A/N: I own nothing.

The sound of steel against steel rang through the forest as Emma clashed with Cormac, for what had to have been the thousandth time. It had been a little over three years since she had completed her trials and Emma had only gotten better. She realized now how much Cormac had to have been holding back against her before she had completed them. Learning to fight while carrying swords on your back and while wearing armor, light armor granted but armor all the same was incredibly difficult.

Cormac swung fully using both hands bringing his blade all the way down to the ground as Emma sidestepped the swing, bringing her sword over her head she parried the next blow side-ways she spun around bringing her sword grip to a reverse she pointed the blade directly at him and struck forward. Bringing his blade up to knock her strike to the side and brought his blade up for an overhead strike, she stepped backwards and waited for the blade to reach hip level and then dove over the blade behind him, as she rolled back to a standing position she pirouetted her body swinging her sword in a circle blocking the lunge he had aimed for her stomach as she spun she made an almost imperceptible sign with her right, free hand.

The air around her came alight with fire in a trail that followed her hand in the full 360 degrees of Igni. Cormac only having a second to react pointed his sword at the ground and dug it into the dirt and an orange bubble surrounded his body, the flame was repelled by the aura. The orange bubble died out as the flames did and he brought his blade to strike horizontally Emma parried his blade up and he immediately brought it back down for an overhead strike. She met the blade with her own and the two were locked in a battle of strength. Cormac would win at strength every time, even though Emma's was increased thanks to her trials, his had done the same, he was stronger still.

Breaking from the battle she unlocked her sword from his and pirouetted behind him bringing her sword to a two handed forward grip, he spun on his heel as well swinging his sword to her side, pirouetting again bringing her sword the full 360 degrees again she knocked his blade away then she reversed her motion bringing her blade towards his unprotected side bringing his blade into a reverse grip he switched hands and their blades met once again. Emma's strike bounced off of his spinning again but before she could complete the motion, she felt an invisible force send her flying several feet backwards, not one to lose so quickly she used it to roll to her feet.

She ran towards him and he did the same their swords met with a familiar clash of sound, she brought her sword toward his face striking from right to left, which he parried, then brought it to the same target only swinging from left to right this time. He brought his attack aiming for her neck swinging widely in a full arc, as she ducked underneath only inches from each other she pulled herself upright swinging on the same wide arc he had moments ago, he mimicked her and ducked underneath. She spun on her heels sword in a downward grip knocked his sword away from her, she spun into a kneeling position aiming a strike for his knees, he brought his sword low to block. Using her momentum to his advantage, he deflected her sword bringing her to a standing position, their blades met again for a low strike, he then brought his blade across for another wide arc, she spun on her heel and leaned her head back watching as the blade passed over her face, feeling the wind itself break from the speed and strength of the action. As she finished her spin with two hands, she brought her blade downward and then straight up vertically, he parried the blow upward and pirouetted out of the way finally bringing the blade toward her middle horizontally, the blade struck true.

Emma gripped her stomach as she backed away, the blades were blunted but still hurt, Cormac finished his spin and held his sword straight up, he tilted his head in question and Emma shook her head.

Gripping her sword in her right her at her side, she raced to her mentor and he did the same, he wound up his strike as he ran toward her, raising her sword to eye level just as her blade was about to meet his she ducked underneath the blow and slid under the strike behind him, jumping up into a spin swinging her blade in a full circle again. He turned around just in time, but he wasn't ready to meet the full strength of her strike, attempting to parry the blow, his sword was knocked out of his hand as she completed her spin, her blade came to touch his neck but stopped there.

"Looks like I win." Emma grinned and she pulled her sword away from his neck and put it back in the left scabbard on her back. Witchers carried two long swords, silver and steel, both strapped to the opposite side of the body to the dominant hand. The steel sword had a straight hand guard while the silver had a hand guard that faced downwards; even the texture of the grip was made differently for the witchers convenience.

"Not bad recruit. Due to my brilliant teaching no doubt." He rasped, Cormac shrugged his mouth, as he went to retrieve his sword a few feet away. The blades had been blunted but he had to get Emma used to the feeling she'd have in real life, both of her swords on her back and all. In the last three years she had improved immensely since she'd taken the trials, she was good, almost ready to set out on the Path. The Path was the official name for what witcher's did, when they'd go to different countries and cities and villages looking for contracts. Emma was quite proud of herself and Cormac admitted to himself that he was too.

"Humility—a concept you might explore." Emma said readjusting her cloak.

"Not likely." Came his completely serious reply. It had been the first time in all of their years training together that Emma had beaten him in a spar, but Emma had learned quickly that bragging was not the witcher's way. She was so proud of herself for excelling faster than her peers at this, she truly didn't know whether it was something natural or whether it was she will to succeed that made her this way.

After three more years of intense training, among herself, Neal, Richard and Aubrey, she could say with some confidence she was the best among them. The more bookish art of learning, things like Alchemy and Monster lore came with time for her, but for Neal they were the easiest things in the world. Signs came to Richard and Aubrey as easily as the snows on the mountain. She herself excelled at combat, sword fighting, with a crossbow, name any weapon and she could fight with it. Just because it didn't come naturally didn't mean she couldn't understand it, after years of training to be the perfect weapon she was just as good at monster lore and alchemy, she could brew just as many potions as Neal had, just as well as Neal had. Signs were secondary, she focused all of her attention on Quen and Axii, the shield and the mind hex, just because she'd focused mostly on the two didn't mean her skill in the other signs were lacking, it just meant the skill level was more basic.

She could beat any of her peers in a fight, these days, but she wouldn't speak down upon their skill, they were good too in their own ways.

