So I'm fairly new to The Witcher fandom so please be kind, I've been a fan of Buffy for years. So I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if Buffy and Geralt met and befriended one another
I take suggestions for chapters and please be kind with reviews
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The air was thick and humid, she could barely breathe and she felt like she was breathing in smoke. Far from the carefree freedom of the village they belonged, among the hustle of civilians going about their day, often wondering why she still protected them despite the hatred and prejudice she faced. She would never be blessed with the mundane life they took for granted, she would forever be dragged into battle, she would always be forced to face a new danger no matter her personal feelings on the matter. Never any gratitude, no praise, no admiration and no sense of worth, always seen as a hindrance, a freak, shamed, insulted and hated to the bitter end. Yet she carried on her duty regardless, she did this for the many not for the few, the brief moments of gratitude she was shown upon saving the lives of the innocent was enough for her. Rather than face endless amounts of avoidable deaths caused by the enemies she couldn't beat, it was a relief to her conscience. The scent of dirt, filth and moisture, filled the air, the scent of the swamp, dead and mangled trees surrounded by marsh plants. The soft ground slippery, her feet sinking beneath the ground like glue, dragging her under, like vines forming ropes, threatening to bind her. She always seemed to find herself in the worst places for battle, it was never a dungeon, a castle or the likes, somewhere decrepit and foul, but the monsters seemed to love it. Though she preferred to wander through the graveyards waiting for vampires to rise so they couldn't attack humans.
Buffy's gaze averted absently to her surroundings, sensing movement nearby, her body turning rigid automatically, allowing her guard to raise to better defend herself against the enemy. Fixating her concentration on whoever had attempted a surprise attack, a young doe stood nearby, nibbling on marsh plants, seeking an easy meal. Buffy sighed heavily in relief, but she knew better than to lower her guard, she could smell it in the air, her skin vibrating as though electricity was dancing upon her skin. Something was here, something was looming in the darkness beyond her reach. The creatures most people had nightmares about or believed were fairytales, she had seen up close and fought alone. Faced near death and always come out the victor, one way or another. Her heart hammering within her breast, her instincts telling her to run but she pushed them to the back of her mind. From her vision she noticed the deer raise its head, it had heard something too. Her head whipped as she heard a bubbling sound, movement despite how brief it was caught her attention, something diving into the depths of the murky swamp water. She slowly began to approach, making sure to be slow and cautious in case she needed to dodge, or something came from behind. Bubbles erupted from the surface abruptly, the deer twitching in response, chewing the last of its spoils before departing from the banks of the swamp.
Buffy gripped her axe in hand, her pale fingers twisting around the metal handle embedded in the blades back, venting her internal anxiety and doubt into the blade, her lifeline, her comfort. Any normal person would have run, escaped from this place to preserve their life, but she headed into danger, nobody else could face them, nobody else was capable. Her stomach was in knots, knowing her life was always on the line, it didn't leave you without anxiety. The deer sniffed near the water before hesitantly backing away, its nature of self preservation kicking in as it decided to escape. Buffy drew closer to the waters edge nearby the deer, holding her breath as she slowly edged towards the embankment. Fully aware that something could drag her beneath the swamps deaths and drown her if given the chance. Suddenly, a figure appeared from the murky waters, startling the doe and Buffy gripping her weapon tighter, taking in its form with disgust and awe. The creature appeared to be an insect, arachnid in nature, this had to be a first for her, a rare surprise compared to what she was used to facing. Had it perhaps caught onto her scent or perhaps movement, she'd lost count at times such as these. She had to educate herself on every enemy before battle, every time a new lesson and a new species in which she was alien to. No monster was alike, each had different abilities and different appearances, never making it easy. She'd seen countless visions, witnessed numerous battles, experienced endless losses, it had all began to blend into one large mess.
The arachnids arm reached out to attempt to kill the deer, instead of frightening it and lightly wounding it. Buffy leapt out of the way, rolling out of the danger zone of the creatures width, she had become a natural at coping with physical combat thanks to Giles teachings, her senses were innate, her speed, reflexes and agility made dodging this thing a piece of cake. Most humans would have been dead instantly, blind to the danger around them, but she was prepared for anything and everything, it came with the job after all. Her clothes stained by the filth of the marsh, the scent now stronger on her skin, she cringed, pissed that she would be yet again due new clothing, but thankful she could afford it this time. She never knew if she would get paid for the next job that came her way, often mocked or hated in her line of work. She averted her gaze, her green eyes fixated on the creatures black shelled form, acknowledging a possible opening and weak spot she could use to win the fight faster. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of someone, a person, she had believed she was out here alone yet she was very much mistaken. Wondering if she had interrupted the creature during a meal, wondering if she had been too late to save someone. He was tall, muscular with a large build frame, his body was bigger in stature and mass than the likes of Angel. He certainly had more muscles and he was taller from what she could make out of him. He was wearing dark armour, a lot of padding and layers, a large sword in hand, he'd certainly come prepared for a fight. The longer she looked at him, she was able to make out his unusual physical traits up close, she had never seen such golden glowing eyes before, feline in nature, reminding her of a harvest moon, haunting and illuminated. His silver hair gleaming like moonlight itself, tousled, wavy and yet looked so soft, bound in a small braid around the back of his head, the rest flowing freely.
She sensed a power from him, much like herself, strength, power and dominance. She had met all sorts of beings of supernatural origin during her travels, witches, warlocks, mystical beings, mages, half elves etc. But she had never met anyone like herself, not one who was as inept in battle as herself, this was indeed a strange day. He sliced off the creature's hand, dropping to the ground on all fours like a cat, barely fazed by his brief subjection to being trapped underwater. His gaze wandered to notice her watching him with curiousity, they stared at each other briefly, locking eyes in a moment of silent communication. A moment of acknowledgement, noticing they were both prepared for battle but weren't expecting company, prepared to face this alone. A look of confusion forming on their features, taking in the other, desperate for answers yet they couldn't find the words, not a word was spoken between them. Buffy scrambled to her feet, still gripping her axe, the man gripping his sword and turning towards the creature, swiping its body mercilessly to impact further damage. Cursing that she had allowed herself to be distracted so easily in battle, I mean she was only human but it could still cost her life. Loud growls erupted from the creature's mouth, angrily lunging at both attackers.
