Kyana Of Cintra

22

After Kyana's reassurance, she and Geralt spent the rest of their twenty minute walk talking about how Jaskier's songs have impacted their lives. Jaskier had written many songs about the fierceness of the Witchers, including one about their beauty. Geralt believed he had underestimated Kyana's beauty, while Kyana believed Jaskier didn't praise Geralt's looks enough. 

They came across a sign next to an opening in the hillside, covered in snow, but still there. Geralt and Kyana followed the tunnel up to what appeared to be a castle, aware of the movement of people throughout the tunnel. Kyana pulled her hood up, conscious of being recognized, although Geralt didn't give seven shades of hell. They found the end of the tunnel, full of men working with pick axes, rallying with some talk against their king. Geralt found it all highly amusing.

"You can't kill the vukodlak so you decide to kill your king? Great plan." He stated, showing off in front of the men, which Kyana rolled her eyes at. Silence rung through the crowd as they turned, inspected the man and the cloaked stranger in front of them, seeing the symbols dangling from their necks.

"More fuckin' Witchers." The leading man spat. "Your kind already swindled us once." Geralt, who's golden eyes glistened with the newfound confidence Kyana had given him, remained calm.

"We take payment after the job is done and for a third of the price. An apology from our guild to yours." The man considered this, looking back and forth between the pair and his friends, who shrugged.

"Why should we trust ya if ya won't show your face." Geralt huffed out a laugh.

"Will you be able to handle what's under the hood?" The man looked at him as though he was mental.

"Wha's tha' supposed to mean?" Kyana pulled back her hood, her hair tumbling free in it's beautiful blue brilliance, her eyes shining brightly in the dimly lit room. The men's mouths hung open. "Tha's a woman!"

"I'm glad you noticed." Kyana pulled down her sleeves to their place at her wrists. "This won't be a problem, correct?" It wasn't a question, but a statement. Geralt had always admired that about her; she used the shock factor of her gender to intimidate people the second they met her. 

"No, ma'am" Kyana smiled, confident she would not be judged.

"Good." She clapped her hands together to make some warmth. "What do we have to discuss further?"

"If you can't kill it?" Geralt looked to Kyana, who shrugged.

"Then we die." She said simply. The men stood astounded by her certainty. Milliseconds after her statement hung heavy in the air, men in armour filled the room. Metal crashed against stone  as an army of men flooded into the large area. A General with a small, white area in his beard stepped forward, clearly commanding the army. Geralt and Kyana watched from the wall, calm as ever.

"Please. Everyone remain calm. Lower your weapons and return to your homes. Do so quickly and without further theatrics and you have my word that our king will not hear of this treason." The General spoke out to the men. The leader stepped up to him, all but slurring in his face.

"Foltest commits treason. He hides in his winter castle as we are eaten." The men agreed with him, shaking pitch forks and other sharp blades in agreement. The General looked at the leader with fake sympathy.

"Mikal was a good boy. Revenge will not ease your pain." He put a hand on the leaders shoulder, who shrugged it off and spat on it.

"You know nothing of my pain." At a treasonous gesture, the General's army armed themselves, standing prepared to attack. The leaders men did the same, raising what they had to defend themselves. The General raised a hand, commanding his army to step down, which they did immediately. The leader walked away, his men trudging loyally behind him as he exited the area.

Geralt sighed. "Does Foltest have a plan?" He asked delicately. The General didn't reply, only kept his gaze on Geralt.

"See this one and his lady," He finally noticed Kyana, who he kept his eyes upon for longer than necessary. "to our borders. Temeria's had their fill of Witchers."

They had Geralt and Kyana walk in between four guards on horses, somehow convinced they would kill them all. Geralt, being in a peculiarly light mood, talked airily to Kyana. "You think we're dangerous?"

Kyana turned to him, smiling widely and shrugging her shoulders. "I don't know. Have you ever killed a rat?" Geralt stifled a laugh, looking down for a small second to control himself, before allowing himself to look up into her amused eyes.

"I don't think I can stomach the blood." Kyana breathed out an ironic laugh.

Suddenly, all four of the guards dropped dead on the snowy floor, arrows embedded into their skin. Geralt's eyes went wide, while Kyana drew her sword. 

"Was that you?" He asked Kyana frantically, who shook her head.

"No, that wasn't me." Geralt copied Kyana and drew his sword, pointing it in front of him. Their backs pressed together to keep each other safe while their swords were held at arm's length. Mist covered most of the land they could see, and therefore they relied heavily on their sense of hearing. The trees rustled and the wind blew, the mist rolled gently towards their feet, movements as soft as sighs.

Void of all sounds, Geralt and Kyana started to hear each other's heart beats, the slow, calm rhythm of his soothing the slightly panicked beat of hers. He was always so calm, always thought things over in his head and convinced himself out of fear and panic.

In the darkness, their hearing finally rewarded them. "Witchers." A low, ominous whisper called out into the woods. Both Kyana and Geralt heard it, their heads snapping in all directions to locate the source of the noise. Finally, the two turned around, seeing a figure standing before them. The woman, cloaked in beautiful red fabric, held her hood high.

"You can put down your swords, I'm not here to hurt you." The voice was soft, almost mother like, which surprised Kyana. Kyana laughed, raising her sword higher.

"Tell that to the dead men, Witch."