Finn pulled a fresh photo from the little printer and set it beside the open notebook on the table. The machine gave a soft whirr, then fed out another square sheet a few seconds later. He had spent most of the morning moving pictures from his optics into the printer, one batch at a time.
He had remembered his optics could do half the things a camera could do and more. And seeing that he used to take a picture of everything with the camera that is long gone by now, the hard part now had not been taking the pictures. The hard part had been to select the pictures he wanted to put into his notebook.
So he sat in the penthouse living room with a cheap portable printer on one side, his notebook on the other, and a growing pile of photos between them. Photos of streets full of neon. Photos of the megabuilding from below. One shot of Chip with his snout buried in a takeout bag. Another of Kelpie in the garden with the city lights behind her. One blurry picture of Ciri glaring at a vending machine because the item refused to get out. Meanwhile, out in the garden, Ciri and Avallach were training again.
Finn looked up through the glass and watched Ciri slash her hand through the air. A portal snapped open for less than a second, no larger than a shield, then folded in on itself before she could step through. She swore, paced three steps, and tried again. This time nothing happened at all.
"I cannot do it!" she shouted. "How many times must I prove it?!"
Avallach stood a few paces from her with his hands behind his back. He did not react.
"Again, Zireael," he said.
"I said I cannot. Not like this!" She threw an arm toward the garden wall. "Short jumps? I can do those. Through space, yes. Across time? I fail every damned try!"
Avallach answered her, though Finn could not make out every word through the glass. Ciri stamped her feet into the dirt and turned away with both fists tight at her sides.
Avallach watched her for another moment. Then, he stepped off the grass and came inside.
Finn slid another photo into the notebook and looked up as the elf entered the living room. Avallach did not ask if he could sit. He lowered himself into the chair near the glass wall and looked back out at Ciri, who was now kicking at the dirt hard enough to leave dark marks through the trimmed grass.
Finn glanced between them. "...Should I...?"
Avallach raised one hand without looking at him. "No. She needs time to let out her frustration."
"Fair." Finn leaned back a little in his chair. "What are you teaching her anyway? She's teleporting fine."
"Over short distance," Avallach said. "And only in the crude manner most suited for combat. That was never the true purpose of her gift. Zireael must learn true control. She needs to master long distance travel, larger portals, and precise landing. Or, at the very least, how to refrain from becoming a danger to everyone around her."
"She hasn't been a danger to me so far."
"Not yet." Avallach's eyes stayed on the garden. "But if she loses control at the wrong moment, you could be torn apart in an instant."
Finn looked out there too. Ciri had stopped kicking dirt. She stood still now, staring past the hedge and into the city.
"She is distracted," Avallach said.
"By what?"
The elf let out a slow breath through his nose. "I asked her to leap across time. She failed many times in succession. I sensed her fear soon enough. She is afraid that if she succeeds, she may not return. I have told her more than once that if she cannot come back by her own skill, I will retrieve her myself. Still she refuses to let go of that fear." His gaze shifted, barely, toward Finn. "I suspect it is because of you that she is so stubborn in this matter."
Finn gave a short scoff. "Me? Why?"
"Because you are someone dear to her.." Avallach folded one hand over the other in his lap. "She is unwilling to risk parting from you."
Finn reached for the next picture and took a second to answer. "So is Geralt of Rivia." He slid the photo into its sleeve and shrugged. "Still, I'm flattered if she thinks of me that way."
Avallach did not comment on that. He kept watching Ciri instead.
Finn closed the notebook. "Do you think she's ready? To go back to her world?"
"As matters stand, we were never going to be fully ready," Avallach said. "But we must go all the same. Zireael will grow impatient with idleness, even if she does not admit it. The longer we remain here, the longer we give Eredin time to find us. In the end the struggle must be taken to her world. She must gather allies there. She alone cannot defeat The Wild Hunt."
Finn rested one hand on the notebook cover. "We don't need an army. We just need a carefully laid plan."
That got a brief look from Avallach. His eyes moved over Finn's chrome arms. "...On that," the elf said, "we agree."
The glass door slid open a minute later. Ciri came in with dirt on her boots and irritation still written all over her face. She stopped when she saw the two of them sitting there together.
Her arms crossed. "Since when are the two of you talking partners?"
Finn raised a brow. "A while ago?"
Ciri scoffed, looked away, and headed for the hall. "I am going to take a shower."
She disappeared around the corner before either of them answered. A few seconds later Finn heard the bathroom door shut.
Avallach's gaze stayed on the empty hall. "The blood of Lara Dorren," he muttered. "As fiery as I remembered it."
—
A few weeks later, Finn sat in Wakako's office again with Ciri at his side while the old smith laid three finished katanas across a dark cloth on the desk. Even Wakako had gone quiet for the moment.
"As requested," the smith said in Japanese. "Three pieces. One for the white-haired wolf. Two for his pack."
Finn reached first for the pair that matched.
The scabbards were black with deep red running along the lacquer. There was a wolf symbol that sat on both the scabbard and the hilt, plain enough to be seen clearly. When Finn unsheathed one, he could see a wave pattern run down the steel. The blade itself was of a dark color, black at a glance. Apparently it was made out of some sort of polymer that Finn didn't quite understand. It was sharp, too. Very sharp. Finn was no sword expert, but even he could tell these were not wall pieces for some rich guys to brag over. The balance felt right. The whole thing felt built to be used.
"Preem work," Finn said before he could stop himself. He glanced at Ciri. "Sorry. City's getting to me."
Ciri had already taken up the third katana.
This one stood apart. The scabbard carried the same wolf mark, but the colors were red and white instead of red and black. Fine golden thread was woven through the hilt too. The blade was a little longer than the other two, and when she drew it, the same dark metal-polymer base showed beneath the folded wave of the steel. The finish was cleaner. The whole weapon had more care worked into it without turning ornamental.
Ciri ran one finger very lightly along the flat near the edge. Then she looked to the smith. "It's very good," she said. "Thank you."
The old man bowed his head slightly. He was smiling now.
Finn sheathed the two matching swords and set them down together. "The payment's been done," he said after making the transfer through his optics. "It's a pleasure doing business."
—
Finn and Ciri are now driving through the streets of Night City again. Finn kept one hand on the wheel. Beside him, Ciri sat with all three katanas hugged against her chest, one arm around the scabbards to keep them steady whenever the car took a turn. She had been quiet since they left.
Usually that did not mean much. Ciri could sit in silence for half an hour and call it a perfectly good situation. This time her eyes stayed on the window, but not on any one thing outside it. Neon signs passed over the glass, then the crowds, headlights, food stalls, patched concrete. Her gaze did not stay on any of it for long.
At last Ciri let out a breath and turned toward him. "I think it's time we leave."
Finn looked at her before the next light turned green.
"Already?"
"We've been here five months," she said. "And I am not improving anymore. It seems better to move on. I am tired of hiding, Finn. I shall run no more."
"...To your world, then?"
"...It's time to end this farce," she said. "We need to end Eredin, so that I can be free and he shall be no threat to me and my loved ones anymore."
Finn hummed once. "All right then," he said. "Let's tell Avallach."