A/N: So many lovely comments this week, thank you one and all. I had a bit of a rough patch with these next few chapters, but got through it and am now shooting my way through chapter 19. As was probably obvious from last week, Vesemir is in this story. I have set it roughly right before the Witcher 3 game, but there are differences due to it technically being a different timeline where Ellie came through. There will also be some spoilers for the Hearts of stone expansion later down the line, so a heads up if you don't want any. That's enough from me, I'll see you all next week and leave you to read, review and enjoy! :)

Chapter 14

'Open the fucking gate Vesemir.' Lambert shouted.

Eskel and Geralt both gave him looks of outrage but he'd been travelling long enough that he didn't give a nekker's nuts what the old coot thought of his attitude.

'Ever the diplomat Lambert. I see another year on the Path hasn't improved your manners.' Vesemir said sourly.

'Nope, and they're only going to get worse the longer I'm out here.' He sniped back. He felt a swell of satisfaction as the old witcher's mouth twisted into a disapproving line before he retracted his head muttering, 'Give me a second.'

'You need to show him more respect.' Geralt said.

Lambert sneered at his brother. 'And I will, when the rigid old bastard relaxes.' Eskel let out a low chuckle as the ancient portcullis creaked open.

'Yeah, like that'll ever happen.' He said, giving Blue eyes a wink. A knot of jealousy twisted in Lambert's gut. Eskel and the girl had been getting closer and closer since they had begun travelling together. He knew it was because the older witcher was probably the most approachable out of the lot of them. He always knew what to say to defuse a situation, or make someone feel better after a shitty round of training, but seeing the way Blue eyes gravitated towards him made Lambert want to punch something. Really hard.

The gate finished its sluggish trajectory up with a loud boom. The old man was getting slow in his age, there was a time he could raise it in under ten seconds alone. Now it took him thirty. The witchers rode through the entrance way, and into the timeless, if not very run down, training yard. Lambert felt his mood already darkening as he took in the training dummies lined against the wall, the ramshackle stables off to one side and the gruelling, and achingly familiar assault course set high on the walls above them. He grimaced as he pulled Whoreson to a halt, taking in the bitter sweet feeling of being home.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the stocky figure of Vesemir approaching them. The other two dismounted and moved to embrace the older witcher. Lambert watched from his horse, Blue eyes as still as stone in front of him, although her head was turned to the reunion happening next to them.

'How you been Vesemir? Still spending your retirement looking after this old place I see.' Eskel patted his teacher heartily on the back. His scarred face beaming.

'I wouldn't call it a retirement.' Vesemir chuckled, turning towards Geralt he pulled him into a hug. 'It's been too long White wolf. I look forward to hearing all your tales, it's the closest I come to any action these days.'

Geralt snorted. 'We'll let Lambert start.'

Vesemir turned towards the still mounted Lambert, his keen eyes focusing on his passenger again. 'Yes, I think we will.'

Taking a few steps forward, the old witcher's expression was granite hard. As he got within two feet of the horse and its two riders, his nostrils flared as he scented the air. Lambert felt Ellie stiffen, and he could sense her nervousness at being analysed.

'I was hoping you could help me with something actually.' Lambert said, hoping to distract Vesemir and find a better time to break the news of his visitor to him gently.

'Oh yes?' The old witcher replied, his eyes zeroing in on Lambert, narrowed to fine slits now. 'And what exactly can I help you with seeing as you've brought a stranger into our sanctuary.'

Lambert felt his temper flare, but he kept a tight lid on it. Think like Eskel, he thought, diplomacy is the only way through this.

'Lambert thought he'd bring a demon with him for the winter.' Geralt's gruff voice interrupted before Lambert could reply. The very thin veneer of patience he had managed to summon cracked dangerously, and he glared at his brother. He had always been a taddle tail.

'Thanks, you fucking whoreson.' He spat, swinging down from his horse and placing himself strategically between Blue eyes and his old teacher. Vesemir's eyes had shot open at Geralt's revelation, and Lambert could smell the adrenaline now pounding through the old coot's dried up veins. Great, this was going just great.

'A…demon, Lambert? What in Melitele's wisdom were you thinking?' His voice had that stern edge to it that Lambert had heard many times in his youth. It signalled an impending beating for his misdemeanours, but he wasn't a boy anymore and this was his argument to win.

