{11}

The sight of it was incredible.

It was a large stone castle, sat next to several mountains. Magnificent, daunting, and incredibly cold.

Nearly forgetting to breathe, I asked "what is this place?"

Geralt, who'd been all too silent (yes, possible even for him), actually happened to answer me, his arms still at my sides as he held Roach's reins, "this is where I learned, this is where you will train."

My lips parted in shock, "I don't think-"

The gates of the structure lifted, a heavy, grey-haired man stepped out, keeping his distance. He was littered with leather, chains, and weapons, his gold eyes piercing into Geralt's skin.

"The White Wolf," he said as two other similar-looking men stepped from the gates.

I felt the Witcher's grip tense, his jaw flexing, "Vesemir."

Vesmir stepped forward, drawing his sword as Geralt stepped from Roach. The Wolf walked cautiously to the elderly man, drawing his sword as well.

I sat and gawked, Roach growing unsteady as the two men sneered at each other.

Then the clang of sharp metal reverberated through the crisp air.

Those of us standing to the side observed the two equally matched men duel, their movements hard to track. I dismounted Roach, and took a few steps forward, but dared not tread too close.

Geralt nearly stumbled back, and Vesemir used the opportunity to lift his sword. Thinking the Wolf was in danger, I shouted "Geralt!" as I turned into a dark mist, rushing to his aid. Within seconds, I was in front of the Wolf, the dark smoke merging to take my form once more. I lifted my arm, using my own sharp mist to counter his attack and send him flying back.

Vesemir's eyes widened as he regained his composure, lowering his sword to the side as he shook his head to his men, who had their hands on their sword hilts.

Geralt, who turned out to be perfectly safe, pursed his lips behind me as the last bits of the mist turned whole.

"Who's this then?" Vesemir asked, his voice almost raspy.

Geralt smirked, "inside."

Vesemir sheathed his sword, smiled, then chuckled as he motioned for us to enter.

Hesitantly, I followed, taking in my surroundings.

Through the gates, we were met with a large courtyard, horses, golden-eyed scarred men having conversations, and large equipment. The snow crunched against the soles of my shoes, and the chill in the air made my breath visible.

Vesemir's two men left us after a few of minutes. I stared awkwardly at Geralt and Vesemir as they engaged in conversation.

After walking down a couple of long, isolated corridors, we entered an office area, clustered with papers, wood, and the smell of dust. The fireplace, heated, provided a warm ambiance to the otherwise chilled environment.

The men stood, eying me here and there, before Vesemir asked again, "who is she?"

Geralt pursed his lips, his arms crossed, then, "she's what I was promised some time ago."

Vesemir's eyes shot up, "you mean the Child Surprise?"

Geralt grunted in agreement.

"Bringing her here it's... Unnatural. You know we don't-"

"-What's the Child Surprise?" I asked.

Silence.

"What is your name?" Vesemir asked.

I tilted my head slightly, as a crow would, "Mirabel."

Vesemir chuckled, though it seemed more like a scoff, "Mirabel."

"The forest, we were attacked. Leucrotta." Geralt noted.

"They mimicked voices I couldn't quite place. They kept calling a name... Cirilla I think."

The men shot each other a look, and Vesemir rubbed his chin.

"You weren't raised in Cintra then? The capital I mean." He said suddenly.

My heart sank, my stomach twisted, "I burned it down, actually."

"Ash Bringer..." the old man mumbled, then glared at Geralt, "why have you brought a Nilfgaardian here? You know we do not involve ourselves in human affairs, not unless it involves coin and monsters."

I'm not a monster then.

Interesting, what money does to men.

"You're not human?" I asked.

"Not really, not in the same way most are. We're trained extensively at a young age, and we're made sterile."

"Sterile?" I inquired further.

"We can't have children," Geralt said.

I paused a long moment, "how old are you?" I said to no one in particular.

"I haven't counted in a while," Vesemir replied, "but Geralt here is seventy, at least."

I gawked.

"Now answer my question, White Wolf." The old man pried.

