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[TL: Asuka][PR: Ash]
On the northern part of the lonesome island of Faroe, a lad and a young lady were on a black reef of Harviken Port, the sun shining upon them.
“Don’t just stand there, Hjalmar. Ain’t gonna catch a fish standin’ ‘ere like a statue. Move somewhere else, for Freya’s sake.” A freckled girl with short red hair and a hard jawline sat on the reef, staring at the empty basket. She chuckled. “Ya keep fishin’ in the same spot, and yer not gettin’ anythin’ ever.”
“Stop yammerin’, Cerys. Yer my sister, so ya listen to me! Ya gotta work with me ‘ere!” The lad was tall, had broad shoulders, some stubble, and a scar under his right eye. “Now toss ’em pickled shrimps and fish, Have a feelin’ some marlin’s gonna bite soon.”
“As if I’ll listen to ye, ya big oaf. Tide’s dippin’ soon. You’d better not waste any time. And we’re at the coast. Ain’t no marlins ‘ere. Minnows, maybe.”
“Ye sharp-tongued tomboy.”
“I’m the sparrowhawk o’ Crach!”
“No, ye a tomboy!”
“And ye a big oaf!”
The siblings stopped arguing abruptly. Like bristled cats, they leapt high into the air, then they turned around. A flash of white light burst in the air, and three silhouettes appeared out of nowhere.
Sunlight shone on the silhouettes, revealing who they truly were. In the center was a cloaked lad. On his left was a pregnant woman, and on his right, a beautiful girl. They met eyes with the siblings.
“Calanthe? Aintcha at Bran’s place?” Cerys’ jaw dropped. “What’s goin’ on ‘ere?”
Calanthe smiled bitterly. My. The girl’s not even born yet, and already she’s pulling a prank on me.
Their teleportation failed. They deviated from their intended destination.
Hjalmar noticed the girl on the left. She had eyes as verdant as prairie grass, and her features looked oddly familiar. Hjalmar’s breathing was getting ragged. “Is that you, Ciri?”
“Oh, Hjalmar! Cerys! Been years! You’re so tall now!” Ciri released herself from Roy’s grasp and trotted toward the siblings. She stood closer to them and compared their heights, then she gave them a hug. Proudly, she held her head high. “That was a teleportation spell I learned. So, are you impressed?”
“Wait? Ye can cast spells now? When did that happen?” Cerys looked surprised.
“Long story. Now I’m a magical princess! So what were you guys doing?”
“Fishin’ competition. Hjalmar lost, obviously. By a wide margin.”
“Don’t listen to ‘er, Ciri. So, ya here to finally marry me like ya promised?” Hjalmar stared at the beautiful Ciri, his eyes burning with passion.
A few years ago, he and Ciri had an ice-skating competition, but he ended up breaking both his hands and legs, and he got himself a scar on his face. After the accident, Ciri stayed by his side, reading books out loud and chatting with him.
They promised to get married eventually, but his father, oh, in all his cruelty, broke apart the lovers.
The ever fearless magical princess, Lion Cub of Cintra, blushed. She was mortified by the childish promise she made.
“Ah, shut it, ye mangy cur. That promise o’ yers is nothin’ but shit.” Cerys stepped in to clear the awkward air. “Wanna play, Ciri?”
“Ooh, yes. Loser drops down for a thousand squats.”
Roy was a little miffed. What am I, chopped liver? “You can have your competition later. Come here, Ciri. You were thinking about other stuff just now, weren’t you? That’s why we came here instead.”
“Sorry, Roy. Couldn’t help thinking about them.”
“Who’s that guy? Why’s he orderin’ ye around?”
“He’s my good friend. See ya around. I gotta go back.” Ciri waved the siblings goodbye and retreated to the witcher’s side. She held his hand. “I’ll be staying with Bran for the time being. Come over.”
Roy held Calanthe’s hand. “Alright, you two. Close your eyes. No distractions this time. Eist’s grave. Remember, his grave.”
“Roy, can we go anywhere if we just link hands? Anywhere we can imagine?” Something glinted in Calanthe’s eyes.
“I’m not sure. I’ve never had any experience with teleportation of this level. It’s incredibly fast, and there’s no spell or waypoint needed. You can go anywhere you think. Aside from the slight dizziness, this is perfect.”
Roy was a little shocked by the potential three bearers of the Elder Blood could have. Perhaps this is the higher power Freya mentioned. So I don’t even have to steal their blood. Ciri’s like a sister to me, and the unborn baby is my Unexpected Child. We just have to work together if we want more power. Not like they’re going anywhere.
Waves crashed upon the reef. The trio was swallowed by another burst of light. Hjalmar and Cerys stared at the air, flabbergasted.
“Well, whatcha waitin’ for? Leave yer stupid fish. Get Falc. We’re gettin’ to An Skellig right now. I’m goin’ to get my chance at marryin’ Ciri. Bran and Crach are gonna witness that too.” n.-𝗼–𝑣)-ℯ–𝔩./𝓑–1–n
***
Just as Roy suspected, they still weren’t at their destination. Instead, they were in a corridor. A brightly-lit corridor. A castle’s corridor.
