Prologue:
In the free city of Onryx at midday an old man hobbled into the market square flanked on each side by soldiers, slowly he made his way onto a soap box and began to speak. "I see you gathered before me. Hungry, terrified, clutching your babes to your breast. Rabid and ravenous they bites and bites away. Men of the North, you stand at the precipice! Your kings have failed you, so now you turn to the Gods. And yet you do not plead! You do not kneel to dust your heads with ash. Instead you wail why have the Gods forsaken us. We must look into the trials we've failed long ago. In a time past our world intertwined with another through an upheaval scholars call the Conjunction of the Spheres. The Gods allowed unholy forces to slip into our domain. The offspring of that cataclysm was the nefarious force called Magic."
"Yet we did not banish it. Instead studying the vile kin for our own power and wealth. And the monsters at our door, the unholy relics of this Conjunction - the trolls, the corpse eaters, the werewolves - did we raise our swords against them? Or have we laid this burden on others? What so called - "Witchers" Stray children taught the ways of foul sorcery. Their bodies mutated through blasphemous ritual. Sent to fight monsters though they could not distinguish good from evil. The flicker of humanity a long extinguished howl within them. Once their numbers dwindled through the years, but it seems more have picked up the silver sword in recent years. Some still roam our lands offering their bloody work for coin. To this day they shame us with their very existence."
"The North bleeds always flogged by war. The battles are the Gods' whip, chastisement for our sins. Can we chart our course back into the light? Will we find the strength to banish the mages from our kingdoms? Unite under the warmth of the eternal fire! Nigh is the time of the sword and axe. None will fight this war in our stead! Nigh is the time of madness and disdain!"
Three days. It had been three days and four nights since they had set the man to the task of taking care of the problem that was terrorizing the villages in the southern part of their kingdom. As the sun rose through the trees reaching its peak at noon, its rays washed over the Kingdom of Snow White and Prince Charming; the Kingdom Of Nireth. The castle itself was grand, built over a great lake and connected to the mainland by a mile long bridge.
The large city, Merton, the crown jewel of the kingdom in front of the castle held many nobles and persons of import in the running of the Charming Kingdom was flanked on one side by the vast enchanted forest and on the other by the vast sea that spilled into the harbor. The castle and its city sat to the north of the kingdom, metaphorically so that they could watch over the rest of the kingdom.
It is also why it took so long for news from the southernmost part of the Kingdom to reach the port city. The swamps were near the hardiest part of the Charming kingdom, filled with monsters and fiends that would kill even the toughest of soldiers if the wrong steps were taken. Over a month ago a number of travelling merchants and travelers from the region brought tales with them. Tales of a monster that terrorized the villages in the swamp.
In spite of its danger several villages had popped up in the swamps over the years in its less dangerous spaces. Somehow the people of the swamps managed to make it work, but then troubling reports came in of hunters and residents of the swamps seeming to disappear for days at a time only to be found days later as a mangled corpse by a traveler or search party.
The Charmings were rulers that tried to help those that resided in their kingdoms as quickly as possible, so immediately upon hearing this they mobilized a unit of their army. The best of the best these soldiers were and handpicked by the King himself the residents of the swamp felt hope for the first time in months. Until the soldiers' bodies, or rather their body parts were found near a cave where they were camped.
The King and Queen were running out of options quickly so they went to the last resort, the last thing the Queen wanted to do. Hiring someone to take care of this for them, but not just any someone, a Witcher, a professional hunter and killer of monsters.
Taken in as children, often orphans or children of surprise, they are put through ruthless mental, physical and magical training to become the ultimate killing machines.
Charming knew of at least a half dozen witchers running around his kingdom, but at the time that the attacks in the south were becoming more rampant, there was one in the city of Merton, hearing from one of the members of his council that the man had just broken a curse over a haunted house in the city and was still at one of the inns. So the king had him summoned to his court and offered to pay him a thousand gold coins to kill the beast. A week later and the witcher had still not returned.
"Snow, I'm sure he'll be here, witchers are many things but I've never known one to turn down coin when offered." He assured his wife for what felt like the millionth time that day. His wife kept fidgeting in her throne and he forced himself to stop from pinching the bridge of his nose, he knew she hated that normally and she had been a tad moody lately.
Snow herself wasn't so sure, anyone who killed for money probably couldn't be trusted, and then there was the way that they looked, witchers' eyes honestly sent a chill down her spine. "I don't know David, none of this feels right, hiring someone to do this instead of our own people. It's not the honorable thing to do and what does it say about us? That we just hire someone to do it for us when the going gets tough." Snow fretted but in truth she was worried about more than that, none of their scouts had seen hide nor hair of the witcher after he'd left the city.
He hadn't been paid yet so he could still be on the job, but she was nervous he'd just turned the other way and decided not to do it. Instead of waiting for a man who'd never complete a job they could be looking for other solutions. Snow breathed a sharp breath out through her nose as David reached over and placed his hand in hers, she could feel the stress leaving her boy and she smiled over gratefully at him and just then their prayers were answered.
A guard, dressed in the blue and black armor of the Charming kingdom walked into the throne room and as he got to the steps of the throne bowed to them. "My King, my queen, the witcher has returned, he's just outside." He was new, it was his first time addressing them, they could both hear the quiver in his voice.
Snow put on her Queen face and David could see all of the anxiety leave her body instantly Queen hood suited her. "Send him in then." She commanded in a steady cool voice. The young man nodded and walked quickly to the back of the room and pulled the large door open. For the first time in a week they saw the man, he strode in all business, like he owned the place. With two swords strapped to his back and light leather armor. He walked up to within talking distance of them, not bothering to bow.
He had black hair cut short and his complexion was brown like those of his kinsman from the Islands had, his skin wrinkled into lines on his forehead and his nose hooked at the bridge, his lips were thin and into the same flat line they had seen half a week ago. A scar decorated his mouth cutting from his upper left lip to his lower right causing a separation in his beard Then there were his eyes, they were cat-like pressed into narrow vertical slits and a golden iris that seemed to have a very dull glow even in midday. Hanging from his neck over his armor was also a medallion of a cat's head with glowing yellow eyes.
"Your Majesties," he began in a raspy voice bowing his head a little. Only a little.
"Master Witcher! You return to us finally, we anxiously awaited you. You bring us good news I hope." David could not hide his anxiety and leaned as far out of his throne as he could without falling out of it. He wore a polite smile on his face but Snows faced was formed into a tight frown.
