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[PR: Ash]

“Thanks, Coral. Take care of Calanthe and Ciri.” Yennefer was on the other side of the xenovox, sighing in resignation. “But don’t let them stay for too long. Make sure they return by today, or Bran will skin me alive. If they know I let a witcher take those two away under my nose, the Skellige brutes will feed me to the sharks.”

“Yes, Yennefer. I’ll make sure they return this afternoon. In one piece.” Lytta covered her mouth and giggled. Ciri popped up behind Coral and huddled closer to the xenovox, her eyes glinting, and her lips curled into a smile.

“Don’t you run around again, duckling.” Yennefer stared at her charge and crossed her arms. Sternly, she said, “Take your grandmother and Roy when afternoon comes, and use your… Elder Blood’s power to return immediately. If I have to go all the way to Thanedd to take you back, you’ll be drawing the patterns two thousand times.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.” The girl curled up, a little scared, but she giggled as well. She then darted to the bedroom’s fireplace and lay on the settee like a pony resting from galloping. She rested her chin in her left hand and scanned the room.

Casiga, the girl who was only a few years older than her, was seated with her grandmother on the same settee, staring at the witcher across from her, her cheeks red.

Roy had an interesting look on his face. He was stiff, and he sat up straight, but his butt was fidgeting around, and his smile was as stiff as a statue’s. Through the corner of her eye, Ciri looked at Coral, who was talking to Yennefer.

Roy and Casiga were about the same age, judging from their looks. The young witcher was handsome, and the young sorceress was adorable. They’d make a great couple. Or so Ciri thought. She nodded, looking like realization had struck her. As if nonchalant, she asked, “Hey, Roy, is she your girlfriend?”

Everything came to a grinding halt. Casiga froze, her jaw dropping a little. Coral turned off the xenovox and whirled around with so much ferocity, she might burn something.

Calanthe caressed her belly gently, a small smile twisting her lips. She watched on with interest. Given her experience in life, she knew the young witcher shared an interesting bond with these women. Still, it was surprising to see the witcher, once so confident in giving her and Eist advice, looking so awkward. She was more than happy to see Roy in a pickle. A joke or two would work wonders for her baby.

Roy put on a forced smile. A few moments later, he pinched Ciri’s cheeks and pulled on them, as though he was trying to make pizza. “You shut your mouth if you have no idea what’s going on, Ciri.” He then pushed her away in case the Elder Blood decided to trigger another chain reaction. “She’s not my girlfriend. Casiga’s a good friend of mine, got it? Just like you and Cerys and Hjalmar.”

Casiga patted her chest in relief, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Lytta had been helping her a lot with her education, and earlier, she was told that Roy was Lytta’s romantic partner.

That quashed Casiga’s dream of becoming Roy’s girlfriend.

After Coral turned the xenovox off and whirled around, she placed her hand on the back of the chair and rested her chin on the back of her hand. She stared at Roy and Casiga, her face deadpan, as if she were trying to see what would happen.

Roy pretended not to notice Coral’s death stare. He gently asked, “It must’ve been a couple of years, Casiga. How’s life in Aretuza?”

“Roy, I…” Casiga felt her heart swell, and she stammered, her voice cracking, as if a lump had formed in her throat. The rims of her eyes turned red, and tears glimmered within them.

She shot up from the couch and spun around, showing herself off to Roy. An expression of delight and sadness adorned her face. “I’m all better now. Normal as a human can be. The insults are no more. No one’s pushing me to do menial chores every day, and no more stones either. I have new clothes all to myself, and I can feast on food most people only dream of. And I made a lot of friends.” She sobbed. “And I know magic too.”

She weaved her fingers in the air like she was playing an invisible lute. Flickering flames, glistening droplets of water, arcs of electricity, and fluorescent lights of magic fluttered across her fingertips, illuminating the ceiling with strobing lights. Illuminating the tears that were streaking down her cheeks.

The young sorceress was putting on a performance for the witcher. “What do you think? I still remember the moment you showed me magic back at the pond, and I’ve kept the Gwent card you gave me close by my side. They’re the very first things that taught me hope.”

She produced a beautiful card in her other hand. The face of the card was a red-haired woman in a crimson dress. She was fiery, mysterious, and beautiful. She was Sabrina, Kaedwen’s consultant for magic.

“And it’s all thanks to you, Roy. You saved my life and took me to Aretuza. If it weren’t for you, those scum would’ve killed me, if the rampaging mana didn’t do it first.”

Casiga spoke a lot, and it took a big weight off her mind. Her chest heaved, and a long rush of air escaped her lips. She looked at the witcher, her eyes glimmering with tears. “I’ve always wanted to see you again, Roy. So I could say thank you.”

She gazed at the witcher, a hint of aggrieved sadness possessing her voice. “But you never came. You didn’t write back to me either. I thought you’d forgotten about me. About your friend.”

