22 Chapter 21

Those who give you a serpent when you ask for a fish, may have nothing but serpents to give. - Khalil Gibran

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P.O.V Switch: Ivar Evil-Eye

Current Year: 1259

"Well then." The masked mage said while cracking his neck. "Shall we get started?"

This man is arrogant, but he has the skill, as well as the balls, to back it up. I looked over to my right to check on Vormis as I continued to circle around my foe. He was down for the count. I could hear his heartbeat, but it was faint. I think that kick had managed to get one of his ribs to pierce his lungs. I almost couldn't believe it, one kick had sent him into this state? It was almost preposterous to think that a mage, who are mostly known to be physically weak, was capable of such a feat.

Denying the, very real, reality in front of me would get me nowhere. I needed to think. Despite this mage not currently conjuring a spell, my medallion was still slightly humming… That got me thinking quite a bit. I've never seen it done before, not in my many long years, but is it possible that this masked man is using chaos to enhance his physical form? Either that, or maybe he handcrafted a spell by hand that would enhance his physical attributes. I knew he wasn't a witcher, he didn't move like one, but his speed, strength and reaction time were practically superior to my own.

Most mages would never even think to attempt and craft a spell that had to do with temporarily enhancing their physical abilities. Most mages don't even know how to use a weapon. They would actually probably scoff at this man's efforts and call him a mindless brute. Through magic, a lot of things are possible. A spell that was crafted to give someone enhanced physical attributes might not be too far off the list.

These thoughts were mostly useless, I needed to figure out a weakness to exploit. I gazed at the mage twirling his staff, a plan was taking root in my mind.

I immediately moved in a bit closer and then activated the alternate sign form for Aard. A huge telekinetic force exploded from my body in a huge sweep. Everything in my surroundings was pushed back moderately.

The mage looked bothered by my efforts and lazily conjured a magical shield to protect himself. I took this moment to throw a series of throwing knives at my opponent, aiming for any weak points.

The mage didn't bother to put up his shield for the mediocre weapons. Instead, he just swatted them out of the air with a quick wave of his staff. I quickly ran over and began low chops, aimed on making this masked warrior retreating for several steps. I knew that I could not cross blades with him, if I did, my meteorite sword would undoubtedly break.

My assault continued, but I could tell it would not last for long. I had aimed several quick strikes so far without having to come near his staff, but that ended quickly.

The masked mage managed to fire off a telekinetic spell from his palms, much more powerful than my Aard from earlier. I was blown off my feet and sent several yards flying in the other direction.

I began tumbling over the ground rapidly before making an abrupt stop when my torso hit a tree in the vicinity. I allowed myself a small groan in pain, before quickly bolting myself upright onto my feet.

The masked mage's visage entered my vision as soon as I got up. He had crossed the distance remarkable quickly and was now only a few feet away. I swung my sword upwards in a graceful strike, intent on at least landing a superficial wound.

It was not to be, unfortunately. The mage brought up his staff in defence. Our weapons met in the air with a loud clang.

Sprinkles of metal flew all over the place and I realized that the weight in my hands had gotten a lot lighter. My sword had broken during the exchange and shattered into several tiny little pieces.

It was a shame. I had paid good coin for a witcher sword of that caliber. As soon as I realized my sword was broken, I quickly reached my hand around my back to try and grab my silver one instead. Silver swords don't work as well on human opponents, but it was all I had.

As soon as I had gotten my blade halfway out of its sheath, the masked mage grabbed me by the throat and hoisted me into the air. I struggled within his grasp, desperately trying to escape. His arm was firm and his grip assured me that if I kept struggling, my neck would make an untimely cracking noise.

"Well met, Witcher." He intoned with a flat tone of voice. He didn't even sound fatigued. "It was a good battle, you lasted longer then I expected you would. I haven't had a workout like that in years. Are you at all related to another mage? I can sense that you have a pretty good magic potential. It's a shame you ended up as a witcher, you could have been so much more."

