Not super happy about this one, but I wonder what it's like for the rest of you. This is a slow chapter, so no fight scenes, more of an exploration of the dynamic between Euric and Ghost and Haern Caduch. Like I said before, I apologise for the long wait. Having an idea for a Young Justice fic didn't help to get this chapter out either.
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The day was warm as the sky cleared all clouds and the sun rained down its radiance.
Euric guided his horse down a side road, the mountains of Amell hanging overhead, the only objects that covered the way in faint shadows. The closeness of the rocks stopped any strong winds from huffing the witcher's clothes and equipment around. Euric rested on the horse, body losing its tension as he crossed the threshold from the Marnadal Stairs to the mountains. Euric remembered the stories his teachers told him about the path to Haern Caduch, about how dwarves created the road as a favour, a maze of routes and tunnels that one can easily lose themselves in. Unless, of course, you know the way through. The witcher sighed as he thought of the knowledge now becoming lost.
"Only Ivo and myself. Gods, what happened to us?" said Euric, now in the comfort of the secret path. There was no Grandmaster of the Bear School, Euric himself were only a few years older than the witcher from Belhaven. Most perished in the ruins of the fortress.
'Run!' They cried, he remembered their screams of death and desperation. The keep burned, the smoke clogging up his lungs like a fly to a spider's Web, the smoke dabbed his eyes and he cried - Euric couldn't remember if it was from the fire or the feeling of anger and betrayal.
Euric shook his head and turned to Ghost. The spectre was an anomaly to him. The connection of being the same person, but also not was strongly frustrating. The night he slept in the settlement with the bruxa, called Oaks, more memories from the spirit were introduced like a play - and he was the sole audience member. A mother and father, siblings, friends, a sphere of humans, no dragons, no drowners, no vampires, no elves, no dwarves, no nymphs.
"Ghost, your world?" Euric asked.
"Ah, yes, I imagine it's dull compared to yours." Ghost said, walking beside the horse. No indication of strain or exhaustion on his face. "Only in fairy tales, stories and songs that we've created can we even be close to these races. That's why I sort of…"
"What?"
"Well, the way humans treat the other races. I am confused."
Euric hummed, he didn't know what to say, but he had to speak. Less the conversation became stagnant and rip apart like paper in water. "It's complicated."
"That's obvious." Ghost scoffed. "I think that I'll say nothing about it, this world is already destroying the tales, stories and songs of my life."
The two were silent for a time, the only sound being the occasional whistling breeze and the clopping of the horse's hooves.
"Tell me one," Euric said.
"What?"
"Tell me one of your fairy tales or stories?" Euric indicated towards the mountain pass. "We have time. It'll take us near a week to get to Haern Caduch through the mountain pass."
Ghost was silent, Euric thought he might have asked too much of the spirit, after all, they had just met - relatively and it still felt weird talking to the spectre. The journey past the village of Oaks, and through Cintra was mostly silent, the two gifting a sentence towards each other. For the witcher, it was more the fact no one could see Ghost, for he did not want rumours of an insane witcher that talked to things that weren't there. Euric could not know what Ghost was thinking - but if they were the same person, Euric hoped that his counterpart was thinking identical to him.
"Well," Ghost scratched his head, the dead, rotted skin and bluish appearance made it impossible to tell if he was blushing. "I don't have a perfect recollection of the story, as it does have different interpretations, but I'll try my best." Ghost cleared his throat, which made Euric wonder why his counterpart needed to if he was dead, but focussed as the spirit began his tale. "In this story, it began with the forging of the Great Rings…"
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Euric pulled his horse gently through the tunnel exit, his pupils widening to acclimatise to the darkness. Any light from the setting sun held back by the tall, snow-capped mountains. The tale of this 'Lord of the Rings' story, of heroic warriors from all races: humans, dwarves, elves, halflings. A tale of good triumphing against evil, destroying a dark Lord and saving the world. Euric could admit that Ghost was a good storyteller, putting build-up and battles in the right area for the action-orientated listeners, and the romance and drama for those that enjoyed it.
