"I've one brother, about my age. We went through it all together, though he almost died, even then. My younger brother is the last generation before we...before we couldn't make any more of us. The man who raised us is over 400 years old, one of our fencing instructors who survived a massacre that left only a handful alive, but left us with neither mages nor alchemists. So now there are four of us, soon there will be three. Every year I ride home wondering if this is the year I return to an empty keep." He shrugs, even though there's hurt and fear in his eyes that shouldn't be there because everyone knows witchers can't feel those things.
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Date: 2020-09-21 04:03 pm (UTC)