Kaer Morhen (Part 6)

It looked like a maw.

A huge, opened with intent to devour every person in front of it and threatening. Two people sat opposite to the entrance, under the rays of setting sun. They both had swords on their knees smeared with oil against ogroids and black veins appearing on their faces.

Albeit alive, their heartbeats were very slow and outer visage totaly unmoving. The patch of landscape, that still had bloody light of dawn covering it, retreated under the influence of descending nightfall faster, than the raise of their chests due to breathing.

The last ray of daylight disappeared suddenly and both witchers opened eyes simultaneously.

"Time to go." - Vesemir stood up and stretched, unsheathing his sword and stepping forward with grace and silence of a beast.

"It's being a while for you." - said Geralt, following behind the old witcher.

"No matter. Once a witcher always a witcher. I still have the strongest potential in signs among you all, youths." - said old Vesemir with all seriousness. - "And actually... after training in kid's meditation I feel like going on the Road again to stretch my rusty bones."

"Speartip is nearly immune to magic." - ruined all the fun Geralt.

"You tell me, youngster." - Vesemir rolled his eyes at White Wolf. - "Silence from now on."

Duo stepped inside the long cave with some traps created to make things difficult for soon to be witchers. They moved like blurs, almost flying over the obstacle course created inside the cave with lots of annoying traps, some of them life threatening. Still, for seasoned witcher with senses honed by decades if not centuries of the Path, it was hardly anything noteworthy.

But in all that cave there is one thing that even they would like to avoid. One of the deadliest creatures in the world.

Cyclops.

It was not about their three floors tall stature or huge physical strength. It wasn't even about their speed, that was too fast for a creature of that size. No, it was about their overall defenses against any harm. Belonging to ogroid family of creatures, they are nothing like their little counterparts and the main issue about cyclops is their ferociousness. A strong punch from it will easily outweigh the biggest pendulum Kaer Morhen has in store.

Technically it is advised to never fight such foe in closed environment, if one even want to confront cyclops at all.

The duo noted snoring sound way before seeing their target, that was sleeping by the end of a huge cavern.

They climbed up to the protrusion on the wall that barely managed to house both and lay low, observing the surroundings.

"Bad place." - only said Geralt. - "Just like I remember."

Vesemir didn't say anything, only frowned, then he sighed and looked over.

"Indeed. Long and narrow. Hard to avoid it's charge. Should have killed it sooner. Okay, signs out, maybe only fire for the eye. We need to limit it's mobility." - said old witcher after some contemplation.

"What if you use this? I remember that guy loved drinking." - Geralt took out a flask with black liquid.

"Poison is useless." - said Vesemir with reproach.

"I'm not a trainee anymore, old man. Naturally I know it is useless. This thing is one of the Alan's creations."

"Oh." - Vesemir became interested. - "What it's for?"

"To get drunk. With a drop." - said Geralt with a smirk. - "That thing, a drop for a litter of water can create a good bottle of your normal tonic on cranberries. Quite a good drink if you ask me."

"Why I don't have one?"

Geralt only shrugged.

"See the pool, pour it there and let it take effect. I think this bottle will outright knock him out."

Vesemir looked over and sighed. If it is so, that will be one of the most anticlimactic kills in his carrier.

"Young people nowadays. They don't want to fight, they want tricks and do nothing." - grumbled old man, seeing how Geralt made his way to the huge basin of water, from which Speartip usually drinks his fill.

He poured it inside and hurried back, as smell from the tonic will soon wake the cyclops up.

What transpired later will always cause frowns from Vesemir and facepalms from Geralt, because they literally didn't do shit to kill the monster.

"Hey, Geralt, is it really that good?" - asked Vesemir with no expression, only confusion written all over the face.

In response white haired witcher only rubbed his forehead, while looking at the Speartip, who was dead. The menace of the trial cave died just like that due to overdose of alcohol.

"How hard is that stuff exactly, to make a cyclops drink itself to death?" - asked Vesemir again.

