In the early morning light, Aiden smiled softly at Lambert's face, his lover still sleeping soundly and his heartbeat a comforting staccato to Aiden's ears. Aiden slithered closer and rested his cheek against Lambert's chest, breath catching and body stilling as the contact made Lambert shift. Aiden didn't want to wake him and face his morning grumpiness just yet - even if it was adorable - he wanted this time to savour being in Lambert's arms.

He lay there until the first rays of the sun began to paint the horizon. "Lamby?" he called as he shifted to stroke Lambert's cheek. Lambert grunted, and he smiled. "We should get moving soon. The sun's rising."

Lambert made a noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt, and Aiden couldn't help but chuckle. He smirked when Lambert opened his eyes and slowly leaned in to softly kiss his lips. "Mornin', Wolf."

Lambert kissed Aiden back. He sighed as they parted, and his eyes slipped closed again. He nudged Aiden's foot with his own. "Ugh. Cats. I thought you were s'posed to be night people, not ass-crack of dawn people."

Aiden condescendingly patted Lambert's head. "Aw, poor wolfy boy. Were you up too late howling at the moon? Did you have too many dreams about chasing a really quick rabbit that outwitted you?"

Lambert raised two fingers in a rude gesture and shoved Aiden off the bedroll and into the dirt before rolling to his other side. "Fuck off, Cat. Make me coffee or something, you cruel bastard."

Aiden could tell by the shift in Lambert's breathing that his lover was already dropping back off to sleep. His Wolf always needed more sleep. He rolled his eyes, still smirking, and jabbed Lambert's shoulder. "Why would I make you coffee? Make it yourself, you bastard." Leaning in, he nipped at Lambert's neck, chuckling and jerking away from Lambert's hand swatting at him.

He got to his feet and, moving preternaturally quietly around their camp, he grabbed a change of clothes and headed off a ways for his morning ablutions before getting the fire going again and starting on a vegetable soup with hardtack for their breakfast. He left it and a smaller pot of water over the fire to boil while he packed up the horses.

Once the water was boiling and he could just about smell the vegetables cooking, he took the smaller pot off and added ground chicory root to it. After a few minutes of steeping, he'd pour it into two cups. He set those out along with the cheesecloth used to strain out the grounds and the honey to add a little sweetness, then found a map tucked in the pages of his journal. He opened it and spread it out on the blanket next to him, finger tracing the paper as he recalled what Dariush had told them the night before, working out a tentative route.

Lambert's nose twitched. He could smell the food and the rich, bitter aroma of their morning drink. With another groan, he lifted himself off the bedroll and stumbled over to the fire. "Gimme." He made an impatient grabbing motion with his hand.

Aiden rolled his eyes but poured the drink into a cup and handed it over. "Tsk, tsk. So rude. Did they not teach you manners at puppy school?"

Lambert growled and downed half of it. "You're lucky I like you, Kitty."

"Pssh." Aiden grinned. "You're lucky I like you, Puppy." He laughed, but it cut off when he saw Dariush shifting. "Look, you've woken the boy," he whispered loudly to Lambert. Lambert only glared at him while sipping his drink.

Dari's nose wrinkled with a pungent odour drawing him from his rather comfortable sleep. He yawned as he sat up and looked blearily around, his gaze settling on the two witchers by the renewed fire. "What's that awful smell?" His eyes widened, and he slapped a hand over his mouth.

Aiden laughed. The boy looked so adorable only half-awake with rumpled hair, sleep lines on his face, and that panicked expression on his face. "It's okay," he said as soothingly as he could, wanting the smell of panic to wash away. "You're fine. We know it smells bad - tastes bad, too. It's chicory root."

Dari's face slowly morphed from fear of the consequences of his runaway mouth to confusion. He pulled on his shoes and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders before moving closer to his masters and sitting just out of arm's reach from them. "If it tastes bad, why do you drink it?"

Lambert sniffed and slammed back the rest of his drink, gasping and then belching. He chucked the empty cup at Aiden's head. "We drink it because it's like coffee, but we're broke as shit. This shit is free and does the same thing. And it's not that bad. Aiden's just a spoiled fucker."

Aiden nodded as he gave their still-cooking breakfast a stir. "Yeah. We gather this in the woods and roast and grind it ourselves."

