Both. [ It's a question he sat on himself for some time afterwards. If he lived it or simply watched it. In the end, he decided that the technicality makes no difference: they are memories fixed deep in his mind as though they were always meant to be there. ]

Ciri tells me the events to be true. [ If not for Ciri, he'd have more doubts. But between Jaskier and him and Ciri confirming that it is as she knows—there's only one conclusion he can reach. ] Manipulations of the mind tend to prey on what we know and fear, besides. This is—I recall meeting people I never even gave thought to existing.

[ It's Istredd he goes back to frequently as he's sorted this out. A man through whom he learned of Yennefer, of the monoliths—but who otherwise bears little personal significance to him. A passing encounter. And yet his face, his voice, his mannerisms are clear. Defined. Like the unique blue of his eyes. Things Geralt would only commit to memory if they'd really spoken. He can't imagine why such a figure would feature in detail in his mind if this was born from an illusion.

He takes another drink, almost absently. He hasn't really let himself stop to dwell on everything he's feeling. Doesn't want to, either. Putting his focus on what he needs to get done is easier. There are questions that need answering, problems that need solving. ]