"Of course. I killed the beast that was terrorizing your subjects. I have the evidence strapped to my horse." He rasped pointing a thumb in the general direction of the stables outside. It took both of them a moment to realize he had probably taken the beasts' head as proof. It was all Snow could do to hide her disgust.
David cleared his throat after a moment of awkward silence. "Soldier," he began addressing the man who'd brought the witcher back to court, he immediately snapped to attention. "Fetch the trophy." He nodded and scampered off toward the stables. "If you could be so kind…what manner of beast was it that was terrorizing our people?" David got up and Snow followed suit walking over to the man.
"A fiend was living in the swamp, fiends usually try to avoid contact with humans but the hunters that discovered her attacked in their fright and startled her. From then on she would hypnotize her victims and lure them out into the swamp to kill them." The witcher Cormac reported and David and Snow remembered the images they had seen in books of fiends.
Fiends were walking mountains of muscle capped with horned, tooth-filled heads. Their size alone makes fiends extremely dangerous—one blow from their powerful claws can kill a even a horse with but a single blow. As if that were not enough trouble they have an even more refined weapon, the third eye located in the center of their forehead, which they use to draw their prey into a state of hypnosis.
Snow was convinced that they had made the right choice in hiring a witcher now, no one else could have handled such a creature. "Thank you, for handling this for us. I had reservations about hiring you at first, but perhaps yours is an honorable guild after all." He smiled then, for the first time since they had met him, perhaps it was even genuine.
"But," She continued after a moment, seeming to struggle for a moment with a question. "Are you sure fiends aren't inherently dangerous? It killed nearly two dozen of our best soldiers." When he had said that fiends normally avoided contact with humans it startled her, to think that human beings would start a fight with the creature honestly confused her and to be honest David was curious too.
He looked down at the ground for a moment, turning something over in his head and then looked to them with a patient smile.
"People," Cormac began, "like to invent monsters and monstrosities. Then they seem less monstrous themselves. When they get blind-drunk, cheat, steal, beat their wives, starve an old woman, when they kill a trapped fox with an axe or riddle the last existing unicorn with arrows, they like to think that the Bane entering cottages at daybreak is more monstrous than they are. They feel better then. They find it easier to live." He knew that the Charmings had outlawed the hunting of Unicorns years ago, but even so in other kingdoms they were near extinct, less than twenty left in all of the kingdoms.
He paused for a moment and then continued, "Don't mistake my words, however, there are truly monstrous creatures out there, there are cyclopses who terrorize entire highways, and then there are bruxae and ekimmarae, and other types of vampire who kill in order to live, griffins like to hunt humans and play with their food before killing it." He took a moment to look at both of them, David for his part had a furrowed brow, he seemed to be absorbing every word, while Snow White watched, her eyebrows slightly raised but not paying any bit less attention.
He rubbed his beard, the heat of the sun warming his face through the stained glass windows, and letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. This was one of the things he was passionate about; if there was anything he knew it was monsters.
"Well we thank you," The queen began, truly for his work and in his perspective on monsters. "Its certainly refreshing to hear such a position especially from one such as you." A monster slayer defending monsters, what would they think of next, she looked at David expectantly, he took the hint.
David stood up and walked over to the man, a heavy stride and when he came face to face with the man he stuck his hand out and nodded his head solemnly, the witcher did not waste time in returning the gesture. At least they taught manners during witchers training.
"You've certainly earned your pay, witcher." David continued and he gestured for one of the soldiers who had been holding onto a chest full of gold coins for exactly this moment. The soldier opened the chest for the witchers inspection the witcher stared for a moment as if deciding. Then he waved the man away.
"I'm not interested in gold today." He was staring at Snow, not at her but through her.
"Well we can't let you go without payment." David argued albeit half-heartedly, wanting to just pay the man and get this over with. "In gratitude, I will give whatever your hearts desire."
Cormac's entire body language shifted and he stared intensely at David. "Say that again."
"I will give you whatever you ask." David repeated slowly and Cormac nodded heavily tilting his head.
"In order to become a witcher you have to be born in the shadow of destiny." He began, "and very few are born like that. That's why there are so few of us left we're growing old, dying, without anyone to pass our knowledge onto. We lack successors and this world is full of evil, which waits for the day none of us are left. David you will give me…that which you already have but do not yet know about. I will return to Merton in four years to see if destiny has been kind to me." He addressed David directly this time. It was then Snow gave out the most shrill shriek David had ever heard from her and fell to her knees, David immediately fell to her side grasping her shoulder. Opening his mouth to ask what was wrong. He never got the chance.
"David—" Tears were streaming down her face now I—I was going to tell you." She hiccupped unable to form words now. David rubbed her shoulders in small circles to comfort her, hushing her quietly. The witcher stood a statue, his arms folded with a distinctly sad look on his face, and his nails gripping into his arms so tightly his knuckles turned white.
A tradition as ancient as the world itself, it demands that a man saved by another is expected to offer to their savior a boon whose nature is still unknown, both to the saved and to the benefactor. In most cases, it is a child, conceived or born whilst the father was away. The Law of Surprise was amongst one of the most hallowed traditions in any Kingdom in the world breaking it after the word was given was unthinkable, many even thought breaking this after the word was given could bring about a plague or a curse
The queen finally gathered herself. "I was going to tell you tonight. David…I'm pregnant."
She didn't remember her parents. Well that wasn't completely true she sometimes remembered her mother in her dreams, but upon waking she would forget what she looked like all over again. Sometimes she could hear her fathers' voice too, but it just wasn't enough. She looked out her window into the courtyard of Kaer Gelen, the witcher fortress located in White Mountains of the Kingdom of Callorene. Her entire life had been here, at least everything she could remember was here, and she wouldn't trade it for anything, except maybe a more permanent memory of her parents.
Emma Swan woke up and it was still the crack of dawn, throughout all of her training she had been forced to wake up at ridiculous hours, to where now it was embedded in her, she was an extremely heavy sleeper however, she'd learned this when Cormac tested her reflexes by pretending to be an attacker in the night. It took him near ten minutes just to get her awake. It had been nearly twelve years since Cormac originally brought her to Kaer Gelen, 12 years of training almost from the time she could walk she'd had a sword in her hand. A light sheet of snow had fallen over the castle while they slept, and it seemed to make the castle even more beautiful.
She was 15 now and she was finally nearing the time for her trials finally, and then she could become a true witcher. Cormac had told her that the instructors had nearly finished gathering all of the necessary herbs for the trials. Looking down into the courtyard and could see that he was already down there setting up the training dummies for the other recruits to train. With a grin she pulled on her trousers and wool jacket and ran downstairs to the courtyard.
