A/N: Hello everyone, my what lovely comments I've had this last week. I can't tell you how happy I am that you love Ellie and her backstory. It's super weird finally sharing it with the world but exciting at the same time. I hope you're all hungry for more but as I said last week it's back to one chapter now I'm afraid. Want to stay ahead and keep you all keen. Anyway, have at it and as usual read, review and enjoy! :)

Chapter 18

All her muscles ached. They ached like she'd gone several rounds with a rabid Mammon. She lay on the bed, unsleeping, letting her muscles and mind recover from the ordeal of the ritual. She could still taste the bitter demon blood in her mouth, even though it had just been a memory and not actually happening. It had felt so real. Like she was reliving it all over again. On top of her stiff and sore limbs there was a residual ringing in her ears from the magic they had used on her. It pulsed in the back of her mind like an alarm.

She let out a low groan as she turned herself on the bed so she was lying face down, the soft furs smothering her face, shutting out the grey dusk light. She was grateful her ordeal had bought her a better room in the keep at least, but even without sleep her thoughts were plagued with nightmares. It had been an eternity since she had last let herself think about the details of her creation, and now the flood gates had been opened.

Pressing her hands to either side of her head she tried to stop the ringing and block out the flashes of the dying faces of her brother, Solomon and everyone else she had loved. She wasn't sure when exactly she had to think of it as a curse, but the hollowness of knowing she could never get close to someone without them being marked for death was a constant reminder of it. As she sifted through the catalogue of people she had lost because of it, Lambert's concerned eyes swam into focus.

His has been the first face she had seen after waking up from that nightmare. The weight of his body grounding her to reality. His glorious amber eyes burning into her as her own opened. It was night and day from the first time she had woken up to his arrogant, indifference after he had killed her. She could see the tell-tale signs of attachment every time he let his apathetic mask slip, revealing his true feelings beneath.

Too dangerous, getting too close, she thought. A pang of lonely longing lanced through her, making her wince into the furs. She tried to push him out of her thoughts. Better she not think about him, than for him to join the list of deaths she was extensively racking up.

She continued to lie there, unmoving, as the pain leached from her muscles and the ringing died down. She also made efforts to rebuild the wall that kept her numerous ghosts at bay. Shoring up the defences that those two women had so artfully torn down. It was because of this that she didn't hear the approaching footsteps until they were right outside the door. Moving with her renewed speed, she was still able to sit herself up against the wall the bed was pushed against, her eyes locked on the rough oak door as it opened slowly.

A strong blast of lilac and berried hit her nose, accompanied by a dark-haired head. 'You are awake I presume. Lambert said you didn't sleep.' The sorceress called Yennefer said as she entered. She walked in confidently, as if Ellie had summoned her instead of arriving unannounced. Another, more cautious, figure entered after her. This time the vibrant red headed sorceress she had heard referred to as Triss, or Merigold by Lambert. The second women closed the door again behind her.

'I don't.' Ellie said, her voice wary as she surveyed her unexpected visitors. Yennefer was holding a folded bundle of what looked like leather, which she threw unceremoniously at the foot of the bed.

'Found these for you. Lambert kept clucking about you freezing solid before we'd have a chance to scry you, so figured you could use the extra coverage now you're staying.' Ellie glanced at the item she had thrown. A pair of soft brown leather trousers were discarded there. 'Thanks.' She offered up lamely, unsure what to make of the gesture.

'Don't mention it. They belonged to a girl who used to live here. Don't think she'd mind you borrowing them, you seem to be a similar size.' Yennefer elegantly sat down next to the trousers at the foot of the bed. Ellie drew her legs up to her chest instinctually. Eyeing the violet eyed woman like she was a particularly vicious cobra.

'Are those Ciri's?' Triss asked, her green eyes narrowed at the other woman.

