The Witcher: Through the Worlds

Chapter 15: Family Matters III

Narrator: While waiting the 24 hours for the botchlings curse to be lifted, Dominik decided to take on a contract in the local village of Blackbough near Crow's Perch. Upon arriving the Young Wolf was reunited with his old friend, a Witcher from the school of the bear, Faram of Undviik. Together Faram and Dominik completed the contract, which turned out to be a werewolf. Now, with midnight fast approaching, Dominik set back out to Crow's Perch to meet back up with Geralt, Faram in tow. Finally, it was time to find out what happened to the Baron's family, and after that, Ciri.

"So, the botchling will lead us to the man's family, who you have to find to get his information on Ciri," Faram asked, his massive horse riding alongside Clop.

He nodded as they passed through the gate, towards the castle courtyard, "Yeah that's the basics of it. Geralt was watching the botchlings grave, should still be just ahead."

The night was silent, and he could hear the chirping of crickets. Crow's Perch was completely silent, except the fires crackling in torches, and guards making their rounds. The guards all of course recognized him and let him pass with Faram next to him. He passed through the courtyard, and saw Roach, already tied to the tree, ready to ride at a moments notice.

He looked over to where the night before, he had fought the wraiths, and watched the Baron bury the creature, and sure enough there was Geralt. He was on his knees, in a meditative position, his eyes tightly shut. He smiled, and pulled Clop to a stop next to Roach, the mare and horse happily neighing to each other again.

"There he is, come on," He said to Faram, climbing down off Clop, tying his reins to the nearby fence post.

He saw Faram slid of his massive horse, tying it to the fence, his eyes wide, looking at Geralt.

"The famous White Wolf…" He said, his voice sounding in awe.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at his larger friend, "Come on, let's go meet your idol."

"Fuck off," Faram muttered, suddenly seeming embarrassed.

He laughed at his friend, and approached Geralt, Faram following closely behind. The grave had appeared to be undisturbed, the torches crackling on the walls of the now destroyed barn. The clunking of he and Faram's armor, made Geralt open his one eyes, and he looked over at them as they approached.

"Geralt," He said, jogging over to him, as the older Witcher stood, "Wait till I tell you about the day I had," He said sarcastically.

Geralt smirked and then looked over to Faram, slowly walking up behind him, "Seemed like you had an interesting time, who's the big guy?"

Dominik smiled and turned back to Faram, gesturing to the large bear school Witcher, "Geralt, meet my friend Faram of Undviik, Witcher of the school of the bear. We traveled together for a while about a year ago, happened to take the same werewolf contract today."

Faram for the first time in Dominik's life seemed nervous. He awkwardly nodded his head, and gave Geralt a bow, "White Wolf, it's my honor to meet you. I heard stories about you growing up in Skellige, and even as I was training."

Geralt seemed to enjoy the recognition for once, he chuckled lightly and held out a hand for the larger Witcher to shake, "No need to bow. Pleasure, anyone who can put up with Dom's hardass gets my respect right away."

Faram scoffed and nodded, "Bah, you can say that again!"

"Fuck off, the both of you," He said, crossing his arms indignantly.

The two Witcher's laughed at his expense, but he managed to form a smile on his face. Other than the winter, when they all gathered at their strongholds, he believed this had to be the first time three Witchers had all gone on one job together. Obviously most Witcher's traveled the path alone, but having extra blades was always a nice touch.

Geralt finished up laughed, and looked over at Faram and he, "So, school of the bear, last I heard your fortress on Skellige was destroyed."

Faram nodded gravely, "Aye… terrible shame, lost some good friend. I'd have to say, only about two of three of us roaming around now, haven't seen either of them in years though."

Geralt frowned, "I'm sorry to hear that… so, I'm assuming Dominik filled you in on what's happening here?"

The bear school Witcher nodded, "Aye, he filled me in…. about everything, you, Yennefer… his woman," Faram said carefully.

Geralt's head shot over to Dom, and he met his eyes. Dominik nodded to his adoptive father reassuringly, "Don't worry Geralt, I trust him with my life, and my secrets."