Buffy ran at the beast, swiping and stabbing with her weapon, cutting off further arms and ducking when it swiped at her. Knowing that should that creature grab a hold of her, it could impale her on those sharp tarsus it used to remain balanced. She couldn't rest until the creature was beaten, then she could enjoy a hot bath and a meal when this was all over. Suddenly, the creature plunged an arm at him, the sharp end of its leg piercing his chest, stabbing into his armour, the male was submerged into the murky waters once more forcefully, being held under to drown him. Buffy ran at the creature, leaping into the air without a second thought, her job as the slayer was to preserve lives. This guy could fight, but like her he had weaknesses, she wasn't going to let him drown due to a giant bug. Screaming with rage as she stabbed her axe into the creatures leg, the sound of cracking shell and the stench of the creatures bodily fluid wafting up to her nose. The spider erupting a screaming pain from its mouth as her weapon sliced into its flesh, displeased by the constant attacks it was enduring. She pushed harder causing the leg to detach and collapse into the water, freeing the man. She then began to climb onto the creatures back, prepared to cut off the creatures head with a single blow. However, the erratic movement of the creature made it hard for her to keep steady, holding on for dear life while digging her blade into its body. She'd faced the undead, demons and other horrors that most girls her age believed were nightmares, yet here she was once again fighting for her life. She had attempted to avoid her fate during her teens, the main cause for her parents divorce, sneaking out at night to fight monsters much to their disapproval. They never believed her stories about where she had been, seeing her as possibly insane. However, her mother didn't realise Buffy had been telling the truth all along until it was too late, now the battles never stopped, never ceased, sure there was a brief period of peace but the battles were endless.
Geralt immediately swam free, pushing away from the creature as he sensed an opening, his lungs fighting for oxygen after being pinned underwater for so long. Compared to humans he could last longer than the average human, but he could still die from suffocation like anyone else. Grabbing his blade beneath the water, plunging into the depths before diving to the surface for air. Buffy heard the sound of a horse nearby, nervous whinnies as she waited for her master, hoping that nobody suspicious would come snooping around this battle. She didn't want to make a scene and she didn't fancy explaining to them with a lie of what was currently occurring. Snapped out of her distraction, should she keep spacing out, this spider would eat her for lunch. The creature plunged another arm into the water attempting to stab the Witcher as Buffy collapsed into the shallow waters and tossed aside the decapitated leg. Geralt burst to the surface, gripping his blade as he pointed it at the creature, breathing in the blessed air into his lungs as his airways felt like metal. Growling lowly under his breath in irritation to how much interference this creature was causing him. He needed his coin, otherwise he would never find food for Roach and himself, nor would be find a bed for the night. His body soaked by the water, rivulets of filthy liquid streaming from its body, trickling from his hair in beads, gritting his teeth and baring his fangs enraged. He pointed his blade at the creature, stabbing his sword into the soft part of its head, his gaze never faltering as he impacted the fatal blow. The creature releasing brief cries of anger before they silenced, killed by the sword impacted into its cranium, its heavy body collapsing into the swamps lake, sinking beneath the surface of the domain in which it once resided.
The man removed his blade, thick, viscous black blood poured from the creature's body, the scent of the demon's corpse filling the air and intruding his nasal passage. Though he was more than adapted to the scent of unpleasant odours, he never failed to find himself disgusted despite not showing it rather visibly. The man pulled back, his eyes black and empty, shining like a pearl yet darker than the night itself. His skin pale and his teeth gleaming white like fangs, any normal person who would gaze upon him would be frightened for their life. Yet he could smell no fear coming from this girl, no hatred, no hostility, an unusual reaction for a human to show around him in this state.
Buffy slowly raised herself onto her feet stabilising herself as she made sure the coast was clear, she'd learned over her brief period of being an active slayer, to lower your guard recklessly could cost you your life. She attempted to talk calming breaths to relax herself, the battle was over, now she just needed to get home. Giles would be eager for the report of how the battle had unfolded and what she had been able to learn. Her body was still trembling, her eyes focused on the man before her, she had never seen such black eyes, inhuman, frightening, as though he could see right into her soul. Vampires still retained human eyes, the same colour as their human form, however they became a demonic version of the soulless being that now owned their body. Demons had the eye colour of their birth, their species, but no creature she had previously faced had eyes like his. She stepped off of the creatures back into the waters with a loud splash, walking towards him and wiping her face briefly until she reached the shore. She acknowledged he was strong, equally as herself which wasn't an easy feat unless they were of demon heritage. But she wasn't in the mood to stand around and talk right now, she felt filthy and she needed a bath.
Geralt hummed quietly before walking out of the swampy waters himself before following after her in silence, he could sense she was in no mood to communicate with him which he respected. Usually people were curious of him and prodded him with their questions, yet she respected his boundaries and kept to herself, a rarity indeed. But something about her drew him in, called to him like a siren song, he felt a connection to her he had never felt around anyone before. Watching her intently, trying to focus on what was unusual about her, aside from her fighting skills. Who was this girl? She appeared to be normal in looks, blonde, average height and while wearing strange clothes, nothing else was out of the ordinary. Another sword for hire that was worth the coin paid for her, it wasn't unusual to have female bandits and thugs in this era, everyone needed to make coin to survive somehow. But there was an aura flowing from her that made his hair stand on end and his skin vibrate, his instincts telling him that something was off. Something that wasn't a demon nor was it human, something equally as powerful and dangerous. He would be a fool to disregard her abilities or shrug it off that she was merely skilled and well trained. She was a formidable opponent, though no female had ever passed the Witcher trial, she was on par to be considered as such.
A scent that was beyond his understanding, old and ancient, he'd met many beings with different aroma's, scents and pheromones over his centuries of life. But he had never encountered someone with a scent like hers. It wasn't Wiccan, it wasn't a mage, it wasn't elf and it wasn't whatever the hell he had just killed, it was one he would have to ask his brothers or a magic user about. However, it was a matter he could focus on later, once he was able to collect his bounty and cleanse himself. He walked through the waters to see the deer from earlier laid down, a large chunk was taken out of its side by the monster he had just beaten. The girl stood nearby, watching it with sympathy before grabbing a nearby cloak casually, her expression steely and hardened. Her hair was covered in mud, as were her clothes. Yet she didn't flinch, she didn't cry, she didn't complain, she didn't even sigh, she remained silent. He peered at the deer and then at the girl, observing their features curiously. They both appeared as frail as the other, delicate, harmless and innocent, but looks could be deceiving, she was no ordinary girl. He decided to test the waters and attempt a brief conversation with her, understand his bearings of whom he was currently encountering. He tilted his head curiously "Today's not your day is it" he chuckled, she didn't seem pleased to have her clothes ruined.