'Yes. But she isn't using them right now is she.' Yennefer didn't look away from Ellie as she answered her…friend? Honestly, it was hard for her to read the relationship between the two of them. There was a familiarity there similar to sisters, but an awkward tension that she couldn't quite put her finger on. She suspected heavily it had something to do with Geralt. Triss didn't argue, instead moving further into the room, staying near the rough stone walls, her gaze also locked on Ellie.

'So, my dear. I hope you don't bear any ill will towards me and Triss here? We were only ensuring our witcher friends' safety after all.' Yennefer gave her a dazzling smile, her odd coloured eyes calculating.

'I don't…no.' She said, casting her gaze between the two sorceresses. Triss let out a small sigh.

'I didn't mean to cause you so much pain. I apologise, but…forgive me…demons are notoriously duplicitous. We needed assurances that you weren't plotting to harm any of us.'

Ellie tilted her head. 'What made you change your mind?'

'Unlike everyone else, I can feel your emotions and intent during the scrying ritual. It's one of the reasons it's so effective, nothing can be hidden once seen. When you thought of Lambert, I felt only concern and a deep affection for him.' Ellie felt her face flush. Yennefer raised an eyebrow at the reaction. 'I also saw your claim of being a human true, as did the others.' She paused at this, giving Ellie a pitying look. 'The pain you felt, it was unlike anything I've ever experienced.'

'I imagine having one's soul ripped from their body would be extremely painful.' Yennefer said.

'Yeah, it sucked pretty fucking hard.' Ellie responded. The two sorceresses looked surprised for a moment, then Yennefer let out a laugh and even Triss smiled despite herself.

'I can definitely see why he likes you.' Yennefer said, and Ellie's cheeks heated up another few degrees. Too dangerous, remember. Her mind chastised her.

Triss took a step towards the bed, her guarded expression softening slightly. 'You said you didn't come here by choice, that something brought you here?'

Ellie nodded, 'Yes, I fell through a door I didn't create and ever since then I've not been able to make one to return. At first, I thought it was due to me being weakened, then as time went on and I recovered nothing changed. It's like something is blocking me.'

'Intriguing.' Yennefer said, running a manicured forefinger along her jaw in thought. 'We can certainly look into this. Of course, you'll have to talk us through how you make a door or gateway for us to have a chance of finding anything.' Ellie could hear the double meaning behind her words; she was fishing for information for her own gains. She smiled at the dark-haired sorceress, a friendly, trusting smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

'I can do that, sure.' Yennefer studied her for a second. She had no doubt the women could tell she was being equally guarded as them, however she wasn't concerned. She had dealt with enough Jinn and slippery Mammon traders in her time to handle a witch.

'Excellent.' Yennefer finally said, standing up in one graceful movement. The intricate lace on her flowing skirts dancing around her ankles as she moved. 'We'll leave you to rest my dear. If you need us you'll find me in the tower and Triss in her laboratory usually. I look forward to working together, the experience should be…educational.'

With that she swept out of Ellie's room in a flurry of black and white fabric. Triss hung back for a moment, her green eyes flitting over the girl on the bed. Whereas Yennefer exuded a confidence and slyness, Triss seemed like an honest soul. Ellie could practically see the blazing white light emanating from her.

'You know…I really am sorry. These people mean a lot to me…even Lambert. Please don't make me regret my decision.' Ellie looked at her for a moment. There was no double meaning behind these words. There was a genuine worry for her friends.

'Of course. You have my word.' This time when she smiled her eyes crinkled in warmth and reassurance. The sorceress nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Then with hurried footsteps she left Ellie alone once more.

It was nearing midnight by the time Ellie finally decided to leave her room. She had listened to the sounds of the keep from her new location as the night crept in. It had been morning when she had been brought up from the cells. The ritual had taken all of the day, but it had only felt like hours in her memories.

