Prologue

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He could feel it.

Blood, pain, darkness threatening to drown him, to swallow him and luring him into its embrace.

He couldn't succumb.

He wouldn't fall now after running this far, he had a line, a goal, a boundary he had to cross and if he hasn't he couldn't guarantee his own survival, which was unacceptable because he has to come back here, there has to be a return for him, to give the people of Punditesos redemption, damnation and peace.

But if he couldn't live past this day then how would he come back to destroy Punditesos. How was he to show them that he wasn't a magic practitioner but magic itself, he was a witcher and they were nothing but monsters that deserve the most hellish peace he would generously present, but he was seeing it, the end. 

The road mother talked about so much yet so little, it wasn't bright and it was a darkness he didn't appreciate today unlike all his life because this one marked a start he didn't want to be a part of yet, a past he wasn't ready to let go of yet.

So he looked to the looming, taunting sky and he prayed, for any power, for any witchery that was left in him to help him, give him strength to leave this kingdom alive but nothing came, no surge of force from his overwhelmed body, his heart threatened to go cold and his skin glistened with sweat, its silent tears from the excess torment it had gone through.

Maybe he could give up, maybe if he survived he would still be incapable of the revenge he seek, maybe losing it all and dying was a blessing and he should let this feeling carry him away to the unknown and he sighed.

His lungs and arms taking a break as he stopped crawling and fell onto his back. His eyes started to flutter close, the chaos of the world drawing to a cease when his eyes caught a movement.

A red or pink dress came into view, he was losing everything even his brain.

"Blood" a voice squealed, fresh and innocent, breathing new air into his lungs.

With struggle he oppened his eyes and there, looking down at him were eyes that mirrored his, green as the loneliest and healthiest of forest, a colour of hope and growth and he never wanted to let go.

Said eyes widen. "You are… oh my God" she gasped and rushed to cover his gashing wound but she paused, perhaps she realised using her hand wasn't a good choice. 

There was a slash from the left side of his hairline passing his forehead to his right eyebrow, she looked around options and when she spotted his dagger askew, she quickly picked it bloody handle up and tore her pink dress with it, without thinking she lifted his head and wrapped the clothe around it, she didn't know what she was doing but she knew leaving it open was worse, there was so much blood her breathing shallowed.

"Tell me…" he tried, his voice breaking as he reached his bloody palm to her delicate and dancing face. "What do you wish to hear?" her voice asked softly, cradling his head like he'd never been cared for before, he drew in a breath and was pleasntly blessed with her scent, peace and his.

"Your name" he breathed out.

She met his eyes, her shaking fingers cold as his face and offering no warmth, she wondered how she could get help for him.

"Cesita" she whispered, her whole being shivering when he smiled.

She smelled like something that was solely his and even if he couldn't survive for &%$^£$%$ he would come back for her.

For Cesita and revenge.