Kalira ⤱ The Witcher

[four]

Kalira and Geralt cautiously approached the door, a low resonating hum coming from the handle when Geralt tried to grab it. With a sigh, they walked through the enchanted door. Blinded by the sudden sunlight for a moment, Kalira lowered her hand from her face only to see a garden in front of them, naked women walking around with baskets full of fruits and flowers. Some of the women were just lazing around the bright garden as birds chirped in the background.

Kalira looked at Geralt in surprise to see he was somehow cleaned up, his cloak gone with his sword on his back as his eyes flickered down to her body. She looked down and realized the same thing had happened to her but instead of her usual leather pants or dress, she was wearing a not so modest, almost sheer, black dress.

"Wonderful." She smacked her lips in annoyance and rolled her eyes, not really caring her breasts could be seen but the fact that some mage did it to her without her consent.

"Greetings." A man, thankfully fully clothed, announced his arrival as he walked towards them down the corridor. "I'm Stregobor. Master Stregobor." He added when he received no reaction from them whatsoever. "Sorcerer."

"I have a kikimora for Master Irion." Geralt replied dryly as the man smiled at them.

"He sent a word saying he had a job for me." Kalira added, narrowing her eyes at him as Stregobor's eyes raked down her body, his jaw nearly dropping at her fierce beauty.

"Yes, well, forgive the confusion." Stregobor cleared his throat and forced a smile on his face when Geralt took a step in front of Kalira. "Irion created this tower but he's been dead 200 years. So, in order to honor him, I've taken his name as my personal sobriquet."

"Hmm." Geralt cocked his head, shooting a look at the garden. "He create this illusion, too?"

"No, this is, uh... This is..." Stregobor slightly stammered, his eyes once again flittering over to the female Witcher he had heard so much about. The rumors about her beauty were truer than he had anticipated; her pale skin like porcelain with dark hair contrasting against it and eyes amber, almost like honey. She stood tall, her body radiating confidence. "My own creation. Helps pass time more delightfully."

"Well." Kalira scoffed, crossing her arms which pushed her full breasts up and she shot him a dangerous look, daring him to look at them. "Aren't you disgusting?"

"And you're in hiding." Geralt stated, not amused to be tricked into coming there.

"How very clever of you, Witcher." Stregobor replied and motioned for them to follow him. "Not often do we see your likeness here in Blaviken."

"Not many of our likeness left." Geralt replied, recalling how humans turned against them, wanting to erase them out of existence.

"Hm. I'd offer you my condolences..." He replied with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But I seem to remember that Witchers don't feel anything." Kalira scoffed at the false image of them in the public eye. She wanted to tell him exactly what she was feeling at that moment but bit her tongue. "I'm grateful destiny brought you to me."

"Marilka brought me to you." Geralt stopped walking, correcting the man as neither of them believed in such things as destiny.

"And you sent word for me." Kalira interjected, glaring harder than before. "Not the other way around, old man."

"Oh, Marilka." Stregobor chuckled at the girl's name. "Marilka works for me. Now and then. On matters of great import."

"A reclusive sorcerer who uses an alias and hires a young girl to procure him a Witcher." Geralt spoke, the gears in his mind turning. "Sends word for another Witcher." His eyes flashed over to Kalira then at Stregobor. "You don't want my monster."

"You want us to kill yours." Kalira finished his statement, intrigued as to what the monster was if the man was willing to go through such deals to bring two Witchers to him.

"Very clever." Stregobor looked at them with apprehension and nodded. "Indeed."

"What kind?" Geralt asked, intrigued just as Kalira.

"The worst kind." Stregobor replied, shaking his head. "The human kind. Its name is Renfri."