— –Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon– —
"Do you trust me, Ciri?"
He'd asked it after the strange encounter with the merchant, Gaunter O'Dimm. The question had sat in her chest ever since. Her instincts had told her not to answer, that questions like that never came without strings attached. But in the end, she'd said yes. Maybe because it was hard not to. Alex trusted her, believed in her in a way few ever had, and part of her couldn't help but return it.
Now, she rode alone.
The air was colder out here, far from Novigrad's noise and smoke. Frost clung to the edges of her gloves, the sun already dipping low. Her horse's hooves broke the silence with a steady rhythm, carrying her toward a half-collapsed village swallowed by fog. A fool's errand, she thought. A distraction. She should've been looking for a cure for Avallac'h, chasing leads, anything but this.
"We can't keep running."
That's what Alex had said. He had less than two months left in this world, two months to master his ability to travel between worlds. To find a way back to Limbo, and back to his world. To find a way to escape Belasco. Less than two months to prepare for a fight he couldn't win.
Two months... That was nothing.
The world really did love to mock her. Every time something good came along, time tore it away again.
Ciri slowed her horse, the shape of the ruined village rising out of the fog. She let out a quiet breath, half a laugh, half defeat.
"This is stupid, isn't it?" She muttered, reaching for the medallion that wasn't there. Her hand stopped mid-air, the memory of the Crones tearing it away still sharp. She dropped her hand, clenching it once before letting it fall to her lap.
Alex had said he had a plan. To deal with the Wild Hunt. To buy them time. He'd sounded so sure, so utterly certain, that for a heartbeat, she'd believed him. She'd seen the fire in his eyes, the same kind she'd once seen in Yennefer's eyes whenever she was sure of something. That same stubborn, reckless certainty that made her want to believe too.
But she knew better.
The Wild Hunt couldn't be beaten. Not like that. She'd seen what they left behind, villages turned to ash, people frozen where they stood, whole worlds left hollow.
The only way to win was to kill them, but you couldn't kill what could simply step between worlds and vanish the moment things turned for the worse. You couldn't stop the Wild Hunt by catching them in a trap. After all, that trap couldn't hold them when teleporting was like breathing to them.
Maybe, if they'd called them out in Novigrad, the city's chaos could've bought them a chance, a few minutes, maybe, to hurt them. Force a retreat. But kill them? No. Not unless you had every Witcher alive standing beside you, every sorceress willing to burn themselves out for one final spell.
And even then, they'd come back. They always did.
If their magic alone wasn't enough, their strength was. Each of them was built faster and heavier than any human could match. She wasn't sure she could take one of them in a straight fight. Their armor was too thick, too well-crafted, warded against magic and steel alike. Maybe someone like Geralt could pierce through the gaps if he was lucky, or if one of them was foolish enough to take off their helmet. But her? Even with her speed, she'd be lucky to leave a scratch.
Magic wouldn't help much either. She'd seen spells crackle uselessly against their armor, seen mages dragged down and cut apart before they could even finish their incantations. Against the Hunt, power only bought you a slower death.
Ciri tightened her grip on the reins. She hated that feeling, the helplessness crawling just beneath her skin. The Hunt thrived on that. On fear. On the knowledge that no matter how strong you were, they would still find you.
So she rode, because moving was better than thinking.
"Do you trust me, Ciri?"
The question echoed again, softer this time, almost taunting. She clicked her tongue, urging her horse into a faster pace.
"I swear…" She muttered, the wind snatching her words away. "If it works…"
She didn't finish, but a faint grin tugged at her lips anyway. If it worked, maybe she'd finally believe in his impossible confidence.
The village came into view a moment later. Burnt houses, broken fences, the faint stench of rot hanging in the air. Her horse balked, snorting and pulling back, but Ciri was already swinging her leg over the saddle. Her boots hit the ground with a crunch.
Dozens of shapes moved among the ruins, ghouls, drowners, corpses walking where the living once stood. A Basilisk had likely started it, judging by the scattered bones and claw marks. The monsters that came after were just scavengers, drawn by the feast.
Ciri drew her sword with a single smooth motion. The silver edge caught the dying light, glinting like ice.
— –Illyana Rasputin– –
Closing the door behind her, Illyana let out a long breath. For a moment she just stood there, her back pressed against the cold wooden door with her eyes closed. She could feel the heartbeat in her chest.