"You've grown a lot these past three years. Shown a lot of maturity, I think you're nearly ready to graduate." Emma really only heard the 'nearly' part of his statement and her ears immediately perked up.

"You said 'nearly' so I'm assuming that there's some kind of final test involved." She very nearly grew up her entire life at Kaer Gelen but she hadn't really ever heard of any more trials. Then again she had never heard of the trial of the medallion or the trial of the mountains but that hadn't stopped them from happening.

"You already took the trial of the mountains." Cormac began; it was more of an exam on everything a witcher had learned on monster lore and curses rather than anything physical. She'd scored nearly as well as Neal had on that test. "Usually the final more unofficial test is that the Witcher-to-be takes on a contract. I've heard tell of a contract in a military encampment to the south actually. The mentor's aren't allowed to interfere but I'll help point you in the right direction." Cormac stated heavily, it was finally time to see if Emma would sink or swim on her own, he had confidence in her but it was still nerve racking for him.

"But won't it be trouble if a recruit gets killed?" Emma was doubtful, she knew she was ready but she also knew throwing someone off of a cliff to see if they could fly wasn't always the best idea. "I mean our numbers are already few."

'It's 'our' already, don't put the cart before the horse, Swan, there's still one more hurdle left.' Cormac thought. "It's true. There aren't a lot of recruits that survive the trials. Your group was the most promising in years in fact." Cormac sighed. "But to answer your question, yes we do get involved if things get too wildly out of hand but we really aren't supposed to get involved."

"So when do we leave?" Came Emma's excited question, she was grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

Cormac's face was a blank mask, but there was something under his eyes. "Tomorrow, at dawn. We'll go back to the keep and you can get to packing and get some rest, it should take us some time to get there, even on horseback."


Neal hit the floor with a heavy thump, and held up two fingers in surrender. "You always been this good, Swan, or have I just always been this bad?" Emma held out a hand to help him. "Shit." He coughed.

Neal had grown into himself more and more over the years; he was calmer and less fidgety than he had been in years past. He had also become quite handsome over the years.

"Cut us some slack, Emma. I mean you were practically raised here after all." Explained Richard, seated on a bench under the shade of the awning in the courtyard, they'd all been training together, all morning. Since there were four recruits and four instructors things worked out pretty well, most of the time the training was one on one. Sometimes the recruits went entire weeks without seeing each other.

Aubrey nodded in time with Richard's statement. "Unfair advantage, I think." He said hopping down from the top of the awning where he was seated. He landed easily enough, Richard had grown to be the biggest of them, almost a mass of pure muscle, but Emma knew that's where his weakness lay, he was slowed down by all of that muscle. He'd shaved his head as well, it's length often got in the way while he was fighting so he did away with it all together.

Emma however simply kept her hair in a ponytail unless she was asleep or bathing, she'd always hated the idea of cutting her hair for whatever reason. Maybe because it was so cold at Kaer Gelen during the winters, she placed their practice weapons on the weapon rack and walked back over to her friends.

"Do any of you want to challenge my rule?" Emma taunted, knowing that none of them would really want to face her, she was the best and they knew it.

Aubrey watched over the scene with an analytical eye, Emma was the best at the school and they all knew it. In terms of combat and alchemy, as well as tracking she was a master, and he knew that Neal was the only one who could hold a candle to her but he had just gotten thrown around like a rag doll. So he simply held his hands up in surrender knowing how it most definitely end for him. Aubrey had come to the school the latest out of all of them but had still taken the trials at the same time as they had. He'd received considerably less training than any of them when he'd gone for the trials so; he still had a little while longer to go before he could graduate so to speak.

Aubrey had been apprenticed to an apothecary who lived just outside of his village when he was taken as an as apprentice so he had a lot of skill when it came to alchemy even before he'd started training. Alchemy could be just as important as swordplay when it came to living a witcher's life, knowing how to craft a bomb to blind your foe, or creating an oil to dip your blade in that would cause extra harm to werewolves was a priority. Richard looked like he was going to say something but then wisely closed his mouth, he was nearly as a good a swordsman as Emma, the hulking man, but raw strength rarely beat out pure skill, but he would get there someday soon.

After graduation probably, when the skills they learned here had been applied to real life. In a witcher's school there was no "graduation" per se, that was just an impromptu name given to it by the students. Once the witcher had learned everything there was to learn they set off on the Path and that was it, there was no piece of paper or celebration or anything. The mentor's blessing was given and then that was really it. Unlike most schools, once the witcher recruits got to a certain level of skill it was really up to them for when they wanted to leave. The mentor's trusted the student's judgment and the long years of training made them strive for perfection any which way.

"We'll have plenty of time for that after graduation, Emma, besides I'd like to see what we both fight like with some actual experience under our belts." Neal said shaking his head, whether he was being honest or just trying to avoid another beating, Emma wasn't sure.

"Speaking of which…?" Emma started. "Any of you guys ready to leave the school yet?"

Neal shook his head again, working out the kinks. "Almost just another few months, just need to put some fine tuning on what I've learned." Emma nodded, she'd noted nearly half a dozen imperfections in Neal's technique during their little bought. Though a normal person wouldn't take note, that was the thing about being a witcher, the differences between Neal's skill level and Emma's was nearly unnoticeable by those who weren't masters of swordplay.

"Still you're pretty close. Richard what about you?"

"Almost, just a little work on my alchemy and my tracking." He said with a sigh. "The last potion I created induced vomiting."

"That must've been fun." Emma joked.

"Considering I had to test it, yes. Yes it was." Richard said with a completely straight face. "What about you Aubrey?"

Aubrey let out an audible sigh. "Oh, sure I've just got to work on my swordplay, tracking, signs, archery…" He trailed off, his tone was long suffering, at the rate he was going it would take another two years to graduate, he'd probably leave by the time the next set of recruits got here. Wanting to change the subject he asked Emma.