"Oh." Dari glanced dubiously at them both. "Then you need more coin." He nodded decisively. "Coffee tastes and smells nice. Or it does when Piotr makes it. When Piotr was in the kitchens in the mornings, he would make me a cup, too, when I came to fetch the master's food." He yawned again, this time covering his mouth, and then settled in with his arms around his legs and his chin on his knees. "I am sorry I woke so late. Is there anything I should help you with?"

"Nah, kid. Just relax for now. Grub'll be up soon. Once we eat, we'll finish taking down camp, then hit the road." Lambert did as he was telling Dariush to do and leaned back onto his elbows and stretched out his legs. He tipped his head back onto Aiden's lap and smirked when their eyes met. Aiden pulled the map closer and held it above Lambert's head so he could see, and together they settled on the most likely places Dariush could be from and agreed on a route, which would see them heading back through Theodula Pass and then on southwest towards the coast.

The rest of their early morning passed quietly. They ate when the food was ready, and Dari helped to wash the dishes and eagerly learned how a witcher cleared their camps and made it seem almost as if no one had been there. Soon, with the sun still low in the sky, they headed back towards Belhaven. Dari thought he might die if he had to see that town one more time, but hopefully this time would be the last.

On the road, Dari found himself in between Master Lambert and Master Aiden's horses. He carefully eyed both horses in turn and, eventually, he couldn't keep quiet any longer. Master Lambert had said he was allowed to ask whatever questions he wanted. "Master Lambert?"

Lambert squinted down at the overly quiet runt walking between him and Aiden. "Hm?"

Dari bit his lip and tilted his head to the side as he looked up at Master Lambert. "What is the name of your horse?"

"Horse."

Dari was so shocked by that answer, that he stopped right where he was and stared, open-mouthed, at the still moving witchers. He sputtered wordlessly for a moment before finding his words. "…Your horse's name is…Horse?" His voice was almost a squeak, it was so choked with indignation.

Lambert stopped his horse so they wouldn't get too far away from the kid and turned towards him. "Yes, what of it?" Lambert's eyes narrowed defensively.

Dari continued to stare.

Aiden also stopped his horse and, at the look of horrified judgement on Dariush's face combined with Lambert's discomfort at being called on his bullshit by a kid, he started laughing. And he laughed so long and hard that his horse began to grow antsy, so he had to slide out of the saddle, down to the ground. It brought tears to his eyes and cramps to his stomach. "Ow, ow," he said between laughs that had grown so deep, they'd become silent. He opened his eyes and found both Lambert and Dariush staring at him, and it set him off again.

Lambert huffed. "Oh, for… Come on. If you don't get up now, I'm gonna leave your ass here. I'll see you in Belhaven." He clicked his heels against his horse to get moving again.

"Wait! Wait!" Aiden cried as he scrambled up, wiping tears away. He re-mounted his horse and quickly caught up to them. "Fuck, I think I needed that." Lambert tossed him a look that promised nettles in his underthings or some other nonsense, and Aiden grinned broadly. He was up for whatever Lambert might throw his way.

After another long stretch of silence, Dari spoke up again. "Master Aiden?"

Just that was nearly enough to set Aiden off again. He smirked and his eyes darted to the side to catch Lambert's venomous glare. "Yes?"

"What's the name of your horse?"

Aiden chuckled and shook his head. "It's Horse With No Name." Lambert would never let him live this down, and he could already see the glee blossoming on Lambert's face.

"Your…" Dari was truly baffled. "Your horse has no name?" What was wrong with Witchers?

Aiden snorted. "No. Its name is 'Horse With No Name'." He waved a hand. "It's a long story."

"Oh," Dari replied thoughtfully. "Well… Perhaps, sir, if you wanted, you could tell the story? This is a long journey."

"Yeah, Aiden," Lambert chimed in. "We've got plenty of time. Tell us the story of your horribly named horse." He smirked.

Aiden rolled his eyes skyward. "Fine. It's not that long of a story anyway. Firstly, this isn't my horse. I'm just…borrowing him. You know there are different schools of witchers, right?"

Dari titled his head to the side, then shook it. "No, sir."