She'd heard the sounds of people talking downstairs in the main hall. Their voices echoing off the empty walls, the sound of cups and plates as they ate. She could smell the enticing scent of cooked meat and bread, and not for the first time she missed the feeling of being hungry, and the anticipation of a good meal. She could still eat, she just had no need to, so the pleasure of filling her stomach had been taken away from the process.

Outside the wind had died down, no longer howling round the exposed walls of the keep. With its absence, she could now hear the cries of animals and monsters out in the sea of pines. A lot of them she recognised; the howling of a wolf pack, the screeching of an owl, but others were unfamiliar and these she listened to, fascinated. The high-pitched screeching roars somewhere in the valley made her think of the griffin, but there was a hissing quality to it, almost like a reptile. Occasionally she'd hear what sounded like moaning, the haunted cries one would usually associate with ghosts, but it could have just as easily been the wind.

Once all the sounds of life had died down within the keep, she decided to venture out and take in her new surroundings. Pulling on the pair of leather trousers Yennefer had given her, Ellie left her tattered shorts on the bed and made for the door. The leather was soft and worn, and she was reminded that these had belonged to someone who used to live here. Ciri, wasn't that what Triss had said? The feeling of the clothes covering her legs felt odd and unnatural. She wasn't sure the last time she had worn trousers, and it took her a moment to become accustomed to the restricted movement. They did however, go some way to keeping the unnatural cold at bay.

Opening her room door, she listened for sounds of anyone nearby. Even though she had been moved from the cells and allowed to stay unguarded, she still felt bumping into someone as she snooped around wouldn't go in her favour. Silence within greeted her. Very faintly in the distance she could just make out the familiar snores she had come recognise over her weeks of travel. Her feet were bare as she tiptoed out, the cold stone a tad uncomfortable, but the lack of shoes improved her stealth.

Padding down the dark corridor where her room was located, she noted the other doors lining it. All with similar rooms behind she guessed. It looked as if, at some point in its past, Kaer Morhen had been made to house a lot more people indeed. Now, she was the only guest on this floor built for sleeping. Ironic that she couldn't fulfil its purpose.

At the end of the corridor a flight of stair descended into darkness, and one rose up to another floor of the impossibly large keep. Knowing that the majority of the current living spaces were downstairs Ellie took the downward flight, running a hand against the ice-cold stone as she did. She had visited castles before as a child, but this was monumental in comparison. Not to mention it was still being used, whereas the places she had visited before had all been ghostly shells of a past life.

She kept walking down, passing two more floors of what looked like dorm rooms. When Eskel had brought her up here after the ritual, she had been dazed and struggling to stay upright, so a lot of what she passed now in the dark was unfamiliar. She tried using her nose instead of her eyes to direct her towards the central point of the keep, the main hall. Latching onto the scent of herbs and spice she wound her way through the branching corridors and side rooms until she arrived in the soaring expanse of the hall.

Here the sound of snoring was loudest. Turning her head to where the noise was strongest, she saw three small beds set against the far wall, and three bodies lying on them covered in furs. She stepped a little closer to the three sleeping witchers, making sure to keep a safe distance. Eskel was sprawled out, his arms and legs hanging off the small bed. Next to him Geralt was just barely visible, his white hair sticking out above his furs.

The last one Ellie felt her eyes being drawn to, she had seen Lambert sleeping before but a bed roll on a hard forest floor was very different to a bed. His furs were half off his upper body, and with a start she realised he was topless underneath them. He was lying on his back, one arm flung wide off the bed, the other curled above his slightly ruffled black hair. He was snoring softly, his face partially relaxed in sleep. She noticed he looked a lot younger when he wasn't scowling or sneering at everything and everyone. There was a carefree innocence in his expression and it made her stomach squeeze uncomfortably. His features weren't completely serene however, a small crease between his dark eyebrows made it look like he was concentrating on something. Even as she noticed this he let out a groan in his sleep, his expression becoming more pained. He was having a nightmare. She thought about waking him, but the idea of being caught staring at him while he was asleep made her abandon the idea.

