[ So there was. No magical lifting is had now. Geralt hasn't bothered to wash himself in the pools yet. Rather pointless when he'll be covered in dirt and sweat, and probably blood again. Or. Maybe not blood. Things are surprisingly quiet in the Nether. Beyond the large sea creatures beneath the magma, no beasts lurk between crevices and tunnels, waiting to take a bite.

Too bad he's incapable of relaxing. The only thing this does is make him suspicious there's something waiting they've not yet uncovered. No land is free from monsters.

As he takes the tome, he reaches up, thoughtless, and brushes the offending lock of hair behind Yennefer's ear for her. A short pause follows as if he's only just realizing what he's done. Then he settles back in his seat. ]

You should know better than to try and warn me away from your thoughts, Yen. [ After all this time, he's already heard the darkest of them. As has she with his.

He flips the yellowed pages. The text is not unfamiliar. Alchemy practices are similar no matter what you're brewing, but it's clear the Draconae have asked the Summoned here because their books are not enough. What must it be like to exist in a sphere full of magic yet be so limited in yours? Because of something beyond your control? Possibly because of something others did? He doesn't know what happened to the dragons originally, the ones lost centuries ago, and neither did Anneth, but...something tells him it was not merely nature taking its course.

A frown draws his brows together. ] Both were inaccessible to them prior to us. Were they recorded anywhere in your readings?

[ What if other lost ingredients are written of in one of these pages? ]