Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of the witcher. Those are property of Mr Sapkowski and I using Netflix series canon mixed with the books and my twisted version of the lore.

Warnings : physical and emotion whump. Abandonment issues. Wound. Mention of death, bodies, war.

Notes : Sorry for the long wait. I had big issues on my way. I still have but less pregnant. I had actual time and energy to reread and write. So here I am with the final chapter of the first act of this story.

There is a lot going on for Geralt in this, this is a mentally tough one for him.

[Edit] thx enriqueagustin17 for the fav :]

Destiny - Part 7

Voices

###

Geralt didn't push Roach the way he did for that poor horse he came back on, but he did force the long walking hours. The old mare was very endurant for sure. He avoided the main roads and at the same time many fights. He saw fire lightning the night sky on the horizon, probably from distant cities burning into the flames of war in the cintrian kidngdom. Beacon of the horrors happening.

He chose to go west as much as he could to follow the less populated areas leading to Brokilon. His path wasn't clearly readable and with some effort he reached his destination.

He discovered that his intuition was good : Brokilon area had been avoided by the Nilfgaardian armies. And while they could have marched directly north and invaded several smaller states before reaching Temeria, they chose to go east and pass by Sodden's hills apparently.

He felt weird reaching cintrian lands. A strange cold weather was setting the closer he was getting to the war - like an early winter. And specifically, the closer he was getting to Cintra, the cooler, till he found snow. It covered the landscape for miles around.

He entered the forest boundaries on his seventh day of riding. Everything was white there too. It was disturbingly quiet and peaceful but hints of the silent menace were there if you were observant enough. Death was everywhere. But the heart of Brokilon was still far away. He hadn't yet arrived where the Dryads could kill at sight to protect their land from men. What he was sensing was something more recent and weirdly already hidden.

He understood when he found what was left of a refugee camp in the woods.

Civilians escaping Cintra had run here with their mere possessions. But the Nilfgaardian army found them and massacred them before receding. There were some of their soldiers here and there among the rotting bodies. He found some of them with blue feathered arrows - Dryads ones - suggesting that they allowed refugees but not the armies near their territory.

But now the real danger was the Drowners that could rise from all of the corpses that one buried properly.

###

He arrived on the ninth young morning at the real frontier.

A thin fog layer was floating above everything. He found a little river running quietly between the trees. From his side the ground was cold and covered in a white sheet, progressively melting near the water, and the snow was totally absent from the other side. There, the nature was healthier and the light weird. As if the magic of the Dryads and their sacred tree was protecting their territory.

But something else got his attention. There were arrows seemingly embedded in the soil but, for those who watched closely, they could see remnants of skeletons, probably all male. The Dryads kept those bodies there on purpose. It showed the line not to cross.

Geralt jumped down Roach and looked at the other side. He was feeling something strange here. Some sort of attraction. Elrik told him he had to go here, from his dreams, but Geralt felt it was wrong, now that he was where he was led. He should have been here or he would be another time. Yet what he was looking for was probably still somewhere around. He needed to trespass the sacred ground. Maybe find the Dryads. Talk to them.

He removed his weapons and attached them on Roach side with his bags. He didn't have much left now he thought, looking at what the animal was carrying.

- "Be a good Roach and stay around please." He said, petting the mare's neck.

He didn't attach her to a tree. If he was to die, she could be free that way.

He was about to move forward to the river and beyond when he felt a surge of chaos - like a wave hitting him. His medallion vibrated. In the magical light of the morning, shadows were playing with his perception. Soon he saw a feminine figure walking gracefully between the trees in the distance. His heart was beating faster as he unconsciously recognised Yennefer. His feet moved forward, bypassing every survival instinct.

The light seemed brighter and the surrounding more surreal. The sorceress was in front of him, in that dark magical dress he saw her first, many years ago.

- "You are not real…" He muttered. She smiled. She was so beautiful.

- "You are welcome here Gwynbleidd. We know who you are and why you came."

- "You are not a Dryad." He looked at the woman he loved with a critical eye.

- "Indeed."

- "Are you the sacred tree of Brokilon ?" Yennefer's purple eyes shined slightly. "How is it possible ? Are you the one responsible for my dreams ? Are you trying to communicate with me ?" Thoughts were colliding in his mind.

- "Wood and stones are different." She replied. "One is alive, the other death. But both are gates. Different kind of gates."

- "You mean stone as… the monoliths ?"

- "We are beacons of a distant past. We were there before."

