The Ash Tree - A Witcher FanFiction

{07}

Cahir did not talk with me as we traveled to our next point of focus. 

A fort, surrounded by dense forest.

Us mages, we warned each other of the imminent threat. Whosoever was left of Aretuza prepared for our arrival.

We sensed them.

Though I'd only heard stories of Aretuza, I saw how my sisters' posture shifted, tense.

They feared their teachers. They feared the betrayal, the guilt.

The light would betray us soon.

When we'd arrived, dozens of fiery arrows rained down. Several of our men were hit.

Cahir and I dismounted our horses, careless to their panicked existence as they fled.

I prepared myself to engulf the fort in flames, but was halted by the first words Cahir spoke to me the entire day, "not yet."

We stood atop a hill, the mages and a handful of soldiers standing behind us. We watched as our troops tried desperately to break down the walls.

Cahir looked to one of the mages, who stepped forward, conjuring an orb of fire. She shot it, a blast of force landed within the fort. I looked in horror as she painfully turned to ash.

I cocked my head at Cahir, concern and betrayal written across my face. He dared not look at me.

When the first blast did nothing, another mage was brought forth. She swallowed hard, conjuring yet another orb. A flame erupted within the fort as several of our enemies screamed and fell. I dared not look at the cloak of my fallen sister.

Cahir turned to the troops situated behind us, nodding them over to the battle, as more mages sacrificed themselves.

Frustrated, the Black Knight grunted, then turned to me. "Take over for me, will you?" he beckoned toward the mages.

With that, he stormed off.

Keep fighting them.

A voice entered my mind. It was cool and panicked at the same time.

It was from a woman.

I scanned the fort as our mage supply continued to release their life force into the fort. Just as one of the blasts broke the door of the fort and another mage stepped forth, I put my arm to the side, stopping her.

I spotted a woman exiting the fort, clutching her side, the breeze pushing her raven black hair from her face. She twisted her hands strangely, Nilfgaardian troops falling in pain.

You're like me.

I looked at Fringilla, "wait here."

Her lips parted, "and where are you going?"

I narrowed my eyes, "to find answers."

The light betrayed us, night fell.

I crept through the forest, following the strange woman as she limped atop a rock. She looked around, soldiers killing mages, death everywhere.

Then she screamed, flame erupting from her hands. She cried as rage and sorrow erupted from her heart. As Nilfgaardian troops screamed in anguish, I observed blood seeping from her nose, ears, eyes, and mouth.

You're like me.

In seconds, hundreds of our men lay charred on the ground. Ashen trees turned to dust, and the fort we sought to gain control over, turned into a frame of blackness.

She did something then, she drew the flames back into her hands. Whatever heat left flickered away, like embers.

Control?