Cormac continued putting up the training dummies and smirked, having heard Emma run down the stairs, without turning around he remarked, "You still step too loudly." She huffed and dropped the snowball she was holding. She looked to see there were about six dummies set up, meaning that she had finally graduated to being able to train with a live person.
"Using witcher senses is cheating!" She grumbled walking in front of him she grinned. Cormac finished with his dummy placing a metal bucket over its head to act as an impromptu helmet. It was then Emma ran over to the weapon rack at the other and of the courtyard underneath a wooden awning and grabbed two wooden swords. She raced back over and tossed it to him one of the swords. He caught it easily and spun it in his hand testing the weight.
"I told Argus to set it up so that Riordan would train with you." Argus was the head witcher in charge of Kaer Gelen, the school of the Cat, and the alchemy instructor, to Cormac's weapon and fencing instruction. Riordan was another recruit, a year older than her, with a messy red mop of hair, his parents had been killed by bandits who'd attacked his village when Argus had been passing through the area, after Argus had killed the bandits who'd tried to shake him down, Riordan had asked to come with him. That was about five years ago, Argus had become something of a mentor to him afterwards. Cormac folded his arms.
Emma blew some air out of her nose with a scoff, "Please, he can't even keep up with Alvin…" She paused for a moment and smirked at him, he raised an eyebrow, "or are you just scared to get beat by a girl and want to pawn me off on someone else." Cormac didn't budge and Emma let out a long-suffering sigh. "All right fine Riordan is a late sleeper, we've got at least an hour before he wakes up, can't we just go until then?"
He unfolded his arms with a smirk and spun his sword several times in his right hand showing off. Emma met his smirk with one of his own and spun her own sword until it was in a reverse grip, truth be told Emma was the best amongst their recruits, she took to combat like a fish to water, in spite of the fact that witchers fought exclusively with long swords they were trained to know many other types of weaponry to asses the advantages and disadvantages and Emma seemed to grasp this faster than any other recruit. She was ahead of where he was when he was her age.
Slowly they circled each other, Cormac held his sword in the traditional forward grip his cat like eyes narrowing further, when suddenly she bolted forward he jumped forward and spun her body bringing her sword against his as she landed, he parried the blow easily enough, turning her body forward she brought her blade against his again he parried this as well, using her momentum she placed her other hand on the sword and spun around her feet still on the ground aiming the blade straight forward for his chest, he blocked this but Emma continued to spin bringing her blade around for another swipe to his side this time. Cormac flipped his blade so the point was facing the ground and as Emma's attack was shrugged off by the practice blade, quicker than even most witchers could move he spun around bringing the blade with him when he came back around he swung his blade low aiming for her legs. Then Emma did something he was not expecting: she dodged jumping over his blade with a spin she brought her blade down aiming for his head, he brought his blade up flat over his head and her attack caught nothing but wood.
She smiled at him and spun her blade so it was in a forward grip now; they began circling each other again. With both hands on the grip she charged forward and swung low for his feet he brought his blade low to parry and quickly in movements too quick for most to follow she swung and he parried until she aimed a straightforward lance to his stomach he parried the blow and knocked her blade out of the way using the momentum of her heavy strike to his advantage she spun her blade so as to right the grip but it was too late. An invisible force struck at her body and she was sent flying several feet away landing on one knee.
Aard, witcher magic, signs, signs were a form of magic that were simple one handed sign gestures, they were not as powerful as a mages spells but were extremely versatile when used correctly. She could almost hear Argus' lecture: "Though they are not warrior mages who employ powerful magic, witchers can cast simple magic spells that can prove effective when used properly. Witchers call these spells Signs and usually use them against monsters, though they also have non-combat applications." Though at the school of the Cat trainers were more focused on the fencing training than anything else as opposed to the school of the griffin that had a larger focus on sign casting every witcher learned them the only difference was the level of skill.
Cormac had said in the past that he wouldn't use signs until she could use them too, in order to make it a fair fight. Obviously he had changed his mind, she had trained under him long enough to get the message, a monster wouldn't wait for a fair fight, and they wouldn't care. A witcher had to be ready for anything. Still she had to ask, couldn't stop herself really.
"I thought," she said panting, 'Damn that hit hard.' "You said you weren't going to use signs until I could too."
To her surprise he chuckled, "A monster isn't going to wait for you to be ready. About 20 years ago I took a pitchfork to the stomach, was on my deathbed for nearly a week, I was young and stupid. And you know what?" He paused a moment and pierced her with that stare that was infamous amongst her and the other recruits.
"It wasn't even a monster, it wasn't a soldier. It was just some peasant boy who's parents taught him that witchers were abominations." He finished heavily not taking his eyes off of Emma's. "Never let your guard down Swan not for one second because one second is all it takes." He got back into a fighting stance and smiled at Emma," Now come on, Swan it's time to get to work."
She began to pick herself up and before she could even fully right herself he was on her again in a flash of motion he swung low but not toward her feet this time starting low he pulled the strike up diagonally across her body, she met the blow and used the momentum to spin bringing her blade down for another overhead strike, "Ha!" she shouted from the exertion. He again brought his blade up flat over his head placing one hand on the edge of it to help take the force for a split moment her blade sat on the edge of his and that was all he needed using his hand he slid the blade off of his own she pirouetted away from him but he did the same toward her aiming a hard strike for he mid section she was able to block but the force of the blow alone made her stumble back a step. Long enough for him to aim a boot for her stomach she fell backwards but used the momentum of the kick like he taught her rolling back to land on one knee.
Just in time to see the overhead strike that he'd put all of his weight behind, Emma leaned back and Cormac's strike caught nothing but air and the snow on the ground. The sound of the sword hitting the ground rather than her head was oh so satisfying. She ducked down rolling forward as he brought his blade up pirouetting in a full circle, his sword following the motion. Emma managed to roll forward to his now unguarded back, he was still recovering from his full swing, she pulled herself upright and brought her sword vertically toward his back.
'Yes!' She thought, she would draw first blood so to speak, when suddenly her body, all of her momentum just gone, frozen in place she could only watch as he completed another pirouette and this time his wooden sword struck truck landing solidly in her stomach sending her a few feet across the courtyard.