"So, Emma what about you?"

"Actually…I've got my first contract tomorrow." They all stopped in place and stared at her with wide eyes, she looked incredibly proud of herself.

"What, holy shit Emms,." It was Neal who said this though by the looks on Richard and Aubrey's faces they were thinking the same thing. "Damn I didn't know you were that close to leaving."

"Neither did I, but this morning Cormac just kind of dropped it on me and…well." She gestured with a shrug, though she couldn't deny the happiness she was feeling. She'd known she was close, but not this close.

"Damn, I gotta catch up." Richard nodded and Aubrey followed suit, feeling even more left behind than before.

"So what do you know about the contract?" Richard asked.

"Honestly next to nothing…just that it's in the southern part of the country and that its been given by the commander of a military unit stationed there." She said folding her arms.

Two years ago Callorene's neighbor Kingdom Vebeth had invaded the country, unprovoked. Well not entirely unprovoked, after years of bad blood due to Callorene standing idle while Vebeth itself was victim of a brutal civil war; a bastard child of the late king believed he was the rightful ruler of the country moreso than his half sister. In the end the bastard child claimed the throne and led a bloody campaign against Callorene, who did not support his claim to the throne.

When they'd invaded two years ago, they annihilated much of Callorene's defense and took much of the south and the west for themselves. They however were not prepared for the winters of Callorene, after very nearly slaughtering the defense over half the country, they were halted by the harsh snows and after that came the hunger, and the two countries had been locked in a stalemate ever since. Despite being located in Callorene, witcher's had always notoriously been neutral, so they were given a lot of freedom in area's like this. The subject had been a spot of contention between Richard and Aubrey, Richard hailing from Callorene and Aubrey from Vebeth.

Wanting to avoid another screaming match between the two young witchers, Neal thought quickly. "Congratulations, Emms, seriously."

"Thanks, Neal. I mean that, you've all been such great friends to me."

"Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye? You haven't left yet." Aubrey joked trying to lighten the mood. He wasn't afraid to admit he was a little jealous of Emma's advancement.

Emma was beginning to feel guilty, perhaps for leaving her friends behind, or maybe it was nostalgia or maybe it was just sadness. Knowing that they would probably never be together like this again, because a witcher was a lone hunter, the only time witchers were really together in groups were when they were at the schools. Occasionally, two witchers would gather to hunt the same monster but that was rare. Really rare.

Neal pulled out a flask from his pocket and handed it to her with a nod. Even with the lid sealed she could smell the rum. She gave him a questioning glance and he just smirked, she pulled the top off of bottle and took a huge swig before passing it back to Neal.

If it was here last night like this she might as well enjoy it.


It took them nearly four days of riding to reach the village of Clearhill and the trip was exciting for Emma because it was her first time so far from the keep in years. They arrived at there crack of dawn and the village was quite a site, it looked fairly untouched by the war, but appearances could be deceiving; a large battle had been held at the beginning of the war and the army stationed there was having trouble getting rid of the corpses, though she and Cormac were miles away from the site of the largest battles, the enhancement of her witcher senses gave her the ability to smell it even from here.

The village of Clearhill was once well to do, being famous throughout the entire country for its fruit and wine orchards, but it was the first place that Vebeth hit when it attack when it invaded the northern country. The village was peaceful and had no formal military, just a few men paid by the lord to guard the fields so it was caught totally unawares when they were attacked. It was a massacre, and the lord and his small home were taken within the same day. The small castle was now the sight of the Vebethian army posting. The black white and red knight banner now flew over the village rather than the blue and black hawk.

It was quite sad, Emma thought as they rode into the small clearing that held a small forward camp, through the wooden defenses, large spiked wooden spokes pointing up from the ground encircled the camp, but left an opening at which two men stood on either side. In the distance, miles away to the north she could see lord's now derelict castle. She looked up to see that a number of holes had breached through the castle, moss was now growing in a number of cracks on the outside of the building. It stood massive, a tower of brick and mortar, now nothing but a memory of those who came before. These soldiers were simply the advance scouts of the larger force at the castle, which partially explained why their numbers were so few.

She and Cormac dismounted their horses simultaneously and walked up to the two men guarding the camp, two spears they held crossing over each other blocking the entrance. Emma noted inside of the camp she only heard one other heartbeat within the camp. That was exceptionally strange, to have a forward camp with only three soldiers.

The soldiers noticed them and immediately stood up straighter. "Military Camp, no locals allowed without the consent of the commander." The soldier on the left said, all business, his garb was typical of those from Vebeth, red and black leather light armor.

"We look like locals to you?" Cormac asked with as much sarcasm as he could muster, gesturing to himself and Emma, they wore grey cloaks over their armor but that didn't stop their swords from being visible on each of their right shoulders.

The soldier on the right scoffed, he wore a helmet that covered the top of his head but that left his mouth and eyes visible. "You look like trouble." He very nearly growled.

"The opposite, in fact we make trouble go away. See, we're witchers." Emma said joining in the conversation gesturing to her medallion. The two men seemed to notice her eyes now, one of the telltale signs of witchers everywhere.

"A witcher...?" The one on the left said in wonder. The two soldiers shared a look and lifted their spears to grant them access. "The captain, Captain Leif Addelwold, is in the camp, just past us."

"You lot, from Vebeth can be nice when you want to? You learn something new everyday." Emma muttered flatly.

"Don't get used to it, Mutant." The man on the left growled and Emma narrowed her eyes, before she could respond, the soldier on the right ordered.