"Well. There are. There's seven different schools - Cat, where I'm from, Crane, Manticore, Viper, Griffin, Bear, and Wolf, where Lambert's from. Because we're not psychotic lone wolf puppies," Aiden grinned at Lambert's growl, "most of our horses belong to everyone. A long time ago, there used to be a castle where Cat witchers lived and were trained. But we lost the castle over a hundred years ago, and ever since, we've travelled around together in a caravan. We don't always all stay with the caravan, as you can see, and, when we leave, we can take one of the spare horses with us. So he's not my horse, and I didn't name him.

"Now, the name. Once upon a time, there was a Cat trainee who was a bit of a dick like Lambert here." Aiden grinned and ducked and his hand shot out to snatch the coin Lambert had thrown at him from the air. "Thanks, Lamby. Anyway, he didn't want to name his horse, either, because witchers sometimes go through a lot of horses - it's dangerous, you know, with all the monsters - and he told everyone his future horse would be a Zerrikanian steed, and he'd call it Horse With No Name.

"Then he was killed during the siege when we lost the castle – he died protecting a bunch of the younger kids. So, one of the old trainers decided to go get a Zerrikanian steed and give it that name. Voila! Been a tradition ever since."

"Your Toussainti needs work," Lambert said dryly. He ducked the coin that sped towards his head but couldn't catch it like Aiden had. Before he could say anything, Dariush hurried over to the coin and picked it up, offering it up to him. He smirked at the boy, the expression tinged fond. "You keep it, kid."

Dari's brows immediately furrowed, and he more insistently held out the coin. "I cannot, Master. A slave cannot have coin. A slave cannot have a Master's coin. A—"

Aiden took pity on the boy who was clearly becoming overwhelmed by Lambert's suggestion. "Keep the coin. That's probably the only coin Lambert had in easy reach on him, so if he doesn't have it, he can't throw it at me. You're just keeping it safe for him. That's all. Didn't your old dickface—" he caught Dariush's reproachful look "—master ever give you anything of value to look after?"

Dari's nose wrinkled and his fingers curled tentatively around the coin. "Mm… Sometimes, I suppose, if I was helping with his market stalls. And he let me help him keep his accounting books and assist in drafting correspondence. I cannot read or write," he was quick to assure, even if it wasn't the whole truth, "but the master would read them aloud and I would help him…interpret the meaning of the words."

Aiden smiled gently at the boy. "You sound like a smart kid — not kid," he hastily amended, "young man, then, who can be trusted with just one coin."

"Yes, master," Dari finally relented, and, when no one was looking, he slipped the coin into his secret pocket. The horses distracted him again, and he turned back to their previous conversation, a new question burning in his mind. "Do all witchers give their horses such…unusual names?" A witcher's horse deserved a suitable name.

Lambert and Aiden grinned identically. "Yes," they said in unison, both thinking of Geralt. "But I do have a brother," Lambert said. "His horse is called Scorpion."

"Oh!" Dari exclaimed. He nodded approvingly. "Yes, Scorpion is a very suitable name for a witcher's horse."

Aiden and Lambert shared an amused look that this boy would have an apparently strong opinion on the topic. "You think so?" Aiden asked. "What makes a suitable name for a witcher's horse?"

"Yes, sir," Dari nodded enthusiastically. "'Scorpion' sounds powerful and frightful - like a witcher. A witcher's horse goes into battle with him, does he not? So he should have a fearsome name to match his fearsome deeds." He looked up to Aiden and Lambert for validation. "Yes?"

"Sounds like you thought about this a lot," Lambert said with a smirk and another shared look with Aiden.

Dari shrugged and watched his feet as he walked along the road. "Sometimes, as a slave, there is not much to do but to think. Sometimes the body is kept busy, but the mind is free, or the body… Sometimes one might wish that one was not in the body, and the mind…distracts."

Lambert barked a sharp, loud laugh, and he nodded. "Here, here. I'd drink to that, kid. Fuck it. Where's the alcohol? Let's have a drink." He directed his horse closer to Aiden's, reaching out for his packs.

"The sun isn't even up, Lamb!" Aiden trotted his horse away.

"So what? You're not my mother. Give it over."

"Get your own."

"I can't reach my own. I could reach the white gull, but it is a little early for that." Lambert grinned.