Calanthe heaved a sigh. The older queen could glean the gist of the young sorceress’ earlier life, and it did not paint a pretty picture. Ciri’s smile was wiped off. Inexplicably, she felt sorry for the young sorceress. Lytta looked sympathetic, as though she saw her younger self in Casiga.

She strode over to them and held Casiga in her embrace, caressing her hair like a mother would her daughter. Casiga’s tears were drenching Coral’s shirt, but the sorceress let her cry.

And she directed a scorching glare at the witcher.

“Sorry I’m late, but I’m here now.” Roy sighed. What he did two years ago was nothing but an innocent presentation. He never thought it would leave that deep an impression on Casiga. Saving her was an easy task for him back then, and he thought he could use the favor someday too. His less-than-innocent rescue attempt didn’t deserve an earnest thank you.

Roy looked at the sobbing girl and sincerely said, “As your friend, I’m glad to see you living the best life you can in Aretuza. It’s good to see that our efforts haven’t gone to waste. And I’d like to congratulate you, Casiga.”

Lytta raised her head and humphed. “You’re not going to give her any presents? Just empty congratulations?”

A frown furrowed Roy’s brows. What’s up with you? I can’t give another girl a present right in front of you.

Roy stood up and approached the sorceresses. He glanced at Coral, and the veteran sorceress returned an encouraging look.

Roy opened his arms, and Coral pushed Casiga into the witcher’s embrace. Casiga buried her face in Roy’s shoulder and took a deep breath. She looked up at his perfectly sculpted face, reminiscence twinkling in her eyes.

She had always wanted to just cuddle up with Roy in silence. She had always longed to just be close to him, tasting his scent and gulping in everything that was Roy. I was just an ugly, insecure bumpkin who grew up in filth. Now I’m a healthy student of magic who’s living her best life. I have everything a girl can hope for in life. I shouldn’t ask for more. Not when something more means breaking Lytta’s heart.

Casiga kept telling herself that, but she was on the verge of crying. She was hugging the witcher, and so tight was her hug, her knuckles were turning white. She was imagining something in her head. Casiga and Roy, seated in a boat on the pond, the light of the full moon and the branches of the weeping willow gracing them.

Nothing but a shattered dream now. All she could cling onto were what little memories she had with Roy. She cried. “I know I shouldn’t cry, but… but…”

“It’s alright. Just let it out, Casiga.” Roy held the young sorceress, his left arm wrapped around her shoulder, his right patting her back. He was like an older brother trying to calm his inconsolable sister down. “I’m proud of you. Proud and happy that you found a fresh start in life in Aretuza. Proud that you found a new goal in life.”

The queen of Cintra watched from the settee, a hint of melancholy flitting in her eyes. She was reminded of her younger and more passionate years.

“I pray that you’ll work hard for your new life, but I also have a gentle reminder. Should you someday become a celebrated sorceress, don’t forget to lend a hand to those in need. Never let go of that sliver of kindness in your heart.”

Roy looked at Coral. The sorceress’ crimson lips were glimmering more than ever, and she looked pleased. Good. He didn’t try anything with her.

“I won’t forget that, Roy. I promise.” Casiga tightened her hug once more, then she backed out of his embrace. She wiped her tears away, determination and repose nestled back in her eyes. The young sorceress put on a smile. “Sorry you had to see that, everyone. I’m a bit of a crier.”

“Earnest passion is worth its weight in gold. Its beauty shines more than any poem. Do not lose that, child,” Calanthe remarked. She picked up the cup of tea and took a sip. “I see that the rumors of magical training whittling its practitioner’s humanity down to oblivion is nothing but a lie now. I have no more worries about Yennefer teaching Ciri now.”

“Magical training does not take away humanity; time, however, is a different story. Especially when it stretches for so long.” Lytta hugged Casiga from behind and rested her chin on the young sorceress’ shoulder, a hint of guilt flickering in her eyes.

A sigh escaped Roy’s lips. “So, how much longer will you be studying in Aretuza, Casiga?”

“I-I’m in my third year now. The fundamentals will take five years to complete. Another ten years for advanced magical training.” Casiga rubbed her cheeks with her smooth, silky hands. Like her hunchback, her calluses were waved away by magic.

“I’ve heard stories of graduates serving the academy for decades.”

“Students who receive their education for free, yes. They’ll have to work for Tissaia and Margarita for decades. I’m not included in that list, of course.” Casiga whirled and gave Lytta a smile of gratitude. “Lytta paid off my tuition every year, so I’m a free girl. I can quit my studies and leave Aretuza anytime I’d like.”

Roy gave Coral a questioning look. Lytta had never told him about that. Why’d she financially support Casiga in secret?

Lytta held Roy’s arm, the light of remembrance twinkling in her eyes. “I’ve always wanted to have someone like Casiga. Once she finishes her education, she can assist me with my research. Innocent, grateful apprentices like Casiga are rare now. Most students who receive free education in Aretuza have a traumatic past. They’re either vengeful, extreme, narrow-minded, or downright twisted. They may never heal from that.”

