Chapter 55

HELLO NIGHTCI… Oops, I mean, hello dear reader!

A quick note: The events and dates won't be exactly the same as in the books and games because (guess what?) this is a fanfiction. So, it's perfectly normal if you notice some inconsistencies.

Also, a little poll for those interested:

What do you think about the trailer and the fact that we'll be playing as Ciri in The Witcher 4?

AMAZING

Cool

Meh

Not a fan

Enjoy your reading! 😊

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I spun around sharply toward the voice, my hand still resting on the hilt of my sword, ready to draw it at the slightest sign of danger. The air was thick with tension after the vampire attack, the city was on high alert. Guards patrolled in large numbers, and a few frightened townspeople cast nervous glances in our direction.

I found myself facing a man who appeared mature, yet carried an air of elegance. His face, slightly marked by time, retained a certain nobility. His pale skin bore faint wrinkles, and his deep brown eyes occasionally flickered with an almost supernatural glint. He was balding on top, with short, dark gray hair neatly framing his temples.

"Who are you?" I asked in a hostile tone, keeping my distance. There was nothing ordinary about this person, and it was best to stay on guard.

Seeing my defensive stance, the man let out a soft chuckle before offering a slight bow, like a perfect gentleman.

"Forgive me. My name is Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy… but my friends call me Regis."

He gestured discreetly toward the medallion hanging from my neck.

"If you don't mind, I'll repeat my question are you related to Geralt of Rivia? The White Wolf, as most people know him."

I didn't lower my guard entirely, but I slowly removed my hand from my sword. I studied the man's expression for a moment. His features remained calm almost too calm. However, we were in the middle of the city, and with patrols everywhere, a fight would be unwise.

"Before I answer," I said, still wary, "I'd like to know whether you're addressing me as a friend… or with other intentions."

Regis shook his head, a faint smile on his lips.

"So much caution… but it's understandable. Rest assured, I come as a friend. One might even say—a close friend of Geralt's."

I took a few seconds to assess him. After the bloody attack that had just taken place, I wasn't eager to trigger another fight, especially if this newcomer was as dangerous as I suspected. Eventually, I relaxed my stance.

"Aiden," I said, offering my hand. "Witcher of the School of the Wolf. Geralt is, in a way, my adoptive father."

Regis looked intrigued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He accepted my handshake with a certain elegance.

"An adoptive son… Now that is fascinating. I believe Geralt may have mentioned you before."

I crossed my arms, my tone more relaxed.

"Oh yeah? And what exactly did he say?"

Regis let out a quiet chuckle.

"Unfortunately, Aiden, I must respect his confidence. Even though you're his adoptive son, I have no intention of betraying the secrets of an old friend… least of all those of a witcher as renowned as Geralt."

He paused, then gestured toward the severed arm still dangling from my belt the one the vampire had left behind during its escape.

"But back to the reason for my visit I believe I can help you analyze that. I have a personal matter with this group of vampires as well, and it seems we could benefit from joining forces."

His gaze lingered on the bloodied limb for a moment, a flicker of determination crossing his eyes. However, he didn't give me time to ask more questions.

"Come, let's have a drink. My treat. The guards are everywhere, and we can talk more freely away from all this commotion."

He gestured invitingly. After a brief hesitation, I accepted his offer. The name Regis wasn't unfamiliar to Geralt, and if this man was truly his friend, it was likely better to follow him than to make him an enemy.

As we walked away from the scene of the fight, I noticed the lingering gazes of a few townspeople worried, uneasy, but unwilling to approach.

The vampire attack had left the city in fear. But something about Regis's presence brought me an unexpected sense of calm.

---

Arriving in front of the tavern gave me a slight shock the mingling scents of sweat, alcohol, and simmering food blended with the smoke from several torches, creating an atmosphere that was both warm and stifling. Despite the general hubbub, I noticed the nervousness of some patrons; the city was still reeling from the recent attack. Following Regis to a table set slightly apart, I took a seat on a bench across from him.

