The road to Vizima through the heart of Temeria was surprisingly a gentle road, flanked by tall oaks and stretches of open green. It was a different world from the cold far north of Kaer Morhen, it was softer, almost deceivingly peaceful.
Geralt rode at an easy pace, his posture loose in the saddle, though nothing about him was ever truly relaxed. Ciri matched him stride for stride, her mare's hooves falling into rhythm beside his own, the two of them moving like they had done this a hundred times before.
Which they had.
Ciri spoke first.
"That thing back there… the fleder." she said, glancing over her shoulder as if the memory of it still lingered on the road behind them. "That was supposed to be one of the strongest vampires, right?"
Geralt didn't look at her.
"It was, yes."
She frowned slightly.
"…Felt underwhelming."
There was the faintest shift at the corner of Geralt's mouth.
"They usually are," he said. "If you know what you're doing."
Ciri huffed a quiet laugh, rolling her shoulders as if still shaking off the remnants of the fight.
"You didn't even let it get close," she said. "One clean opening and it was done."
Geralt adjusted the reins, his voice calm.
"You created that opening."
That made her glance at him.
"Really? Is that praise I hear?"
"You kept its attention," he said. "You didn't panic and didn't overextend, you surprised me."
He finally turned his head slightly, eyes settling on her for a brief moment.
"That's why it was so easy for us."
Ciri blinked, caught off guard, not by the words themselves, but by how simply he said them.
"…Huh, wow I could get used to this."
A small smile tugged at her lips as she looked ahead again, satisfaction written all over her face.
"But I've had good practice, and good teachers." she admitted.
Geralt gave a low hum of agreement.
"Yeah," he said. "You have."
The wind picked up slightly, brushing through her ashen hair, tugging loose strands free from the braid that half-held it together. Sunlight caught in it, silver and pale gold, flickering with each step her horse took.
Geralt watched her for a second longer than necessary.
Then,
"You and Seb," he said, and it wasn't abrupt, or even intrusive.
Ciri stiffened almost imperceptibly.
Geralt continued, his gaze returning to the road.
"All those years, pushing each other," he said. "Training, sparring… competing over everything, sometimes for no reason, and no reward."
Ciri let out a quiet breath, her fingers tightening slightly around the reins.
"…He started most of it," she muttered.
Geralt's lips twitched.
"I'm not sure that's true..."
Ciri smiled.
"But all of that made you better," he added. "Both of you."
Ciri's expression softened.
"I guess so, yeah it did." she said quieter now.
The rhythm of their ride continued, steady and grounded.
Then Geralt spoke again.
"And I see that you're more than just close friends now."
It wasn't framed as a question.
Ciri's breath caught for half a second before she forced it steady again.
"…Yeah," she said.
The word lingered between them.
Geralt didn't react immediately. He let it sit without pressing further. When he did speak again, his voice had shifted, lower and more reflective.
"So many years ago, when Vesemir brought Seb to Kaer Morhen…" he said, almost as if speaking to himself.
Ciri turned her head slightly, listening.
"He was too young for what he'd already been through, and what he had to go through in Kaer Morhen." Geralt continued. "But that wasn't what stood out."
He paused, remembering.
"It was the way he talked," he said. "The way he held a sword, not in a clumsy way, not hesitant."
His eyes narrowed faintly.
"He was too perfect."
Ciri's lips parted slightly.
"Like he was truly destined to be a Witcher," Geralt added. "To be one of us."
She watched him now, fully.
"And the things he knew," he went on. "About the world, even things we don't bother teaching until much later."
Geralt exhaled quietly.
"We noticed it all."
Ciri's brows knit.
"And you never said anything about it to him."
Geralt shrugged slightly.
"We didn't need to, there was really no reason to."
He glanced at her then, just briefly.
"Because for all that… none of it mattered as much as who he was."
There was no hesitation in his voice now.
"He was a good kid with a great heart, and now he is a great man and a skillful Witcher."
Ciri looked away quickly, but not before the faint smile touched her lips again, smaller this time, more personal.
"I know that," she said.
A pause followed, longer than the ones before, filled with understanding between them.
"…I wonder how he's doing," she added after a moment, softer now.
Geralt looked ahead.
"He should be on his own by now," he said. "Vesemir would've left him."
Ciri nodded, though her gaze had drifted somewhere far beyond the road.
"He'll be fine," Geralt continued. "First year on the Path's never easy. It's unpredictable and messy, it was the same for us as well, we didn't know where to go and what to expect from the world, some of us didn't think we would made it back to Kaer Morhen during the winter."