"To the Captain. Now." Not wanting to make a scene she simply brushed passed the two and into the camp with Cormac on her heels. He'd said he wouldn't get too involved and she hoped he would stay true to that. She could handle this.

In the camp toward the back right, a large pole stuck up from the ground and atop it flew the flag of Vebeth. There were tents in the camp and numerous cargo containers Emma noted.

'Much too much for these few soldiers.' Emma thought to herself as they approached the Captain. He had a full beard, typical of one from the Summer Isles, it was a reddish brown and a full braid as long as Emma's own hair fell down his head, his eyes were hazel. He smelled of sweat, sawdust and…copper. Emma noted, using her witcher senses was not a choice; they were apart of her now just as her enhanced strength and speed were.

"No one has been summoned today. So I can only assume that you two are here for a very good reason." The captain turned from the table he was standing in front of, Emma noted a map in front of him but ignored it.

"Perceptive. Emma Swan, Cormac of Antil. Witcher's." Emma introduced herself and her companion, he scowled at her jab and he seemed surprised at the two witchers' presence, but not shocked looking them over, he nodded his head. Cormac was then reminded of how much he hated his title, early in their training witcher's were asked to select a name that sounded like a knight, so as to make themselves sound more trustworthy and respectable. Cormac, had only been to Antil once and he'd hated it,

"What is it that you seek here?" He asked suspiciously.

"Hear you've got a contract." Emma explained, finding the notice in the village square was easy enough; no one was fool enough to take it. Waiting for a professional to show up was always the smart thing to do.

"Mmm. Yes, we've had some, manner of beast trouble us over these last months, some of my men, just three days past were on a patrol near the cemetery, they did not return. The next day, the gravedigger from Clearhill found them, recognized them only by their armor." He said shivering, remembering the sight, in all of his years fighting in this army or that, he'd never seen anything so horrible.

"The locals also, reported some…thing in the cemetery last month, digging up graves but I simply put it to being simple grave robbers. Before that the inn keeps boy went missing near the cemetery as well, but he has yet to be found." He cleared his throat, in either embarrassment or shame, Emma couldn't place it, but it didn't matter.

Emma resisted the urge to tell him how foolish he was for ignoring, the locals for over a month and moved on. "Some questions before I start, I need more information about this creature."

"Shall I bring you witnesses?" He asked, half sarcastically. "The only one to have seen this creature and live was the cobbler, she lives at the far end of the village, near the cemetery."

Emma shook her head, though talking to the man would be useful, she would get more information out of something more ghastly. "I need to see your men's corpses." The captain made a horrified noise in the back of his throat.

"What use could you possibly get out of that?" He asked nearly growling, he was being sentimental, wanting to preserve the dignity of his men. But to find this creature, this was what Emma needed.

"If I examine the wounds on the bodies, it'll help me determine the kind of creature behind this." Emma nearly sighed. "I have to admit, I'm curious, why do you even care about this creature?" Emma asked, before it'd killed his men, he'd have no reason to care and the notice had been posted nearly a month ago long before his men had died.

"Alright…fine we were to cremate the bodies tonight but…if it'll help, the bodies are in that hut down the way." He pointed down the road, to a small shack within walking distance and Emma nodded. "And to answer your question, the truth of it is, we crushed the Calloreni army here, and we've managed to work out a shaky peace between us and the locals, but they are still countrymen, are they not? How much would it take for them to turn on us, to say we are not protecting them?" He sighed and Emma nodded.

"Before we get started…there's one more matter. My pay. Witcher's don't work for free." Emma reminded.

"Yes. Yes. Since the dawn of time, no witcher has lifted a finger without pay. I'll pay you what's in the notice, not a copper more." The garrison at Clearhill was stretched thin, anyone could see that and Emma let her common sense take over; if she demanded too much, she probably wouldn't get paid at all. She nodded, 200 gold pieces was pretty fair as things went.

"Alright, time I get started. Thanks." Emma nodded her thanks as well and turned on her heel out of the camp. Mounting their horses they made their way toward the hut.

"You handled that well." Cormac said.

"Really. I think I might've been able to haggle with him a bit more."

"No, you were right not to. These soldier types don't take kindly to such a thing, were he a merchant or a noble, perhaps…" He trailed off and Emma breathed sharply out through her nose as they arrived at the hut, the stench of the bodies and their decay nearly overwhelmed her and she was only outside.

"It's time for you to take over, Swan." Cormac, said lowly, looking directly at her. Emma's eyebrows rose skyward as she looked back at him. "I told you, I'm here solely to observe. I'm going back to the inn at the village."

Emma nodded and reached her right hand out toward him, he returned the gesture solemnly. "Good hunting, Swan." She watched him ride west toward the village until he disappeared into the distance. She dismounted her horse and tied its reigns to a tree that shaded the hut, lone in that it was the only tree nearby; many had been burned in the war effort. It was then that she walked over to the hut and slowly opened the door, its creaking heavy in her ears.

Opening the door to the hut she was confronted with a number of smells, the oil in the unlit lanterns, the wood warped from years of being stepped on for years, the smell of fish; catfish lay on a desk on the left of the door underneath the only window in the shack. The sun's rays flittered through the window giving a small amount of illumination to the room.

She could also smell a number of herbs: fool's parsley, cadeline, cortinarius, and crow's eye. But atop of all of these smells, the one that overtook them all, nearly overwhelming Emma was the scent of rotting flesh. It was never a pleasant smell, especially with enhanced senses, a dead body; it was a pungent nauseating smell. Turning her head, she saw laid out on the floor where three bodies, covered by plain white blankets, she could still see the outline of the head, the arms, the legs underneath.

After a beat, Emma slowly made her way over to the leftmost body, and pulled the cover back. No matter her training, she was not prepared for this. Nearly throwing up at the sight of the man she could barely keep herself together, but cat-like eyes focused on their target.

