AN: Hello everyone, this is my fifth fanfiction, and the first in the Witcher X Elder Scrolls Genre, I hope and pray that this turns out well and that unlike the previous fanfictions, I am able to complete it.

A small notice, I have a blog of my own, where I'll be posting updates before I post them here.( they'll be smaller) So, please do follow that if you wish to learn more of the story.

.com

Read on and Enjoy!

Chapter 1

They had found her, once again- it should not have taken her by surprise- they always did find her- but she had managed to hind in this world for the longest so far- four whole peaceful months.

But that didn't matter anymore, she thought bitterly, she had to run once again, jump across space and time, seek shelter elsewhere before doing it all over again.

She was running towards the cliff face, the shrubs scratched and clawed at her arms and legs as she dashed headlong, heedless…. Suddenly, ahead the trees and bushes melted away, like a curtain drawn away, bright, blessed sunlight! The sound of waves crashing over rocks and the salty tangy breeze were taunting her, promising freedom, only if she could take the last step!

She paused at the edge of the precipice, breathing hard, she took in the beautiful vista before her- a red sun was setting over the bay, gulls soared high above, flying towards their nests- how she wished she could stay there a few moments longer, but even as she stood there, she could hear the thundering hooves of the armored mounts of the Wild Hunt- they were close. A final deep breath later and she jumped- headfirst towards the churning waters below!

Kaer Morhen, Midnight

He woke up with a start, the nightmare quite vividly etched into his consciousness- his daughter was in trouble- as usual- but this time, she needed his help, really needed it and he'd be damned if he couldn't come to her aid! His decision made, the White Wolf, as the man was famously known, jumped out of the bed, donned his armor and the two swords- one silver and the other, steel.

The silver was for monsters and the steel- for humans.

Vizima, the Imperial Court of Nilfgaard

Midnight

She knew what her dream meant, knew what she had to do- but there were so many questions, so many things that she yet didn't understand.

Sometimes - sometimes she felt like tearing out her luscious black hair! She called her 'daughter' and she was, of that there was no doubt, but she took after her father in far too much for her liking.

A grim smile, born of memories of happier days, flashed across her face and her violet eyes gleamed with sudden and fierce determination- she would find her sole daughter, no matter the cost!

The Pale, Skyrim, Tamriel

23rd of Frostfall, 4E 409, Midnight

He knew very well that something epoch making was about to occur, he usually did his damnedest to avoid these sort of events- but sometimes, ehh most of the time, he was smack in the middle of it.

His presence in this godsforsaken tundra, with a blizzard in full force howling outside the cave, and a hot, beautiful, immortal vampire, lying down beside him, could be traced back to a dream, the first of a series of as yet unending line up, that came to him two weeks ago.

That first dream, and every dream since, had showed him the very cave he was in, west of the Pale Imperial Camp, along the frozen shore, a cave from where he could see the wreck of the Brinehammer in the distance. In the dreams, he had felt a pressing need to come here, and had a strong gut feeling that he would somehow have to save the world once again (And the Thalmor would claim credit for it, again).

In the beginning, he had determined to completely ignore the dream, he had enough of world saving quests, thank you very much-but alas, the blasted things persisted day after day, and he was forced to set out from his home in Solitude. He knew or rather had a very shrewd guess about who was behind these dreams of his, but alas! He lacked any concrete proof-yet.

Thus, he was here, with the beautiful Serana for company and inspite of himself, he found that he was looking forward to whatever he was going to get involved in. The last few years had been awfully dull, though peaceful.

"The weather is clearing," a melodious voice broke his inner monologue and he turned around to find Serana getting up, and peering out. And indeed, the weather was clearing, the wind had died down and the pale moonlight was shining through the flurry of snow and frost… Momentarily, things became completely calm and the aurorae came out in all their glory.

"It's quiet- too quiet, like the calm before the storm- I don't like this - not one bit," Serana said.