Buffy turned to him, raising her eyebrow suspiciously, an annoyed expression formed onto her face. She didn't know if he was attempting to badly flirt with her or mock her, knowing monsters it could be either one. She just hoped he got the message and understood she was in no mood to get into a second fight with a guy who felt cocky. "Rolling around in pungent sinking mud after a giant spider? Fun for all ages" she scoffed ironically, she'd need a bath after this one. She did enjoy the moments where she could put bath salts and some oils into hot water and just soak, it was one of the many brief pleasures she was able to enjoy in life. Yet she recalled she had been in bed earlier, wrapped in a thick blanket, sleeping soundly, attempting to recall how she found herself here. The man moved closer and closer to her, closing the space between them while she kept her gaze fixated upon him, prepared to engage in another battle if necessary. However, he walked past her without a second glance, Buffy turned to realise his interest lay elsewhere, in the wounded doe laid by her side.
Buffy bolted upwards in bed, her heart racing and her skin prickling, bile rising in her throat, relieved her body had woken her before the gory entertainment of that guys meal could be played out. She gripped her sheets tightly around herself for comfort, cold sweat running down her neck, closing her eyes as she relieved the memory all over again. She could still smell the swamps, she could still hear the bugs and the damp, her legs being sucked under the surface, sealing her in place. She could feel the filth on her skin and the silence, the isolation and the echo of sounds all around her. The monsters cries and the sounds of the water, small droplets and loud splashes. Those golden eyes piercing her, those feline orbs that watched her predatorily with a sense of curiosity and confusion. She could have sworn it felt so real, that she was there, as though she could reach out and touch him with a single reach. Every day her prophecies came closer to the truth, these dreams that plagued her every night, dragging her from sleep while the rest of the world remained asleep. One of the many plagues of being a slayer, witnessing battles before they happened or what could be a possible future, though she never knew if she was experiencing a vision that would occur to herself, or through the eyes of someone else. Whether it was an enemy or ally she would meet, or if it was the future of of a possible victim she had to prevent.
Who was that man? How did he know of her? What did he mean to her? No vision she ever witnessed was something to be ignored, it was never just a strange dream or a passing thought. All her dreams had meaning and she did well to listen to each one. She had looked into his eyes, seen into him, sensed his essence and his true identity, just as he had looked into her and seen her Slayer nature. She groaned heavily, she was thirsty, it was too early to be thinking this much, her temples aching. She ran a hand through her greasy blonde hair and sat up in bed, gazing around her small room. She needed food, she needed to think, she needed work, she needed to distract herself, knowing a break was hard to come across in her line of work. Hoping that Giles had procured something decent to eat, he always knew how to bribe the local bakers or merchants for something tasty. He was able to earn decent coin too, which helped as a side job. She began to climb out of bed, forcing herself to prepare for the day, wondering if she would ever meet that man again.
Geralt wandered into a tavern, his cloak pulled over his head attempting to conceal himself, he was more than used to attracting the gaze of the curious and the resentful. People either wanting to see into the life of the Witcher, to know his truths and secrets, others who despised his kind and wished to enact vengeance upon him simply attempt to teach him a lesson to keep out of their town. He didn't wish for an unwanted confrontation, he would rather gather the information he needed and perhaps fill his aching stomach. But concealing himself and radiating antisocial nature allowed him to avoided, so people got the message he was disinterested in the meagre petty conversation. He was aware people disliked him, he was aware of how different he was to the common folk, his mutations, his appearance and powers, they all isolated him from normal people. Though some showed kindness, mercy, empathy, they were rare moments for him, mostly he was met with hatred, ignorance and apathy. But right now he couldn't care less for the petty remarks of local drunks in a tavern, his mind was still plagued by the vision of that girl. Wondering if she was able to wield magic somehow, or if she was a creature that could take the form of a human. She hadn't cowered from him, she had held her guard and acted indifferent. He had been alone in that battle, he had faced the mission without assistance all for the sake of coin, yet he hadn't defeated that creature alone and he knew it, the severed limb of the creature remained intact.
Yet he had sensed her, he had smelt her, her presence still lingered once the battle was over, feeling as though she would jump out at him from nowhere and surprise him. The warmth of her skin, her voice, clear as day, all of it imprinted into his psyche, she had been no ordinary girl, one he had never come across before in all his centuries of life. His instinct pushing him to ask her further questions as to her identity and how she had come to wield such power, he had never seen an axe like the one she harboured, but she had disappeared like smoke before him, like a mirage, as though she never existed. It was possible though he hated to admit it, that it was merely a creation of something abnormal that affected his mind. Swamps were plagued with plants and creatures that emitted such potent mind altering abilities. Perhaps a spell or some hallucination caused by a poisonous plant? He would need to ask around about this girl, if anyone recognized her, or if perhaps she was merely a product of his imagination. As per usual, he would have to ask around and do homework about a new creature that remained elusive to him. Extending a new mission already despite having already completed one, he shook his head of the thought, Roach wouldn't appreciate the stress but he would treat her for it. He approached the bar, placing a piece of paper on the wooden table, his expression hardened and apathetic.
A cheerful barmaid approached him with a friendly smile "What will it be?" she questioned, he seemed awfully lonely and downhearted. Perhaps something strong would be able to ease this problem and make him feel better. She was happy to serve any customer come what may, so long as they didn't cause the establishment any trouble. She could sense something was bothering him, all people came to this place to ease the pain of previously forged wounds, be it physical or emotional. Some came to be merry and celebrate, others came to forget their problems with drink. He was no different than any other customer in the bar, so why shouldn't she serve him?
"Point me to the alderman's house" he responded bluntly, though the thought of ale was tempting, he was on another mission and couldn't afford to be distracted. He needed to be on his way and avoid lingering in this town, he had been shot enough unfriendly glances already. He didn't wish to incite an angry mob for his presence, he would rather just enjoy some brief pleasures before making his leave without any trouble. It made his life so much easier, less stress and less problems on his conscience. He could smell their rage bubbling beneath the surface like a primitive need, waiting like a wild beast to lash out and snap. If he poked them with a stick they would bear their teeth and bite at him without hesitation.
The girl began to give him directions before a bald ginger male approached slamming ale mugs onto the bar, "Isadora" he snapped, wishing for her to be silent. He glared at her coldly as a warning sign, something that stirred a sense of concern in Geralt but it was no business of his. The girl departed in a panic, sensing the agitation from the male, rushing into the kitchens to help with the first job she could find. He then turned to Geralt "We don't want your kind here Witcher" he snapped in a warning tone. He knew of their power, their problems and the lack of humanity within them, they were just brutish bounty hunters and nothing more.
