POV Aiden The years passed without me really noticing, to be honest.
I was slowly getting used to this world.
Even though, deep down, I missed my family immensely, and goodbyes have never been easy, I at least hoped their tears had dried by now.
Aside from that, I had grown.
When I first arrived in this world, I was barely ten years old yes, ten and over the years of intensive training with the commander, who had clearly taken me under his wing.
Truth be told, I felt like a disciple, and he my mentor.
He gradually taught me the art of warfare, and he was the one who made me kill consciously for the first time.
Sure, I had killed back when Ciri and I were locked up, but that was more instinctive than deliberate.
This time, I had truly taken lives of my own free will: bandits preying on a neighboring village.
When I turned twelve, the Queen gifted me a foal descended from the line of Ciri’s mother’s horse a beautiful mare with a jet-black coat and a white-braided mane.
I still remember the times Ciri wanted to ride her; I believe it was for her ninth birthday, in 1262.
— Flashback POV Aiden I sighed as I let myself be dragged along by Ciri, who was pulling me by the hand, and said with an amused smile: “Where’s the fire, Ciri?” She shook her head without slowing down, still tugging me toward the paddocks, and said, brimming with excitement: “No!
You don’t understand!
It’s so rare that Grandmother lets me go riding, and I’ve always wanted to ride this horse!” Arriving at the enclosure, she let out a little girlish squeal and stroked my horse’s head.
I smiled faintly it was in moments like these that you could still see her as a child, despite all her efforts to act grown-up.
Whenever Mousesack asked her questions about mathematics or botany, she would pout and give me those puppy-dog eyes, begging me to help her.
But I always looked away.
To each their own troubles, right?
A bit petty, maybe.
She turned to me with a bright smile: “By the way, Aidy, what did you name her?” I walked over and stroked the mare’s head, and she rubbed against me like a dog.
I smiled at the sight of Ciri pouting, a bit jealous that my horse was showing so much affection toward me, and said: “Honestly, I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out.
And don’t be jealous you’ll have a horse of your own one day.
What would you name yours?” I added, lifting her by the waist to help her mount before climbing up behind her.
I guided the mare out of the paddock, and Ciri said, clinging to me from behind: “I’m thinking…
Swallow?
No, wait, I know: Kelpie!” I smiled as we rode out of the castle grounds, heading toward the open plains: “Kelpie, like the sea monster?” She nodded sadly, resting her head against my back: “It’s also to remind me of how Mother and Father vanished at sea.
Like they’re still right here with me.” I smiled gently: “Ciri…” But before I could comfort her, I felt a few tears fall against my back, and she said mournfully: “Tell me…
do you promise we’ll always stay together?
You’re the only one by my side who puts up with my nonsense.” I was about to pull up on the reins to comfort her, but she kept going: “I know I’m not the perfect model of a princess.
I love swords!
I love hanging out with the common folk and fighting in the mud!
Grandmother hates me, and I’m sure Uncle Mousesack only puts up with me, I…” I cut her off, lowered her down in front of me, and wiped away her tears with my gloves, saying softly: “Ciri, I’ve told you before: Her Majesty doesn’t hate you.
Do you really think Mousesack merely ‘puts up’ with you, when he treasures every single moment he spends with you?” She looked at me, her eyes still wet, stammering: “But…
but…” I shook my head calmly: “Ciri, do you truly believe that if Her Majesty hated you, she would have agreed to let me become your servant?
That she would have granted your every request?
That she would have been so distraught when we were rescued?
Need I remind you that she couldn’t tear herself away from you the entire trip back while you were crying?” I brushed a strand of hair from her face and added: “Ciri, Her Majesty lost her daughter, her husband.
All she has left is you, and she is terrified terrified of losing the only thing she has left.
She’s strict because she knows how wonderful, brilliant, and talented you are.
She’s made mistakes, true, but everyone makes mistakes.
What separates growth from failure is knowing how to pick yourself back up and that’s exactly what she did.” Then I chuckled softly and added: “And Mousesack is a cheerful old man who adores you.
He still keeps the little wooden horse you gave him for his birthday in his room, and he has a portrait of you hanging right near where we secretly practice swordsmanship.” I smiled, taking in the vast plain stretched out before us: “Ciri, this world is cruel and relentless…
but it’s also fabulous, mysterious, and incredible!” With that, I shouted, “Giddyup!” and nudged the mare into a full gallop.
Ciri scrambled to hold on to me, her tears gradually drying as she gazed at the landscape bathed in moonlight.
I laughed as we flew across the plain: “Ciri, don’t go looking for the negative!
If you run into it, turn it into a lesson.
If someone looks down on you, become stronger, smarter, rise above them and above all, live your life!
Never let anyone tell you that you’re useless, because if you accept that, you’ve already lost!” I kept galloping across the plains, unaware that Ciri was staring at me, bursting into laughter, her tears of sadness transformed into tears of joy.
End of Flashback — POV Aiden I sighed as I recalled that memory.
If it could make her smile, that was enough.
I watched the moon cross the sky and quickly drifted off to sleep to avoid waking up late tomorrow.
It was the Harvest Festival, a rather special celebration.
But just as I expected to sink into my usual dreams, I found myself standing in a realm swallowed by darkness.
As I tried to walk, I realized something was wrong: looking down, I saw that scales had covered my hands, and sharp claws had replaced my fingernails.
Suddenly, a raven with amethyst eyes perched on my shoulder.
A cat with a gorgeous, jet-black coat purred, rubbing against my legs.
Then, a magnificent swallow with emerald eyes landed on my other shoulder.