- "Before what ?"

- "Before gnomes and dwarves. Trees like us are eons old and very few. Dreams are your own, Gwynbleidd, but our words can reach you."

Geralt suddenly remembered Villentretenmerth. Was it the same kind of magic or language power ? Was it shared between specific creatures ?

- "Wood is alive ? Stone is dead ?"Geralt repeated questioningly to have more information.

- "Stone is not alive but what is whispering behind is. Behind the gate. We both see beyond the boundaries of time and space where every life line collides. Destiny is not the goal, just the pull. Everything can change from choices made."

- "Are you trying to tell me that I was misled ? That I followed evil voices from beyond ? How could I have known ?"

- "You chose your path not your side, Gwynbleidd."

- "There is no side."

- "There are many. You bring with you already all those you know so far. The sun from the south marching on the world. Human kingdoms. Elves. Monsters. Your family. Your friends… Your lover..." This last bit was hard to hear in Yennefer's mouth, even knowing it wasn't her. "Which one is yours ?"

- "None. I am just a witcher. I don't like being part of others' plans and wishes." He replied.

- "But you don't mind bending other's will to yours."

- "I didn't…"

- "You chose for them like others did for you."

- "I didn't… They… They are better without me anyway."

The sorceress had a sad expression. She morphed into Jaskier - the version he knew before they separated. Geralt's heart skipped a beat.

- "Is this easier that way ?"

- "No… I didn't choose either. Why am I the only one paying the price for everything ?"

- "Do you believe that ?"

That false Jaskier seemed shocked.

- "I never had the choice. And every little thing I decide seems wrong now."

- "There are consequences to any choice, even those you believe are neutral." He said. "Always."

Geralt didn't like the tone, nor the silent accusation.

- "I didn't even choose to be a witcher. I am not so sure I really decided to come here."

- "Why are you there then ?"

- "I just feel like there is no other choice. Please, let me do what I must. I am tired. I am not fighting Destiny or whatever it is anymore. I am here for the girl. I believe she is with you. Or at least the visions I had suggested that, wherever they came from you or the other things."

- "You are too late Gwynbleidd. The druid Mousesack came to bring her back to her family."

The illusion broke. Jaskier disappeared and a Dryad was standing in his place. She had dark skin and her hair was vegetal. He remembered her from the dream of the sacred tree. Geralt looked around, several Dryads were emerging from the shadows and observing him critically. Now this was real. He could feel the tension in their body language.

- "If my visions were correct, Mousesack is dead." He said. "The man you saw was a Doppler. For how long did she go ?" The Dryad seemed sorry and worried. "That Doppler was very good at hiding its nature. This is not your fault. Maybe it's mine like everything else as it seems."

- "They have been gone for three days already, Gwynbleidd, but I don't think the girl is dead. You must hurry. War is closing the path around her and you."

- "Which way ?" He asked.

- "East." The Dryad said and closed her eyes for a moment. "She is calling for you, inside." She continued.

He wasn't comfortable with all that mysticism but he couldn't deny that things were happening. He was about to take his leave but a question was still floating in his mind. He needed to anchor all this in reality.

- "Were you there all along ?"

His voice was low. All these hallucinatory experiences were beginning to drive him mad.

- "Yes. But you didn't speak to me. This was real. We saw and heard."

- "I see…"

- "Dryads are not your enemy."

- "Yet I am a man."

The woman smiled.

- "Are you ? Gwynbleidd…"

He had many more questions he wished he had the time to ask, but he didn't. He turned round and got to Roach who was waiting patiently where he left her. He mounted her and went East with nothing more than that vague direction and that strange pull he was feeling inside.

The girl was three days away but on foot. There was still a small chance he could find her.

###

He had pushed a little bit more his brave Roach this time. Two days passed and he was now just at one day's reach to Sodden by horse. The pull was stronger than ever but also he felt like something terrible was happening not far from him. It was like the forest was simply hiding the reality to his eyes. He wasn't on the Dryads territory anymore and he doubted the sacred tree's influence was reaching him that far. But that night he didn't sleep well. A very vivid dream tormented him.

He recognised the fort. This was Sodden hill. Mages and sorceresses were preparing some material there. He couldn't hear people speaking but he understood what was going on.