"Do you know any other creature who drinks so much?" - Geralt was very clear that old witcher wanted to use it to hunt monsters. He always was a man who tried to invent new ways to kill dangerous foes through easy means. It was his way to ease livelihood for the witchers. More than half of the new revised tactics against monsters came from that several centuries old monster hunter.

"You." - said Vesemir with a trace of a smile.

White Wolf looked at his own mentor with clear shock on the face. Geralt and shock are normally things on polar opposite sides of spectrum, but not today.

"Vesemir... you just said a joke." - he stated as a fact.

"Let's go back." - Vesemir cleared his throat and stood up. - "But before that..."

"The witcher is a creature, a mutant of self-efficient nature and trained as such with usage of every monster parts available for his own benefit in mind and behavior, whether future one or right on site. As such, none of the done killings and procured precious ingredients should be wasted, no matter what source they came from." - quoted Geralt part of the Witcher Means and Description Compendium with dull tone.

"My school." - nodded Vesemir with clear satisfaction and looked at the dead Speartip. - "Clean kill, should be written down as an example. And we need that black booze. Lots of it."

Geralt cringed but didn't find any words to retort.

They came back to the keep by the morning and what shocked several people who were currently besides themselves in worry is that the duo looked almost... bored.

"So, Vesemir, you finally got it straightened huh?" - came a voice from the table, where everyone was already enjoying the meal. Yes, they were clearly happy to eat it, because today shift in the kitchen was Alan's.

"Something like that. Our share?" - even old man grew to be attached to the good taste he's been experiencing from handiwork of their new addition to the family.

"All here." - came the voice and a youth with pitch black shoulder length hair walked in, glancing at the duo with scrutinizing eyes on the subject of injuries. He put plates on the table, no, more accurately to say he apparated them there using Isu-Accio he never stopped training and after Triss lessons, exactly this spell became the first to graduate from a 'mere sign' to 'proper magic'.

Well, other his spells remain without progress for now, but it will soon be there.

"Not even a scratch. What's the trick?" - even usually silent Eskell was curious about the epic fight. After all they went to kill Speartip, it should have been earthshaking, heaven rending battle, which you might not even find in fables.

"Geralt, Geralt! We were so worried, Triss even stood all night on the wall and ran away from there when noticed you." - smirked forest-eyes disaster in pants with glee and gave the sorceress mischievous glance.

"You already know how to talk on your elder sister?" - Triss wasn't really shy or upset, just a bit unsettled that the real reason wasn't what they might expect from a foolish girl in love. No, she was standing there not exactly because she was worried sick, but because she knew that if they need a timely magical first aid she might help.

'I wasn't that worried about Geralt as I thought I will be. Am I finally getting over it?' - somehow Triss felt a tinge of liberation wash over her heart this moment, as if she was able to look at situation with clarity that was not present in her vision earlier.

It was a bit sad, but also exciting and refreshing. Like a new world appeared in front of her suddenly. The one full of possibilities and future!

"Triss." - Geralt wanted to say something, but seeing her cornflower blue eyes turned to him with slightly less fire inside and more tranquility, paired with appreciation he felt more at ease and only nodded.

"Let's not dwell on things and eat. Geralt, please, if you want to describe your battle now, be brief." - said sorceress in welcoming tone and a warm smile. It was a genuine one, hidden behind the mask of powerful stature of a magician.

It belongs only to her friends.

Geralt gave her a trace of a smile too, the one she never noticed before that made her happy inside. It was the one that says – 'I'm proud of you, my friend.'.

"So, what happened, tell me that piece of shit died in agony!" - ruined the moment the best party pooper of the continent when Dandelion is not present.

Lambert.

Vesemir stopped for a moment and cringed.

"If anything, I think he was quite happy at his final moments." - said old man and continued his meal.

"What? I don't understand. Explain it to me."

"Do it in couple of words, please." - Triss gave her five orens with threatening aura, lingering in the corner of her sweet smile. The last thing she needs is to listen one of those favorite topics of witchers during meal. The one with a lot of intestines involved which are in places, where they shouldn't be, if one is to make a reference to the anatomy of an intact living being.

Geralt thought for a while and finally opened his mouth.

"Booze is evil."