Chapter 65: Trials
I have been delayed.
As I write this I am trapped inside our families castle. Trapped I say because the thing that I want, that thing that I need in order for me to be able to properly show my face in proper circles has been delayed. The work people responsible have been suitably chastised but at the end of the day, the dwarf in question took the stance of craftspeople everywhere, sucked his teeth a little and said “We did warn you that the thing you want might be hard to get,” and “if you want a job doing properly. It's better to wait and get the job done right rather than waste it.”
They're right of course. Of course they're right. But that doesn't change the fact that I am still here, a days ride east of Oxenfurt when I want to be South. Where history is being made.
In Toussaint.
She hasn't been crowned yet. That is still a little ways off yet so I have time. But that doesn't help me. I want to be there now.
Not for the entertainments. I'm told that there's going to be a tournament but then, when do the people of Toussaint ever need an excuse to hold a Tournament. There will be contests of poetry, song, dancing, acrobatics and others. The Imperial portraits are being painted. The final painting of Emhyr var Emreis and the first portrait of the soon to be crowned Empress. I'm told that for a suitably huge sum of money you can watch the paintings being worked on.
Nor is it for the people that I want to be there although that is partly true.
Yes, I want to see Kerrass again.
Yes I want to see Princess Dorn again.
My entire family is going to be there. Emma and Sam are down there already. Sam to take part in the various tournaments and contests at arms as well as to swear fealty as Lord Kalayn. Emma is there in her official capacity as the head of the Coulthard trading company. Mark is going to be there although I'm not entirely sure how I feel about him yet, but he is there, both as part of the delegation from the church of the holy flame as well as being the Baron von Coulthard.
Francesca is going to be there. I can't wait to see her. I'm told that she's grown up a lot in the five years since I saw her last. We've written to each other many times but at the same time it's going to be no comparison to actually hear her voice and see her shining smile.
I am also looking forward to seeing Ariadne as well. I'm looking forward to being able to spend a lot of time talking with her. I feel that this is something that has been lacking in our communications of late. She has been so busy sorting out her own lands as well as helping Princess Dorn with her problems.
All the famous people are going to be there. It's rumoured that the entire Lodge of Sorceresses is going to be in attendance. That many Witcher's have been invited. That the nobility and hierarchy from both sides of the war are going to be together in the same room.
That's why I want to go. I'm a scholar of history. Even though the thing that I have been doing most recently is studying those events that are taking place at the moment and how they affect the world around us, this thing. People are going to be talking about this event for years to come. People are going to be asking each other, “Where were you when Empress Cirilla was crowned.”
But I'm not there.
As I say, I'm not going to miss the actual history. I have been “requested and required” to be present. Which is Imperial flowery speak for “You'd better be here or else.” My sister attached a helpful translation to the very rich and weighty paper that the decree came on.
This work is hosted on mananovel.com
It would seem that there are a number of traditions that need to be observed. The idea being that the outgoing Emperor has one day of un-interrupted governing before the new Emperor takes over.
The fact that this has previously been done on the point of a sword or on a death bed of some kind seems to have been forgotten by everyone involved.
The way I understand it is this.
Emperor Emhyr is stepping down as Emperor because there is too much bullshit attached to him being Emperor, too many angry people, too many assumed favours and tied up nonsense that would all just disappear if he wasn't Emperor. So he's stepping down. In the meantime he has spent a large amount of time and money making sure that all the people that might be there to plot against him, the realm or his daughter, are silenced. This means that Empress Ciriclla can come to the throne having thrown off all of the history of what's come before including her fathers past dynastic troubles, and can appear clean with a fresh canvas to paint our future on.
The Emperor reigns until literally, the moment that the crown is placed on her head. So right now, loads of people are orbiting the Imperial throne trying to make deals with Emhyr that they think they might not be able to get away with when they talk with Cirilla. The Emperor could do anything with that time. He could free or execute all the prisoners in all the prisons in the Empire. He could declare that it is punishable by death for anyone to wear yellow. But more importantly he could ratify the state of nations, declare that this person will be client King/Queen of this or that client country. He could make trade agreements or break them. All of which the new Empress would need to consider. If she simply disagrees with her father then yes, she could countermand those orders but that would be no consolation to all those prisoners who have just been ordered to be executed, for example.