Geralt remained undeterred, staring back at the man unfazed by his aggression "The alderman, give me directions and I'll be out of my way" he responded. He could see the rage dancing behind the mans eyes, daring him to make a wrong move, but he underestimated Geralt's intelligence. He thought of the girl from his dream, how she had stood her ground and was prepared to take him down too if he was a threat to her, like watching a wild cat on the prowl. Wondering if with all her strength how she handled men like these, being insulted and belittled for how she behaved, if she had even been real that is. "All I ask is for directions, I don't want a fight" he responded, but if one eventually unfolded he could handle himself. Begrudgingly, the man grabbed some paper before scribbling down some notes and shoving them towards the man. A look of disgust formed on his face. Geralt raised himself from his stool with the information he sought, aware of the dirty looks he was receiving.
The scent of tea filled the air, freshly baked bread and sweets, Buffy's stomach gurgled at the thought of food. Due to her Slayer agility and strength, she burned food faster than normal humans, she constantly had a hunger for food, workouts and battles always leaving her hungry. But today was different, her appetite altered while her mind was running a million miles a minute, thoughts whirling through her mind like a storm. She sat silently at the table, she couldn't think of eating though she needed sustenance, Giles would berate her if she didn't remain healthy and take care of herself. Though she teased him for being proper, posh and at times old fashioned, he meant the world to her. Despite only being activated a year ago into this life, she had learned to trust her instincts indefinitely, it was what kept her alive. She knew all too well that she had numerous enemies, known and unknown that would be after her life. She always had to be prepared for any battle could be her last, as shown by her past predecessors and their deaths. Giles was always disciplined into instructing her on her slayer responsibilities and any potential threats, while using his allies among the Watcher council of how to use it to their advantage.
During her adolescence, before her powers fully awoke and she honed in her skills, though she didn't behave like the average teenager, people tended to just think of her as quirky or odd. Living with a mask that kept her protected and under the radar for a long time, her abilities had been sloppy and she lived secretly, but it had been a semi happy life. But these always raised questions, led to interrogations and Buffy feeling trapped as she was forced to lie to hide her identity. Her parents only knowing she came back at late hours, she kept secrets, got strange wounds and got into trouble. Hearing only rumours about their daughter which had been previously unknown to them, only causing them further concern of what Buffy got up to when they weren't around. She felt guilty at having to lie to them repetitively, but she could never tell them the truth, for their own safety above all.
Upon her father learning she was a slayer, her identity her life, he disowned her, called her a freak, no longer cared for her as a child and abandoned her. Enraged that he knew all along that something had been wrong yet she denied it and lied to her own father. Blaming her for all their problems, before taking all of his belongings and moving to another city far away. Her mother had been heartbroken despite their marital troubles, refusing to eat or leave her room for weeks. She had loved her husband, they had been together since Buffy's age, but their marriage fell apart despite how much they tried to make it work. Though her mother took the news better than her father, something Buffy was immensely grateful for. There had been tension between the two for some time, coping with Hank abandoning them and then officially being divorced from one another. Many of the local townsfolk had gossiped and had left them a hot topic of conversation. Though the years following had been hard on the two, Joyce remained a loving mother towards Buffy. She raised Buffy on her own and tried to be accepting of her, helping her daughter face the world and grow as a person. Until the night her mother was murdered by a vampire and Buffy had killed it off, rage and shock fueling her to keep fighting until the bitter end. Her vengeance at losing the one person who loved and understood her unconditionally was now torn from her life permanently. But due to her inexperience and leaving her mother alone, she never predicted such a severe loss. Walking around like a ghost for some time, the villagers avoiding her further than they had before.
Giles, her watcher and now legal guardian had found her soon after, hearing of a Slayer awakening in a small village after an attack on some of the locals. However, when he asked around everyone spoke of her bitterly and insulted her. Yet some had been bribed to tell her where Giles could locate her and take her off their hands, holding back his tongue with every fibre of his being to not insult them. There he had found Buffy, dressed in rags, sitting by her stove with an overboiled kettle watching the fire die out, living alone in her home, unprotected, untrained and depressed. Though it took some time he coaxed her into joining him and finding a new home, moving on from her past and towards her future. He adopted Buffy, taught her of her slayer nature and took her in, making sure she was educated and harboured a strong moral compass. He fed her, clothed her, taught her, raised her, soon he was able to make Buffy smile again, her confidence restored and her optimism soon began to blossom. Though it had only been a year, she trusted Giles indefinitely, his word above all was law and she always asked him for a second opinion. He respected her secrets, gave her personal space, confronted her when necessary and helped her grow into a young woman. There was an unspoken bond and immense platonic affection between the two, he trusted her. He didn't look down on her like so many others did, he didn't treat her like a burden or a problem. She may have been the only living Slayer alive, but Giles made it tolerable, making her realise her potential and how special she truly was. Even if he could be stuffy, though he hated being teased about such matters.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Giles appeared placing plates of food in front of her along with a fresh pot of tea. Before eventually placing himself opposite her and flashing an expression of concern in her direction. "You seem rather conflicted Buffy, was your sleep restless or perhaps are you plagued by a different ailment?" he questioned. He had become rather adapted to predicting Buffy's moods and perceiving her emotions and actions. Though at times she could be a handful, he looked at her as the daughter he never had. He encouraged her to share her burdens with him for the betterment of her mental health and wellbeing.
Buffy shifted, sighing heavily as she ran a hand through her hair, her brain was still frazzled and she didn't know what to make of it. She had believed herself to be the only slayer or bounty hunter whom killed supernatural beings. It seemed she had been mistaken, there were others who were equally as skilled with weapons capable of killing the supernatural efficiently. "I had a dream Giles, this one was different" she muttered staring into her teacup absentmindedly. She had seen the sword fastened to his back, she had never seen anything like it, not even Slayers had such a weapon, forged purely for his use. He wore an armour no military soldier, royal guard or even regular thug wore. This was a new face she knew nothing about, which intrigued her.
Giles turned to her with a look of concern, he knew that Slayers were imbued with the power of prophetic dreams among other abilities. Giving her an insight of what was to come. Different was never a positive matter unfortunately for them, so proceed with caution was the general default of looking at her dreams. However, he hoped to use what she had seen and translate it through his books and investigating. "End of the world? A new enemy?" he asked, half-joking, knowing that it could be exactly that. He had deflected, defeated and prevented many destructive and dangerous situations thanks to Buffy's gift. But the consequence of how frustrating, frightening and unpredictable it could be for Buffy often put a strain on her, confusing but something she had learned to trust. Despite having been trained as a Watcher of the lineage, abilities, destiny and roles of said profession, there was still so much mystery behind Slayers.
