Half a month.
The thought landed in Ciri's unconscious mind.
Half a month was all it took for the riders to find her again. Each time, they found her faster. Each time, she had, well, less time to breathe.
Her body protested when she tried to move. Everything hurts. Just a deep, miserable ache, as if every muscle had been wrung out and left to dry.
She tried to remember what happened. She was running, like she always did.
But then someone appeared. A man. She remembered flashes. He'd stood his ground when he shouldn't have, she remembered him grabbing her, and she remembered grabbing him, the world folding around her, then nothing.
Then a thought came into her head. Where is she?
She then felt the cold pressed against her back.
And finally, Ciri opened her eyes.
Stars hung overhead, like dots on an ink-stained paper. A fire crackled somewhere to her left, close enough that its warmth brushed her cheek. She pushed herself up with a groan. Her arms shook. She ignored it.
"Finally awake?"
Her head snapped toward the voice.
The man sat by the fire, legs stretched out, arms loose at his sides. The light caught his face and then let it go again. Older than her. Not by much. The desert rose up in her mind. The fight. Him. But right now, they are not in a desert, as they are surrounded by tall trees that hide the surroundings.
"You…" Her throat burned. "I remember you."
"Good," he said. "That'd be awkward otherwise. You did haul me across worlds."
She scowled. "You were about to die. I saved you."
"Because you led them straight to me." He paused, then exhaled and rubbed his face. "I'm not picking a fight. Just stating facts. I'm not blaming you."
She watched him carefully. He didn't reach for a weapon. He didn't look away either.
"Who are you?" she asked. "And why were you in a dead world?"
"Passing through."
She frowned. "That's not an answer."
"It is," he said mildly.
A pause settled down for a moment.
"...So you travel between worlds?" The words slipped out before she meant them to.
He tilted his head. "You do too."
"That's different."
He smiled faintly. "Is it?"
Her fingers curled into the dirt. "What does that supposed to mean?"
"White hair," he said. "The Wild Hunt is chasing you. You open portals to other worlds yourself." He shrugged. "I've seen enough."
Her chest tightened. "You know what I am."
"I know what is in your blood," he replied. "And what follows you."
Silence stretched. The fire popped.
"I'm not from your world, so don't worry about that," he went on. "But I've been there. Name's Finn Wegner."
"…Ciri."
"Ciri," Finn repeated, as if weighing it. "All right. Then maybe you can send me back to where we met."
She shook her head, already tired. "I can't exactly remember where it is or what it looked like. I'm not confident enough, sorry."
He sighed. "Thought so." He reached into his coat and pulled out a compass. The needle twitched, then settled, pointing stubbornly nowhere she recognized. "Guess I'm doing it the old fashioned way."
She stared at it. "The old fashioned way?"
"You really don't know how this usually works for the rest of us, do you?" Finn said.
Her jaw tightened. She drew her knees up and hugged them, staring into the flames.
"I didn't choose this," she said quietly.
Finn's shoulders eased. He nodded once. "Fair." He looked back at the fire. "Sorry. Wasn't meant to sound like I'm questioning your competence or willingness."
The compass clicked softly in his hand.
"Anyway," Finn said, glancing east where the sky had begun to thin, "now that you're awake, I'll be gone at sunrise. You can travel easily with your gift. I can't."
Ciri frowned. "You're leaving?"
"It's been three days."
She blinked at him. Three days she'd been unconscious. Three days The Wild Hunt is actively trying to track her while she does nothing.
"I…" She searched for something to say and found nothing.
Finn watched her for a moment. His expression turned somber.
"I know you are badly hurt," he said. "I didn't want to help more than I already have, but…" He exhaled. "You don't really know what you're doing, it's the least I could do, I suppose."
He bent over his bag. Ciri heard glass clinking. And before she could speak, a vial sailed through the air and burst against her chest.
"W—what the fuck?!" Ciri jerked back, half on her feet.
The anger vanished as fast as it came. She could feel heat rushed through her limbs. The ache drained away. Her fatigue vanished. Her breath caught.
"Wow," she said, staring at her hands. "What was that?"
"Healing potion," Finn said. "A strong one. Expensive." He grimaced. "The world I got it from is hard to reach from here from the looks of it. Thinking about it already makes me regret it."
"Well," Ciri muttered, rolling her shoulders, "thanks. I suppose."
Silence settled again.
She looked at him. "What are you, exactly? Are you… like me?"
"I'm a world traveller," Finn said. "But not like you. I don't open doors. I just wait for them."
"Wait?"
"Every world has doors," he said. "They open at a specific place, at a specific time. I will go where the door will be and travel using it."
Ciri tilted her head. "And you know where it is? And when will it appear? And where it leads?"
"For where—" He lifted his compass. "This. I made it. It picks up the anomaly the doors leave behind. I used to calculate it by hand. That got tiring fast."
He lowered it again.
"For when, you wait. Or you calculate, but again, that got tiring quickly. For where it leads, you don't know. You just have to test it. Carefully. The door stays open long enough to pull back if the world is dangerous."
"So you gamble," Ciri said. "Every time you go through a door."
Finn huffed a laugh. "Not quite every time. The doors don't lead to random worlds. It's like a route. Like paths that cross and recross. After enough navigation, you gather a lot of info. You remember. You wrote it down. I have a map of the worlds that I've been through so far. The time the doors will open, and where it is."
She glanced at the towering trees around them.
"So you know where we are."
"No." He shook his head. "This is probably a new world. Not a dead one. Not a lived in, either. Things are still… evolving."
"Evolving?"
He sighed. "Long story."
He nudged the fire with a stick. "So. What is your plan after this, if you don't mind? Are you going to use your gift to jump to another world again?"
She watched the sparks of the fire rise. "What else is there? I am assuming you will look for a door when the sun rises, but your way seems like a hassle," she said.
"It's a hassle," Finn agreed. "But predictable."
She looked up at him. "You could come with me. I'll try to take you back to where I encountered you, or I could get you to a world that's lived in. After a few tries anyway..."
Finn didn't answer right away.
"If I travel with you," he said at last, "The Wild Hunt will follow. I'd rather not invite them along on my journey."
The words landed between them. The fire crackled once more.
"Right," she said quietly.
Finn studied her. He sees the lonely, tired, and sorrowful eyes of the young woman. Then he swore under his breath as if annoyed at himself.
"…You could come with me," he said. "Not permanently of course, at least until I can reach some safe worlds."
She looked up.
"The way you travel… it leaves traces," he went on. "Big ones. That's how they keep finding you. Your gift is powerful, but very loud to the ones that know what to look for."
Hope flickered in Ciri's eyes. "And yours doesn't. And they can't track me. Is that what you are saying?"
"It leaves significantly less," Finn said. "But you're still trackable. The Elder Blood isn't easy to hide for those who want to find it." He met her eyes. "But yes, it makes it harder."
Ciri clenches her fist. "Then please, take me with you."