbeat, Harry thought he saw a glimmer of amusement in those strange eyes. "Hurt me, will you?" the man replied, his voice low and gravelly. "That's brave."

He turned his attention to Ciri, and his gaze softened slightly. "Is your mother Pavetta?" he asked, his tone gentler than before. "And your father, Duny?"

Ciri's eyes widened. She clutched Harry's sleeve, her breath catching in her throat. "How do you know that?" she whispered, her voice a mix of fear and hope.

The man took a step closer, and Harry's grip on the dagger tightened. "Who are you?" Ciri demanded, her eyes locked onto him.

"I'm Geralt of Rivia," the man replied. "I know your family, and I know you. When I saved your father's life, I claimed the Law of Surprise. You were destined to cross my path."

Harry scoffed, his skepticism clear as he tried to make himself look as big and imposing as possible—a gesture that, despite his determination, seemed almost comical to the Witcher. "Nice story, old man, but we don't really believe you," Harry said sarcastically. "If you want to get to Ciri, you'll have to go through me!"

Ciri, catching on, added, "That's how things work in this world." Her voice had a defiant edge, though she stood close behind Harry, feeling the weight of the moment.

Geralt's eyes flicked between them, studying Harry with a curious expression. "You're not from here, are you?" he asked, his tone probing.

Both children froze, their eyes darting to each other. Panic flashed across their faces as they blurted out at the same time, "It was our wish!"

Geralt frowned. "Wish?" he repeated, visibly confused. "What do you mean by that?"

Ciri and Harry exchanged a glance before they began recounting the events of the day, stumbling over each other's words as they explained. Ciri's voice rose with excitement when she got to the part about Harry's "magic powers."

"He blasted the bad guy!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining. "I saw it—he just pushed his hands forward, and there was this magic! It saved us."

Geralt's eyes snapped to Harry, his expression hardening with shock. "Magic? You serious, kid?"

Harry, his face growing serious, interrupted before Ciri could answer. "I don't know if it was magic," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I just… I was scared, and I didn't want the bad guy to hurt us. So, I made him hurt instead."

There was a silence as Geralt processed the boy's words. His expression darkened as he studied Harry's face, concern etched into his features. The casual brutality in Harry's tone was not lost on him.

After a moment, Geralt spoke. "Look, if you want, you can come with me. I know a place—a keep called Kaer Morhen. You'll be safe there, and you can train."

Ciri's face lit up, excitement and relief washing over her. "Yes! I want to go!" she exclaimed, her earlier fear momentarily forgotten.

But Harry, ever cautious, frowned. "How do we know you aren't trying to trick us?" he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Geralt shrugged. "You don't. But you can either come with me and get out of this forest, or stay here all night." His tone was blunt, practical.

Harry hesitated, glancing at Ciri, who looked at him with pleading eyes. With a sigh, he nodded, though he didn't lower his guard. "Alright… but I've got my eye on you."

Geralt's lips twitched again, that hint of amusement returning. "Fair enough, little knight."

The journey through the woods was long, and the forest seemed to stretch endlessly around them. Geralt led the way, his keen senses alert for any signs of danger. Ciri and Harry followed closely, the occasional rustle of leaves and distant animal calls making them jump.

As they traveled, Geralt's presence, though initially intimidating, began to feel comforting. He moved with the confidence of someone who knew the forest intimately, and there was a steadiness about him that felt reassuring. Harry, still wary, kept his eyes on Geralt, clutching his dagger like a lifeline.

They camped for the night in a small clearing. Geralt built a fire, its warm glow chasing away the chill. Ciri, who had been silent for a while, finally started to relax. She nudged Harry, a playful grin on her face. "Bet I can jump higher than you," she challenged.

Harry's eyes brightened. "Oh yeah? Let's see!"

The two children laughed and played, leaping over logs and darting between trees as Geralt watched, his expression softening. Despite the horrors they'd faced, he was glad to see their spirits hadn't been completely crushed. They were just children, after all—children who had been thrust into a world that was far too cruel.

As the fire crackled and the night deepened, Harry and Ciri eventually tired themselves out, collapsing beside Geralt. He handed them each a blanket, and they huddled close to the warmth of the flames. Ciri's eyes drooped, but before she fell asleep, she looked up at Geralt.

"Will you really train us?" she asked, her voice small.

Geralt nodded. "I'll train you, Ciri. I promised your father, and I keep my promises." He paused, glancing at Harry. "And if you've got magic, I'll find someone who can help you learn how to use it."

Harry's eyes lit up, hope flickering there for the first time. "Like… a sorcerer?"

Geralt smirked. "Something like that. But you'll also train with me. A sword might come in handy when magic isn't enough."

Ciri grinned, her excitement infectious. "I'm going to be the best warrior ever!"

Harry's eyes sparkled with the same excitement. "And I'll be a fierce mage. We'll be unstoppable."

Geralt chuckled, the warmth of the moment softening his normally stoic expression. "We'll see about that."

As they continued their journey the next day, Geralt remained vigilant, watching the children's dynamic. Ciri's eagerness and natural agility reminded him of his own training, and he saw the fire in her that would make her a formidable fighter. Harry, meanwhile, was careful and observant, his suspicion of Geralt never fully fading. It was clear the boy was used to taking on the world alone, and it saddened Geralt to see that wariness in one so young.

When they reached the base of the mountains, the children gazed up at the towering peaks. Geralt pointed to a path winding upward. "Kaer Morhen is up there, beyond those mountains."

Harry and Ciri exchanged excited glances. "We're going to be Witchers!" Ciri exclaimed.

Geralt's expression grew thoughtful. "We'll train, but Witchers… that's a different path." He looked at Harry, his eyes serious. "If you've got magic, I'll call on someone who knows what to do with it."

"Who?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Her name's Yennefer," Geralt replied. "She's… skilled in magic. If anyone can help you, it's her."

The children's excitement grew, Ciri practically bouncing on her toes. "I can't wait!"

As they approached the gates of Kaer Morhen, Geralt felt a sense of purpose settle within him. These two were more than just children in need—they were fated, bound to him in ways even he didn't fully understand. And he was determined to guide them, protect them, and give them the chance to become whatever they wished to be.

With Kaer Morhen looming ahead, the promise of new beginnings stretched out before them.

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Hello everyone, new chapter out and i hope you'll enjoy! Thanks for the support and as always Hod bless you.