Childhood trauma follows you forever.

“Casiga’s a very likable girl. We can trust her. The teachers love her too.”

Casiga hung her head low sheepishly, holding the hem of her skirt.

“And then you wanted me to move my base of operations to Novigrad.” Lytta let go of Casiga and straightened out Roy’s collar. “You then went on a quest to look for more spellcasters to join us. First, it was Kalkstein, then Evelyn, then Triss, and now Yennefer has shown herself. She hasn’t joined us yet, but she’s an ally. I know you’re looking for more spellcasters to carry out your dream. Given that I am your lover, I will help you with it.”

A smile curled Lytta’s lips. “Don’t you think Casiga would make a perfect addition to the brotherhood?”

For a moment, everything around Roy disappeared. It was as if everything were gone. Everything but the smiling sorceress. She’s been helping me out in secret. A surge of warmth caressed his soul, and he held Lytta’s hand tightly.

Casiga forced a smile and sniffled. She held her hands to her chest. With anticipation, she asked, “Lytta told me there are a lot of kids at the House of Gawain. You have alchemists, blacksmiths, and even a griffin. Is that true? Can I come over? Can I stay there?”

“You’re always welcome, Casiga.” Roy took a deep breath and sifted through his memories, calculating how much time was left until the political upheaval in Thanedd. “But you should stay in school and keep learning magic. At least for a year or two. You can always take a few days off, though.”

Coral nodded at the young sorceress.

“Okay!” Casiga’s eyes flared with joy. I’d die happy if I could go to Novigrad and see Roy more.

***

“Alright, I told you everything. Now it’s your turn.” Lytta stared into Roy’s eyes, trying to pierce through him. “How come the Elder Blood flows in you? You’re just a farmer’s child in Lower Posada.”

“Ah, so he has the ancient bloodline as well?” Realization struck Calanthe. “That explains why Ciri said she felt a connection. And it also explains why we can traverse space when we’re together.”

“So you mean Roy’s my family too?” Ciri stared at the witcher. She puckered her lips, worry flickering in her eyes. “Don’t tell me he’s my uncle.”

“I don’t particularly like cheeky nieces either.” Roy flicked Ciri’s forehead. No more lies. “My Elder Blood is different from theirs.” He looked into Lytta’s eyes. “When Letho and I were exploring a mine in Mahakam, I ingested a Child of the Sun. Thanks to the herb, I awakened a sliver of the Elder Blood. Then I followed its guidance and traveled to the woods of Brokilon. There, I, along with Geralt and Ciri, drank the Waters of Brokilon, bolstering the blood’s strength. I was not born with it.”

Lytta’s eyes twinkled with a bit of envy. “Still, it’s remarkable that you managed to cross through space with your bloodline’s power. I doubt any witcher can reproduce that feat.”

“I didn’t expect that reaction, however. When Ciri, Calanthe, and I came in contact, it felt like the power of our bloodline merged into one.” Roy scanned Calanthe and Ciri. “I was transported here the moment I thought of you. And Casiga.”

“I saw Hjalmar and Cerys!” Ciri quipped.

“It’s not limited to just humans either,” Calanthe added. “You can travel to any place you’ve been. Just like how we traveled to Sodden’s castle moments ago.”

***

“You can travel anywhere in an instant just by conjuring up an image of a place or a person in your head.” Lytta’s eyes glimmered, and she praised, “Not even the legendary Geoffrey Monck, who captured a djinn, possessed that level of teleportation powers. Have you ever tried taking someone along with you on these teleportations?”

“We haven’t been experimenting a lot.” Roy shook his head.

“I do not have time to perform any dangerous experiments, Roy.” Calanthe was concerned. “Once we return to Skellige, I will not perform any teleportation before my child is born. Aren’t you awash with vertigo every time we teleport? Besides, how can you be sure that teleportation will not overexert my unborn child and leave any complications?”

“True. For safety purposes, this will be our last teleportation for the time being.” Roy conjured a bizarre mental image. Two months down the line, he would be holding a baby in his left hand and a girl in his right, traveling all around the world, arriving anywhere he wanted in an instant.

***

“Grandmother, Roy.” Ciri’s eyes were tinted with anxiety as well. “We should be going back now. Any later, and Yennefer’s going to have me draw those patterns two thousand times.”

“Take them home, now.” Lytta understood their predicament. She approached the witcher.

Roy felt something press against his lips. Lytta left him a kiss.

“See you, Roy.” Casiga stood with Lytta, waving at the witcher.

Roy held Calanthe’s hand with his left and Ciri’s with his right. They closed their eyes, and then a gust of wind blew across the room. A blinding light filled the air, and sunlight refracted like it was trapped in a room of shattered shards of glass.

Motes of dust fluttered like balls of light, and the silhouettes disappeared.

“I’m off to the library, Lytta.” Casiga swung her fist, looking determined.

“Hm?”

“I need to learn quickly so I can help you guys one day.”