Embers

Alone

Eira ran through the mist, hardly able to see what was in front of her. She held one of her arms stretched out in front of her to keep the low branched of trees out of her face. Her other hand still clung onto the bard's.

"Eira, we can't see anything," she heard Jaskier from behind her.

The elemental slowed down, not because she wanted to, but because she thought Jaskier's voice seemed so far away to her. She came to a full stop and abruptly turned on her heels. The bard almost bumped into her and Eira her gaze flickered wildly around their surroundings.

The mist made it unable to see anything, but the sense of dread became almost too much to bear for her. Her magic hummed nervously inside her, the golden cord flickered into the direction the Witcher must be.

"Something's not right," she whispered again and Jaskier let go of her hand.

A panicked feeling took hold of her and Eira snapped her gaze into his direction.

"Don't let go," she said, her voice strong yet begging at the same time.

"Eira, slow down," he said, but to Eira it seemed the bard spoke slow. Too slow.

When she looked up at him, she saw the obvious worry in his eyes and Eira shook her head.

"No, Jaskier," she said while the elemental grabbed his hand again, "You don't understand. There's something wrong here. I don't know what. Can't you feel it?"

The bard looked at her, features serious and he nodded slowly.

"The mist is something I haven't seen before," he spoke. His words slowly reaching Eira's ears and it looked like his lips were moving sluggish.

"We need to stay together," she said, the sound of an owl in the distance reached their ears.

"Eira," Jaskier grabbed her hand again, pulled her a bit closer to him. "Everything seems to go slow."

The elemental nodded, not replying to the bard since she felt the sudden tug on the magical, golden cord again.

"We need to find Geralt," she spoke up, turning again and walked into the direction of where the magic told her to go.

The forest was a maze. They couldn't even see the nearest tree and more than often, Eira or Jaskier tripped over some roots or low growth. Except for the hooting of the owl in the distance, there wasn't any sound to be heard around them. Which made Eira's heartbeat speed up frantically.

"Geralt," she yelled into the endless mist.

It seemed to swallow up her words, just to be returned to her own ears. An echo that didn't reach the Witcher. Because something didn't want her to get to Geralt.

"Something's holding us back," she spoke loud.

It took some time before the bard replied, as if he only heard everything a few minutes later.

"We should go back. Geralt will be fine," there was fear in his voice.

Something that Eira could not blame him for. Fear had settled in her stomach and bones by now.

"Eira," her name came as a whisper around them. "Eira."

The pair stood still and for a moment, Eira thought it was Geralt. Something was off by his voice. It sounded like him, yet there was something in there that didn't fit the Witcher's timbre.

It was sudden and fast when Jaskier let go of her hand. It made Eira spin around to face him. His beautiful eyes wide with fear and the bard held his stomach.