Our Paths

Chapter 1: An Old Companion

The brunette tiredly stumbled out of the crowded tavern. It was clear they didn't appreciate a bard's fine voice. Not like it mattered, the village hated witchers, he should've known better to sing of the famed White Wolf. But what could he say, he was a sucker for the classic, as well as one of his best hits.

"Well, that was a load of bull," he grumbled under his breath. "Now what am I gonna do?"

Kicking the dirt as he walked along the beaten path, the bard decided it was time to leave this dreadful village. After all the people were insufferable, not even a joke could be made with the somber atmosphere. So he went on his way ignoring the glares of onlookers and ventured into the gloomy but far more welcoming forest. When the rain finally began, he knew he was screwed.

"Damnit, Jaskier. You just had to leave today, didn't you?" Sighing to himself he tried to remain optimistic. "Well, I better look for shelter, surely I can find a cave or something."

He wandered aimlessly away from the wet trail and into the misty forest. Evidently, the slick grass made it difficult for the clumsy bard to travel far without sliding around. By the time he finally found shelter he all but collapsed at the entrance. 

"On nice dry ground," he puffed sitting up patting off his lute. "Well, there isn't any dry wood out there, so no fire. Great, let's see if I can find somewhere to sleep out this blasted storm."

Jaskier strayed far from the mouth of the cave. Far enough in no one would spot him. It took quite a while before Jaskier found a comfortable resting position. Draping his outer coat on the ground and resting his lute off to the side. Listening to the stillness of the night, he barely noticed the eeriness of its silence as he drifted off.

He was rattled awake at a horse's whine, the sound of a silver sword slashing through flesh and the shrill thunder of a monstrous scream. Jaskier jumped to flee, quickly taking his lute in one hand and his coat into the other. He ran to the cave's mouth frozen as he watched the white-haired witcher battle a giant humanoid.

The creature towered over Geralt, antlers board and thick, a deer's skull for a head. Though it appeared lean, its claws were longer than fingers, sharper than almost any sword. Leaving behind scratches on the witcher's favored sword.

Suddenly it turned on its heels with a bellowing roar sending chills down the bravest of men's spine. Charging toward the cowering bard.

"Good lord!" He screamed dashing back having nowhere else to run.

"Damnit, Jaskier!!!" The witcher growled, rushing after the beast.

"Geralt! Hurry you witcher, get rid of it!" Jaskier shouted back, narrowly dodging the swipe of the monster's claws.

Geralt on its heels plunged his sword in the backside, growling darkly as his yellow eyes turned pitch black. Jaskier took the brief moments of the monster's agony as a chance to escape, bolting out past Geralt.

Howling out the creature latched onto the silver weapon shoving Geralt to the ground and sprinting back into the wooded forest. Scoffing, Geralt dusted himself off, getting back on his feet. He staggered momentarily, shaking it off swiftly.

"What are you doing here, Jaskier," he groaned stomping toward Roach.

"Funny you should ask, I was just about to say the same, Mr. Witcher," Jaskier replied, tugging on his coat. "I gotta say, I was not expecting to run into any monsters this early in the day. Has the sun even risen yet?"

"Barely."

"Crazy way to start the day, huh Geralt?"

"No, it isn't," Geralt grumbled.

"You seem talkative today? Something on your mind?"

"Hmm."

"If you're sorry about the last time we were together, you should say so. Baring the guilt makes the conscious heavy, Geralt."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"You should be angry."

"Yeah, you're absolutely right. I should be pissed!" Jaskier dramatized throwing out his arms. "I should take this lute and smash it against that thick skull of yours!"

"I deserve it."

"Oh, I know. Trust me, I know. But that wouldn't do us any good," Jaskier sighed.

"What?"

"You heard me. I can do that all I want when we're outta this blasted place. I'm not staying around for that thing to attack us, again."

"Hmm."

"So what was it?" curiosity flared for Jaskier, now knowing he was out of harm's way.

"Spirit."

"A spirit? Really I thought spirits were like you know ghosts?"

"No."

"So what are ghosts then? I'm pretty sure-"

"It's a woodland spirit, a leshen."

"Um, okay," Jaskier sighed, "Where to next? Cause I'm not going back down that path. Mean bunch I tell you. No sense of humor, even less taste in music. Oh and they hate witchers, truly. I have to say they take the cake with that. You'd definitely be chased off, pitchforks and all."

"Hmm."

"Yes, hmm. Back to your old self, I see. Well, from the looks of it I'd say you just came from that way and judging from those empty sacks and dirty look  they didn't like you either. So we'll have to find another route out of here, unless that thing was your job. If that's the case maybe we could head back that way. I'm sure with a tune or two we can have those lovely bags jiggling with coins! And all I ask in return, safe passage out of this godforsaken place."

"Hmm."

"Great, then which way are we heading? Back your way or off into the woods with that spirity pal."

"Woodland spirit has my sword."

"Oh lovely, hopefully, if we ask nicely he'll give it back." Jaskier mocked.

"I'll kill it."

"Yes, yes, I know. How long will this take? Shouldn't Roach and I just stay back and wait for you to return? You know, stay out of your way and stuff."

"No, it will go after you if I'm not here."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Ugh, fine then let's get this over with."

The awkward silence that followed would last long into their adventure. Geralt followed the heavy tracks of the injured spirit. Jaskier trailed behind as Roach was led along by Geralt, even she was unwilling to make any sound. Trotting along they stopped very briefly at Jaskier's complaints but soon enough back to following the trail.