To Trust a Witcher

The Black Knight

I don't waste my luck, tripping over to Geralt's saddlebag on Roach and retrieving a knife I had seen him tuck away earlier. The cold steel hilt gives me a false sense of security as I hold it in front of myself. As if you know how to yield it, a voice in my mind criticizes me.

Shut up, I tell it.

I look around, but I find no trace of him. Roach is still behind me, and in the meantime has gotten her fill of the leaves. But where the hell did he go? He must be somewhere around here. He couldn't have gotten far. Goosebumps race across my arms, making me rub my skin with my free hand.

Besides, why would he leave when he had the perfect opportunity to kill me? Why?

I glance around, my eyes jumping from tree to tree until they fall on the snow that lay on the branches. Of course, the snow! I can track his footprints and see where he has gone.

I look at the ground and frown.

Where are his footprints? I had heard him trudge through the snow, but the snow is untouched, as if nothing had disturbed it. It is snowing lightly, but it hasn't been enough time to cover up the path he made. It doesn't pile up that fast.

"What?" I say, confused, "But I saw it, and heard it."

What kind of sorcery is this?

I can't even find the snow where the blood from his sword dropped on.

All I see in front of me is a single black feather on the ground, from the bird that had dropped it in the first place.

A twig snaps to the right of me, and I swing my body towards the noise, holding the knife in front of me. I will not freeze up again. I will fight this time.

"Ciri?" Geralt's golden eyes widen slightly as they meet mine. He tilts his head as he regards me. I must look like a spooked animal to him, as he lifts his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "It's just me, Ciri."

At the sound of my name, I break out of the stupor and slowly lower the knife. "I'm- I'm sorry."

I clench my eyes closed, trying to shut out my turbulent thoughts, but it doesn't work. I open them to find Geralt coming closer. He stops in front of me, and his hand reaches out to me, enclosing over my own. He carefully removes the blade from my hand, making sure that the knife doesn't accidentally cut me, and I let him.

I feel so small next to him. How will I ever be able to defend myself against those who seek to hurt me, when I know so little and am so weak?

"Did something happen?" he asks, scanning our surroundings before deeming them safe, and his attention shifts back to me again. For some reason, I feel safer with him here.

I shook my head. "I thought I heard something."

"Heard something," he echoes. I suppose that didn't truly explain the wild look he must've seen in my eyes a few moments ago. I keep my gaze downcast, to my feet. I don't like lying to him.

Since when do I care about whether I am lying to him or not?

"Were you able to get everything?" I change the subject.

"Ciri..." Geralt says.

I steal a look at him and regret it. His eyes are on mine, and his mouth is pulled in a thin line. He is disappointed that I refuse to open up.

I look down again, pushing some snow around with the heel of my shoe.

"Please, Geralt," I urge quietly. I don't want to speak of it.

After a moment, he relents, "Yes, I have everything we need." He swings off the bag from his shoulder and procures a thick dark green cloak. As soon as my fingers touch the material, I know it will protect me from the cold. This must've cost a fortune. Kaedwen has always been known for their best clothing for winter, being that they were one of the kingdoms situated farthest in the North. He had gotten the best there is for me.

"Thank you," I say, taking it from his hand. I pull it on, wrapping it around myself, and sigh as the bite from the cold winds lessens just a bit already.

A moment passes where neither of us is moving. I can tell he wants to talk about what had happened while he was gone.

I'm still not looking at him when he sighs in defeat and says, "Alright, we should get going if we want to make it to Kaer Morhen by tomorrow."

I nod. He goes and adds the items he got from the market to the saddlebags, and I see him put away the knife too. Once those are put away securely, he helps me up on Roach again. This time, he joins me, sitting right behind me.

Roach starts trotting to our destination.

For some reason, I am hyperalert. Every movement Garelt does behind me puts me on edge. I wonder if he notices how tense I am. As we ride along, I notice that he is shifting in his seat less and less. I worry if he has realized that he scares me, and is trying not to move too much on purpose.

To distract myself, I think about the Law of Surprise. It's what intertwines our destinies, but there's so much I don't understand. I remember my grandmother's words again, telling me to find Geralt. How did she know I would be safe with him?

I have always regarded Mousesack as one of the people I trust most in this world, and then he turned out to be some sort of creepy creature I still haven't identified to this day. I suppose that wasn't truly Mousesack, then. How can I tell the difference?

"Geralt," I say, breaking the silence that hovered over us for the past couple of hours, "I have some more questions."

He calmly resonds, "What is it?"

"Well, I was wondering, is there any monster that can... take the shape and form of another person? Like, how they look and speak and such?" I ask. I can't see his face, so I don't know what he's feeling in response to my question.

There's a pause before he says, "If I tell you, will you let me know why you are asking this?"

I hesitate for a second before saying, "Yes."

"What you're describing is a doppler."

"A doppler?"

"Yes, a shapeshifter that can take any the form of anything they've encountered. Though, they are not considered monsters. They are only aggressive when backed into a corner, just as any creature would."

"Only when backed into a corner?" I repeat in disbelief, remembering the bald, long-nosed, gray creature that had roared at Dara and I. Struck down Dara and raced after me. Tied me to a tree in the middle of the woods. "Do they have any weaknesses?"

"Silver," Geralt says, and he's right. Dara's knife must have been made out of silver for it to maim the doppler that badly. It had burned the doppler's skin through. But this also means that Geralt cannot be a doppler as I've witnessed him handle silver blades before. "Ciri, tell me why you're interested in the dopplers."

I clutch onto Roach's mane for balance and support. I have forgotten that this was our deal. Information regarding dopplers for a tid-bit of my past.

"Mousesack, one of my grandmother's advisors, was killed by a doppler." I trust him to be able to put the rest of the pieces together. He inhales deeply, almost as if this has angered him. I ask, "Did you know Mousesack?"

"Yes," he doesn't elaborate, and I don't ask him to. It wouldn't be fair to expect him to tell me everything when I only give him small glimpses of what had happened to me.

After another hour, the snow starts picking up more. I bury myself within the cloak, covering most of my face with its hood as the snow hitting my skin makes it uncomfortable. Despite the added warmth of the new cloak, I find myself shivering at the biting winds.

We come to a stop in front of a large rock.

"We'll rest up here for tonight."

I don't know why, but the back of my head tingles. I bite my lip as I look around us. Nothing seems amiss. Yet, I can't shake off the feeling, as if something bad will happen soon.

I clear my head. I'm sure it's nothing.

I blame my paranoia and get off the horse. One more day, I remind myself, one more day, and we will be safe in Kaer Morhen.

With a sigh, I go and help Geralt prepare our shelter for the night.