POV Aiden A few hours earlier, the army had marched out toward the plain, at the border of Nazair territory under Nilfgaardian occupation.
Another part of our forces had been sent to the Mettina border, in case Nilfgaard decided to open a second front to catch the main army from behind.
Setting up camp had been simple enough: the regular soldiers’ tents sat lower down, and the higher you climbed, the closer you got to the high command’s tents.
Queen Calanthe, for her part, had stayed back at the castle from what Mousesack had hinted, she was preparing some kind of dramatic gesture, in case things went south.
I was in the command tent area, sitting on a makeshift cot, letting my hand hover over the fire, enjoying the crackle of logs splitting in the flames.
It gave me time to think.
Honestly, I didn’t even know myself whether I’d survive.
From what I knew of the first war between Cintra and Nilfgaard, even the king who fought alongside Cintra’s finest soldiers had ended up dead, caught by a surprise cavalry charge.
That cavalry had later been wiped out, securing Cintra’s victory: despite the enemy’s superior gear and horsemen, Cintra’s army was simply better on foot.
The king’s death, against the annihilation of the enemy cavalry.
Was that really a victory?
Or a bitter one?
After all, it had bought Cintra years of peace but at the cost of the king’s life.
I sighed.
Honestly, I couldn’t say I would have acted any differently I think I too would have chosen to fight alongside my men.
I shook my head, amused at my own thoughts.
Seriously, me, leading a battalion someday?
Get it together, Aiden.
That’s when my tent flap opened.
The commander walked in, dressed casually, a bottle and cups in hand.
He grinned widely, sat down on a stool, and asked: “So, how you doing, champ?” I sighed.
“Honestly, I can’t even tell if I’m terrified or excited.” He laughed, set the cups on the small table, downed one in one go before pouring himself another, and said: “I get it, you know.
I’ll always remember my first battle it was alongside King Eist Tuirseach.” I turned my cup in my hand, curious.
“I know the king was a great warrior, but I don’t know much about him.” He gave a small laugh, gaze fixed on his cup, a wistful look on his face.
“Eist… Eist was an excellent husband, and an excellent warrior, but a poor ruler, let’s just say.
For him, making a real friend usually meant a good punch to the face that’s exactly how he and I became brothers-in-arms.” He let himself get lost in the memory.
“I remember it like it was yesterday.
I was still young, full of warrior dreams.
Eist was recruiting men from Skellige to help Queen Calanthe plenty mocked him for it, but the moment someone tried, he’d settle it with his fists.
Bit by bit, from settling his arguments that way me included we ended up respecting him.
Not for some leader’s charisma.
For that warrior’s confidence he carried.” — Flashback POV Commander Albert, aboard the ships heading to Cintra, years earlier, in the middle of a storm I stormed forward, still furious, my jaw aching from the punch that damned Eist had just landed on me, not caring about the ship’s lurching or the foreman’s shouts ordering the men to row.
I found Eist at the bow, arms crossed, that confident smile still plastered on his face.
His black hair, his brown eyes burning with drive and self-assurance that particular confidence of a man who knows exactly what he’s fighting for had always made me a little envious, while also making me proud to follow him.
I clapped him on the shoulder.
“Eist!
What’s got you staring at the horizon like that, there’s nothing to see!” He laughed, a man overflowing with life, and clapped me back on the shoulder.
“Albert, my brother, it’s fine that you don’t get it.
But I’m staring at that exact spot because I know Calanthe’s looking in the same direction, right now.” Those words pulled out a question that had been nagging at me for a long time why would a man who could easily have been adored back in Skellige, surrounded by prestige and women, want to throw his life away for the mainlanders and their damned politics?
“Eist, why do you do this?
Why sacrifice so much for one woman?” I must have hit a nerve: his smile vanished, and he turned to look at me, suddenly dead serious.
“Calanthe isn’t just some woman.
You want to know why?” He turned his eyes back to the horizon.
“A man’s a simple thing, you know.
You think people say a man’s worst weakness is a woman just for the fun of it?
It’s because it’s true.
When a man loves a woman, and she loves him back the same way, that man becomes his woman’s weapon.
He’d burn the whole world down, if she asked him to.” He burst out laughing.
“Maybe I’m crazy!
But I don’t give a damn!
I’m madly in love with that woman, and I always will be!
You don’t get it yet, brother, but I promise you, one day, when you find a woman to love, you’ll understand just how crazy a man can go for her.
