Dear Waxwing.

I can't believe you're dead. I can't come to terms with the fact that you'll never hug me again, stroke my hair, or say a kind, comforting word. I don't know if I can live with the knowledge that you're gone.

When we said goodbye, I caught up with Hotsborn. I decided to ride with him for a while; I hoped to reach the first Nilfgaardian fort I found and tell them that I was the real Cirilla, Princess of Cintra. Unfortunately, I didn't succeed, because Hotsborn was killed. He gave me a beautiful horse – a black mare. I named her Kelpie. There's a custom on the Skellige islands that for a night spent together, a girl receives a gift from her lover – so what if Hotsborn didn't get to be one?

During my conversations with Hotsborn, I learned about the town of Jealousy and Bonhart, who was temporarily residing there. I already knew Bonhart was tracking us. I also knew you would go there to kill him. Thanks to Hotsborn, I knew that the Rats, though good at swordplay, would be no match for a man like Bonhart. Besides, I learned this firsthand. You died then, on the ground, surrounded by your own blood. I felt such intense hatred that instead of fleeing from Bonhart, I fought him. He didn't kill me then, though I desperately wanted to; I just wanted to be with you as quickly as possible, dear Mistle.

Later, Bonhart humiliated me—both physically and mentally. He treated me like an object. Actually, I don't regret not running away—otherwise, I wouldn't have had my Swallow. Swallow is a magnificent sword. I don't know if you knew this, but in the elven language, my name means Swallow.

Fortunately, I managed to escape Bonhart. I won't bore you with the details of that escape, as they are unimportant. What's more important is that I was wounded on the cheek and how I escaped my pursuers. It wasn't until a long time later that Vysogota and I realized it – my blood, the Elder Blood, helped me escape. I hope that when you were alive, you knew what Elder Blood was.

I spent nearly four months in the Pereplut swamps, with Vysogota, mostly telling stories and tanning the skins of muskrats and other animals. I also nursed my cheek with him. Every day, Vysogota brought increasingly worse news to the cottage from the villagers – my pursuers were looking for me and asking about me in the nearby village. And I kept having these dreams. Dreams I had when you were all still alive: you, Jemiołuszko and Reef, Asse, Iskra, Kayleigh, and the others. I dreamed of Geralt and Yennefer with mangled hands, chained to the wall of a dirty, cold and wet dungeon...

When the first snow fell, I set out to save my loved ones. I learned from Vysogota that I was to find the Tower of the Swallow. At the end of my journey, Bonhart began chasing me. I thought, "Just find the Tower quickly." Where the Tower was supposed to be, there was only a pile of stones. Bonhart saw this too and shouted that I would never escape him again. And suddenly, in place of the stones, a majestic, black tower appeared. The Tower of the Swallow. I entered the Tower, constantly checking to see if Bonhart was following me.

When I left the Tower, a completely different world surrounded me. I deeply regret that you weren't with me. It was so beautiful, fabulous, colorful, and the scent of bird cherry everywhere, more intense than in the normal world. Unfortunately, this enchanted world turned out to be a prison. And besides, the elves living there wanted to use me for their own cruel purposes. I escaped with the help of my little horse, a unicorn whose life I had saved earlier in the Korath desert. The horse taught me how to wander the worlds, how to use my abilities.

After many trials, I finally found myself in the right place: Castle Stygga, the castle of Vilgefortz, a sorcerer who also wanted to use me for his purposes. And yet, I knew this was my destiny. There, in the sorcerer's castle, I encountered Bonhart and Stefan Skellen, the Owl—it ​​was he who had struck me on the cheek with the orion. I also knew Yennefer was imprisoned here.

Vilgefortz's henchmen dragged me to his laboratory. Only then did I realize what I had gotten myself into. I screamed once. Then twice. And then the entire castle shook in response to my scream. Five riders burst into the courtyard: Geralt, the archer Milva, Angouleme, the vampire Regis, and Cahir. We met: me, Geralt, and Yennefer. Geralt's friends died: Milva died from an arrow thinking about her father; the vampire first wounded Vilgefortz, who killed him; Cahir died for me... He died during the fight with Bonhart. Besides, I killed Bonhart myself. I felt nothing then, only great sadness that I had to kill someone again. Vilgefortz was killed by Geralt. He wouldn't tell me, and I didn't press him. But that wasn't important; what mattered was that we were together.

The courtyard was suddenly swarming with the Nilfgaardian army. Their leader was somehow... close and familiar. He evoked such warm feelings. But he was a complete stranger to me. Then... Then it all went wrong. Geralt and Yennefer were supposed to commit suicide together on the orders of the army leader, who was the Emperor of Nilfgaard. Like some villains who had done something to Nilfgaard. Then I stood up to this close, yet distant man, but it was to no avail. Geralt and Yennefer were locked in a chamber, and I was supposed to be taken by the Emperor to the Nilfgaardian capital. As I walked, surrounded by soldiers, I looked back for the first time. Then a second time, tears already welling up in my eyes. By the third time, I was crying. I began to cry more and more desperately. It seemed grotesque – a moment ago I was standing up to the Emperor himself, and the next moment I was crying like a little child. At one point, I sat on the ground and cried. Then the emperor approached me, hugged me, and said, "Fate is a strange thing. Farewell, daughter." Then he gave his orders, and everyone left the courtyard, paying me no attention.

I regained Yennefer and Geralt, only to lose them again. But this time forever. In Ryvia, during the riots, Geralt was wounded in the stomach with a three-pronged pitchfork. Yennefer tried to help him with magic, but only weakened and fainted. Magic was of no use, and the medic took a long time to come. Then I summoned Konik. Then, together with Dandelion and Triss, we placed Yennefer and Geralt on the raft. We sailed away. I don't know how long we sailed; I know there was fog, and in that fog we wandered through worlds and times. I left them in one of the most beautiful places we had ever visited—an orchard. I continued my wandering alone.

Now I'm sitting by the fire, next to me sits Galahad, my friend. I'm finishing my letter and in a moment I'll throw it into the fire that's roaring nearby. I hope this letter reaches you this way, my Waxwing. I also hope you'll read it. And learn my story. Remember how I once told you I'd tell you everything about myself? I've told you now. Not everything, but I promise that in my next letter I'll describe the beginning of my life. And I'll describe Geralt. And Yennefer. And Galahad; for he can't be omitted. He's too important.