Chapter Text
“The sword of destiny has two edges. You are one of them, and the other is…”
“Sharp”, Cahir finished, unprompted. The Witcher shot him a confused look.
“What? That’s what was written on the wall of our training hall. Apparently, they meant that as a first-year cadet, you’re not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed,” Cahir explained, wiping water from his face and bare chest and squeezing the wet towel above the small stream where he had knelt to wash up. “They even planned to engrave ‘this side towards the enemy’ on the blades, but then the army ditched sabers for double-edged swords. Anyway, where have you picked up that line? Ever been to Nilfgaard, the capital of Nilfgaard?”
Geralt ground his teeth.