Chapter 114: Journey to Montecalvo
POV: Adam
The house's interior matched its exterior's message: you are small, and we are vast.
Vaulted ceilings disappeared into shadows that seemed to move. Columns of polished obsidian reflected distorted images of everyone who passed. The air carried scents of old magic—ozone and aged parchment and something else I couldn't name but recognized as power accumulated over centuries.
At the chamber's far end, five sorceresses sat on an elevated platform, their positions arranged to maximize the psychological advantage of height.
[ Entities Present ]
[ Philippa Eilhart (Level 55+): Lodge Leadership - Primary Threat ]
[ Margarita Laux-Antille (Level 50+): Aretuza Rector - Potential Moderate ]
[ Fringilla Vigo (Level 48+): Nilfgaardian Agent - Complicated Loyalties ]
[ Sheala de Tancarville (Level 48+): Political Operator - Unknown Agenda ]
[ Assire var Anahid (Level 45+): Junior Member - Uncertain Alignment ]
The silencing spell settled around me the moment we crossed the threshold—invisible but absolute. My mouth opened, and nothing emerged. I could breathe, could hear, could think, but speech had been removed as completely as if my vocal cords had been cut.
Through the soulbond, I pushed reassurance to Ciri. I'm still here. Still watching. Just can't contribute verbally.
Her response came warm with gratitude and determination.
"Child of Elder Blood." Philippa's voice carried across the chamber without apparent effort. "You've made us wait quite long enough. Time to discuss your future."
The condescension in her tone made my hands clench involuntarily. She's treating Ciri like a wayward student, not an independent power.
—Scene Break—
POV: Ciri
She'd expected intimidation. She hadn't expected to feel like a child being lectured by disapproving aunts.
"The Lodge has watched your development with interest." Philippa continued, her blind eyes somehow managing to convey direct attention. "Your Elder Blood manifestations, your dimensional awakening, your... attachment to the elemental." A gesture toward Adam that dismissed him as irrelevance. "We've been patient while you explored your capabilities. Now it's time for proper guidance."
"I have guidance. Yennefer's been teaching me."
"Yennefer teaches what she knows, which is considerable but limited." Philippa's smile held no warmth. "We offer something greater. The Lodge's collective wisdom—centuries of magical research, practical training with dimensions your ancestors barely understood, political connections that could protect you from threats you don't even know exist."
"And in exchange?"
"Cooperation. You're young enough to bear children—the bloodline must continue. We've identified suitable fathers, men of intelligence and magical potential who would strengthen Elder Blood's next generation. You'd live comfortably, protected, your needs attended to while you contribute to our collective future."
The words landed like physical blows. Breeding stock. They want to use me as breeding stock.
"Additionally, the soulbond you've formed is... problematic." Philippa's gesture toward Adam carried distaste. "It creates vulnerabilities we can't control. Part of accepting Lodge protection means severing connections that compromise your security."
Through the bond, she felt Adam's fury blazing—helpless rage at being unable to respond, at hearing her reduced to political resource.
"And if I refuse these generous terms?" Ciri kept her voice level through effort of will.
"Then you make enemies of the most powerful organization on the continent. We've tried patience, child. We've tried indirect observation. If you won't cooperate willingly..." Philippa's pause carried implicit threat. "There are other ways to ensure Elder Blood's preservation."
—Scene Break—
POV: Adam
The rage that flooded through me had nothing to do with the silencing spell.
They want her to bear children for their political programs. Want to sever our bond. Want to control every aspect of her existence because her blood is valuable.
I couldn't speak, but I could act. Earth answered my call—subtle vibrations through the floor, warning tremors that made dust dance on stone surfaces. Nothing aggressive, not yet, but presence established.
Every sorceress felt it. Philippa's head turned toward me, her magical sight clearly showing what her blind eyes couldn't.
"Control your creature, Princess. We're having a conversation."
Ciri's response came cold enough to frost the air.
"He's not my creature. He's my partner. My soulbonded. The person I chose to merge my existence with, not because Lodge politics demanded it but because love demanded it." She stood, and dimensional energy began swirling around her—controlled, deliberate, terrifying in its implications. "And I'm not your child, Philippa. I'm not your breeding stock. I'm not your political asset to deploy."
"You're being emotional. Understandable at your age, but—"
"I'm being clear." Ciri's power expanded, filling the chamber with pressure that made the sorceresses' defensive wards flare. "I'm Child of Elder Blood with a nation of warriors sworn to my protection. I'm soulbonded to a man who commands four elements. I'm trained by the White Wolf, the most famous monster hunter in history. And I'm telling you—clearly, calmly, absolutely—that your terms are rejected."
Through our bond, I felt her determination crystallize into something diamond-hard.
"Threaten me again, and you'll learn exactly how much power you're trying to cage."
—Scene Break—
POV: Geralt
The witcher's hand rested on his sword hilt throughout Ciri's speech, ready to draw if the situation escalated.
But watching her face down five of the most dangerous mages alive—watching her refuse their demands with the same steel Calanthe would have shown—he felt something between pride and sorrow.
She's not my little girl anymore. She's a power unto herself.
The Lodge members conferred through silent magical communication, their expressions cycling through surprise, calculation, reassessment. Philippa's condescension had cracked the moment Ciri's energy filled the room, replaced by something closer to genuine respect.
Or genuine fear. With the Lodge, the distinction often blurred.
"Perhaps we've misjudged the situation." Philippa's words came carefully, each one selected for maximum diplomatic flexibility. "Your... development has exceeded our projections."
"Your projections were based on treating me as resource rather than person." Ciri's power remained active, dimensional pressure maintained as reminder of what she could unleash. "I'm not interested in being managed. I'm interested in defeating the Wild Hunt and building a life afterward. If the Lodge wants to help with those goals, we can discuss terms. If the Lodge wants to control me, this conversation is over."
[ Lodge Relations: Hostile → Recalculating ]
[ Ciri's Confidence: Major Boost ]
[ Political Standing: Significantly Improved ]
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
To supporting Me in Pateron .
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