Wild Hunt

Geralt arrived at the designated meeting spot, a secluded clearing nestled amidst the rugged Skellige landscape, to find Yennefer and Ermion locked in a heated argument. The air crackled with tension, and the faint scent of ozone mingled with Yennefer's usual lilac perfume.

"You reckless fool!" Ermion thundered, his voice echoing through the clearing. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Yennefer, her arms crossed and her expression defiant, retorted, "I did what was necessary. We need answers, Ermion, and that Mask—"

"That Mask is an artifact of immense power!" Ermion interrupted. "Its magic is tied to the very fabric of this island, and you've disrupted its delicate balance!"

Geralt stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "What's going on here? What did you do, Yen?"

Yennefer sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I used the Mask, Geralt. I needed to see what happened."

"Without me?" Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow.

"There wasn't time," Yennefer explained. "I sensed… an opportunity. A window. But it was closing fast. I had to act."

"And now look!" Ermion exclaimed, gesturing towards the sky. Dark clouds swirled ominously overhead, and the air crackled with uncontrolled magic. "You've unleashed a storm, Yennefer! A magical maelstrom that threatens to engulf this entire island!"

Geralt felt a surge of unease. He could sense the chaotic energy swirling around them, a palpable force that pressed against his senses. "Can you stop it?" he asked Ermion.

Ermion shook his head grimly. "I can try to contain it, to mitigate the damage. But the magic… it's unstable. Unpredictable." He turned to Yennefer, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and despair. "This is your doing, Yennefer. You and your insatiable thirst for knowledge!"

With that, Ermion turned and hurried away, his green robes billowing behind him. Geralt watched him go, then turned back to Yennefer.

"Well," he said, "this is certainly… eventful."

Yennefer managed a wry smile. "I do have a knack for causing trouble, don't I?"

Before Geralt could respond, a guttural growl erupted from the nearby bushes. A Foglet, its form shimmering in and out of existence, lunged at Yennefer, its claws outstretched.

"Showtime," Geralt muttered, drawing his silver sword.

The fight was brief but intense. The Foglet was fast and agile, its movements unpredictable. But Geralt was faster. He danced around the creature's attacks, his blade flashing in the dim light. With a final, decisive blow, he severed the Foglet's head, its form dissolving into mist.

"Well, that was invigorating," Yennefer commented, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Though I could have handled it myself."

"I'm sure you could have," Geralt said, sheathing his sword. "But where's the fun in that?"

Yennefer chuckled. "Always the charmer, Geralt." She gestured towards the Mask, which lay on the ground where she had dropped it. "Pick it up. We have work to do."

"What exactly are we doing?" Geralt asked, retrieving the Mask.

"We're going to see what happened," Yennefer explained. "The Mask only works in specific locations, places where magic is exceptionally strong. I'll guide you, and you'll use the Mask to see the echoes of the past."

"And how exactly do we do that?" Geralt asked, examining the Mask. It was a beautifully crafted artifact, its polished obsidian surface cool to the touch.

"You'll see," Yennefer said, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. "Just… trust me."

She led him to the first location, a circle of standing stones perched precariously on a cliff overlooking the churning sea. Lime green sparks shimmered in the air, marking the spot where the Mask's power would be amplified.

"Stand there," Yennefer instructed, pointing to the center of the circle. "And put on the Mask."

Geralt did as he was told. As he donned the Mask, the world around him shifted, blurring and distorting. He felt a strange pull, a sensation of being drawn into… something else.

"Now what?" he asked, his voice muffled by the Mask.

"Just… focus," Yennefer said. "I'm going to cast a spell. I'll see what you see."

Geralt closed his eyes, concentrating on the strange energy swirling around him. He felt a connection, a link forming between his mind and Yennefer's. And then, he saw it.

A vision. A scene from the past.

He saw two figures emerge from a swirling portal, their forms shimmering with residual magic. One was tall and imposing, clad in dark armor. The other… the other was smaller, more agile. She moved with a grace and fluidity that Geralt recognized instantly.

"That's… Ciri," he said, his voice filled with disbelief. "She moves like a witcher."

The vision faded, leaving Geralt disoriented and breathless. He removed the Mask, blinking against the sudden return of the real world.

"What did you see?" Yennefer asked, her voice eager.

"Ciri," Geralt confirmed. "She was here. She came through a portal."

"With someone else," Yennefer added. "A powerful mage, by the looks of it."

"We need to see more," Geralt said, his mind racing. "Where to next?"