The older Witcher nodded, seeming to accept his words. He looked back to Faram, giving him a nod as well, "Well, if Dom trusts you, then you have mine as well. If he's explained everything to you, then you should realize… we have a lot ahead of us."

Faram nodded in understanding, "Aye, I understand. We've saved each other more times than I could count. He, and you White Wolf will have my blades whenever you need them."

Geralt smiled, "Good, with what we have ahead of us. Extra blades, and skilled people wielding them are gonna be needed. That starts with this," He said, turning back to the botchlings grave.

The three Witcher's all gathered around the botchlings grave, as Dominik looked at Geralt standing between Faram and he.

"Nothing disturbed it, everything quiet," He asked the white-haired Witcher.

Geralt nodded, "Yeah, nothings stirred, Baron's been quiet. Let's hope we did this right, be ready if it doesn't."

He nodded along with Faram, and the two Witcher's took a step back from Geralt, as the older Witcher knelt down to both knees. In front of the grave he said a few words in the elder speech. The wind was howling in the night outside Crow's Perch. The ritual had to work. It was the only way now they could find Anna and Tamara and get the Baron's information about Ciri. He wanted to help the man of course, but ultimately the reason he was there, was for Ciri, and if they had done all the work for nothing, it would devastate him.

Geralt finished muttering words in elder speech, before speaking in common tongue, "By blood's power I summon you, with your name I beseech you…. Hear my call and rise Dea!"

Geralt raised up his hands, and for a moment his heart fell, thinking the spell hadn't worked. However, a bright white and green light began to come from the grave. Out of the mound of dirt, arose a spirit. It floated gently above the mound, a beautiful color of white and green. It looked like the twisted botchling, but he felt a calm, peaceful presence around him. The lubberkin hovered above the mound of dirt, before Geralt stood up between Faram and he.

"Lead us to those bound to you by blood," Geralt said to the spirit.

The sprit froze for a moment, before floating passed them, towards the exit of the courtyard. Geralt quickly turned to them both, "Thing's gonna be fast, mount up come on."

So, the three Witcher's did. They ran, and quickly untied their horses. He swung his feet onto the back of Clop, and took off, Faram and Geralt following closely behind. He felt his heart begin to pump faster, as he spurred Clop's reigns. The lubberkin did indeed move fast, but the three Witcher's on their mounts were able to keep pace. The spirit flowed down through the small clusters of houses below the castle, and out the gate to Crow's Perch.

Faram and Geralt kept close behind him, he faintly heard them speaking to one another, but he kept his focus on the lubberkin. It was going to lead him to the missing members of the Baron's family, and get him another story of Ciri, being alive and well. It meant that he could hear more about how she was in the same spots he was in now, and how she was ever so close to him. He would be able to find her and do a good deed for someone in the process.

The lubberkin took them through the small village outside Crow's Perch, To a trail leading into the countryside. After passing through a farm, and past another few smaller houses, it took a hard right, leading them up a grassy hill. Wolves howled distantly in the night, and nobody could be heard. It felt as if for that one night, the entirety of Velen had gone silent so they could search. The house they had finally come too, was a small, modest sized hut, with a yard to the left, and the smell had given away what the place was in an instant.

The spirit stopped outside the house, and he pulled Clop back to a stop, climbing off the back of his horse, Faram and Geralt closely behind him. He tied up his mounts reins and examined the area the spirit floated above.

He gagged at the awful smell, "Gods that stench, what the hell were they doing at a pitch burner's house?"

He heard Faram gag as well, as he and Geralt filed in besides him. Geralt took a look, surveying the small yard, "Well, it wouldn't have led us here without a reason, they must've stopped here. Let's look around."

Faram spoke up before they could move, "Already can see something, look here."

The bear school Witcher knelt down, rubbing his fingers through the dirt, "Tracks are feint, but look here. Horseshoe prints, no way a pitch burner could buy a horse, the two of them must have rode here."

"Then we're in the right spot, come on let's look," he said determined, walking further into the yard.

He walked further into the yard with Geralt, and he could see the prints Farm had been speaking about. The two of them must have certainly had a plan for leaving, They wouldn't have just left the castle without any idea of where to go, they must have had help. He saw the faint footprints from two people, along with horses. He rummaged through old tools, smelling buckets of pitch, and old barrels for storage.

