The Divine Hunter

Chapter 516: The Plan for Ciri

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

“Unbelievable. For a hundred years, the witcher schools have been in constant decline, yet now you band together for a young man. Seventeen witchers, two sorcerers, and a member of the Skellige Isles’ circle of druids. This is a formidable force. One that is to be reckoned with, and you are still getting stronger with the influx of new witchers.” Yennefer was impressed by the story Geralt told her. “Roy is a visionary. His eye for the future is something you fossils will never learn. So where is he?”

Ciri looked at Geralt too. Ever since she left Goldencheeks’ home, she hadn’t seen Roy, and she missed him. Only when he was around could she ride on Gryphon without any worries.

“Roy has a lot to do,” Auckes answered before Geralt could, holding his shoulder down. He didn’t want Geralt to tell everything to this stranger just because she was his lover. The fewer people who knew about the grandmasters, the better. “His presence here would put us at risk. And please do not talk about his name when you’re out and about.”

“I promise. But when the time is right…” Yennefer shook her head. What a shame. She was curious about the brotherhood, but she was new here, so she should stop before she went too far. “Now let’s get back to business.”

Yennefer patted Ciri’s head and snapped her fingers. The witchers’ medallions buzzed, and a gust of wind closed the curtains, keeping prying eyes from seeing in and making sure no sound went out.

Roy frowned, and the griffin that was hiding under the windowsill charged into the conference hall. Once it squeezed into the room, the beast swiped its tail and shut the wooden door.

It then raised its furry head at the sorceress, the look in its eyes saying, ‘Alright, you have your peace and quiet now. Continue.’

“Gryphon! Here, let me hug you!” Ciri happily leapt onto the griffin’s back and nuzzled herself against its mane. She narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Ignore them.” Geralt massaged his temples. “Continue.”

“How did you find Ciri, Geralt? Rumors have it that the princess of Cintra has died during her escape from her fallen nation.” Yennefer gave the griffin a look. “From what I know, all the northern kingdoms are sending their intelligence teams out to find her. The kings wish to gain the princess so they can gain the support of Cintra’s people and enrich themselves with the wealth of the nation that Nilfgaard has toppled. And Nilfgaard wants to get their hands on the girl as well. They need a member of the royal family who’s malleable so they can rightfully take over Cintra’s rulership. Menno Coehoorn, Cintra’s current governor, is agonizing over this matter.”

Yennefer continued. “Vissegerd, who survived the war, is taking in the refugees with the support of the king of Brugge. He’s gathering an army to reclaim their lost home, and they too are searching for Ciri.”

The princess’ smile disappeared, and she felt trepidation setting in her heart. Quietly, she leaned against Gryphon, feeling its warmth and heartbeat.

“I know, Yen. Even without those people, there are already two men out there searching for her. A knight from Nilfgaard and a sorcerer who looks like a mercenary, but what of it? Destiny still led me to the girl.” Geralt looked at the princess, his face softening up. Ever since he found Ciri, he had decided to never let go of her. Relenting would only invite an even harsher punishment from Destiny, but it would only fall on the girl.

“My brothers and I shall protect her. She can grow without worries under our wing.”

“So that means you’re not going to hand her over to anyone?” Yennefer had a look that said, I knew it.

Yennefer looked at the girl on the griffin’s back, and pity filled her face. “So what’s the plan? Will you raise her like she’s a regular human so she can live her life in peace? Or will you turn her into a witcher like the children? Will you let her take the ridiculous potion made up of proprietary decoctions, special fungus, and shrooms? What then? She’ll undergo that deadly Trial and go through hell for a measly chance at survival? Only three out of ten manage to become witchers, as I’m sure you know.”

“I-I want to be a witcher!” shouted Ciri. She leapt down from the griffin and quickly approached Geralt. The girl held his hand and swayed his arm, pleading, “I want to be a swordsperson like Geralt. A monster hunter!”