He didn't reply, he had already drawn his sword- 'Vahrot' or 'Oath'- and had stepped outside the cave. She joined him momentarily, her own slender blade drawn and beautiful, if deadly, arcs of raw energy flickering across the fingers of her left hand.

"What is it?," she asked.

"I don't know, but something has shifted in the very fabric of the universe," he replied- his voice, low and grave, no longer was the care-free Thane of all Skyrim visible, in his place was Brynjar- Dovahkiin!

"What do you mean?" she asked again, worry lacing her tone for the first time that night.

"The space around feels like whenever I travel to Apocrypha, the realms of Hermeus Mora. It feels like our realm is being linked to another. This isn't good."

"That sounds ominous… I thought that inter-world travel had been banned by Akatosh- especially after Martin Septim had sacrificed himself- then how?"

"Invasion of Nirn by otherworldly forces is forbidden- but it is impossible to physically close each and every means of accessing this particular realm- given that there are hundreds if not thousands of realms and an infinite number of ways of accessing them. But we're getting ahead of ourselves- we don't know who is coming or what is happening…"

Even as he was speaking, a bright turquoise point of light seemed to manifest itself in front of them, about ten or so feet above the snowy fields in front of them.

A moment later, the light coalesced before exploding outwards in a brilliant shower, blinding the two of them…

When his vision cleared, Brynjar saw a young maiden lying face down in the snow; sparing naught but a glance at Serana, he rushed forward, albeit with sword still drawn.

"She looks human enough, so much about your theory of inter world travel," Serana smirked, punching his shoulder.

"This isn't the only world with humans in it… and look at her hair, ashen? Which human in this world has ashen hair? And the sword is of uncommon design as well, though it seems more, what is the word I'm looking for? Graceful… yes graceful for a longsword… the runes, do you recognize them?"

"No, although they vaguely resemble elven runes…. so, what should we do?"

"Take her into the cave and take care of her till she wakes up, then lets see if she can answer our queries."

The Pale, Skyrim

24th of Frostfall, 4E 409, Early morning.

When she came to, she found herself in a cave, lying on soft furs, with a campfire heartily cracking away somewhere to the left and behind her, warming her legs. She could feel her sword, Zirael, lying by her side. Clearly whoever had found her, meant her no harm. That or they felt that she was no threat.

Naive or superbly skilled in combat.

She got up slowly, and found, greatly to her surprise that her wounds had been all healed… not only the superficial scratches that she had got from her sudden flight through the bushes and brambles but an older deeper wound in her chest had gone as well, the now familiar ache replaced by a welcome wholesomeness.

Even as she stood, fastening her sword to her back, she could tell that she was in a deeper part of the cave, the entrance being slightly ahead of her, a cold draft blowing in from thence. The cave also extended further back. She had been laid down in a small alcove, just perfect for her, the sword and the fire.

Momentarily, she heard a voice, feminine and melodious from the direction of the entrance, and then another, a male, deep and pleasant before stopping. She leant against the wall, in an attempt to eavesdrop on her conversation and yet, found that she couldn't hear anything- not even footsteps!

"You know, its rude to eavesdrop on people, especially when those very people have just rescued you from certain death," the lady said. Ciri had the decency to blush, but defended herself.

"Sorry, but force of habit… I've enemies, very determined and ruthless ones."

At that the lady, who was beautiful, with flowing raven black hair and startlingly crimson eyes that bored into hers, exchanged a glance with someone behind her, making her whirl around to find herself face to face with a man, no, a warrior.

"Well, that's disconcerting, but you're safe here." the man replied, smiling warmly at her. Ciri studied him carefully, yet another man who sought to help her, and who, like others before would come to grief because of her. He was wearing plate armor, black as the deepest pit with blood-red highlights. A cloak, made from the fur of what must have been a great white bear graced his shoulders, and the hilt of a longsword emerged from between his shoulders, with the pommel shaped to resemble a dragon head. The man was tall, with warm brown eyes and dark, almost black hair cropped short in the fashion of soldiers everywhere. He had a handsome face as well, almost in the shape of Geralt himself. As a point of fact, she was very much taken aback by how strongly he resembled Geralt, especially with the sword on his back.