"So what happened to them: Aragorn, Gimli and the rest?" Euric asked, checking the way forward. They were close, he knew, and Euric just wanted to decide if it was better to wait for dawn to come, or go straight to the fortress.
"As I said, there were numerous interpretations and theories about what really happened. I'll get back to you about what happened to them." Ghost looked around, his blue form standing out in the darkness - yet it didn't change luminosity nor did it hurt to look at. What put Euric off though was the lack of glow in the environment - Ghost didn't give off light.
In front of them, as the cave gave way to light, Ghost let out a sound of awe. The evening light gave Haern Caduch an ethereal look to it, though ruined, Haern Caduch stood out with thick walls, the barbican and its gate near unrecognisable as they had fallen to the valley floor. Yet, Euric could see the fortress like it was before, men patrolling the battlements, lights in the arrow slits, the boys training in the inner bailey by instructors. Euric sighed, grief wallowed in his heart and his memory turned sour. Infernos of pain where fires within hearths warmed both trainers and trainees, and fallen walls where mighty stone bricks stood like guardians against whoever dared come to the fortress with ill-will in their hearts.
Following Euric's directions with the reins, the mare crossed the stone bridge towards the barbican. The clanging of swords, grunts and yells of the men and boys used to echo within the mountain fortress, Euric reminisced as he and Ghost entered the inner bailey.
"How did this place ever fall into such disarray?" Ghost asked, his clouded eyes looking around in awe. "The mountain pass and that hidden path must've been more than enough to deter any intru...what was that?"
"What do you mean?" Euric looked around, his ears, nose and eyes did not see another man, woman, child or beast near them.
Ghost's eyes narrowed then widened, narrowed then widened again before speaking quietly. "I think I'm seeing people. Men and boys, fighting? No, practising."
Concerned at Ghost's words, the witcher stepped from his mare, and stared in the same direction as Ghost, a hand raising towards his swords, for which one he needed, Euric did not know yet.
His counterpart's brow was tight, eyes fixed on something that Euric could not see.
Whispers, small and incomprehensible to understand. Euric reached for his silver blade and drew it softly, the sword dragging its metal against the sheath roared in the inner courtyard.
"I think I see...ghosts." Euric gripped the handle, so much so that the blade trembled.
"Impossible, I performed necessary burials for everyone here." It was a day that the witcher dared not remember. Returning a few days later to Haern Caduch after the fires whimpered out and the murderers dispersed, to either go back to their homes or to die trying to find their kin's bodies on the way trying to find the school. Euric shut the past away and focussed in any place a spirit could find.
"It's not a spectre that you know of." Ghost's voice was quiet and solemn. Suddenly, his eyes glowed a radiant blue fire, and veins of white crawled up from behind the strange tunic.
"Ghost?" Euric stepped away, blade now defensive, hoping at least that his counterpart didn't turn mad, or hoped to kill him when his guard was down. Eying his counterpart, Ghost's body changed, previously the spectre's body language was shy and introverted, now his shoulders were up and back, his head up and proud. A far cry from the quiet person before.
"I see them. Your fellow students and your teachers. They are repeating the attack over and over again." Even Ghost's voice was different, unknown strength boomed from his throat.
"You lie, Ghost!" Euric scowled. Rage quickly overcame his body and mind, any concern or worry for the spectre was gone. "I took care of them! I gave their bodies the respect they deserve. Do not tell me they are reliving something that should not be possible." Euric almost frothed, his teeth scraping on one another as his blade nearly flew from his hand and towards Ghost.
"Peace, Euric. It's nothing you have, or have not, done. It is them. Their rage, their sadness. I feel it. A collective memory so powerful that it left a scar on the world. The memories of all those who died here."
The witcher stopped and searched around one more time.
"Here let me show you." Now, in front of him, Ghost reached and placed a hand on Euric's shoulder.
