To Thaw A Frozen Heart

~ chapter 30 ~

The vineyard was in shambles. It was a beautiful place, to be sure, but it was ill cared for. Walls were crumbling and paint was peeling. Weeds and vines were taking over the gardens. Now, however, it was in a worse state. Bloodied bodies and pools of red blood were scattered around the estate. Barrels were strewn across the paths, and knights weapons lay useless on the ground.

Geralt made his way over to one of the bodies, and Antea to another. His was propped up against a short cobble wall.

"Throat torn open by man like jaws..." He said in a hushed voice, "Man like... except for long fangs."

Sighing, having a very good idea of what terrible creature may have committed these murders, and pushing off his knees to rise from the ground, he walked over to Antea, "What did you find?"

She sighed, and looked up from her crouched position, "Busted ribs - blood from the ears. Took a really solid hit. Absolutely massacred with no mercy. Have you any ideas as to what did it yet?"

"Mhmm." he gruffed. "Vampire. Not an ekimmara though, or a fleder. Gotta be a bruxa."

Antea blinked rapidly a few times as if she didn't believe what she had just heard, stood quickly and brushed the dust and blood from her pants, before standing both hands on hips, and staring at Geralt with a look of disbelief - and confusion.

"Vampires? Here? I wasn't sure they were entirely real, to be honest. Just children's stories... And what's a .. a... emikara and a feather and a brooka??" She asked with panic.

Geralt chuckled, amused by Anteas flustered state. "An ekimmara," He pronounced each syllable for her with a smirk on his face, "is a lesser vampire, though that term can be misleading. Incredibly strong. They're more like animals than humans. Swift, too. Fleders are similar, but are more brute. Bruxae, however, are no lesser vampire. A Bruxa is a very powerful type of vampire that takes on the appearance of a dark-haired, young human, most often female, but whose natural form is that of a large, black bat with sharp fangs and claws. It is one of few vampire species not affected by sun.  Bruxae are very agile and only silver swords are effective against them. While they have sharp claws for close up attacks, they can also let out a piercing scream from further away that can send even a grown man flying through the air."

"And... that's what you think did this?" She asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

He nodded, smiling at her sadly. Geralt's hand cupped her face gently, and kissed her head.

"It'll be fine. You still have the silver dagger I gave you?" He asked, drawing back as she pulled out the dagger from her cloak. "Good. You may need to use it. I want you to reserve your strength, though."

"You're letting me fight with you??" She asked in disbelief.

He shrugged nonchalantly, and she let out a small grin. "You've proven you're able to fight. I trust you. I think that you trust me. We can do it better together."

"Awww the lone wolf is finally letting someone in. This is a big step Geralt - big step!" She giggled, elbowing him in the arm as she entered the cellar ahead of him.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, following her quickly.

As they entered the cellar, Geralt focused, honing his senses for a second, before crouching down in front of a body.

"These are footprints - small, bare, human feet." He sighed, looking back up at Antea. Suddenly, they heard a pained groan from around the corner.
A man lay in front of them, slumped against the wall, breathing shallowly. Antea knelt beside him immediately, and harnessed her magic. She tried to heal his wounds to the best of her ability - but there were too many, and they were too brutal. Instead, she took his hand, and focused on his pain. She was able to relieve some, making the man breath in deeply.

"What happened here?" Geralt asked him, crouching down to his level.

The man shuddered, and gasped for air, trembling at the action of recalling the events that had just unfolded.

"A girl.." he whispered, "only... she wasn't. She - nothing like I've seen... threw me... such a force... And the others - ripped them to pieces..." The mans eyes suddenly became very wide, and panicked, as he turned towards Antea, and weakly pushed her away, "Eyes! Like yours - she was..."
Before he could finish, he began coughing, convulsing, and crying. Blood poured from his wounds and his nose, before Geralt heard his heart stop beating.

"He's dead." He huffed.

"No shit?" Antea retorted as she stood up suddenly, "What did he mean about my eyes? They're just eyes." She began poking at them and rubbing fiercely. Geralt reached forward and grabbed her hands.

"Stop that." He scolded, "Call your magic for a moment, I want to see something."

She rolled her eyes before he let go of her, and closed her lids, focusing. She opened them a few seconds later, a green hue appearing around her hand. Geralts face told her nothing, so she asked - 'Well?'

"Hmm..." He huffed as he took a closer look, "They're still red, Thea."

She shook her head quickly, and her eyes returned to their natural emerald colour. "That's impossible, they're green. They've always been green." She began to walk away, but Geralts hand around her arm stopped her.

"You need to be careful with your magic, Thea. You dont know what you're capable of yet."

She huffed, and pulled her arm back. "I know my limits perfectly well, thank you. You're just worried because you fancy me." She smiled, and winked, before turning around and calling after her, "Come on you softie! We've got monsters to slay!"

Just before he followed her, he bent down to inspect the body of the man who had just died, to look for claw marks. Instead, he saw a burned hand - where Antea had been holding it...