'If you'll just hear me out, I can explain everything. She's not a threat, I swear.'

'Never, in my six hundred years have I had a pupil so idiotic and hot headed as you. Why do you think I'll listen to reason from a man who barely knows the meaning of the word?'

Lambert clenched his teeth together. I mean…the man had a point, but still…he had hoped there was more trust amongst his fellow wolves than this. He held up his hands, forcing his pride down, and dipped his head ever so slightly as he looked at the older witcher.

'Please Vesemir. I'm begging you to listen.' At this Vesemir's enraged expression softened with surprise. Taking a step back he regarded the girl watching all of this from atop his horse. There was a very tense moment of silence, in which Lambert could see Geralt's own mistrustful look towards him and Blue eyes – he'd get him later – and Eskel's concerned expression as he witnessed this awkward introduction.

'Fine.' Vesemir finally said. 'I will listen. But you are under trial as well boy, mark my words.' He jabbed a finger at Lambert before turning and stalking back up to the keep. Lambert felt a roiling anger at the diminutive term, but impressively managed to remain silent. Geralt gave them both another look of caution as he followed his mentor.

Once they were alone in the training yard Eskel let out a low whistle. 'Well, that was an interesting arrival.' He came over to them, his gaze fixed on Blue eyes. 'You alright El? I thought the old guy was gonna' chop you in half right here in the entrance.'

'Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing I haven't seen before.' Her voice was sad and small, and Lambert felt another surge of anger towards Vesemir and Geralt for the way that had gone.

'Fucking Geralt. You know, would it hurt him to remove his head from Vesemir's ass once in a while?' Eskel gave him a critical look.

'Go easy Lambert, you know Geralt's had some pretty intense run in's with demons in the past.' He saw the girl straighten on the horse at this but he was tired and crochety from their bumpy welcome, and he really just wanted to sit down and recover from their journey.

'Let's get this over with. I don't want to give the old bastard any more reasons to hate me.' The girl slid off Whoreson, an uncertain look in her eyes. They were a sky blue but there were definitely clouds on the horizon. Leaving his horse with the other two in the stables, Lambert led the three of them up through the secondary and third walls until they came to the main keep entrance.

The place was only just standing; massive cracks zig-zagged their way up the sheer walls. The tops of the towers disintegrating, leaving great slabs of fallen stone dotted around the inner courtyard. Weeds and plants pushed up through the cobblestone. It seemed that Kaer Morhen had done a good job of keeping out foes but nature was something that could not be held at bay. Even though he held an unnaturally vivid disdain for the place, Lambert felt a twinge of regret at how run down the keep had become in just a year.

Pushing their way through the double oak doors, Lambert and Eskel trod the familiar path to the main hall. The cavernous room was equal parts cluttered with all the old, dusty furniture and equipment that came with a witcher school, and equals parts noticeably empty. Empty of the hundred or so witchers that it was meant to house. In its prime the hall would have been filled with long wooden tables and benches, for the witchers and their students to eat at. They would have been ranked in order of status and experience. With the elder witchers, mainly the teachers, seated at the end of the hall next to the gaping maw of the fireplace, and the youngest boys seated nearest the door.

Lambert remembered with reluctant clarity the first time he had walked through the doors and set eyes on the imposing arched buttresses made of the same grey stone as the mountains outside. The walls lined with the school's most valuable and prestigious trophies. He had been most alarmed by the snarling fiend's head that had been mounted close to the door, and remembered flinching from it. However, a dead fiend was nothing to the sight of dozens of glowing amber eyes watching him hungrily, as he shuffled with the group of boys he had arrived with to be introduced to the grandmaster, a witcher called Rennes. At his side had been Vesemir, his gaze disapproving, as it would remain for the rest of Lambert's life in the keep.

The old witcher was stood by that same fire now. His arms were crossed and he watched with eyes lit by the firelight as Lambert approached. Sat on the only table still in use was Geralt, his hands clasped in front of him. He looked over from the conversation he had been having with another person who wasn't high on his friend list. Lambert's mouth twisted into a sneer as he recognised the auburn hair and forest green eyes of Triss Merigold. She returned the look, having never quite seen eye to eye with the bitter witcher.

'What's she doing here?' He asked, stomping up to the table and staring down at the sorceress with a contemptuous look.