Her hands were trembling, but she wasn't sure if she was afraid or not. Perhaps it was just the nerves, or perhaps it was just her excitement.
Yeah, that was probably it. She had spent too long preparing for this day to be scared. Right?
Well, there was also the chance the shaking in her hands was from a slight amount of doubt and regret.
Really, she wished she knew how to control her emotions better. But there was only so much she could control when she was not only doing something incredibly risky, but also betraying the trust of someone who treated her as if she were her own daughter.
Well, not that breaking her trust was something she wasn't used to.
After all, it was how she had gotten this far.
Reinforcing the ward on her bedroom, Illyana finally took in a deep breath before stepping forward and using the magic Ororo had taught her to begin carving a magic circle in the floor of her room.
A magic circle of her own creation…. Or well, a magic circle she had created with a lot of help, but one that was her own. A lot of help from someone Ororo had tried to steer her away from.
"Child, Limbo does not grant power. It takes it. Piece by piece. Do not let it turn you into a Monster."
She had warned her countless times, told her that this path only led to ruin, that Limbo was a hunger that would never be sated. But Illyana had made her choice two years ago, and no warning, no love, would change it now.
And hell, what did Storm know? Ororo didn't know Limbo like she did.
It was her fault, she was the one that had led her on this path. So who was she to tell her what she should or shouldn't do?
"Magic is alive." Ororo had taught her. "It can feel, hear, and even understand if you know how to speak to it. Little Snowflake, I know you want to grow stronger, but you cannot force power. The more you struggle, the less you will be able to wield."
Illyana wasn't dumb, she knew that Ororo had told her that because she couldn't "master her emotions." Because she couldn't master Ororo's magic, because she was trapped, because she couldn't make progress. Because she was starting to….
Well, it didn't matter anymore.
Because, even if Ororo had saved her from him, how was she any different from Belasco? It was Ororo who had kept her trapped in the garden. She wanted to stop her from saving Alexander. She wanted to stop her from becoming whole.
Pausing, Illyana took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing preparing the magic circle.
Her biggest enemy, her biggest fear, the thing she had hated the most had been Limbo. Because it had taken everything from her. Because to call upon Limbo was to taint your soul, your very existence. Not only that, but to cast through Limbo was to chain herself again, to build her strength upon the very foundation Belasco had once forced beneath her feet.
And yet… all roads had led her to Limbo.
Because she had no choice. Because she was bound to it as much as it was bound to her. Because if she walked the path Ororo wanted for her, she would never grow strong enough to defeat Belasco, to escape. After all, Ororo had been trapped here after all these years.
What? Did she expect her to carry on her legacy? To live the rest of her life scared and in hiding? To just sit and wait and hope for the best next time Belasco summoned another person?
No.
She would walk her own path. She would kill Belasco and get out of here.
"Sanguis Limbo, audi lamentum meum, senti caecitatem meam."
(Blood of Limbo, hear my lament, feel my blindness.)
Magic was alive, and what was Limbo if not a source of magic?
Belasco had taught her how to connect to Limbo, how to force it to do her will, how to channel the natural energy of Limbo into pure magic. But what if it didn't have to be that way? What if, like Ororo had taught her, she could communicate with Limbo. To ask for the help of the dimension, and to be guided in return.
The magic circle around her began to glow, letting off a dim crimson light, as Illyana reached for her necklace and pulled it out, revealing the two bloodstones.
"Aperi oculos meos, revela mihi veritatem occultam."
(Open my eyes, reveal to me the hidden truth.)
As her words left her mouth, the two bloodstones gently lifted off from the necklace, floating in the air around her, almost as if orbiting her.
Taking in one final deep breath, Illyana relaxed her body and felt the magic around her. She could feel her soul, her magic, Limbo, and Alex's soul fragment.
To be completely honest, she never had a strong connection with Limbo. No, Illyana was Limbo's prisoner. A simple girl, someone who would never be able to speak to something as powerful and abstract as the realm around her.
No, Illyana had no such benefits.
Opening her eyes, the pure blue was replaced by a rich golden hue. Her blonde hair drained of color, turning a pale, spectral white. Horns curled from her forehead with a faint crack of bone, and her nails and teeth sharpened into elegant points meant for tearing and survival.
And so, the voice that left her mouth the next moment wasn't hers. Not entirely.
