Kyana Of Cintra

9

Geralt dreamt. Long into the night, when the moon shone brilliantly through the leaves of the trees, and Kyana had long gone to sleep. He groaned, getting louder and louder as his head tossed back and forth, sweat gathering on his forehead as his eyebrows furrowed. Kyana's eyes flickered open. She yawned, curious as to why she was up, until she heard Geralt crying out in his sleep.

In the dream, it was Renfri speaking to Geralt. "You were in the market. Covered in blood. You say you can't choose, but you had to. And you'll never know if you were right. Your reward will be a stoning. And you will run. You will try to outrun the girl in the woods, but you cannot - She is your destiny."

Kyana shook him gently, whispering his name to lull him out of his nightmare. Geralt could hear her in his sleep, but couldn't shake out of the dream. Kyana hesitated at first, unsure if she should touch him or not. She chose to place her hands on his shoulders, gently shaking them back and forth. Kyana sat with him for around an hour. Through that time, he didn't wake. Kyana knew he was so deep in sleep, no physical contact would wake him. Kyana rested her back against a log, her arm resting on her propped up leg, waiting until he finally shot up. His posture was as straight as a board, his skin glistening with sweat. Geralt's hair fell limply around his face, yet he saw Kyana watching him curiously from her log. 

"It's Renfri. There's something wrong, she was telling me something." He held his hands to his head, as though trying to force himself to remember. Geralt looked up. "She kept mumbling something about blood, choosing and stoning." He paused as he realized. "The market."

Kyana picked herself up, packing everything away and placing the blanket and saddle on her horse. Kyana had been around seers before, and had even had a few visions herself, therefore she knew better than to ask questions. Geralt carelessly tossed everything into his satchel to throw it onto the saddle. To prepare for a fight, each collected their swords, attaching them to their belts. Heaving themselves onto their horses, the pair left whatever minor possessions they had in pursuit of their reckless acquaintance. 

The horses were left in the stables, as they had been the previous day, in the care of a very nice stable boy who fed them carrots when no one was watching. Wearing leathers and blue, loose shirts, the Witcher necklace glistened against the cool colours, swinging back and forth. Fury shone in Geralt's face, although Kyana was unsure why. His hair was everywhere, seen as he hadn't combed it. They rounded the corner like a storm, Kyana stopping just in front of Geralt. Sure enough, Renfri's men stood waiting for them. The bald, tall man, who Kyana presumed was the leader under Renfri, spoke.

"She knew you'd come." He said snottily, a slimy grin pulling onto his face.

"Where is Renfri." Geralt demanded, coolly looking at the man before him. Both Witcher knew she had cheated them and had gone back on her word to leave Blaviken. The question was, had she already commenced her revenge? 

"She's at the tower with your little friend, Marilka." His tone struck a cord with Kyana. Marilka, through her gory, bloodthirsty self, was a kind enough girl who was stuck in a muddy, dreary town. Renfri dragged her into her mess, and it was wrong. 

"She gave us a message to pass on to you." Another man called out. "You'll have to choose the lesser evil." Kyana closed her eyes, unsure of what to do. Geralt's jaw clenched, angry beyond words at her obvious jape. Kyana's eyes snapped open when a man drew his sword, declaring that it was an ultimatum.

Geralt's fist clenched around the sword hilt. He looked towards Kyana, who nodded once, letting him know she was ready for the fight it would take to bring Marilka to safety and to redeem Renfri.  With a gentle sigh, Geralt breathed out a curse. "Fuck."

Simultaneously, Kyana and Geralt drew their swords, swinging them into place in their hands. A single arrow flew through the air towards Geralt, which was extremely easy for Kyana to deflect by throwing up the sword to slash through the air. The arrow hit the blades edge at an angle that made it ricochet and hit the archer in the heart. He dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.

Kyana glared at the men in front of her. Geralt didn't even need to move when the man came at her. She swung her sword up, cutting him up from the stomach. He collapsed to the floor, and she shoved her sword through his head, pulling it forward with such force that it ripped clean through his head, splitting it in half.

Geralt stepped forward to fight his own share of men after noticing that she could, in fact, take care of herself. A man came towards him, to which Geralt shoved his sword up to deflect the blow. Once the familiar clang and vibrations of the steel hitting steel had prevented Geralt's death. Geralt pulled his sword down so quickly it whistled, slicing through his opponents stomach. Another man came towards the pair, this time Kyana took it. The man made the mistake of swinging his sword above his head, giving her time to impale his leg with her blade. When he fell to the ground, she retracted her blade and decapitated him with one, fail swoop over her head.

Geralt brought his sword up to a man about to attack Kyana from behind, grunting at him as he slit apart his face and neck with one fail swoop, dislocating his jaw and practically removing his head from his shoulders. The next came at Kyana, lunging at her in an attempt to overpower her. She darted around the blade, spinning her body and cutting off his hand. When he crouched down, she shoved her sword through his spine ruthlessly.

Another man held a crossbow, although his fingers trembled when he pointed it at Geralt. Geralt held absolutely no hesitance, heaving his sword through the air to land in the man's chest. He pulled the sword quickly out of the chest cavity, walking forward with Kyana, who was already swinging her sword in preparation for the next sorry soul that dared cross her sword.

Geralt used some of his powers, a force field of blue shooting the men backwards. A man approached Kyana first, throwing his sword forward. She deflected, twisting around with unbelievable speed and shoving her sword through his neck, all but nailing him to the wall like a whimsical, bloody Christmas decoration. Geralt allowed the next man to lunge for him, knowing he would make no difference to Geralt's cause. Geralt caught his opponents wrist next to his hip, forcefully jamming his sword into the man's side, ripping out an artery and taking his sword as he fell.

The last man. The only one left, having watched all eleven of his men massacred. He held a long, two handled blade, using it to deflect Geralt's astonishingly strong blow. He had one sword pulling downwards while the other deflected a hit. He held the man in place while Kyana shoved her sword through his right shoulder. Geralt pulled one of the swords from it's place, using it to puncture the man's chest and leave him nailed to the wall. 

Geralt stepped back, enjoying every second of it, and decapitated the last, leading man.