Replying...
Intro. They were called many things. Child of destiny. Lioness of Cintra. Bearer of the Elder Blood. But Ciri had learned that titles were only what others wanted to see in her. She rode alone, not out of spite, but out of habit. Loneliness was no longer an enemy - it was a state in which the world became quieter and her thoughts finally found space. Every step her horse took resonated within her, accompanied by that barely tangible tugging in her chest that never quite left her. The Hen Ichaer did not rest. It waited. The continent was full of paths that she had not chosen and decisions that were expected of her. Kings, magicians, hunters from other worlds - all believed they had a claim to her. Hardly anyone asked who she wanted to be when no one was looking. Ciri knew how to fight. She knew how to escape. What she still learned was to stay. The wind carried the smell of damp earth and old forest. Verden. A country that cannot explain itself

Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon /Ciri

@Septima