I disagreed with almost every single word.:rebel:
Such is life.
- Status
I disagreed with almost every single word.:rebel:
Such is life.
Aye, each to their own.
Though I do hope you don't intend to argue in here. Otherwise, welcome
Though I do hope you don't intend to argue in here. Otherwise, welcome
Nah, I don't intend to argue, Keira Metzism is a peaceful religion that doesn't plan on purgingAye, each to their own.
Though I do hope you don't intend to argue in here. Otherwise, welcome
My take on Geralt and Yen's relationship is based on two book quotes that have shown up several times in the forums here. The first is the "Yearning, Regret, Hope, and Fear" that Yen describes to Ciri, and the other is "Destiny is not enough- something more is needed." The first quote is how they feel when they are separated- they carry around an overwhelming need for one another that affects every other relationship they may try to have. "Destiny is not enough" describes what happens when they come together- there is a missing element that prevents a lasting happiness. Each time they come together they live for a time in dream-like bliss, but eventually the dream melts like the proverbial shard of ice. This is why I like the "Last Wish" story in the game- they have to finally see if they have that "something more" once destiny is factored out.
Personally I never made the leap to seeing that "something more" between them. I thought perhaps that Ciri would fill that void, but she seems more like a force of Destiny passing in and out of their lives. I still agree with Villentretenmerth that they are destined for each other, but nothing will come of it. Their relationship is like Priscilla's ballad- a beautiful dream, but in the end still only a dream. However, there are obviously many people here who have seen "something more" that I did not.
Thank you Trireme for your opinion - our take on Geralt and Yen's relationship is based on eight books mostly...
Yeah in The Last Wish and The Sword of Destiny books their relationship is a little like you are describing - in the rest five books it is something else (more)
I really recommend to read the saga...you will have the answer there.
Villentretenmerth quote is regarding Yen and that she won't have any biological children with Geralt...
Hmm I don't agree with that statement but even though their love would be a dream it is still better than a "love" in an amnesia state.
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Ah .... If only more dh'oines see the light, instead of just bickering over sorceress sluts .... But most of them are fools ...
"Fantasy world where things are like you wanted" is Kovir I guess?
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@Gilthoniel yeah that pretty much sums it up and then 6-7 more fucking books about them trying to accept their feelings towards one another and love each other. Damaged love is the best one to read about as you never know what is going to happen next. Kinda makes it very easy to reread the books too, the way their love flows is just amazing, are they both too damaged to be together or not? At some points it seems very likely but then terrible things happen. Just wow Sapkowski.
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I found someone's idea of Ciri playing in the 3rd act is so great.
For me the best moment for that - when Geralt is travelling with Avallac'h and seacrhing for Ge'els.
Ciri can talk and act with mother, "sister", Jaskier, Zoltan. Enough variants.
She can help Dandelion to finish with Sigi Reuven problem.
She can help Zoltan and Dudu to avoid the zealots of Eternal Fire.
She can help her "sista" to search if any sorcerers left in Novigrad.
She can visit Priscilla!!
She can bring Korinna.
And the most important. She can take her mother away and just talk. Don't even need a quest.
Talk about them. And about Him.
For me, the best idea of the month. If not overall.
For me the best moment for that - when Geralt is travelling with Avallac'h and seacrhing for Ge'els.
Ciri can talk and act with mother, "sister", Jaskier, Zoltan. Enough variants.
She can help Dandelion to finish with Sigi Reuven problem.
She can help Zoltan and Dudu to avoid the zealots of Eternal Fire.
She can help her "sista" to search if any sorcerers left in Novigrad.
She can visit Priscilla!!
She can bring Korinna.
And the most important. She can take her mother away and just talk. Don't even need a quest.
Talk about them. And about Him.
For me, the best idea of the month. If not overall.
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For me it's best love story (realistic?) in a fantasy...
Games are other story - anyway I'm really glad that we finally are able to see Yen in TW3...when I was playing the game for the first time I was so excited and...happy like this fan from Reddit:
Yeah, Kear Morhen dream, Priscilla's song, Geralt's talking to Yen during Bran's funeral, The Wake quest (the lovey dovey looks), Unicorn, Last Wish, Wolfing dialog, Potestaquisitor dialog , Kear Morhen love making, Ciriiiiiii, Avalach's artwork, wish for the future, the ending slide with Yen...so many great scenes we got...even though it isn't perfect I f*cking love TW3 game.
