Yennefer and I are done. How many times has Eskel heard that line since witch and Witcher had been bound together? Sure, what she had done was...pretty fucked up, but Eskel won't hold his breath.
He sits hunched over his white gull, picking at a splintered spot in the table. His shoulder aches. His chest aches. Everything is going to change now, no matter how hard both of them fought it. Geralt had a novice witcher to look after now, even if she'd be different than the one's they'd been raised with. And whatever was going to happen to Eskel remained to be seen. But maybe just for a little while, before the sun comes up, before Ciri calls Geralt to fight the horrors that plague her dreams, things can be as they once were between them.
He reaches for Geralt's arm with the hand unmarred by the black lightning strike scars left by the leshen. He squeezes, a wordless promise of forgiveness.
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He sits hunched over his white gull, picking at a splintered spot in the table. His shoulder aches. His chest aches. Everything is going to change now, no matter how hard both of them fought it. Geralt had a novice witcher to look after now, even if she'd be different than the one's they'd been raised with. And whatever was going to happen to Eskel remained to be seen. But maybe just for a little while, before the sun comes up, before Ciri calls Geralt to fight the horrors that plague her dreams, things can be as they once were between them.
He reaches for Geralt's arm with the hand unmarred by the black lightning strike scars left by the leshen. He squeezes, a wordless promise of forgiveness.