Chapter Eleven: Griffins and Wolves
Summer 1274, three months later
Kaer Morhen, Kaedwen
As Damien's horse trotted up the thin path to the witcher fortress, he wondered how he was going to explain the diversion he had taken. Technically speaking, he was to go to Aedd Gynvael to recruit mages for Kovir. Considering he had taken the month before to journey on the Path in Kovir, he knew he owed the mages (but really, only Triss) the decency to help out. As such, Triss had ordered him to return home as quickly as possible. A fortnight ago he had set out from Lan Exeter, ostensibly for Aedd Gynvael. It just so happened that he was several hundred leagues to the southeast in the foothills of the Blue Mountains. In the middle of a valley that was inhabited only by a witcher fortress.
Not really much mage recruitment to be done out here. Not much of anything to be done out here. He admired the tranquility of the valley. It reminded him a lot of Kaer Nyseen, which he had finally visited again for the first time since the war ended. Considering the winters Olivia had spent with him in Kaer Nyseen, it had been difficult for him to return, which is why he hadn't. But finding Triss had enabled him to finally move on, and return to the only place he could really call home.
It was also why he had asked to go to Aedd Gynvael. It was where Olivia had hailed from; she had brought him to the city once to meet some of her friends and other loved ones. He never got a chance to pay his final respects to her.
Olivia had been…different. She had been aggressive in places where Damien was cautious, apprehensive when Damien was certain. He had liked her vivacity, how full of life she was.
But she had also been foolish. She lived in Sabrina Glessviig's shadow, and had looked up to the fearsome and dangerous sorceress. Damien had never trusted Sabrina; she was too aggressive, too demanding, and obsessed with power. But even her downfall didn't stop Olivia from trying to replicate her, something that had angered Damien a great deal during those last few months they were together.
Her obsession with power, her desire to be feared in the court, kept her in Kaedwen through the war, even when Temeria and Aedirn fell and everything seemed lost. Even as eagle banners were crossing the Kestrel Mountains. That was her flaw, her fatal flaw; she always thought she knew what she was doing. She didn't think she needed advice or pearls of wisdom.
Triss had her flaws as well. She could be hot headed, and she works far too hard for her own good. But Triss knew how to respect Damien's advice. She knew he was more knowledgeable in Koviri culture and history then she was. For now, at any rate. She knew exactly where her loyalties lay and wasn't hiding any cards, so to speak. It made Damien feel bad about coming to Kaer Morhen without telling her, but he knew it would only distract her from her work if she knew how far he was going. He could take care of himself, after all, just like she could.
Damien rode up to the metal gate to see it slightly raised; someone must have head out recently. The gate looked strange, like part of it was newer then the rest. Must be part of the repair process. He rode through the gate into the front courtyard.
Inside, he found a man who was clearly a witcher; he was wearing a wolf medallion, had two blades, one on his back, the other on his lap, as he was oiling it. His armor was red with spikes across the top, his brown hair parted down the middle, much like Damien's.
He also had a massive disfigurement on the side of his face that pointed towards Damien.
The witcher looked to Damien, and got up. "Anything I can help you with?" He said, keeping his voice calm. Eskel wasn't sure what to make of the man; he had two blades and a griffin medallion, so he had to be a witcher. But it was rare for people to visit, and so he wanted to be cautious, all the same.
Damien dismounted his horse and offered a hand to Eskel. "Damien of Oxenfurt, the Silver Blade of Hengfors. Witcher of the Griffin School." Eskel smirked, and gave him a strong handshake. "Who might you be?"
"Eskel. Witcher as well, of the Wolf School. What brings you to Kaer Morhen?"
"So you're Eskel! Triss mentioned you." Eskel gave Damien a confused look, wondering how he knew who Triss was. Damien realized he should clarify himself.
"We are very well acquainted, Triss and I. We met in Kovir. But anyways, I'm here to pay my respects to Vesemir's grave. I met Lambert, and he mentioned you guys built him a monument. I was hoping you could point me in the right direction."
