The Dessarin Valley, stretching from where it began, sheltered in the shadows of the Sword Mountains all the way to it's end on the western edge of the High Forest, was beautiful. Rolling hills, lush forests, rivers and fields aplenty and, despite being a part of the Savage Frontier, it was considered safe to the point of bordering on secure. Despite this safety, however, much of it's reaches were sparsely populated (if populated at all), and so there was no one else to witness the hole in reality that was torn in the air of a beautiful glen within Kryptgarden Forest. A hole that rather roughly disgorged an ashen haired young woman face first into the forest floor.
Pounding hoofbeats and ethereal warcries in the Elder Speech filled the air for the briefest of moments before being cut off as Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon (far better known as Ciri) rolled onto her back and violently slammed her latest magical portal shut with a sharp swipe of her hand, leaving the Wild Hunt dimensions away from herself.
Safe again. For now, at any rate. She sighed to herself, resting her head on the grass for a long moment before rolling to her feet and dusting herself off as best she could. Dressed in nothing more than a white tunic and light leather armor, stained with blood and sporting more than a few bruises, she looked nothing at all like noblewoman with a half-dozen titles or thrones to her name. She certainly looked nothing like the heiress to the Empire of Nilfgaard. Which was fine with her, she had no interest in acknowledging her relation to Emhyr var Emreis if she could possibly ignore it. The bastard had slaughtered the people of her beloved home of Cintra and caused the chain of events that led to her grandmother's death. As far as she was concerned, he and his entire damn nation could be consumed by fire and water and she would watch with glee.
But that was a fantasy for another time. What was important right now was to figure out where she was, and how get herself some supplies and decent sleep while she could. She had little in the way of hope that the Hunt wouldn't find her yet again, but hopefully she had jumped far enough (and randomly enough) that they would take a while in finding the right realm.
Perhaps she should jump again, just in case? On the one hand, that would potentially make it harder for them to track her. On the other, if she was unlucky (a sadly common theme in her life, honestly), she might end up travelling to a world where they or their allies were present. No, it was probably better to stay where she was, wait for them to catch up yet again, before departing. It was a strategy that had worked just fine so far, and she saw no reason to risk fucking herself over by changing it.
Running the fingers of her right hand through her hair and wincing as they caught in some of the tangles there (it had been weeks since she had last had a proper, hot-water-with-soap-and-combs bath), she looked around herself for any sign of habitation. Not finding it, she started trudging east in the hopes of finding someone or something besides trees and psychotic elven slavers that wanted to turn her into a broodmare.
She walked for hours, her course only wavering from it's directness when she had no other choice, until she finally emerged from the shelter of the trees and found herself looking across a gently sloping plain to a small farming village perhaps a mile distant. Not feeling remotely interested in walking that much further, not after trekking through the forest, and highly interested in the potential for an inn and all that came with it, she looked for a secluded area outside the village and pulled out a thread of her magic.
Her body dissolved into grey-and-lightning-white dust in a heartbeat of time, and an instant later she was casually rounding the edge of a farmhouse to amble down the road towards the perimeter of the village proper. There were other people out and about, moving to and fro, and she could even see a handful of men and women in worn armor keeping watch at the gates, basically ignoring the majority of the people who passed them by as they chatted with one another and kept an eye on the plains around their home.
There was soft but deep and resounding thud, like muted thunder, above and behind her, and suddenly she found herself standing in the shade. Spinning around, one hand going to her sword, she looked up to see a massive, writhing shape in the clouds for all of an instant before a dark blur lashed down at her. She reached for her magic, faster than a thought, but the blur was faster still. It struck home, and she was consumed by an instant of pseudo-motion. She felt herself be broken apart, consumed almost, before she was suddenly somewhere else entirely.
A cell of some kind, coffinlike in size, and no matter how she struggled she could not break free. Nor, to her horror, would her magic answer her call. She was trapped, bound and helpless, and from what she could see through the glass-like windows of her prison, she was not the only one. There were rows of prisons like her own, things that looked remarkably like pea pods, as absurd as the thought was. Even as she watched, clouds of black something flickered in many of them, reconstituting into men and women of varying heights and sizes and ages and races. Human, elves, dwarves, from little boys and girls to wizened elders.