"Check this out, nobody outside the castle could afford a bracelet like this," He heard Geralt say behind him.

He turned and the older Witcher held up an elegant, silver and jeweled bracelet. It was a good sign, he went to walk over to him, but almost tripped forward. He looked down at what he had almost fallen over and saw a collection of old clothes.

"Yeah, check this out too," he said, reaching down to lift them off the ground.

One was a yellow dress, with bloodstains near the stomach, and the vision of what the Baron described came back to him. He shuddered as he saw the other old shirt and boots that had been discarded. It wasn't the exact location of the two, but it had been close, enough. The pair had come through the pitch burners hut, that part had been clear enough.

"Old clothes, they must have changed here before continuing on," He explained to the two Witchers.

Geralt nodded approvingly, "Good, then we're on the trail."

Faram stood and pointed back towards the front of the hut, "Aye look alive mates, things moving."

The lubberkin spun up into the air, before heading further down the road. Quickly, the three Witchers all went back to their horses. He undid Clop's reins and his loyal mount seemed to be able to sense his urgency, because he sped on, his white mane flying in the wind. He heard the thundering hoof beats of Roach and Faram's mount behind him, as he focused on the lubberkin.

The puzzle was slowly starting to piece together. The Baron and his wife had gotten into the fight he had described, and then his wife and daughter had fled. The two met up with the pitch burner, who had clothes for them, and then continued to ride on. He wondered if the two were going to head for Oxenfurt or Novigrad, but from what he knew, the Redanian's had blocked off the Pontar, and entrance to both cities. They both had to have had more help, and hopefully that was where the lubberkin was leading them.

He felt Clop begin to stir as they entered a swampy, marsh area. He slowed the horse to a trot, as the lubberkin slowed its pace. The waters were low, but the pungent smell of the swaps still irritated his nose. He heard the howling of wolves from a distance, and he knew that the swamps were a breeding ground for necrophages. They were the first class of monsters he and Ciri had learnt about in Kaer Morhen, the most common Witchers encountered, but could be just as deadly as any others.

The spirit leading them finally came to another stop, and it was right on the road, in the middle of two swamps, one on each side of the narrow stretch of road. He found an older log poking out of the water to the side, and slid off the back of Clop, tying the horses reins to the wood, as Geralt and Faram followed behind, sliding off their mounts.

He slowly walked towards where the lubberkin was floating and had to cover his nose. Flies, and other bugs were all buzzing around the old carcass of a horse. The rib cage of the animal had been completely cut open, its old bones sticking out, as its intestines lay spilt on the ground, with its head torn completely off, laying just to the side.

Geralt and Faram stepped up besides him, and he heard Faram gag, "Blood fucking hell… poor beast."

Geralt nodded in agreement, before kneeling down next to the creature, "Well, let's see if we can figure out what did this, spirit brought us for a reason."

He nodded in agreement, and despite his nose being wrinkled, he knelt down next to Geralt. He examined the corpse, looking for signs of what the attacker could have looked like. If the horse had belonged to Anna or Tamara, he needed to find out what happened. Faram stood guard, his hand ready to draw one of his blades, as he looked from above them.

"Bones have been here a while, and check it out, bite marks on the saddle, damn necrophages will eat anything nowadays," He muttered, looking down towards the horses back end.

The one thing that stood out to Dominik was the poor animals rib cage. He pointed to the area to show Geralt, "Look at the size of those claw marks… certainly wasn't a necrophage, had to be something bigger… a lot bigger."

He heard the cracking of a bone and looked over as Geralt touched the bones of the horses foot, "This had to be there's. Missing a horseshoe, probably the one we saw back at the smokehouse."

Faram sucked in a deep breath, and pointed over towards the beasts severed head, "Head's torn clear off. Must've been a tough fucker whatever grabbed it."

He nodded to agree, and stood up next to Geralt with a sigh, "Must've been attacked on the road, something powerful… hope they got away."

Faram was the first to hear, his armor clunked, and he whirled around, drawing his silver, "Heads up mates… unfriendly fuckers coming our way."