Buffy shook her head, she knew how strange this would sound to Giles, especially due to her relationship with Angel. She had never been the most popular girl, but he was special even for a vampire. "A… a guy…" she muttered awkwardly, already sensing Giles judgemental gaze burning into her without the need to look upwards and confirm it. She knew he judged how recklessly she could behave at times, but this time her gut instinct wasn't altered by any romantic feelings, mere curiosity and confusion. Giles rolled his eyes, he wasn't indifferent to the fact Buffy was a teenager, she was of age to be reflecting on romance and relationships with boys. He knew Angel was special to her, the two of them sharing a unique bond both emotionally and spiritually, they were undoubtedly soulmates. But despite this, Buffy experienced other affections for people aside from Angel, experiencing the romances of youth. But she was a slayer, she had a duty and she couldn't afford to slack off, not even for boys.
Buffy saw his expression and groaned "Not like that Giles geez, I meant… I had a vision. I was patrolling, hunting in a swamp. There was this monster, but… there was someone already there. This guy had silver hair… pure silver and these golden eyes. He didn't look or act like any vampire I've ever met" she muttered. He didn't dress like a vampire, outdated and old fashioned, a product of their time. He didn't have the same aura and sense that a vampire usually emitted, aside from his warped eyes and pale complexion, nothing about him screamed blood sucker. He had a magical essence, but nothing like a witch or a mage, meaning he could wield some magics himself. But he wasn't a vampire hunter from what she could predict, he harboured immense powers like herself. He was something new, something dangerous, but what their relationship would prove to be in the future was still a mystery.
Giles expression changed to one more serious, sitting beside Buffy as he placed the food before her and poured some tea "I see, a demon perhaps?" he questioned. Demons were not always the monstrous looking creatures that she had faced before, some took humanoid shape through years of training or innately came with their power. Allowing them to blend into society, demon species were far more complicated than humans could understand, not even many mages had understanding of this.
"He didn't have that kind of vibe, but I know he could sense my power too. He had pure black eyes, but he acted human. I don't…. has there ever been something like a male Slayer?" she pestered. She knew rogue vampire hunters existed, she knew people could take potions and enhance their abilities, but few were truly born with their powers. But she sensed something akin to herself in him, something familiar, as if it was like looking into a mirror. It was the closest she would ever come to meeting another slayer. She still felt chills when she thought of looking into his eyes, empty, black and purely animal, nothing human about them, pure instinct. But she felt no fear, she didn't feel the need to run, she didn't feel the urge to kill him, not like when she was fighting monsters.
Giles hummed, rubbing the space between his eyes, this was indeed intriguing and his curiousity had been piqued. Though it would take time to gather all the information he needed, he would do his part to learn all he could. Hopefully he would have some books on the subject but sometimes outside advice was mandatory. "I… perhaps I can do some reading, ask around, surely it will bring something up" he reassured her. He then sipped his tea smiling at her from over the cup, he would need to converse with the Watcher council about this, hoping they would have some insight. At times their collection of historic and useful books were more immense than his own and crucial to solving missions they found themselves involved in.
Buffy smiled, trying not to laugh at her beloved mentor "What would I do without you Giles?" she joked. But she owed him a debt she doubted she would ever be able to repay. He had saved her from being an orphan and an outcast, helping her find her purpose and a new home. That meant more to her than he would ever understand, acting as the father she had been denied of nearly a year ago.
Geralt walked into the alderman's hideout, sensing the magic used to keep up the barrier and form his illusions was both fascinating and obnoxious. He was a wizard and a master illusionist, though he carried wisdom for his age, he was indeed a problematic pain in his arse. Perhaps he of all people would be able to tell him about the girl, he could gather what he needed from the wizard and be on his way. Though he doubted he would gather the information he required easily. As he passed through the gate he was with the visions of golden light, fresh flowers, fruit trees and delectably beautiful women wearing nothing but silks and their birthday suits. "So, a Witcher, what honour am I owed to this little visit to my abode?" Stregabor questioned, he couldn't have been welcomed into their town warmly, many people had heard of Witcher's and didn't look at them fondly. Often seeing them as freaks of nature, brutes for hire, monsters and thieves of their coin. Nobody could truly understand the power of a Witcher aside from one themselves.
Geralt hummed, Stregabor was a powerful wizard located in this region but largely disliked by many of the locals. He rarely showed his head around town and was simply a name whispered among others, often waiting for people to wander into his nest, though few were brave enough to do so. However, he offered need to those who sought it, no matter how dislikable he may be. He was willing to bribe and bargain to get what he needed, but he wouldn't be made a fool of, he could promise Stregabor that. He may have had a high position in Aretuza, but it meant little to him. Perhaps he may know of the girl he saw, he had enough books of history to know what he was talking about. Of any woman who harboured such power, he knew of rituals past and present, spells, charms and other incantations, he was highly respected for his craft after all. "I need information" he questioned. Stregabor raised an eyebrow suspiciously, usually, Witcher's were paid for the missions of others, never of those who sought a mission for self-gain, bound by honour. Geralt of Rivia in particular was labelled the white wolf, for despite his brothers he stood alone.
"During my last battle with an arachnomorph, I happened upon a girl, despite it being brief. She vanished before I could ask her of any information, but she was unlike any normal woman" Geralt explained. Her scent was different, though she had been fighting alongside him, her aura told him that she had created an astral form that travelled a vast distance to his location from wherever she resided. It took an immense amount of power and training to be able to wield such an ability. The weapon she wielded was unlike anything he had ever seen, dueled into a blade, a stake and an axe. It carried an essence that was ancient and carried a power much like her own. She had the potential to be both a powerful and useful ally, or a dangerous and to be cautioned enemy. He would rather be on her good side rather than her bad, for someone who had appeared so young, she was not to be underestimated. He had learned to follow common sense and his instinct after all these centuries.
"A mage perhaps, a witch? Women of magics aren't uncommon as you well know" Stregabor mocked. He was a regular visitor in Aretuza, he had met and engaged with many powerful mages in that realm. Many promising students whom had left those doors and helped society with their magics. Perhaps this girl had been a student and simply decided to escape before he became too curious, he would have to ask Taissa about her, in case she knew of the girl. Girls of many ages, backgrounds and magical inheritance had entered those walls and forged paths of their own, some good and some bad. It wouldn't be surprising if a Witcher crossed paths with one.