All as helpless and trapped as she was.
Then it came into view.
A monstrosity, well over six feet in height, its cranium elongated, it's nose-less face descending into four long, writhing tentacles, dressed in oddly-regal robes with a tall, almost ornate collar rising from it's shoulders. It gazed around the room, looking over those within the pods with deliberate, meticulous care, and Ciri gasped as it's eyes finally met her own. They were…empty. No contempt, no excitement, no hate or fear or greed. Apathy, pure and unadulterated apathy. To this entity, she and everyone else in the room meant nothing at all. It gestured with one large, claw-like hand, and what Ciri had thought was nothing more than an oddly bulbous architectural piece in the center of the room opened like a flower, disturbingly meat-like petals pulling back to reveal a pool of lightly glowing liquid. It reached within, clearly grasping for something with those long fingers, and Ciri swallowed heavily at the sight of the small, pale worm writhing slightly in it's grip.
It approached her slowly, the glass covering her face vanishing at a gesture from it's free hand while the one bearing the worm rose towards her face. She struggled, writhed against her bonds, spitting curses and threats in every language she knew, but it was futile and mattered not at all to her captor. The worm drew ever closer, and to her terror the worm reacted to that closeness. It's head dipped and swung towards her, four tiny, thread-like tentacles stretching out in some demented perversion of a child reaching for it's mother…and then it's mouth opened. It's mouths, three rows of gums and sharp, needle-like teeth as it hissed faintly, and it darted forward.
She screamed as it flowed over and into her eye, she howled as she felt it wend it's way towards her brain, and she collapsed in her bonds as the pain and the violation robbed her of consciousness.
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"Come now, my dear, do wake up. As beautiful as you are, I've never been particularly fond of watching women sleep." A voice penetrated the haze of Ciri's unconsciousness, a pulse of energy rushing hot through her veins, and her head snapped up, eyes flying open, as she gasped sharply in response. Standing outside her pod was a man, a brown-eyed bald man wearing a simple, dark brown tunic alongside yellow-white pants and a grin of cruel delight. "Well now, there are those beautiful emerald eyes of yours! Not as appealing as when combined with fiery red hair, like that Merigold girl, but silver-white hair is rare enough to be appealing in it's own way, especially when combined with eyes of a nice crimson or burgundy…"
Ciri stared at him, wondering if she was hallucinating or if this was some sort of delusion forced upon her by the parasite inside her head (if the damn thing hadn't killed her and she was making up some sort of nonsense as her life slipped away), and he rolled his eyes with a huff.
"Really, I would have thought your father would mention me at some point. Gaunter O'Dimm, deal-maker, wish-granter, and mirror-merchant extraordinaire." He grumbled, introducing himself with a flourishing bow, and Ciri swallowed convulsively, eyes widening in fear, and the man-shaped monster before her grinned in pleasure at the sight of it. "Ah, I see that he has! Well, hopefully he wasn't too unkind. Really, dear Geralt is someone I might even consider a friend, for all the times he and I have had a nice chat! I would never dream of harming his beloved daughter. And certainly not when you make things so interesting! Like ending up on this plane, for example! I'm not entirely sure how you managed it, but you're not even in one of the Spheres! A different realm of reality, entirely unrelated to those we call home! Remarkable, simply remarkable, and delightful beyond belief!"
To his credit, he did seem genuinely delighted, and without any of the cruelty from before, but Ciri wasn't sure that she bought it. Her father had been very clear about how much trust should be placed in the entity before her, for while he kept to the letter of his word and his contracts, the spirit often left much to be desired.
"You mean you didn't arrange this?" she asked, the words slipping from her mouth before she could stop them, and he looked briefly affronted, placing a hand to his chest theatrically. Helplessness and fear driving her aggravation, she continued. "Geralt told me you like to play games and you just told me that you like it when I make things 'interesting'. Wouldn't this be something interesting?"