Geralt and he whirred back around to face where Faram had been looking. Across from the, the waters from the other swamp had begun to stir. Geralt quickly drew and twirled his silver, while he grabbed a bomb from his belt, and drew his blade. The wolves in the distance howled again, and the only way they were able to see was from the light of the moon. He watched as the drowners arose from the depths, a huge group, but plenty for three highly trained, and skilled Witchers.

He was about to toss his bombs when he heard another roar from behind him. He whirled back around, and more beasts were charging towards them.

"I fucking hate rotfiends…" he muttered, lighting the Samum bomb in his hand.

He heard Geralt chuckled, before the fight started in earnest. He tossed to bomb towards the rot fiends, and it exploded, disorienting them. He charged at the group of three, and the bomb had given him the chance to strike first. He was to close now; he wasn't going to let rotfiends end his investigation. He twirled his blade to a reverse grip, and waded into the water, slicing low across the beasts stomach. It's disgusting venom spewed, and the beast roared before its head exploded in a burst, that nearly disoriented him. The other two fiends had finally regained themselves, and both leaped towards him. He jumped back, thrusting his blade forward, deflecting one of their claws. He spun around another attack and swung his sword around and decapitated the beast who attacked. One final beast roared from behind him, and with extreme precision he whirred around to the noise and lopped off the beasts claw that it had tried to attack with, before stabbing through it.

It exploded, and he jumped forward landing face first in the water, the disgusting spit from the rotfiend just missing out on hitting him. He sighed at his now soaked armor and clothes, before leaping back up to his feet. He rushed back to where the horse carcass was, seeing Geralt and Faram dispatch the group of drowners with great swiftness and skill. Faram grabbed around the throat of one charging at him, slamming the beast into the ground before plunging his blade into the beast. Next to him, Geralt spun around a drowner claw, before plunging his blade into a different one, before quickly spinning back to decapitate the final beast.

He sighed in relief, sheathing his blade again as Geralt and Faram did the same. Geralt sighed and looked up at Faram.

"Not bad, always interesting to see the different fighting styles Witchers have," He said, complementing Faram.

Faram's eyes went wide, and he looked as if he would faint, he bowed his head to Geralt before sheathing his silver, "Aye… an honor it is wolf, thank you."

He scoffed a laugh, before the lubberkin nearby spun in the air again. He quickly looked over to Faram and Geralt, "Sorry interrupt your glorious victory, but we need to get moving."

The spirit began to float farther down the road, and he ran towards the horses and Clop. He was riding down the road after the spirit, as Geralt and Faram were climbing onto their horses. He sped after the floating white spirit, through the trees, following the narrow road of the swamp. He had seen enough swamps during his time in Velen to last him a lifetime. The light of the moon and the lubberkin lead him, as he kicked his feet to spur on Clop even faster.

He was getting more and more worried, that the lubberkin would lead them to a corpse. After seeing the scene of the attack, he was worried that whatever it was that attacked them, it wasn't a monster to be taken lightly. He wasn't going to let more innocent people die, he was going to fulfill his contract, and get the reward. He followed through the large pine, trees as rain gently started to pour out from the sky. He rolled his eyes, feeling like it had been raining every day he had been in Velen.

Finally, the place the lubberkin had bringing them too came into view. He passed under a large fence, which led to one surrounding a very well-kept garden. He slowed down on Clop when he saw the house. It was right on the edge of a lake, with a small dock going out towards the water. A well for gathering water sat across from the building, that looked like any normal fishing families home. The garden had a multitude of different herbs and flowers, while a smaller fence rounded the home, with nets, poles, hooks and other fishing instruments. He could see candles lit on the inside, despite the late hour of the night. He slid off Clop, as he heard the hooves of Geralt and Faram's horses. Quickly he tied Clop to the fence outside, as the lubberkin floated in front of the houses window.

"Blood hell mate, you could slow down a bit you know," Faram said with a scoff as he tied his large horse.

"Sorry," He said, not turning around, "I'm just…"

"Anxious, I know how you feel," Geralt said, coming up next to him, the rain clattering off his black armor.

Faram walked up next to the two of them and gazed over at the house, "The people who helped the two escape are probably here."

Geralt nodded in agreement, "You're right," He said, looking over to Dominik, "I'll go inside, but you do the talking. More likely to talk to you."

