Lambert knew that going into any battle meant a chance of death. Although he'd been alive for hundreds of years, it didn't mean that he ignored that very reality.
In the past, the idea of death was a fate he didn't fear but embraced as a possibility to release him from his life as a witcher. He thought of it as a way to bring him back to his humanity, to return back to the earth, and hope to find peace there or wherever the afterlife would be if there was one. However, that changed overnight, as the thought of dying meant he couldn't be there to protect the people he loved.
Death also meant that all dreams of a future with a certain sorceress would never be realized. That change in perspective was the driving force for him to stay alive and hold on to what energy he had and not sink into the welcoming darkness of death.
Lambert felt the blood ooze from his side, where he was stabbed by a sword and where the healing potions did not work. He could feel the hands of death luring him to a peaceful eternal sleep, and yet in the fog of his time in between life and death, he could sense and hear her.
He heard Triss's voice in an ancient tongue reciting words of healing, and he could feel her. He could feel her energy and power feeding his ragged body until soon he felt his life force grabbing onto her energy as if suckling from it like a hungry babe.
"Triss, you need to stop!" Yennefer's voice pleaded, panic in her voice.
Lambert senses Triss did not heed the other sorceress's plea as she ignored Yennefer. The healing energy and power he siphoned from Triss was abruptly pulled away from him. He was certain Yennefer or one of the others pried Triss from him against her will.
Was Triss putting herself in danger for him?
He recalled her surge of magic as they battled the Wild Hunt. She had been injured, healed, and then also healed those around her multiple times.
He saw over time the toll it took when he found himself rescuing her from a possible slash from their opponent's sword. She was getting tired, her power waning, and he urged her to ease herself to make sure she caught her breath as he slaughtered their enemy. However, she was stubborn and didn't listen to him because as soon as he killed an enemy, he caught sight of a powerful flame burst collide onto the chest of a nearby opponent that charged towards him.
He turned to see Triss's arm outstretched, her face pale, and the flame fading in her hand. She saved him too, and together they fought. He didn't miss the fact that he could sense her energy and power waning, she was getting weak, and he noticed the cuts she endured were not healing as they should.
"I can heal him!" Triss' voice breaks the memory Lambert recalled.
Her voice is determined, even through her sobbing. Lambert felt another surge of energy course through him. She was continuing to heal him, her strength becoming his own. In the background, he could hear the protest from the others who likely stood in shock at her resolve.
The fog of near-death started to clear but only briefly, which allowed Lambert to open his eyes. Like a spirit outside his body, he found himself standing next to his body, unseen, as he watched Triss knelt over his still form. Her trembling hands were pressed firmly on his wound as she recited her incantations of healing.
"Please, Lambert, please, wake up. Come back," Triss said through tears. "Damnit, please to the gods wake up!"
Behind her stood Yennefer, and then soon Geralt and Eskel, who leaned on the taller witcher for support. They looked shocked at the scene. Lambert could tell in the eyes of his brothers that they were accepting of the fact that death was near but said nothing. Triss had always been stubborn, and it seemed they all succumbed to the fact that they couldn't stop her.
Lambert could feel Triss give her final surge of energy his way as she cursed under her breath. With quickness, he felt his spirit collapse into his body. He gasped out loud, air filling his lungs as his eyes opened wide.
Triss's tear-stained face and look of relief greeted him. Her soft trembling hands caressed his cheek as she thanked the gods that he was alive.
"Triss," he called out to her as he lifted his hand to cup her chin and wipe the tears away that fell down her cheeks. He hated seeing her like this, knowing he was the cause of it.
"I thought I lost you!" she said to him.
"You should have let me go because I could have lost you instead." He said as he studied the scars on her arms from her using too much power when she was so close to depletion.
Black lines marred her wrists and up her arms, a sign of overuse of her magic. He had heard of it happening. Some called it "mage poisoning," an illness that could overcome those with magic but had never seen it until now. It bothered him that Triss suffered from it and that she should be resting as well instead of taking care of him.
"Don't worry," she said to him as she pulled down her sleeves to hide the scars from his view. "Just rest. It will be okay."
Before he told her the same, he paused as Yennefer knelt beside Triss and whispered something in her ears. With a nod, Triss watched as Yennefer said an incantation as she placed a hand to his forehead. Lambert was slowly forced to drift off to restful sleep, but before he did, he heard Triss say, "We both survived, and that's what matters," as she placed a soft kiss on his lips. And for the first time he could remember, he thanked the gods that he would live another day.