Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Ciri played glumly with the Wood Withered Knight.

Vesemir's craftsmanship was better than any skilled craftsman she had ever seen at court. She used to wonder why, but not now.

Ciri had already understood that the old grandfather Vesemir might outlive her grandmother, and that her grandmother knew so much, and Vesemir must know more.

She was thinking, it would be nice if the black-robed mage knocked on the door. She's going to scold him severely - am I not your accidental son? Why didn't you come back for so long? There was actually a small corner in Ciri's heart that she thought he was dead. She had sadly told Geralt this speculation, and the witcher laughed out loud.

"You're thinking too much, little girl. Who can kill him?" The witcher nearly slipped under the table with laughter. "You haven't seen him when he is real, don't worry about him."

"It's strange if you don't worry." Ciri muttered. She slid the wooden knight from one end of the table to the other, imitating the sound of horseback riding, and then she suddenly heard the sound of the door being opened.

The girl turned her head, and there was nothing but darkness outside the wide open door.

Her heart beat faster.

"Geralt?" Ciri jumped off the bench, clutching the wood-withered knight tightly. "Geralt? Is that you?!"

No one answered, maybe it was just the wind - could it be? Is the wind capable of blowing these two heavy doors open? Ciri tried to slash them with a sword in a naughty one, and her hands were shaking with pain, and there was not even a trace on the door.

The wind...can blow open such a door?

She came to the door cautiously, her cowhide boots on the ground, barely making a sound. The little girl's face was wrinkled, she thought she would cry, but she didn't.

The Wood Withered Knight was in her hands, exuding heat. It was warmed by her body temperature, and now it was sending her strength back in the night wind blowing. She is frightened, but she will never cry. Because the black-robed mage told her: "When you are in danger, crying is the most useless option, Ciri, remember."

She muttered to herself, in her heart, He Shenyan's voice sounded, and she used her own voice to say what He Shenyan had told her: "Keep calm."

"Geralt?" she called again. "Are you outside?"

Still no one answered, Ciri pursed her lips and ran to the corner at the other end of the hall. There is a barrel there,

Inside are her training wooden swords. Ciri picked up one and skillfully held a sword flower in her hand. She is very serious about training, not at all squeamish like a princess. Geralt joked that she could be a witcher.

Then give it a try, if there are monsters. I am the first female witcher today.

Ciri held the sword in his right hand and the Wood Withered Knight in his left. She came to the door little by little, and at this moment, a hand covered her eyes.

A familiar voice whispered in her ear: "Bang."

Ciri wasn't taken aback, her reaction went beyond those of two childish men. Their shenanigans didn't have the results they should have. The girl didn't cry, she didn't scream. She just turned deftly and looked up at the mage.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

They looked at each other.

Then, Ciri poked the mage in the leg with her wooden sword and whispered, "Are you for real?"

"Of course I am, boy."

"I do not believe."

Ciri's voice became a little choked, but she still didn't cry. At this time, the smile on Geralt's face flashing from behind the door had become a little embarrassing. And he found that He Shenyan did not laugh. Instead, his expression became very soft. It was a look of holding a fragile gemstone, for fear that it would shatter.

"So, what do I have to do so that you can believe that I didn't lie to you?"

"Give me a trick."

"Okay, Your Royal Highness."

The black-robed mage knelt down on one knee obediently, and the princess holding the wooden sword and the wooden wither knight asked softly, "What kind of trick do you want to see?"

"You gave me that when we first met."

So He Shenyan snapped his fingers, and a flame of flame bloomed between his fingers: "Is this enough, Your Royal Highness?"

Geralt unknowingly leaned against the door, folded his arms and smiled at the warm scene. He heard Ciri trying to suppress the smile in his voice, pretending to be aggrieved: "Not enough, you have become much smaller than the last time!"

"Don't go too far, princess. Playing with fire at night is easy to wet the bed," said the mage seriously, and then laughed. "I apologize for my actions, forgive me, okay?"

"You promise you'll never be away for that long again."

"I promise."

"So, the hook?"

The girl stretched out her right hand, and the soft lights in the hall of Kermorhan were reflected in her bright green eyes. A few seconds later, her pinky finger, which was hanging in the air, was hooked by a pale, slender finger.

"Pull the hook." The black-robed mage said solemnly.

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"She slept?"

"Sleep, kids get tired easily. We obviously really scared her." Geralt sat back in his chair and took a beer from the alley below. "How does this wine taste?"

"you ask me?"

"It's from Sintra, and I haven't had it--I wouldn't drink it if you weren't back. Vesemir should be the first to try it."

He Shenyan smiled, took a sip of the beer, felt the mellow taste, and said, "You didn't think so when we both drank his stock last time."

"Hey, you've got a share too," Geralt said solemnly, taking a sip himself. This sip was like flipping some kind of switch on him, making the witcher's whole body excited. "Good guy! The brewmaster should get a villa as a reward!"

"I agree."

He Shenyan expressed his opinion equally seriously. The mage used a fork to fork a piece of mutton and put it in his mouth, and exhaled contentedly: "Your craftsmanship is much better than before."

"No way, I have to take the child."

Geralt directly reached for a whole sausage, took a bite, and said inarticulately: "The Hinterlanders will send chefs and guards over the first year, but no one will come the second year. She said it was her own request, and she thought they were annoying. So I had to study and study cooking by myself. Otherwise, I would not be able to satisfy the princess' stomach. "

"What? The water ghost hunter changed his career to become a cook?"