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@Wasaabii28 do you have updated Imgur links with 0nakita's screenshots and gifs?
Can you please post them here I cannot find your post where you mentioned them. Thank you
Can you please post them here I cannot find your post where you mentioned them. Thank you
@Gilthoniel oh yeah I'll update it today and post the links.
Until then...
Until then...
Lady Yennefer? How does it work with this drawing of the force? If I gather force into myself then there might not be enough left down below. Is it right to do that? Mother Nenneke taught us that we mustn’t take anything just like that,
for the fun of it. Even the cherry has to be left on its tree for the birds, so that it can simply fall.” Yennefer put her arm around Ciri, kissed her gently on the hair at her temple. “I wish,” she muttered, “others could hear what you said. Vilgefortz, Francesca, Terranova…
Those who believe they have exclusive right to the force and can use it unreservedly. I wish they could listen to the little wise ugly one from Melitele’s Temple. Don’t worry, Ciri. It’s a good thing you’re thinking about it but believe me, there is enough force. It won’t run out. It’s as if you picked one single little cherry from a huge orchard.”
“Can I draw on it now?”
“Wait. Oh, it’s a devilishly strong pocket. It’s pulsating violently. Be careful, ugly one. Draw on it carefully and very, very slowly.”
“I’m not frightened! Pah-pah! I’m a witcher. Ha! I feel it! I feel… Ooouuuch! Lady… Ye… nnnne… feeeeer…”
“Damn it! I warned you! I told you! Head up! Up, I say! Take this and put it to your nose or you’ll be covered in blood!
Calmly, calmly, little one, just don’t faint. I’m beside you. I’m beside you… daughter. Hold the handkerchief. I’ll just conjure up some ice…”
There was a great fuss about that small amount of blood. Yennefer and Nenneke did not talk to each other for a week.
For a week, Ciri lazed around, read books and got bored because the magician had put her studies on hold. The girl did not see her for entire days, Yennefer disappeared somewhere at dawn, returned in the evening, looked at her strangely and was oddly taciturn.
After a week, Ciri had had enough. In the evening, when the enchantress returned, she went up to her without a word and hugged her hard. Yennefer was silent. For a very long time. She did not have to speak. Her fingers, clasping the girl’s shoulders tightly, spoke for her.
The following day, the high priestess and the lady magician made up, having talked for several hours.
And then, to Ciri’s great joy, everything returned to normal.
“Look into my eyes, Ciri. A tiny light. The formula, please!”
“Aine verseos!”
“Good. Look at my hand. The same move and disperse the light in the air.”
“Aine aen aenye!”
“Excellent. And what gesture comes next? Yes, that’s the one. Very good. Strengthen the gesture and draw.
More, more, don’t stop!”
“Oooouuuch…”
“Keep your back straight! Arms by your side! Hands loose, no unnecessary moves with your fingers. Every move can multiply the effect.
Do you want a fire to burst out here? Strengthen it, what are you waiting for?”
“Oouuch, no… I can’t…”
“Relax and stop shaking! Draw! What are you doing? There, that’s better… Don’t weaken your will! That’s too fast, you’re hyperventilating!
Unnecessarily getting hot! Slower, ugly one, calmer. I know it’s unpleasant. You’ll get used to it.”
“It hurts… My belly… Down here…”
“You’re a woman, it’s a typical reaction. Over time you’ll harden yourself against it. But in order to harden yourself you have to practise without any painkillers blocking you. It really is necessary, Ciri. Don’t be afraid of anything, I’m alert and screening you. Nothing can happen to you.
But you have to endure the pain. Breathe calmly. Concentrate. The gesture, please. Perfect. And take the force,
draw it, pull it in… Good, good… Just a bit more…”
“O… O… Oooouuuch!”
“There, you see? You can do it, if you want to. Now watch my hand. Carefully. Perform the same movement.
Fingers! Fingers, Ciri! Look at my hand, not the ceiling! Now, that’s good, yes, very good. Tie it up.
And now turn it around, reverse the move and now issue the force in the form of a stronger light.”
“Eeeee… Eeeeek… Aiiiieee…”
“Stop moaning! Control yourself! It’s just cramp! It’ll stop in a moment! Fingers wider, extinguish it, give it back,
give it back from yourself!
