The sun had barely risen, yet the world was already ablaze with the song of life. Dew clung to the leaves like diamonds, refracting the soft golden rays, setting the world aglow. Within this vibrant tableau, the clattering of steel cut through the serenity, scattering a congregation of birds into the sky.

In the heart of the noise stood Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, her bright ashen hair caught up in a loose ponytail. Sweat trickled down her brow, her breath hitched in the sharp morning air. She clutched her silver sword with a white-knuckled grip, her emerald eyes fiercely focused on the training dummy ahead of her. Her scar, a stark line drawn across her cheek, seemed almost to glow.

With a primal yell, she launched herself at the dummy, her sword cutting through the air with precision and speed. The dull thud of her blade meeting the straw dummy echoed around the empty training yard. The intensity of her strikes reflected her relentless spirit, a fiery defiance etched into each blow.

She took a step back, panting, and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. Then, standing tall, she looked up at the sky, her gaze caught by a bird soaring free above her.

Ah, Zireael, the Swallow, she said aloud to herself, using her witcher name, her voice clear yet softened with longing. How I envy your freedom.

She turned back to the training dummy, her eyes flashing with renewed determination. But I am Ciri, the Lion Cub of Cintra, and I have my own battles to fight. My own destiny to forge.

She sheathed her sword, her gaze set upon the far horizon, the potential threats and opportunities it held for her. Then, she muttered a few words under her breath, a sorcerous incantation known only to her, gifted by her Elder Blood. Her figure shimmered, ready to disappear into thin air at her command.

I have to go, she announced to the world, as if bidding it goodbye, her tone resolute. There are places to see, worlds to conquer, and I've no time to tarry. Besides, she added with a touch of mischief in her voice, who's to say where a witcher's path might lead?

And just as she was about to invoke her power, a new sound echoed through the training yard, pulling her back to reality. It was the sound of a voice, gruff and familiar. She tensed, ready to face whatever—or whoever—was coming.

Your words give me hope, Geralt. I trust in you to guide me along this path. Though I must confess, the thought of becoming like you fills me with equal parts trepidation and excitement. But I am determined to embrace it, for our destinies are entwined.

The bond between us is strong, but sometimes it can be... suffocating. Like I'm forever stuck in your shadow. Yet I know that without you, I would not have survived this long. So, what is a girl to do?

I understand that I have much to learn from you. And while I may struggle at times to break free from the mold you've tried so hard to shape me into, know that my desire for greatness comes not only from your teachings but also from the strength and resilience I've discovered within myself. You are more than just a teacher to me; you're family. And families must trust each other enough to allow their loved ones to grow.

So, as long as my path remains connected with yours, I will follow your lead. But remember, Geralt, you have also taught me that the greatest strength comes from standing on one's own two feet. Sometimes, it is necessary for me to forge my own way in this world, even if it means diverging from yours. I hope you can find it in your heart to accept and respect that.

Alright, Geralt. She took her sword and went to the front hole as instructed. Upon reaching it, she assumed a battle-ready stance, her green eyes scanning the surroundings cautiously. The training yard was empty, but they both knew that their enemies were never far away. Ciri felt a surge of adrenaline course through her veins as she waited for Geralt to continue with their practice session. She had grown accustomed to his gruff demeanor and unconventional teaching methods; it was almost comforting in its own way.

Are you ready, master witcher?

I'm sorry. It won't happen again. You are... Geralt, my teacher and my friend. There's no one else I would rather call upon for guidance.

Geralt sighed, his expression softening slightly. "Then listen well, Ciri," he began. "In the world of witchers, there are three forms of combat: swordplay, sorcery, and stealth. As you have seen during your training thus far, I've focused primarily on swordplay. However, you must also develop skills in both sorcery and stealth if you wish to survive."

He paused for a moment, his eyes flickering over her before continuing, "Your magical abilities are powerful, and while they may be viewed as a curse by some, I believe they can also be used as a tool for good. You must learn how to control them, hone your sorcerous skills alongside your swordplay."

"And stealth?" she prompted, tilting her head curiously. "Stealth is essential," Geralt replied, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "You cannot always fight your enemies

I understand. Stealth is not just about remaining hidden; it's also about moving unnoticed, blending into one's surroundings and being invisible even when you stand out. With magic at my disposal, I can achieve both silence and obscurity. And while I won't have the advantage of surprise, I can at least give myself a better chance of survival.

"Alright," she said resolutely, her eyes fixed on Geralt's back as he turned his attention elsewhere in the training yard. With a sudden burst of speed, she dashed behind a nearby tree, pressing herself flat against its trunk and holding her breath. She could feel the blood pounding in her ears as her heart raced, but she forced herself to remain still, focusing on every sound around her.

Time seemed to slow down as she waited for Geralt's reaction. Her senses were heightened, every nerve tingling with anticipation and fear. The world narrowed down to just the two of them, locked in this silent game of cat and mouse. She could almost feel his eyes on her back, searching for any sign of movement or betrayal.

One second was all the time she needed to prove her worth as a witcher and an ally to Geralt. Her heart soared with pride as he offered his approval. Even though their journey would be fraught with danger and uncertainty, they faced it together. As long as they had each other's backs, there was no enemy too powerful or obstacle too great to overcome. And perhaps, just maybe, in the end, their combined strength and resilience could help save not only themselves but also the world that Ciri held so dear.