The woman, on the other hand, was very much like a Lady, a high-born one in fact.. with the way she carried herself, proud and arrogant, unafraid to flaunt her beauty… She too was armored, with leather, with plates reinforcing the important areas. There was a slender saber at her waist as well, and a silver rimmed cloak graced her shoulders.

"Introductions first, I think," the man said, smiling still, "I'm Brynjar, Legate of the IXth Northern Heavy Cavalry. My beautiful companion is Serana, a mage"

The now-introduced Serana scoffed at that, as if she found something funny in the introduction, but she didn't elaborate on it.

"I am Cirilla," she struggled for a moment, what was she? Daughter to Geralt and Yennefer? Yes, of course, but what about her elder blood? A witcheress? But she didn't have the twin blades, nor had she completed her training… A princess and heir to all of the North? Yes, but was that something she wanted?

"A witcher." She said eventually.

The pair, and they certainly were one, exchanged a glance again. "Unfamiliar term, 'witcher', but given the pride with which you speak of it, and the sword on your back, are we right in assuming that you're a warrior, of some sort?" the woman asked.

"Yes… witchers are warriors who are paid to kill monsters. We are specially trained to tackle them. I belong to the school of the wolf."

The man had been studying her quite thoroughly, and suddenly leaned forward looking right at her and said, "I'll be blunt; you're not from this world, are you?"

Shocked by the sudden question, Ciri wondered how Brynjar knew. Perhaps it isn't an unusual thing for this world?

"I'll take your silence for a yes. It's very simple, you look like no human of this world, and you speak of things that do not exist here. That means you are either mad, which seems unlikely, or given the way you arrived, and the nature of my dreams, you are from another world. So, what brings you here?"

Brynjar pressed.

"I will be gone soon, I can't stay for long here… Especially when people here know of me." Ciri said, dejected.

"Who said anything about people here knowing anything. Your displacement field was very limited in magnitude and there are no mages anywhere near enough to pick up on it. I came here because I'm unique, tasked with protecting Tamriel; but let us talk about the enemies you mentioned earlier. Am I right that you're fleeing from them?" Brynjar asked.

Ciri nodded, she was getting more and more confused as this conversation progressed. "Yes, I'm running from what is known as the Wild Hunt. A group of spectral horsemen who are hunting me for my blood. They wish to use my blood or rather the latent powers in my blood to travel physically to my world and conquer it."

"Damn elves, always behind every nefarious plot. I used to like elves, you know, they are good, noble people as long as they are not in power. The moment they gain power, they become murdering, racist, bastards!" Serana spat.

Ciri was surprised to hear the venom in the woman's voice and Serana clarified, "there is a group of Aldmeri, or High Elves called the Thalmor who hate mankind and have waged war with the Empire and are as we speak involved in a mass genocide of the Bosmer or Wood Elves and the Khaijit. Tensions are running high between the Aldmeri Dominion and the Empire. War is expected anytime now."

"This Wild Hunt say, Gods forbid, but they manage to capture you and use your power- then theoretically they can come here and invade this realm?"

"Yes, of course. The Wild Hunt has already attacked and massacred the populace of several worlds- leaving them barren and almost uninhabitable. Thats the very reason I've doing my best to evade them," Ciri replied, "And the reason I can't stay here. They can track me whenever I make a jump."

"You will go nowhere. I wanna see just how strong these spectres are. Besides Nirn, or this universe is protected from invasions by otherworldly forces by a sacrosanct covenant, one bound by the blood of a Divine and those of his sons, shed time and time again." Brynjar said decisively, glaring at her, challenging her to argue.

Ciri, surprising herself, agreed. She had been running for so long that sometimes she wished to face her persecutors in combat as well- and this might well be that chance, if everything Brynjar had said was accurate.