Slower, damn it, or your blood vessels will burst again!”
“Eeeeeek!”
“Too abrupt, ugly one, still too abrupt. I know the force is bursting out but you have to learn to control it. You mustn’t allow outbursts like the one a moment ago. If I hadn’t insulated you, you would have caused havoc here.
Now, once more. We’re starting right from the beginning. Move and formula.”
“No! Not again! I can’t!”
“Breathe slowly and stop shaking. It’s plain hysteria this time, you don’t fool me.
Control yourself, concentrate and begin.”
“No, please, Lady Yennefer… It hurts… I feel sick…”
“Just no tears, Ciri. There’s no sight more nauseating than a magician crying. Nothing arouses greater pity.
Remember that.
Never forget that. One more time, from the beginning. Spell and gesture. No, no, this time without copying me.
You’re going to do it by yourself.
So, use your memory!”
“Aine verseos… Aine aen aenye… Oooouuuuch!”
“No! Too fast!”
Magic, like a spiked iron arrow, lodged in her. Wounded her deeply. Hurt. Hurt with the strange sort of pain oddly associated with bliss.
To relax, they once again ran around the park. Yennefer persuaded Nenneke to take Ciri’s sword out of storage and so enabled the girl to practise her steps, dodges and attacks – in secret, of course, to prevent the other priestesses and novices seeing her. But magic was omnipresent.
Ciri learned how – using simple spells and focusing her will – to relax her muscles, combat cramps, control adrenalin, how to master her aural labyrinth and its nerve, how to slow or speed her pulse and how to cope without oxygen for short periods. The lady magician knew a surprising amount about a witcher’s sword and “dance.” She knew a great deal about the secrets of Kaer Morhen; there was no doubt she had visited the Keep. She knew Vesemir and Eskel. Although not Lambert and Coën. Yennefer used to visit Kaer Morhen. Ciri guessed why when they spoke of the Keep, the eyes of the enchantress grew warm, lost their angry gleam and their cold, indifferent, wise depth. If the words had befitted Yennefer’s person, Ciri would have called her dreamy, lost in memories. Ciri could guess the reason.
There was a subject which the girl instinctively and carefully avoided.
But one day, she got carried away and spoke out. About Triss Merigold. Yennefer, as if casually, as if indifferently, asking as if banal, sparing questions, dragged the rest from her. Her eyes were hard and impenetrable. Ciri could guess the reason. And, amazingly, she no longer felt annoyed. Magic was calming. “The so-called Sign of Aard, Ciri, is a very simple spell belonging to the family of psychokinetic magic which is based on thrusting energy in the required direction. The force of the thrust depends on how the will of the person throwing it is focused and on the expelled force. It can be considerable. The witchers adapted the spell, making use of the fact that it does not require knowledge of a magical formula – concentration and the gesture are enough. That’s why they called it a Sign. Where they got the name from, I don’t know, maybe from the Elder Speech – the word ‘ard’, as you know, means ‘mountain’, ‘upper’ or ‘the highest’. If that is truly the case then the name is very misleading because it’s hard to find an easier psychokinetic spell. We, obviously, aren’t going to waste time and energy on something as primitive as the witchers’ Sign. We are going to practise real psychokinesis. We’ll practise on… Ah, on that basket lying under the apple tree. Concentrate.”
“Ready.”
“You focus yourself quickly. Let me remind you: control the flow of the force. You can only emit as much as you draw. If you release even a tiny bit more, you do so at the cost of your constitution. An effort like that could render you unconscious and, in extreme circumstances, could even kill you.
If, on the other hand, you release everything you draw, you forfeit all possibility of repeating it, and you will have to draw it again and, as you know, it’s not easy to do and it is painful.”
“Ooooh, I know!”
“You mustn’t slacken your concentration and allow the energy to tear itself away from you of its own accord.
My Mistress used to say that emitting the force must be like blowing a raspberry in a ballroom; do it gently, sparingly, and with control. And in such a way that you don’t let those around you to know it was you. Understood?”
“Understood!”
“Straighten yourself up. Stop giggling. Let me remind you that spells are a serious matter. They are cast with grace and pride. The motions are executed fluently but with restraint. With dignity. You do not pull faces, grimace or stick your tongue out. You are handling a force of nature, show Nature some respect.”
