Hestia de Aretuza used to be a mage like all the others. Abandoned in Aretuza, tales tell that she was covered in fire, unharmed, untouched, with red bright eyes like a beast.
It didn't take long for the others to notice there was something special...
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"I hate you" was the first thing Hestia said in weeks towards Geralt, she had a big shiny, elven, expensive sword on her back, while wearing tight black paints and black long sleeve shirt. She still had her rings on her fingers, on top of her scarlet gloves, carrying a heavy bag.
Hestia passed right through Geralt, she had a perfect posture, her back straight and her chin up. She seemed extremely determined and also very on the edge, as a lion just waiting to attack.
"May I carry your bag for you, Emperor of the Continent?" Geralt provoked her, speeding his pace to be at the same as hers, but Hestia didn't face him, she kept walking, appearing even angrier.
"I really fucking hate you" she repeated herself, following the path to the harbor. Even stepping with such anger, she still seemed to be floating, so graceful and light, even with her expression telling the exact opposite.
"you're being redundant, I expected more of you" he said, standing just two steps behind her, even though she seemed way angrier than before, now she was at least talking to him, so he was achieving his goal.
Hestia suddenly stopped, which took the witcher by surprise, making him bump on her. She turned to face him fast, pushing him away with the point of her fingers.
"I hate you so much I wish I'd burn you to the ground" her eyes were bright red, but something changed on her way of speaking, her voice went just a little crooked, which was a big flag for Geralt, that all of that was superficial anger and she was appealing to obvious fake death threats in the effort of trying to impose her resentment.
"Then why don't you do it then?" Geralt couldn't help to grin, with her eyes shinning as the sun hitting on a ruby, her cheeks reddish from the level of annoyance he was getting her too, the steady serious smile that at that moment had no impact in him whatsoever. Her hands were sweating and had no tone of red, which proved that all of that was a sort of act, if she was truly possessed by anger and wanted him dead, she would be burning from head to toe.