"Oof" Emma croaked as she hit the ground leaning up and grasping her stomach, she panted heavily for the first time letting her fatigue show. Her chest stung from both the blow and the effort to get air into her chest, 'Yeah that's definitely going to bruise.' Shutting one eye tightly she breathed in a few deep breaths, "How?" she asked with effort.
"Yrden," He began, and she remembered her lessons about it Yrden was a magic trap. Multiple symbols are placed on the ground, forming a circle; enemies who enter inside this area will be slowed down or apparently even stopped. She looked at him, at his feet and saw purple symbols in a circle on the ground; only a moment after she saw them did they dissipate into thin air.
"An extremely situational sign, no doubt and for most users it can only slow down enemies or even arrows down, but some develop it to the point where it can stop an enemy all together, this effect only last for a few seconds but its enough. Most of the time." He added as an afterthought, he looked down at her and smiled down at her though her attention was more on her bruised stomach now, she was improving everyday, she had lasted ten more moves than she had just last week. She still had a long way to go.
He puffed out a silent sigh and cleared his throat, "Your trials are tomorrow and I daresay you're my star pupil of this lot," She managed to grin but it turned out to be more of a grimace. "Do you know why the witcher's fighting style involves so many twists turns and pirouettes?" She sat up and shook her head.
"It's because of two reasons," He held up two fingers, "Because one no one else can do it, a knight in full heavy armor can't because his armor weighs too much, but we witchers wear, especially at the school of the Cat wear lighter armor, added on that our mutations give us faster reflexes and speed than normal people, we are the only ones who can fight practically using this style." He put down one of his fingers as Emma nodded along.
"And two, because the way we spin our swords and spin our own bodies confuses anyone who fights us, they either can't keep up with the speed of our movements or their eyes can't follow our swords, these methods aren't foolproof but they are effective." This wasn't anything Emma didn't already know but even masters could fine-tune the basics and Emma was still a student.
He held out his hand and Emma grabbed it using his leverage to stand herself upright. She thought about it, about the trials being not even 24 hours away. She knew of course, as they all did that not everyone would survive the process to being a witcher. She'd heard from Cormac himself that only three out of ten who took it would survive. Only a few of the other recruits knew about that part, and were asked not to spread it around. The rest would be told tomorrow and that would be their final chance to leave.
Although none of them had actually heard about the trials until about two days ago, the recruits were exceptionally talented at coming up with stories about them. She'd heard a more than a few stories about how painful and violent the trials would be. She'd heard about how one recruit's trial turned them into a striga, which was impossible because striga were all female and as far as Emma knew in the history of the witcher's being founded she was the first girl allowed to join.
She didn't know why women weren't allowed to join; since she was being allowed to take the trial it couldn't be that women's bodies couldn't handle it. It was probably just something sexist like women not being allowed in the army.
She'd also heard that the trial had once turned one recruit into a nekker, another into a penitent, and even one about some half-dragon hybrid. Though Emma could really care less about these tales they were certainly fun to listen to. There were twelve recruits in Kaer Gelen as of now but only four in her group, herself, Neal, Riordan, and Alvin. She and Neal got on the best but she was friends with everyone else, her partner in crime so to speak. She really wasn't worried about the trial however and neither was Neal, in fact none of them were.
Many of the boys taken to become witcher recruits had nothing to lose, some were orphans of war or bandit attacks like Riordan, some were street urchins like Neal, others were kicked out of their homes because their family's couldn't afford another mouth to feed. All the same, the people, here, they had nothing to lose, say what you will but the witchers certainly knew how to pick their recruits.
"But all things considered…you've done well." Emma smiled at him, unused to the praise, Cormac was usually a pretty strict teacher, which made her appreciate the praise he gave all the more as it was few and far between.
"Now go to the infirmary and get yourself patched up, I want you to read Draconids: A Study before the day is up—appendices included." He ordered with a smirk, Emma did excel at the physical aspect of being a witcher, but he knew that he couldn't allow her mind to break pace with her body.
Emma barely kept herself from letting out a growl but she knew that would only add to her workload, so she simply shuffled off with sunken shoulders. 'This is cruel and unusual.' She thought trudging through the snow back to the keep.
'Draconid is a hypernym used to refer to a number of large semi-reptiles, usually possessing six limbs: four legs and wings. A subset of the dragon species, the differences between the two is usually noted in the number of limbs as well as level intelligence. Notable members of this species include the wyvern, cockatrice and forktail. Emma forced herself not to mentally scream as she read the same sentences for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the hour. She wanted to move on but just couldn't seem to which was really bad considering Cormac would most definitely test her on what she read later while she ran the gauntlet.
She stared out the library window into the courtyard, trying to get her mind off of the dusty old tomes she was reading. Riordan was running the gauntlet now; he was never very good at it unlike herself and Neal. The gauntlet consisted of several thin poles a witcher in training had to balance on while blindfolded. It sat on the far left of the inner courtyard near on one of the lower walls in the structure. In the center suspended by a tall wooden structure was a large log hung vertically. The witcher in training would have to run and flip on the poles as the log swung using only your ears really to detect where the log was, sometimes they were asked to treat the log as an enemy and given a wooden sword to strike it with whenever possible. On the left of the gauntlet was a wooden platform and set of stairs along with the rest of the courtyard and on the right was nothing but a scraggy cliff face. One misstep could mean the end for any unprepared.
The witcher instructors were not completely cruel they waited until the witcher recruits reached a certain point in their training to put them on the gauntlet, and then worked in stages until giving them the blindfolds. No one in her group had died, but she was sure someone in the past had, still in only increased their skill at fighting, and she was the best in her group undoubtedly.
"Head in the clouds again, Swan." She turned her head and saw Neal standing near the tall oak double doors leading into the library, he was wearing a simple white tunic and olive green trousers, she had seen him in the courtyard earlier but had lost track of him while she was staring a hole into the book she wasn't reading. He was a head taller than her, but it seemed she could always look right at him, never up at him. He had tanned skin and a tiny lilt in his voice that Emma had learned came from those who hailed from the Drevarian Empire to the south, an orphan begging on the street until Argus had found him and brought him back to the keep.
He had a muss of curly dark brown hair and the makings of a beard on his jaw and mouth. His eyes matched his hair and seemed to be almost black in quality, his body was lanky due to a recent growth spurt, he had become clumsier since he'd hit it, he had so much more arm and leg length than he knew what to do with. He seemed to be growing into it however.