Almost a humorless breath left him.
"But we all made it through."
He glanced at her again.
"He will too."
Ciri swallowed slightly, then nodded.
"…It's only been three weeks," she said, almost surprised by it herself. "Feels longer."
Her grip tightened on the reins.
"I already miss him."
And then, quieter,
"…All of them."
Geralt didn't respond right away.
When he did, his voice was steady.
"Focus on what's ahead. We'll see them again."
Ciri nodded slowly, and the road stretched forward, sunlit and deceptively calm.
And then,
Suddenly, A violent surge of magic tore through the forest to their right, a flash of blinding light erupting between the trees. The sound came a moment later, a deafening crack that seemed to split the sky open.
Their horses screamed.
Ciri's mare reared violently, nearly throwing her as she fought to keep her balance.
"Hey! Easy Kelpie!" she snapped, pulling hard on the reins as the animal twisted beneath her.
Geralt's own horse bucked, muscles tensing as it tried to bolt.
He yanked it back, voice sharp and commanding, using Axii to calm it.
"Stand!"
The air was still heavy with residual magic.
Leaves trembled.
Branches swayed as if something had passed through them at impossible speed.
Ciri's breathing quickened as she steadied her horse, her eyes snapping toward the forest.
"What the hell was that?!"
Geralt had already turned in his saddle, his posture shifting completely, no longer relaxed, he was focused now with a dangerous look on his face.
His eyes locked onto the treeline, unblinking.
"…Someone's there," he said.
Ciri's gaze stayed fixed on the forest, her grip tightening around the reins as her mare shifted uneasily beneath her.
"Someone?!" she said, breath still uneven from the sudden jolt. "What kind of someone does that? A mage? Or… maybe a monster?"
Geralt didn't answer right away, his eyes scanned the treeline slowly, no trace left of the quiet ride they'd shared moments ago. Now there was only the witcher: still, alert.
"I don't know," he said at last.
That alone was enough to tighten something in Ciri's chest.
Geralt rarely didn't know.
His jaw set slightly. "But I've got a bad feeling," he added. "And when I get those, I don't go looking for answers."
He nudged his horse forward, not turning his back entirely to the forest, but choosing the road.
"We keep moving."
Ciri hesitated.
Her eyes lingered on the trees, on the place where the light had torn through. Every instinct in her, every lesson, every fight told her to investigate, to confront.
But Geralt's tone wasn't casual and left no room for discussion.
So she exhaled softly and followed.
"Fine," she muttered. "But if something comes out of there.."
"We will not wait here to find out." Geralt cut in.
Their pace quickened.
Hooves struck harder now, faster, the road stretching ahead as they put distance between themselves and whatever had caused that disturbance.
For a moment, it almost felt like the right call.
Then the air shifted again.
Geralt felt it before he saw it.
"Down!" he barked.
Both of them threw themselves sideways just as something tore through the space they had occupied a moment before, a violent streak of magic that slammed into the ground ahead with explosive force.
The earth erupted. Dirt and splintered roots blasted outward, the shockwave ripping through the road and sending both horses into a panicked frenzy.
Ciri hit the ground hard, rolling instinctively, breath knocked from her lungs as gravel scraped against her arms.
Geralt landed heavier, already pushing himself up even as dust and debris rained around them.
The horses bolted, gone in seconds.
Silence followed.
Ciri rose quickly, drawing her sword in one smooth motion, chest still rising and falling from the impact. Her eyes darted toward the forest, sharp and searching.
"Fuck!" she snapped, anger cutting through the tension. "Show yourself!"
Her voice carried, echoing faintly between the trees.
Nothing answered, Geralt stood beside her now, his hand rested near his sword, not yet drawn, his golden eyes scanning everything, the trees, the ground.
"Calm your mind," he said quietly.
Ciri shot him a look.
"Calm? Did you not just see.."
"Ciri, breathe, and calm your senses."
She forced herself to even though the edge in her stance didn't vanish.
Geralt's gaze remained fixed ahead.
"Pay attention to everything," he said. "Not just what you see."
The wind shifted slightly.
Leaves rustled.
Somewhere distant, a branch creaked.
"Whoever this is," Geralt continued, "they're not an ordinary person."
Ciri's grip on her sword tightened and her eyes narrowed looking everywhere around her.
"…You think they were aiming to kill us?"
Geralt didn't answer immediately, his hand slowly moved to the hilt of his blade.
"I don't know," he said after a moment. "They were testing us, otherwise they would have fired again.. this is no bandit ambush.."
/-\
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