The world turn dark, unlike the day turning to night with the sun falling over the horizon, dark like the world was distorted by a playwright that had torn his work apart and held the pieces together with leather stripes and metal buckles. The cold that bit into his flesh and bones turned to a depression on his chest, on his heart. The weariness that gripped his tired mind now reached an apex that the witcher was close to passing out and letting the welcome embrace of sleep take him. The fortress was still ruined but areas glowed blue. Areas that were destroyed into a state of disrepair: holes in walls and buildings, whole towers, racks, gates.
"What...What have you done?" The witcher struggled to say - legs swaying and sword almost let go.
"Welcome to my world, Euric of Cintra." Ghost welcomed, a hand indicating an area to Euric's right. The spectre looked almost normal, a half-face of lips and eyelids - the other being the same rotten corpse.
Euric saw them. Herod, Arold, Vilk, Kram, Fodri, Verre, Condet. Children that he trained with, shared meals with, talked with, laughed with, told secrets to each other - secrets that Euric would take to his grave.
He saw himself alongside them in the line. A man, Forner Cragg, speaking to them, a sword in two hands, going through the various motions and phrases of the Temerian Devil Style, or Strong Style.
"I see them. All of them. This is what I feel. This is what I always feel. The regret left behind. The wrath left behind. The joy, lust, trepidation, fear, love, disgust, satisfaction." Ghost turned and held up his arms as if welcoming an old friend to a home. "Welcome, Euric, to the place of broken things. The in-between the living and dead."
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Euric stared into the fire, a pile of leather-bound books next to him. Pulling the furs around him, his mind overwhelmed and an inkling of horror made its way home in his chest.
He was no longer in that...place, except that depression in his chest and the weariness housed themselves within him was still there. Faint but still there. A constant reminder of his school's inhabitants.
"What are you, Ghost?" Euric asked.
Opposite him, the spectre sighed. "I do not know, I'm a spirit or ghost, or something - I'll differ to your expertise on that definition. When I died, I remember arriving in the other world. In the dark place. Unsure if some god, demon or sorcerer forced me to hold after death. I...travelled for a while, searching for anyone, anything that can help make my hell make sense." Ghost almost looked ready to cry. "Then I heard you, words from across the void, then you were in pain. My arms burned, I knew then, we were connected somehow. I flew. My body was dragged towards you, the wizard's spell activated and I found myself in your world. Talking to you."
"Why not tell me this before? Maybe during the journey here?"
Ghost's mouth curled downwards. "I forgot, I think. I imagine being pulled from a sort of limbo would damage me in some way. Besides, I do not know how I was able to make you enter, or partially see, the In-Between."
Euric frowned at the information. "You are no spectre I've encountered before, nor have I read anything about this phenomenon happening before. Unless it is in stories or fairy tales."
"Then rejoice, Euric, you have found yourself in one of those fairy tales." Ghost smiled faintly.
Euric scowled, however. "I hope not, they always have an unexpected twist, or have a bad ending as some sort of moral behind it."
"True, bad choice to compare." Ghost nodded in agreement. "However, that doesn't mean this strange phenomenon should not be written down."
Euric paused and moved his head up and down. Taking the top book from the pile, an inkpot and quill out from a knapsack, Euric opened the book dubbed 'Bear School, Encounters in the Wild' near the end and started writing.
Bear School, Encounters in the Path
Spirit Encounter
Witcher: Euric of Cintra
Date of Encounter: 12th, First Month, 1248
Written Down: 2st First Month, 1248
Place of Encounter: Oaks Village, Cintra.
I had encountered a strange being on a mission within a small settlement, called Oaks, where a mad old sorcerer had attempted to make a Bruxa human again. Maybe the Bruxa had filled the fool with delusions and lies for a quick snack of children. The ritual this sorcerer had attempted calls out to a spirit/ghost/spectre in the afterlife and pulls them towards life.
During the preceding fight, I stepped into the ritual circle by accident and, somehow, a spirit connected to myself was bound to me. A version of myself from another sphere. We do not look the same, we discount not sound the same. Yet, I feel in my heart that we are the same person.
I dare not write down the ritual components and writings for I fear another sorcerer, sorceress or made person will attempt to do the same.
Putting the book down to let the ink dry, Euric put away his quill and inkpot, the witcher curled his furs tiger against himself.