He had gotten used to the arrangement over the last few weeks. As much as he wished it wasn't true, some people were just more comfortable talking to him as opposed to Geralt. He didn't have the intense yellow eyes, and two massive swords on his back like the other Witchers. He sighed and nodded, before Faram took a step forward, and turning to them.

"I'll keep watch out here, I'll holler if I see anything," He told the two of them.

He nodded, and took in a deep breath, before walking with Geralt behind him up towards the door of the house. It made him oddly nostalgic of his home back in Cintra, when the smell of freshly cooking food, vegetables and herbs. He saw the lubberkin looking into the house and sighed before walking in through the unlocked door.

When he walked through the door, with Geralt right behind him, the smell of cooking meat hit his nose right away. Multiple people stared at him right away, including three young children, a girl and two small boys. The woman of the house turned, her hand over the knife she used to cut herbs still, while her husband sat at the table. The house seemed smaller on the inside, to the right was an over, and tables for cooking, while in the center the man stood from their dining table. He saw a few plants, a bookshelf and to the left in the other room, a few bed rolls and larger mattress.

One young boy stopped in front of him, and stared, he was bald with a yellow top and green trousers, and after a moment he quickly ran behind his mother skirts. He quickly ran a hand through his wet brown hair, pushing it back on his head, and trying for a friendly look, not the look of a man who had been through hell the last few weeks.

"Other room, now," The woman said quickly, and all the children, except for the bald boy ran to the room with the beds.

The man, about as tall as he was, with black hair and a beard under a white cap, stood from the table, walking around in front of Geralt and he.

"What ye seek here sirs? Our hut's out of the way, woeful. We have nothin, we knows nothin," The man said, his voice very careful.

He could sense the apprehension in the man as much as he tried to hide it. However, he had no intention on letting these people come to harm. If he was the one who helped the Baron's family escaped, he didn't care. He only cared if he knew where they were. He held his hands up and met the man's eyes.

"We mean you no harm, I swear it. My father and I here, we're only here to see if you have some information that can help us. We're looking for the Bloody Baron's wife and daughter, Anna and Tamara," he said, not wanting to scare the man, by telling him he already knew they had helped.

The man quickly shook his head, "Not a soul been here sir."

He took a step closer, trying for a pleading look in his eyes, "Please, if you have any information, we need it, they could both be in danger. Daughter's medium height, brown hair, green eyes, about twenty, mothers thin, grey hair about forty?"

The man looked like he was about to say something else, probably denying they had been there again. He was glad when the young boy behind his mother interrupted.

"That was she that came at night, right mummy," The small child asked innocently, looking up at his mother.

"Quiet boy," His mother quickly hissed.

He breath in relief when he heard the words. He was worried that he would have to drag the information out of the couple somehow, or the lubberkin was somehow wrong. After hearing the words from the boy, he turned back to the man, who's eyes were low.

"Well your son's ratted you out, no use playing dumb anymore. I swear, we mean her no harm, we only wish to find her," He said, keeping his voice level.

The man sighed and looked back up to meet he and Geralt's eyes, "Sorry sirs, but… neither of you look like her father's men."

Quickly he shook his head, "We're not his men. You see, we have a deal with the man. He… knows the location of someone very important to us. He said he'd tell us, but we have to figure out where Anna and Tamara are, and if they're alive and safe."

The man looked to his wife, then back to Geralt and he, he nodded his head, "Miss Tamara is aye. She's to my brother's place in Oxenfurt. But missus Anna-that's another tale…. Though anywhere is better than Crow's Perch… with the Baron."

Hearing the words made him sigh again. He understood the mans frustration, and of course Anna and Tamara's. He had no intention on forcing either of them to return, he only needed to figure out where they were and if they were alive. The deal Geralt and he made with the Baron only stated that much.

He shook his head at the man, "We're… aware of what happened to her at Crow's Perch. We have no intention on forcing either of them back, we only need to make sure they're both alive and safe. So please…what happened to Tamara's mother?"

The man bit his lip nervously, and looked between both Geralt and he, before letting out a sigh, and gesturing for them to sit. He sat down, and saw the young boy sit next to his father, while he sat next to Geralt, the boys eager eyes darting between the two of them. The man's wife went back to cutting herbs and other food in the kitchen, but he could notice the intense grip she had, as if she would be ready to turn it on them in a moment's notice.

