makaylagrunberg
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- Parts 53
~You are not supposed to exist.
The words followed Geralt long after they were spoken, echoing louder than steel on steel. He had said them calmly, too calmly like a fact carved into the bones of the world. Like destiny itself had rules, and she had broken every one of them.
The elf woman stood across from him, blood streaked across her cheek, silver eyes bright with pain and defiance. Her medallion, a witcher's medallion, rested against her chest, unmistakable in shape and hum. Not human. Not possible.
"Darling," she said softly, almost amused, "none of us are supposed to exist."
Geralt had hunted monsters his entire life. He had learned what could be created, what could be destroyed, and what should never be. Witchers were a mistake, everyone knew that. A brutal experiment forced upon unwanted boys.
But an elven witcher?
That was something else entirely.
Elves were never meant to survive the Trials. They were never meant to be altered, sharpened, reforged into weapons. And yet here she was, faster than him, senses just as sharp, magic humming beneath her skin in a way no witcher should possess.
Everything Geralt thought he knew cracked in that moment.
About witchers.
About choice.
About destiny.
And about himself.
Because if she existed, if someone like her could exist, then maybe the world had been lying to him all along.