"Doce me secreta quae quaero."
(Teach me the secrets that I seek.)
Darkchylde finished the spell for her, finally causing the dim light of the magic circle around her to brighten, glowing so brightly that the entire room became bathed in the crimson light. And, a moment later, Darkchylde's surroundings changed.
Beneath her feet stretched a surface that wasn't ground so much as liquid shadow, shifting with each thought, each heartbeat. Above her, a sky of molten clouds churned endlessly, pierced by cracks of red lightning that never struck, only pulsed in rhythm with her soul.
In truth, her body still sat in her bedroom in Ororo's garden, silent, cross-legged, breathing evenly. But her soul was here, in the heart of Limbo.
In the very heart of the realm that had made her.
"Duc me, filiam tuam. Et protege me, mater. Averte oculos regis, eius qui te alligat."
(Lead me, your daughter. And protect me, mother. Turn away the eyes of the king, of him who binds you.)
"Show me the way." Darkchylde begged softly into the air. "Guide my hand."
At her request, she felt the world around her embrace her. A warmth flooded her body, a warmth so loving that it would have made her tear up were it not for the fact that she had experienced it enough times by now to be able to resist it.
Magic was alive, it could be reasoned with, it could be spoken with. And just like any living thing, Limbo cared for her creations, for the beings born out of her magic. Like a mother, Limbo embraced Darkchylde.
And like a mother, it had taught her, guided her hand, and allowed her to become stronger.
For Illyana, the corruption that Limbo brought was a curse. But for Darkchylde, it was a blessing.
When they had first met, Darkchylde had been a simple reflection of herself. A distorted reflection, yet a reflection nonetheless. They had shared the same face, the same voice, but now, after accepting Limbo, after allowing the realm to twist her, to strengthen her, Darkchylde had changed.
She'd become a true daughter of Limbo.
Pale, bluish skin shimmered faintly under unseen light. Her legs were no longer human but bent and sinewed, goatlike and strong. A long tail arched behind her, segmented and tipped with a stinger that pulsed with faint, red light, a scorpion's weapon.
She could feel Limbo watching her, and, after a few moments, she felt Limbo guiding her hands, her voice, and her magic.
"Animae fractae, divisae et solitariae. Ardite in igne Limbi et una mecum fite."
(Souls broken, separated, and isolated. Burn in the fire of Limbo and become one with me.)
The words came to her, even if she didn't know them, and as the spell began to take form, she could feel the bloodstones around her stir. After a moment, the bloodstones began to give off a faint crimson glow, followed by a golden shine.
They pulsed like a heartbeat. And for a moment, Darkchylde hesitated.
This wasn't the first time they had attempted this, and now, she could feel that familiar ache in her chest. She could feel Alex's soul interacting with hers. Cold, unnatural, and yet… alive.
Reaching out, the stones began to hum, resonating with her very being.
"I'm here." Darkchylde whispered. "I never forgot you."
With Limbo's help, the light from the stones began to flow into her, sharp and liquid, spilling across her fingers and crawling up her arm. The glow reached her chest, threading through her veins until she could feel her pulse syncing with theirs.
Her breath caught as the warmth spread deeper, curling behind her ribs and into her soul. She could feel him, his confusion, his pain, his exhaustion. For two years, she had chased this moment, believing that if she could just find him again, she could make everything whole. But as their souls brushed, she realized how fragile he'd become.
"He's breaking." Illyana warned her. "Just like last time. Maybe we should stop… it's not too late… maybe if we try—"
"No." Darkchylde answered. "He is glass, Illyana, he will shatter if we fail again." Then, Darkchydle tightened her grip. "I'm not letting go."
Illyana hesitated for only a breath. Then she nodded.
"You're right."
With Illyana's guidance, the Bloodstones flared once more, their light pulsing with life before sinking into her skin. The power wasn't gentle, it didn't merge, it invaded. To bind one's soul to another was never meant to be natural. It was like forcing a blood transfusion between two different blood types. No matter how much will she poured into it, her very essence fought back. After all, no two souls were ever meant to share the same shape.
The light inside her twisted violently before collapsing inward, imploding into darkness. A surge of power ripped through her, wild and unrestrained, a living storm that brought her to her knees.