In reality it is generally believed that now the Emperor has already dealt with his enemies and potential enemies that he and his daughter have conferred over most decisions and how those same decisions will be implemented.
But that doesn't stop the back room politicking or the deals or the handshakes and bets and contracts. Even if she hadn't been invited, Emma would have been there. It's that rarest of opportunities where she can talk directly with those people that she needs to see to discuss anything.
Our family has been invited. But also, I have been invited as a separate entity. I'm a younger son which means that I could have gone to be part of the general clamour and things but I wouldn't have been allowed to watch the coronation itself. Nor would I have gone to the Empresses party.
There is, apparently another tradition that happens beforehand. Which is that the person who is going to be Emperor throws a massive party. Less formal than the coronation but it's a time to get drunk and celebrate.
Kind of like a stag party before a wedding. Thanks for reading on ManaNovel!
I have been invited. If it was just the family invite then it would have been Mark with Emma. Sam is going because of his title of Lord Kalayn. But I wouldn't get in. But I have specifically been invited.
I'm only moderately terrified.
It's also at these things that the Empresses first decrees are made. By tradition these are the things that she wants to happen. Not for any kind of political gain or for the good of the nation but that she, the person, wants to happen. I don't know why this is the case. I believe it's something to do with the fact that when she has the crown placed on her head, she stops being Cirilla the person and becomes Cirilla the nation.
I don't know but regardless, these decrees are also kept fairly closely under wraps and are only really announced at that party.
We shall see.
Of course I'm going to tell you about it. I'm practically vibrating with the need to get down there and start chronicling it now.
But I can't because the thing that I want isn't ready yet.
Fucking Dwarves with their fucking “It'll be done when it's done,” speech.
To make matters worse, I know. I know that as soon as he shows me the finished article I'm going to be rendered speechless by it and instantly forget how angry I am and how frustrating the wait is. He'll look at me with the beard hiding his grin as he holds out his hand for payment, that he absolutely deserves by the way, and I will pay him without bothering to dicker on the price.
He knows who he is. I can hear him laughing even now.
So what am I going to do for the intervening time.
Answer some letters I think.
I know, I know. I really know how to party.
All alone in a deserted castle, most of the servants have gone off to see family while the ruling family are away so I wander about the place, footfalls echoing in the empty halls. I might have even gone into Oxenfurt while I was waiting but there I get the same questions from all of my old friends and Professors. “Oh Frederick,” they'll say. “Why aren't you in the south?”
I couldn't face that.
So anyway. The mail.
Again, thank you, all of you for your kind words and well wishes that come in in extraordinarily large quantities. My sister tells me that they letters wishing her and Laurelen well have been overwhelming in their support other than a few idiots who would rather speak with their hate rather than with understanding. All of the letters are read. Some are kept, some are given to those for whom they are really meant and some few are thrown on the fire. But there are a number of recurring questions that I thought I would take the time to address here and now.
Question: Why don't you just marry the unspeakably beautiful Vampire Queen. She's going to remain young and gorgeous for eternity so why don't you man up, marry the woman and stop moaning about having access to an eternally young and beautiful woman?
Answer: To be fair. This is condensing many different versions of this question into one form. Not all of which are quite as rude as this one but the sentiment is always the same. Why don't you just marry her? The answer is...complicated. But the long and short of it is that as soon as I have an answer, as soon as I know the reason, then I will be communicating that reason with the lady in question. Not you. Thank you for your concern.
Question: If you don't want her. Can I have a go?
Answer: My feelings on this question vary from “Fuck you,” to “By all means try.” I understand from her last letter that she has had to make her feelings on this matter known on several occasions. I don't know what this means but I will leave it to your imagination.
