The Witcher The Swallow and The Monster

The Fang and The Swallow

"People have called me mad. Many more have called me unfeeling. I don't see myself that way. I see myself as being realistic. Seeing the world for what it is, is enough to be labeled insane. As it should be." - (F/N) (L/N)

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The trip to Velen was grueling. It was hot and humid and (F/N)'s back was aching, it was as if it could sense he was near the land of the Crones. The boat ride was the worst, he was tasked with keeping the drowners away. Of course the monsters would grab him, and try to pull him in. But they would die before they did so. In a way, the witcher envied them, they lived such simple lives, they didn't have to worry about saving the world. Just killing the next fishermen and eating, it was that simple.

That wasn't to say the trip was all bad. (F/N) didn't realize how much he had missed Ciri until, they rode with Geralt. It had been years since they all rode together. Ciri told of a world where she met a knight, Galahad was his name, and he showed her a kingdom that was unlike anything she had seen, ruled by a fair and just King, Arthur they called him. (F/N) was skeptical such a perfect world existed, but Ciri assured him it did, although there was plenty of work for witchers. When she spoke of it, she sounded like she was speaking of an old home. When she spoke of Galahad, her voice stopped, as though she missed him the most. The witcher noticed Geralt was oddly quiet, he would just look between them, he swore he caught him smiling or smirking every so often.

When the trio finally drifted ashore, (F/N) pulled the boat onto the shore, his back ached, it wanted the monsters who broke him to pay. The witcher glanced at Ciri, "Where you ever here when you were in Velen last?"

The woman shook her head, "The men at Crow's Perch spoke of this place. Aard Cerbin. Home of the Ladies of the Wood."

The dark sky didn't make the path ahead look any less horrid. Dead trees littered the path. The bushes rustled with beasts that made Geralt and Ciri's medallions tremble, as well as some that didn't. The wind ominously whistled, the Crones were expecting them, they had to be, "The name fits."

Ciri nodded as they set off, "The peasants feared coming here. And the baron thought the Ladies of the Wood a terrifying tale for naughty children. Incidentally, I wonder how the baron is."

(F/N) lowered his head, his gut felt as though a stone had been placed there. Geralt looked at his ward, "He found his wife, took her away, far away...she was unwell."

Ciri's boots clicked against the stone path, she glanced back at them, unaware of the responsibility (F/N) had played, "A true shame."

The young witcher sighed, "That's the path. You can't save everyone, and you don't always get to rid into the sunset as a hero."

Geralt looked at his ward, but he didn't say anything. It had taken him years to come to that very same conclusion. (F/N) had done it in days, he had grown at a rate no one should at his age, not even a witcher. The trio stayed silent for the journey, the reason they were here wasn't lost on them. (F/N) looked at Ciri, the witcheress stood tall, she wanted to avenge Vesemir, they all did, but she took his death personally, "Did Avallac'h say anything about Imlerith?"

She nodded, as she recalled what she had heard, "He did, vanity's his greatest weakness, he strives for flesh, wine, sex, you name it."

(F/N) scoffed, "Shocking." His master raised a brow, "Vanity?"

"Any foe he faces, he strives to impress. The other one Caranthir, is said to be secretive and pragmatic. Hardly surprising, given he was Avallach's student."

The youngest witcher shook his head, "The Wild Hunt's powerful, but they're not as powerful as they like to think."

As they walked along the path, they began to find lit torches. The sound of celebrating could be heard in the distance. Then the sound of a crossbow loading could be heard, "Outsiders."