Celeste always felt she was meant for greatness, even though she was born out of tragedy.
Celeste born and raised in Kaer Morhen, after her mother, Vesemir's one true love, passed away after birth.
In honor of Celeste's mother, Vesemir raised the l...
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Geralt's eyes sailed calmly as he watched Celeste from afar. The white-haired woman was moving swiftly through the obstacles of the small witcher training path. Geralt had not an ounce of concern about Celeste and an obstacle, she had always been the best, the most agile, the fastest and craftiest, she was the one who held the record and no one had ever managed to steal her title.
Watching Celeste train made Geralt transported directly to the time when he was a young witcher in love with his best friend. He could feel the pit in his stomach that made him a little anxious when he saw the girl's frown, knowing that she was bothered by something. It had been a few days since they had arrived in Kaer Morhen and also the reunion of Celeste and Vesemir. He knew it would not be easy, but he did not expect it to be so...uncomfortable.
He tried to keep his mind off Vesemir and Celeste's situation, as he was reliving moments he never thought he would have the opportunity to remember, but there he was, watching Celeste's spectacular fighting prowess. She didn't do it in a rough way like the other witchers, Celeste had a way of fighting that was more like a dance. She didn't take a step in vain, it looked choreographed, but it was bathed in improvisation, her movements as agile and powerful as they were, were also beautiful and captivating. It was great entertainment, to watch her fight, but it also served as learning. Geralt tried to incorporate some of the girl's moves into his fighting, but he was so rough and tough that he looked like an idiot trying to copy her.
He wished he could go back in time and tell her that she was the best witcher he had ever seen, that she was an inspiration to him, as well as a born competitor. He wanted her to know how special she was, not only to him, but how unique she was, like a red rose in the middle of Kaer Morhen's winter, while all the others were suffering, with their petals already stuck to the ground, Celeste still shone and against all odds, prevailed.
Geralt was afraid, he knew that he didn't have a drop of the jug that was Celeste's courage and determination. Yes, he was a great witcher, he was good at what he did, killing monsters, and he didn't mind getting guts and viscera all over himself, but in matters of the heart, the ones that really demand courage, Geralt was a coward. He might look strong and determined on the outside, but in truth he was only thinking of ways to escape any emotional responsibility, anything that went outside his pattern of earning coin for dead monsters. Celeste was not like that, on the contrary, she had a heart of gold, would give her life for the one she loves and was not afraid to face the wrath of the seven seas, as long as it was necessary, for Celeste would never do the unnecessary, she was not dumb enough to spend energy she did not need.