“You foolish girl!” Yennefer narrowed her eyes and held Ciri’s other hand, pulling her closer. “You do not know what this means at all. You are still young, and you require proper guidance to train your powers. Taking potions and decoctions to gain strength is not the best way to go about this!”

Shocked by Yennefer’s imperious command, the girl took a few steps back until she could barely smell the lilac and gooseberries coming off her.

Geralt fell into a dilemma. After a discussion with the brotherhood, he did consider having Ciri undergo witcher training and become the first girl to go through the mutation. The dangers awaiting her were many and lethal. She must have enough strength to protect herself, but they hadn’t started preparations yet.

“There’s nothing wrong with the potions. After Lytta and Kalkstein’s modifications, the Trial is perfectly safe now.” Auckes crossed his arms, puffing his chest out. He was a little displeased, and he looked at Yennefer quizzically. “You seem to have a deep-set prejudice against witchers.”

“I am just stating the facts.” Yennefer smiled arrogantly and held the edges of Ciri’s cheeks gently. “Open your mouth and say ‘Aahh’.” The sorceress checked Ciri’s teeth like she was a horse.

Ciri quickly shook her head free of the sorceress and harrumphed, trying to bite her hand. Yennefer grabbed the girl’s cheeks and pulled on them like they were balls of dough. “She’s just ten. Barely starting to grow. Your potions will affect her body’s growth, akin to forcing a chick to grow into a chicken in mere weeks. Yes, she will grow faster, but at the expense of her potential, just like you, Geralt.”

Yennefer looked at her long-lost lover and sighed. “You used to be a Source, but that mutation back when you were a child destroyed your potential. Witcher potions will scramble her hormones and fry her endocrine system. Heavy physical and swordsmanship training will also change the composition of her body and muscles. It’ll also take away her feminine physical traits. Ciri will grow up hating you for this, do you understand?”

“She has a point.” Auckes stole a glance at Yennefer’s generous bosom, then he looked at Ciri. The witcher imagined a woman with a cute face but paired with an overly muscular body with pecs instead of a soft chest. He shivered. She thinks a lot further than we do.

“It’s still not too late. Ciri’s as healthy as she can be,” said Geralt, looking at Yennefer. “Any suggestions?”

“Appropriate training.” Yennefer raised her chin and circled Ciri, sizing her up like she was merchandise. The girl shivered in fear. She had to convince herself that Yennefer meant her no harm. “General classes and some self-defense classes. It’s a tough world out there. These training sessions will come in handy should she find herself in sticky situations. You’re not her nannies. You cannot keep an eye on her at all times.”

“We were already planning on doing that.” Geralt nodded.

“Oh, so I can jump around the stakes and have the juice the boys are taking?” Ciri jumped around, happy as a rabbit, her eyes glinting with anticipation.

“Oh, those concoctions are no simple drinks. They’re special medicines made to strengthen the body. Bitter as a gourd.” A bloodthirsty smile curled Auckes’ lips. “And you’re going to beg us to stop training you eventually, Ciri.”

Ciri curled her spindly forearms. “Don’t underestimate me. I’ve fought the crybaby, tilled the fields, and reared chickens. I’m not as weak as you think.”

Yennefer held Ciri’s shoulder tightly. She couldn’t imagine the pampered princess going through the kind of hell a child like her shouldn’t. “Two. She can’t just stay here forever. This is a good place to raise children into decent human beings, yes, but Ciri’s in a delicate position. She can’t stay in one place for long, or the intelligence teams will find out where she is. You, Geralt, have to be careful. There are people out there who know of your connection with Ciri. They might get to her through you.”

Yennefer said coldly, “You need to show her the wider world sometimes. Show her what this world has to offer, and make sure to stay out of trouble.”

Ciri held Yennefer’s hand tightly and looked at her with worship and gratitude. I’m sorry for doubting you, Lady Yennefer. So you do know my wish. Thank you for telling Geralt to take me on adventures.