Geralt glared at the wizard but bit his tongue, Stregabor was playing games with him, he was teasing him. He knew a mage when he saw one, when he smelled one, she was no witch, he knew that. "She used no magic, she summoned no spells, she used mere wit and senses alone. But she had an aura, a scent, it wasn't Wiccan, nor elf, nothing mystical. But she was powerful, dangerous. It was as though she was bound to magics, within her body" he explained. The magic had affected her senses, her abilities were on par with his own, she harboured a psychic ability to get inside his head, which aside from the most accomplished mages, nobody else could do. If he was ever to cross paths with her again he wanted to know what he was getting himself into, what he needed to be prepared to face. If he fought that well against a monster, how would she fare against himself?
Stregabor hummed, he had heard of such women, though it was supposed to be a mere legend. There was a council outside Aretuza named the Watchers council, many from different nations whom carried centuries of information on each generation, past and present. They were a force older than Aretuza and to be reckoned with. "It's a tale older than even myself, before all of these lands, older than Witcher's. They are believed to be a myth, but for you to meet the one, you should feel blessed" Stregabor hummed. Their powers were said to increase based on their emotional state which made them even more deadly. Geralt raised an eyebrow in interest, he had been blessed with luck for Stregabor to know of this girl. Following his senses and going to the right places, but what was he about to learn? If he was to feel blessed for meeting such a girl, she had to have an interesting reputation. "Long ago, Shamans used a ceremony of human transmutation and summoning demons. Using a village girl as a conduit, they sealed the demon inside of her body. Combining demonic power inside a human vessel, stronger than any normal human being. As infamous as Witcher's" Stregabor explained. A young village girl was taken against her will, imbuing her with the heart, soul and spirit of a powerful demon. Upon her passing years later, another slayer was called, thus began to prodigy of the slayer lineage.
Geralt's eyes widened, Witcher's were infamously strong, capable of using magic themselves, but for a being to be as powerful as them, it was unheard of. But to use an innocent human girl as a sacrifice to such power was both intriguing and saddening, wondering what became of their lineage over time. They took an innocent girl and forced her to inherit a power beyond her understanding, thus a lineage of women was created with supernatural power they never asked for. "So she is the consequence of this magic" he explained solemnly. He couldn't help but pity her, they shared a common sense of loneliness, just like he was forced to become a Witcher, he could only suspect her position was the same. Forcing them to have an isolation from society, forever separated from normal people. He had no idea of how Slayers were summoned, nor how their line was called, all he knew was how she came to be.
Stregabour nodded "Indeed, I believe they are named Slayers, a female-only lineage older than time itself. Every Slayer is endowed with a Watcher by her side, upon her being activated. She protects humanity from all evils, supernatural, she is a lone wolf much like yourself Witcher" he explained. No male had ever taken on the mantle of a Slayer, due to the creation of her lineage. No slayer could ever be born from a previous slayer by genetic birth, it was a random choice chosen by fate. No girl had ever chosen to become the slayer, it was simply thrusted upon her shoulders. The duty of the watcher was to act as a mentor to the Slayer, to train her and guide her through her missions, acting as a guide. For every new Slayer called, the Watcher followed to help lead her along her path.
Geralt hummed but he was indeed impressed, for one girl to take on such responsibility while he had his brothers, he was never alone. He could only imagine the struggle she faced having to shoulder it all alone. It formed a strong sense of respect towards her, that despite being so young she had accepted her life rather well from what he had observed, but then again she most likely had no choice. He had seen the axe in her hand, her signature weapon, instead of a cross and stake, wondering if she had more on her person. Though it still raised more questions "Why only one, if it's a lineage surpassing generations, wouldn't it activate into multiple women?" he questioned. There had to be more than one slayer didn't there, if she was called, why only one at once? With all the dangers in the world wouldn't they need multiple slayers to protect humanity?
Stregabour laughed, truly the Witcher was naïve in this sense but so was he, the secrets of Slayers had been bound in secrecy for as long as Witcher's had. "Unfortunately I cannot answer that, I only know of her beginnings, her Watcher and her activation, I do not know how many currently exist, the name of the one you met and so on. There is much mystery surrounding them, you would have to find her watcher and ask him in person" Stregabour laughed. The Watcher council was a fortress, unless you had ties to them or was a member within it, everything to do with the Slayer was off limits completely. You remained an isolated outsider and unless you were close to the Slayer herself, she would remain elusive to you. Geralt sighed in defeat though he was curious of what a Watcher was and locating the Slayer he had crossed paths with. There was much he wished to discuss with her and perhaps learn about her enemies and battle strategy. Though he was a loner by nature, meeting someone as unique as a slayer was not an opportunity that arose often. He had many questions to ask of her and why she was able to fight monsters so efficiently, of her past and what powers she harboured. He could only hope they would bump into each other again, if fate was so blessed.
Giles removed his glasses sighing heavily, though he hadn't been able to find any books on a Witcher, after some convincing with locals he had managed to get information on the man Buffy encountered in her vision. She was certainly out of her depths with this one and prayed to every deity, god and prayer he could think of that this man she had encountered would remain an ally. He hadn't expected this, as surprised as he was, curiosity bloomed inside of him, he couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect of new knowledge and discoveries. Buffy was the only living Slayer, the next in line of the classic generation, should she fall, the next Slayer would be called and he would be responsible for her care. Training every new lineage of slayer that came into existence as to prepare her for her life against the forces of darkness and every form they came in. No slayer was ever prepared for what they would eventually face, it was a learning process. Witcher's were mutants, nothing like the power of the Slayer but indeed formidable beings, compared to Buffy's naivety to demonic creatures and learning how to combat and defeat them. Someone with Wiccan background, capable of wielding magics through years of extensive training, ruthless mental training, physical conditioning and mysterious rituals. Their power came at a great cost, Witcher's were often chosen during childhood, robbed of their adolescence to follow their fate, using alchemy and mutagenic potions to activate their transformation. They were built and trained to do the same thing Slayers were born to do. Buffy had indeed met her match and he was a strange one indeed, he would have never imagined a being capable of existing but clearly it was. Witcher's were hunters, if a hit was placed on Buffy by someone spiteful, this Witcher could kill her as it was what he was built for. He didn't know how he would tell her or what this would mean for Buffy, whether he was an enemy or a potential ally, they would need to be cautious. He felt sick at the future of what this may mean for Buffy, though he was grateful her precognition had allowed them insight. Otherwise they may have never seen him coming.