“All right, Lady Yennefer.”
“Careful, this time I’m not screening you. You are an independent spell-caster. This is your debut, ugly one. You saw that demi-john of wine in the chest of drawers? If your debut is successful, your mistress will drink it tonight.”
“By herself?”
“Novices are only allowed to drink wine once they are qualified apprentices. You have to wait. You’re smart, so that just means another ten years or so, not more. Right, let’s start. Arrange your fingers. And the left hand? Don’t wave it around! Let it hang loose or rest it on your hip. Fingers! Good. Right, release.”
“Aaaah…”
“I didn’t ask you to make funny noises. Emit the energy. In silence.”
“Haa, ha! It jumped! The basket jumped! Did you see?”
“It barely twitched. Ciri, sparingly does not mean weakly. Psychokinesis is used with a specific goal in mind.
Even witchers use the Sign of Aard to throw their opponent off his feet. The energy you emitted would not knock their hat off their head! Once more, a little stronger. Go for it!” “Ha! It certainly flew!
It was all right that time, wasn’t it, Lady Yennefer?”
“Hmmm… You’ll run to the kitchen afterwards and pinch a bit of cheese to go with our wine… That was almost right. Almost. Stronger still, ugly one, don’t be frightened. Lift the basket from the ground and throw it hard against the wall of that shack, make feathers fly. Don’t slouch!
Head up! Gracefully, but with pride! Be bold, be bold! Oh, bloody hell!”
“Oh, dear… I’m sorry, Lady Yennefer… I probably… probably used a bit too much…”
“A little bit. Don’t worry. Come here. Come on, little one.”
“And… and the shack?”
“These things happen. There’s no need to take it to heart. Your debut, on the whole, should be viewed as a success. And the shack? It wasn’t too pretty.
I don’t think anyone will miss its presence in the landscape. Hold on, ladies! Calm down, calm down, why this uproar and commotion, nothing has happened! Easy, Nenneke!
Really, nothing has happened. The planks just need to be cleared away. They’ll make good firewood!”
During the warm, still afternoons the air grew thick with the scent of flowers and grass; pulsating with peace and silence, broken by the buzz of bees and enormous beetles. On afternoons like this Yennefer carried Nenneke’s wicker chair out into the garden and sat in it, stretching her legs out in front of her. Sometimes she studied books, sometimes read letters which she received by means of strange couriers, usually birds.
At times she simply sat gazing into the distance. With one hand, and lost in thought, she ruffled her black, shiny locks, with the other she stroked Ciri’s head as she sat on the grass, snuggled up to the magician’s warm, firm thigh.
“Lady Yennefer?”
“I’m here, ugly one.”
“Tell me, can one do anything with magic?”
“No.”
“But you can do a great deal, am I right?”
“You are.” The enchantress closed her eyes for a moment and touched her eyelids with her fingers. “A great deal.”
“Something really great… Something terrible! Very terrible?”
“Sometimes even more so than one would have liked.”
“Hmm… And could I… When will I be able to do something like that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe never. Would that you don’t have to.”
Silence. No words. Heat. The scent of flowers and herbs.
“Lady Yennefer?”
“What now, ugly one?”
“How old were you when you became a wizard?”
“When I passed the preliminary exams? Thirteen.”
“Ha! Just like I am now! And how… How old were you when… No, I won’t ask about that…”
“Sixteen.”
“Aha…” Ciri blushed faintly and pretended to be suddenly interested in a strangely formed cloud hovering over the temple towers. “And how old were you… when you met Geralt?”
“Older, ugly one. A bit older.”
“You still keep on calling me ugly one! You know how I don’t like it. Why do you do it?”
“Because I’m malicious. Wizards are always malicious.”
“But I don’t want to… don’t want to be ugly. I want to be pretty. Really pretty, like you, Lady Yennefer.
Can I, through magic, be as pretty as you one day?”
“You… Fortunately you don’t have to… You don’t need magic for it. You don’t know how lucky you are.”
“But I want to be really pretty!”
“You are really pretty. A really pretty ugly one. My pretty little ugly one…”
“Oh, Lady Yennefer!”
“Ciri, you’re going to bruise my thigh.”
“Lady Yennefer?”