'She has a name you know.' She replied.

'Apologies Merigold, I forgot you preferred the formality of the courts to our course witcher ways.' He stopped short of bowing sarcastically to her, but Geralt and Vesemir still gave him venomous looks. He'd almost forgotten what was happening, so pissed off he'd been about Merigold's unexpected presence. Then the sound of light footsteps stopping behind him and the sorceress' wary glance over his shoulder reminded him.

'So, demon. I assume you can speak for yourself in this matter? Melitele knows Lambert isn't going to do you any favours.' Vesemir addressed the girl stood behind him. He was using the same voice he reserved for when Lambert had done something particularly devious but wanted the boy to confess first.

An expectant silence fell over the hall, as everyone looked at the strange girl in their midst. She stood, off to one side, still wearing his tatty spare shirt and her odd cut off trousers. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach, an anxiousness about her posture. It was the most scared he'd seen her since the witcher attack. Her now royal blue eyes darted from face to face, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

They were gathered around her in a semi-circle. Lambert stood the closest, by her right shoulder. There was something about the way the other witchers and Merigold looked at them, even Eskel had a serious expression, that made Lambert's skin prickle ominously. There was a small shift by his side as the girl took in a deep breath, preparing to make her defence to the stand.

'I don't really know what I can say to assure you I'm not here to hurt you.' Her eyes went from Vesemir to Geralt. 'I mean…I've not harmed Lambert since he found me. And I didn't attack you on the journey here.' She shrugged, her eyes flicking to Lambert. 'All I can do is hope you believe me and help me understand why I'm here. He brought me here for that reason, no other. Don't punish him for his kindness.'

A long, lingering silence fell after she finished her case. Lambert a little shell shocked from her final statement. Him…kind? Now they'd be certain she was deranged. Vesemir regarded her for a moment, then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'I don't know much about your kind. Hearsay and books are the limit of my knowledge. I do know, however, that demons are notoriously deceptive and dangerous. Geralt has had intimate experience with them.' At this he turned to the White wolf, his expression grim. 'What say you? You travelled with the creature.'

Lambert felt Blue eyes flinch slightly at the word 'creature'. A cold anger towards the old witcher flooded through him. Geralt said nothing for a time, staring unblinking at the girl next to him.

'She claims to be half human.' He started, his gravelly voice slow. 'She also claims to be harmless but I've witnessed her leap halfway up a mountain, and down a witcher with a powerful, unknown magic.' The cold anger filled Lambert's gut and he clenched his fists as he listened to his brother's testimony. 'I don't think she has deceived Lambert, nor do I believe she has made a pact with her. But I do think his judgement has been clouded…for other reasons.'

The anger turned from ice to flaming hot in a matter of seconds as Geralt turned his stony gaze on Lambert. Merigold raised her eyebrows and gave him an odd look that only served to stoke the fire. 'What a fortunate time for you to find your voice.' He bit out through tightly clenched teeth. 'I don't think I've heard you speak so eloquently without a barrel of ale inside you.'

Geralt raised an eyebrow at his brother's sarcastic comment. 'Enough.' Vesemir's rough voice drew them away from their glaring contest. 'You will have your say Lambert, but there are others you've now involved and I need to hear their opinions.' He gave his most troublesome pupil a cold stare. 'As hard as that is for you to stomach.'

The young witcher shot an angry glance around the room. The only pair of sympathetic eyes he found were Eskel's and that did nothing to calm his temper.

'With all due respect, mine is the only opinion that gives you the whole picture. I was the one to find her, I'm the one who has been with her the longest.' At this he looked down at the strange, confusing girl next to him. She wasn't looking at him, her attention on the people deciding her fate, but with the subtlest of movements he felt a hand grip his arm and give it a gentle squeeze. The motion wasn't lost on Vesemir, his eagle eyes darting to where her hand touched him. Lambert saw his mouth stretch to a dangerously thin line as he levelled his teacher's gaze at him.

'That maybe true but I can see that Geralt was correct. Your judgement is clouded. I assume you were contracted to kill the girl, that's how you found her?'

Lambert could do little but nod. Lying now would only get them into more trouble, and as much he didn't care what the others thought of him, Blue eyes did.

'There we are. So, after failing to do the deed you decided to help her instead? And bring her not only to your home, but unbound and travelling as an equal as well.'

