He looks back at the fire, still turning the goblet, before opening his mouth again. "'Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard," he says, the words familiar, falling easily off his tongue. "The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deireádh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of Elder Blood, of Hen Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but burst into flame."
The witcher looks back to her, expression shuttered. "Aen Ithlinnespeath," he tells her. "The prophecy of Ithlinne Aegli aep Aevenien. An elven sage."
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He looks back at the fire, still turning the goblet, before opening his mouth again. "'Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard," he says, the words familiar, falling easily off his tongue. "The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deireádh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of Elder Blood, of Hen Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but burst into flame."
The witcher looks back to her, expression shuttered. "Aen Ithlinnespeath," he tells her. "The prophecy of Ithlinne Aegli aep Aevenien. An elven sage."