“Yes.”
“What are you looking at like that?”
“At that tree. That linden tree.”
“And what’s so interesting about it?”
“Nothing. I’m simply feasting my eyes on it. I’m happy that… I can see it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Good.”
Silence. No words. Humid.
“Lady Yennefer!”
“What now?”
“There’s a spider crawling towards your leg! Look how hide-ous it is!”
“A spider’s a spider.”
“Kill it!”
“I can’t be bothered to bend over.”
“Then kill it with magic!”
“On the grounds of Melitele’s Temple? So that Nenneke can throw us out head first? No, thank you. And now be quiet. I want to think.”
“And what are you thinking about so seriously? Hmm. All right, I’m not going to say anything now.”
“I’m beside myself with joy. I was worried you were going to ask me another one of your unequal grand questions.”
“Why not? I like your unequal grand answers!”
“You’re getting impudent, ugly one.”
“I’m a wizard. Wizards are malicious and impudent.”
No words. Silence. Stillness in the air. Close humidity as if before a storm.
And silence, this time broken by the distant croaking of ravens and crows.
“There are more and more of them.” Ciri looked upwards. “They’re flying and flying… Like in autumn… hide-ous birds… The priestesses say that it’s a bad sign… An omen, or something. What is an omen, Lady Yennefer?”
“Look it up in Dhu Dwimmermorc. There’s a whole chapter on the subject.”
Silence.
“Lady Yennefer…”
“Oh, hell. What is it now?”
“It’s been so long, why isn’t Geralt… Why isn’t he coming?”
“He’s forgotten about you, no doubt, ugly one. He’s found himself a prettier girl.”
“Oh, no! I know he hasn’t forgotten! He couldn’t have! I know that, I know that for certain, Lady Yennefer!”
“It’s good you know. You’re a lucky ugly one.”
for the fun of it. Even the cherry has to be left on its tree for the birds, so that it can simply fall.” Yennefer put her arm around Ciri, kissed her gently on the hair at her temple. “I wish,” she muttered, “others could hear what you said. Vilgefortz, Francesca, Terranova…
Those who believe they have exclusive right to the force and can use it unreservedly. I wish they could listen to the little wise ugly one from Melitele’s Temple. Don’t worry, Ciri. It’s a good thing you’re thinking about it but believe me, there is enough force. It won’t run out. It’s as if you picked one single little cherry from a huge orchard.”
“Can I draw on it now?”
“Wait. Oh, it’s a devilishly strong pocket. It’s pulsating violently. Be careful, ugly one. Draw on it carefully and very, very slowly.”
“I’m not frightened! Pah-pah! I’m a witcher. Ha! I feel it! I feel… Ooouuuch! Lady… Ye… nnnne… feeeeer…”
“Damn it! I warned you! I told you! Head up! Up, I say! Take this and put it to your nose or you’ll be covered in blood!
Calmly, calmly, little one, just don’t faint. I’m beside you. I’m beside you… daughter. Hold the handkerchief. I’ll just conjure up some ice…”
There was a great fuss about that small amount of blood. Yennefer and Nenneke did not talk to each other for a week.
For a week, Ciri lazed around, read books and got bored because the magician had put her studies on hold. The girl did not see her for entire days, Yennefer disappeared somewhere at dawn, returned in the evening, looked at her strangely and was oddly taciturn.
After a week, Ciri had had enough. In the evening, when the enchantress returned, she went up to her without a word and hugged her hard. Yennefer was silent. For a very long time. She did not have to speak. Her fingers, clasping the girl’s shoulders tightly, spoke for her.
The following day, the high priestess and the lady magician made up, having talked for several hours.
And then, to Ciri’s great joy, everything returned to normal.
“Look into my eyes, Ciri. A tiny light. The formula, please!”
“Aine verseos!”
“Good. Look at my hand. The same move and disperse the light in the air.”
“Aine aen aenye!”
“Excellent. And what gesture comes next? Yes, that’s the one. Very good. Strengthen the gesture and draw.
More, more, don’t stop!”
“Oooouuuch…”
“Keep your back straight! Arms by your side! Hands loose, no unnecessary moves with your fingers. Every move can multiply the effect.
Do you want a fire to burst out here? Strengthen it, what are you waiting for?”
