Kyana Of Cintra

52

Mutters sounded Geralt's sleep, like an incessant buzzing that refused to leave. 'Wake up' and 'Rise' prominently repeated, drawing Geralt from his sleep. He groaned, his eyes fluttering open and meeting a familiar face. "Chireadan?"

Chireadan's eyes burned with both worry and embarrassment. "At long last." He stood, chains rattling with him. Geralt observed them with confusion, grunting as he pulled himself to sit up. He observed where they were; a damp, dark and cold cell. He had absolutely no idea how he had managed to get there. 

"Where are we?" He asked, looking through the cell bars at the long hallway.

"At the spa. Where do you think we are?" Chireadan replied sarcastically. Geralt rolled his eyes, struggling to his feet. "I hope your rampage was well worth it." Chireadan spat. Once again, Geralt was confused.

"'Rampage'?" He repeated, as if it exasperated him to say the word aloud. "What did I do?"

"Where to begin, you attacked a pawnbroker in his shop, kicking him in the delicate places, you also dragged the apothecary into the street, pulled down his pants and thrashed his arse with a belt. Both are on the town council who are voting to usurp the mayor and kick Yennefer out. Any of this ring a bell?" As Chireadan spoke, Geralt went around attempting to loosen any of the metal bars around the windows, to no avail.

"Like a faded dream." Came Geralt's reply. He tried shaking the doors, thinking of how Kyana would undoubtedly laugh at him for his stupidity.

"She had you enact revenge on her behalf. I tried to stop you but the guards assumed I was there to abet." Geralt sighed, realizing that his careless actions had not just condemned him, but a friend. "The sentence will be passed by the very council members you attacked. It is sure to be death."

Geralt hesitated. "I suppose that's one way of getting some rest." He sighed, sitting on a filthy ledge. He couldn't see Kyana, instead believing her to be in one of the cells down the hall, still out cold. He didn't call for her, yet he noticed Chireadan had not mentioned her. He started to wonder if she was a part of his rampage. 

"Why on earth would you enlist the mage's help after my warning? It is as though you thought the scorpion was prettier than the spider because of it's lovely tail." Chireadan chastised, masking his fear with anger and hatred. Chireadan was no fool; he knew by the end of tomorrow he would be dead for helping Geralt. 

"You weren't exactly forthcoming." Chireadan sighed, admitting this fault and leaning down to talk face to face with Geralt.

"I admit I could have better prepared you for Yennefer." Geralt tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowing gently. He observed his companion, who's eyes were dull and clouded when talking of Yennefer, the sort of look in the eyes of those men and women she had spelled. 

"You're under her spell, aren't you." Chireadan gave a bittersweet smile.

"I wish I was, but no. It's a simple issue of body chemistry." Geralt nearly rolled his eyes into the back of his skull. 'Body chemistry' was not an excuse for love. Love was infinitely more than that. It's the time you spend together, the thoughts you share when neither is around, the glances that told each other you love them. If you are truly in love, heartbreak is spending a second apart. 

"You're in love with her?" He asked incredulously, the tone of voice he stated it with matched his unimpressed facial expression. Yennefer had tried to seduce both himself and Kyana, which was both flattering and strange. He hadn't realized Kyana was, well, okay with women, yet he couldn't really blame her. Yennefer was beautiful and one of the most mesmerizingly sexual women he had ever met. 

"And I think, perhaps, you may understand me." A door opened, admitting a man in armor in. He passed the other cells without so much of a glance, which made Geralt question if Kyana was even there. "I thought it would take longer to build the scaffold" Chireadan said in confusion.

"Ah, fuck" Geralt recognized the face of the man, and it was not a friendly one.

"Here you are, remember me? Did not know you were a Witcher, I've always wanted to play with one." The man grinned cruelly, and Geralt knew he was in deep, deep trouble. Over and over again the man hit Geralt, repeatedly insulting him and drawing blood from high points of his face. "What's the difference between a Witcher and a tub of dung?" He asked Geralt, not expecting an answer.

To spite him, Geralt laughed. "Oh, I know that one." In retaliation, the man hit him again, this time into the gates. The man picked up the chain connecting Geralt's cuffs to the floor, dragging it towards him and pulling Geralt closer.

"What is repulsive, deviant, and cannot smell?" Geralt was so close to replying 'you', but held his tongue for the good of his face. "A Witcher without a nose." The man swung again, this time knocking Geralt clean to the floor. He landed with a thud, groaning. "Last words Witcher, make them good."

"I want you to burst you son of a whore." Geralt snarled, his back to the man, prepared for death. Instead, came a gust of sudden wind, and the man's head blew up completely, spraying it's contents around the room.

The man, now relieved of his head, slumped to the floor. Poor Chireadan looked traumatized, blood and gore all over his face and shoulder. "You're the one with the wishes." He stated as Geralt wound up the sleeve of his shirt, noticing a line had been added to his cut. Now that the man was dead and inside the cell, Geralt managed to get out of the cell with the key. He raced so quickly to the house, where he caught Jaskier coming out, blood on his shirt.

"Oh, Geralt, thank the gods, I might live to see another day. We need to go." He stated, all but dragging Geralt away from the house.

"Jaskier, where is Kyana?" Jaskier stopped in his tracks.

"I thought she was with you." He stated. He looked back up at the house, murmuring a quiet "oh god".

"What was happening when you left?" Jaskier gathered his thoughts in panic. He hadn't realized his friend was still in the house, left alone with a murderous witch. 

"There, um was a woman, she had black hair, devilish eyes and was significantly terrifying, she was painting an amphora on her abdomen" Geralt's eyes snapped up. 

"She wants to be the vessel." He stated, his golden eyes racing with reasons why she would need Kyana for that. Suddenly, after connecting the dots, he realized Yennefer could want one of three things; Kyana's power, her soul, or an organ. To pay in Aretuza, they give organs. "She will die, and kill Kyana with her." Geralt raced into the house as fast as he possibly could in search for Kyana. Jaskier tried to stand in front of him.

"Are you perhaps short of a marble? We can come up with a better strategy than this, surely! Kyana is strong." Jaskier scolded Geralt, who didn't listen.

"You have to go in there, don't you?" Chireadan stated. "I recognize the look, I know how you feel." Geralt shook the hand from his arm, claiming to be uncomfortable.

"No, do not tell me that this is finally the moment you've decided actually to care about someone other than yourself?" Geralt gave Jaskier a desperate look.

"She's been my friend for decades, Jaskier. I will not let her die."