Buffy entered the room, a curious yet playful smile on her face "You've been cooped up all day Giles, won't your brain fry from overloading on books?" Buffy joked. She'd tried to deter herself from the vision she saw, at least trying to enjoy her life. Just clear her head and go for a walk, but she didn't see Giles letting it go anytime soon. She could see that all too familiar look in his eye, the panic of when a new danger formed and it was something she was clearly not prepared for. The twisting feeling in her gut when something was wrong, but she prayed she was mistaken and just imagining it, but when it came to Giles and bad news, he rarely sweetened the reality.
Giles gazed at Buffy intently, wearing a serious expression "You may need to sit down" he responded bluntly. She would be in for a shock, that much he could promise her. Buffy blinked but did as she was told, staring at Giles in concern, her eyes pleading with him for the truth. She didn't like being left in the dark about dangers she was going to face, she didn't like being manipulated and he knew that. Giles was never the type of person to overreact about something, he listened to his gut and knew his monsters. "This man you faced, it seems he's indeed no normal man, but he's no vampire or demon, he is indeed human in nature or… was" he muttered. This was far more complicated to explain than he predicted. He was centuries older than her, for the types of training he endured changed his metabolism and genetic code completely, beyond human. His senses would be on par with her own, almost animalistic.
Buffy raised her eyebrow, this didn't make any sense "Was…. But then how can't I slay him, I mean… is he a witch or something?" she joked. She'd never seen a Witch who used a sword, but then she learned something new every day. He was stumbling over his words, taking off his glasses, which in Giles coding meant the situation was indeed serious. She would rather he just express the truth instead of dancing around it and explaining it as though she was a child. She wasn't a genius level intellect as he was, she could formulate tactile plans and missions, she could think on her feet and followed her intuition. But Giles was book smart, demon smart, monster smart, he knew everything about their enemies.
"I asked around the village, though not many were willing to talk about him. It seems his kind has a reputation of being disliked immensely by locals in any nation. Mutants subjected to inhuman conditioning and experimentation since adolescence into killing machines" Giles explained. Everyone avoided the subject, asked him to talk to someone else or leave their establishment. Venting on how problematic they were, using insulting language and other such behaviours. It wasn't easy to coax words out of locals just what a Witcher was. Witcher's rarely stayed in one place for too long, many people turned them away of food, shelter and the likes purely fueled for their hatred of them. They had no home, they had no family etc, they were loners by nature.
Buffy's expression changed to utter shock and horror, she felt bile riling in her throat as she dug her nails into her folded arms. A wave of feelings hitting her all at once, speechless for words. She never knew such a being could exist, hell she didn't know that such experiments were even legal, that such a person could be created. Times like these were strange, "So… he's strong like…. Slayer strong" she stammered. She recalled he had taken on that monster and barely broken a sweat, he pinpointed his attacks with accuracy and aside from being pissed off, he hadn't really shown any exhaustion or strain whatsoever. She had sensed something about him that wasn't normal, similar to herself. Now she understood why, she had been able to sense his Witcher nature, his power.
Giles nodded "Indeed, I do hope you don't get on the wrong side of this one, as an ally he would prove to be a great asset, as an enemy someone you would rather not cross paths with" he pressed. It would be unavoidable that they would inevitably meet, given Buffy had predicted him in her dreams, they would run into him. But which village, which city, which town, they had no idea. But Buffy would be able to recognise him upon sight, that was what mattered here. They had time to prepare, the Council would know how to handle this better than himself, he didn't want Buffy risking her life unnecessarily. They were blind to whatever they would eventually face and preparing themselves was necessary, it prevented further harm from befalling someone.
"You don't have to tell me, I saw what he could do. Giles in that vision, he killed that spider, like he was working at the market, he didn't hesitate. He knew exactly what he was doing" Buffy responded. He showed no fear, no response, no emotion whatsoever, when they looked at each other, despite sharing no verbal speech they understood each other. They could sense the power of the other, they knew their identity. "Giles, when I saw this guy, met him. He knew about me being a Slayer, I mean… he didn't say it but he knew, he looked into me, like I was translucent. But… I could see him too before you told me he was a Witcher, I knew" she babbled. She had seen him watching her after the battle ended, observing her, like she was a caged animal. But she had been watching him the entire time too, trying to figure him out. She fiddled with her cross pendant, figuring out these thoughts, would this make them future teammates? Would the Council expect them to work together or something? She didn't sense malicious intent from him, he was simply doing the same thing she did, slaying, defeating an enemy.
"It is possible that your powers as a Slayer and his power as a Witcher, it allows you some form of bond. The ability to perceive the others abilities, a psychic link" Giles confessed. Though he hadn't heard anything of Witcher's having psychic gifts, Buffy's abilities may have forged one with him unintentionally. They were two unique beings unlike any other. But perhaps in this they may find a sense of comfort, the Slayer, the only one of her kind, A Witcher, a mutant, able to lick each others wounds.
"So he's…. he's like a male Slayer kinda…" Buffy scoffed, she never thought the term would ever be used. But it was the only way she could describe him. Like her he was destined to fight the big bad and get paid for it. He was every bit as powerful as she was, the same way a Slayer was forged through a ceremony so was his kind. There were many similarities between them that couldn't be denied. She could understand why Giles was so uneasy, this was a lot of information to take in, she did feel rather shaken up.
"Not to be too frank but yes…." Giles muttered, as always Buffy's sarcasm and irony had allowed her to form the meaning behind his words. Though he was used to her deflecting her problems through humour, he knew this was a lot for her to handle. She was used to being a loner, a unique being that stood alone, yet she had just learned that someone else may have similar power to herself. Even he was baffled at how the Council hadn't known about this sooner, the danger this could put Buffy in.
"Well… guess I'm not the only one around here with some ass-kicking power" Buffy joked, suddenly she felt the need for more breakfast. All this thinking was making her hungry, maybe Giles could find some soothing tea. She suddenly didn't want to talk about this anymore, even though it was something she couldn't avoid. But she had to admit she was curious to meet this Witcher in person. But just once she would like to receive some news that didn't involve something dangerous or bad.
