[ Brief annoyance crosses his face. Geralt ignores the suggestion, the implication. There is nothing wrong with him. He does not need a mage fucking about in his head. ]
You're right. [ Long before this world took over, he left his share of memories behind. His mother's face, the boys who huddled with him during their first weeks at Kaer Morhen. The mages that took him—what did they even look like? He can't remember, never tried to. Time takes the images he no longer has use for. ] But they don't come back. These are coming back.
[ Unbidden and clear as day. That is the difference. Memories that fade from the passing years do not return without cause. They sure as hell don't return for several of them within weeks, days, apart. ]
How come you aren't asking more questions? [ The sky is cracking, and he can't be the first to approach Istredd about this. What happened to the man who would risk his life for a fucking book to find his answers? ]
no subject
You're right. [ Long before this world took over, he left his share of memories behind. His mother's face, the boys who huddled with him during their first weeks at Kaer Morhen. The mages that took him—what did they even look like? He can't remember, never tried to. Time takes the images he no longer has use for. ] But they don't come back. These are coming back.
[ Unbidden and clear as day. That is the difference. Memories that fade from the passing years do not return without cause. They sure as hell don't return for several of them within weeks, days, apart. ]
How come you aren't asking more questions? [ The sky is cracking, and he can't be the first to approach Istredd about this. What happened to the man who would risk his life for a fucking book to find his answers? ]