A new kind of foe - Part 3 - Geralt x Reader

                                    

                                          
Geralt woke with a start, looking through the fire to see that Jaskier was still sleeping soundly. The bard gripping to his lute, as if his life depended on it. The White Wolf slowly getting to his feet and making his way down to the small river by which the pair had camped for the evening. Geralt dipping his hands into the cold, clear water, before bringing the liquid up to his face. 
It had to have been a dream; he had been thinking about the woman since he had met her, so it made sense that she would also be in his dreams. Yet it had still been so real.......all been so real. He had felt her breath on his skin. He had felt the........Geralt quickly placing his fingers on his neck where his foe had pushed in his own blade. His jaw tightening as he saw the hint of crimson on his finger tips. 
She was playing with him. He had found himself an unwilling part of this game of hers, and once again, she had had him at her mercy. Once again, she could have struck him down; but.......but she hadn't. In fact, she wanted him, to end her. But how could he end her, if he didn't know what she was; if she could control him and leave him powerless. And......how many more people would die, before he could figure everything out. Before he could find a way to stop her, as she claimed that she wanted him to. 
Suddenly, something caught his attention. The glint of something that had been caught by the light of the moon, which had just appeared from behind a thick cloud. The hand of the Witcher moving back into the water; his fingers wrapping around the object securely, before he brought it to the surface. His brows furrowing as he looked down into his palm and saw what he had found.........It was a medallion, similar to the one that he himself wore. Yet instead of having the image of the wolf, it showed that of a cat, with a snake encircling it. Geralt knowing that he had seen the two symbols before, but never together and never in this configuration. The big man taking a seat on the bank, as he continued to study it. 
The first symbol was that of the School of the Cat; the school formed after a mutiny. Its members having believed that they could improve on the mutation processes and build a better order by themselves; aiming to surpass their predecessor and command the respect of all that called the Continent, home. The rebel students leaving Morgraig by night, taking with them a significant collection of the mutagenic compounds and alchemical tools. The group establishing its seat in Stygga Castle, a stronghold situated in a secluded mountain chain in Ebbing. And from this new base of operation, the School of the Cat had become not just a training facility, but a significant player in the local political sphere. Choosing to win over various rulers, by rejecting the policy of neutrality, and sending out their members as spies, assassins, and simple swords for hire. Its members trained in fighting styles that focused primarily on speed, precision, and agility. 
And then there was the snake. There no doubt in Geralt's mind that it was the symbol, or a variation of it at least, for the School of the Viper. A school that had been founded by Ivar Evil-Eye, for the purpose of hunting down and destroying the Wild Hunt; its members originally being part of the School of the Bear, and settling in the Amell Mountains where Arnaghad founded that school. Yet years later, a group had betrayed the school, nearly killing Arnaghad in the process. These Witchers leaving to establish their own school, which embraced the poison of the viper. And even though its members displayed more neutrality than the School of the Cat; the Vipers also did not only accept contracts on monsters, for they had no qualms in hunting and killing, humans and non-humans too. And thought they would happily kill for coin; they would never outright choose to join one side in a conflict. This refusal having led to the school's eventual downfall. But why there would be a medallion with these two schools on it, was a mystery to Geralt. He never having heard of a Witcher that had been trained by both schools; of someone that could have gone through the trials of both schools. That, and why a Witcher's medallion would just be there, stuck between the reeds in a river, he didn't know. The White Wolf ghosting his fingers over the symbols, before pushing the silver pendant into his pocket then getting to his feet. Geralt about to turn and return to the camp, until he saw something else; the Witcher leaning over and finding a long chain. It seeming to him that it and the medallion were a pair. The necklace slowly coming up from the mud of the river, his brows furrowing once more, as he found a small piece attached to the chain. Geralt taking the rectangular piece of silver between his fingers; the rays of the moon illuminating the runes that had been delicately etched into it. The pale haired man sure that they were Elder Runes, and though he could not claim a full knowledge of the ancient runic alphabet, used by Aen Seidhe; he knew enough to know that the letters spelt out a name. His eyes widening as he realised what that name was..............(Y/n).