Question: Can you provide an introduction to the Princess Dorn?
Answer: You remember what I said about the Angry Dragon right? If not, let me put it like this. That young lady is more intelligent and faster on her feet mentally than you give her credit for. If you want to introduce yourself, feel free. But I warn you. She counts among her friends, in no particular order: A Witcher, a Vampiric Sorceress, a Dragon, the Empress, the richest woman in the northern realms and the best legal firm in the Empire. If you upset this woman, any one of those people will end you so fast you won't know what hit you.
Look, I don't mean to offend but, she woke up five months ago. She's still sixteen. Let her breathe for a while before sending her piles of gifts in an effort to woo her. I have it on good authority that she's not interested in such things and is having justifiable problems with personal intimacy other than from a very few people. Right now, she needs friends, not suitors.
Question: Can you come and have a look at this monster that I've found on my lands?
Answer: No.
Question: Oh please.
Answer: What do you want me to do? Travel all that way, look at it and say “Yep, that's definitely a monster,”
Question: But you know about these things now, you could deal with the problem.
Answer: Have you even been reading what I've written. No I can't. Kerrass deals with the problem. I struggled and would still struggle with a single Nekker or drowned dead. Let alone a nest of the things or a griffin or what have you. Hire a professional.
Question: But professionals are so expensive.
Answer: Believe me they're worth it.
Question: Have you met Geralt, Dandelion, Zoltan Chivay, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Triss Merigold, Keira Metz etc?
Answer: No.
I tell a lie. I have met the poet Dandelion and his business partner Zoltan Chivay many times as when we've been in Novigrad, Kerrass insists on staying at their inn. I understand that this is because it's one of the few places that are friendly towards Witchers. Mr Chivay seems like a decent sort although he refuses to play me at Gwent any more. Master Dandelion criticised my writing, saying that it needed more “dramatic flair,” whatever that means. I told him that I was a scholar, not a poet. He told me that I wrote to entertain and educate which is what a poet does. I've met him often enough to know that there's no arguing with him when he's in that mood and left it there.
I understand that he will not be at the coronation due to some past history with the Duchess although I do not claim to understand what that history is.
Question: Have you met any other Witchers?
Answer: I have. Fortunately this question tails together nicely with another question I received recently which is this:
Question: You once wrote that Kerrass wanted to take you to the North Eastern Parts of Kaedwen. This was before the incident with your family but after when you met the Countess of Angral. You promised that you would tell us what happened there but you never have. Where did he take you?
Answer: He took me to Kaer Morhen.
No I can't tell you where it is. I was blindfolded for a couple of days either side of our trip into that valley. I met another Witcher there although it isn't who you think it was.
It wasn't the White Wolf if that's what you're thinking. But I'm jumping ahead in the story. It's also that period where Kerrass and I spent a lot of time talking about the Witcher trials.
Just so we're clear on where this particular set of circumstances falls in the overall narrative of my stories. We had just left Angraal and were heading North, so if you're wondering about why I suddenly seem so preoccupied with “The Great Ariadne Question,” as Kerrass so mockingly puts it, that is why. This is also before we had learned of my Father's accident.
We were maybe a fortnight north of our departure from Angraal when Kerrass stopped the horses and blindfolded me. By blindfold, what he actually did was to put a sack over my head. He had warned me in advance that he was going to have to blindfold me as we were heading towards a secret place but even if I had been looking for some kind of sign that we were about to leave the road, I couldn't have seen one. It was a fairly boring looking stretch of road. Forested on one side, mountains off in the distance and where the scenery didn't consist of mountains and streams then it was farmland. Mostly consisting of sheep farms and cattle grazing. This is not unusual in Kaedwen as anyone who has been there will tell you. Kaedwen is a large Kingdom but I understand that part of the reason that it is so large is due to the fact that vast swathes of it are covered with mountains. The blue mountains, the fiery mountains and the Kestrel mountains all run through it. The other reason that it's so large is because of the fighting prowess of their former King. King Henselt.