Hahaha!” I laughed with him.
“I highly doubt it.” End of flashback — POV Aiden He laughed softly.
“And yet, he was right.
When we arrived to defend Cintra, I saw, for the first time, a man fight with one single desire: to protect what his woman loved.
That’s exactly when he’d draw the most people to him being a leader isn’t just about charisma and brains.” He looked at me seriously.
“A leader is someone you can trust your life to without a moment’s hesitation.
A leader is someone who, if he tells you to go kill some guy, you can do it with your eyes closed, because you know he’ll protect you in return because you’ve entrusted him with your life.
Trust and loyalty, that’s what matters most, Aiden.” I stayed quiet after that story.
He patted my shoulder.
“I’ll say it again, the way he told me: Eist was right.
When I met my wife, when we had an incredible daughter together, I became a man who could kill anything for them.
You can’t understand it yet.
But someday, when you fall in love with a woman or maybe several, who knows you’ll understand just how fearsome love can make a man.” Then he got up, ruffling my hair on his way out.
“Aiden, I promise to defend you.
You will not die here, not while I’m around.
Now drink up, it’s dwarven spirits.
Sleep well, tomorrow’s going to be a rough day.” He left the tent, leaving behind the distant laughter of soldiers trying to ease the mood, mixed with the notes of an instrument and voices singing to soothe the fear hanging in the air.
I sighed he’d given me a lot to think about.
But was he right?
Would I really become that way, for whoever I might love someday?
One thing was certain, in any case: I would protect Ciri.
I downed the spirits in one go, wincing at how bitter it was, set the cup down, and lay down to sleep.
— POV Aiden inside the dream Where am I?
I looked around: it looked like a throne room, but finished with extraordinary craftsmanship, deeply elvish in style.
I couldn’t move.
Turning my eyes toward the throne, I saw a tall, very pale man, clad in armor, handing a goblet to an elf of striking beauty, wearing a crown.
The crowned elf drank from the goblet, then suddenly dropped it, hands flying to his throat.
The other elf leaned in close to his ear, and I heard his voice, cold and dripping with malice: “The king is dead.
Long live the king.” The elf king collapsed, dead.
Just as a smile began forming on the assassin’s lips, he turned his head toward me, as if surprised to see me there, and smiled without stepping any closer.
“So, he didn’t give up after all.
I thought that bloodline was dead.” He gave a small laugh, picked up the fallen king’s crown, snapped it between his fingers, and went on: “It will be mine.
Zireael will be mine.
And you, Ceanndraig, there’s nothing you can do about it.” Then, as if pulled away, I was suddenly ripped from that place.
— POV Aiden I woke with a start, hand on my chest, breathing hard, drenched in sweat.
I tried to make sense of what had just happened that wasn’t just a dream.
Who was that elf?
Who was this “Ceanndraig”?
Was he looking at me?
And what did that word even mean?
And who was “Zireael”?
None of it made any sense.
I didn’t have time to think it over any further: Commander Albert stepped into the tent and said: “Come on, Aiden, meeting time get dressed and come.” Then he stepped right back out.
I shook my head.
If I could have seen my own reflection right then, I’d have noticed my eyes glowing again one white as snow, the other blue as ice before fading back to normal.
I got up, gave myself a solid slap across the face, and told myself: “Focus on the war for now, Aiden.
You’ll ask Mousesack your questions later.” Then I left the tent, without noticing that a few more strands of my hair had turned white, or that a patch of ground around me had frosted over.
Outside, I saw the soldiers forming up into squads, each with their own battalion leader some checking their weapons, others praying.
If it gave them any comfort, good for them.
Arriving at the command tent, I found most of the officers already there, including Commander Albert, who nodded.
“Right, now that everyone’s here, let’s go over the attack plan.” A few hours later, we were on horseback atop a hill, alongside Commander Albert and his trusted men.
Nilfgaard’s army stretched out across the far end of the plain.
He gave a scornful little laugh.
“Look at them, Aiden.
Seems like they only know one color.” One of the soldiers snickered.
“Maybe their wives only wear black too.
Maybe they piss black too, the way they’re always dressed the same!” The others burst out laughing, and even I couldn’t help but smile.
But the commander raised his sword surely amplified by some magic artifact, because his voice suddenly boomed far louder than usual: “Listen up, brave soldiers!
Today, we’re going to show these men in black just how brave and fearsome the soldiers of Cintra are, same as their queen!