Damn, if there is one thing I hate… It's cliches. Harkon and I have that in common, I think. I've read enough fairy tales to know that this man sounded just like a villain. It pissed me off slightly. If you were going to do an evil monologue, at least be original.

"Oh, who knows." I managed to croak out through the hand that was crushing my windpipe. "I'm pretty sure my mother was a Leshen and my father was just some horny druid hallucinating on too many mushrooms."

I couldn't see my opponent's face, but I imagine he scowled at my pathetic attempt at a joke. It seems he's not a man that enjoys comedy! Laughing in the face of extreme danger is what it means to be a warrior! I wish Harkon was here, he would certainly laugh at a joke like that…

"Enough of the banter." The masked man growled out as he gripped my throat a bit tighter. "Tell me… Who is the 'source' within your school? That much chaos energy doesn't just come out of nowhere. I'm afraid that a lot of those soldiers running in are going to die before they even make it into the keep."

The masked mage pointed at my castle on the horizon. He turned me a bit to the side in order to see the school. The red energy emanating from the black gates was starting to get fiercer then before. I could see that the rain clouds that were clotting the sky were starting to get thicker. It wouldn't be long before the storm truly starts.

Those soldiers running towards the gates are rather stupid. When sources are known to go out of control like this, usually entire towns are wiped from the map. Harkon probably isn't strong enough to do that yet, but he definitely should be able to bring down the castle if he keeps going out of control like this.

"Ah, That. Pretty sure it's my mother in law. She can get so cranky when the weather is cloudy outside like this… As long as we make her some nice warm tea, she should settle down. I much prefer a nice Cintran mint tea myself, it really clears out the sinuses. She, on the other hand, prefers the tarter stuff from Skellige, if you can believe that. I swear, she is almost impossible to deal wi-" I tried to crack a witty joke, but I was pummeled by a fist to my sternum. It seems like I was getting on this guy's nerves.

"You would joke, knowing that your life is in my hands?" The masked mage said while scoffing at my efforts.

"This is the only time to joke, my friend. I will not cower to some mage that has a warrior fetish. Like seriously? Make up your mind already! Mage or warrior, choose one." I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster.

The masked mage slammed me into the ground with a mighty thud. It seems like I was mocking him a bit too much, he seems to be getting impatient.

"No matter." He said with a clear cut voice. "Your school is already destroyed."

Without looking away from me, the man charged up a similar looking lightning bolt from before in his hands and then aimed it at the front gate.

"Any last words or jests before the end?" The masked man asked with clear indifference while he held the extremely volatile spell in his hands.

"Poppycock." I said without any regrets.

The man released the spell in his hands. A bolt of purple lightning brilliantly flew across the sky. The gates of the castle were destroyed, wooden splinters and pieces of metal exploded across the landscape. The soldiers, finally seeing their obstacle cleared, yelled out a battle cry and then ran inside. They were bloodthirsty and set on the objective of eliminating the last few witchers remaining.

I looked over at the keep with shame and sadness. My friends and family were about to be slaughtered. I didn't have time to think about the possibility of my dying friends and family for long, unfortunately. I heard and felt an incredibly uncomfortable sound. It was a large cracking noise. The sound itself took place from within the palm of the mage's hand that was holding my throat.

I felt my body go limp and my blood run icy cold. It was getting harder to focus and even harder to think. I thought… That my body was dropped to the ground, but I'm not sure. It was getting hard to… to stay awake. I feel like I've been awake for a really long time now. Maybe it would be better if I rested for a while to recover. That would be nice, a rest sounds really good right about now.

I closed my eyes, ready for the doubtlessly long rest that awaited me. It was nice to finally let myself take a break from it all. I feel like I've been fighting for so long now… Against monsters, then against the school of the bear, and then the Wild Hunt… I hope that I will be able to wake up soon, though. Harkon is about to finish his mutations in a couple days. I want to be there for him when he succeeds. I don't want him to be mad at me if I rest for too long…