Mirabel Nash has known only fear, pain, and confusion.
In the aftermath of her village's downfall, she soon catches the attention of a certain Nilfgaardian Black Knight, Cahir.
By his side, she seeks answers. Answers to her mysterious past, powers...
I stand to the left of the Black Knight, and Fringilla, my magics advisor, to the right.
The rest of the mages off to the side, behind us, the troops in front.
"Today," he starts, "we celebrate our biggest accomplishment yet, the destruction of Cintra!"
The soldiers chanted, banging their weapons against the ground, permeating the same sound emitted as they marched.
"Soon, my friends, the rest of the North shall fall. The Lioness is dead," he looked at me a moment, pride in his eyes, "bring him forth."
One of the soldiers dragged a man in orange cloth, bloodied, a beaten eye.
He struggled before the soldier punched him to the ground. He spat blood, a tooth shooting across the soiled ground. I stopped myself from flinching away.
"Calanthe's trusted advisor, Mousesack," Cahir bared his teeth in disgust, "scheming vermin."
Mousesack traded information between both kingdoms.
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Pathetic.
"Have you anything to say for yourself, traitor?"
The druid struggled a moment, laughing -wheezing- through his bloodied face, "you've no idea, do you?"
Cahir signaled a nod.
The shifter came over, kneeled down to the Druid's face.
I handed him one of my knives.
Cahir smiled slyly.
The shifter leaned into Mousetrap's ear, a whisper, "let's hope this teaches you something then, shall we?"
The Druid looked at me a moment, then back at the shifter, gasping sharply.
A strange hissing sound erupted from the shifter's lips as he licked the man's ear.
Dead.
My knife returned, I heated it enough for the blood to curl and peel from the blade.
No need to have it rusted.
Standing, the shifter rolled his shoulders, his skin changing like that of a chameleon. Once a young man, he became the aged Druid.
Like wine.
"Trusted by the Witcher," I cocked my head at the Black Knight as he said this, "the perfect weapon."
Witcher.
He addressed his men once more, "let it crumble to the ground. Take whatever prizes you want. By daybreak, we leave."
The army shouted in celebration, rushing to the neighboring homes, raping whatever women still lived, stealing whatever they could afford to carry.
Fringilla ordered the mages to disperse, away from the chaos. I began to follow, before I felt someone grab my arm.
I turned, facing the Black Knight.
His grip became soft as he smiled slightly, "well done."
Proud?
---
I ate like a horse that night.
Us mages, we were often held responsible for the hunt during the journey.
Our magic gave us an advantage, after all. We were able to find the freshest, plumpest game: rabbit, occasional bird, nearly a deer...
While the others ate plenty, I ate more than what would have been expected from a girl my age.
Fifteen.
Innocent?
Given my height, the trek, and the number of power I was using, well...
I felt the bags under my eyes.
My arms and back ached.
My feet were sore.
More so with the exertion I was faced with.
I pitied those soldiers who were not given the luxuries of a horse.
I looked back at them all, "I feel them," I blurted in the middle of silence.
Cahir looked at me, "who?"
I nodded at the troops, "them."
He paused a moment, listening to their heavy breathing, the smell of trees, piss, and sweat.
"We're nearly there, I wouldn't concern yourself."
I pursed my lips, "fine," I said monotonously.
He cocked his head in my direction again, then snuck another at his troops.
He signaled a halt.
My lips parted in surprise, eying his signal and the troops, back and forth.
"Men! We rest five minutes."
I heard them sigh in relief.
Cahir looked at me a moment, then away awkwardly.
I stared, at a loss for words.
When we found a spot, I dismounted, petting my steed and feeding her. I observed the moisture from her breath crispen.
Mine did too.
I rested my head against her shoulder, closing my eyes as I stroked her softly.
"Tired?"
My eyes opened quickly, seeing Fringilla.
Eyes narrowed, I muttered, "perhaps."
She smiled and looked around awkwardly, "you know, we've known each other for weeks, yet I don't think I know you."
"What's there to know?" I asked coolly, shrugging.
"All I know is your name, Mira."
"That is all there is to know, Fringilla."
"I don't quite see how that's fair."
"Well, life isn't fair then."
She pursed her lips, then sigh, "you're right."
She walked briskly to Cahir, who was tending to his sword.
She spoke with him, "perhaps we should continue the walk. I fear we will lose the light soon... Winter is fast approaching after all."
Cahir looked over at me a moment, quickly though when he'd noticed my observation.
He nodded.
My heart sank.
Fringilla looked over at me, a sly expression on her face.
Playing a game?
Taunting me?
The crows cawed.
I gripped her rein tightly in suppressed anger but took a deep breath.
