Chapter 6 – A Shift in Attitude

Note from Author: I am really enjoying writing this and I hope you all like reading it. This is a VERY short chapter but stayed tuned because I will be dropping an extra long one today or tomorrow. This story will transform with more romance, more action, and more Witcher 😊

"They told me you knew." Geralt rises and brings me warm bread and strips of cow. He holds my chin gently and feeds me a small piece. I take it, gratefully.

"Knew what?"

"That you were a shifter."

I pull at the wrist shackles, weakly. I've heard of shifters. Humans that transform into beasts at will. All different ones – snakes, bears, wolves, eagles.

"How could I be a shifter?" I laugh meekly, in disbelief. Then I realize, these are enchanted shackles – meant to hold me even if I morph into a bird or beast, no matter what kind. The cuffs would change as I change.

"It's in Olix blood," he carefully pulls a strand of hair away from my face so I can drink from his waterskin. I accept, once again, grateful that he is even speaking to me. He cradles my head and tips the skin into my mouth.

"A curse was placed on your family. Every fifth generation of Olix, there would be a shifter. The first shift would take place on their 25th."

Geralt's brows are furrowed tightly. He is conflicted. Yes, he has chained me to wall, but feeds me and cares for me.

"So I will shift, tonight?" I feel a pressure in my blood now. I am a beast. Would I be conscious as this monster? Or will I be overcome with my instincts, an animal out for blood? The coldness in my stomach is fear, I realize now. I could hurt someone if I wasn't chained to this wall, I could murder hundreds in a single shift. I am almost grateful shackled this way, now.

"If Tara read your father's lineage correctly, you should shift at midnight. And if you escape, or try to hurt anyone, I'm here to stop you."

Stupidity overcomes me. All the plots, the anger, the vicious fight I gave him. All the while, Geralt has been trying to save others lives. He is doing his job, and I am the monstrous one. I spit out the only thing that comes to mind.

"Thank you." I feel pathetic now. Geralt smiles, just a gentle up-curve on his lips. His rough, large hand pushes all the hair away from my face – it gives warmth in my neck, a warmth I haven't felt in a very long time. It is odd, both of us together, him stroking my head while I'm enslaved to a wall. All the while, there is an impending shift. "Please, don't let me hurt anyone."

"I'll kill you if I have to," he says suddenly, his voice a low rumble. I inhale deeply and try not to look terribly afraid of him and his lengthy sword. I want to be brave, to accept my fate. It would be terribly noble of me to want to die so no one else would get hurt – but I am selfish, I know. However, I can't help it now. Either he kills me or doesn't, I have little say on the matter.

An hour passes and all we do is sit. I stare at the wall, try to breath, furiously push panic away from my thoughts. Geralt watches me intently – a few weapons set out beside him.

Then I feel it. A daggering pain in my back, arching it. I throw my head back let out a scream. Geralt jumps and takes up a large axe. Then my arm spasms, as if the bones are cracking and realigning. I curse loudly when my shoulders shift in their sockets. I am changing. I am shifting.

I never knew pain could do this. My legs are morphing, my muscles shattering into fabric that is being resewn into something new. The last thing I see is Geralt, an axe in tow, sadness in his eyes.