For the Whumptober prompt 3 "Set up for failure"/"I warned you" and the Angstober prompt 4 "Blood"
Not thinking twice, Geralt runs off toward the source of the sound. The voice was too far away to be a hundred percent certain, but what are the odds that somebody else beside Jaskier is wandering around these woods? They have not met a single soul all day. Judging from the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves from behind, Cahir is following on his heels. Well, a second blade might be helpful if Jaskier is in danger, and - whether he likes him or not - Cahir is an excellent swordfighter, for a human.
The sound of the voice is growing louder.
"Help! Geralt, where are you? Help me!"
Jaskier's voice!
"Stay where you are! I'm coming!" Geralt shouts and runs faster than ever before. Hopefully, Jaskier is just lost and not injured in any way, or poisoned, or worse.
However, the bard does not answer, which is a bit weird. Even weirder is that his voice grows fainter again. Is he moving away from them? But why? Has he not heard his best friend shout? Is something wrong with his ears? Or with his head?
"Jaskier, what the fuck?" Geralt yells even louder. "Don't move, you moron! I'll come and get you!" Still, no answer. And no matter how fast the Witcher runs, he does not seem to get any closer.
"Wait, Geralt," Cahir pants from behind. "What if it isn't the bard? What if it's a trap?"
"Don't you think I know my best friend's voice, Nilfgaardian?" Geralt snaps, slowing down for a moment. "I've known him for more than fucking twenty years! And it's not like Jaskier has been sparing with words."
"I agree, it sounds like him," Cahir concedes. "But there are creatures that mimic people, aren't there? Dopplers, for example."
"Dopplers are nicer than most humans are. Why would one want to impersonate Jaskier of all people? It doesn't make sense."
"Not all Dopplers are nice," Cahir objects. "I know it from experience."
"Right. Like the Doppler you set on Ciri to lure her out of Brokilon," Geralt says bitingly, glowering at the Nilfgaardian. "She told me all about it."
Cahir does not answer. With Geralt hating his guts already as it is - at least most of the time -, bringing up the evil Doppler was probably not a good idea. But something does not feel right about this. And there are other creatures that can impersonate or create an illusion of somebody, not just Dopplers, aren't there? Like Leshens or powerful mages, right?
Yet, the Witcher barrels on through the woods at a speed that is impossible for a human to keep up with for much longer. Soon, Cahir falls behind and even has to stop for a few minutes to catch his breath.
When he has recovered enough to hasten on, the Witcher is gone. Fuck!
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Fuck! Geralt dashes into the clearing, his heart beating wildly, but not from running, no. From fear. For in the high grass in the middle of the clearing lies Jaskier, prone and bleeding profusely from a gash in his head. His brown, longish hair is matted with blood, and the air is heavy with the tang of iron. The bard is not moving, and despite his highly enhanced auditory sense, Geralt cannot hear a heartbeat. Not a single one. But Jaskier must not be dead. It simply is not allowed to happen. Over his dead body!
When Geralt has almost reached his friend, suddenly, the ground opens beneath his feet. He falls so fast, he cannot even cry out or swear. Then, everything goes dark.