All at once, the nature of the darkness shifted: a wave of intense cold surged through me, followed by a violent blizzard.
I covered my eyes, shielding the animals behind me, without even noticing that wings had already unfurled from my back to shelter the cat and the raven.
The swallow then transformed into a woman whose face was blurred, save for her piercing green eyes.
She took my hand and said something I couldn’t understand, and together, we stepped forward into the apocalyptic snowstorm.
Suddenly, I snapped awake.
I was breathless, exhausted, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I saw Mousesack and Ciri standing in front of me, looking deeply anxious.
Before I could say a word, Ciri wrapped her arms around me, her voice trembling with concern: “You wouldn’t wake up!
I came in, and there was ice everywhere around you!
I ran to get Mousesack to help, and you’re finally awake!” Looking around, I saw that the entire room indeed seemed encased in frost.
Without taking the time to offer explanations, Mousesack placed his hand on my head and uttered a few words in the Druidic tongue before speaking: “Your body is completely fine, and yet even I cannot understand what is happening here.
You aren’t like a mage who has awoken…
I detect no core of that nature inside you…” I looked at Mousesack while stroking Ciri’s hair to reassure her, and told him what I had seen.
His face turned pale, and he said gravely: “Listen to me carefully: do not repeat this to anyone.
I must discuss this with the Queen and my fellow druids.” Perhaps trying to lighten the mood, he added: “At least you and Ciri are starting to look alike look at your hair, there are a few white streaks.
It’s like you’re aging right before our eyes.” I gently pulled on a lock of my hair, and he was right: though mostly dark brown, a few white strands had appeared.
Perhaps worried about how I’d react, Ciri dried her tears and beamed at me: “Don’t worry, welcome to the white hair club!
There aren’t many of us, but we stick together!” I gave a soft laugh and ruffled her hair, making her jump back: “Stop it!
I did my hair for the festival!” Then, realizing she still needed to get ready, she dashed down the corridor: “The governess is going to yell at me again!” Mousesack and I shared a quiet laugh.
He placed a hand on my shoulder and said gently: “Go enjoy the festival, alright?
If anything feels off, like this morning, come see me right away.
I’m going to speak with Her Majesty; for now, don’t worry about a thing.
Your body is doing remarkably well exceptionally well, I’d say.
So rest easy, okay?” He turned to leave, adding over his shoulder: “Bring me back a souvenir from the festival, will you?
A bottle of spirits will do nicely the Queen is going to make me work late again.
What tyranny!
I’m an old man!” I chuckled softly and took a deep breath, trying to calm down, though a quiet anxiety still lingered in my chest.
I ran a hand through my hair.
Had I seen my reflection at that moment, I would have noticed my eyes briefly turn snow-white before returning to their normal color.
Then, I set off to get ready for the festival.
— POV Calanthe I frowned, resting my arms across my desk as I watched the capital city prepare for the festival.
In truth, this celebration meant a great deal to me: it reminded me of my late husband.
It was during these very festivities that that idiot, covered in blood after fighting off all the other suitors, had asked for my hand.
I sighed, still amused by the memory, my heart torn between grief and tenderness.
But I had no time to dwell on the past; I turned to Mousesack after what he had just disclosed to me and asked calmly: “Do you have an explanation?” Mousesack sighed: “Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it.
It’s as if Aiden carries something dormant within him a sword not yet drawn, as if he lacks the necessary strength, or something else entirely.
I’ve never encountered a case like his.” But that wasn’t what truly mattered to me.
I had grown fond of the boy, despite his grand airs.
In all honesty, I know this isn’t a matter of destiny, and even if it were, I wouldn’t care anymore.
Ciri is thriving; he is someone trustworthy, sharp enough to discern truth from falsehood, and possesses real military potential, according to Albert.
It seems she already excels in strategy without even realizing her own talent with a sword or her clarity of expression.
We still have time ahead of us, so what matters most to me is this: “Mousesack, spare me the detailed explanations.
I only want to know one thing: is he in danger?” Mousesack hesitated: “Truthfully, I don’t think so, based on what I could analyze.
In fact, it seems quite the opposite it appears to be immensely beneficial for him.
I wouldn’t even be surprised if he could wield magic one day.
What made me hesitate, in truth, is that the moment I tried to probe deeper, I felt as though something inside him stopped me dead in my tracks—like a sword suddenly pressed against my throat.
Had I pushed further…
I couldn’t tell you what would have happened.
But one thing is certain: he is in no danger.
Of that, I am sure.” I sighed, spotting Ciri skipping alongside Aiden as they headed toward the festival, and smiled softly.
At least she could still enjoy her childhood.
I cast a glance at the portrait of my daughter holding Ciri in her arms, then turned back to Mousesack: “Where do negotiations with Ard Skellig stand?
Can they send their warriors against Nilfgaard?
According to my scouts, they have no intention of stopping especially now that this new emperor intends to make Nilfgaard the sole ruling power.” Mousesack nodded: “In memory of your late husband, they will send ships, men, women, and resources for the war.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
Those damned Northern kings would love for me to sell off my granddaughter to consolidate their power.
In their dreams I’d rather watch them rot, and break the limbs of every single bastard who dares even imagine I would hand over my granddaughter.
But I kept those thoughts to myself, sat back in my chair, and said: “You may be dismissed, Mousesack.
If you learn anything more regarding Aiden’s condition, report to me at once.” He nodded and took his leave.
I turned my gaze toward the window, and without realizing it, began spinning my wedding ring around my finger.
Closing my eyes, I whispered a sorrowful sigh, alone in the quiet office: “I miss you…” And a grand firework exploded across the sky, illuminating my office just after those words left my lips.