Chapter 10: The Sorceress that is Allergic to Magical Potion

The moon still glowed brightly in the sky as Argus approached the sorceress's tent slowly. He realized that it was a bad idea, as even he knew that the risk of losing your life because you've approached a female spellcaster's tent is high, in any universe he found himself in.

And yet, he still approached the tent. As he drew closer, a thin fragrance of a balance of sensual flowers and warm creamy notes that drew anyone who smelled it entered his nostrils, It was a pleasant scent, not to mention, he guessed that it was probably an expensive perfume as well, or magical.

He now stood at the entrance of the tent, he could see a table with a mirror fixed on top of it, a bunch of beauty products like cream and powder scattered around said table, though he didn't see any more things around except that, as his views are blocked by the cloth at the entrance.

"Excuse me?" Argus called, trying to see if the sorceress answered. She did not. "May I borrow your time for a moment?"

Again, there was no answer. He was tempted to just move the cloth away from his way and enter the tent, but, at the very last moment, he stopped. But, his 'patience' was rewarded, when suddenly, he could hear the sound of water moving inside, and a voice quickly came.

"Is that you, Geralt?" she asked, her voice seeming too keen. "Sorry, I fell asleep…"

"Ah, forgive me, but I am not the witcher you're looking for." Argus quickly answered to fix the misunderstanding. "I just want to talk, and ask a couple of inquiries."

"Oh?" the sorceress's tone lowered. "Inquiries? What kind of inquiries?"

"The magical kind."

"Hmm… interesting, you didn't have the patience to wait until the morning?"

"I was worried you would leave before I could approach you," Ethan answered. "May I enter?"

The sorceress paused for a moment, before answering. "Sure. Go ahead."

Hearing the permission, Argus moved away from the cloth of the entrance and entered the tent. Now he could see the full extent of the place. He could see the table and the mirror, he could see a closed chest beside it, he could see some books stacked beside the chest, he could see a bed, and he could see… a tub filled with water, and the sorceress was in it.

"Oh gods…" Argus turned around, being polite. "I didn't mean to–"

"No, it's fine, you can look at me." The sorceress cut him off, she didn't move at all and stayed inside the tub. "So, you're the 'mysterious wanderer' the priestess is talking about?"

"There is nothing 'mysterious' about me." Argus shrugged. "I'm simply a curious soul in a foreign land."

"Yes. Foreign. You're not from Nilfgaard. Where are you from?"

Argus finally turned around again to face the woman. "You wouldn't know."

The sorceress raised her brow. "Try me."

"I prefer not to tell." Argus smiled. "Perhaps I should stop saying that I am from a foreign land if I don't want to answer where truly I am from, huh…"

The sorceress just chuckled briskly. "You should."

Suddenly, Argus could feel that something was brushing at his mind, trying to probe, to no avail. He frowned. "Did you just try to read my thoughts?"

"Oh, wow. Are you a sorcerer?" she asked, avoiding to answer.

"No." he simply said.

"I truly doubt that." she countered. She then stood up from the bath, her naked figure clear for Argus to see, but the young wizard, ever the gentleman he is, looked away again, 'respecting' her.

The sorceress noticed this gesture, and could only scrunch up her face cutely in amusement. Quickly, a robe appeared on her body, covering her. Noticing this, Argus looked at her again, to see what she had to say.

"So, how many inquiries do you want to make?" she said, slowly walking towards the table with a mirror on it.

"A lot," Argus said. "But first, what kind of sorceress are you?"

The enchantress raised her brow, sitting in front of the table. "Meaning?"

"Your specialization? Or is that not a thing here?"

"Specialization? You have an interesting homeland…" she murmured. "My specialization… Let's see… I guess I'm good at healing spells and potions."

"Hm? Really? Sorcerers can heal?"

"And that's a problem?"

"Not really." Argus hummed. "Just curious is all…"

"What about you then? Not-a-sorcerer." the sorceress said. "If you are not a sorcerer, what are you? Because you're clearly magical in some way."

"I'm a wizard," Argus said, his hand slowly traveling towards his bag of holding.

"A wizard? Is that a different thing than a sorcerer in your 'homeland'?" she asked, amused and curious at the same time.

"You guessed correctly." he hummed. He then took out something from his bag of holding, a bottle of potion, and he put it on top of the table, making the sorceress confused.

"And what is this?" she asked.

"A potion. You said you specialize in it." Argus said. "I noticed you looked ill when you came here, perhaps this will do, and while you drink it, compare it to the potions here."

The sorceress frowned. "I can't."

"You can't?" Argus raised his brow.

"I can't drink it." she clarified.

"Because…"

"I'm allergic to magical potions," she said.

Argus has a confused look. "What? You specialize in magical potions but you're allergic to it?"

"Mock me all you want," she grumbled. "If you're done, I'll go and take a look at your so-called potion—"

"No, no, no, you misunderstand." Argus cleared his throat. "It's curious really, what is the cause of the allergy? All potions? How is that possible? Every single potion has different ingredients, to be allergic to all of them is almost impossible."

"I am allergic to the magical properties of the magical ingredients—"

"Pardon?" Argus cut her off again, making an even more confused face. "You're allergic to magical properties? Then how do you cast spells? Or do you simply can't do that?"

"No… I can still cast spells," she answered. "Why are you so curious about it?"

"Fascinating," Argus murmured. "Your words contradict each other. You said you're allergic to magical properties, but you can still cast spells without your allergies acting up. How is that possible? If you truly are allergic to magical properties, then you will be itchy—at the very least—every time you cast a spell."

The sorceress started to get annoyed. "It's not a contradiction. With potions, the properties enter my body, but spells, spells do not."

"But as I understand, you are a sorceress, and sorceresses channel magic to their bodies, correct?"

"W-Well, yeah, but—"

"Then have you ever thought that it's not an allergy, but, a mental blockage that prevented you from—"

"Could you shut up for a second?" the sorceress finally cut him off, frowning deeply. Argus raised his hands, walking away from her. "With potions, I digest the properties, and those properties become nutrients to my body. But, with spells, it isn't the case."

"I see…" Argus hummed. "That is curious indeed… "

"What is your name, anyway?" she questioned in annoyance.

"Ah, pardon. I'm Argus Moonfall, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." he smiled, bowing slightly. "And you are…"

"Triss. Triss Merigold," she answered. "Any more 'inquiries' then? And I won't accept the ones that mock me for my allergies."

Argus just cleared his throat. "Right…"