She groaned softly, "I told you not to call me that." She said turning her head back to her book, trying to focus on the words. Ever since he'd heard Cormac call her that once he'd not been able to let it go, but it was reserved solely for her mentor. Neal had been relentless in teasing her and allowing the other recruits to learn about this was just as irritating. He got his comeuppance when he had been anonymously volunteered to sharpen all of the swords in Kaer Gelen. In truth Emma couldn't even remember where the nickname had come from it was just something her mentor had called her since she could remember.
He breathed out a chuckle, and made it infinitely more difficult to ignore him when he sat directly across from her straddling the chair instead of sitting.
"Can I help you with something or…?"
"You can," he smirked "We're going into the dungeon, and we want your help." Emma immediately got to wondering who "we" was but got her answer when Riordan stepped into the room behind the same way he had.
"Are you two out of your minds? Our trials begin tomorrow! What we need is some damn sleep." Emma huffed and distinctly turned her head down to stare back at her book definitely trying to ignore these two this time.
Neal 'tsked' with his teeth, "Emma, Emma, Emma, being responsible what the hell happened to the Emma Swan whose idea it was to go to the old witcher training facility," He stood up from his chair passionately. "What happened to the Emma who dreamed up the prank of the century to pull on Argus?" He was standing up on the chair now. "What happened to the Emma who wanted to run the gauntlet with no one watching over her!" He clenched his fist and closed his eyes.
"Look Emma, all we're saying is that we want to see all the stuff that's going to be used on us tomorrow, just a little preview of what's to come. I mean it is our last night of being human after all." Riordan explained and he did make a good point, it was her last night at least somewhat responsibility free, she might as well know what's in store for her. Neal sat back down and hopefully calmed himself down too while Emma rubbed a hand over her face.
Riordan was only a year older than the both of them, but no more mature, a year didn't really make that much a difference in the grand scheme of things. Suddenly Emma stood up from her chair with a smirk, the ancient wood creaking against the floor as she did so.
"Let's go."
The dungeons of Kaer Gelen were as the actual structure itself, the architecture seemed to give off the feeling that the building had been there forever; its architecture somehow gave off the ideas of both the classic and contemporary. It somehow gave Emma the feeling that the structure had been there long before her and would still stand be long after she was gone.
The dungeon was dark and old and dusty, and was definitely colder than the rest of the keep, probably due to the years of not being used. It fell into disrepair and every decade or so, Argus would decide to patch things here and there. Witcher's really had no use for the dungeon, they weren't soldiers, they didn't keep prisoners and monsters made for pretty bad ones at that. No, the dungeon was used more for storage than anything else; it's dark and dank appearance serving to ward off any wandering recruits who got any bright ideas.
Fortunately or maybe unfortunately Emma, Neal and, Riordan were not just the average recruits. They were all amongst the best that the school of the Cat had gotten in years, but that dungeon also held their future as well.
Emma held up her lantern to burn away the darkness from the landing at the top of the stairs leading into the dungeon, a pale white light fled in from behind the three recruits from the windows behind them. After taking a head count and making sure that all of their classmates were training in the courtyard. Three of the four instructors were also in the courtyard and Emma had taken note of Argus doing some research in his room earlier.
Meaning that as long as they weren't gone too long they could have free reign of the dungeon. They all knew that the tables were stored down there but none of them dared go look, the tables were surgical tables that the witcher recruits were strapped to to undergo the first of the three trials, the trial of the Grasses. Technically they had been undergoing a trial since the day they stepped foot into the keep. The Trial of Choice it was called, anyone at any point could simply tell an instructor that they couldn't continue and, they would be escorted to the nearest village and given a pouch of gold to help them on their way. During the Trial of Choice the witchers to be were put through extreme physical training, education in monster lore and a special diet of herbs, mushrooms and mosses. Some didn't survive dying from liver or heart failure but this trial and its training continued all throughout a witchers life. The Trial of the Grasses was the second and most perilous at least that's what Emma and her brood had heard.
Closing the door slowly the trio stalked down the stairs hyper conscious of even how many times they blinked. Their instructors had superhuman senses; they had learned to be a little paranoid, as they made it to the bottom of the stairs they saw numerous locked cells with bars on the door windows, when suddenly Riordan yelped.
"Shhhhh." Emma hushed staring at the top of the stairs.
"I'm sorry! I think I felt something crawl over my foot." He explained in a hushed whisper, frantic. His eyes flicked everywhere in the darkness making sure no one was coming.
"Will you both be quiet? This is dangerous enough without all the noise." Neal harshly whispered, he walked to the front of the group and held out his hand to Emma expectantly, after she was sure her eye roll was sufficient she handed the lantern over. Neal slouched his shoulders slightly and began tiptoeing down the hall, his companions immediately on his heels.
"I think it's down that way." Neal rasped pointing to the end of the hall where the corridor broke off to the left. Emma and Riordan nodded behind him but belatedly realized he wasn't able to see it. Silently they made their way down the hall and to the left down another set of stairs where the hall was much shorter but no less daunting at the end was a door that.
"Ok," Neal started. "I think this is—" He froze, they all did when they heard the sound of the door leading into the dungeon open and close. Frantically they all looked from one another with comically wide eyes, before Riordan shot forward and began to pull the door. It was long enough to rest and drag against the floor so luckily it didn't make too much noise opening. As soon as the door was wide enough to squeeze through Neal scrambled in followed by Emma and then Riordan, they all pulled the door closed as soon as they were through. Neal placed the lantern on the floor and threw his shirt over it to cover the light and Emma nearly began chuckling when she remembered Argus used to call him 'bird chest.'
Though she managed to withhold her laugh, they all stood there silently not even daring to breath, they could hear the sound of coming footsteps. Suddenly they stopped for a whole ten seconds, or at least what felt like it there was nothing, and then suddenly they heard the footsteps retreating and eventually the door to the dungeon opening and closing once again. They all released an audible breath and Riordan even slumped against the wall putting his head between his knees. Neal pulled his tunic back over his head
"Shit, that was close." Emma very nearly panted out.
"You said it! Neal, I told you this was a bad idea." Riordan addressed their friend but Neal didn't respond.
"Uhh guys…" They turned to him and in front of him they saw it, four rows of tables stacked upon each other, though one extra sat alone and in front of the middle row. Slowly Neal made his way over to it and began running his hand over it. In the light of the torch Emma could see three sets of buckles one near the top, another in the middle and the last near the bottom.
"What the hell…?" Riordan asked in a puff of breath. "Do they mean to torture us?" He asked angrily, of course he didn't know about what the trial actually entailed, actually seeing the table was harrowing. Emma had a closer relationship to her instructor than he, so she knew more, she was practically raised here, but the rest of them wouldn't know enough to betray them if they one day decided to leave.