Kneeling next to the man, she put her mind to work. She started at the head, noticing a number of purple marks on his neck she tilted her head to get a better look. She could see that the man's neck looked even stranger than that.

"…Bruises on the neck, crushed larynx. Strangled. Neck snapped." She concluded, after a moment she gently turned the body over and noticed a cut in the back of the neck. She moved her head closer to get a better look. "His bone marrow…it's been sucked out. Need a long, thin tongue for that." Turning the body back over with great care she pulled the white sheet back over the man's body and moved onto the next victim.

Pulling the sheet back down the next man, she noticed many of the injuries were the same as the previous man. "Except." She said looking at his arms, noticing long jagged cuts up his forearm as well as his pelvis. "He's got defensive wounds, put up a fight before he died. Saw what killed his friends." She said looking at the startled facial expression his face was locked in now. Pulling up the sheet she moved down the line to the final victim.

The final body was entirely different from the previous two. "One cut across the neck. He was the first to die, the one all of the way on the left was the second, knew what was coming but couldn't even get his guard up. The last was the one in the middle, tried to defend himself. Failed. But...the beast fed on the other two, not on this one…had its fill? Or saving him for later? Interesting." She made a noise in the back of her throat; even now she was getting a clearer picture of the kind of creature that was committing these attacks. Before she made any conclusions though she would have to talk to the cobbler and go to the cemetery.

Exiting the shack, she made her way back over to her horse, he whinnied upon seeing her and she placed her hand on his snout. "Whoa, there Atlas. Here." She pressed a sugar cube up to his mouth, which he accepted gratefully. Atlas was a young mare, just recently brought to Kaer Gelen before she'd left. She was a large brown horse from Antil, which was known to produce very fast, yet very unruly horses. Untying the horse from the tree she mounted her.

"Let's go girl." Then they rode off to town.

Clearhill was a beautiful village. It'd certainly lived up to the reputation that it garnered, it was no city and the people there were not exceptionally rich but still there was a beauty in the simplicity. There were to about fifteen houses, and a few on the outskirts of town such as the herbalist and the blacksmith. In the center of the town sat the inn and everything else seemed to be built around it.

Toward the edge of the village to the south, sat a path, it went on for nearly a mile and then upwards on a hill leading up to the cemetery. At the beginning of the path, parallel to it sat the cobbler's home. A modest, hut for one in such a profession but a home none the less. Outside of the house was a fence and two poles sticking up from the ground connecting back on the house on rope, numerous clothes sat on these lines. More importantly a woman stood outside, in front of these lines fussing with the clothes. Lost in her own world she did not hear Emma approach.

"Excuse me…?" Emma began and the woman turned around surprised, a witcher's footsteps often went unheard.

"Hm?" The woman began, she was old, 50 or thereabouts. She stood a head shorter than Emma and lankier too. Freckles dusted her face lightly along with a small almost imperceptible scar on her nose. Wearing a blue and white dress that went all the way down to her feet, Emma could tell the dress was old; family heirloom perhaps as the bottom was caked with mud.

"I hear you've had some trouble lately. Some graves have been dug up." Emma finished.

The woman sighed, but looked directly at Emma's eyes for a moment and then turned her head in the direction of the cemetery. "Aye, master witcher, but if only that were it…Every now and again the creature would come 'round the graveyard, devour whatever was fresh and then move on. Started again, none too long ago. Thought to meeself, 'just don't step out after dark and lock the door tight.' But then one of the young one's went missing."

"The innkeep's boy, right?" Emma prodded and the woman nodded her head.

"I'd heard something that night, like a whimper outside me house." The old woman shivered.

"Didn't come out and see what was happening?" Emma asked, not accusing, simply curious.

"D'you think me daft? If you've monsters, you need a witcher." She scoffed at Emma's question.

'That's sensible.' Emma thought nodding her head for the woman to continue.

"I did see the creature before it took the young one…must've been a moon ago now. I was visiting me man, bringing him flowers at the cemetery, was there so long I didn't notice it were night. Then I saw it, coming up the opposite side of the hill, out the forest. It were hunched over, and clawed hands and fangs!" She exclaimed retelling her story. "I ran before I could see anything else."

"Interesting…" Emma muttered almost to herself, eyes focused toward the ground lost in thought. Catching herself before the silence went on too long. "Helpful. I'll see what I can do about this beast."

"Thank ye, master witcher." The woman nodded her thanks and returned to her clothes. Mounting her horse again she rode off toward the cemetery, she was there within minutes and noted the wall of rock that surrounded the place. The wall was low only coming up to about Emma's hip; two slightly taller stones separated by a distance of about ten feet indicated the entrance. Emma noted several headstones, but even more unmarked graves in the site. In the center of the small graveyard was a small temple, only small enough for a few to fit in at a time. It held numerous jars and an altar sat at the center of it.

Dismounting her horse she walked into the cemetery, she, heard a growl, too low for normal ears to catch and a heartbeat, rounding the altar was a dog. No normal dog however, much of this one's fur had been singed off and it had a wild look in it's eyes. Emma held out her hand and the dog immediately bared its teeth, sighing she made a gesture with her hand.

Axii

A white glow seemed to shine behind the dog's eyes now and after whimpering for a moment the dog jogged straight passed Emma into the forest.

Wild dogs. Even more dangerous than wolves, burned and kicked but often never killed, would always be a consequence of war.

"Okay…time to get to work." Emma said and she scanned the graveyard for any clues, immediately she noticed a grave, the dirt looked loose, open. Walking over she knelt next to the grave. "Dug up. No tools used, though." The dirt on the side of the grave had been flung everywhere; it was too sloppy for a shovel or a hoe to have been used. Knowing there where no more clues to be found there now she righted herself.

