On the Road

"Hey, boy, forget all I said and remind me next time not to piss you off." - smirked Coen.

"Said a guy with a sword as big as me." - retorted Alan. - "By the way, old man, four mine three yours. I won." - added he with smug smirk.

"Quality over quantity, brat." - he sneered showing two dead warriors. - "And I'm not old, I'm only twenty." - said witcher while taking out a parch and starting to wipe the sword.

"What? But you look like you are at least century old fossil. And that is conservative estimation." - Ala didn't buy it. Not one bit.

"Conservative estimation, heh? That is one way to curse at the person with proper words." - grumbled Coen. - "Consider myself impressed."

"You were able to repeat that? Looks like your vocabulary has more than five words. Consider myself impressed too." - smiled Alan sitting near him with black blood a gore all over.

"You know, I was about to say something, but you look funny and smell like pile of shit, so I don't." - said witcher, clearly indicating that he got it easier. He really was able to avoid getting blood on himself. That's witcher reflexes and training for you. They learned avoiding it is not just to keep oneself clean. Some monsters had a very potent poison in their bloodstream.

Alan just looked at him with scorn and snapped his fingers. Refreshing wave of cleaning spell went through every part of his body making him and his clothes clean as if he just washed them and stepped out of bath.

"That's cheating!" - complained Coen, while grinding his teeth.

"That's magic! You know, where I'm from, snap of fingers can solve many troubles. Up to half universe of them actually." - said Alan and took out beef jerky from the inner space, that he covered with a little bag he has.

"Sometimes I don't get what you are saying, boy."

Alan snapped fingers again, cleansing the witcher in front of him too. Coen looked at himself and was satisfied to no end.

"What? Like it? Want me to add some strawberry flavor?" - snorted Alan, while chewing on the only food he was able to access inside his space for now.

"No way in hell! Where did you see a witcher smelling like a noble chick on the ball?" - complained Coen with serious look.

"Are you really twenty?"

"I'm already twenty three years how twenty." - grinned old man with a satisfaction in his eyes.

"Damn quack!" - cursed Alan at his shamelessness. He was actually forty three. Well, still looks like a century old fossil, so he is century years old. Period. - "By the way, I wanted to ask. Your eyes looked a bit unusual for a witcher."

"My alchemy trial went a bit out of hand, but as you can see, aside from eyes and face, I'm fine." - said Coen, but judging by his stiff attitude he really was uncomfortable while saying it. Seems like there is some story behind. His eyes, with closer observation, looked really creepy. Pale yellow color aside, it is even attractive, but his whites were full of bloodshot red lines.

After tending to the sword, witcher stood up and packed his things, not forgetting to thoroughly skin seven dead monsters into seven piles of ingredients and trophies for sale.

He went to the horse, untied it and hopped on.

"Hey, old man, you leaving just like that?" - Alan read about witchers unwillingness to involve with others, and he saw it clearly today.

"Are you kidding me? You want to join me?" - he gave Alan a really surprised look. The one anyone will give while looking at the witcher dancing drunk on the streets of Oxenfurt while singing about ladies from Vicovaro.

"Why not?" - the later shrugged and swallowed the last bit of jerky and stood up too.

"Well, for starters, I'm a witcher. Than I'm the witcher. Oh, and if I didn't tell you before. I. Am. A. Witcher." - he said while leaning forward over the horse croup, as if that will make him all the more convincing. Sadly, it didn't, the interlocutor seemed to be completely unimpressed.

"So?" - asked Alan nonchalantly. He was clearly enjoying the game of tag with the witcher who with each passing minute was becoming more and more speechless.

Coen looked at him with hard eyes, as if seeing a weird animal and finally sighed in defeat.

"Speaking about an argument that can ruin any discussion." - he said. - "Well, you don't have a horse..."

"I don't need one, I'm animage."

"And what's that shit?" - witcher looked at Alan and his eyes gradually went large. - "Fuck my grandma!"

"Thanks, but no thanks." - scoffed Tenebris as big as a regular wolf. For safety reasons Alan toned down his transformation.

"Magic." - twitched Coen and send his horse in gallop.

* * *

Deep into the night under the heavy rain a man can be seen moving ahead slowly atop his horse. He had strange armor, two swords behind his back and a bunch of heads dangling by the side of a saddle at the croup.

"I hate rain. It makes my beard itchy." - he complained to the strange platinum-gold half wolf half dragon walking by the side calmly. To no one's surprise, at least not to the witcher, pouring rainfall had zero effect on the strange creature. - "You know that I'm a witcher, right?"

"You said it... at least a dozen times already." - sighed the wolf like creature. Actually after awakening of the bloodline Alan even received a new information for his animal form. It was like... a revelation of sort. With that his expertize in Tenebris form went up a notch. What is more, he is able to partially transform, for example use only a single claw or just wings, but he is yet to try it out.

"Well, witcher kills monsters." - he said trying very hard to sound logical.

"I'll buy you a drink to commemorate that undoubtedly awesome line of work of yours." - said Alan nonchalantly, but he knew what Coen was trying to say here. - "And you can have this nekker reward or what not."

"Deal!" - brightened the witcher shamelessly.

"Why do I think like I bribed a prick right now?" - Tenebris sighed with false grief.

"Money, booze and pussies – that's what makes world go round." - said the witcher sagely.

"You just go and believe in that, yeah. Someone can even call you a man of culture. But not me." - scoffed the wolf, flaring up his wings for an instant. - "By the way, I'm yet to ask where are we and what year is it?"

"Well now... I can understand where, but when? And a year at that?" - Coen met many strange people and creatures during his travels, but that wizard boy is surely one of a kind. Still he felt no falsehood from him and no negativity one normally will see in people.

Only indifference that was more like a necessity, a trait of character. He purposefully covered himself with a shield and avoided talking about things that can pour light on his past. It seems boy being through a lot to actually not want to be closer to people.

At some point he thought about killing him when the later transformed, but he couldn't bare to do that. One thing – they fought and killed together and that is already better than any bonding through drinking or money, after all the brotherhood of battle and blood is sacred in the lands of this world, torn with wars and monsters.

Another is his calming aura and that strange regal feeling he has around him. The one of not only dominance and ferocity of a real beast, but subtle benevolence and even guidance of sorts. A strange creature indeed, but with that witcher knew, that he is not a monster like the witcher code implies.

A monster is a creature bringing harm to others, mostly on instinct, not sententially.

That is why some of the witchers don't hunt dragons that never attack humans, for example, but still can go and kill bruksa without fail. The later can't control itself at all and find pleasure in killing and devouring people, although it can give one a semblance of a sentient being through speech it is not exactly so when it all comes down to blood hunger. Well, they are not the true vampires who can just drink a bit without killing and be satiated.

The boy, Alan, was completely in control and harmless, let alone he said that he is a human and that form is merely a magic transformation. That is to say it not unheard of. Some sorceresses can do it too.

Coen once saw a woman turning to the owl and flying away. There and then he vowed not to bed sorceresses no matter how attractive they can be. Just imagining her turning into a goat or a cow during the most heated moment of the act caused shivers run down the spine. He better go for a conservative choice instead of suffering such surprises.

"So?" - came that annoying ironclad argument in any dispute.

"Hah..." - witcher looked sideways with some headache coming. - "I need booze. And something to kill." - he whispered into his beard. - "We are coming close to Hochenbuz. The town had it rough thirty two years ago. Battle of Hochenbuz made the Lioness of Cintra famous. She did repelled Nazair army here after all. But left the place in ruins. There, see the lights? That's our target." - he pointed at the distance.