Aiden rolled his eyes and sidestepped his horse closer, careful to keep far enough ahead of Dariush so as to not spook the horse. "Main pack, back left pocket," he said. "There's a wineskin."

Lambert snorted and fished out the skin, sniffing before taking a generous sip. "This is good. Mettina rose? Where'd you steal this?"

"I didn't." Aiden punched Lambert's shoulder. "It was partial payment for a job out near Mil Trachta."

"Hm. It's good, but I think they shorted you."

"Yeah, probably, but I didn't want to argue, and the job wasn't that bad." Aiden shrugged and snatched the skin back from Lambert to have a drink. "Besides, free alcohol tastes better." He grinned.

Lambert nodded, stole the thing back, and swigged it before holding it out to the kid. "Hey, kid. You want some?"

Dari's eyebrows lifted as he glanced back and forth between Aiden and Lambert. "Truly?"

Lambert's grin took on a feral tinge, and he ignored the look Aiden directed towards him. He could practically hear Aiden's thoughts. "Yeah, 'course. I'm not gonna trick you. Not like that," he amended. "If I say something is okay for you to do, then I mean it. The same as if I say something isn't okay for you to do. Got it?"

Dari still looked hesitant, but he took the skin and had a small sip, frowning thoughtfully as he handed it back. "It is not bad. A little dry to my taste. Thank you, master."

Lambert laughed. "Well, that clearly wasn't your first time trying alcohol. See, Aiden? He's already corrupted."

Dari shook his head. "No, sir. I have had watered-down mead and beers before. Beer is common when we cannot be sure the water is safe. I like mead."

"If we keep him long enough, we could turn him into a proper drinker," Lambert said with approval as he passed the skin back to Aiden.

"No," Aiden immediately replied. "We're not further corrupting the kid." Lambert pouted but Aiden ignored him with just the tiniest hint of a smile about his lips. They passed the skin back and forth to each other a few times before putting it away.

They reached Belhaven at lunch, just as they had the day before. The witchers dismounted and hitched their horses just outside the city before continuing on to the market. Dari smiled his thanks and bowed when Master Lambert bought him more of the pastries they had had the previous day, and he happily wandered behind the two witchers as he ate, not really paying attention to what the masters were doing until an intruder approached their group.

Dari's back straightened and he unconsciously stepped closer to the witchers. The man felt bad, and the witchers sensed it, too, for Master Lambert placed a hand on his shoulder and Master Aiden stepped partially in front of him.

"Ay, there, Witcher," the townsman said with his eyes locked on Master Lambert. "Come back for more, have you? Haven't you taken enough from us already?" His eyes cut to the boy, and he scowled. "What poor bastard d'ya steal him from, then? Gonna take him away from his kin and mangle him into a mutant just like you? That's what you witchers do best, isn't it?" He spat at their feet. "Or will you just slaughter him and use him in some black magic ritual?"

Dari winced slightly as his master's fingers tightened around his shoulder and dug into him.

Master Aiden kicked Lambert - Dari felt his foot brush against his leg - and lifted his hands in supplication. "We don't want any trouble," he said. "We just need a few supplies, then we'll be on our way. We'll be gone within an hour. You have my word."

"Oh, yeah?" the man replied, clearly unimpressed as he folded his arms imposingly across his chest. "And what's the word of a disgusting mutant like you worth?" Compared to Master Aiden's slim form, this man was very broad and obviously muscled, and his skin was tan in a way that suggested a living made of hard, outdoor labour. But Dari knew a witcher would win a fight. Maybe this man ploughed the fields and was strong as an ox, but Master Aiden was an expert fighter and ten times as strong as an ox, Dari was sure, even if he didn't look it, all lithe and graceful.

Dari's eyes darted to Master Aiden and saw his lips twitch and his face harden ever so slightly. Both his masters were growing increasingly agitated, so, with a deep breath, he lifted his chin, squared his shoulders, and stepped forward. "Witchers may be mutants, but their word is trustworthy, and they have not stolen me from anyone. They are heroes. They saved me from a monster in the pass. I was separated from my family, and they are helping me to return to them."

