Chapter 25: THE RITE BEGINS — PART 1
Dawn crept through the high windows of the great hall, painting ancient stone in shades of gold and shadow.
We'd transformed the space overnight. The long table had been pushed against the far wall. Ritual circles covered the floor in silver paint and chalk—concentric rings of Elder symbols that Yennefer had spent hours inscribing while the rest of us maintained the perimeter. Candles burned at cardinal points, their flames unnaturally steady despite the morning chill.
And in the center of it all, bound by chains and magic and desperation, Eskel waited.
His eyes were black when we entered. Voleth Meir had stopped pretending hours ago—the mask of humanity discarded in favor of naked hunger. She watched us through Eskel's stolen face with the patient malice of something that had outlasted empires.
"How touching." The voice layered over itself, echoes of something vast speaking through a throat too small to contain it. "You've brought the whole family. A last meal before I consume you all?"
"Positions," Yennefer said, ignoring the taunt. "Cole—north point. Ciri—south. Geralt, Vesemir, Lambert—perimeter. If the binding breaks, you contain him physically. Try not to kill him."
"Try," Lambert muttered, but he moved to his assigned spot without argument.
I took my position at the edge of the outer circle. The ritual geometry hummed against my awareness—Yennefer's work interacting with the Elder runes in ways I could feel but not quite understand. Power waiting to be directed. A cage waiting to close.
Ciri caught my eye across the room. Fear lived in her expression, but determination lived there too. She nodded once.
Together. Whatever happens, together.
[RITUAL ENVIRONMENT: ACTIVE]
[NULLIFICATION: STANDBY]
Yennefer began to speak.
The words weren't any language I recognized—older than Elder Speech, older than anything that had existed on this Continent since the Conjunction. They rolled through the air like thunder, resonating in frequencies that made my teeth ache and my vision blur at the edges.
The candle flames stretched toward the ceiling. The ritual circles began to glow.
"Now, Cole."
I activated the Nullification.
[ABILITY: NULLIFICATION — MAXIMUM SUSTAINED FIELD]
[SP: 200/215... 185/215... 170/215...]
The field expanded from my position, washing across the ritual space in a wave of anti-magic that made reality itself feel thinner. I pushed it toward the center, toward Eskel, toward the ancient thing wearing his face.
Voleth Meir screamed.
The sound was nothing human—wasn't even entirely sound. It existed in multiple registers at once, tearing through hearing and thought and soul simultaneously. I felt it in my bones, in the space between heartbeats, in the fragments of memory that hadn't fully unlocked.
Eskel's body convulsed against the chains. His back arched impossibly, muscles straining against restraints that should have snapped but held through Yennefer's enchantments. Black ichor leaked from his nose, his ears, the corners of his eyes.
"STOP." The layered voice had lost its composure. "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING."
"Actually," Yennefer said without breaking her incantation's rhythm, "I know exactly what I'm doing."
The banishment words intensified. The ritual circles blazed brighter. I felt the Nullification field pressing against something vast and ancient and wrong—Voleth Meir's presence, woven through Eskel's consciousness like parasitic roots through healthy soil.
Push harder. Don't stop.
[SP: 155/215... 140/215...]
Something shifted in the center of the circle. Eskel's body went rigid, then began to separate—not physically, but spiritually. A shadow peeled away from him, rising like smoke from a fire, taking form above his convulsing frame.
Voleth Meir.
The Deathless Mother.
She was beautiful and terrible in equal measure. Ancient features that might have been elven once, twisted by millennia of hunger into something no longer quite real. Eyes like dead stars. A smile that promised every horror ever imagined.
"You think this will stop me?" She laughed, and the sound cracked stone. "I've been banished before. I've been imprisoned, sealed, bound by magics your ancestors couldn't comprehend. I always return."
"Not this time," Yennefer said through gritted teeth.
The shadow form solidified, fighting the banishment's pull. Voleth Meir poured power into Eskel, and I saw what she intended—if she couldn't stay, she'd destroy the host. Burn him out rather than let us have him back.
"No."
I pushed the Nullification harder than I'd ever pushed anything.
[SP: 110/215... 95/215... 80/215...]
[WARNING: SP APPROACHING CRITICAL]
The field intensified, creating a zone around Eskel where magic had difficulty existing. Voleth Meir's shadow form flickered, her grip on Eskel weakening as my Nullification disrupted the connection between possessor and possessed.
"FIRST BLADE." Her attention fixed on me with terrifying focus. "I see what you are now. Interesting. They built you well, those ancient architects." The smile widened. "But you're incomplete. Unfinished. I could help you become what you were meant to be—if you help me."
"Not interested."
"Everyone is interested. Eventually." Her form twisted, becoming something darker, more concentrated. "If not you, then the girl. Her power calls to me across every barrier you construct. She'll be mine—today, tomorrow, a century from now. I can wait."
"Then wait somewhere else."
I pushed again. Everything I had. The Nullification field blazed, and for a moment—just a moment—Voleth Meir's form began to dissolve.
Then Eskel screamed in his own voice.
"DON'T STOP."
The words cut through everything else. Real. Human. Desperate.
"WHATEVER HAPPENS, DON'T STOP. FINISH IT."
Lambert's face crumbled. Vesemir's grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles went white. Geralt took a step forward before catching himself, every line of his body radiating the need to help a brother he couldn't reach.
"Eskel—" Lambert started.
"FINISH IT."
Yennefer's incantation reached a crescendo. The ritual circles blazed with light so bright it burned. Voleth Meir's shadow form writhed, screaming promises and threats in equal measure.
And the banishment began to take hold.
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