The journey back from the Seer's hut was somber. Alina couldn't shake the weight of the Seer's words. "Destiny is a blade that cuts both ways." Her presence here wasn't random. Someone had brought her to the Continent, and that someone had a plan—a plan that could shape the fate of this world. It felt too big, too overwhelming. She wasn't a hero or a warrior; she was just a woman who'd been trying to escape her mundane life. Now, she was a pawn in a game she didn't understand.
"You're quiet." Geralt said, his voice breaking through the fog of her thoughts.
Alina glanced at him. "Just... thinking."
He grunted, his usual response to most things. "Don't get lost in it. Overthinking will get you killed here."
"Helpful." she muttered, though she knew he was right. She didn't have the luxury of wallowing in fear or uncertainty. This world didn't stop for anyone, least of all her.
They returned to Novigrad a few days later. The city, with its bustling streets and air of danger lurking just beneath the surface, felt oddly comforting after the desolation of the marshes. Yennefer had gone ahead to the mage conclave to search for more information about the hooded figure and their connection to Alina. Geralt and Alina, meanwhile, found temporary lodging in a small, nondescript inn near the docks.
Alina sat by the window of their shared room, staring out at the bustling harbor below. She could hear the faint shouts of dockworkers and the creak of ships swaying in the water. It was a strange kind of peace, one that didn't last long.
"You'll wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that." Alina said, glancing over at Geralt, who had been moving restlessly around the room.
"Waiting isn't my strong suit." he admitted.
"Yeah, I've noticed." She leaned back in her chair. "What happens next?"
Geralt stopped and looked at her. "That depends on what we learn from Yennefer. Until then, we stay out of trouble."
Alina raised an eyebrow. "Staying out of trouble? That doesn't sound like you."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Fair point. But this time, we don't have a choice. Whatever brought you here is powerful. We can't afford to act without knowing what we're dealing with."
His words settled like a stone in her stomach. She appreciated his honesty, but it didn't make the waiting any easier.
That night, Alina dreamt of fire. She was standing in a field, the sky ablaze with a fiery orange hue. Figures moved around her, their faces obscured by smoke and shadow. She could hear faint whispers, a language she didn't understand but felt drawn to. In the distance, she saw a figure standing on a hill, cloaked in black. Their presence was suffocating, yet she couldn't look away.
"Alina." The figure called, their voice echoing in her mind.
She tried to move toward them, but her legs felt heavy, like she was wading through thick mud. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, until they drowned out everything else. The figure raised their hand, and the world around her shattered like glass.
Alina jolted awake, her heart racing. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the window. She sat up, trying to catch her breath.
"Bad dream?" Geralt's voice came from the shadows.
She turned to see him sitting in a chair, his sword resting against his leg. He looked as if he hadn't slept at all.
"Yeah." she admitted, running a hand through her hair. "It felt... real."
Geralt nodded, his gaze steady. "Dreams often are, in this world. Especially for people like you."
"People like me?" she echoed.
"You're connected to something bigger. Dreams can be a way of seeing—things that were, things that are, and things that might be."
The thought sent a chill down her spine. "I saw... someone. The hooded figure. They were calling my name."
Geralt's expression darkened. "It means they're not done with you. You should be ready."
"For what?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He didn't answer. Instead, he rose from the chair and crossed the room to the window, staring out at the city. His silence said enough. Whatever was coming, it wasn't going to be easy.
The next morning, a messenger arrived at the inn. The young boy, no older than ten, handed Geralt a folded piece of parchment before darting away. Geralt read the message, his face betraying nothing, then handed it to Alina.
"Come to the western gate at dusk. Y."
"Yennefer." Alina said, recognizing the initial.
Geralt nodded. "Looks like she found something."
Alina's stomach churned with a mix of anticipation and dread. She didn't know what Yennefer had discovered, but she had a feeling it would change everything.
The sun was setting as they reached the western gate. Yennefer was waiting for them, her expression as inscrutable as ever. She motioned for them to follow her, leading them to a secluded spot outside the city walls.
"I found something." she said once they were alone. "But you're not going to like it."
"Out with it." Geralt said.
Yennefer's gaze shifted to Alina. "The hooded figure you saw—they're part of an ancient order, one that predates most known history. They call themselves the Weavers of the Thread. Their goal is to manipulate the fabric of reality, to shape the Continent according to their will."
Alina felt a chill run down her spine. "Why me? What do I have to do with this?"
"You're an anomaly." Yennefer said. "Someone from another world—a world they've only glimpsed through fragments of magic. Your existence here is a tear in the fabric they seek to control. And they're not done with you because you're the key to something they want."
"What do they want?" Geralt asked, his tone sharp.
Yennefer hesitated. "Power. Control. And the ability to rewrite fate itself."
The weight of her words hung heavy in the air. Alina's mind raced, her thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. She had wanted an escape, an adventure. But now, she was at the center of something far more dangerous than she'd ever imagined.
"What do we do?" she asked, her voice steady despite the fear bubbling beneath the surface.
Yennefer met her gaze. "We fight. But first, we need to understand what you are truly capable of. If they see you as a key, then you must learn how to wield that power—before they use it against you."
The resolve in Yennefer's eyes was unwavering, and for the first time since she arrived in this world, Alina felt a flicker of hope. Whatever lay ahead, she wasn't alone. And if this world demanded she fight for her place in it, she was ready to rise to the challenge.