The man snorted loudly and inelegantly. "If you believe that, boy, you deserve what you get," he said as he stared imperiously down his nose at Dari. His eyes found the witchers again. "Fine. You have one hour. If you ain't got gone by then, we'll see to it that you do, one way or the other." Spitting once more at their feet, the man turned and walked away.

Dari sighed softly and stepped back into the safety of the witchers' shadows, and they both angled their bodies towards him, looking at each other over his head.

"Do we want to split up?" Aiden asked. "We'll be done quicker."

Lambert shook his head quick and sharp. "No. I'm not leaving you alone with shits like that around. I know you could take him, if it was just him, but…" But they both knew - it was never just one. "We'll stick together and be fast." He roughly ruffled Dariush's hair and ignored the flinch. "We have our little knight in shining armour to defend us."

Aiden laughed and ruffled Dariush's hair, too, smirking at the pout on the boy's face and how he immediately tried to rearrange his hair. "Yes. Very brave, isn't he?" The tone was teasing but the words were genuinely meant. "Come on, little sir knight. Let's get shit done and get the hell out of this town."

Dari nodded and followed them to the stalls. Their first stop was a silversmith selling daggers and knives, along with holsters and other related items, which was boring, so he wandered slightly away, Master Aiden shadowing him, to browse a merchant selling trinkets and jewellery. An intricate, palm-sized sundial compass made of copper that could be hung from a chain caught his eye, and he also lingered over the rings and necklaces set with beautiful jewels that shone in the light of the sun. He clasped his hands behind his back to resist the urge to touch, hyper aware of the merchant's disapproving glare - the comments kept at bay, he assumed, by the Witcher at his side.

When Master Lambert finished with the silversmith, Dari reluctantly left the stall he was at and followed to the next. This time, he was forced to try on multiple pairs of uncomfortable socks and boots until the masters found a pair for him that satisfied them both. Dari had no idea what made any of the pairs different from each other, aside from the obvious such as their height on his leg. He hadn't liked any of them, but it wasn't up to him, and now the uncomfortable contraptions were on his feet as they continued their walk around the market.

A few more stops and one bedroll meant for him later and they were headed back out of town, stopping to unhitch the horses and find space to secure the bedroll to a pack. Everyone was quiet until they were well on their way down the road that led towards Theodula Pass.

"I want to make it through the pass before nightfall," Lambert said, eyeing Dariush.

Aiden glanced at Lambert then to the boy. "Can he do that?"

Even if he were used to it, Dari didn't like it when people talked over him like this, but he knew it wasn't his place to interrupt.

Lambert shrugged. "Probably not. Your horse has got less weight. I want him to ride with you for a few hours so we can make some good time."

Aiden stared without blinking for several seconds before shrugging, too. "Yeah, sure, fine." He pulled up his horse and hopped off before gesturing at Dariush. "I'll help you up."

Dari looked dubiously between Master Aiden's hands and the tall horse. He'd seen people mount horses, of course, so he theoretically knew how it was done, but all of those people had been older and taller, with the exception of the son of a previous master but that boy had had a block to stand on and assistance from servants. "How?" he finally asked out loud when it seemed neither of them would answer his question without hearing it.

"Probably gonna have to pick you up," Aiden replied cheerily. "You're a bit scrawny - no offence - and this horse really isn't your size." He gestured again. "So, come on. I'll pick you up by the waist and hold you up while you put your left foot in the stirrup and swing your right leg over. Got it?"

Dari held back a heavy sigh. "Yes, sir," he said with great reluctance. Inside, he felt a welling of excitement. He'd never been allowed on a horse before - and riding looked so fun - but he didn't want to be picked up like a baby or a doll to do it. But there was nothing for it, so he stepped forward, turning to face the horse, and held his breath.

Standing at his side, Master Aiden reached out for him and picked him up like he weighed nothing - he was right about Aiden having the strength of 10 oxen. Being so swiftly in the air, he felt off balance and, without thought, steadied himself by putting his hand on Aiden's arm. Aiden reminded him of what he was meant to be doing, and he put his foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over. The horse seemed much bigger from up here.

Seconds later, Aiden swung up behind him, and Dari jumped when Aiden's arms slid across his sides when he reached for the reins. His heart raced and his fingers bunched around his tunic where his hands lay in his lap.

