And yet... Here we are

Hugs

Yennefer placed the amulet around her neck and forced herself to stand. It rejuvenated at least some of her energy, if nothing else. White orbs sparked in her hands as she muttered a healing incantation over the bard. She held her hands above him creating an encasing of transparent white around him.

"How long can you hold it?" Geralt asked quickly as he watched Yennefer waiver on her feet for a moment.

"Perhaps an hour. Maybe more, maybe less. It's hard to say." Yennefer said.

Jaskier writhed against both the slab he rested on in the actual world and the snow-covered ground in his memory. His head ached. It felt as though it would explode in his skull. He forced himself to push himself up on his arms. Blood fell from his nose. His limbs shook. Slowly, he pulled up his legs under him. Carefully, he sat back on his heels. His eyes focused on Geralt, or rather the distorted version of his friend. The longer he didn't answer the question of what he wished, the more his head ached.

With what little strength he had left, Jaskier stood. He put his hand on the wall of water to steady himself. A shot of energy shot through his arm. The bard winced. Ciri had said it was only a memory. He shouldn't have felt anything because of that. Right?

The pain in his head had begun to lay dormant thanks to Yennefer's attempts in the actual world, though the bard was unaware. He pushed his hands against the water as he tried to push out of the hurricane that he stood in. Energy shot up his arm in painful jolts of electricity. His arms ached from the strength he employed. He gave a gasp of relief when his arms pushed through only to find the rest of his body faced with the same task.

Perhaps if this was more than just a memory, perhaps if he could actually influence his surroundings, the Witcher would be able to help. The bard extended a hand. He squirmed as he tried to get the rest of his body freed. He put his hand against the wall in hopes of pushing with his arms, only to sink it back into the other side. When he had pulled it back to freedom, he was panting in exhaustion.

"Geralt," the bard prayed for help.

He put his feet behind him as he began to push his head and torso through the electrifying current. He held his breath, in fear of water entering his lungs. When his head finally broke through, he choked on the air as it entered his lungs. Geralt had begun to form into a whole being rather than a mere optical illusion that transferred places at random. Yennefer stood beside him.

"Geralt!" Jaskier called as he found his body trapped. "Geralt, a little help!"

Helplessly, he looked back at the Witcher who stood in front of him. Neither of them moved. More blood poured from Jaskier's nose. He hung his head in defeat. There was no way out of this. Yennefer had been right; he was just a bard.

His life force is fading, Geralt.

The words came on the wind from a distance he couldn't see. Yennefer? He glanced up, but the sorceress hadn't moved from where she stood on the Skellege ground. 

Save him Yen.

I don't know if I can. I'm weakened; I think he's given up.

The real world began to blend with his memory. Jaskier could see Yennefer standing above him. Her hands glowed white. They sparked occasionally before she got it fully under control again. The sights faded in time with each other. The change seemed to be triggered by each heartbeat that reverberated in his head. 

I can't lose him.

Geralt's voice rang in his ears again. Only now he was seeing both the Geralt on the Skellege ground and the one who sat beside him. He wasn't sure which version said it. He didn't think he cared.