"So lets go home, shall we. Cirilla is better but I think she'll appreciate a warm hearth and nourishing soup," Serana intervened and Ciri agreed with great enthusiasm.

Kaer Morhen. The Main hall.

"So, what do you plan to do? Ride all around the continent on Roach and shout 'Ciri' at the top of your voice?!" Vesemir asked. Lambert and Eskel looked on in amusement, as the normally taciturn witcher lost his patience with the White Wolf.

It was a rhetorical question, Geralt knew this, but his own temper was running high. "Damnation! Do you not understand? Ciri, the same Ciri who grew up here, amongst us, is in danger! She is my daughter by mine choice, and I'll not let anyone harm a single hair on her head!"

"An admirable goal, of course. I care about Ciri as well, but my question stands. What do you plan to do? How will you search for your daughter?" Vesemir repeated, calmly.

Geralt sighed, finally admiting to himself the true extent of his helplessness. "What do you suggest I do?" he asked of the older man.

"Contact Yennefer or Triss, both of them care deeply for Ciri and will no doubt aid you in finding her." Vesemir advised, "and to make sure of it, I'll accompany you."

"To Novigrad?!" Geralt asked in surprise, knowing well the old witcher's famed hatred for the city.

"Yes, even to Novigrad, if that is what it takes. For Ciri."

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Geralt said, lets get ready.

The Pale, Skyrim.

24th of Frostfall, 4E 409, Midday.

"So, tell me again- the Navigator is the one who can open and close portals to different worlds, or maybe even call for reinforcements- so if we manage to break his staff, they'll be trapped here, for the time being?" Serana asked of Ciri.

"Yes- Navigators are rare and thus very valuable- we manage to kill of the reconnaissance group that they send first, then they won't send in more immediately- Eredin will deem it too risky. Then a major formation will assault- led by either Caranthir or Imlerith will arrive here. By that time, we can delude them into thinking that I'm elsewhere- difficult, yes but possible." Ciri explained her plan once again.

When Brynjar and Serana had suggested confronting the Wild Hunt, Ciri had been aghast… she tried her best to convince them, but they would have none of it. Brynjar started questioning her about the Wild Hunt's tactics- how would they arrive, numbers and strengths and within what time frame. Ciri was initially reluctant, but given her own desire for some way of hitting them back and the sheer stubbornness of her rescuers meant that she gave in. Eventually she realized that they could actually pull it of- if they were careful.

"We will do no such thing- Ciri, what can you do to make sure that the entirety of the Wild Hunt, including this king, Eredin appear here?"

Ciri was shocked into silence, but she soon recovered, "Are you fucking mad?! They'll slaughter the two of you- and the nearest town in anger, because I'll have to jump again!"

"Just answer the question, young one- and don't worry about us, we have faced worse demons than a spectral army of elven cavalry." Serana chided her.

"I refuse to answer any more of your questions- I'll not help you two with your suicidal delusions!" Ciri shouted, crossing her arms and turning away.

Brynjar laughed aloud, a great from-the-belly laugh, so hard that his eyes watered, "you are one spoilt child! Did I not tell you that invasion of Nirn by otherworldly forces is forbidden; I intend to enforce the covenant between Akatosh and the people of Tamriel- your Wild Hunt will perish in one great fire! Thus, the more of them there are, the better for us!"

Ciri's eyes had widened to comical proportions, her brilliantly jade eyes glimmered with hope! Hope, at last of putting an end to the running and hiding that had so consumed her.

"Very well, there is a way, if I jump again in this world, Eredin will confirm that it is me indeed, and he will arrive in force."

"Okay then, we'll head to Solitude, where you'll arm and recuperate and I'll acquire some supplies and allies- then you'll jump back here- see if that doesn't bring your Spectral riders."

So, how did you find it? Comment and tell me! Besides, remember to follow my blog: .com, updates there are much quicker.