"No—" Emma started.
"All that work for them to strap us to a fucking table." He grabbed his head and started pacing while Neal was noticeably silent during this exchange Emma ignored it however.
"For us to become witchers…they have to change us, our bodies. So that we're stronger and faster. This is how we do that." Emma explained calmly.
"Don't you think I know that, Emma! But gods I went through all that training all that pain and suffering for them to just strap me to a torture table and what? Perform experiments on me, I knew they had to change us…I just didn't know this was the way." He was hyperventilating now and a part of Emma knew that she agreed with him, but the Trials began to tomorrow and she couldn't falter now. She'd waited and worked her whole life for this.
She placed a hand on his shoulder and his head jerked up, his eyes wild. "We made it this far for a reason, we were chosen for this, because it's our destiny. You survived all this and made it to this moment because of your will. You can choose right now; you've made it this far, you can make it a little further."
He calmed slightly, ever so slightly. "I don't know…"
"C'mon Ri' it's been the three of us in this for years, don't worry about 'what if', what will happen is all that matters and tomorrow is the destiny that we've all been waiting for our whole lives." Neal was one of the only others that knew beforehand about the risk involved with the trials, Emma silently and seriously nodded to him.
Riordan took a deep breath and smiled shakily. "Ok. I know I can't turn back after all this…thanks guys." Neal handed him the lantern and smiled back walking toward the door pulling it open a small gust of wind knocked the fire out but they were each more concerned about the six foot tall instructor and head witcher Argus standing right in front of them as they opened the door.
"Crap." Emma grumbled and the smile slowly fell from Riordan and Emma's faces.
"Now what are three recruits like you doing in a place like this?" He asked sarcastically, Argus was the tallest and oldest of all the Witcher's in Kaer Gelen. Cormac had told her he was nearly four centuries old, as Witcher mutations also allowed for severely extended lifespans similar to mages and sorcerers. He only looked to be about 60 years old but his name was mentioned in several of the ancient lore books she was made to read so she believed it. His head was bald whether due to shaving or just being ancient Emma didn't know. He had a few wrinkles on his forehead and hazel eyes; his eyebrows had turned ash white from age as well.
Like all witchers he had two swords immediately next to one another on his back but also carried a one handed crossbow next to them. It was strange that he did so because witchers didn't typically use bows, but Emma supposed whatever got the job done. His eyes like all witchers were catlike a dulled gold with narrowed vertical slits that seemed to glow even in the pitch darkness of the dungeon.
"Unruly children! Each and everyone of you." He scoffed, "But it was good of you to come down here. To help your fellow recruit is something that I've only seen a handful of times in this place." He looked around the room and corridor as if seeing the whole place, taking in its history.
"Don't do it again." Emma wasn't sure whether it was the helping out your fellow recruit part or this entire situation; his voice was so flat that it was impossible to tell.
"Yes, master." They all droned out and he smirked.
"Now come on, it's around time for curfew. It's a big day for the three of you tomorrow, we're starting you're trials bright and early tomorrow." He smirked knowing that bright and early probably meant around 3 in the morning they all groaned.
As they all walked back to the main foyer of the keep, Riordan nudged Emma and smiled at her whispering a thank you. She couldn't help but return the smile.
It was funny that the butterflies would hit Emma now, rather than the day before or when she tried to sleep. She and all of the other recruits stood in a line, each in front of a table to begin the trial of the grasses, hanging above each table were three flasks, the bottom was large holding liquids, the first and largest was red, then blue, then the smallest was gold. Each flasks opening narrowed out into a point rather than opening up not unlike a needle.
To the front of them stood Argus with his arms folded and eyes appraising. Next to him was another witcher Dain, she hadn't seen him around for the last month or so, even though he was a instructor, he had been running around the mountain and it's surrounding valleys gathering the necessary herbs for the trials. He was the alchemy instructor. Behind them stood Cormac and Rulf, Rulf was the only one of the four who looked worried, and on either side of Emma stood Riordan and Neal.
Suddenly after minutes of heavy silence Argus began. "Here we are at the beginning and the end. The end of your old life and the beginning of the new, for years you've been learning to fight as a witcher but to actually be a witcher is something else entirely. Each and every one of you have your reasons for wanting to be a witcher, for some it's destiny, for others its vengeance. But today and everyday from here none of that matters, each of us has our own Paths to walk. The first steps are always the hardest, as you will learn today. These trials can kill you." He warned.
Argus fixed all of the witchers to be with a stare. Some showed wariness, others, terror and some showed nothing.
"Monsters, no matter the reasons we all came here it all comes down to one thing: Monsters, the things we are sworn to hunt. I know that all of you came to this castle of your own accord, and we've given you every opportunity to leave if that is your wish. But choose today and choose wisely. In a few years you may come to regret the decision you made. Know that once you have started on this path that there may be no turning back."
Nearly all twelve of the recruits started shifting in place, second-guessing their choices that led them up to this point. Emma herself found herself thinking of different lives she could live. Was it really this? Was this all there was? Condemning herself to this life of monster hunting, to not having a family?
Did becoming a witcher mean sacrificing all of the happiness that might come her way? She could never have a child, never watch them grow up, never feel pride as they grew, or welcome them in the world. Never have grandchildren who would listen to the tales she told.
But she'd come so far, so far in her training, her destiny, to become a witcher and not only a witcher but the first female one as well. If she chose to back out now, how many people would she be condemning to death in the future, by not choosing the hard road now. How many people had Cormac saved from monsters, how many were better off for it? If she chose to leave now, after all of this she would have to get up in the morning everyday and look at herself, thinking 'coward', the easy road had never been for her and she wouldn't start now.
"Cormac," she whispered, "Tell me about my parents when this is done." Not looking back at him but keeping her eyes straight forward where they were she couldn't see his relieved smile.
"Have you made up your minds?" Argus asked looking them over one by one, Emma set her jaw. "How many wish to walk the Path of the Cat?" he asked and one by one the recruits raised their hands and Emma knew she couldn't back down now.
"I don't."
Emma turned to see the second to last person at the end of the line had called this out, all of the other recruits turned as well. One did not raise his hand, staring straight at the floor trying to hide his shame, his hands clenched tightly together. Benedict and Emma had never been best mates but she'd heard nothing but praise from Rulf as he was the only one who could compete with her, if it came as a shock to her, then it did doubly so for his instructor. She could see the shock on his face but he kept his firmly mouth shut.
