Silver Tongue - The Witcher | Geralt of Rivia

XVI

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"You asked me a couple of days ago what it was that I desired and searched for, what my whole goal was to this journey I've dragged you on.. I answered you honestly." Myrcella looked to Yennefer with slight surprise at her sudden need to talk. They had just been sitting in silence for a while, each reading their own book. "Yes?" She said it as a question, begging her friend to continue.

Yennefer looked as if she thought her words through for a bit before she spoke again. "When we first met, you told me you were running from destiny. I believe it's time you told me what this destiny you've been running from is." Myrcella sighed but smiled. It was not a surprise to her that this particular question was coming.

"Not what.. Who. My destiny is a person." Myrcella corrected her, her voice soft and hesitant. Yennefer furrowed her brows in confusion, "A person? How can you be so sure? Have you met them?" She asked, eager for more information.

It was no secret that Yennefer had thought about it often or that Myrcella's words to her in the cave, where they had first met, had stuck to her brain like feathers in tar. "I've met them.." Myrcella admitted, voice close to a whisper.

"Will you tell me how? You know I adore your stories Mercy." Yennefer begged her. Myrcella huffed amused at the sound of Renfri's old nickname for her, leaving the mage's lips. "Sure.. It all started when my kingdom, Highgarden, was attacked by Nilfgaard."

-

Wind blew in the tall green grass on the meadow and moved it like a wavy ocean, afraid of breaking the perfect reflection of the sky with white foam. It caressed every flower and treetop on its way making leaves fly like small butterflies every now and then.

Running through the meadow was a girl dressed in a long beautiful and light gown, her frame was small, but not small enough to be a child's however not big enough for a fully grown woman either.

You could see the panic on her face and hear the fear in her shrill screams as arrows narrowly missed her and whizzed by.

Myrcella was never one to run away, she would rather fight, but her dress and lack of a weapon prevented that. The corset was making it hard to breathe too and she could hear the men catching up. If they caught her they would drag her back to their king and inevitably let her suffer the same faith as her people after they'd had their way with her. 

Myrcella looked around for a way out and quickly deemed that she would be most likely to shake the men off if she went through the forest.

The forests on the continent where unsafe and home to many potentially dangerous creatures, and as far as she knew, kikimoras were responsible for the population control, so the men wouldn't dare follow her. Or at least she hoped they wouldn't, since only the dumbest of fools dared willingly picking fights with creatures like that.

Dodging low-hanging branches and jumping over roots hidden in the forest floor by leaves and moss, Myrcella looked around for a way out or a hiding place as she reached a broad stream that she was unable to cross.

"I got you~."

Myrcella gasped as she tripped and fell on her dress in an attempt to walk backwards to avoid the man who'd jumped out in front of her. The man pulled out his sword and lifted it over his head ready to strike down on her. Myrcella stared her death right in the eyes and accepted her fate. But as the sword was midway in the swing, the man stiffened, and a look of pain crossed his face before he fell to the ground revealing her saviour.