A cheerful waitress approached almost immediately to take our order.

"Good day, gentlemen! What can I get you?" she asked in an upbeat tone.

Regis gave her a courteous nod. "My friend here will have a Castel Ravello mead. As for me…" He offered a brief smile. "I'd like raw meat, please. With an empty glass on the side."

The waitress hesitated for a moment.

"Raw… meat? Are you sure, sir?"

"Indeed," Regis replied, his expression calm.

The young woman stared at him, half-perplexed, half-disgusted, before turning on her heels toward the kitchen.

I took advantage of the brief pause to observe the tavern's interior some patrons were talking loudly over frothy beers, while others played dice or cards. In a darker corner, hushed laughter mixed with the clinking of utensils.

"Can we start talking about my problem now?" I asked Regis, eager to learn more.

"Not yet, witcher," he replied with a smile. "Let's enjoy our meeting first. Tell me a bit about your travels. I know you and Geralt have had a bit of a falling out, but he didn't want to tell me more."

I shook my head."There's not much to say. I live the usual life of a witcher taking contracts, sleeping under the stars or under a roof when I can find one, all while trying not to get too involved in politics because of our neutrality."

Regis nodded, looking intrigued."And what's your personal opinion on this famed neutrality? Geralt is a man of action he speaks little so I'd love a fresh perspective on the matter."

I scratched the back of my neck absentmindedly."Honestly? I don't really know. On one hand, I get why Vesemir and Geralt taught us this rule witchers are already not well-liked. If we got involved in wars and political intrigues, it would only bring us bigger trouble. On the other hand, our discretion also fuels people's fear and mistrust of us. And if one day an entire kingdom decided to hunt us down… no matter how strong we are, we wouldn't last long against an army."

At that moment, the waitress returned, setting a tankard down in front of me and, in front of Regis, a piece of raw, still-bloody meat accompanied by an empty glass. She couldn't help but cast one last curious glance at the unusual meal before walking away.

I took a sip of my drink, watching Regis as he slowly pressed the meat to drain its blood into his glass. He set the meat aside and drank the liquid, indifferent to the few patrons watching him from the corner of their eyes. I froze.

"Are you a higher vampire?" I murmured, unable to hide my surprise.

Regis paused his drinking, a serene smile playing on his lips."Indeed. And if you're wondering whether I belong to the group that attacked earlier… the answer is no. I'm here to stop them, not to slaughter innocents."

I was about to bombard him with questions, but Regis surprised me by steering the conversation in an entirely different direction.

"Forgive me if this seems strange. Geralt has shared some of his… romantic adventures with me. As his adoptive son, have you ever experienced love?"

His question caught me off guard. I tensed slightly, thinking about the complicated relationships I've had or still have. My history with Sylvanna still leaves me with unanswered questions, but it's not just her. There's also Ciri, and yet… things have grown ambiguous over time, and I miss her terribly. Then there's Yennefer, a woman as intriguing as she is mysterious, with whom I've discovered an unexpected connection. But I hadn't planned on discussing any of that with a vampire I'd only met an hour ago.

"Why would I talk to you about that?" I asked, a little defensive.

Regis swirled his glass, amused."Because I won't judge. I've long outgrown the age of blushing over matters of the heart. I can be a discreet and experienced ear, should you feel the need to confide."

I lowered my gaze to my tankard. After a brief silence, I chose my words carefully."It's complicated… To put it simply, there are three women who matter a great deal to me. Each in a different way. Sylvanna, for instance… I don't know where she's gone, and she's consumed by dangerous ambitions. Ciri she's like a sister to me, yet unexpected feelings have emerged, and I miss her. And Yennefer… she has a long history with Geralt, but he's been gone for a long time. Still, there are things you can't control, and I… let's just say I don't know where any of this will lead."

