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Fandom: The Witcher
Ship: Geralt/OC
Rating: sad
135 words to make you sniffle - no cut because it was a short tweet fic:
Rings
The noon-wraith had been very old and tough. And when he'd finally beaten it, its final scream had almost sounded like his name.
He found the remains buried in a shallow grave behind her hut. She was still wearing the ring.
The rings had been cheap and now it was almost unrecognizable. He'd kept its counterpart around for years but at some time lost it.
They'd told him she'd packed up her stuff and left, shame, now they had to do without a herb-witch. He was so young, he had believed it.
And why would anyone wait for someone like him, visiting sparsely while being on the Path.
He burned the ring with the remains.
The oldest villagers would only have been children back then but he didn't collect his payment and never ever returned.