"So, have you heard, it seems Geralt of Rivia may have a rival in terms of infamy, a little bird tells me of a new breed of a warrior called a Slayer" Calanthe hummed. Witcher's were of the strongest and most dedicated warriors you would come across, if you were to face one be prepared to face the battle of your life. Nobody human had ever bested a Witcher, only supernatural beings had that potential. She prided herself on her battle strategy and capability of ruling her country, especially since Pavetta's passing, she needed to pass her wisdom onto her granddaughter. She needed to know about the reality of the world and what she would face as she grew older. She respected Geralt for his honour, battle strategy and morality, he may have been a Witcher but he was a good man. He was bound to Ciri by destiny as a child surprise and fated to protect her. Yet she refused to hand over her granddaughter, for she was the last shard of Pavetta she had left. She was safer in her home, around the people whom could protect her. However, she had read books on a lineage of warrior women named Slayers, called upon to save the world from darkness and the creatures that lurked in them. They were said to be as old as time itself, from the stone age, though nobody knew what she had looked like, she was named the first. A race of warrior women, forged in a shaman spellbinding the soul of a demon into a human vessel, forging a powerful weapon. Those who had met a Witcher were common, but those who had met a Slayer and lived were even rarer. Slayers had short lives, often killed in battle while facing their foes, honourably, very rarely heard of outside of those who fought alongside them. Nobody knew the estimated summoning age of slayers, only that they never lived to old age. The spell used to create them was powerful, never attempted ever again after its occurrence, only that she could never be controlled. There was only ever one active, there was only ever one slayer through the centuries. But for the most recent to be living in their era and actively protecting her realm, it was fascinating, yet she respected and admired her dedication. She would love to meet this slayer sometime, introduce herself, introduce her to her court. Roegner hummed, he knew his wife had a curiosity in the Slayer, only due to her similarity to the Witcher kin. But he had to admit, he did feel concerned for such a young girl to be facing such harm. Even his wife had been shaken and troubled by her first battle until she became the hardened woman she was now.
Ciri hummed curiously, she had heard many a tale from her grandparents before, often telling her tales before bedtime so that she could dream peacefully through the night. Of all their stories of their youth, of how wonderful her mother was but more so of the young woman she would become. But never one about a slayer, leaving her curious as to why it amused her grandmother so much "What is a slayer Grandmother?" Ciri questioned. She beamed up at them with doe eyes, hoping she would get the answers she desired, her curiosity gnawing away at her.
Calanthe hummed, stroking her granddaughter's cheek affectionately "A Slayer Ciri is an honour-bound woman, she fights our supernatural enemy and protects humanity from the dangers they plague. She lives in the shadows, she has no home, no friends, no ties. She is an enigma, but she is a respected one" she explained. The Slayer had a code, she had battles to fight and a duty to the weak, she fought the monsters that threatened normal people. She harboured the strength that others didn't, wielding it for good. But she never forged any bonds, any allies, unable to forge a normal life for herself. But her sacrifice for the many earned her respect in Calanthe's eyes.
"I would very much like to meet her" Ciri sighed, her grandmother made her out to be a hero. She sounded like a powerful woman who fought with pride in her heart and a moral compass. She sounded like a wonderful person, to be so bold and brave, so full of strength and protecting her people, but it did sound like she may be a lonely person. She couldn't help but admire her, she hoped one day she would be lucky enough to meet a Slayer.
Calanthe's expression became pained, the life expectancy of a slayer was not a long one, many were lucky to live to the age of 30. Their sacrifice for the greater good, casting aside the normality's of life that most took for granted, a family, a home, marriage. It wouldn't be uncommon for Slayers to look at their power as a burden, but she wouldn't dare tell that to Ciri. "Maybe someday my love, hmm?" Calanthe promised fondly, Ciri smiled brightly, nodding at her grandmother eagerly. She had heard stories of the current Slayer, she had resided in a small village as an adolescent with her parents. Living a perfectly normal life, naïve to her future and what would become of her. The innocence of youth, unplagued by the horrors that one faced as they grew older. However, an attack had befallen her village for unknown reasons, killing her mother and leaving the slayer an orphan. Where she was currently located, who was protecting her, how she earned her coin, all of this was a current mystery. Though the positive aspects surrounded in fantasy about the slayer would seem appealing to the likes of Ciri, she would rather her granddaughter never know the truth of what became of a slayer. Compared to Witcher's who were mutants created through barbaric practices and training, Slayers were born into their role without a choice in the matter. But should she cross paths with a Slayer, she would undoubtedly be protected.
Geralt hummed, stroking roaches main affectionately as he prepared for a long and arduous journey to find the Slayer, hoping she would leave a cryptic message making it easier for her to be found. At least he knew what she looked like, so he wouldn't be left completely blind. He had no idea of what age she would be, though he had learned her calling age was usually around puberty. But then Slayers never got a choice at what point in their life they were called, it could happen at any time. How long she had been slaying, training or battling he had no idea, how much experience she had in facing monsters, it was a blind guess. However, from the girl he envisioned, it already answered his questions, she appeared around her mid-teens, still a youth. Centuries younger than him, meaning she hadn't been on this earth for very long, yet shouldered such responsibility. She had blonde hair bound back into a bun and piercing green eyes, though small in stature she was unbelievably strong. But he didn't know enough about the slayer only that she was a capable fighter and she saved his life. He owed her a debt of gratitude and he couldn't ignore her presence, not if they happened to keep connecting on a psychic level.
He would ask around of her current residence, if anyone had heard of her and then spend god knows how long looking for her. He knew this would be exhausting and stressful, Roach had her work cut out for her, but she would be rewarded. He had managed to bargain some food for the journey from a merchant and some oats and a few other tokens to feed roach. "It seems we have a journey ahead of us Roach" he soothed, she nuzzled her head against him affectionately, earning a fond hum. He had learned a great deal about this girl already, the more he discovered about her, the more confused he felt yet an admiration kept blossoming. Her lineage came from human alchemy and shamanism which forged a demon and a human soul into one being. Old magics which had never been repeated or lost to time, meaning any mage or wizard strong enough now living could never repeat it. There was no living being known to kill a slayer, only one of supernatural origin, they were durable beings and couldn't be killed easily. Following a chain of tradition that hadn't been broken, centuries of women called to fight and protect. There had been many before the one he had met, though they had never lived long lives, causing a sadness to form inside of him. Though the same could be said for his own kin, he had at least lived a long life. While hers were not so fortunate. Though he recalled his destiny of the girl in the woods, remembering Ciri of whom he was responsible for the care of after her mother perished and later her grandparents. But now he had a new path along the way, forging his destiny with a girl who shared his power, the only living being stronger than a Witcher. The only question was would she join him as his comrade? Or would she become his enemy?