Her soul burned. Every fiber of her being rejected the intrusion, rejected Alexander. It was pain unlike anything she'd ever felt. Her body trembled, but Darkchylde grit her teeth and refused to scream. She forced herself to listen, to the heartbeat of Limbo, to the ancient hum that echoed beneath its molten skies.
Listen.
Following that instinct, she let go. She stopped resisting the pain, stopped fighting the current tearing her apart. Her body shuddered as she surrendered, focusing on one thing, protecting Alex's soul.
But it was so faint. So fragile.
Even as she shielded him, even as she let Limbo's fire consume her, the connection wavered. His soul felt like glass slipping through her fingers, and no matter how tightly she held on, he was fading.
"No!" The cry came from both voices at once, Illyana and Darkchylde, merging into one desperate plea.
"Limbe, protege animam eius. Coniungamur, fiamus unum." They begged in unison.
(Limbo, protect his soul. Let us be joined, let us become one)
"Alliga nos, alliga animas et vitas nostras. Fac ut flamma vitae eius numquam exstinguatur."
(Bind us, bind our souls and our lives. Let the flame of his life never be extinguished.)
The flames around her raged higher, searing her essence, but she didn't stop. The magic circle beneath her pulsed like a dying heartbeat, the lines flickering in and out of existence. She could feel Alex slipping, his presence dimming, as if the void itself was swallowing him whole.
"Causa nos unum fieri quamdiu vivemus."
(Cause us to become one for as long as we shall live.)
The final word left her lips, and then everything stopped.
The air around her froze. Her connection to Limbo snapped like a severed chain. Cold swept through her, the kind that didn't touch the body but crawled straight into the soul. For a heartbeat, she felt the corruption of the world closing in, hungry, patient, waiting to devour her.
And then, it halted.
Something changed.
She could feel him, Alex, faint, but alive. The echo of his heartbeat thrummed within her chest, weak yet persistent. Her body shook as she raised her head, and that's when she saw them.
Those eyes. She would never forget them. The same eyes that had haunted her nightmares. The eyes of the one who had taken everything from her.
He smiled. Calm, almost amused, as if he were savoring the moment. His lips moved, forming words she couldn't hear, and for an instant, she thought he laughed.
Then, he was gone.
The light collapsed inward, and she was back, in her room, in Ororo's garden. The magic circle around her burned itself out. Darkchylde went quiet, and Illyana could feel as her body returned to her regular form.
It wasn't until she collapsed to the ground that she realized that she couldn't breathe.
No, not only couldn't she breathe, she also couldn't hear. The world around her was too quiet.
She saw the bloodstones in front of her fall to the ground and crumble to dust.
Illyana felt as if her entire world were collapsing.
The door to her room was forcibly opened by Ororo, who appeared to be in a panic as she ran to her and began to cast some spell. But at that point, Illyana's vision had gone dark.
And in that darkness she felt it. Her soul. It was whole again. No, more than whole. Something new pulsed within it. A second rhythm. A second life. She could feel Alex's heartbeat beneath her own.
And somewhere, a single grain of sand fell within a golden hourglass.
— –Alexander Montclair– —
There was something to O'Dimm's words.
He didn't have enough time to learn to defeat Belasco. He didn't have the magic, nor the technology to be able to defeat and kill the king of Limbo in his own realm. And perhaps, he never would.
But that wasn't the challenge, was it?
No, even if he wanted to kill Belasco to get revenge, who said that Belasco was his problem? Alexander was literally just some guy. A guy who happened to be able to travel between worlds, but in the end, he was just a regular guy.
One bullet in the head, and he'd be dead. If he was hit by a stray spell, he would die. Belasco was out of his league, and he could acknowledge that much.
But who said it was HIM who had to dethrone the king?
He was smart, but he could get lost in the problem. Trying his best to find solutions inside of the box he was presented with. But O'Dimm had slapped him in the face with reality.
He was in the Marvel world. A world full of heroes and overpowered people more than willing to take some world conquering bad guy down. People strong enough for someone like Gaunter to hesitate to follow him back to the Marvel world without his help. All he had to do was catch the attention of any of them, and leave them to deal with the problem.
There was a sanctum in New York, right?
Well, who cares if he didn't know where the hell it was. All he had to do was get to Tony and convince him to buy every single ad in Times Square.
"All sorcerers, please report to Stark Tower. Belasco the King of Limbo is very close to opening a portal to Earth and destroying the city. If you want the world to NOT be consumed by demons from Limbo, your assistance would be appreciated."