After a few minutes of searching she found another grave near the small temple, the dirt had been overturned, several times. "Definitely, not using tools. Claw marks right there." Looking at the jagged slices in the dirt and at the top of the headstone. Noticing footprints in the dirt she followed them behind them temple where a large unmarked grave sat, the dirt had been loosely packed back onto the grave, numerous rocks and grass sat in as well. Sloppy.

Kneeling next to the grave, Emma observed the grave. "Been dug up…recently." She sniffed. "Smell of the cadaver's old though. Overripe. Wonder where that stench will lead me." Standing back up she to another strong whiff of the air and followed the scent of the corpse into the wood's on foot. Pulling Atlas along with her by the reigns into the woods, she began her trek.

The woods of Clearhill were quite peaceful, trees and deer populated the place once upon a time, but now all Emma could smell was the stench of wild dogs, corpse and burned wood. Much of the forest had regrown since the large battles had been fought, but wounds left scars and this forest would be scarred for a long time. After following the scent for nearly an hour, Emma came upon a small hut in the woods, it looked burned to a crisp, the wood had been blackened, but somehow the structure was still standing.

"A hunter's cabin…?" Emma wondered aloud, tilting her head. She focused her senses and could hear nothing inside, nothing breathing, nothing moving. All around her though she could hear the sounds of the forest, deer, birds, grass ruffling and the like. Walking into the hut, she opened the door slowly, tensing her body she leaned her head in and peered around. As she walked closer to the door her medallion began vibrating, more and more steadily as she made her way toward the door, tensing for a while.

Seeing and hearing nothing she made her way into the blackened structure. Moss grew in through the cracks in the wood, part of the roof had caved in and the wood still sat on the inside of the hut. Smelling it before she saw it, she looked up to see a cow's hide hanging from the scaffolding of the roof that was still intact. Very nearly tasting the copper in the air, she looked down to see blood staining the floor of the hut.

At the end of the hut, near a boarded up window she saw a large bowl, blood sat in or around it as well as a large butcher's knife. Kneeling next to it, she examined it. "Beast can use tools…means it's sapient. Or just plain clever." Emma muttered to herself.

Looking around on the opposite wall, she saw a cauldron, suspended by three sticks, above what looked like what had been a fire, the scorched earth and the smell were what gave it away. "Looks like someone's been doing some cooking." Peering into the cauldron, she saw bones, human. "A human femur." Noting the size a moment later. "A child's." Emma could barely keep the horrified gasp down, now knowing what became of the innkeeps' boy. Her medallion was shaking violently now.

Next to the cauldron were three human skulls, next to each other but each facing in separate directions. Her medallion' shaking leveled out more steadily now that she was near the skulls. "Human skulls in a magic circle. Monster's clearly drawing strength from it as a place of power. Gotta be a grave hag." Emma surmised, she remembered a number of things about grave hags from her lessons in Kaer Gelen but it would be best to consult her bestiary for information.

"Collected the skulls to channel Power through them. Confidence grew and it started prowling the village." Emma concluded, all of the evidence pointed this way. No way she was wrong. Places of power were places where magic was exceptionally focused and strong, they could either occur naturally or as a result of black magic. Witcher's had their own brand of magic, it wasn't actually true magic, but even she could feel the power in the skulls. She made her way back outside.

In Atlas' left saddlebags, sat a book, the heaviest thing Emma brought with her including her swords was her bestiary. Every witcher owned a copy, and they were available at a number of academies in the world, they contained information on almost all the monsters one could come across. Though the information wasn't as specific in books that came specifically for that monster it was good enough to serve the needs of witchers on the Path.

The tome was old, many of the pages yellowed, but it was more reliable than most books published now. Opening she pulled the pages back to the section on Necrophages, then onto the section on Grave Hags:

"Cremation, now that's one thing men could learn from dwarves. Burying bodies out in the fields, why, it's like laying out a welcome mat for monsters! Best-case scenario, some ghouls will sniff them out, eat their fill and be on their ghoulish way. But if, gods forbid, a grave hag takes to feeding at your cemetery, you'll have no end of trouble. -Jacques de Villepin, Belleford Academy.

Few monsters' names fit as well as the grave hags'. As one might guess, these creatures resemble aged, deformed women and loiter near graveyards and battlefields. Grave hags feed on human corpses and in particular on the rotten marrow which they slurp from human bones using their long, prehensile tongues. Once a hag has devoured all corpses within reach, she turns to killing men and burying them in the cemetery as she waits for them to decompose."

'Grave hags use their tongues in combat to grab or flog their victims. Claws built for digging up buried bodies serve just as well as weapons to rend flesh. Though clumsy in appearance, grave hags move and attack at great speed—sometimes even a witcher's reflexes are too slow to avoid their blows.'

'Grave hags are territorial creatures. Their lairs resemble caricatures of human homes and are built near burial sites. They venture out at night to hunt, stalking straggling travelers or mourners too lost in their grief to notice the setting of the sun. On rare occasions hunger-driven grave hags will hunt during the day. They are less dangerous at such times, for sunlight weakens them considerably.'

Emma read the passage to herself, twice over to make sure she didn't miss anything and placed the book back into Atlas' saddlebag. "I should take the skulls. Force it back to the cemetery. Corner it there." Making her way back into the hut, she collected the skulls gently and then placed them into one of Atlas' saddlebags. "That should piss it off." Looking outside, Emma noticed it was only noon and Grave Hags were not known to come out until at least mid-night.

