Season of Storms (The Witcher, #8)

by Andrzej Sapkowski

Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster; for if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back into you.

I consider gazing into the abyss utter foolishness. There are many things in the world much more worth gazing into.

And the sorcerers. We’ll come to your aid. We shan’t allow revolt or anarchy, because they don’t suit us either. So keep on exploiting and increasing your wealth. Feel free. And don’t interfere with others doing the same. That’s my request and advice.”

Guard against disappointments, because appearances can deceive. Things that are really as they seem are rare. And a woman is never as she seems.

Lytta had a tried and tested opinion, formed by years of experience, of what constituted a real man. She knew how to recognise a real man in a flock of more-or-less successful imitations.

And I’m alone, completely alone, endlessly alone among the strange and hostile elements. Solitude amid a sea of strangeness. Don’t you dream of that?” No, I don’t, he thought. I have it every day.

I’d prefer to be thought of as a supernatural creature armed with a supernatural weapon. They hire me to be that and pay me to be that. Normality, meanwhile, is the same as banality, and banality is cheap.

“You aren’t especially clever, though you like to think otherwise. But you’re too clever to try to stop me.”

Things were not looking good. Contacts with princes were rarely pleasant. And almost never ended well.

Universal peace among nations is a condition of prosperity, the old man tried to prove, and peace is achieved by arming oneself. The most certain method of preventing wars is to have a terrible weapon as a deterrent: the more terrible it is, the more enduring and certain the peace.

He, Ortolan, would give humanity the benefit of peace, even if it would first be necessary to destroy half of it.

The Witcher sighed. He’d happened to observe the effects of the safe functioning teleportals more than once and he’d also helped sorting the remains of people who’d used teleportals. Which was why he knew that declarations about their safety could be classified along with such statements as: “my little dog doesn’t bite,” “my son’s a good boy,” “this stew’s fresh,” “I’ll give you the money back the day after tomorrow at the latest,” “he was only getting something out of my eye,” “the good of the fatherland comes before everything,” and “just answer a few questions and you’re free to go.”

Anxiety is never irrational, Geralt thought to himself. Aside from psychological disturbances. It was one of the first things novice witchers were taught. It’s good to feel fear. If you feel fear it means there’s something to be feared, so be vigilant. Fear doesn’t have to be overcome. Just don’t yield to it. And you can learn from it.

Despite that, the task turned out to be quite monotonous. The Witcher, however, wasn’t bothered by monotony, he was accustomed to it in his profession: in most cases, only patience, perseverance and determination guaranteed a successful kill.

For he’s a good witcher and a good man. Shall I tell you, good witcher, what good people are? They’re people whom fate hasn’t blessed with the chance of profiting from the benefits of being evil. Or alternatively people who were given a chance but were too stupid to take advantage

he was still alive, and where there’s life there’s hope, as his preceptor in Kaer Morhen, Vesemir, used to say.

The witcher code doesn’t permit me to act according to my own wishes. I cannot abandon anyone in peril of death.”

Werewolves, werebears, wererats and similar creatures are therianthropes, humans able to shapeshift. The aguara is an antherion. An animal—or rather a creature—able to assume the form of a human.”

“You know who I am,” he cut her off. “And the sword stays where it is. To act as a reminder.” “Of what?” “That hasty actions have perilous consequences.”

My gleam penetrates the darkness, my brightness disperses the gloom.