"Any other strange power or abilities that I need to know about, Ghost?" Euric asked, pushing a stick against the fire half-heartedly.
"I do not know." Ghost answered. "It is winter, so we can test until it passes."
"I hope, I dearly hope, that any power you bring to this world from the other doesn't bring further ruin to my home."
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Euric spun, his sword following his wrist with a pirouette and a riposte against the opponent, a jump over the log as it swung towards his ankles stopped his thrust - he landed on the pole and continued to try and strike his opponent.
"Riposte, counter-riposte, half-pirouette, redirect…" Instructor Cragg commanded, his voice hard as stone and booming.
Euric followed the orders, his movements smooth and quick. The blade singing in his hands, a blindfold depriving him of sight and forcing Euric to rely on his ears and nose.
It was the witcher's favourite exercise in the morning, getting the adrenaline pumping through the body to really force it awake. Even when he hadn't gone through his mutations, the 'Bar' was his favourite, to his fellow witchers-in-training annoyance.
"It seems Euric has chosen the 'Bar' again for training." Instructor Cragg said, a smirk on his lips - the other children groaned with one or two protesting. "Enough! That is the chosen exercise, and so you will participate! And if I hear more whining from you, I hear the stables are a good place to learn for little shitstains to shut it and follow orders!"
The group of little shitstains did indeed shut it and followed Instructor Cragg towards the contraption. A log laying down on top of wooden pedestals tied at both ends with thick rope to other logs standing to attention on the north and south sides of the pedestals. On the outside of the standing logs, four ropes, two on each piece of standing timber, were rolled into a loop.
Instructor Cragg walked over to one standing timber, grabbed a rope loop and pulled, one end of the horizontal log was in the air. "Herod, get the other rope and pull! Arold, hold this one!" The two did what Instructor Cragg ordered, the log now only an inch above the pedestals. "Now get the log swinging and listen! That goes for all of you because I'm not repeating myself!" Instructor Cragg moved towards a weapons rack that held blunted blades, shortened to suit our height, and grabbed enough for the eight students.
"Alright, now Euric! Since you deemed fit to grace us with your...appreciation for this exercise, you shall go first. Come take a training sword and get on."
Euric did so without hesitation, the boy had always felt his blood pump manically, and Euric always felt happy once he was finished. Looking back on this feeling, Euric concluded he was probably battle-hungry, addicted to the adrenaline. Seeing the piece of wood swaying left and right, Euric noted his heart beating faster and faster, and as the log passed the pedestal the trainee climbed. Immediately, Euric knew he got up too quickly when his body swayed backwards. Fighting to keep upright, he took too long and he spotted the log coming to knock his legs out from under him, quicker than normal. Euric would've rolled his eyes at his trainee's petty vengeance had he not been in danger of failing the drill.
Taking a chance, Euric jumped forwards, the balls of his feet scratching the wood as they lifted into the air. He landed properly and quickly found his balance - righting himself into a ready position, blade in both hands.
"Overhead slash, block, pirouette…" Instructor Cragg commanded.
Euric felt sweat pour from his body and decided that it was enough training on the Bar, and flipped backwards, missing the log that swung one last time. Grabbing a cloth, he wiped his forehead and walked towards a mechanism that pushed and pulled the ropes that controlled the log of the Bar. Pulling three levers that stopped the swaying wood, allowing it to slow down to a halt.
"The more I keep looking back at your memories," Ghost said, taken aback at the memory he saw. "The more I'm thankful that those teaching methods don't exist in my world. They would've been sent to jail for life."
"Only because the world does not have creatures like here." Euric drank from a pouch and looked to the sky, the midday sun did not help heat the snow-covered fortress. Euric just hoped Ivo was safe from the cold, with food and drink in his belly.
Ghost nodded. "True, but I still feel ill at the sight of children having to endure such hardship for what amounts to a three-tenths of a chance of surviving."
Euric stopped and a harsh voice came from him. "It's necessary, Ghost."
They did not speak to each other for the rest of the day.