Yennefer led him to another location, a crumbling ruin of an ancient temple. Again, the Mask revealed a vision – a scene of chaos and destruction, with figures battling amidst swirling energy. Geralt recognized the distinctive armor of the Wild Hunt.

"They were here," he said grimly. "The Wild Hunt."

They continued their investigation, moving from location to location, each vision revealing another piece of the puzzle. They saw glimpses of the Wild Hunt's activities, their attempts to summon the portal, their pursuit of Ciri.

Finally, after the fourth vision, Geralt and Yennefer collapsed onto a moss-covered rock, exhausted and overwhelmed.

"This is… a lot to process," Yennefer admitted, her voice weary.

"We need to find Ciri," Geralt said, his voice filled with determination. "But where do we start?"

Just then, Ermion emerged from the nearby trees, his face etched with concern. "I felt another surge," he said. "The storm… it's worsening."

"We need your help, Ermion," Yennefer said. "We need to understand what we saw."

Ermion listened intently as they recounted their visions. When they were finished, he remained silent for a moment, deep in thought.

"The figures you saw," he said finally. "We need to find their remains. Their bodies will hold clues."

"But where do we look?" Geralt asked.

"The visions," Ermion said. "They showed you where they fell."

And so, the search began. They scoured the island, following the clues from the visions, until they finally discovered a body near the unstable portal. It wasn't Ciri's. The remains were badly decomposed, but Ermion, with his knowledge of arcane markings and residual magic, was able to identify him as a member of the Wild Hunt.

"This confirms it," Ermion said grimly. "The Wild Hunt was involved. he was part of their group."

"But where's Ciri?" Yennefer asked, her voice laced with anxiety. "The vision showed her coming through the portal with him."

Geralt examined the area around the portal, his witcher senses on high alert. He noticed something the others had missed: faint tracks leading away from the portal, tracks that were too small to belong to the hulking Wild Hunt mage. They were also lighter, more agile.

"These tracks…" Geralt said, pointing to the barely visible indentations in the earth. "They're Ciri's. She made it through the portal, but she didn't stay with them."

"You think she escaped?" Yennefer asked, a flicker of hope in her eyes.

"It's more than that," Geralt said, his gaze fixed on the tracks. "Look at the direction they're heading. They're not running. They're moving purposefully, as if she knows where she's going."

"And look here," Ermion added, pointing to a patch of disturbed earth. "There are traces of another presence. Smaller than the mage, but… significant. Someone was with her."

"An ally," Geralt realized. "Someone who helped her escape."

"But who?" Yennefer wondered.

"That, we don't know," Ermion admitted. "But it's clear Ciri isn't a prisoner. She's on her own, or with someone she trusts. That changes everything."

"It means we have a chance," Geralt said, a surge of renewed determination coursing through him. "We need to follow these tracks. They'll lead us to her."

"But wait," Yennefer interjected, her brow furrowed. "Consider the vision again. The mage… he wasn't just standing there. He was… struggling. As if he was trying to stop someone from coming through the portal."

"You're right," Geralt said, recalling the fleeting images. "He was definitely resisting something."

"And the wound on his body," Ermion added. "It's clean, precise. Not the kind of wound inflicted by a Wild Hunt weapon. It's more… skilled."

"Like a witcher's blade," Geralt finished. "Or someone trained in the same style."

"Someone like Ciri," Yennefer whispered.

"It's possible," Ermion confirmed. "If she was forced through that portal, she would have fought back. And if she was facing a member of the Wild Hunt… she would have fought to survive. This mage… he was her enemy, not her escort. She and her ally killed him."

"So Ciri escaped," Yennefer said, a mixture of relief and worry in her voice. "But she's also fighting back. She's not a passive victim."

"Which makes her even more dangerous to them," Geralt said grimly. "They won't tolerate defiance. They'll hunt her down relentlessly."

"And we need to find her before they do," Yennefer finished.

"That, I don't know," Ermion admitted. "But we need to find Ciri. And we need to find her fast."

He revealed that the Wild Hunt had been sighted on Hindarsfjall, another island in the Skellige archipelago.

"Hindarsfjall," Geralt repeated. "That's our next stop."

As they prepared to leave, Geralt felt a surge of determination. He would find Ciri. He would protect her. And he would uncover the truth behind the Wild Hunt's plans, no matter the cost. He knew now, more than ever, that Ciri was in danger, a pawn in a game far larger than he could have imagined. But he also knew that she wasn't helpless. She was a fighter. And that gave him hope.