"She has potential, and enemies. She needs to know how to fight, not how to use her magic."

Vesemir sighed heavily.

Geralt continued, "it has not been done before, but be it as it may, they'll come here too, and we won't have enough to fend them off... Not without her."

That's what this is.

He doesn't actually care about me.

"Fine. She starts early tomorrow."

Geralt looked at me, trying to read me as much as I was him.

"Take your old room, you know where," Vesemir nodded at the door, "and don't bother me unless it's an emergency."

In the hall, my heart pounding in my chest, "so that's it? You're going to throw me away into some other battle? And I've no say in this?"

The Wolf replied none at all, leading the way in long strides across the courtyard, not seeming to pay mind to my frustrated rants. So caught up, I did not notice him halt suddenly until I slammed right into his back.

I froze as he turned to look at me, something in those golden eyes. Suddenly, it felt like I was staring up at the man who was not much taller than me. He gave me a look a father would when their child was having a tantrum.

But it wasn't anger.. yet anyway.

"I'm making up for a promise long ago. The Law of Surprise. I've spent weeks searching for you, and you've no idea how grateful I am to have found you. But do not test me."

I stared blankly as he turned around, continuing his long strides. We entered living quarters, several long corridors riddled with rooms. I tried keeping my eyes on the Wolf but accidentally stared in a few rooms out of curiosity, nearly catching sight of bathing men- Witchers.

I placed a hand on my forehead, shielding my eyes.

The Wolf opened a wooden door. Creaking, it slid open to reveal a nicely sized room with a window view of the courtyard below.

Afraid of the nudity back in the hall, I quickly (though gently) shut the door.

Geralt started to remove his outer layers, save his pants and shirt. Placing his clanking weapons down on one of the chairs, he went into the restroom and prepared a bath, water rising through a well pump right above the large tub. I'd almost forgotten the blood stains littered across our clothing and skin.

I plopped down on one of the other chairs, sinking into its cushioned fabric as its wooden frame creaked from my awkward position. Closing my eyes, I sighed, the aches in my muscles finally surfacing.

I wondered how they were doing. Cahir, Fringilla, Yennefer. I felt a pang in my chest at the thought Cahir and Fringilla working together. The bitch of a mage was always by his side, always in close proximity. Perhaps too close.

An image of them laying together flashed through my mind, something like jealousy tearing my heart.

No, he would never.

He was always so focused on the battle.

On me.

"You going first?" Geralt asked suddenly. My eyes shot open, lifting my head to look at him, only to turn my gaze away sharply.

I felt heat in my cheeks as Geralt's shirtless, well-built, sweaty body engraved itself in my mind.

"No, you can go first."

I made a face, staring a hole in the wall I was looking at. He walked over, standing next to me, "could you?"

I looked up at him, "yes."

I shot up, and briskly walked to the tub. Lifting my hands and placing them in the water, I focused. The liquid began to steam.

I rushed back into the adjacent room, "it's ready." I said, avoiding eye contact.

I never thought of Geralt in that way, never thought to think of him like that at least. Attractive, the ideal man for most women, but not interested in him like that. I knew he felt the same, which probably explained his passiveness as he removed his clothing and sat in the water.

A part of it was also likely due to him never having to live with a woman... a girl.

I stared at my reflection in the bedroom mirror. My hair was frazzled, my eyes were tired, my lips chapped from the cold. My face was red from the blushing and frost, though I looked much paler than usual (an oddity, despite my usual paleness).

I took a cloth, probably ages old, and wiped the paint and grime from my face. Though only water would help, I finally saw my features more clearly after so long.

My face had grown more mature, more intense, and though I held beauty before, I couldn't stop looking at myself in shock. There was almost something eerie with the way I looked.

No wonder the elf felt something for me.

I tucked my hair behind my ears, then narrowed my gaze. Were they always like that?

Lifting my hand slowly, I felt them. Barely noticeable unless you stared, but there. I was lucky I had hair to cover them. My ears were ever so slightly pointed.

Transfixed, I barely registered the sloshing of water as Geralt stepped from the tub, and drained the water. A moment passed, then he stepped into the room.

