Nilfgaardian soldiers paced the corridor and inspected each room. They were meticulous. Every inch of every room was ransacked in their quest to find Geralt and Cirilla. She could hear items being thrown around through the paper-thin walls of the inn.
The creaking of the wooden floor let her know just how close it was until they found her. Each thud grew louder and closer which contributed to the ominous feeling around her. It was as if she were about to be executed. They were getting close. She heard their voices as they got closer. There was a sinister cruelness in the way they spoke and she shivered as a result.
Geralt motioned for her to hide as he drew his sword from its sheath. They had found Jaskier. She knew his screams from anywhere. The cries of her friend sent shivers down her spine. She finally understood why Geralt had been so insistent that she was not in the room that was the closest to the staircase. She did feel guilty, however, that Jaskier was there and it could have been her in that situation.
Was this the end? She had never expected her life to end at the hands of Nilfgaard. In fact, she had not even considered it a possibility until that day they arrived at her home. Her old home. When they ransacked it. That was the moment she finally understood the Continent-wide fear of the Nilfgaardians. They were brutal and murderous.
Tears fell down her face and she tried to steady her breathing. She could not even call it fear anymore. It was different. More chilling. It struck every chord in her body and sent a painful ice through her. This was not the way that she wanted to go. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the chaos around her. She wanted to run. Run away to somewhere safe. But there was nowhere safe anymore.
The clang of swords made her cover her ears and tremble. She had always thought of herself as brave but this was beyond her normal. At no point in her life did she expect her life to be entwined with magic. She was not born into a family with any yet every aspect of her life was now so woven with it.
Her heart raced and her head pulsed. She tried her hardest not to make a sound. It was difficult when all she wanted to do was whimper. Her heart raced and her head span. The room was moving as if she were drunk. She was shaken from her mind when Geralt roughly pulled her outside where Cirilla and an injured Jaskier met them.
Geralt had killed the soldiers inside of the inn and they were on the run again. Geralt led them through the forest. He knew how to navigate through them and pointed them in that direction as he went to the back of the group. He was on watch for any other soldiers. To protect them from any surprise attacks from the back.
They made it about an hour further into the forest until Jaskier's injuries slowed them down. He bled through the hastily wrapped bandages and complained of light-headedness. It was not a good sign and she had no idea what other injuries he may have sustained.
*
| A series of loud bangs and crashes roused him from his sleep. Something felt wrong. He had accompanied Geralt on many a hunt and the only time there was ever such noise was when the beast was nearby. He was too young, and far too pretty, to die.
His mortality scared him. Being around Geralt and Cirilla, fear generally escaped him. They did not fear death as much as he and it may be due to the magic that ran through them. Not being near them reminded him of that fact. He gulped as the Ghoul entered his room.
The vile creature threw open the door which sent shards and fragments of wood around the room. An ear-splitting scream left his mouth. It was a sound he was not aware that he could even make. There was something so haunting about how filled with terror he sounded.
He tried to fight down the rising bile as he visibly paled. It grabbed and tossed him into the wall. Adrenaline hit him and he tried to run. They ate corpses, after all. However, he did not make it very far until the Ghoul wrapped its cold hands around him and tried to choke him.
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With a Witcher
Fiksi PenggemarGeralt is a man of many talents. Being oblivious is one of them. A story in which kindness and compassion leads to heartache.