For all of those arm-chair historians who would say something like “Well he can't have been that good if Radovid managed to conquer Kaedwen,” I would point out that King Henselt and his “rule of three” have proven to be most effective in the other wars against Nilfgaard, his constant aggression against the Elves and other non-humans as well as the to-and-fro of the aggression with Aedirn over the Pontar valley. All of which were hard fought with King Henselt only being turned back by canny negotiation or the efforts of his ruling council. He was backed up by the magic users however with a prominent school of magic being housed in the city of Ban Ard.
Indeed, there is even an argument to be said that the beginning of Kaedwen's downfall was when King Henselt finally lost his temper with the Sorceress Sabrina Glevessig and had her executed. If he had been able to harness that, especially in the face of Redania's anti-magic stance and Nilfgaard's anti-magic sentiments. He would have reaped the rewards in much the way that Kovir is doing now.
But I'm not here to analyse history. Instead I am here to talk about the Wiitcher trials and the great keep of Kaer Morhen.
So Kerrass ordered me to put the bag over my head. I was quite willing to put up with this small indignity in return for the enormous privilege that I was going to be paid. I was actually going to be taken to see the famed fortress of the Wolves. It has since occurred to me that it wasn't that much of a risk on Kerrass' part on the grounds that if they didn't like me, they could always murder me and dump me in a ditch somewhere where I would never be found.
But at the time I was still rather preoccupied with the look that I had received from a certain lady vampire and trying to figure out what that look, and her question meant to be thinking about such things.
The bag went over my head, my hands were tied together and then I was tied to the saddle so that I wouldn't fall off. We were already quite a long way away from any reasonable forms of civilisation and it had been a couple of days since we had seen anyone on the road. Signs of habitation in the farms and the odd shepherd, yes, but travellers? No. After the bag, Kerrass led my horse along easily enough. She was already well used to the Witcher and took his commands with relative calm. She was turned around in a few circles and then we went on. Beyond that, I can't tell you which direction we went, and even if I could, I wouldn't tell you.
I spent three days with that sack over my head. I know that the vast majority of the time we were travelling through thick undergrowth. Sounds of Kerrass chopping at bushes and things would come to me through the thick padding and he often had to tell me to lie down so that I was low across the horses back. Even then I could feel branches and twigs pulling at my clothes and hair.
We stopped when it got dark and Kerrass had already built up the fire so that I couldn't see anything out in the darkness. As I say, he was being a little overly cautious. I had no intention of bringing anyone else back here, even if I could tell the distance. I suppose it could be said that what I don't know can't hurt me and from that angle he was protecting me. I was under no particular inclination to argue though. We trained a little, ate and talked about small things.
Yes, Ariadne came up in conversation quite a bit but those conversations always went along the same lines.
“What do you think she meant by that question?”
“I don't know Frederick.”
“But why would you ask that kind of question?”
“I don't know Frederick.”
“Can vampires marry humans?”
“I don't see why not.”
“Can vampires and humans have sex?”
“I don't know. I suspect you will find out before I do.” He always used to say this line with what I considered to be an unpleasant and mean looking smile.
“Can they produce offspring?”
“I doubt it.”
“Are you humouring me?”
“Definitely.”
“Why would she be interested in me?”
“You're asking the wrong person, but believe me I've been asking myself that question for quite a while
now.”
“But What do you think she meant by asking that question?”
“Oh for the love of....I still don't know Frederick.”
And so on.
I can't have been a pleasant travelling companion during that time. I was fascinated. Ariadne had fascinated me and I couldn't tell you why.
I shall try to say what it was like.
I was terrified of Ariadne. In many ways I still am but I know her better now. But at that time I was absolutely beside myself with terror. But at the same time, she was a beautiful woman who had asked me how she would go about setting up a marriage with me. So on the one hand there was the terror of the fact that this woman was an incredibly powerful vampiric Sorceress, but on the other hand was the much more pleasant terror of the fact that she was an extremely beautiful woman.
