YEAR 1269 -
Six years had passed.
High above the winding valleys that cradled Kaer Morhen, beyond the paths most dared to tread, there was a forest in the mountainside. Pines stood tall and ancient, and the ground beneath them was uneven, broken by roots, stone, and the scars of creatures that had long claimed this place as their hunting ground.
Tonight, that claim had ended.
The corpse of the chort lay sprawled between the trees, a monstrous thing even in death. Its massive body had torn through the forest during the fight, leaving gouged earth and shattered trunks in its wake. Thick, black blood pooled beneath it, steaming faintly in the cold air, the stench of it heavy and sharp.
Its throat ws cleanly opened.
Ciri stood a few steps away from the carcass, her chest rising slowly as she steadied her breath. Her sword rested loosely in her hand, its edge still darkened from the final strike, though most of the blood had already begun to slide free of the steel.
It had been quick.
A flash of movement, barely visible to the human eye. Space itself had bent to her will, reappearing behind the beast in the same instant. The chort had not even finished turning when her blade swept across its throat in one smooth, merciless arc.
She smiled as she turned away from the body.
Sebastian sat a short distance off, perched on a fallen log, the aftermath of the battle written plainly across him. Dark blood, too much of it covered parts of his armor and stained his sleeves, though none of it seemed to slow him. He held his silver sword across his lap, a cloth in hand as he methodically wiped the blade clean.
Completely unbothered.
He had changed.
Time made him look sharper, his hair had grown a bit longer, dark strands falling loosely across his face, catching faintly in the mountain wind. Some of it had been tied back at some point, though now it had half-fallen free. His features had become even more striking, and his eyes, the unmistakable witcher eyes, glowed faintly beneath the dim forest light.
He was taller now, his frame refined rather than bulky, built for speed and for precision.
Ciri watched him for a moment.
Then she stepped forward.
"You're getting sloppy, O Lord of flame." she said teasingly.
Sebastian didn't look up. "You missed the heart."
She scoffed lightly. "I didn't need to."
He allowed himself a small smile at that.
She stopped beside him, glancing down at the sword in her hand before giving it a light, testing swing. The blade cut cleanly through the air, balanced perfectly, responding as if it were an extension of her arm.
"This isn't bad at all," she said, turning it slightly, examining the edge. "You've really improved in your smithing skills."
Her tone shifted, softer now.
"It's light… but it bites."
Sebastian finally glanced up at her, a look of pride flickering across his expression.
"I'm glad you like it, I spent so much time making that one. 'ZIRAEL' a fitting name for your blade, it can be improved with the right tools and materials."
Ciri tilted her head, studying him for another second, then, without warning, she nudged his shoulder lightly with her fist.
And before he could react,
In one smooth move, she dropped down into his lap, one leg folding over the other side of the log as her arms slipped around his neck, pulling herself closer without hesitation.
Sebastian blinked, caught off guard for a second.
"..Woah."
Ciri grinned, entirely unrepentant, her hands resting loosely behind his neck as she leaned in just enough to make it difficult for him to go back to what he was doing.
"You think you've earned the right to call yourself a master smith now?" she asked, her voice carrying that familiar teasing tone.
Sebastian tried, briefly, to angle his sword away from her, the cloth still in his hand as he exhaled through his nose.
"Perhaps."
"That doesn't sound very convincing."
"I know what you are doing... What do you really want to say Ciri..."
She huffed out a quiet laugh.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Ciri's expression softened slightly.
"Well," she said after a moment, quieter now, "at least we're ready."
Sebastian sighed.
She didn't need to explain what she meant.
"The Path," she added anyway, her voice lower now. "You still intend to go alone."
Sebastian leaned back slightly against the log, his gaze drifting past her, toward the distant outline of the mountains.
"The Path isn't meant for company," he said. "There's a reason for that."
Ciri's grip around him tightened just a little.
"That doesn't mean we have to follow every rule, you and I never followed any rules to begin with!"
His eyes flickered back to hers.
"I would want you with me," he admitted. "You know that."
He paused for a second.
"But you're still being hunted, if they see you out there, words will reach Emhyr."
"Your father hasn't stopped looking for you," he continued. "If anything, he's gotten better at it. And if he hasn't found you yet, it's only because this place…" He glanced toward the distant direction of Kaer Morhen. "…doesn't exist to most of the world and it is very hard to reach for Nilfgaardians currently."
Ciri frowned slightly.
"We've been here for years," she said. "Nothing's happened."
"Because we're cut off," Sebastian replied. "From everything."
His tone shifted, more grounded than harsh.
"We hear things from the south and from what the others bring back," His jaw tightened faintly. "It's not quiet out there, that's for sure."
Ciri looked at him, studying the way his expression had changed.
"You worry too much about things that don't concern us," she said. "We're Witchers."
Sebastian let out a quiet breath, it was more like a bitter laugh.
"Maybe."
His gaze dropped briefly, then lifted again.
"Or maybe it's because we're both Nilfgaardian."
That made her pause.
"Politics doesn't just disappear because we say it does," he continued. "It follows us. Shapes things whether we like it or not, and you Ciri are in the center of all of that, you must be protected."
He tilted his head slightly, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful.
"You see, we witchers.. we like to say that we're neutral by principle. That we stand apart from it all."
A bitter smile touched his lips.
"That's not entirely true."
Ciri said nothing.
"We all choose a side eventually," he finished. "Even if we pretend we don't."
Silence settled between them.
Ciri's gaze softened.
Then, without a word, she leaned in and kissed him.
The kiss wasn't hesitant and it wasn't rushed either.
Her hands tightened slightly behind his neck as she got herself even closer, and for a moment, everything else the forest, the corpse of the Chort next to them, and the world beyond the mountains, fell away.
Sebastian's hand moved instinctively to her back, steadying her, pulling her closer as he returned it just as deeply.
When they finally broke apart, it wasn't by much.
Her forehead rested against his, her eyes closed, her breath unsteady in a way it hadn't been during the fight.
A single tear slipped free, tracing quietly down her cheek.
"I still don't want you to go.." she whispered. "Not tomorrow."
Her voice wavered, just slightly.
"I don't want us to split up."
Sebastian didn't open his eyes.
Neither did she.
"Don't be ridiculous Ciri, it's not forever," he said softly. "Just until winter."
His grip on her tightened just a little.
"I need to see what's out there. What's changed and what hasn't."
"And you'll be here."
"Hiding and waiting," she murmured.
"Safe," he corrected.
She let out a faint breath that might have been a laugh.
"…We're stronger than ever now."
This time, she opened her eyes.
A small smile returned, a fragile one
"We are."
She pulled back slowly, slipping off his lap and landing lightly on her feet, the movement as fluid as ever. He stood shortly after, sheathing his sword.
Sebastian glanced toward the chort's body, then back at her.
"Come on," he said. "Let's take what we can from this bastard."
Ciri rolled her shoulders slightly,
"The others are waiting."
///////////////////////////////////////
Author's Note:
Current timeline: 1269
Ciri is currently 18, almost 19 (born in 1251)
Fall of Cintra: 1263
Ciri began training at Kaer Morhen in1263 alongside Sebastian.
Sebastian is 18 and has been training since 1257 in Kaer Morhen.
Note: Timeline follows game canon for clarity, as book dates and Ciri's age are very inconsistent and not very clear at times.
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