“Oouuch, no… I can’t…”
“Relax and stop shaking! Draw! What are you doing? There, that’s better… Don’t weaken your will! That’s too fast, you’re hyperventilating!
Unnecessarily getting hot! Slower, ugly one, calmer. I know it’s unpleasant. You’ll get used to it.”
“It hurts… My belly… Down here…”
“You’re a woman, it’s a typical reaction. Over time you’ll harden yourself against it. But in order to harden yourself you have to practise without any painkillers blocking you. It really is necessary, Ciri. Don’t be afraid of anything, I’m alert and screening you. Nothing can happen to you.
But you have to endure the pain. Breathe calmly. Concentrate. The gesture, please. Perfect. And take the force,
draw it, pull it in… Good, good… Just a bit more…”
“O… O… Oooouuuch!”
“There, you see? You can do it, if you want to. Now watch my hand. Carefully. Perform the same movement.
Fingers! Fingers, Ciri! Look at my hand, not the ceiling! Now, that’s good, yes, very good. Tie it up.
And now turn it around, reverse the move and now issue the force in the form of a stronger light.”
“Eeeee… Eeeeek… Aiiiieee…”
“Stop moaning! Control yourself! It’s just cramp! It’ll stop in a moment! Fingers wider, extinguish it, give it back,
give it back from yourself!
Slower, damn it, or your blood vessels will burst again!”
“Eeeeeek!”
“Too abrupt, ugly one, still too abrupt. I know the force is bursting out but you have to learn to control it. You mustn’t allow outbursts like the one a moment ago. If I hadn’t insulated you, you would have caused havoc here.
Now, once more. We’re starting right from the beginning. Move and formula.”
“No! Not again! I can’t!”
“Breathe slowly and stop shaking. It’s plain hysteria this time, you don’t fool me.
Control yourself, concentrate and begin.”
“No, please, Lady Yennefer… It hurts… I feel sick…”
“Just no tears, Ciri. There’s no sight more nauseating than a magician crying. Nothing arouses greater pity.
Remember that.
Never forget that. One more time, from the beginning. Spell and gesture. No, no, this time without copying me.
You’re going to do it by yourself.
So, use your memory!”
“Aine verseos… Aine aen aenye… Oooouuuuch!”
“No! Too fast!”
Magic, like a spiked iron arrow, lodged in her. Wounded her deeply. Hurt. Hurt with the strange sort of pain oddly associated with bliss.
To relax, they once again ran around the park. Yennefer persuaded Nenneke to take Ciri’s sword out of storage and so enabled the girl to practise her steps, dodges and attacks – in secret, of course, to prevent the other priestesses and novices seeing her. But magic was omnipresent.
Ciri learned how – using simple spells and focusing her will – to relax her muscles, combat cramps, control adrenalin, how to master her aural labyrinth and its nerve, how to slow or speed her pulse and how to cope without oxygen for short periods. The lady magician knew a surprising amount about a witcher’s sword and “dance.” She knew a great deal about the secrets of Kaer Morhen; there was no doubt she had visited the Keep. She knew Vesemir and Eskel. Although not Lambert and Coën. Yennefer used to visit Kaer Morhen. Ciri guessed why when they spoke of the Keep, the eyes of the enchantress grew warm, lost their angry gleam and their cold, indifferent, wise depth. If the words had befitted Yennefer’s person, Ciri would have called her dreamy, lost in memories. Ciri could guess the reason.
There was a subject which the girl instinctively and carefully avoided.
But one day, she got carried away and spoke out. About Triss Merigold. Yennefer, as if casually, as if indifferently, asking as if banal, sparing questions, dragged the rest from her. Her eyes were hard and impenetrable. Ciri could guess the reason. And, amazingly, she no longer felt annoyed. Magic was calming. “The so-called Sign of Aard, Ciri, is a very simple spell belonging to the family of psychokinetic magic which is based on thrusting energy in the required direction. The force of the thrust depends on how the will of the person throwing it is focused and on the expelled force. It can be considerable. The witchers adapted the spell, making use of the fact that it does not require knowledge of a magical formula – concentration and the gesture are enough. That’s why they called it a Sign. Where they got the name from, I don’t know, maybe from the Elder Speech – the word ‘ard’, as you know, means ‘mountain’, ‘upper’ or ‘the highest’. If that is truly the case then the name is very misleading because it’s hard to find an easier psychokinetic spell. We, obviously, aren’t going to waste time and energy on something as primitive as the witchers’ Sign. We are going to practise real psychokinesis. We’ll practise on… Ah, on that basket lying under the apple tree. Concentrate.”