He felt the atmosphere in the room shift as Vesemir spoke. Now even Eskel was eyeing them both suspiciously. Merigold's attention was locked on Blue eyes, and he saw her mouth moving infinitesimally, no sound coming from her. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and his medallion gave a small tremor simultaneously to the girl next to him flinching, pulling her hand from his arm as if she had been burnt.

'Whatever the fuck you're doing Merigold, you better stop it right now.' Lambert said, his tone deadly. He knew losing his temper now would go bad for them, but he couldn't stop the frustration and annoyance at being interrogated like this.

'Leave her Lambert.' Vesemir snapped, his old eyes blazing. 'I trained you myself and I can only feel disappointed at the lack of precautions you've taken securing this creature. She can say all she likes that she is safe but words mean little.'

'She can't kill people, if that's what you're worried about.' Lambert countered. The three witchers shared looks of confusion, Geralt and Eskel especially.

'You mean she can't be killed, yeah?' Eskel tried to correct tentatively.

'I meant what I said cock sucker.' He levelled his gaze on Vesemir, all pretence of respect gone now. 'On the road she was attacked by a bunch of whoreson mercenaries. They tried to rape her and another girl. I saw Blue eyes knock every one of those motherfuckers out like they were training dummies, she could have easily slit their throats or fried them with her lightning magic. She didn't. Despite them deserving it. When I asked why, she told me she can't kill, and if I'm being honest, in the near month I've known her now, she's never done any malicious harm to anything we've encountered.' He rounded on Geralt. 'Isn't that what you say. You only kill monsters that harm others. Well…'. With that he waved a hand at the girl stood next to him.

Since her brief speech at the start Blue eyes hadn't said a word in her defence. Letting these strangers decide her fate in front of her. Whether it be some deep-rooted rebellion at the authority of this ass backwards place, or a sense of honour that he had to uphold to the girl he had promised to get home, Lambert felt a surge of righteous anger at the hypocrites gathered before him.

'You harp on at me for being a loose cannon and not thinking things through, well I thought it through. She's sentient. She's here against her own will, and she's not taken a single life in my presence. If that makes me a shitty witcher well…I've always been the black sheep, no reason for me to start conforming now.'

Another tense silence settled on the group. The large fire behind Vesemir crackling loudly in the cavernous hall. The old witcher took a step towards them, his eyes on the girl. 'Seems you have a fierce champion in Lambert.' His mouth twisted when she didn't respond. Her clear blue eyes looking back at him serenely. 'Still, we can't truly know your thoughts unless…'. He turned to the sorceress sat next to Geralt.

'Triss, did you manage to see anything?' Every muscle in Lambert's body tensed and he took an instinctual step towards the red-haired witch. Geralt was on his feet in an instant, his stance defensive as he placed himself between his brother and the woman. She watched the pair with wary eyes.

'Relax Lambert.' He growled. Lambert sneered at the pair. He had always loathed Geralt's penchant for taking sorceress' as lovers. They were a slippery lot and couldn't be trusted an inch. Merigold's sly use of magic on Blue eyes was evidence enough of that.

She shook her head at Vesemir, her prim little mouth turning down in disdain. 'No, sorry. Seems there are some pretty impressive walls around this demon's mind.'

Lambert looked back at the girl, automatically assessing her for signs of distress. Blue eyes just looked back at him, that same serene expression she had given Vesemir on her face.

'Unfortunate. It would have simplified things.'

'There is, maybe, another way.' Merigold piped up as Vesemir looked ready to conclude.

'Yes?'

The sorceress glanced briefly at Geralt. He frowned back at her. 'I could try scrying.' Everyone looked at her, waiting expectantly for her to elaborate. With a reluctant sigh Merigold continued. 'I know a ritual that would help me peer into someone's mind by lowering any barriers that may be blocking normal means of mind reading. It's not my forte and I would need some time to prepare, but I think I could manage it.'

Vesemir nodded after a moment of thought. 'That may work Triss. Do you think it would reveal if this demon had any malintent?'

'It should. If it works. There will be little she will be able to hide from me.' Lambert took another step, this time to the side so he was blocking the sorceress' view of the girl behind him.

'And what if I refuse to let you do this?' Now it was Vesemir's turn to approach him.

