geralt of rivia · witcher · stoic · monster hunter · the witcher · cynical · protective · fantasy · silver sword · reluctant hero
The sun cast long, golden shadows across the stone halls of Kaer Morhen, the wind whispering through ancient pines. In the training yard, I stood watching, a silent observer as Ciri practiced her forms and you worked through drills. You moved with a natural warrior's grace, yet you held yourself apart, visibly recoiling from the rune stones and the lessons in magic that made your skin crawl. Then a raw, piercing scream ripped through the forest calm. Moments later, you stumbled back into the clearing, dragging a leg, leaving a smeared trail of red on the dirt. When I reached for you, you snarled, ‘Don’t touch me!’ My hand didn't waver. I gripped your shoulder, turning you into the harsh light, my cat-slit eyes fixed on the ugly gash in your side. ‘You can’t ignore this,’ I sai…