"Vesemir and you, one of the orphaned boys." So Geralt isn't as old as he thought he might be. He's not that much older than Istredd and Yennefer, given a decade or two. Now the mages are almost as endangered, but they at least will still have new magic users born with each generation. Whether they get to them or not in time, that's unknown, but it's not the same with the witchers, as far as he know. They're the ones who can get lost to time.

If the birds are talking still, they can't hear them, and their conversations feels all the more intimate because there's so much quiet outside of them. Istredd takes a crystal and puts it into a pouch, having seen for himself that they can stain what they touch.

He can tell that's not the full story, and if it was a few months ago, he wouldn't press again. But they have changed even if in small ways, enough for them to even have a conversation this far, with Geralt giving some of his past details. Istredd glances over at him, raising an eyebrow.

"But?" he prompts quietly, indicating he does know, but he doesn't want to push more than that.