But she was a vampire.
And so it went on and on and on. Round and round in my head. And it just wouldn't stop. Terror, mixed with arousal and other such basic impulses.
Kerrass led us on.
On the morning of the fourth day, Kerrass decided that I no longer needed to wear the sack and I took to leading my horse alongside him. We were still walking through a thick forested area but I began to see signs that Kerrass was following a track of sorts. He saw me looking and nodded in what I hoped and guessed was some form of approval.
In the end though we came out through the trees and into sunlight. There was no doubt anymore. We were definitely following a track. At first, just a line that you might guess the deer or rabbits followed to the distant sound of water that I could hear. But then it seemed to widen into that kind of a track that was more suitably labelled something like “road meaning that we could climb back on our horses and gently move along beside each other.” I now knew where we were even though the keep of Kaer Morhen was kept from my view and so obviously I was brimming over with questions.
“So why is there even a castle here?” I asked. Picking one of the many questions that was overwhelming my brain.
“I don't know Frederick. And before you carry on with things. I agree. It makes absolutely no sense for there to be a castle here and that's not the only thing that goes with the riddle of this place. As well as the keep itself which, when you see it, I think you will agree was an impressive feat of engineering. Three courtyards, a keep, a moat, None towers in the outer wall, a further three towers in the inner wall I think and the keep itself is no small thing to attack.
“But as well as all that, across from the keep itself across a narrow gorge is another lone tower. I understand the Witchers converted it to a Wizards tower for whichever Wizard monitored the mutations back in the day when the castle was being used. But either way, you would need to take that tower before you tried to take on the main defences.
“As well as that, this valley contains an old, ruined fortress. Much more ruined than Kaer Morhen itself. Three towers and a wall which contains many other building works. That would also need to be taken. Further into the valley there are other signs of habitation that are now mostly overgrown. But it certainly wasn't big enough to be a city. So what was the castle built to defend? I don't know and neither do the wolves who live there.”
There is a special joy to a mystery. Especially one which no-one knows the answers to it. It means that you can spend ages looking at it and dissecting it and making up theories. I could see my own fascination reflected in Kerrass' eyes.
“The Cat fortress is a much more recent thing isn't it?”
“Oh yes. And much less fascinating a thing. The Feline fortress is really a series of caves with little bits of fortifications to protect the more obvious entrances and exits. The stealth of the Wolven Fortress is that no-one knows that it's here. Other than mages who can send their sight around the world. Normally, I would think that that wouldn't bother anyone. So grand a fortress in the possession of a group of “magical malcontents and genetic freaks,” would send the royal arm out. But there's nothing here that would be worth the investment that would cause a castle like this to be built. Especially not so far out into the Kaedweni wilderness. I mean, yes. There is a small, I emphasise small, silver mine that the wolves used to forge their silver blades but most Witchers get the dwarves to make theirs anyway. Mine is certainly dwarven.”
“So this river must be...” I sucked my teeth as I tried to remember my Kaedweni geography. “This must be the Gwenllech river.”
“Yep. It travels through the valley and it's fed by a lake that's a little bit further up the valley.”
I nodded.
“Kaer Morhen.” I rolled the name round my tongue, trying it with different accents. “Kaer Morhen. Sounds Elven to me.”
“And you would probably be right. Near as the Wolves think it... It's a corruption of the elder speech where it should be called Caer a'Muirehen.” His eyes shone with amusement as he watched me role that phrase round my tongue for a moment or two.
“Caer a'Muirehen. Hang on. That would mean “Old Sea Keep.”
“I know.” Kerrass nodded. Not bothering to hide his enjoyment at my confusion.
“But we're nowhere near the sea.”
“I know that too. Wait till you see the little fossils of sea shells in the castle walls.”
“Ok, now I know you're pulling my leg.”
Kerrass just grinned in answer.