Looking around the largely empty, cold hall she wondered why they all chose to sleep here, instead of one of the many dorm rooms upstairs. Surely it would be warmer and with more privacy? She was pondering the thought when her eyes landed on a crumpled piece of metal pushed to one edge of the room. Frowning she walked closer to inspect it. As it became clearer in the dim light, Ellie instinctual froze and took a step back. The metal torture table she had been strapped to a few hours earlier, sat discarded and broken. Its sides were twisted up, the metal bent beyond recognition.

She walked up to it, examining the damage she had inflicted during her ordeal. She could see the indentations from her fingers moulded into the sides of the table. The places where the restraints had been were now just jagged lines of metal, sheared off when she had pulled free. A frown appeared as she examined it further. Beside the damage her straining against it had done there were heavy dents, like someone had struck the table repeatedly with a blunt object. Scanning the thing again Ellie now saw that there was far more damage than she had originally inflicted to it. The table now resembled a modern art sculpture rather than a functional piece of furniture. She ran a hand over one dent, the deep bowl of it on the main surface of the table. Something, or someone, had destroyed this after she had walked away.

Suspecting she knew the culprit, she glanced over her shoulder at the still sleeping Lambert. Another memory surfaced as she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, of a man letting his rage consume him as he smashed furniture in an abandoned farm house.

'What did you do, idiot?' She whispered. A sadness filling her as she imagined him taking his anger and frustration out on this rusting relic. Where did all that rage and bitterness come from, she wondered. Maybe in time he would tell her, but that would mean them getting closer and she had already decided against that.

Turning away from the macabre corpse of the table, Ellie decided to explore some more the keep. Yennefer had mentioned a tower and a laboratory, so there were likely more rooms to discover that had similarly interesting purposes. A school of witchers might even have a library somewhere, she thought excitedly as she picked one of the many doors leading off from the hall.

She ended up wondering around in complete confusion for most of the night. The main hall had been easy to find due to her familiarity with the witcher's scents, and because she had been there before. Once she left it however, Kaer Morhen became an impenetrable rabbit warren of nooks and crannies, hallways leading off other hallways and doors leading to nowhere in particular. Ellie was sure she had visited the same storeroom five times as she tried to navigate to some kind of place of significance.

The closest she had come was when she had taken a flight of stairs down beneath the keep once more. The temperature dropping to the same artic cold the cells had been. She had come upon a room with no windows but one immense fireplace built into the far wall. It was larger even than the one in the main hall, and had several iron pots suspended over where the fire would normally reside. As it was, there were only a small pile of burning embers beneath one pot, the smell of meat and spices strong in here. Ellie proudly deduced that this must be the keep's kitchen.

Moving further in, she had looked at the innumerable rusting pots and pans arranged on the dusty shelves. Only a few looked like they were being used, and even these were covered in dirt. This whole keep felt more like a museum, a time capsule to a bygone age of witchers; and the more she saw the more she hungered to know its secrets.

Ellie found her way to another storeroom in the kitchen, this one however was filled from floor to ceiling with food. Taking in a deep breath, she let the medley of scents waft over her. There were the smells of dried meats and sourdough bread that she had smelt a lot on the road here. There were also a number of vegetables and preserves that she could identify. Then her nose caught the whiff of something sweet and she was immediately on the case. It took only a few seconds to root out the heavy jar of honey, the oozy, golden liquid within almost seeming to glow through the thick glass. A smile spread across Ellie's face and she clutched the jar protectively to her chest. She had eaten nothing since being in Lambert's company, they wouldn't mind surely if she had something now?