“I will, but only after the war has ended. The paths will be less dangerous then.” Roy told him the same thing before, so Geralt hadn’t left Novigrad lately. Still, it was time to contact their allies and set up some defenses against the spies. “We’ll be going sightseeing. The Temple of Melitele in Ellander, for example. But first, we’ll be taking her to Skellige Isles. There’s someone she must see.”

Ciri clasped her hands to her mouth, delight flaring in her eyes. We’re finally going to see Calanthe? She didn’t say that out loud, however. Geralt had told her to never leak the secret that her grandmother was still alive.

“Why Skellige?” Yennefer asked.

Geralt said nothing. Displeasure flashed in Yennefer’s eyes, and she raised her head, but she didn’t press further. “Three, and this is the most important point.” Solemnity painted Yennefer’s face. “You might have missed this, but I didn’t. As a sorceress, from the moment I touched Ciri, I knew what kind of existence she must be.”

“What is she?” Geralt asked.

“A Source.”

“Impossible.” Geralt shook his head. “The medallion didn’t react to her, nor did she display any magic.”

“Because she does not know of her potential, let alone use it. Her talent has been dormant all this time, never showing itself. Yet that does not change the fact that her latent potential has been slowly and safely mingling with the chaos energy around her. Her talent for magic might be one of its kind. Surely you still remember who her mother was. What her mother was.”

Geralt fell silent as he was reminded of an event that happened ten years ago. During the ball Calanthe held to pick a potential partner for Pavetta, the late princess hovered in the air and let out a scream, her magic knocking everything over in the whole ballroom. Ciri inherited her mother’s talent for magic? I wonder if that’s a blessing or a curse.

“Lady Yennefer.” Auckes’ gaze took on a hostile hue. “You aren’t taking the girl to Aretuza, are you?”

“Your worries are unfounded.” Yennefer frowned and combed Ciri’s hair with her fingers. “The sorcerers have long since stopped scouring for sources and children with a proclivity for magic. They have long since stopped snatching children away from their parents. The people who are smart enough will enrol their magically talented children to our academy. I will not take Ciri away from you, and I will keep everything a secret.” Yennefer looked solemn, and she spoke softly but firmly. “That I can promise you, Geralt.”

“I’ve never doubted you, Yen.” Geralt finally had a chance to show his feelings for her.

“In case our little Source’s magic goes out of control and hurts the other kids, I’ll be staying around to guide her.” Yennefer finally said her goal. “Until she masters the rudimentary control over magic.”

“Lady Yennefer, can I use magic to fly in the sky like Gryphon?” Ciri’s eyes shone.

“No. At most you can hover a few feet off the ground. A sorceress needs at least decades of training. At most, you can learn a trick or two over the course of your training, and that’s only when you work for it. But if you keep it up, someday you will be an illustrious sorceress yourself.” A pause later, a hint of respect flashed in Yennefer’s eyes. “Just like Vilgerfortz.”

“I promise!” Ciri looked ecstatic. In her naive mind, sword and sorcery were interesting games.

Geralt nodded and looked at the dazzling sorceress. “We’ll be arranging a magic class for Ciri on top of her general class and physical education. But will this get in the way of your work?”

“So what if it does? Will you compensate me in any way?” Yennefer gave the White Wolf a look, her lips glistening lustrously, inviting the witcher to come closer.

Geralt looked away.

“My only job is to educate Ciri. If you don’t mind, how about I start her first session right now?” Yennefer looked at the witchers and held Ciri’s hand. “You can introduce the other members and the kids to me at dinner.”

***

Roy was done watching the exchange. He cut off the vision and descended the staircase that led into a brightly-lit lab.

A curvaceous sorceress in a black dress stood before the Arcane Enchanter, colorful chaos energy swirling around her fingers, runes covering a perfectly shining plate armor in the center of the table.

That was the plate armor Eorlund made for Roy back in Skyrim. The one birthed by the Skyforge and came with 40% fire resistance.