"Got time to prepare, brew some oil. Drink some potions." Grave Hags were vulnerable to necrophage oil, she knew. She would have to gather the necessary herbs to brew the oil. Oils made of the right ingredients could be like a poison to monsters if used correctly, and she had enough time to gather it. Anything that could give her an advantage.

'Okay necrophage oil is made of the flower arenaria, rubido and bison grass…better get started.'


After Emma had gathered the oils and brought the skulls back to the cemetery, she realized she still had hours left until night fell so she did what any witcher would do. She meditated, meditation for witchers was a technique that was almost like sleeping, all they had to do was clear their minds and they would enter a state of semi-consciousness and could remain like that for hours. Cormac had once said he could do it for a full 24 but Emma had a hard time believing that because it was so hard for her to do.

Emma could meditate, for maybe six hours at a time if she was lucky but it didn't come to her as easily as it did for Neal. She was always too anxious, her mind wouldn't quiet, always ready for the next fight. She assumed that it was some kind of character flaw, but it was just who she was. However, sitting there for hours with nothing but her own thoughts to accompany her was not exactly helping her nervousness either.

This would be her first fight with a monster. A real monster, that'd killed, three trained soldiers and a little boy, what would make her different than all of it's previous victims? Her stomach flip-flopped with all of the nervousness she was feeling. It felt like a fire had been started in her chest, Emma's eyes remained closed but her face set into a noticeable grimace.

Emma was afraid. Much as she hated to admit it, for all of her training, all of the hours spent drilling, on the gauntlet, practicing, the trials, she could die. Right here right now, tonight it could all be over, all of her training for naught. Emma swallowed her nerves but they came right back up. Sitting cross-legged in the temple, she couldn't even feel the cold of night. Deepening her breathing she focused instead on the sounds and smells around her. The smell of the grass, the crops, the river water, the sound of the deer, the birds, even her own heartbeat, counting it's rhythm.

But she could not forget. She couldn't forget how terrified she was, how her body was trembling right now. How she was breaking out into a cold sweat at this very moment. How—

"Stole themm—" Emma's eyes snapped open and her head turned in the direction of the whisper, to the west in the direction of the forest, then she heard footsteps to her left, just outside of the cemetery. Shakily, Emma got up on her feet and walked outside of the temple, brandishing her silver sword in her right hand; spinning it once. Her medallion began shaking lightly as the footsteps grew closer.

"Thief, skulls she stole…my skulls ought to dig up her own." The whisper was coming from just within the tree line, beyond her vision, behind a tree.

Pointing her sword forward with both hands on the grip, Emma snarled. "Come out and fight, bitch!" She growled into the night.

It seemed to have worked as the beast came forward from within the tree line, the beast was just as terrifying as the descriptions had foretold. The creature stood hunched over while on it's back was a skeleton. It's arms were long and lanky, and it's nails were replaced by sharpened claws at least a foot long. Its skin was a ghoulish grey with completely white iris' and long overgrown fangs for teeth. Tattered clothing covered some of its body, but the stench was the worst. Like a corpse that had been sitting out in the hot sun all day, Emma nearly vomited but she steeled herself.

The creature attacked first, rushing forward with surprising speed, swinging it's long claws out quickly but sloppily, Emma sidestepped behind the creature and delivered a spinning strike towards it's unprotected back. The strike hit its mark, cutting the skeleton off of the creature's back as well as creating a diagonal cut from shoulder to hip. Emma backed away immediately but she was able to see the skin that had been cut literally steam from the oil she'd used.

The beast swung out wildly in retaliation but Emma had already backed away, rushing forward again the creature surprised Emma, as it reared its head back and swung it's mighty tongue out, pink, but covered with green venom, Emma dove forward and rolled out of the way. Not stopping for one moment, once Emma came out of her roll, she spun and struck the beast's unprotected side, spinning the opposite direction she hit the creature's back jumping and spinning downward she hit the Hag with a downward vertical strike.

It roared out in anger and pain and Emma though she'd won, but the thought left her mind as quickly as it entered it as the creature spun around, its tongue slicing Emma's armor but not breaking skin. Just as quickly it brought down it's arm for a diagonal strike which caught Emma off-guard and cut through her armor and skin. Barely jumping out of the way of another strike, she looked at her right forearm that was bleeding heavily with three long cuts on it. Emma hissed in pain, but she wouldn't stop now.

Bringing her free hand up she made the gesture for Igni and a fountain of flame sprung forward from her hand. A continuous stream of flame sprout from her hand and the creature brought its arms up to protect itself but it didn't matter, after a moment the Grave Hag caught fire. It screeched so loud she was sure that the entire village below would've heard it but she didn't stop. As she felt her magic drain from her the flame from her hands stopped and she did a jumping spin forward bringing her sword down onto the creatures torso. She continued her dance, whirling with her sword in 360 degrees.

After a moment the magical flame on the creature died and it seemed to get its bearings backing away quickly from Emma's latest strike, it retaliated with it's own. Emma parried the razor sharp claws and jumped away. Ignoring the pain in her arm with a small hop backward she was out of range. Pulling her crossbow from her back but hiding the movement, she allowed the beast to get closer, as it's arm rose skyward to bring down for another strike, she fired a bolt into it's hand and dropped the bow.

The beast roared in pain and retracted its arm to its side, growling at Emma. Just as Emma began to lose feeling in her right arm as well the hag rushed forward with surprising speed and with it's good arm struck at Emma, Emma barely managed to block the blow, it's claws whispering against her face, as she could feel a sting on her cheeks.