Eskel looked surprised. He gave Damien a full glance. The man was built, slightly taller than himself, but less stocky. His armor was green and black, with a griffin symbol across the neckline. He hadn't spoken to Triss properly since the battle, but figured it made sense for him to become 'acquainted' with Triss. Does he think I was born yesterday? They are probably ploughing. In many ways, he was happy Triss had finally moved on from Geralt. It was about time, considering he always knew the man would go back to Yen.
"Well, yeah, we did. Ciri's gone to visit it right now. She's heading out on the Path afterwards, wanted to stop by before she left. If you follow her path up the trail from the gate, you could probably still catch her. She could point you in the right direction." He wasn't sure if he should be telling the man this, but he knew Ciri was a strong woman. She could cut the man in half if he became a threat. And besides, Eskel could tell this guy was being honest. He wasn't trying to hide anything with his eyes or face. Why? Eskel could only guess.
"Thank you so much, mate, I'll be sure to swing by." With that, the strange witcher mounted his horse and rode off. Why does he care about Vesemir's grave? He decided to be safe, and waited a little bit before riding off behind him.
He probably thinks I want to hurt Ciri or the grave. Damien thought as he rode off, galloping up the path. He's probably going to follow. Granted, Damien would be equally suspicious if someone came to Kaer Nyseen like that. But Damien had to be quick. How often does one get to meet the Lion Cub of Cintra?
Damien followed the path up on top of a hill that was north of Kaer Morhen. He saw another horse grazing nearby, and decided to dismount as well. He decided it would be best to take out Vesemir's medallion in preparation, and headed up the hill.
Ciri was sitting, her eyes closing as she focused intently on everything Vesemir had taught her. If Geralt and Yennefer had been her parents, Vesemir was her wise and sagacious uncle, who always knew what to say and helped keep her calm all those years ago.
She hadn't set out on the Path in over a year; she had focused hard on the renovations. They had managed to fix all the breaches, seal the gaps, and repair all the damage that had been done over the years. There was much to be done, but Ciri knew she was in a good place to stop. She found it difficult to leave Kaer Morhen in a worse state then she had found it, and through all of her hard work, the fortress was strong again.
Her monument to Vesemir, a solid white marble tower that reached up about five feet off the ground, with wolf etchings surrounding it, had always felt lacking. She had his ashes in a small box beneath the monument, his blades buried with him. Try as she may, though, she could never move on from her final failure; she had never been able to recover Vesemir's medallion.
She was reflecting on all the time she had spent with Vesemir, losing herself in thought, when she heard a horse neigh. One that did not sound anything like Kelpie's or Scorpion's. There shouldn't be anyone else in the valley except me and Eskel. She opened her eyes, got up, and drew her blade, readying her hand to cast Quen the second she needed to.
She looked to the bottom of the hill to see someone she didn't recognize, climbing up the hill. He looked about Lambert's age, long parted black hair, and his armor was green and black, with a griffin medallion around his neck. He had two blades on his back, and in his hand was a medallion. A wolf medallion.
Ciri wasn't sure what to make of the man; she knew of the Griffin School, but she had never actually met a member. And even as a fellow witcher, she wasn't sure if she could trust him, considering Geralt had told her of numerous bad encounters with other witchers.
The man looked up to Ciri, and beamed. He was clearly glad to see Ciri, and it didn't look sinister, but she kept her blade draw all the same.
"Who are you and what the ploughing hells are you doing here?" Ciri was not happy to be disturbed.
"Cirilla, isn't it? I've heard a lot about you. Triss speaks very highly of you." With that, she was surprised. The man recognized her, and more importantly, knew who Triss was, and was clearly acquainted with her.
"It doesn't matter who I may or may not be, answer the question. Who are you and why are you here?" Damien chuckled to himself.