The wolf he was as always was trotting between the members of the Brotherwood and Aretuza. He recognised some of them. The very strict Tissaia to the soft Triss and… Yennefer. She was there too. His heart began to beat faster. She was fierce and majestic in her dark dress. She was commanding, coordinating. He could see through her eyes sometimes. He saw sorceresses using all their powers killing Nilfgaardians in mass. But always more were coming, in their blinded drug induced rage.

And he saw the machines, eating prisoners to blast magic at the fort. But the mages and sorceresses were holding the ground against it.

He woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, his heart beating fast. Was it real ? He had to go and see. He wished he was wrong. He wished it was just a nightmare induced by the war all around.

Roach was half asleep near a tree. He patted her awake softly and walked by her side. He didn't want to go fast. He just needed to move.

###

He guided her through the woods. The mare was walking on automatics and almost walking asleep. But then Geralt heard a noise. Someone was grunting. He took one sword - the steel one - and moved away from his mount. A few meters away, he saw a silhouette. Someone was digging the ground with a shovel.

He saw bodies and an old pick-up a little further. Geralt observed the scene a bit more. The digger went from the bodies, taking things from their pockets to his vehicle to which the platform seem full of various packages. The witcher felt a cold rage grow in his guts. He simply moved forward, hoping that his presence would be enough to make him stop.

The man froze when he saw him. He was terrified.

- "Please don't hurt me, warrior. I am just a poor farmer." He begged. But Geralt was angry and he growled a warning.

- "Don't hide your perversion, old man. You are looting people. What did you find ? Jewels ? gold ?"

- "I swear I am not. Please. I am just trying to help."

- "Help ?"

- "Those bodies have been here for too long… I am trying to protect my family and my village. They will turn if nothing is done. I took belongings that are family evidence to pray for them and help their souls to reach those still alive or those beyond."

- "You are burying them ?"

All anger vanished instantly and Geralt felt ashamed from his own desire to kill this man for a crime he didn't commit.

- "Please, let me prove it to you."

He agreed to look at what the man had taken. Those were photos, id cards, toys… and he looked at the holes in the ground. He wanted to cry. This old man was poor. His outfit was a patchwork of old fabrics and the pick-up was an antiquity all rusty and barely holding together, and yet he was doing the most human thing in a very bad context. This was certainly not enough to stop the dead from turning into Drowners, but this could really help the villagers if that was far enough from any living people.

- "How long have those bodies been here in the open ?" He asked finally.

- "These are corpses left behind by Nilfgaard and their machines from the south villages, I have been told. People are afraid of epidemics and curses. They put them as far as they could from what's left or their villages. But they are moving them too close to my village. They have been discarded in the forest of Brokilon a bit everywhere. These were dropped yesterday in the wood near my house. I had to move them here, where I buried the others."

The sky cleared and the moon lighted the landscape better. Geralt saw that the whole ground around had been dug.

- "How many have you buried here since the war began ?" He asked.

- "I don't know. Around thirty maybe more. This is a painful task. I don't keep the count. Why ?"

Geralt felt the danger just a second before it struck.

- "Get in your car !" He screamed.

The next blink something rushed. He cut the Drowners head in one swift movement before he got them. This one was probably roaming free from his grave for quite some time, but the commotion woke the rest of them. The ground moved and the dead rose. Blood and adrenaline pumping in his veins, Geralt fought them with all he had. His sword wasn't enough to put them to rest forever but without their limbs they were less dangerous. The number was a problem though. He had to be at his best every second.

He covered the escape of the old man in his pick-up. Bodies were piling on his trail. There were more than thirty, he was sure of that. He was already tired and his best skills were almost not enough.

Suddenly he felt a huge pain in his legs. One of the undead had found his way in a group of others to reach him and bite him profoundly. Geralt's blood ran cold. A Drowners' bite was fatal for any humain and, without Golden Oriole, even for a witcher. He killed all of the remaining corpses but he knew there would be a next wave if they'd stay here too long. The whole area would need to be pacified by several witchers before humans could get in those woods again.

He tried to go to Roach but the poison was gaining over him quite fast. He was already losing his senses. His legs gave up and he fell in the mud like a rock. He didn't fight this. While he was looking at the dark sky and feeling death coming for him, he thought that this moment was the most stupid and unnecessary of his live. Dying, bitten by a Drowner in an improvised cemetery, to protect an old fool's life who would probably die of illness or from the war this winter. Why was he here ? Was that what Destiny had in store for him ? Dying in a pit of mud surrounded by dead bodies waiting to come back to life soon. Even dismembered, some will drag themselves to him to eat him. He hoped he would die before...

