Chapter 9: A Witcher's Training

POV Geralt, 1264 late October

Geralt most kinds of weary when he rode over the castle's draw bridge, trying to ignore the bones underneath, and under Kaer Morhen's crumbling curtain wall. He had had a shit year: he was heavily injured and mostly unconscious for a few months, he met his mother but got to say fuck all, he learned that Cintra fell so his child surprise is probably dead, learned that his close friend died at the battle of Sodden, he barely escaped a small village pogrom and he was screwed out of pay for more contracts than usual.

Geralt first made his way to the stables, where he saw Lambert caring for his horse. When the dark haired witcher noticed his white-haired brother, his face was instantly split in a shit eating grin. "Hey, Geralt. You have a surprise in store for you at the hearth." he said

"A surprise? The kind you'll tell me about, I hope." Geralt asked, as he dismounted and led Roach to a stall.

"Aww, but Geralt! That would ruin it." Lambert said, as Geralt took off Roach's bridle.

"I guess I won't like it then." he unstrapped his horse's saddle and threw it onto a railing.

"Well, we'll see. Eskel likes his, but I hope you don't." Lambert said, turning back to his own horse.

Jackass.

Geralt left the stall and closed the door, bolting it shut. He left Lambert chuckling with the horses and walked through the courtyard, quickly reaching the great doors of the keep. Geralt eased one of them open, hoping it wouldn't make any noise. It did.

"Lambert, is that you?" he heard Vesemir calling from the eating area.

"No, just me." Geralt replied, getting closer to the glow of the fire.

"Ah, wolf. You're here, good. There's someone you should meet." the old witcher said

Geralt passed the last pillar as he spoke "Is it the surprise Lam-"

"YOU!" a girl next to Vesemir yelled, standing from the bench and pointing a finger at him. The dark-haired boy next to her almost fell off the bench due to her sudden movement, but quickly regained his balance.

"Me." he drawled out.

The girl scrambled around the table, nearly tripping in her haste. She stomped over to him, stopping only two feet away from him and saying "You're Geralt of Rivia." not waiting for an answer, she continued, "Where have you been?! Eskel and the others said that you always get here in September and they wouldn't let me train until you got here. They only trained Jon and I couldn't even have any of his salad! That's such a weird thing to say no to! Why!" she took a breath, having said all that in one go, and Geralt noticed something. She looks like princess Pavetta, the resemblance is unca- wait. Shit.

"You're Pavetta's." he closed his eyes tiredly.

"Yeah, I'm Ciri. You're child surprise. So, gonna let me train?" the first two parts she said angrily and on the last she crossed her arms, somehow managing to look down on him. Even though he's two feet taller.

Geralt looked at Ciri, then to Vesemir, who was smiling, and sighed. "Yes."

"HA!" she yelled, spun around, ran to the boy, Jon he guessed, grabbed him by the wrist saying "Come on, Jon!" and dragged him to the keep's doors.

POV Vesemir, Early December

The snow was piled high and the cold chilled Vesemir down to his weary bones. Today was the day he'll teach the children about 'Signs' and since most are destructive, they were in the exterior courtyard, near the dummies. This task would normally be left to Eskel, but he was out culling the harpies. So, the old witcher had to freeze.

"There are five basic witcher signs; Aard, a telekinetic blast to push your foes: Yrden, a trap that puts various effects on those inside, other than you of course: Igni, send flames out from your hand, in either a blast or stream: Quen, a magic shield that deflects all attacks, but uses an incredible amount of energy to sustain: Axii, a simple charm to confuse your enemies, calm animals or 'convince' others." Vesemir explained to them.

"We will start with Axii. As you can see, I have tied down two goats." he swept his hand to the small goats on his right, "I will use Axii to aggravate them, then you will use it to calm them." the children nodded and each stood before their own goat.

Vesemir asked if they were ready, at their nods he used the sign. First on Ciri's then Jon's. The children were quick to start trying Axii. Jon's movements were slightly clumsy at first, but he slowly perfected it. Ciri's started good and got better quickly.

At the one-minute mark, Vesemir thought it was about time for them to start getting it, but one minute passed to two, then three, five and then finally ten, where he had them stop. Strange, he thought, everyone should be able to at least use it to some effect by now.

He filed away those thoughts for later and had them move on to Aard. He showed them the finger movement and made a demonstration: blasting away a large pile of snow. The children tried and on his third attempt, Jon made a blast of his own, but it was odd. It seemed different somehow, so Vesemir had the boy use it on him.

Jon looked confused for a moment, but quickly complied. Jon performed the movements and then pushed his hand outward. The resulting blast shoved the witcher back, but that wasn't all. It was absolutely frigid; it burned his exposed skin with cold air. Vesemir filed this away as well.

He congratulated the boy and encouraged both him and Ciri to keep going. Ten minutes later he had both stop, Jon was close to turning the snow in front of him to ice and Ciri still hasn't managed it.

The next sign to go was Yrden, Vesemir made another demonstration by having both children walk into his Yrden circle. In it they both started moving slower, as though they were in water rather than air. After escaping the small circle, Ciri and Jon distanced themselves from Vesemir and each other and started.

Ten minutes passed and neither of them succeeded, Igni ended the same way and as did Quen. Vesemir was troubled by this, anyone should be able to produce something using a sign and Jon was capable of using magic. The old witcher was seen the boy turn a cup of water into an icy blade that would float in the air, but he could only use Aard. And not the usual one too. Ciri couldn't do any of them, which should be impossible.