Aiden chuckled. "Relax, Dariush. You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

Dari nodded, but his chest still felt tight even if he knew the witcher would do as he said.

They headed off, slowly, at first, to allow the horse time to get used to carrying the extra weight, and then gradually increasing the pace. They alternated between cantering and walking for the next few hours as they put Belhaven behind them and entered the pass.

Dari's panic began to ease up as the discomfort of riding a horse made itself known more strongly than the fear which had at least been partly soothed by Aiden's presence. He couldn't help but shift every so often, minute movements trying in vain to find a better position. He couldn't wait to get off this horse.

Just as it was getting too dark to continue on, and the horses were growing too tired, they exited the pass. Aiden helped him down, and both witchers dismounted as they walked a little further to find a suitable place to camp. Dari automatically began to help with the tasks he'd been shown previously, and soon, the camp was made with a fire going, the bedrolls set out - his own one set not too far from the masters' - and dinner cooking.

They ate heartily, though Dari was almost too tired to finish his own food, and he fell onto his bedroll with his boots and outer clothes still on, curled up under his blanket.

Aiden shared a smile with Lambert and, once he could tell the boy was deeply asleep, he knelt down beside him and carefully took the boots off. He would reapply the salve and redress Dariush's feet in the morning before they set off. After making the camp safe for the night, he joined Lambert to sleep, their bedrolls once again placed side-by-side by Dariush.

Compared to the previous day, their pace of travel the next day was sedate. Given the worsening blisters on his feet, the masters were allowing him to take a break from the boots for the day, and Dari was enjoying the freedom while it lasted, wiggling his toes every chance he got as they walked along in a vague south-southwesterly direction. Idly, Dari wondered if they would catch up to his old master who would be travelling a similar direction on his return to Nilfgaard.

"Hey, kid," Lambert called when the silence finally got to him.

Dari glanced up. "Yes, sir?"

"Yesterday, with that oaf. You didn't need to stick up for us or anything. We can handle it ourselves. Actually, don't do it again. I don't want you to accidentally start something that we have to fight our way out of. Got it?"

Dari nodded slowly. "Yes, master. I apologise. I will not do it again." He sighed softly. "I just wish that people would not treat you like that."

Lambert smiled lopsidedly. "Aw, kid, we're used to it."

Dari looked away, back to the road, and was quiet for a few moments before responding softly, "You should not be." He paused again as the injustice of it all welled up in him. "They should be grateful. They should treat you like any of the other gods. Just as those gods protect them in birth and safeguard harvests and such... Witchers should be the patron gods of protection from monsters."

Lambert's brows furrowed together in his puzzlement, and he glanced to Aiden for confirmation that his senses weren't misleading him. "…You really believe that." He grinned. "I'd clearly be the best god out there, but I think it might go to Aiden's head. I could use some worshipping and some tribute."

Dari nodded sharply, indignant. "Yes, of course. I have heard the stories. It is one thing for people to treat slaves in that manner, but Witchers fight monsters. Witchers save people from monsters. They are heroes, and we should respect them and be grateful to them for their help to keep us safe from that which we could not survive on our own. Witchers are mutants because people made them so - or, the mages did, and mages are horrible - so why should they be mistreated for something that was not their doing? If you have mice and need a cat to keep your kitchens free of them, would you ostracise the cat? Of course you would not. You would ensure the cat has a place to rest and water to drink." He catches sight of the twin amused looks on his masters' faces and stops his rant, pursing his lips.

Lambert smirked fondly. "If only everyone felt like you, kid."

Dari nodded. "If they did, then perhaps the world would be an easier place for Witchers. As it should be, given their role in the world."

"People shouldn't treat slaves like that, either."

Dari shrugs. "I do not see why not. Witchers and slaves are not the same."

"Maybe that's a talk for another day, but anyway it doesn't even matter. You're not a slave anymore."

"I will always be a slave, just as you will always be a Witcher."

"…That's not true. You have to know that's not true. You didn't even start out as a slave - you said it yourself! You were kidnapped."

Dari tilted his head in acknowledgement as he looked up at Master Lambert. "I was moulded into this, and I do not know how to be anything else. I do not think it is possible. Once a slave…" He shrugged. "If I ever was, I am no longer human." The words didn't ring true, even to his own ears, but he tried every day to convince himself of it, so his experiences would make sense.