The husband leaned forward, meeting the two Witcher's eyes, "Aye if that be the case… 'twere like this. I was awaiting in the old smokehouse, with horses. Cold as hell, and so dark, couldn't see past two ells in front of ye," He started, looking out into the night, as if the forest was listening, "Moon ad' arisen high, and still they hadn't come. Began to fear ta demon had snatched them, but finally they came, we all set out towards the river."

He nodded in understanding, the warmth from the fire, and candles warming his bones. However, the cold wind still blew through the open window, as if it were an eerie sign. He remembered the corpse of the horse, where they had been attacked.

"We found one of the horses… what happened, what attacked you," He asked the fisherman, trying to finally piece the puzzle together.

The man shook his head, "Aye something did, but it happened after missus Anna started screaming! A gale arose, thought it'd tear my head clean off, and those damn birds! Swarms of them, coursin o'er the woods, raisin a racket to make your ears bleed! Missus Anna screamed, bent over into herself. Tamara knelt down, gripped her arms. 'Twas then I saw it fiery marks in her hands!"

He looked over and met Geralt's eyes. He knew that they both had to be thinking the same thing. Whatever evil Anna was wearing the amulet the pellar made to protect her, had come to cash in on the deal, and this had made whatever creature attacked them come. It was under the command of another, far eviler monster or spirit.

"What marks? Could you show us what they looked like," Geralt spoke up to ask him.

The man nodded and proceeded to pick up a container of salt from the table and dump it in front of him. He moved his fingers gracefully, and soon a picture was drawn in the salt. After the man had finished and pulled his hand back, he felt his breath quickly suck inside his lungs. The man had drawn a triangle, and a three-pointed diagram, a sort of wheel with the three ends inside the larger triangle. He had recognized the mark within moments. He sighed in disappointment, and anger, his fist clenching.

"Geralt…" he said, turning to the older Witcher.

"I know," He said, reading his adopted sons mind in an instant.

"Aye, a terrible sight," The man said, bringing the two Witcher's attention back to him, "Was like they were burned on the inside of her palms with hot irons."

"Like a sort of cattle brand," Geralt asked, hoping for Anna's sake it was true.

The man however shook his head, "Aye in a way but… these wasn't black scars, scabbed over. They was hot and glowing, as if they were burned with raw fire."

He sighed and leaned back, turning over to Geralt. The situation was worse then they had originally thought. It was clear now to them both, Anna had made a pact with the Crones of Crookback Bog, and the beastly sisters had finally gone to collect. He had promised the Crones the next time he saw them, he would kill them, together he and Ciri would go back and kill all three of them. He intended to keep that promise however he felt his heart ache that there was nothing he could do for the Baron's wife. One of the first few lessons he learned about evil spirts and beings, was that if someone entered into a pack with them, and it had been collected, a spell of madness, or the debt was very, very difficult to break, far beyond that of even the most skilled Witcher.

It was all another reason, that he would return one day, after he had found Ciri, and the two of them would kill the beastly sisters for all the lives they had taken.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"Sounds like a Fiend attacked them, makes sense now how the horse was ripped in half," Geralt said as they walked back down the stairs of the house.

He nodded in agreement, "Yeah… but the Baron won't be happy when he learns what happened, poor man."

Geralt sighed, "Wish we could do something, but you know as well as I do, it's beyond our skill to break that pact they made. Woman's madness is going to grip her for at least a year, however long the deal was for."

"You're right… I swear when we find Ciri, we really will come back for them," He said, as the cold winds howled through the forest.

The lubberkin, the spirit of Dea floated above them, and the two Witcher's bowed to it, "Thank you for all your help Dea," Dominik said meaningfully.

Geralt nodded after him, "Go in peace."

The lubberkin spun in the air once more, before floating back in the direction of the woods they had come. He wasn't going to be able to save the Baron's wife, but at least he had assisted in saving one innocent soul. He sighed, hoping that his wife location and the fact his daughter was safe in Oxenfurt would be enough for the man, enough to get Ciri's location. He heard the clunking of armor, and Faram came up to them both, a smile between his head black hair, and bushy beard.