Who cares if regular people freaked out, the alternative was the end of the world. With something like that, Alex was sure that every single magic user in the area would gather around. And, if someone like the Ancient One or Dr. Strange showed up, they would probably be enough to stop him.
Or at the very least, trap him in a time loop or something.
Hell, he could even stop by Xavier's mansion and gather every single mutant around. With Illyana next to him, or hell, even Xavier being able to read his mind for proof, that would be more than enough to set them on a parth to defeating Belasco.'
He didn't need to checkmate the king himself. All he had to do was set every other piece in motion to do it.
So in the end, his conversation with O'Dimm had moved his goalpost.
He didn't need to kill the king, he just had to slip through his fingers one more time. He had to master his ability to travel between worlds well enough to be able to move from Limbo and his world. Enough that if he were to be captured, he would be able to flee once more for just long enough to get help.
Still, that left him with another problem.
He couldn't master his ability with the Wild Hunt around. Or at least, he couldn't… "in theory." With O'Dimm forcibly causing him to use his power back in the bar, that should have been enough for the Wild Hunt to track them down and appear in Novigrad. And yet, they hadn't.
There were also times before it, where he had gotten the headaches and heard the glass break. Probably manifestations of his power. But still no Wild Hunt.
There was a chance that the Wild Hunt could only track Ciri's "Spatial Signature." But neither him or Ciri were willing to risk summoning the Wild Hunt while unprepared, and there was little Ciri could do to teach him while unable to use her own power.
So the only answer was to eliminate the Wild Hunt. Only once they were no longer on the run would they stand a chance to defeat Belasco and save Illyana.
In theory, defeating the Wild Hunt appeared impossible for them as they were now. Ciri had warned him just how strong they really were, and just how unstoppable they could be. The only option appeared to be to run and find someone like Yennefer or Geralt and ask for their help.
Or at least, it should have been.
Because there were things Alexander did not want to risk bringing into the world. He didn't want to risk his inventions leaving his hand and spreading for another kingdom to use. He didn't want to change the course of war, and he didn't want to taint his hands with the blood of others.
But once again, O'Dimm had made him realize how stupid he was. How his idealism might not only cost him his freedom, but Illyana's life. No, the lives of everyone in "his" world.
In the end, the best he could do is try not to let his creations spread.
Because, as powerful as the Wild Hunt might be, they were still mortals. Behind the impenetrable armor, was flesh, bone, and organs.
"Alex, I'm ready!" Dudu said, excitement in his voice as he walked in carrying a box and dropped it beside another pile of ingredients. "Now, you owe me a big one, because getting this much sulfur was an absolute nightmare."
Glancing at the other boxes, he picked up a few jars full of tree resin.
"Hell, combine this with the Dimeritium, and you owe me another printing-press-sized idea to make up for it," Dudu added with a chuckle, humming as he looked over the soaps and oils Alex had ordered.
"Jesus… how the hell did you manage to get this much sulfur?" Alex muttered, crouching beside the box. "You really are too good at this…"
"What can I say? I'm a professional." Dudu replied with a grin, setting down a pair of gloves for both of them. "I can already picture it. Alexander Cyrus Montclair, Dudu the Great, and Princess Cirilla of Cintra. The legends who defeated the Wild Hunt!"
"You should know better than to jinx us." Alex said, shaking his head as he pulled on the gloves. "And for the record, it's Sterling, not Cyrus."
"Really? Huh." Dudu tilted his head, pretending to think. "Well, Sterling does sound more heroic."
"Come on." Alex muttered, glancing toward the window where the sun was setting. "I've never actually made this before, so let's hope it doesn't blow up in our faces. Plus, we can't keep Ciri waiting."
Shoutout to @Basilisk, @Harman, and @Tertius711 for helping me brainstorm and keep on coming up with ideas for this story and for Beta Reading.
https://discord.gg/WTgN9J3YgK
~A/N~
You can't break the Geneva Convention if Geneva doesn't exist in that world, right?
I believe next chapter we will finally get to catch a glimpse of the wild hunt.
As always, I am always dropping little hints and small stuff here and there in each chapter, so if you find anything interesting do drop a comment with it.
And also, can anyone give me a guess as to what Alex is creating?
Also I'm curious what everyone thinks is going to happen on Illyana's side of the story.