'Then we will deal with the creature and punish you accordingly. You've broken enough rules already today, do not test my patience any further.' Lambert squared up to his old teacher.

'What's to stop Merigold from lying about what she sees?'

'I wouldn't do that.' She interjected, outraged.

'You're on thin ice Lambert.' Geralt said in a dangerously quiet voice. The tension was rising rapidly now, and Lambert could feel all reason slipping away from him.

'No offence…actually, fuck that, every offence Geralt, but I don't trust any of your beaus as far as I could throw them. It's not a fair trial unless we can all see the results.'

'Trial seems like a strong word brother.' Eskel cut in. His was the only voice that remained calm and cool. His eyes flicking to the girl at the centre of the argument every few seconds.

'Trial is exactly what it is. So, I demand a fair one.'

Vesemir shook his head, his expression weary. 'Of all the times for you to grow a conscious, it had to be now.' Lambert folded his arms and glared, unmoving at his fellow witchers. Vesemir let out a long, world weary sigh. 'Is it possible?' He asked Merigold.

The red-haired sorceress thought for a moment, an anxious look on her face. 'In…theory.' She began tentatively. 'I know of a spell that could do it, but I'd need help.' At this she looked pointedly at the still standing Geralt, and Lambert felt his stomach drop.

'No! Oh, no! One witch is bad enough but I refuse to let that black haired harpy-'. Geralt was around the table and nose to nose with Lambert in a second. Their height difference was evident from such close quarters, and he felt a surge of bitter jealously towards the other witcher.

'Careful.' Geralt said, his tone unwavering. His eyes blazed with a vehement fire, over his shoulder Lambert could just make out Merigold's hurt expression at the violent way he had reacted. Love was an ever-complicated thing.

'Enough!' Vesemir suddenly appeared between the two of them, shoving them out of each other's faces.

'I'll need Yen's help to project the images. I can't do both.' Merigold almost sounded sorry as she spoke. It was a shit situation, but if Blue eyes was going to prove her trustworthiness there seemed little choice. At least they would all be able to see what was being seen by Merigold.

'Fine.' He finally spat out. Backing up to stand next to the girl that had caused all this drama.

'Good. That's settled. How much time do you need to prepare?' Vesemir said, turning to the sorceress.

'About three days.'

'So be it. Geralt, you ask Yennefer to come here. Eskel and Lambert will help you gather whatever you need for the ritual.'

'Will I fuck.' Lambert protested, but a sharp glare from the old witcher made him clamp his mouth shut.

'In the meantime, the demon will be kept in the cells downstairs. The dimeritium bars should hold her.'

Lambert snapped. The stress of returning to this epicentre of resentment and shitty memories added to the particularly one-sided interrogation he had just witnessed, had finally worn out his limited patience. 'The fucking cells Vesemir! She's not going anywhere! Why won't you just listen you rigid old coot!'

Geralt's fist connected with the side of his face, too quick for him to evade. Lambert staggered back, clutching a hand to his already throbbing chin. The anger and adrenaline coursed through him as he leapt at his brother, his own hands clenched into tight fists. He could see Geralt shifting into a defensive position. Eskel and Vesemir both stood off to the side. One with a shocked expression, the other regarding the fight with narrowed eyes. Lambert's vision zeroed in on his opponent, the others fading into blackness. He had sparred with Geralt hundreds of times, he had won few and lost many. The White wolf's extra mutagens giving him the edge on brute strength. However, despite the odds Lambert was fucked if he was going to let him win this time. As far as he was concerned, this whole farce had been triggered by him and his eagerness to proclaim the girl's nature.

He pulled back his fist, planning to feint and draw Geralt's defence away from his face. As he moved to strike a blurred motion distracted him for an instant, the trajectory of his fist faltering as he tried to pinpoint where it had come from. Then, as if out of nowhere, a recognisable pair of sapphire blue eyes appeared in front of him. Directly in the path of his flying fist.

'Stop!' Her voice was the loudest it had been since she had arrived here. Ringing out like a reverberating bell in the giant hall. Both Lambert and Geralt froze, her sudden appearance startling both witchers. Lambert staggered forward a few steps, the momentum of his attack hard to bring to an immediate stop. She had moved with the same unnatural speed she'd used in the pass. She was speaking to both of them but looked only at him. 'I won't have you beating each other up on my behalf.' She said a little quieter, giving him a stern, stormy eyed glare.

