Kyana Of Cintra

59

The few men that had joined them on the hunt blew horns to signify war was coming to the dragon as they moved across the fields. Kyana moved her hand through the tall dry grass, pricking her palms a few times, although she didn't care. Day and night they traveled, walking through miles of mud and grass, until they finally reached a forest that would lead them up into the mountain. 

"It is so kind of you to share the spoils of this expedition with an old man such as Borch. You're like two fiercely loyal... uh, friends. I wanna say friends. Relatives? Contract security?" Kyana shot Jaskier a warning look. 

"Watch your tongue, Jaskier." He shot her a sarcastic expression. 

"I can't exactly watch my tongue when my eyes only see so far." Geralt rolled his eyes in exasperation. 

"Your eyes would see much farther if your head wasn't so far up your ass." He commented under his breath, his eyes trained on the view in front of him. Kyana turned her head towards her companion, her brow furrowed at his grumpy attitude. 

"Are you okay?" She asked softly. Geralt gave her a look that was nothing more than pure irritation. 

"I'm fine." He stated harshly. His tone took Kyana aback, the bitterness and sharpness surprising her. 

"Are you sure-"

"I said I'm fine, Kyana. Just leave me alone." Geralt's heated gaze drifted from her to Yennefer, watching her and her escort walk a few paces ahead of her. He stepped forward, walking alongside Borch and leaving Kyana alone. Kyana felt defeated and hurt, suddenly finding the forest floor very interesting to look at and fixing her attention very fully onto the scattered sticks. 

"To hunt with him is an honor unsullied by payment." Véa answered Jaskier harshly, unwilling for her pride in her service to be tarnished by a man she had just met. 

Jaskier chuckled with indifference. "But why?" The two warriors stopped, each glaring at Jaskier with spear eyes. 

"He is the most beautiful." Téa explained harshly, as though she were speaking of a god, not a man. Jaskier's gaze whipped back and forth between the two women, unsure of how to reply to them. While Yennefer and her escort, followed by Geralt and Borch, made it up a small steep hill, Kyana was joined by Téa while Véa kept Jaskier in good will. She linked Kyana's arm with hers, walking in synchronization with a newfound friend. 

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Kyana looked up, her posture straightening as she prepared for eyes to be on her. 

"What do you mean?" Téa laughed, although no humor came to her voice. 

"Geralt. I saw your face after what he said to you." Kyana sighed and waved her hand in dismissal. 

"It's okay, he's just really stressed and tired." Téa gave a hum of disbelief. "I'm serious Téa, he's not a horrible person." 

"I never said he was." Kyana sighed again, her free hand fluttering around the hilt of her sword. "For someone as tough as you are, you're incredibly sensitive." Kyana gave her a look.

"Um, thank you?" Téa laughed, truly this time. 

"I meant no offence, just that of all the Witchers I've heard of, you seem to feel the most." Kyana nodded in agreement, almost saddened by the truth of her friend's words. 

"I've met several Witchers from several training holdings, and never before have I met someone who feels like I do. I've never met someone so incredibly stupid as to care about people when I'm practically immortal." Téa smoothed over her arm gently. 

"Just because you feel doesn't mean you're stupid." Kyana gave her a pointed look. 

"No." she stated, her saddened gaze following Geralt as he stared at Yennefer. "But it sure as hell feels that way." Téa didn't know what to say, and instead changed the topic to the flowers and the wildlife common in the area. 

Meanwhile, Borch held a conversation with a rather reluctant Geralt. "You worry if you blink, you'll never see her again." Borch said, motioning to Yennefer. Geralt grumbled, never once looking back for Kyana and Jaskier since they started. "You're in love with her." 

Startled, Geralt turned his gaze to Borch. "Or, the danger here isn't the dragon." Borch huffed a laugh at the dodge of a statement. Kyana had strained her ears to hear what their conversation held, and regretted it the second Geralt didn't deny it. You're in love with her played over and over in her head, drowning out Téa's chatter about flowers. It felt as though someone had punched Kyana over and over, striking harder and faster where they knew it hurt. Tears brimmed in her eyes, the salt water upsetting her even more when she realized the first time she would cry in 50 years would be because of some guy. 

But it wasn't just some guy. It was Geralt, a man she had harbored feelings for over so many years, so many ruthless, hard years. Kyana had been through hell; the Witcher training process, her birth rights, her family, her fallen friends, but never, ever had she felt pain like this. True, emotional pain that wouldn't be better with some ice. Pain that made her want to curl up into a ball and be invisible to the world. Pain that tore down her confidence to care, to trust and to love freely. It was all foreign, something her body didn't know how to handle, and when vivid images played in her mind like some sick, twisted play she was forced to watch of all the memories he would make with her, and not Kyana, she felt herself crumble and become a different kind of quiet.

This quiet was in no way peaceful. It wasn't the quiet before a storm. It was the sort of quiet that instilled itself in the air after a war, when all the fighting was done and someone won at a great expense to the other. The sort after the carnage, after death and pain, that either brought peace or a bigger war. And even through it all, all Kyana could see was the pain and the fire and the heartbreak, no peace, no closure, and no healing. For the first time, Kyana of Cintra, the Sapphire Snake, Heiress of the thrones of Zerrikania and Cintra, had her mind and her heart utterly obliterated. 

And she couldn't see a way to fix it.