In her quarters, the empress was giving orders to her most distinguinshed commanders.
An official envoy entered the room, bloodied, his clothes torn apart.
His message was swift and clear:
“Monsters are everywhere in Kovir, people are being hunted down by shadowy creatures. The mages there have trouble containing the situation, the king himself is threatened and his heirs are locked away in a secret room of the castle. Redania and Kaedwen are losing soldiers every day along their frontiers.”
Ciri looked at Alari, now nineteen years old. She had adopted the young man when he was just thirteen and orphan, after seeing him fight back a pack of wolves with his torch to protect his young sister.
“It’s time,” said the empress.
The young man’s eyes changed, they not only understood the responsibility of the task, but desired it as well.
“What can I do to help?” he asked, with determination in his voice.
“You already know,” Ciri said with a smile.
As she left the room, a dignitary from the duchy of Toussaint addressed her:
“But your grace, ruling is your destiny,” he shouted.
Ciri continued walking.
“I renounced my destiny once, I will do it again.”
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Wind’s Howling...
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