If you want to read ahead by 15+ chapters from her you can visit my Patre-on.
[P] [A] [T] [R] [E] [O] [N]
https://www.patreon.com/Yggdrasil_Loki
-----------
Now that he looked at it more closely, his witcher senses tingling, it looked almost… almost like the cleverly concealed start of a cave.
Geralt frowned, his hand resting on the hilt of his silver sword, and walked forwards slowly, cautiously, until he was standing right near the seemingly solid rock wall. His wolf medallion hummed even louder now, vibrating insistently as he approached the wall.
"An illusion?" he asked himself, his voice a low murmur.
He reached out a gloved hand and touched the cold, smooth surface of the rock wall… only to see his hand sink right through it, as if it wasn't even there, as if it were made of mist.
Geralt pushed forward, stepping through the illusory wall, as he confirmed his suspicion.
As he pushed his way into the hidden space beyond the illusion, the one thing that Geralt definitely didn't expect to see was… the most coziest, most unexpectedly domestic-looking cave he had ever seen in his entire, long life.
The hidden cave had a comfortable, almost palpable warm feeling to it. Soft, magical torches were placed all around its surprisingly spacious interior, casting a gentle, flickering glow.
There was a nice, crackling fireplace in the middle of the main chamber, with several expensive-looking, plush armchairs surrounding it.
On one side of the cave, there was a large, open, empty space, where nothing had been done with the natural rock.
Off to the other side, however, there were quite a few tall, well-stocked bookshelves, what looked like complex alchemical and laboratory equipment though not like any he had ever seen before, it looked far more advanced as well as a massive, inviting-looking king-sized bed.
And in that king-sized bed, there appeared to be a man. A man sleeping quite comfortably, if his light, rhythmic snores were any indication.
Geralt walked quietly up to the sleeping man and leaned down for a closer look.
The man appeared to be quite young, probably in his early twenties, with hair as black as a raven's wing, and a thin, faded scar, shaped like a lightning bolt, just above one of his closed eyebrows.
He reached over and gently, but firmly, shook the man awake. He wanted some answers, and he wanted them now.
The man opened his eyes groggily, blinking a few times, and then stared up at Geralt with a look of pure, sleepy confusion. "Ummm… Can I… Can I help you with something?" the young man asked, his voice thick with sleep.
Geralt just raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow. Not quite the startled, or perhaps fearful, response he had been expecting from the man.
"Are you the one who has… decorated this cave?" Geralt asked first, his voice a low rumble.
The young man smiled at that, a surprisingly friendly, open smile. "That I am," he said, his voice still a little hoarse. "Why? Do you like it?" The man asked, his tone now semi-excited, almost boyish.
Geralt just looked at the man, his expression unchanging. It was quite possible, he considered, that this young fellow wasn't entirely… all there, mentally. Geralt looked around the surprisingly well-appointed cave again, then back at the man.
"Seems… cozy," he said drily.
The man nodded enthusiastically as he sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. Geralt noted that he was wearing a simple, clean-looking shirt and trousers, not typical sleeping attire. A little strange, as most people he knew slept either in their undergarments or in nothing at all.
"I thought so too," the man said cheerfully. "That's sort of the vibe I was going for, you know? Wasn't really planning on having any guests, especially not so soon after waking up, but I guess it's not really a problem. What's your name, stranger?" the young man asked, looking at Geralt with open, unabashed curiosity.
"Geralt of Rivia," he told the strange, surprisingly amiable young man. He didn't miss the very slight, almost imperceptible twitch that had appeared for a fraction of a second on the man's face as he gave his name. Interesting.
"I see," the young man said, his cheerful demeanor dimming slightly, replaced by a more thoughtful, almost contemplative expression. "The date… the date must be closing in then, mustn't it? I guess I should probably start making some preparations." He looked up at Geralt, his green eyes suddenly sharp and focused.
"Tell me, Geralt of Rivia… What year is it, exactly?" the man asked, as he started moving about the cave, quickly and efficiently throwing on some more practical, outdoor clothes.
"It's the year 1251," Geralt stated, his yellow eyes fixed on the young man who was now rummaging through a pile of papers on a cluttered workbench. "And I have a few questions for you, if you don't mind." He remembered why he was here, the contract, the supposed dragon.
"Shoot," the man, Harry, said absently, still focused on his papers, not even looking up.
"Shoot… what?" Geralt asked, a flicker of confusion crossing his usually stoic features. The man just shook his head, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips.
"Nothing. Just an old saying. Ask your questions, witcher," Harry told him, his voice still a little distracted.
"Who are you, and what exactly are you doing in this cave?" Geralt asked first, getting straight to the point.
"Name's Harry," the now identified Harry said simply, still not looking up. "And I live here."
"You live in this cave?" Geralt asked, his skepticism evident in his tone. It was a surprisingly comfortable cave, yes, but still a cave.
"That's what I said, isn't it?" Harry confirmed, his attention still seemingly absorbed by the papers he was rifling through.
"Why?" Geralt asked, his patience wearing thin.
"The privacy, for the most part," Harry said with a sigh, finally looking up for a moment. "I usually have to change caves every few years, you know. People tend to find my current abode, sooner or later, and then they start bothering me with all sorts of nonsense. It's rather unfortunate, actually, as I just moved in here. Quite like the view."
"Hmm," Geralt grunted, not particularly interested in the man's nomadic living arrangements. "I don't suppose you've seen a dragon around since you've moved in here, have you? A big, black one, perhaps?"
"A dragon?" Harry asked, his head snapping up, his green eyes suddenly sharp and focused on Geralt. "A big, black one, you say?"
Geralt's own eyes narrowed. That was exactly how the farmer had described it. He nodded slowly.
"Nah," Harry said, his expression suddenly, surprisingly, nonchalant again. "Never seen it before in my life."
Geralt looked at him, a flash of surprise, then suspicion, in his eyes. "You haven't seen it… but you just described it perfectly," Geralt accused, his voice low and dangerous.
"I just said 'big' and 'black'," Harry pointed out, a small, amused laugh escaping his lips. "That could be all sorts of things, couldn't it? I can think of plenty of other things, right off the top of my head, that are also big and black."
-----------
If you want to read ahead by 15+ chapters from her you can visit my Patre-on.
[P] [A] [T] [R] [E] [O] [N]
https://www.patreon.com/Yggdrasil_Loki