Lambert snorted. "You're definitely human." He sniffed the air. "We'd know if you weren't. But enough of that. Why are you still calling us master? Even if you were still a slave, we're not your masters. We're just…your Witchers. Escorting you to…somewhere you can live."

Dari almost smiled at how his master characterised himself and Aiden. "Hm. Even if you were not slave masters… I have had masters in charge of me for almost as long as I can remember. A master is simply someone in charge of me who determines what I do and what happens to me. They also teach me and care for me, whether harshly or not, that is up to the master. You did save me from a monster, and you are witchers, so I suppose in those senses you are my witchers. But you are also my masters. Besides, there is nothing else that I could call you."

"You could just call us by our names."

Dari shot Lambert an incredulous look with one eyebrow raised. "I could not. Sir."

"Well, we had masters. They trained us in how to be Witchers. They weren't kind." Lambert shifted on his horse. Now that he'd said it out loud, he realised that it was what made him most uncomfortable with the kid calling him 'master'. He'd hated them, their masters, the trainers, and everyone like them, and he didn't want to be equated with them, even if only by some throwaway title that the kid used.

Dari nodded placidly. "Not all masters are. Some are kinder than others, some crueller." He glanced furtively to Lambert and took a deep breath, a hopeful note to his voice. "Would you like to know what I think, sir?"

Lambert and Aiden caught each other's eyes and smirked. "Sure, kid, why not. Tell me."

Dari frowned thoughtfully, though it didn't take him long to answer. "Masters have power, in many ways. Especially over slaves, who do not own their bodies. A slave's body is a master's to do with as they please. Some masters enjoy having this power and reminding you that they have it. I do not like masters of that sort. Every time I have been sold to a new master, I have hoped that my new master would be a true master. A true master is someone who has the power but does not use it in that manner. They are firm but kind. When they provide correction, it is straightforward and proportionate. They ensure your needs are met and that, if you have any talents, these are encouraged and used."

Lambert laughed. "Kid, I think that's what they call parents. Not that my parents were like that - my father was a piece of shit, like your masters, but from what I've heard. And, who knows? Maybe you'll get your wish. Maybe we'll find your parents, and they'll be like that for you. But, kid. Shit. We don't own you. If you wanted to leave right now, we'd let you. And I get that about feeling your body isn't yours. It's the same with Witchers, at least when we're young and training. We don't have a choice in it, it happened to us no matter what we wanted. But, now, your body is yours. Unless it's to save your life, we're not gonna do anything to you without your permission. Got it?"

The doubtful look on Dari's face remained throughout Lambert's reply. His brow furrowed. "Wait… Witchers are made from humans?" He looked first to Lambert, then to Aiden, and back. "You were not born as a Witcher?"

"No, kid," Lambert said almost in a laugh. "Thought you said you'd heard the stories?"

Dari's frown deepened. "I have heard stories. But I did not hear that. I thought that the first Witchers were made by the mages, but then that all the other Witchers were born from them. Or that mages created all Witchers from nothing. I did not realise Witchers were made from humans."

Lambert shook his head. "Nah. We're all made. Like Aiden said last night, we were forced to go through a bunch of Trials when we were kids, the first of which changed our bodies from human to Witcher. And they didn't ask us if we wanted it - or listen to us if we said we didn't. There was no choice. And becoming a Witcher means we're incapable of having kids."

"Oh." Dari's face fell, and to Lambert's nose, his scent turned sad. "That is… I did not know it was like that, that Witchers are like slaves."

"Eh," Lambert said with a shrug. "It's not so bad. At least once we're fully fledged Witchers, we're out on the Path on our own. No masters or anything. Some Witchers say we're in a guild and shit, but we're not. We're all on our own."

Dari tilted his head to concede that point. "Still… Your body changes - permanently? I assume you cannot return to being a human. And then… you fight monsters, but if you didn't want to, if you wished to do something else, could you? Are there witchers who do not fight monsters as their trade?"

"Nah, probably not. We'd always be a Witcher to them, even if we weren't hunting monsters. We can't hide the changes from the mutations, and we can never be human again."

Dari nodded and fell into a saddened, contemplative silence as they journeyed onwards.

12