With one last motion from her injured arm she managed to throw the sign for Aard, an invisible force knocked her foe off balance for a moment, but that was all that Emma needed, with all of her enhanced strength in her good arm she swung her sword diagonally down it's body from overhead. The creature was struck so hard it spun around and fell to the ground with a final growl it fell to the ground and Emma listened for a moment. Dead. Placing her sword on her back with a long release of breath she reached into her pouch and pulled out a vial of an orange liquid. Popping the quark with her teeth and spitting it out she chugged the entire drink down in one gulp.

Swallow was one of the most important potions that a witcher could use or have. Even the witcher's who were terrible at alchemy knew the formula for this potion. Symbolizing spring and rejuvenation, the swallow lent its name to this potion that accelerates the rate at which wounds scab over and heal. As a universal brew, it is good on many occasions and additionally produces no side effects. Even after a few moments of drinking it Emma could feel some of the feeling return to her injured arm.

Looking down at the beast, she sighed, trying to release all tension from her body and it worked for the most part. Picking up her crossbow, she placed it on her back and pulled a large sharp dagger from a pocket on her leg. Taking one last look at the beast she knelt down and got to work.


It was surreal honestly, to have finally finished her first contract. She and Cormac rode together back to the small military camp, the hoods of their cloaks drawn up over their heads. Though quickly, she and Cormac noticed, they weren't there, the two found them easily enough, near the hut where Emma had first examined the victim's bodies. Though what she saw the soldiers doing made her shift uncomfortably in her saddle.

The three soldiers stood in front of a woman, Emma recognized her from when she'd ridden through the village, and she'd been trying to sell her wares at the market. Unlike most she'd greeted Emma with a smile from across the way, as opposed to the scowl, most people reserved for witcher's.

"For the crime of adultery, looting, and the deliverance of defective goods. By the laws of Vebeth and King Antony, first of his name, you are hereby sentenced to death by hanging or torment." The Captain ordered, though his voice was grim, Emma could see something else behind his eyes. The woman for her part hugged her own body and stared directly at the ground, shaking with tears. One of the soldiers Emma saw guarding the camp earlier delivered a punch to her stomach so hard the woman doubled over while the other set up a noose on a tree. Emma's hands gripped the reigns of her horse so hard her knuckles turned white.

Next to her she heard Cormac mutter. "Don't meddle, take the reward and let's just go." She could hear in his voice that he didn't like this either but a witcher's duty meant staying neutral. The woman seeing the two witcher's approaching reached up from her position on the ground and shouted: "Help me!"

The soldier shoved her back down to the ground, as they drew closer the Captain approached them, holding a rather large sack. "Knew you witcher's wouldn't scorn even our gold." There was definite mirth in his voice, Emma unhooked the large sack from her saddle and it fell to the grass, the blood-soaked bag slid down after a moment revealing the beast's hideous visage.

"Tough hunt?"

Emma turned toward him with all the scorn she could. "Tougher than yours." She growled, he tossed the sack at her and she snatched it from the air testing it's weight she put it in one of Atlas' saddlebags and began riding away from the men. She could hear the captain spit behind them as they passed but couldn't bring herself to care. They rode at an agonizingly slow pace. Emma could hear the woman struggling behind them as they dragged her toward the noose; she heard the woman cry and the noose tighten around her neck as she choked.

"Argh!" One of the soldiers shouted. "She bit me."

"Take her down, do it my way." She could hear the noose loosen and the woman fall back to the ground, as the dragged her back across the ground toward a tree stump. "Get the hammer."

Emma remembered a quote by Geralt of Rivia, the most famed witcher of all time, in the bard Dandelion's stories he'd had many great quotes but Emma could only remember one right now. She stopped her horse and breathed heavily. "Evil is Evil…Lesser, greater, middling, it's all the same. Proportions are negotiated, boundaries blurred. I'm not a pious hermit, I haven't done only good in my life. But if I'm to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all."

"Men. Stop." The Captain ordered to his men, and Emma released a breath she did not know she'd been holding. "Let's have some fun first." She heard him unbuckle his belt. Emma's head snapped back with fury and she dismounted her horse like a woman possessed, she heard Cormac sigh almost imperceptibly under his breath.

"Make it quick, Swan." Emma started to pull her steel sword from the bedroll on Atlas' back but put it back.

Stalking toward them like a wolf did its prey, the Captain turned around shocked at her presence was pushed out of the way so hard he stumbled and fell backward. The next man had his back turned to Emma and was similarly pushed down. The final soldier was holding the woman, which she could not escape. He released the woman in order to defend himself but it was too late. Emma made a gesture with her hand and Aard sent him flying several feet across the field. Emma turned to the woman who was now hunched on the ground. "Close your eyes."

The two behind her were still picking themselves up, so when the man she'd hit with her magic came rushing back toward her she was more than prepared. He raced over attempting to club her with a blackjack, but she simply grabbed his arm and redirected his weight throwing him into the other soldier. Grabbing the blackjack out of his hand as the Captain grabbed her from behind she smashed the blackjack into the soldiers face knocking several teeth loose. She elbowed the Captain hard enough that he was forced to loosen his grip, she spun around and punched him in the nose forcing him back, she pulled her dagger from her left leg pant.

As one of the soldiers rushed toward her she grabbed his arm and stabbed under his armpit, the other soldier rushed her and she knocked his fist away with practiced ease stabbing him in the heart. Spinning around, she swiped her blade across the other soldiers neck, he fell to the ground with a shocked look on his face.

The captain on the ground still clutching his face backed up with his hands, fear evident on his face. "Wha—what are you doing?!" he managed to stammer out as Emma stalked toward him.

She grabbed the front of his armor dragging him to stand as she thrust the knife into his chest. "Killing monsters."


Okay so here's chapter 2. That trailer that they had for the game was just to awesome not to recreate. Next chapter I think will have a pretty significant time jump and don't worry we'll get to the main plot soon. Please read and review.