Taking her prize, she left the pantry and hopped up onto one of the large preparation tables set in the middle of the kitchen. Settling herself, she slowly undid the lid of the jar and revelled in the sickly-sweet perfume released from it. She didn't need to eat and most of the time she avoided the inconvenience of it, but sweet things were her weakness and she'd had a rough few weeks. Leisurely, she dipped her finger into the viscous liquid and gathered some of it on the end. The honey collided with her tongue and the instant hit of sugar rushed into her blood, sending it singing through her veins. Food in the demon world was limited and not very plateable to a human, so whenever she got a chance to eat something nice it was usually sweet.

She spent the next hour periodically dipping her finger in the honey jar and sucking the residue off. She made sure not to eat too much, not wanting to deplete the stash for people who genuinely needed the nutrients, but by the time she was done the jar was definitely a little emptier. Leaving the kitchen, she had endeavoured to find her way outside, although the whole process took another hour of getting lost and finding that Purgatory forsaken storeroom an additional three times.

Finally, after finding her way back to the main hall she managed to retrace her steps from when she had first arrived at the keep and exit into the inner court yard. The light was just beginning to touch the horizon, the cloud blanketed in pale grey clouds giving the dawn light an eerie quality to it. There was the kind of dull, muffled effect to the atmosphere which signalled an approaching snow storm, and as she stood on the steps of the keep the first snowflakes began to drift down. They danced around her like faeries in the wind, their forms too tiny to make out.

The trousers certainly helped, Ellie felt practically snug in the supple leather as she walked down through the derelict courtyard to the next level of the keep. Although her bare feet began to twinge, she preferred to at least feel some freedom as continued her exploration. The area here was in similar disrepair but the most notable damage was to the east wall, a large chunk of it had collapsed, the debris creating a steep pile of rubble and bits of masonry. A serviceable wooden scaffold had been built around it, and Ellie could see the beginnings of some kind of repairs to part of it. She wasn't a builder or architect of any kind, but even she could see the hole would take more than the men here to complete before more of it fell away. It appeared like the witchers were trying to shore up what they could of their home, while the world did a far better job of tearing it down.

Passing through the second courtyard, Ellie came upon the lower level of the keep and the place she had entered on horseback with Lambert. To one side of the gate she could see the wooden lean to that acted as a stable, the rear ends of Roach, Scorpion and Horse sticking out as they dozed. In the centre of the yard were a row of straw dummies, set up for training she imagined. Slowly she walked down until she was in front of them. The dawn light was stronger now, but the snow clouds still blocked most of it. It gave the dummies a strange yellowish tint to them, making their featureless straw heads unnerving.

To one side of the training area there were a few weapons left in an untidy muddle. Surprised that the witchers would leave good swords out to rust Ellie went over to them, with the aim of hiding them from the snowfall. Once there she could see they were actually made of wood. Better for training novices with, so as to not cut off a limb…or a head. She picked up a staff and balanced it on her hand, weighing the weapon. It had a little weight to it, but not enough to seriously injure someone if they got hit by it. She wasn't sure if it was the familiarity of the weapon or the fact the memory had been dragged to the surface recently, but she found herself thinking of her training with Solomon.

Put your weight onto your back foot and lean away. Improving your balance is the key to getting quicker. Even the swiftest flying Ifrit needs to be able to land effectively.

His words came back to her, and automatically she began to work through her forms in the cold light of the dawn. The routine of passing through the different fighting positions; first low to the ground, then rising up to one leg, the staff an extension of her arm as she balanced. Then twisting in one fluid movement to change direction and legs, the staff now held out behind her.

As she made her way around the yard, flowing and bending like the wind, she felt the tension from the scrying ritual begin to finally leave her muscles. With the taste of honey in her mouth and the comfort of a weapon in her hand, she felt nearly whole for the first time in a long time. Even more so than before she had come to this world. The pressure of being in charge, of being hated and looked up to in equal measure, all this melted away as she moved from one form to another. There was a simplicity to it that she'd come to miss.