I stopped, suddenly feeling like I'd said too much. Regis nodded, and though a flicker of surprise crossed his face, he refrained from making any inappropriate remarks.

"Everyone has their own story, Aiden. And love, or affection, doesn't always follow the laws of reason. But if you ever wish to speak about it openly, I'm here."

I simply nodded, torn between embarrassment and a vague sense of relief.

"Let's focus on the danger ahead," Regis said, shifting the conversation. "The group I mentioned earlier has four leaders Crimea, Noctéclat, Sanguivor, and Carmillune. They seek to restore the power of a formidable master, and I'd wager they plan to take advantage of the festival. I assume you've already tried convincing the duchess to cancel it?"

I let out a brief sigh."She refuses, for political and financial reasons. She believes it was an isolated incident and that the guards will be enough to protect the city. But we only have two days before the event."

Regis nodded, his expression grave."This group has allies among the duchess's nobility. You won't be heard if you present your warnings alone. We'll need proof or we'll have to act on our own."

I nodded, thoughtful. Perhaps Damien, the guard captain, would trust me more now that we had already fought these creatures together.

"Then tell me more about this group," I said, taking another sip of mead.

"For starters, the vampire whose arm you severed is named Crimea, as I mentioned. The other three each have their own… peculiarities. Originally, they wanted to be five but I refused to join them."

I raised an eyebrow slightly."You could have been part of their group?"

Regis nodded, his features hardening slightly."Let's just say that after saving Geralt, I was near death myself. A higher vampire can regenerate almost indefinitely, but it takes time… and sometimes, the help of another. The one who brought me back was named Dettlaff van der Eretein. Now, he calls himself Sanguivor. He joined their cause, but I turned my back on these abominations. He remains my friend, and I wish to save him… or stop him before he does something far worse."

I absorbed these revelations in silence, realizing how much more complicated this situation had become."And now? We only have two days before the festival."

Regis took another sip before placing his glass down gently."There are several leads a cave near a village where people have been disappearing, a count named Albert who's ordering enormous shipments of livestock… And then, there's an ancient ritual I could attempt with the arm you took from Crimea. If she and Dettlaff serve the same master, it might allow me to establish a link to locate them."

I let out a deep breath."Two days to investigate all that and stop whatever they're planning… This is going to be tight."

Regis let out a small chuckle before his expression turned serious."We'll do our best. Let's rest a bit, then begin our investigations."

And so, I prepared myself for the challenges ahead, knowing that time was against us.

[Play the song Toss a Coin to Your Witcher, composed by Sonya Belousova and Giona Ostinelli, with lyrics written by Jenny Klein and performed by actor Joey Batey.]

{Slightly revised to focus more on Geralt}

At that moment, a small group of bards approached, lutes and tambourines in hand. Without a word, they began playing a familiar tune, and soon, their voices rose in song:

Toss a Coin to Geralt, the Witcher

Oh White Wolf, a lone wanderer bold,

On battle-worn roads, through wars untold.

Silver gleams at the edge of his blade,

A monster falls, the evil is swayed.

Toss a coin to Geralt, oh valiant Witcher

Steel and magic against the specter.

Toss a coin to Geralt, oh noble stray,

Let his legend forever stay!

He stalks the night, hunts through the gloom,

Beast or man, he knows their doom.

Amidst the chaos, lost and grim,

He stands alone, the choice is him.

But who will sing of all his pain?

Of love once lost, of wars in vain?

Time will fade, and heroes too,

Only the songs will carry through.

Toss a coin to Geralt, oh wolf betrayed,

Let every tavern sing his name...

For a moment, I let go of the looming threat hanging over Beauclair, allowing myself to be carried away by the melody. Behind me, Regis finished his drink, his expression thoughtful.

Tomorrow, we would begin our hunt for answers. Time was against us, and the stakes were high.

But for just a few minutes longer, I let myself be lulled by the echoes of Geralt's legend.