Vesemir decided to talk to the others about this and had the children work on their swordsmanship.

POV Triss Merigold 1265

This is going to be wonderful, Triss thought as she watched Ciri apply the make-up as she had shown her.

Ciri had snuck into Triss' room that morning and asked her to teach her how to 'make herself look more like a girl'. Triss understood what the girl meant and agreed. As she showed Ciri, using herself to demonstrate, she poked and prodded the girl, trying to learn why she suddenly wanted to learn, but no matter how she asked she never got anything other than closed lips and a slight blush.

As Triss watched Ciri work, she was slightly shocked at how well she was doing. She put on slightly too much blush, but otherwise... everything was in the right place and she chose lovely colors. "How'd I do? How'd I do?" Ciri asked her, grinning.

"You did well." Triss gently laid her hands on Ciri's shoulders and leaned her head down next to hers. They both looked at each other in the mirror. "You look great!" Triss told her, and, truthfully, the girl did. The make-up made the princess look a little older, more mature and overall was made to look her title.

Ciri's grin somehow became wider as she rushed to the door calling Triss to follow her. She smiled as she hurried after the girl. The pair went down the stairs and onto the ground level, then to the eating area. Jon was there, alone, eating fried potatoes and bacon.

He was facing away from them and Ciri seemed to think sneaking up on him was the right choice. The girl walked right up to him, tapped his shoulder and stepped back. Jon turned to look at them, he was about to say something when he saw her. His eyes widened, jaw fell and the words died in his mouth. "So, do I look like a princess now?" Ciri asked, smug. Jon said nothing, he only stared at her, his eyes blank. After a moment, Ciri waved her hand in front of his face. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked Triss, who giggled and said "No, you did it right."

Triss led the confused girl away to show everyone else. She looked back to Jon, silently wishing him luck.

"Lady Merigold?" Jon asked as he entered her room.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Jon. Just call me Triss." the sorceress said, exasperated.

"Lady Tri-" he started.

She interrupted him with a glare.

"Triss?" he tried.

"Yes, Jon?" she said sweetly.

"Could you give me some instruction on cryomancy?"

Triss thought for a moment, she didn't specialise in spells. Her field of choice was potions and she only knew a few fire spells for self-defense. I could teach him some theory, give some tips.

"Well, I can teach you any spells..." his eyes drooped down, "But I can give you some advice." he looked back up to her, eyes shining.

Triss turned on what she called 'Rectoress Mode' and said "Magic is the art of becoming a conduit for chaos and bending it to your will. Channeling Chaos is draining on the body so you must know your limits and conserve energy, this is where spells come in. They are tools to help you focus and waste less of your energy."

She turned 'Rectoress Mode' off and said in a kinder voice, "The greatest limit is your imagination, you can make your own spells to suit you, Jon." Triss finished with a smile. Which proved contagious, a smile of his own forming.

Jon turned around and made his way to the door of her room. He opened it and started to walk out, but he stopped and turned his head to look at her. "Thank you, Triss." he said and then he left.

POV Jon, 1266 February

Jon was kneeling by the gate of Kaer Morhen, oiling his claymore. It was a gift from Eskel and the others, given to him the same day they gifted Ciri her sword, Zireael. Jon chose to follow her sword naming style and given his larger and dark steel sword; he chose the name 'Cerbin'.

He had heard of Geralt and Triss' decision to have Ciri train with a more spell inclined sorceress in Ellander. He has been waiting for them here, his bags were packed and his mare was tied to a pole next to him.

The trio arrived at dawn with their own bags and horses, the witchers following behind them to say farewell. Geralt seemed surprised to see Jon there, Triss had a sad smile and Ciri was looking at the ground.

Jon stood and put Cerbin in its scabbard on his back, a baldric scabbard. He walked over and said "Are we ready to go?"

Triss opened her mouth to speak, but Ciri stopped her by saying "You aren't coming, Jon."

Jon was stunned and unable to speak as she continued.

"Geralt says that the priestesses don't allow boys to live in their temple" she walked closer, "and that the mage who's going to teach me won't accept you." and closer, "S-so, you have to stay here." Ciri was standing right in front of him, her upturned face inches from his, "I am going to learn to control my power, so I won't hurt you. You have to stay here and become a witcher, a-alright?" she finished just before her voice was going to break.

Jon nodded dumbly and looked at his feet as Ciri looked to Triss, who gave her a nod. Ciri looked back to Jon with a small smile and said "Hey Jon." he looked back at her and she grabbed him by the head and pulled him down to her, before kissing him full on the lips.

She pulled away and said, "You get the next one when we see each other again." Then walked past him with quick steps. Geralt walked by next with two horses. Next was Triss with her grey mare, who gave him a hug he barely registered, his head too full of various, warring emotions. The two most prominent being Joy and sadness.

Eskel came up to him, wrapped an arm around his shoulder and lead him back to the keep. "Come on. Lambert get the vodka, Coën put the horse away." The witcher led Jon into the keep and straight to the eating area, Lambert and the bottles already there. Jon was sat down on the bench, a bottle was placed in his hand and the open top placed to his lips.

That was the first time Jon drank and the first time he got black out drunk.