“Ready.”
“You focus yourself quickly. Let me remind you: control the flow of the force. You can only emit as much as you draw. If you release even a tiny bit more, you do so at the cost of your constitution. An effort like that could render you unconscious and, in extreme circumstances, could even kill you.
If, on the other hand, you release everything you draw, you forfeit all possibility of repeating it, and you will have to draw it again and, as you know, it’s not easy to do and it is painful.”
“Ooooh, I know!”
“You mustn’t slacken your concentration and allow the energy to tear itself away from you of its own accord.
My Mistress used to say that emitting the force must be like blowing a raspberry in a ballroom; do it gently, sparingly, and with control. And in such a way that you don’t let those around you to know it was you. Understood?”
“Understood!”
“Straighten yourself up. Stop giggling. Let me remind you that spells are a serious matter. They are cast with grace and pride. The motions are executed fluently but with restraint. With dignity. You do not pull faces, grimace or stick your tongue out. You are handling a force of nature, show Nature some respect.”
“All right, Lady Yennefer.”
“Careful, this time I’m not screening you. You are an independent spell-caster. This is your debut, ugly one. You saw that demi-john of wine in the chest of drawers? If your debut is successful, your mistress will drink it tonight.”
“By herself?”
“Novices are only allowed to drink wine once they are qualified apprentices. You have to wait. You’re smart, so that just means another ten years or so, not more. Right, let’s start. Arrange your fingers. And the left hand? Don’t wave it around! Let it hang loose or rest it on your hip. Fingers! Good. Right, release.”
“Aaaah…”
“I didn’t ask you to make funny noises. Emit the energy. In silence.”
“Haa, ha! It jumped! The basket jumped! Did you see?”
“It barely twitched. Ciri, sparingly does not mean weakly. Psychokinesis is used with a specific goal in mind.
Even witchers use the Sign of Aard to throw their opponent off his feet. The energy you emitted would not knock their hat off their head! Once more, a little stronger. Go for it!” “Ha! It certainly flew!
It was all right that time, wasn’t it, Lady Yennefer?”
“Hmmm… You’ll run to the kitchen afterwards and pinch a bit of cheese to go with our wine… That was almost right. Almost. Stronger still, ugly one, don’t be frightened. Lift the basket from the ground and throw it hard against the wall of that shack, make feathers fly. Don’t slouch!
Head up! Gracefully, but with pride! Be bold, be bold! Oh, bloody hell!”
“Oh, dear… I’m sorry, Lady Yennefer… I probably… probably used a bit too much…”
“A little bit. Don’t worry. Come here. Come on, little one.”
“And… and the shack?”
“These things happen. There’s no need to take it to heart. Your debut, on the whole, should be viewed as a success. And the shack? It wasn’t too pretty.
I don’t think anyone will miss its presence in the landscape. Hold on, ladies! Calm down, calm down, why this uproar and commotion, nothing has happened! Easy, Nenneke!
Really, nothing has happened. The planks just need to be cleared away. They’ll make good firewood!”
During the warm, still afternoons the air grew thick with the scent of flowers and grass; pulsating with peace and silence, broken by the buzz of bees and enormous beetles. On afternoons like this Yennefer carried Nenneke’s wicker chair out into the garden and sat in it, stretching her legs out in front of her. Sometimes she studied books, sometimes read letters which she received by means of strange couriers, usually birds.
At times she simply sat gazing into the distance. With one hand, and lost in thought, she ruffled her black, shiny locks, with the other she stroked Ciri’s head as she sat on the grass, snuggled up to the magician’s warm, firm thigh.
“Lady Yennefer?”
“I’m here, ugly one.”
“Tell me, can one do anything with magic?”
“No.”
“But you can do a great deal, am I right?”
“You are.” The enchantress closed her eyes for a moment and touched her eyelids with her fingers. “A great deal.”
“Something really great… Something terrible! Very terrible?”
“Sometimes even more so than one would have liked.”
“Hmm… And could I… When will I be able to do something like that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe never. Would that you don’t have to.”