"Of course it's interesting, but I would never put you into this sort of position! Didn't I already say I wouldn't dream of harming you?" Gaunter protested, frowning at her in disappointment. "Really now, you mortals are always so suspicious! I swear to you that I had nothing whatsoever to do with your arrival here, thank you very much! I'm here to help you!"
"…why?" Ciri asked, feeling not in the least reassured by his words. In fact, her suspicion was only increasing. Gaunter didn't help people. Even if the deals he made could be beneficial in the short term, the hidden clauses and cruel, ironic hooks were always present.
"Well, as I said, your little conflict with those Aen Elle riders is terribly entertaining to watch, and I would hate for the fun to end. And, of course, there is my fondness for Geralt and that lovely sorceress of his -he really has quite the collection of women after him, did you know?-, so it's really only reasonable on a number of levels that I lend you a hand." He responded, before clapping his hands and rubbing them together. "Now then, I'm perfectly happy to help you escape this thoroughly unpleasant situation you find yourself in, with but a few minor side effects -nothing terrible, I promise!- if you, in return, continue being interesting and entertaining for me! Oh, and answer some questions for me, of course. That part is very important."
"What kind of side effects." Ciri asked slowly, not particularly interested in making a deal with this being, but not particularly interested in suffering…whatever it was that her captors intended to do with her. Judging by the parasite-in-brain situation, it was probably nothing close to good, or even tolerable. "And what kind of questions?"
"Oh, don't you work that silver-haired head of yours, girl, the side effects are nothing in the face of your current situation, especially that worm curled up in your brain!" he brushed her worries off, conjuring a chair and sitting down in it as a lap-desk and a scroll appeared in one hand and a quill appeared in the other, entirely fake glasses appearing on his nose. Altogether, he looked every inch a professor, which was honestly disturbing, given she knew what he really was. "Now, first: if given the option between being a vampire -Higher of course, dear, not one of the ratty minor variants. Filthy things!- or being bound to a powerful devil's will in exchange for power, which would you pick? And why, lass, make sure to tell me why."
"Vampire." Ciri answered instantly and firmly, without an inch of hesitation or doubt. He nodded, jotting the answer down, before looking at her expectantly. Taking a moment to martial instinct into verbalized thought, she continued. "Vampires…even if I was a vampire, craving blood from and dominance over those around me, it is still something under my control. It is still something internal, something that I am not beholden to, anymore than I am beholden to a need for food or water. Being bound to a devil…yes, I'm sure it would give great power, but it would be a source of external control, external influence, external manipulation. I would rather be hungry every day of my life than risk being at the whim of something ancient, powerful, and malicious that cared not one whit for me or those I care about."
The irony that she was saying this to perhaps the most malicious entity in all of the Spheres did not escape her for an instant, but she wasn't going to change her answer. Not when she meant every word. Besides, Gaunter was a known commodity, an evil that her parents were more than familiar with. She would take a known and (relatively) understood leash over one that was otherwise every day of the week and twice on Sunday.
"Mhm, quite right, quite right. Smart girl. Making deals with dastardly devils and evil entities never ends well, you know. Quite dangerous, quite tragic." Gaunter nodded in agreement, adding her reasoning onto his scroll, and Ciri barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his tone of solemn approval. Honestly, he could probably be funny if not for, well, everything else about him. "Let's see, next question…no, not her…not her either…him, perhaps? No, no, best not irritate a local deity by breaking her pet, the girl doesn't need that kind of hassle, and it would spoil the fun, wouldn't it? Good heavens, there aren't many options about, perhaps that fellow needs to go after all…"
That…didn't sound very reassuring at all, did it?
