~ chapter 12 ~

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Night arrived swiftly, and myself and Geralt approached the abandoned castle's gates - Geralt with a bag in hand containing who knows what weapons.
Geralt had left that pig tied to the bed posts in Adda's bedroom, trying to break him and get him to confess to what kind of curse he had placed on the girl.
As we approached the gates, a swarm of guards came to us, and Geralt sighed and unsheathed his sword, pushing me behind him slightly with his free hand.

"Oh so quick to violence!" King Foltest spoke as he emerged from the pile of guards, "Strange, considering what Miss Merigold told me about you..."

"And what's that?" Geralt huffed,

"She told me to trust you." He scoffed before approaching the tall Witcher, and murmuring, "Will this work? Answer honestly."

"I don't know." Geralt said calmly.

"Will my - will my daughter be normal?" the King questioned, with a sad look on his face.

"She'll need special care. She's lived as an animal - all she's ever known is... rage, and hunger." Geralt answered honestly as he sheathed his sword, which seemed to create a chain reaction among the guards, making them sheath theirs, too.

Geralt bent down to his bag and pulled something from it, handing it to the King,

"What's this?" He asked,

"For the princess," Geralt answered, "If I can lift the curse, a gift."

"You're giving me this because you do not expect to see morning." Foltest snapped, and my head turned to Geralt, wondering if this is true.

"Geralt, maybe you-." I began,

"This isn't my first time trying to save a princess who others saw as a monster." He huffed, interrupting me. A curious look grew on my face - who was he talking about?

"What happened to that princess?"

"I killed her." Geralt stated bluntly.

Blaviken. Geralt of Rivia, The Butcher of Blaviken. I had heard stories of the gruesome scenes and bloody deaths he had reaped there, one including a young woman, with whom he duelled. She was believed to possess magic, too. Maybe he was just a witch-killer, maybe I shouldn't trust him.

Foltest awoke me from my daydream, speaking about how he and Adda tried to resist. He disgusted me, so I picked up the bag of weapons - with difficulty - and turned to Geralt.

"Come along, then." I smiled sadly and walked towards the gates of the castle.
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"Geralt?" I whispered as we walked the castle's halls to Adda's bedroom, "In Blaviken - did you kill the woman because she was a witch?"

Geralt paused and met my eyes.
"No, Antea, I did not." be held his state for a moment before turning once again to walk along the hall. Well, that was informative.
Once we reached the door to Adda's room, Geralt put his hand on my shoulder and held me in place.

"Stay here." He commanded,

"But I can help!" I argued,

"Thea, please. I don't want you to see this." He begged. I nodded slowly and watched him enter the bedroom. Ostritt's cries filled the hallway, and I was biting my nails in anticipation. It suddenly grew quiet, and I was about to go in when Geralt came out, angry, and eyes black.

"So...?" I asked,

"I need to keep her out of her crypt till the fucking rooster crows three times." He growled.

"You mean, 'we'." I said with a smirk.

"No. I don't. You're leaving." He grumbled as he walked away from me.

"Hey! I'm not leaving you here to face that thing alone." I walked quickly after him.

"Thea please, you've seen the people it's slaughtered!" He turned to me, panic evident in his voice, "It bested a Witcher, 'Tea."

"Another reason I can't leave you alone." I replied with a small smile. He simply sighed, and seemingly accepted the fact that I'm much too stubborn to admit when I'm in way over my head, "Besides - it's too late..."

A horrifying screech filled the halls of the castle, followed by the agonised screams of man - Ostrit. I gulped, my palms were sweaty and I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. An arm placed itself on mine, and I flinched. Geralt withdrew his hand, and offered me a small sword.

"Please use it."

I nodded and turned to face what Geralt had already seen. The dragging noises of its claws was already enough to make my stomach turn, but I couldn't help but feel pity for the creature. It was violent and ruthless, but it didn't know better. It was probably the ugliest thing I've ever seen - true enough - it was hard to tell why was skin, and what was bone.

Geralt grabbed his long silver chain and lassoed the Striga, causing her skin to burn as the silver touched it. I stood, aimlessly watching both of them struggle - but the Striga quickly freed itself.

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