"So mates how'd it go," He asked, crossing his massive arms, "Find out where the two ladies are? Find what you need?"

He sighed, but nodded his head, "We did… thought not exactly in the most ideal scenario. Gonna have to be enough for the Baron though."

"If it's not well, we'll find ways to make him tell us," Geralt said, getting a laugh from the bear school Witcher, and Dominik.

Faram let out a hearty laugh, before looking and meeting Dom's eyes again, "HAHA, oh now I see where you get it from…. I'd love to come see this to the end with you mate, but I must really be getting back to Novigrad."

Dom frowned, but nodded his head. He remembered how he never had a boring night when he traveled with Faram. It was a nice change from going to bed at night, crying, brooding, or his thoughts being on the loss of Ciri. He had missed his friend after they had separated, and he hated to do so again after just meeting up again. However, he knew that Faram had a mission, and that if he ever truly needed his friend, they would meet again.

"What have you been doing in Novigrad," Geralt asked the larger man.

Faram's playful eyes suddenly fell, and he sighed, "Been training, stocking up on coin for the last few months. I finally got enough coin to buy myself a boat, hire some crew and sail to Skellige. Pirates have been raiding any ship that goes near the isles, but if they see me, realize I'm from there, they'll let me through…. Finally, time for me to go face the giant again."

Dominik nodded in understanding. He knew how much killing the giant, and saving the island he grew up on meant to Faram. He had confided in him, that he thought if he had actually gone back to see his family, worry more about his home, he could've killed the Giant when it arrived. He felt now like it was his duty to return, and Dominik could relate.

"Aye… I understand. Odds are we'll be in Novigrad the next few days, how much longer will you be there," He asked his friend.

Faram's signature smirk returned, "Aha, be there for another week or two at most. Still got some loose ends to tie up, coin to hand off. So… if you're in Novigrad and you have need of my blades, say the word and their yours, both of you. Come find me at the Golden Sturgeon, that's where I've been held up."

"Thanks, Faram…" he said with a sigh, reaching out to hug the bear school Witcher.

Faram pulled him into a tight hug, almost crushing him in the process. He had made a few notable friends in his years traveling alone, however Faram had always stood at the top. The man had quit literally saved him from himself, his most deadly foe. Faram pulled back from the hug and turned to Geralt and gave him a low bow.

"And you White Wolf, it was my honor to be able to fight at your side. I hope to be able to more in the future," He said, his voice full of optimism and awe.

Geralt smiled, and held out his hand, shaking the bear school Witcher's large, gauntleted hand, "I'm sure we will. Thanks for keeping him company, being there for him when I couldn't," he said looking over to Dom.

He chuckled a little and Faram smiled, "Aye, the pleasure was all mine. So long mates… I'll see the two of you soon I'm sure. Good luck and remember the Golden Sturgeon! A round on me when you come!"

He stood with Geralt and waved to the bear school Witcher, as he mounted his large horse. He gave one last wave of his large armored hand, and rode off into the forest, back from where they came. He was upset to see his friend go however he knew that now he had even more people he could rely on when the final fight was to come. As much as he wished his could, he knew that he would never be able to defeat the Wild Hunt, and save Ciri with just he, Geralt and Yennefer.

He would need allies, friends, support, but most importantly of all he would need to train. Nithral had almost killed him, and while he was a general of the Hunt, he knew there were even more powerful foes to come. He would have the support of his family, and Ciri once he found her, but he knew that it was his duty to protect them. He would not fail this new family not like he had failed his last one.

And it would all start with finding Ciri, and he could tell he was close.

He sighed as Faram galloped away on his horse, before turning back to Geralt, the light of the moon reflecting off the surface of the nearby water. He turned and met Geralt's eyes, as the cold winds howled.

"So, what do we do now? Anna is out of our reach, but what about Tamara," He asked the older Witcher.

Geralt looked out over the water, contemplating the options, before turning back to him.

"Well, she's in Oxenfurt, and sounds safe enough. I'll leave it up to you, should we go see her first? If we ride out at first light, should only take us a few hours," He asked the younger Witcher.

