ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ᴍᴀɢᴇ 一 ɢᴇʀᴀʟᴛ ᴏꜰ ʀɪᴠɪᴀ

𝕏𝕏𝕀. 𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕤?

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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ᴏɴᴇ

ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ?

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Maybe you had to leave in order to really miss a place and maybe you had to travel to figure out how beloved your starting point was.

Eleanora Sarnorin missed home. 

       She missed the bright sunflowers that were planted around the castle. She missed playing with the town's children, running around through the muddy kingdom land. She missed Charles, the person who was more than just a guard, but a true friend. She missed Faya's constant fussing, telling her to pick her clothing off the floor or to stop tracking her dirty boots across the clean carpet. She missed her uncle Irvin, the King who was too kind for his own good. She missed Johnathan's vulgar vocabulary and their end-less arguments.

God, she hoped Johnathan was okay.

Eleanora missed Kattegat more than anything in the world right now.

       But in the strangest way possible, the young princess had a little piece of home with her; it always reminded her why she loved Kattegat in the first place, but why she needed to leave as well.

       Perhaps that was the reason why Eleanora stayed with Geralt, and why she hasn't left him yet. After all, as the saying goes: 

"Maybe you had to leave in order to really miss a place."

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       The vast, green forest seemed almost never-ending; there wasn't a sign of civilization for miles and the dynamic duo couldn't help but steal glances at each other worriedly. Their slow pacing and aching muscles only further proved how long they've been traveling for and how desperately they needed a break. The scorching heat from the setting sun didn't aid their situation either. Harold and Roach seemed to enjoy the lack of extra weight as the two horses galloped up ahead and happily spent some alone time together, away from their brooding riders.

"Geralt..."

"Just a bit further."

       Eleanora heavily sighed before slowly nodding her head, not having the energy to argue anyways. Either way, she knew he was right: the darkening skies and the distant howls meant danger, and it wasn't safe. They needed to find someplace fast before something else found them first. 

       Eleanora chewed her bottom lip nervously as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Geralt, please."

       "The next town's nearby." The witcher's eyes never strayed away from the path ahead, refusing to directly look at the young woman. Her tired eyes would have immediately convinced him to make camp right then and there, but Geralt would rather die from exhaustion before letting that happen.