"If you had the chance, would you change who you are, change your past? Would you stay a noble girl, a princess, or would you give it all up for the simple life of a peasant?" came the next question, and she did not answer nearly as quickly as before. It was odd question, but that wasn't particularly surprising. Part of her wanted to speak for a simple life, the life of a girl on a farm with her family, but she wasn't that naïve. Life as a peasant, never mind a pretty peasant girl, was horrible. If you were lucky, you married a fellow peasant and lived long enough to see your children marry. Far more commonly they were forced to sell their bodies, or raped by whomever could get their hands on them. The life of a noblewoman was a hard one, but it was one she had spent her whole life knowing, and it was better than the alternative. Besides, she was who she was. She didn't really have any interest in being someone else…beyond a couple of things, perhaps. Like not being a target for the Wild Hunt. That was something she would change in a heartbeat if given the chance.
"Stay as I am, stay who I am." She finally said firmly, and tried not to feel pleased when Gaunter made a noise of approval and satisfaction at her choice. "It's…it's who I am, who I've always been. Giving up my mother, my grandmother, all the friends and family I had before the fall of Cintra, all the family on Skellige and elsewhere…no, I wouldn't give that up, not for anyone or anything."
"Good, good. I doubt you would be the fierce little Witcher-ess that you are today if not for every event through which you have lived. Imagine, Cirillia Fiona Elen Riannon as nothing more than Ciri the Farm Girl! Popping out brats and hoping not to get in the path of some bandit group or another! Appalling! Boring! Dreadful!"
He sounded genuinely offended and horrified by the possibility. Ciri supposed that she would take that as a compliment, if she really had to. She'd already acknowledged how distinctly unappealing it was to herself, so it wasn't like she was going to disagree with him all that energetically.
"Now, one wonders how best to deal with certain future entanglements…" he mused thoughtfully, looking at her with the slightly narrowed eyes of a man in thought, and he scribbled several more things down on his scroll without asking her so much as a single syllable, muttering to himself. She didn't catch much, little more than 'those cleric girls, their little religious rivalry will make things terribly fun', 'they do call it 'the little death', but really, a bomb for a heart? Something will need to be done about that!', and 'It would be a shame for her to be the one constantly rendered so useless for the better part of a year, but…hmm, perhaps a touch of magic? Switching back and forth?' which made no sense and only enhanced her nervousness.
"Next, if given the opportunity to simply stay home for the rest of your life, or travel and see anything and everything that you can imagine or dream of, what would you do?"
That was a simple question with a simple answer: Ciri had no interest in staying home, lounging her days away in some castle or mansion or manor or farmhouse. Oh, she might like her luxuries, her beautiful dresses and jewelry, her quiet nights beside the fire with a book or exciting games of Gwent after dinner, but she was an adventurer at heart. A wandering adventurer who wanted to see the world, beauty and ugliness alike. He nodded in satisfaction, writing that answer down, and the next minute or so was spent in silence, the only sound the scratching of his quill tip on parchment.
"Now, one last question: if you knew that there was an ancient evil attempting to enslave or destroy all that was, is, and shall be, what would you do?" he asked at last, and she stared at him, wondering if this was a trick question. He seemed serious, but…
"Fight it, of course. Even above and beyond the fact that it would mean saving my own life, stopping evil is what I was born to do, raised to do, trained to do. I could never look my parents in the face if I just stood aside and hoped for the best." She answered, and he grinned broadly again, that delight in his eyes once more.
"Good, good! Excellent! Then I am sure you will be a great source of enjoyment for me for some time to come!" he said with a significant amount of pleasure and anticipation as he got to his feet again, the lap-desk and scroll vanishing in a spiral of light. "Well, since you've answered my questions, I suppose we can get started on your liberation. Just need to do a couple of things first, do give me a moment…"
He vanished, leaving Ciri scowling at the empty space he had once inhabited. If the bastard had intended to help her, at least he could…
The world flickered.