###

Time went by but the pain was getting worse and he was gone yet. He was surprised though to see coming back for him the old man and his crappy car.

- "Why did you come back ?" He grunted.

- "You are a good man." Geralt wasn't sure of that but he didn't say anything. "You don't deserve to die like that. I know you are a witcher. I heard you lot can survive poisons. Maybe I can save you too."

Geralt had tears in his eyes. He nodded.

- "My horse. Potions. Give me." He growled at the man. "And we need to go fast…"

The man helped him to get on his feet and it took him a lot to push him in the back of his pick-up. He reappeared in his vision cone like an eternity later to him. Geralt was feeling sicker and sicker. The poison was burning in his veins. His heart was aching to each beat now. It was beginning to be hard to breathe. With numb fingers and blurry vision, he found in his belongings the vials and drank two of his Golden Oriole potions back to back. This was risky but if that didn't work, he was dead anyway. He knew he would not turn, even he if died but this was gonna be hell...

The man took the wheel and drove him away from the forest.

###

The pain reached an unbearable level and he lost consciousness or he thought he had. He barely registered what was happening around, only the sound of the vehicle's engine and the rocking movement as it moved slowly… Until he heard a familiar voice.

He felt a hand sliding in his. He made the effort to turn his head to look at who was holding his hand. He saw Jaskier lying next to him. In his blurry vision all he could see was his soft big grey eyes and his smile, and for a moment Geralt felt good.

He was back in the happy days, when he hunted and Jaskier was taking care of his crashing body during the potion metabolisations. He was back on the nights sleeping on Roach's platform, looking at the stars. He was back when he didn't know that he was the most happy he'd ever been. And he cried looking at his friend, knowing what he wasn't really there... Knowing that he was probably still dying in slow motion, too far away from his light, and realising that the only place he would have died in peace would have been next to him.

- "I love you, shit head." He whispered to his ghost and cried even more seeing him smile going wider. "I need you, buddy… I am…"

His sorry died in his throat while his airways collapsed and his vision tunnelled.

And then everything went mad. He was the wolf again and he was back at Sodden. He saw so many deaths. He witnessed so much evil magic from the Nilfgaardian' sorceresses. But the defenses were still holding. Until a sneaky attack blew all at once and for a moment he was lost.

The silence was deafening as in the ruins of the fort, bathing in flames, were laying all those mages, crushed by rocks, twisted in their falls, mutilated by the irons of their own weapons, burnt by their own powder exploded at their face. And then, there was a clamour. Nilfgaard's army rushed over the hill like a dark wave...

He saw some surviving mages and sorceresses getting on their feet, wobbling and facing death with a strange detachment. And then he saw her… the woman he loved, standing in the flames, bloodied and exhausted. He saw that look he knew too well on her. The pain, the sadness she hid, the rage burning inside. She seemed to absorb all the flames around her and then he screamed like she never did before, letting out everything she kept in locked. She was pure agony and fury. And she released on the army underneath an ocean of flames.

###

He was crying when he opened his eyes again. Was it real ? This couldn't be ? He hoped it wasn't.

He was strangely not in pain anymore but he was weak as a newborn. He tried to move and he barely did. He was still lying on the old pick-up platform between the packages and there was someone near him. Again the familiar voice of Jaskier was filling the air.

- "Buddy, is that you ? Are you really here ?" He whispered.

The singer was sitting on a bag and looked down at him.

- "Do you wish for that ?"

- "You're in danger. I saw that in your future. You should not be here." Geralt knew he wasn't very coherent but speaking was hard and he wanted to share everything to justify the unjustifiable, even if that man wasn't real. "You are better away from me."

- "Do you wish for that ?" He repeated with a sadder tone.

- "Yes… but do you understand ?"

Jaskier morphed into Essi.

- "I don't. Not yet ?" She replied.

- "Tell him that's for his own good. I would have destroyed him."

- "You know what you said. You know what you did. Don't you ?"

- "I didn't… I wanted... I don't know. He is better now. He has to be... Please. He has to understand."

- "As much as you have to understand me."

The blond woman morphed into a redhead one. This was a face he barely recognised on the spot. This was coming from a very distant past. But when he did remember who she was, his heart broke.

- "Mummy ?" He sobbed.

She leaned over him and touched his leg. It was bandaged.

- "The poison is leaving your body. You are one strong boy." She leaned backward and searched for something in her pocket. She showed him some berries and leaves. "This will help you to regain your strength. Find them on the road."

