After life fucked you over? [ He gets it. How it feels. ] My mother claimed it was Destiny, that had her abandon me to the Witchers.
[ As though it made it all right. It didn't. And he isn't sure if it had anything to do with Ciri. If maybe the reason he was missing something was because he'd been taken from his life in the first place. If it was what she told herself, to let herself live with her decision. Would he have found himself in Cintra, anyhow, had he not lived his life as a Witcher? Could he have even protected her afterwards as he had otherwise? Would Ciri have simply been bound to another protector and his path found elsewhere?
He's thought about it, often. What it all means. He spent so much of his life telling himself none of it meant anything. Now it feels as though it does and he can't say whether or not he wants it to. It'd been simpler when he was certain it did not. These days—he doesn't know. A divine plan is not a concept he subscribes to. His choices have never stopped feeling like his own. And yet. Some things, he can't deny. ]
You don't deserve what happened any more than I did. [ He hesitates. There's a sense he's only recently been working this out himself, a question that lies underneath what he's saying. ] I don't believe in plans laid. But sometimes we find it, that one good thing. Maybe that's all Destiny is. Something eventually meant to come amidst the senseless shit we're dealt, that makes it a little more bearable.
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[ As though it made it all right. It didn't. And he isn't sure if it had anything to do with Ciri. If maybe the reason he was missing something was because he'd been taken from his life in the first place. If it was what she told herself, to let herself live with her decision. Would he have found himself in Cintra, anyhow, had he not lived his life as a Witcher? Could he have even protected her afterwards as he had otherwise? Would Ciri have simply been bound to another protector and his path found elsewhere?
He's thought about it, often. What it all means. He spent so much of his life telling himself none of it meant anything. Now it feels as though it does and he can't say whether or not he wants it to. It'd been simpler when he was certain it did not. These days—he doesn't know. A divine plan is not a concept he subscribes to. His choices have never stopped feeling like his own. And yet. Some things, he can't deny. ]
You don't deserve what happened any more than I did. [ He hesitates. There's a sense he's only recently been working this out himself, a question that lies underneath what he's saying. ] I don't believe in plans laid. But sometimes we find it, that one good thing. Maybe that's all Destiny is. Something eventually meant to come amidst the senseless shit we're dealt, that makes it a little more bearable.