‘Witcher,’ she whispered, kissing his cheek, ‘there’s no romance in you. And I . . . I like elven legends, they are so captivating. What a pity humans don’t have any legends like that. Perhaps one day they will?
Perhaps they’ll create some? But what would human legends deal with? All around, wherever one looks, there’s greyness and dullness. Even things which begin beautifully lead swiftly to boredom and dreariness, to that human ritual, that wearisome rhythm called life. Oh, Geralt, it’s not easy being a sorceress, but comparing it to mundane, human existence ...