You’re not just fighting for your country you’re fighting for your families, for your children, for the very future of Cintra!
So tell me, soldiers: are you going to surrender?!” A collective roar burst out from thousands of throats: “NO!” “DEATH TO THE NILFGAARDIANS!” Horns sounded from both sides almost at once, and the two armies charged straight at each other.
Within just a few minutes, Cintra’s edge was already showing, thanks to our turtle formation.
Then I spotted a squad of riders swing wide around our lines, heading straight for the commanders.
Commander Albert let out one last laugh.
“Come on, let’s show these Nilfgaardians the strength of Cintra!” He charged in without hesitation, his men right behind him, straight toward the enemy cavalry.
My heart pounded hard, caught between stress, fear, and adrenaline.
I galloped alongside the rest of the men on the mare the queen had given me.
I saw Commander Albert rise up in his saddle, then leap off his horse to slam two men to the ground, killing them instantly.
No time to think: I barely managed to parry a rider’s strike that could have killed me.
As I kept fighting him, my mare landed a solid kick to the enemy horse’s head, throwing it off balance I took the opening to aim for the rider’s neck and cut it clean.
He dropped, dead on impact.
I still couldn’t get used to it.
No time to dwell on it either: another fight broke out right away, and for hours all we heard was the clash of blades and the screams of the dying.
But we were clearly gaining the upper hand.
I fought most of the time near Commander Albert, who fought like a raging bear you’d have called him a berserker.
He came up beside me, drenched in his enemies’ blood, a few light wounds visible.
“So, Aiden, having fun?!” I shook my head, a smile on my lips, cutting down another Nilfgaardian soldier, my own armor just as soaked in blood, sweat running down my neck.
“Commander, I’d honestly rather have a good b…” I didn’t get to finish that sentence about a nice hot bath: something froze everyone in place all at once.
Massive fireballs shot up into the sky, and in a dead silence that fell over everyone, those magical projectiles rained down on Cintra’s army.
Almost immediately, heavy cavalry surged forward and began slaughtering our routed infantry thousands fell within seconds.
What snapped me out of my daze was Commander Albert’s furious scream: “Damned mages!
Neutrality my ass, yeah right!” He turned to me, smiled softly, ruffled my hair one last time.
“Forgive me, Aiden.
Looks like the queen was right, after all.” I didn’t have time to answer: I felt arms hauling me roughly onto my mare, and the commander slapped her rear to send her galloping away, far from the battlefield.
He shouted at two of his men: “Louis!
Eric!
Protecting Aiden that’s your final order!” Both men nodded and galloped alongside me.
I clenched my jaw to hold back tears as we fled.
— POV Commander Albert I smiled slightly, watching Aiden ride off, even as I frowned seeing two heavy cavalrymen take off after him.
Just as I was about to react, I saw the enemy’s heavy cavalry bearing down on my own squad.
I sighed softly I had to trust the kid.
He’d make it.
I smiled, proud.
I’d lived a full life.
Anna, I’m coming to join you we’ll drink with our ancestors.
And you too, Eist, we’ll see each other again.
Still smiling, I murmured: “Aiden, you’ll make it.
You and Ciri I know it you’re going to change the course of this world’s history.” Then, laughing, I tore off my armor, standing bare-chested, drew both my axes, and shouted to what remained of my men: “Brothers!
Let’s meet up for a drink with our ancestors!” They roared alongside me, and we threw ourselves at the cavalry for one last dance.
— POV Aiden We were in a bad spot.
Louis had just been cut down by an arrow dead.
The two riders kept chasing us relentlessly.
Eric fought as best he could, but an arrow struck him square in the head, killing him instantly.
I kept galloping, dodging the cavalry’s arrows as best I could, but I could feel I wasn’t going to make it.
Ciri… I shook my head and yanked hard on the reins, sending my mare skidding sideways through the dirt, catching one of the riders off guard.
Thanks to the momentum, I took his head clean off.
The last rider, startled, stopped short and nocked an arrow to his bow.
In that same instant, I hurled my sword straight at him it pierced clean through his skull.
But it was already too late: his arrow had been loosed, and I watched it fly toward me in slow motion.
Dodge.
DODGE.
DODGE, DODGE, DODGE… Then, all at once, I felt like I’d been teleported, and I crashed violently, mare and all, into the stables of Cintra’s royal castle my eyes glowing again, one white as snow, the other blue as ice.
Had I… teleported?
But before I could say anything…