The Witcher The Swallow and The Monster

The Empress of Nilfgaard

"When you know about something it stops being a nightmare. When you know how to fight something, it stops being so threatening." - Vesemir

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(F/N) sat next to Triss while she healed his ears, and broken body, which involved a broken ankle, bruised ribs, a couple fractures, and a concussion. He still heard a loud ringing in his ears. He didn't remember exactly what happened after Ciri's loud scream.

He remembered being blown away from Caranthir, and watching as the Wild Hunt riders and it's commanders, writhed in agony. Everyone was grabbing there ears from the loud noise, or their head as they were hit with a large wave of vertigo. The witcher recalled being incredibly afraid, when he realized Ciri had lost control off her power. He could tell by the fact that he couldn't see the pupils in her eyes, and the large green light that seemed to be growing even louder. He was certain she was still screaming but all he had heard was a loud ringing.

He had no idea what had happened to Eredin, Caranthir, and Imlerith. But they weren't among the bodies they found. He wasn't expecting to find any of their bodies in the wreckage. What happened next, he only had flashes of. He remembered feeling as though everything was okay. Even though Ciri's continued scream was causing the earth to shake.

He remembered slowly crawling to her. He remembered black and red lightning and mist protecting him. He felt his ankle swell in pain when he stood up. Then he vaguely recalled hugging Ciri. Now why he had chosen to do that instead of slapping her, to have her get a grip was beyond him. Then he remembered his entire body flaring up in pain. His armor was glowing from the heat, when they found him. If it weren't for Avallac'h he might have died.

Geralt told him the Sage had yelled out a spell and helped Ciri get back control. Apparently, he and Ciri had both been passed out right next to Vesemir's body, they had been hugging each other tightly. (F/N) never really processed the old witcher's death until he saw him lying face down on the ground. He had expected him to stand back up, but he didn't. No one ever did.

(F/N) got off relatively lightly compared to some of the others. Roche's leg had nearly been broken beyond repair. Cerys nearly lost an eye. Saskia nearly died on two separate occasions. And Zoltan had bruises all over.

When the witcher was finished healing, he tasted dried blood in his mouth, his blood, and some blood he couldn't identify. He believed Triss said something, but he didn't hear. He just walked off. And started gathering wood, his entire body was numb. He didn't allow himself to think outside basic thoughts: Now you have to grab that piece. Cut that tree down. He knew if he did, he would commit suicide.

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Everyone stood around Vesemir's pyre. The old witcher was laying peacefully on it, with his sword resting on his chest. Ciri and (F/N) were standing the closest, the ladder hadn't met anyone's gaze. The witcheress set a small bundle of flowers she had picked on Vesemir's chest. (F/N) shook his head and took a few steps back. Everyone was mourning, especially the witchers. Geralt softly moved Ciri away, as he approached with a torch, he had taken the loss of his old mentor the hardest. As Geralt lit the pyre, (F/N) bowed his head, as he bid the old witcher goodbye. His medallion was laying next to him, on the pyre. Geralt walked over to Ciri, "Don't blame yourself. No witcher's ever died in his own bed."

Ciri hadn't stopped crying since, she had seen the old witcher's body put on the pyre, she couldn't get the image of it from out of her head, "You don't know how it is. To see someone you love die...because of you, for you." She spoke softly.