"The Redanian's have blocked the Pontar. How are we supposed to get in," He asked, remembering Faram's words.

Geralt shrugged it off, "We'll find a way in, probably can sail a boat around, or swim."

He sighed, the last thing he wanted to do was take more time away from their main objective. However, he didn't know how happy the Baron would be when he figured out the news about his wife. The least the two of them could do was go and talk to his daughter, try to convince her to come back. He didn't want to risk them riding back to Crow's Perch, only for him to say he wanted them to go speak to his daughter anyhow.

Besides, no matter what the man had taken care of Ciri. He took her in when she was injured, fed her, helped her wounds heal. The least he could do was try to get his child to come home.

He met Geralt's eyes and nodded, "I guess we're going to Oxenfurt. Don't wanna risk him not giving us information when he learns about his wife besides…. He did help Ciri. Least we can do is try to convince his daughter to come home."

Geralt gave him a small smile, "I was thinking the same. Come on, let's find somewhere to get a fire going," He said, walking ahead of him.

"Geralt," He said, making the older Witcher turn around, "Do… you think we can train for an hour or two tonight?"

Geralt nodded, but narrowed his eyes wonderingly, "Course we can… just thought you'd want to rest after the busy few days we've had."

He scoffed and shook his head, "I rested enough today. I need more work, my signs, my footwork, everything needs to be better."

Geralt turned fully to face him, eyeing the young Witcher curiously.

"Not that I'm saying no, but what brought all this on? You're getting better with your signs, sword play is sharp as ever, you-."

"You can always improve, and I need to," Dominik said, cutting him off.

The white-haired Witcher nodded in understanding, "Alright, I understand. Let's get camp set up, and we can start."

He sighed in relief, and still felt his stomach begin to churn. He looked back over the lake, and Geralt shook his head.

"You know Dominik, you ARE strong enough to do this. I know you too well," He said to the younger Witcher.

He shook his head, turning back to his adoptive father, "Geralt when I fought Nithral I almost died. I would be split in half on a cavern floor if not for Kiera distracting him. If I'm going to be able to protect Ciri when we find her… I need to be better. I NEED to keep training. I… I am just a man after all."

"Not just a man," Geralt said, walking up next to him to look out over the lake, "You're a man fighting for those you love. You won't let anyone stop you. That kind of determination is something to admire."

He smiled at the compliment but scoffed, "Even if that's true. Determination isn't going to help me swing my sword better. I won't let Ciri down again, when we find her, I want to be ready for anything."

"You didn't let anyone down Dominik," The older Witcher shot back as soon as he was done.

He shook his and turned to face the Witcher, "I promised that I would protect her. I promised her grandmother, my father, and most importantly her. I know she can handle herself, but that doesn't mean she should have to do it all alone. I'm going to train every night if I have too, and when we find her… I'll be ready for anything."

Geralt met his gaze, his intense yellow Witcher's eyes staring into him. Finally, he sighed and nodded.

"Alright… you know I'll train with you as much as you want. Nothing can truly prepare you for the Wild Hunt… but I'll do my best. Come on, let's get going, we got a busy day tomorrow," The older Witcher said, walking off towards their horses.

He nodded with a smile. The sound from his battle with Nithral tingled on his abdomen, a reminder of his first ever encounter with the Hunt. If these were the being that had been chasing Ciri for all these years, the ones who wanted to kill her, harvest her blood for an invasion, then he would have to do much better then he currently was. He would need to be faster, more precise, build up his stamina so he could cast signs without nearly falling over. If he truly wanted what he had been chasing all these years, a life with Ciri where she chose her own path, he would need to be better.

And if sacrificing sleep, for more training with Geralt meant that he could, then he was prepared to make it.

A/N: So, after a long search Dominik and Geralt have finally figured out what happened to Anna and Tamara. After saying goodbye to his friend Faram of Undviik, the two Witchers are readying to set out to Oxenfurt, to find the Baron's daughter, before finally learning where Ciri has gone. What stood out to you in this chapter? How do you think Faram will impact the story going forward? What will happen when we meet Tamara? What will happen when we get to Novigrad? Favorite, follow and leave a review to tell me what you thought, see you all next time.