The Witcher: Story of the Black Cat

Ep. 7

Prologue

"You cannot deny your path!"

Faiza is jolted awake by the same message that continues to haunt her mind. She's finally been sleeping better than she's ever slept before. Except for that repetitive disruption. She slowly sits up in their shared bed. She was sure he'd be gone by now. But they've been by each other's side every day for the past year. And she's never wanted anything different. She moves to the edge of the bed and reaches for her pitcher of water. She feels his fingertips trace the scars on her back. His touch, the perfect mix of masculinity and gentleness.

"I never thought I'd feel this close to anyone," he begins. She looks over her shoulder at him, and the word slips out,

"Else?" He slowly moves his eyes to hers. She can read his irritation. He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling.

"Hm." She knows she's spoiled the moment but can't figure out how to redeem it. She pulls her dark curls into a tight bun on the top of her head, takes in a deep breath, and pushes out her own annoyance. He sits up and reaches out to lightly pull on the section of hair that she's kept hidden. The snow-white hue pushes him to question,

"The Changes?" Faiza nods and looks at the floor. He turns her towards him and lifts her chin. "You too?"

"Yes."

"Why do you hide it?"

"It reminds me of failure. They said I wasn't like the others. That they had only known one other who could withstand the trials as I had." She lifts an eyebrow and tilts her head. He catches on and smiles proudly. She pushes him back and lays her head on his chest. "It was another choice I made against my uncle's will. It was the worst pain I had ever endured, but pain I knew I could survive. But my uncle's belief in me was contrary to my own and I never completed it. He thought he would lose me."

"That's not failure. It's strength," he says as he runs his fingers through her coils. She looks up to find his eyes moving quickly across her face like he's trying to find out more. "That's why your eyes..." Faiza nods. "What color were they before?"

"They were black as night," she repeats her uncle's description, "Just like my mother's. Until then. That was only the beginning. Who knows what color they would have been had I finished?" Geralt sits her up, rests his forehead on hers, and places his hand on the back of her neck. He closes his eyes and lets out a light breath. She holds on to his wrist and closes hers too.

"The things I learn when we actually talk." He laughs and presses his lips to hers.

SEVEN

The two leave the small cottage they found during a hunt near Peixe de Mar.

"This is the first time your Sight has separated us since Caingorn," Geralt says as he straps his things to Roach.

"I know. I don't want it any more than you do, but it's never been wrong," Faiza replies as she does the same with Amina. Although no one would be able to tell by his tone, Faiza can feel his disappointment. Or maybe it's her own. She tries to add optimism to the heaviness of the moment. "And besides, neither contract should keep us too long."

"Hm." He pulls her arm to turn her towards him and looks deeply into her eyes. He rests his forehead on hers. "Remember. Things aren't always what they seem in Brokilon." Faiza nods. "Maybe I sho—" She pulls away and pushes his chest.

"You don't think I can handle myself?" Geralt smirks and pulls her back into him.

"I know you can."