Chapter 112: The Lodge's Summons
POV: Adam
The projection materialized without warning.
One moment, the great hall held its usual evening gathering—warriors drinking, stories being told, Ciri practicing small portal openings under Yennefer's watchful eye. The next, three figures shimmered into existence at the hall's center, magical projections carrying the weight of continental power.
Philippa Eilhart. Margarita Laux-Antille. Fringilla Vigo.
Three of the most powerful sorceresses alive, their images conveying presence that made the air feel heavier.
[ Entities Identified ]
[ Philippa Eilhart: Level 55+ (Lodge Leadership) ]
[ Margarita Laux-Antille: Level 50+ (Aretuza Rector) ]
[ Fringilla Vigo: Level 48+ (Nilfgaardian Faction) ]
"Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon." Philippa's voice carried command that assumed obedience. "The Lodge of Sorceresses formally summons you to appear before our council. Your Elder Blood is a matter of continental security. We have responsibility to assess your development and guide your training."
"Guide?" Ciri's response came sharp. "Or control?"
"Guide. We're not your enemies, child. We're the only organization capable of helping you reach your potential safely." Philippa's expression didn't change. "You will present yourself at Montecalvo within one month. Bring whatever guards you feel necessary, but understand—refusal carries consequences."
"Consequences?"
"Declaration as a rogue mage. All Lodge members and allies would be obligated to apprehend you for rehabilitation." The threat came matter-of-fact. "Don't force us to such measures. Come willingly, demonstrate good faith, and we can reach arrangements benefiting everyone."
The projections faded before Ciri could respond.
—Scene Break—
POV: Ciri
Fury burned through the soulbond, and she wasn't sure if it was hers or Adam's.
"They can't just summon me like a servant."
"They can try." Yennefer's voice carried resignation. "I warned you this was coming. Philippa doesn't ask—she positions situations until her preferred outcome seems inevitable."
"Then we position back." Adam's contribution drew everyone's attention. "We don't refuse. We don't comply meekly. We attend on our terms, demonstrating strength rather than submission."
"What terms?" Geralt's question came practical.
"We set conditions. Guards present—both of us, not just Geralt. Meeting location neutral, not Lodge fortress. Skellige warriors nearby as backup. Any attempt at coercion ends with immediate departure." Adam's tactical mind was already working. "Turn their trap into our power play."
"Philippa won't accept those conditions."
"Then she doesn't get her meeting." Ciri felt her own resolve crystallizing. "I'm done being treated as resource to be claimed. Either they negotiate as equals or they don't negotiate at all."
—Scene Break—
POV: Adam
The counter-proposal went through Yennefer, who transmitted it with visible skepticism about its chances.
Three days passed in tense waiting.
The response, when it came, proved more accommodating than expected—but only barely.
"They accept neutral ground." Yennefer delivered the news during morning training. "A temple in Tretogor, considered sacred by all magical traditions. They accept Skellige warriors nearby, though not within the temple itself."
"And my presence?"
"They refuse. Philippa specifically objects to 'the elemental' attending what she considers a magical summit."
"Unacceptable." Ciri's response came immediate, our bond pulsing with shared determination. "Adam attends or I don't."
"Then propose a compromise." Yennefer's suggestion carried strategic calculation. "Accept his presence but with limitation. Silenced, perhaps—unable to speak during the proceedings. Present but not participating. Allows Philippa to claim she maintained control while giving you what you need."
"I don't need to speak." I met Ciri's eyes. "I just need to be there. If things go wrong, words won't matter anyway—actions will."
The compromise worked. Two weeks later, final terms were confirmed: the meeting would proceed with all conditions met except my verbal participation. A magical silence would prevent me from interrupting Lodge business, but my presence would protect Ciri from anything that required physical response.
"Two weeks to prepare." Geralt assessed the timeline. "Combat readiness in case they try something. Diplomatic composure in case they don't."
"And intelligence gathering." Yennefer added. "I'll contact allies within the Lodge, learn what Philippa's actually planning. She doesn't summon people without specific goals."
"Goals involving Ciri?"
"Goals involving Elder Blood. The distinction might seem subtle, but it matters." Yennefer's expression held unusual gravity. "Philippa sees Ciri as power source, not person. Whatever she's planning, assume it benefits the Lodge first and Ciri incidentally at best."
—Scene Break—
POV: Ciri
The fortnight of preparation proved intense.
Combat drills every morning—coordinated assault patterns, defensive formations, escape routes if negotiation turned violent. Diplomatic coaching every afternoon—Yennefer explaining Lodge politics, faction alignments, which sorceresses could be trusted (few) and which had agendas that might align with hers temporarily (more).
"Philippa wants control of Elder Blood for political leverage." The sorceress laid out position papers she'd gathered through contacts. "Margarita genuinely cares about magical education, would probably support your autonomy if shown you're capable. Fringilla..." Yennefer's expression soured. "Fringilla serves Nilfgaard first, Lodge second. Whatever she proposes benefits Emperor Emhyr somehow."
"So we have one potential ally, one definite opponent, and one complicated situation."
"Welcome to politics. The ratio rarely improves."
—Scene Break—
POV: Adam
The night before departure, Ciri and I stood on the battlements watching stars emerge over Skellige's mountains.
"Nervous?" I asked, though I already knew the answer through our bond.
"Terrified." Her honesty carried no shame. "These are the most powerful mages on the continent, and they want to control me. What if our preparations aren't enough? What if Philippa has contingencies we haven't imagined?"
"Then we adapt. Same as always." I pulled her close, felt her warmth against the evening chill. "We survived Cintra's fall with nothing. Survived the Hunt's attack with hope and determination. Survived months of running with just each other. Whatever the Lodge throws at us, we'll handle it."
"Promise?"
"Promise." Through the bond, I sent certainty I didn't entirely feel—but she needed to believe we'd survive, and belief often created its own reality. "Besides, if they try anything truly hostile, Geralt will gut them before they finish the spell. And Lambert will probably help just because he enjoys violence."
Her laugh cut through the tension. "You're not supposed to find that reassuring."
"I'm not supposed to find a lot of things reassuring. The world doesn't work the way it's supposed to." I kissed her forehead. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow we show the Lodge that Ciri of Cintra isn't anyone's tool."
[ XP Gained: 300 (Political Preparation, Strategic Planning) ]
[ Level 45: 35% toward Level 46 ]
[ Lodge Relations: Tense Negotiations Complete ]
[ Quest Updated: Attend Lodge Meeting (Conditions Accepted) ]
The journey would take a week. The meeting would determine whether the most powerful magical organization on the continent became ally or enemy.
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