Nobody's Memories
Chapter 13 - Butcher of Blaviken
 I dream. Darkness
There is no light here A platform in the dark My... Heart? it's gone, broken, a shell. There are eyes now Hissing at me They come up to me.
The hissing is louder They are bright and yellow My heart is here They bore into me They know I'm still here.

And like that, I wake up. My head hurts, worse than it did the first time my control over time had been broken, and trying to clamp down on it, to adjust it in the slightest... it hurts. A lot. Black spots and ringing in my ears hurts. I wince, and decide it is a very bad idea to do that again. The pain made the urge to touch the other sections of my mind so, so much worse. I was thankfully not literally painfully aware of them, but I had more important things to consider. What had that dream been? Also, where was I? I had fallen unconscious, and couldn't alter time in the slightest, at least willingly, meaning I was in a potentially very, very bad spot. Let's see...

First off, I am shirtless. My robes are neatly folded and hung from the border of the bed, by my feet, meaning I'm in a bed. And... ya, I think I don't want to know what my situation is underneath this blanket. Also, there's a blanket! A very astute observation considering I had realized I was in a bed. Not the nicest blanket, pretty dang scratchy, but I can live with that. I think I'm in some sort of healers hut, or hospital, or whatever the medieval-aged Witcher-verse equivalent was; there were other beds of a similar nature, one to my left and one to my right; a bookshelf, a table between each bed, a nice looking window that sunlight was filtering through...

So, the situation looked fairly good. No need to panic and plan my escape. I had no idea where my stuff was, but judging by the view from the window, I was in a city - probably Oxenfurt. I had been right outside of it whenever whatever had gone wrong had, well, gone wrong after all. There were no people around, at least none that hadn't been trained as some sort of ninja that were completely evading my vision. Considering the setting, I could scratch that off the list of possibilities.

So, I was alone. Just myself, my thoughts, my attempts at emotion, and the background noises of a busy city. No cats, no overreacting guards, no bandits for me to slaughter.

"Mrow?"

No, never mind, there was apparently a cat in here. It had just hopped up onto the bed. A tortoiseshell, I think? I may be a cat person, but that didn't mean I knew jack about cat bree- aaaaaaand it had just sat on my chest. I think it's smirking at me and i quite clearly wants me to pet it. The door was closed, how had it even gotten in here? Well ,sorry I'm not sorry little buddy, I'm going to have to remove you from the premises of my body.

Except I can't. Because most of my strength came from Time bullshit, and I can't currently feel my arms. Or move them. Muscle Fatigue? Did I even HAVE muscles?

"Well sorry, but it looks like I both can't get you off me and can't pet you buddy." I murmur to the cat. Now it's looking at my rudely, how great. Well, I suppose I'll have to lean back and rest my full weight on the pillow for now and... well, isn't this an uncomfortable sensation. Well, maybe not Uncomfortable, just odd. A feather pillow. How oddly Coherent I was today. I was thinking with a constant narrative and everything! I supposed that thinking and acting in a constantly shifting frame of reference as far as time was concerned didn't lend itself to consistency. Nor did my tendency to fake emotions properly. Or inability to read others. Or my general thought process. Or... y'know, I think I wasn't going to find out how deep that rabbit hole went today.

The cat's ears twitch and perk up as it looks towards the door. I follow its gaze, and can hear voices.

"... freakiest of things. One moment the guards said he was fine, if a bit deranged, and the next he collapsed where he sat. Looked as though he had been struck by lightning, and there was noise enough to seem like he was. Some of 'em swear up and down it seemed as though time itself slowed when it happened. Have ya talked to the guards yet?"

"Some of them. Anyone else I should try to find?"

They sounded muffled, and far off, but the voices were clearly growing closer. One male, one female, though I couldn't clearly tell yet. One of them sounded... oddly familiar. I closed my eyes and began to act as though I was still asleep.

"Ye could ask them for the other merchants names. They were behind 'im, after all. Beyond that, I don't know. Whole thing sounds might odd to me, and not like the sort of thing to be handed over to you instead of someone more trustworthy. Was it a Witches curse? Ye should know, considerin' who ya are.."

"The whole of this scenario is odd. And I don't blame you for feeling like I'm under qualified, considering the city's recent... views. Tell me again what he looks like?"

Yes, the male voice was sounding distinctly... familiar. Gruff. And this conversation... it sounded oddly like a video games dialog.

"He was wearin' this silver robe, a big old hood oh its back, and has this pale skin. Smooth as a baby's bottom, and I should know. Had to take off his robes myself, an' he had this odd material as some sort of underwear, same as his robes. I found that book ya were looking through earlier in a pocket fold when I went and folded his cloak."

Oh thank god that was one question answered. I missed something the male had said, though his voice was sounding very, very familiar now. Sounded as though they had stopped right outside my door.

" - and last we checked, he was still out like a light. Has been for a week, and he's spat up all the food and water we've tried given him, but he's not changed at all."

"I see."

Wait a second.

"If I may ask, Sir Witcher -"

I knew why I knew that voice. I cracked one of my open a bit.

" - Why have ye taken such an interest in him? I thought yer kind didn't take part in anythin' without offer of coin."

"Well." Geralt of Rivia said, opening the door.

"I've taken a personal interest. And so have many, many others."

Geralt closed the door behind him as he entered the room, an elderly woman standing beside him. He had two swords strapped to his back, one silver and one steel, and was wearing an odd mixture of blue clothing and chain mail. He possessed a pleasant beard, and form his neck proudly hung an amulet shaped like a snarling wolf head.

Oh yes. There was no denying it now.

The Butcher of Blaviken, The White Wolf, and a dozen other titles had just entered a closed room with me when I was very distinctly not human.

When I was weakened.

And when he had just expressed interest in me.

Shit.