The ground was draped in a luxurious red carpet. On the wall were two kinds of flags. One, flags with ruby pendants, and two, flags with the white lily of Temeria’s emblem.
Ciri’s eyes shone with excitement, but she quickly shook her head at the stern witcher. “Not me this time!”
“I apologize, Roy. That was me.” Calanthe stared at the flags. “We are now in the center of Sodden, the castle of the previous king, Ekkehard. It is now under the rule of Foltest, of course. This is also the place where the negotiations are taking place. I came here once a few years ago, so…”
“They don’t call you the lioness for nothing. I should praise you for sheer bravery alone. You’re practically giving yourself away to the kings who would hunt you down should they know you’re alive. And not just giving yourself away too, in this case. Pray there are no other people around here.”
“I just wanted to see how the talks are going. I won’t rest easy until I do.” Calanthe pursed her lips, longing flaring in her eyes. “It was just a fleeting thought, but now we’re here.”
Roy put a finger to his lips and took the ladies to a storeroom in the corner of the corridor. He leapt into the air and hung on the ceiling like a lizard, then he climbed away swiftly.
“Why did you bring us here, Roy?” Calanthe nervously held her granddaughter. “Yennefer is teaching Ciri herself. My granddaughter will not join Aretuza.
“Don’t worry, I’m just here to see a lady.” Roy said, “You two got to go to where you like, so I should get my turn. No sexism in this household.”
Calanthe could not argue with that.
Ciri, however, pouted and shot the witcher a glare. “Hey, you got your turn first. I know you did, Roy.”
“No, I did not. Now hold your grandmother. We’re going to the aca… de…” The witcher found himself tongue-tied. He turned his attention to the swaying willow tree and the pond before it.
Four naked arms suddenly popped up from the pond. Two were tanned, while two were white as snow. Glimmering droplets of water trickled down the arms and drenched the ground, then two beautiful faces appeared through the surface, situated between the arms.
One was petite and oval and looked no older than sixteen. She was fair and had a lovely face. Her hair was brown, drenched, and plastered to the back of her head. Her eyes were big and shining with childish innocence. Her nose was petite, and so were her luscious lips. She had a little baby fat in her cheeks, lending a hint of cuteness to her.
That face dragged up some memories. Ah, the girl from Aldersberg has grown up as well.
‘Casiga/Toya
Gender: Female
Age: Sixteen years old
Status: Student of Aretuza
HP: 70
Mana: 180
Strength: 5
Dexterity: 5
Constitution: 7
Perception: 7
Will: 7
Charisma: 8
Spirit: 8
Skills:
Source (Passive), Meditation Level 2, Frozen Arrow Level 2, Icicle Armor Level 2, Fireball Level 2…’
***
The other woman had rose-red lips and eyes as blue as the deep sea. Her crimson hair danced like wildfire under the shine of the golden sun. She was as beautiful as a goddess.
***
Noticing the look on Roy’s face, Ciri felt like pulling a prank. “Grandma Lytta!” she shouted.
The ladies in the pond had their attention grabbed, and they turned to Roy. Casiga gasped and shrunk into the pond. The other sorceress, however, laughed and got up, making a splash.
Lytta came out of the pond.
Ciri stared at the lovely lady before her. Her skin was smooth, her body more curvaceous than any nymph’s or statue’s. It was like staring at a sculpture made by the gods, the lines as voluptuous as could be.
The girl looked at herself, then she turned her attention to her pregnant grandmother. Ciri bit her lip. Oh wow. I am so lacking in these departments.
At the same time, a black dress covered Lytta up. “Roy, Ciri, and this must be Queen Calanthe.” Lytta approached them and held Roy’s arm, her hair brushing his cheek. It had a unique scent, and Lytta’s gaze was curious.
“Trust me when I say this is an accident.” Roy turned around and smiled awkwardly.
Lytta didn’t even blink.
“Alright, fine, I came to see you. Tested out some new abilities with Ciri and the queen.”
Calanthe held her lower back and frowned, a hint of exhaustion tingeing her face.
“What new ability?”
“Long story.” Roy turned to the pond and met eyes with the young sorceress who was staring at him furtively, half her head still hidden underwater. “Toya? Or should I call you Casiga now?”
“Y-You still remember me, Roy?” Dimples formed on Casiga’s cheeks as a smile stretched across her lips. The rims of her eyes went red, her voice trilling with delight, and also cracked from joy.
“We made a promise, didn’t we?”
“Come on out, Casiga. You’ve missed him so much, haven’t you? And you even made a promise. Come out and meet your dear lovely Roy.” Lytta smiled at Roy, but there was fire in her eyes.
Roy tried his best to stay unfazed, and he turned away from Lytta’s death stare.
Lytta let him off the hook.
For now.
“The queen seems to be worn out. Come. We should find a better place to talk.”