We were now trotting easily along the track next to the river. I won't lie. It was beautiful up there. We were now at the beginning of summer proper and the sun was bright, reflecting off the water which was clear and crisp. I felt good.
“So why would anyone build a castle up here?” I wondered aloud. “Other than the view I mean.”
“No-one knows. If anyone did know it was the ancient Wolven Witchers. Those ones that were wiped out when the keep was attacked and ruined.”
A small shadow crossed Kerrass' face as he said that.
“Sorry Kerrass.”
“Not your fault. Not mine either as it was done before I was born. But I still feel the guilt.”
I nodded. For those people who are relatively new to these stories, it is commonly accepted that the Wolven school was destroyed by a mob who were whipped up into a frenzy of anti-non-human fervour by a series of inflammetory pamphlets that were handed out and read to the populace at the time. There are any number of theories as to why this was the case and I won't go over them here.
What I will say is that now that I have seen the place, I would say that there is absolutely no way that an armed force could have taken the Witcher's fortress without the aid of magic users of one form or another. The thing that causes Kerrass' guilt is that it is generally known amongst Witchers that the reason that the mob was able to find the Witcher fortress in the first place was due to the fact that they had a guide from the cat school who took them there. Kerrass has spoken before about how he sometimes feels the awful weight of those young Witcher deaths on his soul.
A little way down the valley there was a short flat piece of land that seemed to stick out into the river that we were riding alongside. A large flat stone was there with a carved sword in the top. There several candles there that had obviously been there for sometime. I waited while Kerrass dismounted and cleared some of the natural detritus that had gathered around the place, moving the leaves and bits of twig aside and re-lighting the candles as well as adding one that he fished out of his saddle bags.
“What was that?” I asked him as we rode on.
“Grave of a young lad called Leo. I never learnt his second name.”
“Did you know him?”
“No. But it could have been any of us really.”
The conversation was shut down brutally after that. In truth though I didn't really want to pursue it. I was a little surprised at the depth of emotion that I was feeling coming from the Witcher at my side. In many ways it felt like he was coming home, that conflicting feeling of being glad that you're there along with all the remembered pain that the place evokes in your memory.
“So,” I said, forcing the conversation over onto a new topic. “Three trials to become a Witcher.”
“Yes.” Kerrass shook himself back into a better mood. A cross between being a host and a museum guide.
“Three trials.”
“The first trial. In general terms?”
Kerrass threw me a warning glance but I felt as though it was more done out of habit rather than any actual concern that I might be wanting to steal the fabled Witcher secrets at this stage.
“Without going into detail, the first trial is the trial of choice, or “The Choice” to give it it's grander term.”
I nodded, half listening and half looking at the castle that was just beginning to come into view.
I wasn't disappointed.
To be clear. This comes with a certain amount of...qualification. I have seen bigger castles. Both in terms of verticality and in area covered. Kaer Morhen is, or at least probably was, a lot taller than my fathers castle. But at the same time, my father's castle covers a wider surface area. If you held a blade to my throat I would say that Kaer Morhen is more of a defensive fortification than my father's castle is as, according to my armchair general skills, I reckon you could just about assault Kaer Morhen on two sides whereas there are only a couple of directions that you can't attack my father's castle from.
The thing that Kaer Morhen has that no other castle has in my memory or observation is drama. It's a lot more of a dramatic sight. You come round the corner and, well there it is in all it's massive grandeur and scale. It's huge and it hits you in the face like a mallet. That and the entire storied history of the place, the way people might gather in darkened taverns and whisper to each other “That's the Witcher fortress you know,” and all the things that “they say,” as in “They say that they consort with demons up there in that Kaer Morhen.”
If psychology is part of warfare, which it undeniably is. Then that is a significant factor about Kaer Morhen.
To get to the gate you have to go round one of the larger towers, all while being shot at, we came at it from the south, but I can't see as to how it would be any easier coming from the north as you would need to come round the gate tower itself from the north. All the while you would be in the shadow of the watch tower on the other side of that gully.
