To Trust a Witcher

The Black Knight

I kick a rock hard and watch it tumble through some snow, traveling a mere four inches forward.

Roach snorts unimpressed behind me.

"If you think it's that easy, why don't you try?" I tease her. She lowers her head and starts eating some leaves in response. Are horses supposed to eat leaves?

"I think I see why Geralt likes you as his travel companion." I crouch down to her, tilting my head as I graze my fingers over her rough coat. "You think if I'm as silent as you, he would be less bothered by my presence?"

She continues munching on the leaves.

"I think so too, Roach." I nod and fake a look of deep thought, before shaking my head out of our pretend conversation. "I'm going crazy, talking to a horse."

I stand up and scan the forest to see if there's something that would provide me with some entertainment while Geralt deals with getting the supplies from the town.

Geralt said it would be best if I stayed behind with Roach while he fetched a cloak. A witcher coming into the market with a girl accompanying him would draw too much attention, he reasoned. So here I am. Waiting for him.

Bored out of my mind.

Being bored is bad. Really bad. Because when I am bored, my brain provides me the entertainment, and anything that has to do with what my brain provides, is bad.

I hear a crack, and my head snaps to the left. A raven jumps from a bush and flies up, over a tree, and into the sky. If only I could fly away from my problems.

A black feather falls as it beats its wings. The wind curls around it, giving it some more time in the air, before it dips down again.

The feather floats downward steadily, except instead of landing on the ground, it lands on top of a black helmet.

My eyes widen as I choke.

The black knight is standing there.

He is staring down at me, a billowing black cape behind him. Fight or flight, who? I am frozen, but my heart is not. It is thrashing in my chest, trying to escape the prison formed by my ribs.

How did he find me? How did he get here? North of Kaedwen is as far as you can get from where Nilfgaard is reining.

I can't see his face. The shadows of the helmet he wears covers it. He slowly makes his way over to me, his steps crunching on the snow that had fallen earlier today, the white of the snow a sharp contrast to his Nilfgaardian armor. I shake my head, wishing this is just another nightmare.

But no, Roach is still behind me. I feel her fur underneath my fingertips. This is as real as you can get.

He unsheathes his sword. All I want to do is run, but I can't force my legs to move. I clutch onto Roach, hoping that she will do something, but she doesn't seem to sense the danger.

I choke as I see his steel sword has blood on its sharp edge. Cintrean blood.

A drop from his sword falls to the snow, coloring it red.

I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

I can't run.

The only thing I'm capable of is witnessing my death.

I'm a coward.

Geralt, where are you?

"Die," he whispers, and I close my eyes. I am wrong. I can't even look death in the eyes.

It is silent for a second, and then a raven crows, making me flinch and my eyes open by instinct.

The black knight is gone from my sight. Where did he go? A shuddered breath escapes my lip as I realize he will come at me again if I don't move now.