HEART | Geralt

04

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~

The girl hadn't stopped talking, something that was going to drive Azalea almost insane if she had to listen to too many more words leave the girl's mouth. She found the young one to be interesting, innocent, but also annoying. She supposed most children were, but then again, the girl looked to be early to mid teen years.

"Have you ever killed a succubus?" The girl asked as Geralt and Azalea dragged their horses along behind them, guiding them to wherever the girl was guiding the Witchers. "A striga? Werewolf? She-wolf?"

"That's not a thing." Geralt spoke gruffly, eliciting a scoff from Azalea. The girl grinned a little and looked between the friends.

"Women can be werewolves." Azalea countered to her friend's statement, to which made Geralt frown and glare playfully at her. He was only wanting the girl to shut up, and Azalea was almost encouraging her to keep on talking.

"So, you've killed the rest?" Upon the young girl's question, Geralt and Azalea looked to her in unison. To anyone else, it would've been intimidating to have two Witchers stare upon you with their dead cold gazes. "I think that makes you heroes."

"Well, sweetheart," Azalea began as she petting her horse's neck softly, "not many people share the same views."

"My mother says you're the offsprings of foul sorcery," the girl told them, "a diabolic creation, a filthy degenerate born of Hell." Azalea found her jaw clenching, her mind flashing her with memories of the day she and her sister were split apart. An angered frown placed itself upon her face, her pace slightly picking up as the wind tousled her hair. Scarlett slit eyes glaring at anyone and everyone. "Have you ever been to Hell? I've never even left Blaviken. Because my mother's never left Blaviken, and if it's good enough for Libushe, then it's good enough for Marilka."

"Shut up." Azalea begged, but her voice was not heard over the sounds of the villagers talking. Geralt heard her, though, and he frowned at how pained her voice seemed to be.

"That's my name. Marilka." Marilka said with a small tight lipped smile. "Like milk. What's your names?"

"Geralt. And that's Azalea." 

"Like garroter? And like the flower?" Marilka asked, her gaze heading for the woman that was a mere few feet in front of them. "Nice. Where are you from, Geralt?"

"Rivia." The gruff voice said, something that made Azalea sigh inaudibly to even him. She found his tone often soothing, and yet today it was doing nothing to ease the irritation Marilka had caused.

"I don't know where that is, but i could learn, if you'd let me."

"No." He replied.

"Because i'm a girl and girls can't be witchers.Which i think is probably the stupidest thing i've ever heard. Apart from broody over there, and, i mean, what's that about?" Azalea's nose twitched with anger, hearing every word and syllable that left Marilka's mouth.

"Leave Azi out of it." Geralt practically snapped, his gaze now harsh as even he glared at the nosy girl. He glanced towards Azalea, who seemed to be breathing heavily as she tried to get her temper under control. She would not permit herself to attack a kid who knows no better.

She clenched her hands into fists instead, the appendages shaking with her anger, but she was beginning to let it simmer and fall away. With a long sigh, Azalea allowed her shoulders to drop.

~

"Here we are." The tower, even bleaker when in contrast the the clouded sky that loomed over Blaviken. It sent unsettling nerves rattling up through Azalea's spine, but the girl could oly shrug and do her best to shake it off.