Have…
"There we are!" Gaunter crowed, reappearing with a pair of glowing orbs, one of which was a seething, deep crimson and the other of which was a shining blue-white. Holding his hands out as if he were balancing valuable and fragile things in his hands, he gave the pod holding Ciri a sharp kick. There was a clank and a hiss as the pod slid open, spilling Ciri out onto the cold deck on her hands and knees, gasping for breath and from relief as she was freed from her prison. His boots enter her field of view, and she looked up to see him reaching out towards her, orb-filled hands outstretched. She had just a moment to realize these were probably the 'side-effects' that had been mentioned earlier before those hands clasped her shoulders, the orbs of sinking into her flesh, and she shuddered and cried out as she felt herself begin to change.
"What…what did you do to me?" she hissed through the pain, wincing at how loud everything suddenly sounded, and he gave her an innocent look.
"My dear girl, I asked you some very specific questions, and you gave me such well-thought-out answers to each and every one of them!" he responded, his surprise almost sounding sufficiently genuine to make her believe that this wasn't what he had been planning from the beginning. "Didn't I warn you there would be a couple of minor side-effects! Besides, you should be grateful. All the strength, speed, talent, and sensuality of a Higher Vampire with none of the side-effects! A background amongst the nobility of this world, providing the advantage of a wealthy, powerful position amongst the aristocracy to help you in your noble goal of saving this world from an ancient evil!"
Ciri felt her eye twitch as the enormity of what Gaunter was implying began to sink in, but he wasn't done yet.
"Really, and after I went to all that effort of making a couple of new deals to get you those very benefits! And with such sorry sods, at that! That vampire, sad little fellow he was, all darkness and depression, anger and scars behind the veneer of a confident flirt! Would have been nothing but a problem for you and all your heroics, whining all the way! And the noble, trading his life as a Duke's son to get that devil's leash off of his neck! You would have liked him, I think, sacrificing himself into demonic servitude to save his people!"
"Did…did you murder two people to give me their powers and their…their social class in this world?" Ciri asked through gritted teeth, and Gaunter placed a hand over his heart with an appalled expression.
"My dear princess, I would never dream of doing such a thing! Three wishes each, that was the agreement with them! The vampire wished to be free of his curse, free of the ship, and free of the parasite he had. Much like yours, by the way. It was entirely his fault that he didn't tell me he couldn't fly, I followed his requests to the letter! Took his vampirism for you, took his parasite for you to hold onto, and opened a portal out of his pod and right out of the ship! Besides, he was sure to try and feed from you or betray you eventually anyway, with that attitude of his!" the pseudo-deity protested defensively, and Ciri failed to resist the urge to growl at him slightly, a sound that was a wee bit more bestial than it would have been before. "And that nobleman, I did him a favour! Now, the loss of nobility is unfortunate, but really it makes his life story so much better. Instead of being the fallen noble, he's the poor bastard son, dreaming of the day his father praises him for his loyalty to their homeland! Why, if you help him redeem himself, he'll get his nobility back and his father's love! It will be almost as though I never took anything from him at all! He'll be useful too, he was smart enough to have wishes that actually kept him alive!"
It was genuinely remarkable how surprised, and how pleased, he seemed by that.
"Fine, are those the only 'side-effects'?" Ciri asked as calmly as she could manage, given she had just (apparently) been turned into a vampire and made a noble (at least, she was afraid that his use of the 'princess' title wasn't only due to her rank in her home Sphere) at the significant upheaval of one man's life and the outright end of another.
"Oh, more or less. There are a couple of additional things, but they can't possibly be all that objectionable. Make your life more enjoyable and exciting, actually, might even bring a great deal of pleasure if you want it to!" he told her jovially, patting her on the shoulder before turning and starting to walk away. He paused, raising a finger as if a thought had suddenly occurred. "Oh, and I have been slowing time down a bit so we could have our little chat, but that will be running out in a moment. I would suggest moving quickly. This fascinating little ship seems to be in trouble. Dragon attacks being less than healthy for boats of even the flying variety, I suppose."
He vanished, the world around her visibly accelerating, as she gaped at his back…moments before an ear-splitting roar echoed through the air, a massive hole being torn open in the farthest wall. Ciri swore and had just enough time to dive for cover behind her pod as a red-scaled, draconic head shoved itself in through the hole and exhaled a plume of fire.