Note: So there you go,our next chapter of the Witcher fic! So it is mostly an expansion on how their friendship came by (Those who read Baptism of Fire will know that he has such a great scene),and it is nice amidst the angst of my previous chapter. So enjoy and feedback would be appreciated.
Chapter 2-Wormwood and Cinnamon
Ravens flutter by, as Regis whispered words on finding the creatures that Geralt mentioned to make the formula of resonance. He tried to shake off that thought that Dettlaf is extreme enough to cut his own hand off,to show his love for a friend,no a human lover. Is it by humanely conceptual as mortals called it deep love ,brothers bound by blood. For Regis, it came in a literal sense when Dettlaf took that plunge in nursing Regis,his body all broken. His heart is saddened in just thinking of him. Regis owned that vampire his life, no akin to the fearful folks of Toussiant calling him the Beast of Beauclair,but he must focus on finding the whereabouts of Dettalf,though he promised that he would not reveal the locations. Reluctantly perhaps. For he knows that Dethaff is lost in the murky and winding streets of the mortal world,manipulating the sensitive side of Dethaff-like the stereotype of vampires hungering the blood of virgins.
Strange,and cliche as it seems,a vampire walking through cemeteries and living in crypts like the undead ,Regis did not mind the peace at the ,the fireflies seems to float by eternally and evanescent,the massive graves of Toussaint proves the unlikely setting for catching up with old times,flowery names and epitaphs of the carefreeness of the citizens in Toussaint. Figures of the prophet Lebodia in prayer for the souls of the deceased,wrapped in cobwebs and her serene face chipped by the elements, the fogs diffusing the harsh glow of the city lights of Beauclair. He seems to fit right in that otherworldly world. In Geralt's mind of course,despite his claims on the negative stereotypes of vampires,and how it breeds chaos and malice into mortal hearts,he seems to accept that he did act upon certain characteristics of his race,of course.
Geralt known that smell of Regis,he could recall Percival's exclamation of a ghoul having the aromas of medical herbs on a small hut ,it seems silly at first, given that Geralt have his fair shares of the impossible but came a strange man,different from his current regeneration,Regis probably shed a few years younger now with a slightly stylish receding hairline and mutton chops making him look like a Novigrad trader,rather than the rural healer/surgeon enjoying living in seclusion,walking passages with stalks of rosemary and sage to dispel bad odours from the plague as he quipped on the medical benefits of plants. His look seems different from that previous incarnation where he kept his long hair loose with a slight braid, and that stoic gaze observing the band of renegades in his summer hunt. Geralt recalls that fond memory of him tasting the blood of wounds of Dandelion and commenting the taste of his blood,which spooks some of the party members,which little think that he is actually a vampire. "What is that-",observing a flock of black birds flying by,for he knows of these birds to be signs of leshens ,terrible and mad spirits of the forest destroying the paths of mortals. "If I recall these black birds are nothing but messengers to leshens-"
"In contrary-" as he watched the bird flew by to the blinding skies "-A raven."
Seems Regis is all knowing of the birds in Toussaint,like his beast knowledge,the meticulous hours of preparations of oils, bombs and swords as the part of his training as the witcher in the rocky mountains of Kaer Morhem. However, his observations are always sharp,as Geral's swords. "Very intelligent fowl. I asked him to look for the creatures you mentioned. Him and his brethren-" Geralt seems impressed by that knowledge of his fowl and botany ,Regis' eyes narrowed slightly as he watched that last bird flutter by "I would hazard that a flock of ravens will spy any said creature faster than any solitary witcher would-" as usual Regis always have a quip for the intelligent words."you must be thinking about crows,these birds are the ones that follow leshens, Geralt-" With that time,"Will all due respect-" Geralt noticed that he took out a bottle from his herb-scented satchel and slowly swirled it back and forth,watching the infusion diffuse amidst the flicker of the about their adventures.
"Nonetheless so -" With that small closed smile,he raised a quiet eyebrow,observing the surroundings,perhaps there is a moment to just settle down. "Perhaps you'd cared for a sniffler of mandrake-" Regis spoke dryly,given the amount of time they have to wait for the ravens to fly by. Of course, Geralt thought,as he broke out a small smile "Rarely said no to a sniffler-" as he glanced at that bottle. He could recall Regis at the campfire with Zoltan,the crackling fire,Cahir sulking miserably at the surroundings,Milva tying the strings of her crossbow and Zoltan chuckling loudly,an unlikely family,all with its weakness and strengths,at last without surviving limb and arm,to just relax and have fun. Perhaps it was the opportunity to catch up with old times without thinking of the main clause of searching for him."Rarely said no to a sniffler-" as he glanced at that bottle. He could recall Regis at the campfire with Zoltan,the crackling fire,Cahir sulking miserably at the surroundings,Milva tying the strings of her crossbow and Zoltan chuckling loudly,an unlikely family,all with its weakness and strengths,at last without surviving limb and arm,to just relax and have fun. Perhaps it was the opportunity to catch up with old times without thinking of the main clause of searching for him.
"Sadly,this is just a weak infusion rather than a proper distillate-" Regis spoke quietly as if disappointed by the mixture he made,Geralt gave that chuckle "even better-" recalling that hooch by the campfire,when they become slobbering drunks and Cahir calling out that he is not from that region,and Milva starting to lose her stubbornness with a swirl of booze. Regis seems to take the league,making himself comfortable within the crypts,fireflies and candles lighting names of the deceased,yes it can be cliche for a vampire as dictated by the folks from Novigrad to Velen,and of course Regis is always subverting the old tropes of the folklore of these elusive creatures,but Geralt could breathe easily, for once he is not running over all of the twisting corners in Toussaint searching for the elusive Beast of Beauclair,by unfortunate circumstances,tracking a blood brother to Regis,definitely a sniffer change things 'I still remember your mandrake hooch,makes people say things-" That small smirk seems to ease off the tense conversation a they have while back ago,perhaps a drink make company of all.