For a moment a heavy silence fell over the hall before all eyes turned to Argus who nodded. "Very well, Dain will escort you to the nearby village, where you can choose to live the life you see fit. Whatever loose end s you may have here tie them up, you'll leave tomorrow." Dain escorted the boy out of the hall towards the rooms, everyone hyperaware of the door opening and shutting.
"Now then," Argus began heavily. "I hope there are no more of you who have had a change of heart." He waited a moment, when none responded he continued. "I'll explain each of the trials to each of you. Some of you already know this so I'll be efficient."
Emma made sure to listen harder for any information she might have missed. "The second is the Trial of the Grasses, in the past we'd feed the recruits several kinds of special herbs, but now we use these vials to inject the decoctions into the blood stream, giving us the same result but much less painfully. They will mutate the nervous system. I've explained the risks, as did your instructors before you came in this morning so those that survive will be gifted with drastically enhanced speed, strength and reflexes. Next is the trial of Dreams which will enhance your eyes, bones and various other aspects of your body to give you advantages over regular people. You will be able to see even in pitch darkness, you'll be able to hear everything to a butterfly's wings to a persons heartbeat, you'll be able to tell if they're lying or not. You'll be able to track by scent even after days of the scent being left there." Emma's excitement was childlike and grew with every word, her heart was racing but it wasn't with nervousness anymore.
"You've been experiencing the trial of choice for several years now but it's intensity will only after your trials. We'll have you go into the woods for days at a time to track faux targets. We'll increase the number of mosses and herbs in your diet to make your bodies more receptive to witchers' potions. You'll be trained day and night until you achieve perfection. The training will be grueling, but this is what it means to be one of us…what it means to be a witcher. So I ask again…does anyone wish to leave? After this there is no turning back." Argus asked seriously and when none rose there hands he smiled.
Emma looked at one of the boys standing next to her, Peter, his name was, he was smiling with wild abandon and Emma couldn't decide whether it was bravery or stupidity.
"Let's begin." One by one they were strapped into the tables, their shirts removed, though Emma kept her chest bindings on. Cormac slowly placed the needles into the veins in her arm, she gritted her teeth as they went in one by one. He scooped some olive and light green substance from a small bowl and held it to her mouth once he was done. She opened her mouth and accepted it, it was disgusting but not the most disgusting she'd had since she came to the Kaer.
"What was that?" She asked in a grimace, her eyes began to fall slowly.
"Hookweed extract to deaden the pain and Lemon balm to put you to sleep." She was already out. He folded his arms and his mouth set into a frown as he unlocked the stoppers in the flasks one by one.
"If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly." Argus said, unlocking the stoppers on Neal's vials. Rulf and Cormac gave him questioning glances as they began their work. "Vakmeth scene one act seven." He answered the question never asked.
"Don't let that worry set in, it'll distract from your beauty." Came Rulf's gruff voice, Rulf was the same age as Cormac, in the same group they became Witchers some 80 years ago. Rulf was an ugly bastard, two nasty scars on his face from a werewolf attack ensured that years ago, but he was the nicest person one could hope to meet. His hair was long and dark brown tied into a ponytail, for the occasion he'd worn a simple white tunic and dark brown trousers.
"I guess you must've worried a lot then." Cormac immediately shot back.
"Nope, I was born ugly." Came Rulf's lightning response and Cormac laughed without being able to stop it.
Finally he turned his head to look at his best friend with a smile. "Thank you…but I'm staying."
He pulled up a chair and sat in front of Emma's sleeping form. Wordlessly Rulf did the same with a sigh. He'd complain but he'd stay.
Argus watched the two with a slight smile and then his face transformed into a blank mask. "You two stay with the recruits, I need to prepare for the next trial." He had more than enough time to prepare for the next trial but everyone knew he hated watching, silently the two nodded. He turned on his heel and left the room as Rulf rubbed his hand over his face, it was going to be a long night.
Emma woke up groggily, slowly, the light from the open window of her room blinding her, she put her hands in front of her face and squinted her eyes. Slowly she got up from her bed and walked over to her window in just her trousers and chest binding and placed her hands on the windowsill.
"You're awake." Came Cormac's familiar voice, if she didn't know better she'd think it was relief that filled his voice. She turned her head, to see him at the entrance to her room; she leaned against her window and folded her arms as he moved into the room. His face was a mask of calm and collected coldness.
"I…I don't feel any pain." Emma said almost disappointed, after all of the hype of how painful the trials were she couldn't really feel it. In fact she felt numb. Her voice was croaky from disuse and she cleared her throat.
"Not surprising. You were the last to wake." He responded standing a few feet in front of her.
"Oh." She breathed out. "Then who…?" She didn't finish the question or didn't want to he was unsure.
"Eight survived. Only three dead: Peter, Emil and… Riordan." He finished heavily and Emma felt relieved that that Neal had survived, but Riordan, one of her best friends had died in the trials. She felt like a terrible person for feeling relieved at this, and she noticed that Cormac was equally troubled. Her entire body language changed, as she slumped against the wall and shut her eyes tight as she willed herself not to cry. He was gone just like that, and she couldn't even say goodbye.
"Come on its time to start the next trial." He sighed, he really hated this, but it was necessary.
"So soon…I thought." Emma turned her head slightly to look out of the window when suddenly Cormac threw something silver at her, she only noticed as it was inches away from her face, more quickly than Emma knew she could react she caught it literally as it was a hairs breath away from her face she pulled it out of thin air and caught it in her fist. She went to glare at him but then realized what she had done, her eyebrows rose nearly into her hairline.
'I guess they weren't lying.' She thought surprised.
"You've been out for two days, Swan, usually it only takes one for this Trial to finish. Argus told me you were getting worse, but I knew you were only getting better." Slowly Emma opened her fist and stared at what was in her hand, a witcher medallion, by the glint of the metal she could tell it was newly made. She looked up at him with wide eyes and he nodded, slowly she placed the medallion into her pocket, typically witchers were not given their medallions until they'd finished the Trial of Dreams as well. His confidence in her meant the world to her.
He walked over to her and handed her a vial filled with black liquid, she popped the stopper and took a swig nearly choking. "What the hell was that?" She coughed.
He smirked at her. "Should help with the numbness you're feeling right now."
"Oh. So that's normal." She finished the disgusting potion and handed him back the vial, he pocketed it.