"Damn it! Don't mention that name!" Geralt said with an angry face, but in fact he smiled. "Tell me about you, what have you been up to lately? I bet you've had a long adventure. You have the exact same exhaustion that I feel when I travel."

"I?"

The wizard thoughtfully forked a piece of beef again and placed it on a loaf of bread on his plate. He stared at the bread for a moment, and Geralt waited patiently. When it comes to storytelling, the mage has never let him down. He knew that he would also hear a good story this time.

He was disappointed.

"Nothing to talk about, Geralt."

The mage said dryly, and even sighed: "It's not a good thing - long story short, I helped a huge human empire. I made a deal with the smaller lake fairy you've seen and saved my life. A world escaped from a responsibility my teacher left me."

"that's it?"

"that's it."

"You sound tired."

"I'm really tired, actually, I'm exhausted. Much more tired than climbing a mountain."

He Shenyan rolled up the piece of bread and ate it together with the mutton: "I thought I had the ability to act as a temporary god, I thought I could save innocent people again and again -- did I do it? I don't know. I just felt tired. There was a time when I was busy saving the world while questioning my actions mentally."

"As if two voices were whispering to me, Geralt," he said, looking at the witcher. "A voice said: No, you idiot, what are you doing? You're fighting for a bunch of people you don't even know."

"Then another voice said: Yes, you don't know them. You don't have to. But they're all human."

Geralt noticed that the mage's black eyes were so dark for the first time.

"They are all human..." He Shenyan muttered to himself. "I'm a mage from Kama Taj, Geralt. Do you know what that means?"

"I don't know," Geralt continued. The witcher can be a very good listener if he wants to.

He is.

"Kama Taj is a union of a group of mages who are the guardians of mankind. They have been dedicated to protecting mankind for tens of thousands of years, keeping ignorant civilians away from the harm of the devil and magical disasters. And I am one of them —No, I'm the best of them all."

"Rightly, I shouldn't have doubts about it. Because saving the world is a normal thing for me, but..."

He looked up, and Geralt was shocked to see pain in his eyes.

"But, I just want to go home." He Shenyan told him in a low voice. "In the beginning, I was thrown into a world that was foreign to me. I was tortured by the devil, I was tortured by the church, and then I escaped. I learned magic and hated this world in my heart. For me, I was willing to use All abilities in exchange for me going back to my old home."

"Afterwards, I reconciled with the world. I found that my hatred was unnecessary—seriously, why should I hate the world? I should hate the devil, and the church. They made me hate it. full of hatred."

He Shenyan smiled.

"I started living there, ten years. I spent ten years there, when I wasn't as strong as I am now, and my mentality was still a mortal one. I took time seriously... .. 10 years. Everyone in the world knew me, I was their hero, and I left."

"I can't take it anymore - I want to go home, I have to go home. Those ten years couldn't resist the thirty years I spent at home, that country had everything I needed, my parents, my Family, my friends...I wanted to go back, and then, I failed. I couldn't find my way. I can't find it until now."

"Do you want to go back now?"

He Shenyan said without hesitation: "Of course, but I already know that most of this is impossible."

"why?"

"Because the world is too much and I'm a lunatic. I might have schizophrenia. I want to go home, but when I see someone hurt or a world is suffering an undeserved fate, I'm there to help them. "

"It's not contradictory, you just did what a normal person would do."

"I'm not normal, Geralt." He Shenyan repeated. "I'm a lunatic."

"You're not," Geralt told him. "You're my friend, someone better than all the mages I know. A hero."

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The next day, they met in the courtyard with a splitting headache.

The mage drinks to get drunk, and naturally he will not use magic to clear that feeling. Seeing the same weakness on Geralt's face, he started mocking him mercilessly: "Witchers get headaches from hangovers too?"

"You're still a mage!"

Geralt responded hoarsely. This is the result of their battle last night. In the second half of the night, these two people drank their heads and ran outside the castle to catch the wolf and wanted to teach it to sing. The poor wolf was scared to death. Geralt and He Shenyan's plan didn't work out, but they both learned how to howl.

"Come on." He Shenyan waved his hand nonchalantly. "I drank more than you last night!"

"Damn, how dare you say that?!" Geralt almost died of anger. "You took all the wine, and I had to go all the way to the cellar to carry another case!"

"You don't drink as much as I do!"

"You stole the wine!"

"You don't drink as much as I do!"

"You stole the wine!"

"..." He Shenyan was silent, ending the cycle. Because he suddenly found them a little childish.

And the witcher's expression was similar to his, Geralt scratched his head guiltily: "Uh, did Ciri get up?"

"I don't know, are you going to make breakfast?"

"What do I do for breakfast when you're here? Can't you cast a spell to conjure up a table of food?"

"I can, Geralt, but I don't seem to want to eat very much right now..." He Shenyan burped his wine indifferently. "And you?"

"Me too," the witcher replied glumly. He looked up and saw a small head looking down at them from the castle's second-floor window, so he reached out and waved it up: "Hey kid! Come down for breakfast!"

"No!" Ciri answered loudly. "I heard your conversation! You must have tricked me into making breakfast! Humph! I'll come down in the afternoon, I want to read a book!"

"Read a book?"

Geralt said curiously, "It's really the sun coming out of the west."

The mage shrugged, snapped his fingers and turned into two armchairs, and two men who were still drunk, lay down and basked in the sun.

They plan to do nothing today.

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