It's a terrifying place. A frightening place.
Another factor in this kind of thing is the fact that there are bodies piled everywhere. Skulls and bones poke out of the dirt and the grass from where they had been left to rot after the mob had killed them. They had been left, for whatever reason, and they looked or acted like gargoyles do. The static kind that you find on the sides of churches rather than the moving kind that they use to guard dungeons. “Keep out,” they seem to say to you. “Go away and leave us in peace.”
Some of those bones are very small.
The good mood that I had been in as we had ridden up the valley evaporated before the unblinking stare of those bones.
All the while Kerrass kept talking.
“The first trial is “The choice,” and of all of them, I found this choice the hardest.”
“Why?” I asked absently.
“Because it was something I was doing to myself. That's why it's called “The choice.” My tutors weren't particularly nasty, or evil. They saw it as their job to do these things and so do them we did. But they never hid from us the fact that we could leave at any time. When Witchers came and went to town to get supplies or on a recruitment trip or any other reason why a Witcher might leave the keep. We could walk up to those men at any time and say, “Take us with you,” and we would be taken to town or to a nearby village and left there.
“I met one of those lads once. He had become a professional soldier, a mercenary because he had been able to use a sword and was absolutely unsuited to do anything else. We always left them a bit of money so that they could get on their feet but this guy had spent it on booze and women and suddenly he was a tough for a local gangster. He became a hit-man, fled before the hang-man's noose and became a mercenary.
“I remember him as being absolutely without bitterness. He knew who and what he was but also knew how he had gotten to the position that he was.
“But yes, where was I?”
“The trial of choice.”
“Ah yes. So what it basically boils down to is training us and teaching us until we fall over and/or hurt ourselves. All the while we're eating these herbs and mushrooms and drinking this strange juice that actually tastes quite nice. Even when you throw it up all over your dormitory floor.”
“That's a lovely image.”
“Well, you know. Anyway. That's the long and short of it. What they're doing, as well as teaching you about the monsters that you would be fighting and how to fight them, they're conditioning your body to the point where you are fit enough, and healthy enough to be able to survive the later mutations. That's really what the herbs and mushrooms are doing. As well as the breath control exercises and the, you know, exercise. It builds up the muscle strength, it keeps the heart pumping as after all, that's a muscle too. There's even some people that think that, in education the young Witchers to the extent that they do, that renders the brain more able to accept the vast changes that the body is going through.”
“Interesting theory. Is this where people start dying?”
“Sometimes.”
“What do they die of?”
“Generally, heart or liver failure of the most extreme kind. They'll just be training, as they would be normally, and then they would clutch at their chests and just fall down. Sometimes they would turn yellow, start puking their guts up and expire that way. That was different from those kids who just can't take it and run off screaming. Or flip out and try to murder an instructor. Or just, plain, go mad.
“To be fair to them, the teachers and trainers would try to catch those kids who weren't up to it and say that maybe they just weren't cut out to be a Witcher but that was rare. Because it was a voluntary process. So if you thought for one moment that you couldn't do it. Or if you thought that this wasn't for you. Then you could quit.”
A thought visibly crossed his face then, it was just a flicker, a flinch like you would give if you stubbed your toe on something.
“Mental fortitude was part of it as well. It was something that they had to train into us. One of the kids that came to the school with me from our home village. Three years into it he just lost his nerve. We found him huddled in a corner, crying his eyes out. Nothing wrong with that, I had some nights were I howled the place down to the point where there weren't any tears in my body and no-one thought any the less of me. But he looked at me and said “I'm not sure I can do this Kerrass.” We told him to quit. There was a Witcher leaving the following morning for Novigrad for a herb shipment that had been ordered. But he refused. The following day, his heart gave out and he fell dead at old Nayhans feet. We stacked him with the others and got on with it.”
“What happened to all of those kids that died?”
Fast Navigation
606162636465
6667686970Congrats, you have read 43.3% of A Scholar's Travels with a Witcher! How high can you go?