She found herself back in front of the dummies and having warmed up, the weight and feel of the staff now a little more familiar, she decided to test her strength and took a swing at the nearest one. Spinning the staff over her hand, she deftly caught it and sent it whistling through the air to connect with the straw head. With a deeply satisfying thwack the head of the dummy exploded, sending a cloud of yellow straw raining down on Ellie. She let out a low chuckle as she straightened out of her fighting stance, plucking a strand out of her hair. She was just focusing her attention on the next one in line and wondering if she could uproot it completely, when a voice came from behind her.

'A bit early to be picking fights, wouldn't you say?'

Whirling round, Ellie reflexively held up the staff in front of her, then lowered it slowly when she saw the smiling face of Vesemir.

'Sorry.' She said, her voice cracking from disuse. She gave him an awkward grin and shrugged. 'Don't sleep.'

'Ah, yes. That must be hard. Sleep, I find, is the sanctuary everyone has a right to.' He walked up next to her, his hands clasped behind his back. He didn't look at her, instead examining her handiwork. 'The monsters can't hurt us there.'

'Sometimes they can.' Ellie said before she could stop herself. Vesemir gave her a sideways look, his wrinkle-lined amber eyes boring into her. The old witcher let out a long sigh, the intense look on his face softening.

'I'm sorry I put you through that, but the purpose of us witchers is to kill dangerous monsters, and demons are considered the most dangerous in my experience.' Ellie regarded Vesemir. There was no trace of hatred or animosity towards her, only a forthrightness that spoke of a person who had seen much and survived even more.

'I understand. There are a lot of stories about us, and none of them good it appears.' She gave the old witcher a timid half smile. There was something about the quiet way he observed her that reminded her of Solomon. The thought made her ache.

'Indeed.' He said, in his low grumbling voice. He turned back to look at the dummy. 'You did quite the number on this one. I noticed you have a unique style of fighting. Can't say I've seen it before.'

'My mentor taught me. He said it would complement my…diminished height and scrawny arms.' Vesemir snorted, his eyes glittering with amusement.

'Nothing wrong with those arms as far as I can see.' Ellie couldn't help grinning at him.

'Sorry I disturbed you.' She said, genuine regret in her voice.

Vesemir shook his head. 'When you get to my age child, sleep is an elusive beast. Not to mention, a waste of time.' He surveyed the training yard, crossing his arms. 'I've lost count of the number of young witchers I've taught the ways of the sword here. So many boys, lost and gone. Sometimes I like to come here to remind myself of them.'

Ellie didn't know what to say. Watching the old witcher she could see what the years of losing those he'd taught had done to him. There was a weight to the set of his shoulders, and in that moment he looked far, far older than his appearance suggested. She wondered if witchers lived longer than normal humans, like demons did. Vesemir turned his attention from the yard to the rest of the keep, his eyes sweeping over the crumbling walls and dilapidated buildings.

'I've done my best to preserve this place, but the task is far more than my old hands can manage now. A part of me worries that without Kaer Morhen, the witchers who once lived here will be forgotten forever. Consigned to oblivion.'

Ellie came to stand beside him, casting her own eye over her surroundings. 'They won't be.' She said, feeling Vesemir's eyes shift to her. 'Consigned to oblivion I mean. Only demons disappear entirely when they die.' She tapped a finger against her chest. 'No souls.'

He gave her a long hard look. The silence deafening between them. She was suddenly very nervous, wondering if she had over stepped her mark and ruined her brief moment of trust. Then the old witcher let out a harrumph and trudged over to the training weapons. He bent down and picked up a longsword, very similar in design to the swords she'd seen the others carrying. Twirling it deftly in his hand - much like Lambert - he walked back towards her, a devious smile on his face.

'It's been a long time since I had a new sparring partner. What say you try your hand against me instead of these boring dummies?' There was an excited glint in his eye and Ellie found herself taking a reflexive step back.

'Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you?' Vesemir's smile turned wolfish.

'Stop your yapping girl and concentrate.' Then before Ellie could protest anymore, he leapt forward, swinging the sword straight for her head.