“Ah, just in time.” Noticing Roy’s presence, Lytta motioned at him to come closer. “Try your new armor on. I changed the enchantment into Halo of Flames. It’ll cover you with a layer of an invisible barrier of flames once activated. Anyone who gets close to you will be damaged over time. You, of course, are exempt from this effect. Whenever the effect is not in use, the armor will absorb the chaos energy lingering in the air. Once fully charged, the armor can last for half an hour.”

“That is outstanding enough, Coral.” Roy took off his leather armor, and Lytta straightened out his collar for him.

“Evelyn has replanted thirty types of Skyrim herbs, but she’ll need to grow them for a year or two before they can be used in any concoction.” Coral straightened out his sleeves and collar as she gently told him what the brotherhood’s members were doing.

“Letho and Kiyan have made modifications to Thunderbolt using the herbs you brought back. That’s the first decoction they worked on. Its effect is now raised by twenty percent. Vesemir has almost figured out the process behind the making of this set of armor, but we do not have the skills to recreate it, let alone turn the dragon scales and bones into anything usable. We are in dire need of a master armorsmith.”

Time to seek out Berengar, I guess.

Noticing the look on Roy’s face, Coral said, “While you and Geralt were searching for Ciri, Vesemir had taken off to Vizima to search for Berengar, but the lone Wolf is still traveling across the continent. He will not return for a year or two.”

Roy rubbed his chin and tried his best to come up with the names of any possible swordsmith and armorer. Since the timeline wasn’t there yet, he had no idea where Hattori, Novigrad’s famed elven blacksmith, and Yoana, the blacksmith of Velen, could be found.

The only place he knew that housed master armorers was the Skellige Isles. On the isle of Undvik, a clan by the name of Tordarroch stood tall. They had the most talented blacksmiths and the best forges on their side. Just as well, Roy was traveling to Skellige soon to investigate Ortolan and find a lead on Idarran. He could deal with two matters at the same time, so he told Coral about his plan.

“Visenna had news for us. Suspected sightings of the red light in the druid circle in Mayena and the one near Sodden. The culprit is still unknown.”

Roy nodded. The cleansing light was not a threat to them just yet, so he was not worried. “Ah, almost forgot. Yennefer has arrived at the orphanage. You can talk to her when you see fit.”

“Oh, the raven-haired woman from Vengerberg.” Lytta’s eyes glinted.

“You know her?”

“Acquaintances, I’d wager, but she’s an arrogant woman. Hard to approach.” Lytta brushed a finger across Roy’s cheek. “Heard it’s because of her modification. Went too far into the deep end and modified her personality. First me, then Triss, and now Yennefer.” Lytta took on a quizzical tone, her eyes fixed on Roy. “What are you thinking, dragging us all into your brotherhood? We know each other.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way.” Roy shook his head quickly. “Yennefer and Geralt had some entanglements between them to settle, so … so I lent them a hand.”

Coral bought the story, though only just. “Now that the Battle of Sodden Hill is over, can I go back to the brotherhood and Aretuza?”

That shocked Roy. “Why are you going back?” The witcher was a little uneasy about her departure.

“I didn’t sell myself to the brotherhood. Even witchers get to enjoy a hot bath and good wine during their downtime. Sorcerers get to take a little break to enjoy the success of their experiments, don’t you think?”

Rou couldn’t argue with that.

“Don’t worry. I’m just going to see some old friends, then I’ll be back. They’re all ladies.” Coral rested her head on Roy’s shoulder.

Roy looked at her soft, flawless face. “Don’t get into any of the organization’s plans. Don’t jump into anything political. And stay away from Tissaia. She’s a stubborn one. Same goes for Philippa Eilhart and everyone in the brotherhood. Especially Vilgefortz and the Daisy of the Valleys.”

“By that you mean Lady Francesca Findabair?”

“Yes. She’s a gorgeous woman, as I’m sure you know, but she’s hiding a big secret underneath her beauty. You’d best stay far, far away from her.” Scoia’tael should show themselves soon. “I’ll explain next time.”