The runes spinning above the table began to glow brighter, casting shifting, flickering patterns of light across the stone walls of Istredd's sanctum. Alina could feel the magic prickling against her skin, an almost electric hum that resonated in her chest. She swallowed hard, steeling herself as the ancient symbols swirled faster and faster.
Istredd's hands moved with practiced precision, guiding the flow of power with murmured incantations. The energy in the room thickened, making it harder to breathe. Alina's pulse raced. She glanced at Geralt and Yennefer, but neither of them seemed phased. They were focused, watchful, as though they were ready for anything.
Finally, with a flourish, Istredd thrust his hands downward. The glowing runes froze in place, suspended in midair. In the center of the table, a single point of light coalesced, expanding outward until it formed a rippling, mirror-like surface. Alina's breath hitched as she leaned closer, peering into the strange portal.
At first, it showed nothing but darkness. Then, faint images began to emerge—blurred and indistinct, like shadows moving beneath water. A faint hum filled the air, the same pulsing sound that had echoed through her apartment the night she was pulled into this world.
"What is this?" Alina asked, her voice trembling.
"The threads of fate." Istredd replied. "Your thread, specifically. It's bound to others, tangled in ways I've never seen before. But this..." He gestured toward the portal. "This will show us what lies at the heart of it."
The shadows shifted again, resolving into clearer shapes. Alina saw flashes of faces she didn't recognize—stern, unfamiliar figures cloaked in armor, their expressions grim. A ruined battlefield came into view, littered with broken weapons and bodies. Then, the scene changed again, this time showing a figure cloaked in shadow, their hand outstretched as a blinding light erupted from their palm.
Alina's stomach twisted. She had no idea what any of it meant, but the sense of foreboding was impossible to ignore. "That doesn't exactly look encouraging." she muttered.
"It's not." Istredd said grimly. "These are glimpses of possible futures—ones tied to your presence here. And none of them bode well."
"Then what do we do?" Alina asked, her voice rising in panic. "How do we stop it?"
"That depends." Yennefer said, stepping closer. Her violet eyes locked onto Alina's, unyielding. "Do you have the will to face it? To face them?"
"Them?" Alina repeated, dread creeping into her voice.
"The Weavers," Yennefer said. "They're not just forces of nature. They're entities—ancient, powerful, and not inclined to mercy. They've been watching you since you arrived, testing you, waiting to see what you'll do."
"And if they decide I'm not up to their standards?" Alina asked.
"Then they'll remove you." Istredd said bluntly. "Permanently."
The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, Alina couldn't speak. The weight of everything—the strange magic, the cryptic visions, the looming threat of the Weavers—pressed down on her like a stone. She wasn't a hero. She wasn't brave or strong. She was just a girl who liked playing video games and drinking overpriced coffee. What chance did she have against forces like this?
But then she looked at Geralt. He wasn't watching the portal or the runes or even Istredd. He was watching her. His expression was calm, but there was something else there, too—something she couldn't quite name. Trust? Faith? Whatever it was, it steadied her, grounding her in a way she hadn't expected.
"I'll face them." Alina said finally, her voice firm despite the fear bubbling beneath the surface. "Whatever it takes, I'll face them."
Yennefer nodded approvingly. "Good. That's the first step."
Istredd arched an eyebrow. "Brave words. Let's hope you can back them up." He turned back to the glowing portal, his hands weaving intricate patterns in the air. "If we're to give you any chance at survival, we'll need more than courage. We'll need answers."
The images in the portal shifted again, this time focusing on a crumbling tower perched on a jagged cliffside. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the structure in stark relief. The sight of it sent a chill down Alina's spine.
"That's where you need to go." Istredd said, his tone grave. "The Tower of Echoes. It's a nexus of power, one of the few places where the veil between worlds is thin enough to reach the Weavers directly."
"Let me guess." Alina said dryly. "It's incredibly dangerous, and I'll probably die."
"Something like that." Istredd said with a faint smirk.
"Great." Alina muttered, rubbing her temples. "Any other cheerful news you'd like to share?"
"There is one thing." Yennefer said, her expression serious. "You won't be alone."
Alina looked up, confused. "What do you mean?"
"You'll need allies." Yennefer continued. "Ones who can help you navigate the challenges ahead. And you've already made a few, whether you realize it or not."
Geralt stepped forward, his golden eyes meeting hers. "You've got me." he said simply.
Alina felt a lump rise in her throat. She managed a small, shaky smile. "Thanks. I think."
"And me." Yennefer added, her tone firm. "You may be an anomaly, but you're our anomaly now. And I don't intend to let the Weavers have their way without a fight."
For the first time since her arrival in this world, Alina felt a flicker of hope. It was small and fragile, but it was there—a tiny light in the darkness.
"Then let's do this." she said, straightening her shoulders. "Let's find the Tower of Echoes and figure out how to stop whatever's coming."
As the portal dissolved and the glow of the runes faded, Istredd gave her a measured look. "Remember." he said, his voice low. "Knowledge comes with a price. Be sure you're willing to pay it."
Alina met his gaze, her heart pounding. "I'll pay whatever it takes."
The storm was coming, and there was no turning back now.