Witcher Warrior Scholar Spy

“Once, the Witcher was met with a wall so tall,

The sky ended before the stone.

The Witcher had never leapt nearly so high,

Thus, the Witcher flew above it, through stars and space and all.”

Olea was looking up at the sky above the coast. The sun was low and casting stark shadows around her, but she cared not. Because before her was a land of whirlpools. The sand she sat upon clung to the leather of her armor and coated her palm. But, again, nothing could dampen the feral smile on her face.

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Standing, Olea brushed herself off, the coarse particles scraping her palms.

“Babel, I hope you know, I hate you more than anything else.”

Her mauve eyes shone in the light, and her dark hair whipped around her with the rough wind. And then she pulled off her armor, piece by piece, keeping only her undergarments and her dagger at her thigh.

Then she dove into the water, fighting the whirlpools that wished to keep her away.