"I am Damien of Oxenfurt, the Silver Blade of Hengfors, a fellow witcher. I've come to return something that belonged to Vesemir." With that he reached out with his right hand, which was holding Vesemir's medallion. Ciri looked down at it, and then back at Damien. She lowered her blade slightly and reached out to take the medallion. He handed it to her, and she looked at it more carefully.
It was dented and dinged in the places she remembered, and in a few additional places. She felt a strange magic surrounding it, different from that which normally surrounds medallions.
"What…how did you…where…" Ciri was so confused. She didn't even know this man, but he had somehow been able to get the medallion. Damien motioned to the monument, and they both walked towards it and sat down.
"I feel it's appropriate I tell you my story." With that, Damien explained to her the entirety of it all; from the issuing of the contract, to the issues in the mines, to Triss' arrival, to the fighting with the Crone, even mentioning the encounter with Lambert. Ciri felt the man was telling the truth, not just because his heartrate only seemed to jump when he talked about Triss, but because he seemed incredibly genuine and open, quite different from most witchers she knew, who were much rougher on the outside.
"Thank you." Ciri said, after taking a solid moment to reflect and think, as she moved to put the medallion around the monument. Before she could, Damien reached forward and stopped her.
"There's a reason I came personally instead of simply having someone bring it. The Crone cursed the medallion. I figured it out one night when I was studying it; it's barely noticeable, but it's there. Until then, it remains a tool of dangerous power. Fortunately, we, or at least you, can break it."
"Me? Any particular reason?"
"Yes. You were close to Vesemir, were you not?" Ciri looked away, and nodded. "Only someone like yourself can break it. There are two things holding the curse together; a missed acceptance and a missed goodbye. Vesemir never got to hear Lambert accept him, and never got to hear you say goodbye. Until then, the curse remains on the medallion, and it can draw monsters to it to revive the witch."
"…but what use is that? We don't have Lambert-"
"I've already gotten Lambert's part covered. I had the medallion in my pocket when Lambert accepted him as his mentor when they visited us in Kovir. It's just down to you." Ciri sighed, realizing that Damien was well prepared.
She looked back the monument, and thought for a moment. She put the medallion down in front of her, closed her eyes, and put her hands in her lap. She took a deep breath, breathing in the warm summer air.
"Goodbye Vesemir. I'll miss you." The words were simple, but for some reason it was hard to get them out. As she uttered them, she could have sworn she heard the wind pick up for a second, and the medallion flashed for a moment. She picked it up to find it warm, much warmer than it was when she had put it down. "The curse should be broken, correct?" Damien nodded, and with that, she put the medallion at the base of the monument. She felt like she could finally move on from that chapter in her life; that she had given Vesemir what he deserved, and could willingly leave Kaer Morhen without any regrets, without any worry of failing.
They got up to head back to their horses to find Eskel riding in. Seeing that there wasn't a problem, he quickly excused himself, before Ciri chided him for leaving the guest so rudely. They rode back to Kaer Morhen, said goodbye to Eskel, who closed the gate behind him, as the two rode off to exit the valley.
"Any particular plans?" Damien asked as they rode down the path that led out of the valley. For now, their paths were one, and so they chose to ride next to each other.
Ciri looked at back at Damien. "South, to Ard Carraigh. Good place to start. From there, who knows? Eskel mentioned going east, but I think I'll stick to the North for now. You?"
"I'm officially supposed to be helping Triss out in recruiting new mages in Aedd Gynvael, so I'm heading north. This happened to be an oh so convenient diversion in the road."
"Ah yes, I can see how the clearly marked highway signs can lead you into an almost completely uninhabited valley."
"Finally, someone who understands." The two laughed. They continued to tell each stories and make biting quips until they reached the end of the valley. It was only an hour or so to sunset, and they encountered the fork in the road; one direction leading south, the other north.
"This is where I leave you. It's been good meeting you at last. Good fortune to you on the Path." With that, Damien reached across and shook Ciri's hand. They both smiled.
"Same to you, witcher." With that, they rode off in different directions, their paths diverging in the lush forests of the peaceful valley.
End of Chapter Eleven