"Well…it's within the norms. Nothing about this is normal." He responded folding his arms. "The potion also helps to build your muscles, it helps to make sure that your body and mind are aligned with your new reflexes, your body must be able to respond to the commands of your brain. It's also your first witcher potion as it stands."
Emma nodded slowly and silently still dazed and groggy but she could feel the numbness leave and the pain enter her slowly but surely. Her fingertips were already starting to ache. "…And Neal?"
"Is fine, he woke up a little earlier than normal and was in a lot of pain, but he's fine now." She'd known Neal was alive but as for his state of being she'd had no idea, she felt relief flood her body again. "Seems like, he literally willed himself to live in fact."
"Yeah. Well that's Neal for you." She laughed. Cormac nodded sullenly remembering Riordan, he'd woken up in so much pain that they'd had to kill him rather than let him live in such agony.
"Let's begin." Emma said seriously, no point in dragging it out, leaving time for doubts. She was still a bit groggy from having just woken up but she felt fine all things considered. "Where is this trial held?" She asked with a sigh, suddenly exhaustion overtook her.
"Well, right here." To Emma's questioning look he answered. "The first trial can cause a lot of problems, cause recruits to turn rabid, leave them writhing in agony and so on, this trial is much more peaceful." Emma nearly scoffed but held her tongue, he didn't like this anymore than her.
"You drink the potions and fall into a lucid dream. This trial will mutate your eyes, bones, bone marrow and gives you the necessary levels of magic to perform signs." He finished heavily, this wasn't easy but it had to be done.
"What are the risks?" Emma asked realizing she didn't know them, the question had come out on its own, she probably didn't want to know.
"Nerve damage, paralysis, loss of your senses instead of enhancement." Emma sat on her bed as he explained them nodding along.
"Well aren't you just a charmer." She sighed. "What will I face in my dreams?" Emma asked
"It's different for every person, some face themselves, others face their greatest fears, Rulf once told me he saw flying pigs." Though Cormac long suspected he had lied about it, there was no reason to make the moment heavier than it was.
He pulled two new vials from his pouch and handed the first to Emma, it was green, almost the color of olives. "Drink the whole thing and don't stop." She pulled the stopper with her teeth and tilted her head back pouring the liquid down her throat; she realized belatedly how much it burned and how much she did want to stop. But she kept going, screwing her eyes closed.
She finished and wiped her mouth as he handed her the second vial, this one in a flask, much longer and rounded at the bottom. She growled low in her throat and snatched the flask from him, Cormac would have laughed were the moment not so serious. She gulped the thing down and realized this one was tasteless like water but was much thicker.
She lay back on her bed as Cormac stood over her looking down. "Don't die on me, Swan." It was the last thing she heard.
Emma truly hadn't been prepared for what this Trial had entailed, the Grasses left you with fear and anticipation and before she'd entered her dream she was beginning to feel the left over pain. This was something entirely different at least during the Grasses you were completely unconscious.
"Emma! Where are you Emma?" She was suddenly turned around and she was in a flat green field, it was very beautiful, the sun burned through the trees. On her left she could see a completely blue sea but she was focused on the woman standing in front of her. The woman was Emma's height, but older, fully-grown, she was wearing a beautiful white dress and her hair was long and dark brown but had her back turned to Emma, she was sitting in the grass.
'Who is this?' Emma thought, she'd never seen this woman in her life and slowly as though she were weighed down by the entire world she made her way to her one step at a time. She couldn't bring herself to look at the woman's face however whether it was the dream or the feeling of fear and anxiety that washed over her Emma didn't know. The shadow of a tree in front of them blocked any further hope of seeing the woman.
It was then that Emma noticed the child in the woman's lap, the woman stroked the girls hair gently, long and flowing blonde hair was strewn haphazardly from her lap and into the grass and she could see the woman's hand stroke it slowly and gently almost…
'Like a mother.'
The woman turned slowly as if hearing a noise behind her and as her profile began to come to light in the brightness of the sun, just as her cheek and nose became visible. A nose that reminded her of her own, everything fell away and the dream ended as she fell away into nothing.
Cold water splashed her face and Emma awoke with a start, nearly jumping out of bed. Seeing Cormac with a bucket standing over her, she almost screamed.
"Dammit Cormac! I told you not to…" Emma trailed off as she realized she was alive, more than alive in fact, she could see, like really see as though it were the first time. She could see how deep Cormac's scars went and his pores. She could hear his heartbeat and the near silent steps of witchers out in the hall to the stray cat that sometimes liked to run through the courtyard. She could smell the mint on Cormac's teeth, the smells of the potions still in his pocket, even the smell of the leather of Neal's boots down the hall. 'Holy Gods.'
She looked down at the small pool of water and realized that her eyes were like his, a dulled gold with narrow vertical slits. She grinned at her reflection and then up at him.
"Put it on." After a moment Emma realized what he meant and reached into her pocket pulling out the silver cat's head medallion she put the chain around her neck. She realized that the moon's pale light was shining in the room now and she pulled a shirt from under her bed and pulled it over her head.
"I made it." She breathed unbelieving, she knew this was her destiny, but after the twelve-year journey she'd finally reached her destination, everything felt surreal.
"You did." He said unable to keep the smile from his face.
"Did Neal…?" She started but didn't finish unable to voice her question.
"He made it…passed out from exhaustion a few hours ago. He'll be fine after he gets some sleep. Aubrey from Rulf's group and Richard from Dain's group also made it." He added.
"I thought the number was three out of ten, not four? Not that I'm not happy, just surprised." Emma asked as she pulled her medallion to hang out of her shirt.
"It's rare but not unheard of, in my group five survived." Cormac didn't mention that all except him and Rulf had died later that year but it was still poignant. Despite the fact that Emma spent most of the last two days sleeping she was still exhausted. She couldn't resist the heavy yawn that escaped her throat.
"Get some sleep Swan, we'll give the four of you a few days to get acclimated to your new bodies, but that's when the real work begins." He spun on his heel and left the room closing the door behind him. Emma smiled at his retreating form.
"Cool."
Just a stupid idea i couldn't get get out of my head okay so here's the first chapter. Upon writing this I realized something weird, Emma doesn't have any friends, think about it the only people she hangs out with are her parents, Henry, Regina(sometimes friend sometimes enemy adoptive mother of her kid.),Hook(love interest). Because Neal is dead and Ruby was written off but we never really see her like...around anyone else. Anyway I hope you liked it, more soon. If you were wondering, yes this is a repost with a few changes.