Breaking Walls

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After the entire day being spent in the alchemy room, I am glad to step out of it. It's impressive how much time Vesemir and Geralt can pour into figuring out some venom.

Geralt and Vesemir are still finishing up with the monster bits once I arrive back to my room. I double-check the wound on my leg and am pleased to see that there's only a little bit of blood the cloth. I told the two Witchers I would go to my room to clean up myself before dinner, but now that I'm here, I'm not sure what to do. It's not like I have anything to clean myself with. 

I wipe my face with the back of my sleeve and can't decide if I made my sleeve or my face less dirty.

Huffing, I decide that there's nothing more for me to do here, so I make my way to the dining hall, hoping that Coen stubbed his toe and needs to sit this dinner out. 

The fates hate me, I confirm, when I open the door, and there he is. I can smell the ale they are drinking all the way over here. 

Eskel and Lambert sit at the same table as Coen, Eskel across while Lambert right next to Coen. Vesemir and Geralt are standing next to their table. It seems they are talking about something serious, since as soon as I walk in, the discussion abruptly ends. Once Coen spots me, his signature scowl is back on his face. 

"Whose turn was it today?" Geralt asks his Witcher friends once I arrive at their table.

Eskel laughs, "Lambert's, unfortunately."

"Hey! I cook perfectly fine!" Lambert defends himself.

"I feel bad for our stomachs already," Geralt humors as he moves towards the fire where the food is. I follow him soundlessly.

"Hush, Geralt," Vesemir scolds, and I see Lambert smile as he thinks Vesemir is defending him, "We need the bad to appreciate the good."

I can barely contain my smile. Who knew Vesemir could destroy a soul with just a couple of words?

Lambert's smile drops and he growls, "So unappreciative! I am never cooking again!"

I accept the bowl filled with food from Garelt's outstretched hand, although my stomach is still in knots, especially with last night's ordeal hanging over me. "Thanks."

He nods to the table where everyone else is by. "Sit."

I pick the seat farthest from Coen, and Geralt sits next to me. Vesemir takes the seat across from me. 

"And?" Eskel speaks up, "Any findings on the wyvern?"

Vesemir explains, "It's more complicated than we initially thought. There are more glands than we can count, producing the venom in the trident of its tail."

"Could you isolate a gland?"

After this, I zone out. I have had enough of monster talk to last me for an entire year. Believe me, I had no interests in finding out how when you touch a gland, it spurts venom all over the place. Luckily, they had a feeling that would happen based on previous experiences, so I was placed behind a table on its side, furthest away from the monster tail while they played around with it.

I swear the table I hid behind had holes in its wooden planks that it didn't have before once I was allowed to come out again. 

Classic Witchers, I shake my head in disbelief. Zero fear of death, I swear. 

"Ciri," Vesemir says, capturing my attention, "We have re-discussed about what happened yesterday and decided that it is best if we tell you about it."

I look over to Geralt, and he nods. This is his doing, I can tell. The other Witchers are observing me closely, planning to read me and see if I know of anything they are about to talk about.

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