- "Are you there ? Are you real ? Jaskier and Essi weren't I understand now but am I hallucinating you too ?"

She smiled but didn't answer. Then she began to hum.

- "Mummy please, tell me. I need to know. Why didn't you leave me ?"

- "I just knew I had to."

- "Did you love me ?"

- "Of course I did."

- "Then why did you do it anyway ? I would have grown strong for you. I would have been a good boy." His voice was still barely over a whisper. He was breaking in every way possible.

- "I know. But here you are. You have grown strong and I am proud of you. You still have so much to do."

- "You believed in Destiny ? You did it because of that ?"

- "Yes."

- "But did you know how much I would suffered… Witchers are made in torturous ways. I could have died in the trial of the grasses. I went through all the hardest mutations. I am not human… They made me a monster… And you are proud ?"

- "You had to become that."

- "Did you know I would survive this ?"

- "No."

Geralt cried again. This was so hard to hear. How much he endured because of one belief. Too hard to hear that he couldn't be loved the way he should have been because of that belief. He knew love now. She claimed she loved him. This couldn't be true. This wasn't love. He couldn't forgive.

- "Rest my son. You will need all your strength for what is to come."

She began to hum again and he began to feel very tired.

- "No, I don't want to sleep. I want to… speak to you… I need answers... I need to…"

He couldn't fight it. His mother morphed back in Essi. Her soft eyes were sad. She morphed back into Jaskier. He was humming her mother' song and he looked away.

Geralt tried to move again. He wanted to touch the person next to him. He needed to be sure that at least his mother was real. He understood why his brain was showing him Jaskier now. The burning metaphor was digging a hole in his heart. This was all about his mother and the love for one's child he never had and the story of a man turned into a monster in the process, as much as his friend life was mirroring his in very sad ways. But he couldn't reach his ghost and he lost consciousness again.

###

He woke up again in the cold morning. It was snowing slightly. He was still on the pick-up's platform. The old man was sleeping next to him. He sat up, awakening him.

- "You're back with us witcher." Said the man with a tired voice. "This is a miracle."

Roach was there. Attached to the frame of the vehicle. The man had probably driven them very slowly out of the danger zone.

Geralt was feeling very sore in and out, but he felt the pull again. He had to get back on his feet and move forward. He looked at his leg. The wound had been dressed properly. He could feel his body regenerating. So part of the experience he had was real. Was his mother really with him though ?

He grunted while pushing himself down the car and then looked around.

- "Was there a woman with us yesterday ?" He asked.

- "I don't know."

- "Who dressed my leg ?"

- "You probably. I don't know."

The man was confused. He had visibly lost some memories.

- "You can go. Just leave my horse here please. And take care of yourself."

- "Are you sure you don't need help ?"

- "Not anymore. Thanks."

The man nodded and removed the attach from the mare. The old pick-up went away on an undistinguished road. Geralt petted Roach.

- "Just wait for me." The mare let a soft but deep neigh out.

He moved forward slowly, as his leg was still very damaged, and he entered a misty part of the forest. It was silent. Soon, the fog receded and he saw her in the distance. The pull was stronger than ever.

A girl was coming his way. Cirilla of Cintra was staring back at him. The disbelief on her face was speaking volume.

They moved forward at the same time. He was limping strongly but trying to close the distance the faster he could. She ran. They collided in a strong embrace mid way. She was shivering and she burst into a heavy sob in his arms.

- "You are him, right ? You are Geralt ? You are my destiny?" She said.

Geralt hugged her strongly. And he knew from that moment he should absolutely be by her side. His own mother had abandoned her own child to Destiny for this. He refused her, fighting against it for years, and the result had been devastating. He swore to himself to grow better and to protect that child from everything. He couldn't let himself be the man his mother had been to him to that girl who probably had seen too much already. He would try his best to not let her became any monster if he could, and he would let her chose her way.

- "Yes. I guess I am, as much as you are. I am here for you now, Ciri." He said, containing his emotions.

This was so strange that they knew each other while still being total strangers. After a while they separated and she looked up at him - her eyes slightly red from the crying.

- "Who is Yennefer ?" She asked.

Geralt's blood ran cold.

This is the end of S1. This is the end of Act 1.

I will need some time to write the next part which will be the Nivellen story and the arrival to Kaer Morhen, so I guess it will be somewhere by the end of January.

Till then I wish to you good festivities :).

See you soon.