Unexpected is not inaccurate. It goes for most of them, in truth. To have nearly everyone walk away intact is nothing short of a miracle—or some interference through the Singularity. The so-called Gods. Destiny. At this juncture, Geralt hasn't a damn clue.

Perhaps the main reason he'a coping after the ordeal is because this isn't his first brush with death, nor haunting memories. You learn to live with it. Maybe not well, but.

Bottles of heavy liquor go a long way.

He flips open the cover of a thick leather tome. Idle curiosity. Fitting, that the man is surrounded by dusty books. He's surprised it's not completely buried him.

"Better," he replies. Almost fully recovered, as well. The healers in Nocwich are skilled, and Nadine took care of the rest in Cadens. They were fortunate.

He lets the cover fall shut again. His gaze meets Istredd's. "You intercepted a blade for her."