Prologue (Part 2)

Late at night...

"Mom! What did they do to you!!" Ciri woke up with a scream, drenched in sweat. She had dreamt of Yennefer, the sorceress she viewed as a mother, being tortured in a cold, damp dungeon, her hands covered in dried, blackened blood.

She knew this wasn't just a dream, but a genuine fragment of reality. As a unique Source with the Elder Blood, the lineage granted her not only vast, uncontrollable magical power but also the ability to traverse time and space.

This bloodline made her a target for powerful, evil sorcerers. The realization that her loved ones—those she cherished and who cherished her—were being harmed in attempts to capture her and seize her power made her tremble uncontrollably.

She knew she had to leave. Her vacation was over; she had to go back... had to... face her destiny, even if it meant enduring the most unbearable humiliation.

As everyone knew, there was no genetic cloning in the medieval era, and if there were no specific magical means to extract the bloodline, only one method remained.

The door opened. Victor walked into the room and sat down, reaching out to pat her back gently. "Having a nightmare?"

Her past experiences had made her a woman who didn't trust easily, but after half a year together, she couldn't reject Victor—this young, simple, steady, and sensible boy.

She suddenly hugged Victor tightly, sobbing as she confessed her true identity, the pain of her past, and the reason she had to leave now.

I've become weak in front of him, she thought. But I have to tell him. My dearest little brother, he deserves to know the truth before I leave him forever.

"So, your name isn't Falca, but Ciri. You're not a traveler from beyond the mountains and the sea, but a traveler from another world; a princess of the Kingdom of Cintra, a Source with a mysterious bloodline capable of wielding powerful magic.

A group of evil Aen Elle elves from another world kidnapped you, trapped you in their realm, and wanted to force you to bear a child with their king to obtain your bloodline.

Fortunately, you found a chance to escape.

Then, after many twists and turns, you traveled to our world and collapsed at my doorstep.

Today, half a year later, you learned in a dream that a powerful sorcerer in your original world has kidnapped and tortured the woman you see as a mother, so you must return to save her." Victor, held tight and forced to listen to the explanation, summarized it with a pained expression, struggling to catch his breath.

Although Ciri's description had many vague points, Victor could fully discern the unspeakable, even discordant parts.

"Hard to believe, right? But everything I said is true. I'm sorry for using a fake name at the beginning. Please forgive me," Ciri murmured.

"No, I believe every word you said, truly."

Victor believed her, and Ciri could feel that he wasn't lying. This realization made her eyes well up with tears.

Only Victor knew that the reason he had liked the young girl when they first met half a year ago was that her appearance stirred a distant memory. A long, long time ago, before he transmigrated to Bell Town, there was a game called The Witcher 3, which happened to feature a woman named Ciri who had the same silver-gray hair, emerald-green oval eyes, and a deep scar under her eye.

His affection for the girl half a year ago had started as a projection of his nostalgia for Earth.

So, when her current description aligned perfectly with his memories, he could find no reason not to believe her.

On the roadside a few miles from town, Ciri, having packed her belongings, held her horse as Victor bid her a reluctant farewell.

"Will you forget me?" After a sudden, quiet silence, they both asked at the same time.

The strange synchronicity made them look at each other and smile.

"I won't forget you, my dear brother."

"Neither will I, Ciri."

"Why won't you call me sister?"

"That's difficult, Ciri, especially since I've been the one taking care of a life-incompetent person like you for the past six months."

As he spoke, Victor took two blue vials from the herb pouch he never left home without and tucked them into the girl's waist bag. "Take these potions. They can save your life if you're injured. They aren't the substandard ones I make; they're the premium ones my grandmother left me."

"Thank you..."

Recalling the dreamlike, beautiful pastoral life of the past six months, Ciri fell into melancholy until a sudden, biting chill snapped her awake.

"No, the Aen Elle elves are here."

Ciri leaped onto her horse, seeing countless ripples appearing in the surrounding space—the sign of a space portal opening. She realized she couldn't leave Victor behind; she couldn't abandon him to these cruel elves.

"Get on, quickly." With a surge of strength in her arm, she pulled Victor onto the horse. Ciri let out a sharp cry: "Hold on to me!"

With a squeeze of her legs, Kelpie galloped off.

Amidst the jolting, Victor looked back to see armored knights, dressed like the Lich King, swarming out of the gradually opening portals with angry roars, pursuing them without hesitation. Unable to help himself, he whispered, "This is the classic, indispensable chase scene of an epic story!"

Ciri ignored him, focusing her mind. The outline of a door suddenly opened in front of the horse, revealing a swirling, pearlescent vortex within.

Amidst the full-effect light and shadow, on the sturdy, warm back of Kelpie, Victor held onto Ciri, the girl who wanted to be his sister, and experienced his first "conscious" traversal—a bit dizzy, uncomfortable, sickening, and faint.

Kaer Morhen—meaning "Old Sea Fortress" in the Elder Speech, the castle where Wolf School witchers were trained and their home. Ciri had lived here for several years in the past. She was glad she had successfully navigated to this location, and even more glad to see the surprised expression of Uncle Vesemir, who was repairing a wooden practice dummy in the courtyard.

She lifted the unconscious Victor off the horse and placed him gently on a pile of hay in the courtyard.

"Ciri, how did you appear here?" Vesemir recognized Ciri easily, despite the sorcerous way she had arrived. "Geralt and Yennefer have been searching everywhere for you."

Ciri stepped forward and hugged Vesemir. "I know, I know they are waiting for me. I have to go to them immediately.

Listen, Uncle Vesemir, I don't have time to explain, but this child... he is my brother, someone very important to me. I want to ask you to look after him, just as you looked after me back then. He saved my life, and he is very... very important to me."

Seeing Ciri's serious and earnest expression, the confused Vesemir could only nod in agreement. He watched as she kissed Victor's forehead, mounted Kelpie, and vanished through a portal like a bolt of lightning, disappearing from the courtyard of Kaer Morhen.

Her teleportation once again successfully locked onto the nightmare location: Stygga Castle, where the sorceress Yennefer was being held captive.

However, it had to be said that Ciri was still too young and too naive at this time. She believed she possessed plenty of bargaining chips, and two consecutive, long-awaited successful teleports made her feel she held a significant advantage. She didn't even realize her opponent was capable of interfering with and blocking her ability to travel.

Thus, full of confidence, she walked openly into the castle to demand negotiations, only to be beaten black and blue and tied to a specially designed chair to endure "re-education."

Fortunately, just before the final act, her foster father, the White Wolf Geralt—whose fate was intertwined with her own—arrived with his search party just in time to prevent the tragedy and rescue both Yennefer and Ciri.

In the end, Geralt joined forces with Yennefer to confront the evil sorcerer, while Ciri faced the cruel mercenary in a single duel, unfolding their fated confrontation.