The Witcher The Swallow and The Monster

Season of Storms

"The world is a bloody mess. Everyone wishes to make of it what they will. I'm exhausted of that reality. Only the best deserve to make the world what they want." - Aleric, The Fang

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Storm clouds slowly blocked out the sun and darkened the rest of Toussaint. Geralt slowly led Roach up the trail of Corvo Bianco. He hadn't said a word. Roach's muzzle was to the ground, she knew the cargo she was carrying. Geralt couldn't think of a better way to carry his son, and he didn't have the heart to take him to Beauclair. Regis had went off to tell the Duchess that the Beast had been slain. They hadn't even begun to speak about what had happened.

The witcher sighed as he saw Nosfer, waiting in the stables. As soon as he saw the figure that had been wrapped up into a blanket and tied to the female mare he let out a sad bray. It wasn't long before his majordomo, Barnabas Basil, approached, "Master witcher! Some unknown indivi...."

Geralt silenced him with a look, "I'm not in the mood." The majordomo's gaze drifted to the body on his horse, "By the gods. I apologize. But someone barged into your residence. I felt it would be appropriate to let you know."

Geralt felt a tug on his heart strings, the sky slowly started sprinkling, he knew who was waiting in the house, he didn't know if he would be able to face them, "I'll handle it. Can you..."

The majordomo nodded, "Of course, I shall take his body to the cellar and unwrap him should you wish to view him. Will that be all?"

The witcher nodded, as he slowly walked towards his vineyards home. He had imagined him and Yen staying here together. Growing old. He would take an occasional contract here or there. Maybe (F/N) and Ciri would drop by once in awhile. That fantasy felt so hollow now. Geralt saw that grapevines were already starting to grow.

The help was slowly working to make sure the vines grew as best they could. The witcher sighed, the vineyard was slowly coming back to life. The witcher slowly pushed open the door just as a clap of thunder echoed, he took a big whiff of the air, it smelled like a garkain. Geralt slowly followed it, he felt himself freeze when he saw her back turned.

Her ashen hair was in a tight bun, the silver sword he had given her was in its sheath. She was carrying a garkain's severed head in her hands. The witcher stared at Ciri as she examined a piece of artwork, it was nice to see his daughter, he let out a sigh. The witcheress jumped slightly and turned, she smiled widely when she saw Geralt, "You look good."

The witcher went to speak, but Ciri smiled, "I should smack you clear across the face. A contract in Toussaint and you didn't invite me! If I hadn't found the garkain along the way and made quite a bit of coin, I'd run you through."

Geralt shook his head, "Ciri..."

The ashen haired woman laughed as she threw her arms around Geralt, "But let's not fight. I'd rather take it out on (F/N)." She broke away, still smiling as if nothing was wrong, "Is he in Beauclair?"

The witcher slowly placed his hands on Ciri's shoulders. The witcheress slowly realized something was wrong, very wrong, she laughed slightly, as if this was a joke, "Geralt what's wrong?"

The witcher's yellow eyes looked into his daughter's green ones, "I'm so sorry."

"Where's (F/N)?"

"He...saved my life and..."

Ciri started shaking, unable to process what she was hearing, "No!" She snapped, "Don't! Where is he?!"

The witcher slowly wrapped his arms around Ciri, as she repeatedly punched him asking the same question over and over again, "Where is he?! Where?"