Silence. No words. Heat. The scent of flowers and herbs.
“Lady Yennefer?”
“What now, ugly one?”
“How old were you when you became a wizard?”
“When I passed the preliminary exams? Thirteen.”
“Ha! Just like I am now! And how… How old were you when… No, I won’t ask about that…”
“Sixteen.”
“Aha…” Ciri blushed faintly and pretended to be suddenly interested in a strangely formed cloud hovering over the temple towers. “And how old were you… when you met Geralt?”
“Older, ugly one. A bit older.”
“You still keep on calling me ugly one! You know how I don’t like it. Why do you do it?”
“Because I’m malicious. Wizards are always malicious.”
“But I don’t want to… don’t want to be ugly. I want to be pretty. Really pretty, like you, Lady Yennefer.
Can I, through magic, be as pretty as you one day?”
“You… Fortunately you don’t have to… You don’t need magic for it. You don’t know how lucky you are.”
“But I want to be really pretty!”
“You are really pretty. A really pretty ugly one. My pretty little ugly one…”
“Oh, Lady Yennefer!”
“Ciri, you’re going to bruise my thigh.”
“Lady Yennefer?”
“Yes.”
“What are you looking at like that?”
“At that tree. That linden tree.”
“And what’s so interesting about it?”
“Nothing. I’m simply feasting my eyes on it. I’m happy that… I can see it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Good.”
Silence. No words. Humid.
“Lady Yennefer!”
“What now?”
“There’s a spider crawling towards your leg! Look how hide-ous it is!”
“A spider’s a spider.”
“Kill it!”
“I can’t be bothered to bend over.”
“Then kill it with magic!”
“On the grounds of Melitele’s Temple? So that Nenneke can throw us out head first? No, thank you. And now be quiet. I want to think.”
“And what are you thinking about so seriously? Hmm. All right, I’m not going to say anything now.”
“I’m beside myself with joy. I was worried you were going to ask me another one of your unequal grand questions.”
“Why not? I like your unequal grand answers!”
“You’re getting impudent, ugly one.”
“I’m a wizard. Wizards are malicious and impudent.”
No words. Silence. Stillness in the air. Close humidity as if before a storm.
And silence, this time broken by the distant croaking of ravens and crows.
“There are more and more of them.” Ciri looked upwards. “They’re flying and flying… Like in autumn… hide-ous birds… The priestesses say that it’s a bad sign… An omen, or something. What is an omen, Lady Yennefer?”
“Look it up in Dhu Dwimmermorc. There’s a whole chapter on the subject.”
Silence.
“Lady Yennefer…”
“Oh, hell. What is it now?”
“It’s been so long, why isn’t Geralt… Why isn’t he coming?”
“He’s forgotten about you, no doubt, ugly one. He’s found himself a prettier girl.”
“Oh, no! I know he hasn’t forgotten! He couldn’t have! I know that, I know that for certain, Lady Yennefer!”
“It’s good you know. You’re a lucky ugly one.”
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Blimey, that gif seems so out of character for Yen after reading first 2 books, it's a bit, bewildering.
In a good way though.
In a good way though.
Where is Emhyr on the list, we hear more times he is Ciri father than Yennefer is her mother
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In fact in the game sometimes Ciri is even more rude and sarcastic than Yennefer.
I found that many of #TT followers started to like Ciri only because TW3 showed how she's important for Geralt.
So problem temper is not a reason to hate as we can see.
Just enough to show a real importance for someone
I found that many of #TT followers started to like Ciri only because TW3 showed how she's important for Geralt.
So problem temper is not a reason to hate as we can see.
Just enough to show a real importance for someone
Well yeah, she's just like her mother after all and she also learns very fast so I have to give her credit for that.
Ciri: “You still keep on calling me ugly one! You know how I don’t like it. Why do you do it?”
Yen: “Because I’m malicious. Wizards are always malicious.”
A few questions later...
Yen: “I’m beside myself with joy. I was worried you were going to ask me another one of your unequal grand questions.”
Ciri: “Why not? I like your unequal grand answers!”
Yen: “You’re getting impudent, ugly one.”
Ciri: “I’m a wizard. Wizards are malicious and impudent.”
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This Emhyr i would like to see with Ciri, but real one no thank you
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