Turning to Vesemir she spoke even softer. That strange sereneness coming over her again. 'I except your conditions. If it goes some way to gain your trust then it'll be worth it. Lambert seems to think you can help me and I'm eager for you to do so.' She gave him a tentative smile, inclined her head a fraction and waited, head bowed for him to respond.

The old witcher looked at her with judging eyes, the same ones that had assessed Lambert when he had stood before him on his first night here. In that moment he felt a pang of sympathy for the demon girl. Being thrust into a strange land with no one but a supposed enemy for help, brought to this draughty keep full of outdated principles and tortured ghosts, and put on trial for being simply who she was. He could relate.

'So be it.' Vesemir finally said, his tone grave. 'Eskel, would you do the honours?'

Eskel took a step forward, his hand outstretched towards Blue eyes before Lambert grabbed his wrist.

'She's my prisoner, I'll take her to the cells.'

'No. Eskel will.' Before Lambert could direct his wrath back at the old witcher, Vesemir cut him off. 'You are clearly too emotionally invested in this. I forbid you from seeing the demon until after I have decided her fate.' He waved a hand for Eskel to continue, and with an apologetic look which didn't quite reach his eyes, Eskel removed his hand with a jerk from Lambert's grasp.

'Now, I'm done with all this serious talk. Let's eat.'

Lambert stood stuck in place as the girl he had brought all the way from the backwaters of Velen was led away by his brother. Vesemir walked over to Merigold and sat down, and after a venomous warning glare, Geralt returned to his seat next to her. Blue eyes glanced back once, her gaze connecting with his as Eskel took her to the stairs leading down to Kaer Morhen's barely used cells. Her mouth twitched up at the corner, but there was a pleading look in her eyes. As if she were willing him not to cause trouble.

His jaw clenched and he stood watching the place where she had been, long after Eskel had disappeared with her below. It was only when he returned and laid a hand on Lambert's shoulder as he passed, that he finally broke his trance.

'She'll be fine. The girl's tough.' Lambert wanted to say something cutting, something to make Eskel flinch away or roll his eyes in exasperation but after seeing the way he had gently led her off, his grip on her more for show than force, he found his taste for spite dampened.

'I know.' He muttered instead and walked with him to the table where Vesemir was already listening with rapt attention to one of Geralt's stories from the Path. Lambert found it harder than usual to stay civil that night. He was silent as the others caught up and drank copious amounts of ale. He had his fair share of alcohol but it didn't give him the buzz he was used to by now. Occasionally Eskel would try and draw him in, forever trying to make peace, but he gave one word answers and eventually he gave up. The others didn't seem to care about his sullen mood, and he quite frankly didn't care about them.

As the day drew to a close and night settled on the keep, the group moved closer to the fire. It was still Autumn but there was a chill in the air and in the cavernous hall it hit harder than anywhere else at night. Finally, wearied from travelling everyone made their goodnights and began dispersing from the group. Lambert's eyes followed Merigold as she made her way to the guest room upstairs, his mouth twisting in a smug smile as Geralt chose to go to his bed in the hall instead of following an hour later. So, he was still sticking with the purple eyed one. That would create some awkward tension when she arrived to perform whatever freaky ritual they were planning to do.

When the others had left and he had run out of ale yet again, Lambert decided to turn in. Staggering to his cot set against one side of the hall, he collapsed into it fully clothed next to a snoring Geralt and drooling Eskel. Staring up at the dusty rafters he saw his breath mist in front of his face, the cold now tightening its grip on the place as the moon rose higher outside.

He tried to clear his mind, willing the alcohol to do its work and make him forget. The first night was always the worst in this place. He would often swear he could hear the screams of agony echoing though the hall. Screams of terror and fear, as the boys he had arrived with, his friends, were ripped apart from the inside so they could be remade into witchers. How many had died in that process? Too many. It was an annual tradition now for him to drink himself into a stupor so he could drown out those screams. Keep the nightmares at bay.

This night was different. Despite his less than ideal lucid state he couldn't hear screams. Instead his thoughts drifted down from the fur lined cot he was lying in, away from the memories carved into the very walls. Through the thick stone of the keep's floors, to the girl now locked in the freezing cells below. He had never been one to give a fuck about fate, but he hoped to the gods it was kind to her.