I turned after he'd covered himself. He stared at me a moment, then "hmm."

I lifted a brow, "what?"

Silence.

I narrowed my gaze and crossed my arms, turning a moment as he dressed.

"What?" I repeated.

A crooked smirk formed on the Witcher's lips.

I took a step forward.

"Your paint." Was all he said.

"What about it?"

"You look better without it."

The fuck?

"Bath, now. I'll order us a meal while you're bathing. Then sleep."

I rolled my eyes, his grin widening.

"Don't come in, or I'll burn you to a crisp." I said, entering the restroom.

He grunted again as I pumped fresh water into the tub.

---

"Up." A deep voice said.

I must have been deep in my slumber, because it repeated itself, "up."

I groaned, "five more."

The Witcher pulled me up, and my eyes shot awake. The room was chilled, especially with the loose-fitting men's garments I used as sleep wear.

I glared at him half awake, resenting the man as I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my eyes.

"Clothes, there." He said, nodding to the chair I sat in yesterday.

I looked, they were different.

"Where are my old clothes?"

"Away."

"And my gloves?"

"Still here."

I sighed in relief, and stood. I looked at the Wolf a moment, amazed he was already fully dressed.

I picked up the garments on the chair.

Leather boots, loose fitting pants, top, and a corset.

"Breakfast is in a few minutes. I'll be back to check up on you."

With that, he left the room, leaving me to change. When I was ready, I tied my hair back, and contemplated conjuring the face paint.

I decided against it.

After breakfast, I was brought outside by one of the other Witchers. To my disdain, and pleasure, Geralt would not be joining.

[Play Song]

Two men stood waiting in the cold air. I held myself, trying to preserve my body heat, glaring at their warm clothes and fur cloaks.

"Up." One of them said, pointing at a large pendulum-like equipment.

"What?"

"Go through without getting hit, and we'll move on."

Straight to it huh? No introductions? I mocked in my mind.

I climbed the wooden ladder to the first platform. The next was connected by a long wooden cylindrical log. Swinging above were four daunting pendulums.

One of them turned the mechanism which made them move.

I gulped harshly, fearing the metal on the rods.

Hesitantly taking a step forward, I tried making a run for it. But, after I was winded almost immediately and pushed off, I cringed at the thought of doing it again.

But I did, over and over, until I finally got it.

This went on for months. I was forced into more obstacles such as this, trained to fight with large weapons and my fists. Not once was I permitted to use my magic.

And before I knew it, I grew to be seventeen.

And from seventeen, when I was ready, I travelled with Geralt. I fought alongside him honing my skills, both magical and physical.

I was equipped with a sword by then, tall black leather boots, the front of my dark pants visible from a slit that stopped at my hips. This slit being a part of the greenish-grey top: puff-sleeved and narrow around the wrists and neck. The back of said shirt travelled slightly past my knees. On top of this, I was wrapped in a leather metal-grey corset, and a belt which held my daggers. I wore a hooded, fur cloak atop my shoulders, protecting me from the frost. My gloves remained.

The journey would take four months, and by then I would be eighteen.

I was given my own horse, and riding alongside Geralt, we headed into the direction of the Plains. Where Nilfgaard would situate. Where me and my brothers would fight, soon ending that conquest.

Where I would see him.

The Raven, The Crow, The Mother, the Ash Bringer, reborn.

----

Wardruna - White Raven (Kvitravn).

Lyrics (as seen in the YouTube CC):

Into twilightLure you inWhite ravenVeiled and dwelling

Let me ask!Lend me a featherI will turn itinto white wings

Let us fly,wide on windsWith hunting mindsand sorcerous songs

Let me ask!Lend me your wide-sightLet me espy,in fumes of fog

Let me ask!Teach me the songthat allures you...(that allures me)that finds you...(that finds me)

Will you follow methroughout my time?Will you watch over methroughout my time?

Spirit-birdGave me wingsWhite ravenGave me foresight

Chanting-crowGave me the songWhite wingsFollows me