Chapter 57

"And that's the last of it." Leo said as he reentered the main hall with the rest of us after delivering the last of our purchased food supplies to the kitchen larder. Between the four of us it didn't take all too long to empty the three carts of goods and safely tuck the animals away in nearby stables in the courtyard.

Kaer Morhen might have been a little rough looking on the outside but inside it didn't look too bad. The walls were decorated with tapestries and relief paintings that I remembered from the games, including the Witcher George and the dragon that Geralt spoke so disparagingly about. It was the work of moments for Vesemir to get a fire going in the kitchen's fireplace, while Leo showed Ivar and I where the woodpile was and how Vesemir liked having the wood split and stacked. We also brought a few armloads each in for the kitchen, the common room, and the upstairs bedrooms. There were a lot of empty rooms, enough for everyone to have their own quarters. Rather dusty, as was to be expected, but it wasn't as if we had anything else to do in the immediate future.

Ivar immediately set to work unpacking his books, notes, and baggage in his room. Dogmeat would stay in my room, and Vesemir gave me a few old blankets for her to use as a bed. He made a point of requesting that I clean up after her when she did her business in the castle's courtyard.

"Save her crap in a bucket, and leave it in the shed behind the main keep," he told me.

"Compost that as well?" I asked.

Vesemir shook his head. "No, too acidic. We use it when tanning hides. That along with oak bark - the tannic acid is used in the process to soften monster and beast skins for later leatherworking."

"You guys certainly don't leave anything to waste." I complimented him. I mean, I know that Vesemir of all the Wolves was like that but it was still impressive. "Any other ground rules while here? I heard how Ivar isn't allowed in the basement, same with some parts of the library?"

Vesemir gave a grim chuckle. "The library is open to all of you. Nothing there that we need to worry about him reading. The sensitive stuff is kept either in my room or in the lab downstairs - those places he's not allowed to go, without supervision in the latter case and at all in the former. Apart from that… there's a garden in the lower courtyard that we always need help with, weeding and the like. We don't grow much apart from some root vegetables, but it's a welcome addition to the castle diet. Cooking and cleaning is on a rotation, so everyone pulls their weight and no one person has to do all the work. Clean your room, help take care of the animals and, and if either of you have skills with manual labor, construction, or bookkeeping, there's always something to be done in those regards." He gave me a close look. "I'm guessing the scholar has the learning to balance books. What about you? Can you read? Write? Figure?"

"I can do all three, though I can't promise I'm particularly good at them compared to Ivar. I'm not afraid of manual labor either, just would likely be safer to direct me in what I'm doing so I don't damage anything. Ideally I would like to help deal with that forktail considering we could make use of its spinal fluid, as well as whatever other local monsters you would feel good about cleaning out before the snow starts falling." I offered.

"Sounds good," he responded. "I'll want to get your measure with swordplay first, before going out on patrols. Drowners are a near constant nuisance down by the lake, and up in the mountains there's rock trolls and Old Speartip. If you want to access the Circle of the Elements up there you'll have to get past them first. I recommend using the one in the basement first. Erynias up in the old signal tower to the west, and specters in the old bastion west of the castle. They're tied to something, but nobody's been quite sure what, just that they attack anyone on sight." He signed a little sadly at the last part before he forced himself to chuckle.

"At the very least, it will give your pet scholar something to study while he's here. Just make sure he's accompanied by you or myself before heading off, and doesn't wander off alone. Speartip might use him as a toothpick."

"Sadly, I think he would still try." I shook my head. "What is Old Speartip? I assume he is kinda special since you named him and not killed him yet."

"Ah." Vesemir glanced at my head. "He's part of an old Witcher's trial that we used to put newly mutated recruits through. They had to sneak past him to reach the Circle of the Elements. He's… well, no two ways about it. He's a cyclops."

"Great…" I could feel the phantom pain at the side of my head at the word. "Assuming the Trial of Grasses with Leo goes well, I take it you will want him to get past him, therefore I can't go kill him to satisfy my hate for the species."

Vesemir rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Actually, most recruits did it when they were thirteen or fourteen. Leo's already completed the trial."

"Huh, really? I guess your training is no joke then. Cyclopes have shit for depth perception but they have good hearing and smell. Your boy has talent… that mean I can kill him then or…" I left the question hanging.

"I'd rather you didn't, at least for now. He's harmless as long as nobody pokes their head in his cave, and I wouldn't mind keeping him around for any future recruits." Vesemir replied.

I just sigh in disappointment. "You're the Grandmaster. I'll respect you there if nothing else. Still won't stop Ivar from asking us for the chance to at least study him from afar. Though from what you say even if I used Xill Speartip won't be in a mood for talking."

The older Witcher shrugged. "Don't know, nobody's ever tried. Might be worth the shot. Anyway, that's about it for duties and hazards. I wouldn't recommend swimming in the lake, but if either of you have a taste for fish or eels, both can be found in large numbers. Easy to catch with a hook, net, or fish trap. We keep a few boats by the lakeside shack that the drowners ignore for the most part."

My stomach growled. "Gotta say, some fried fish sounds fantastic. Might take you up on it later."

"Heh, glad to hear it. Now, come with me. I want to show you the equipment we'll be using to help with your training. Or retraining, as it were." With a roll of his shoulder, Vesemir urged me to follow him to the armory in another part of the castle. "I keep a few training blades and such normally outside, but with us gone and with how the weather is going to be, it's safer to keep them in here."

I followed him upstairs to the armory. After fiddling with the lock for a bit, Vesemir opened the door and showed me into a weapon lover's dream room. All of the walls were covered in a veritable arsenal of weapons, from daggers and swords to spears, axes, maces, and even flails. Witcher armor was on armor stands scattered around the room; I recognized examples from every school on display, up to and including Manticore oddly enough. A barrel in the corner held training weapons, including wooden staffs and swords and gambesons for basic armor and padding.

I was just looking around in slight awe as Vesemir was digging around through the training gear before my eye spotted something out of place.

"What's that there?" I asked, pointing to the heavy locked door on the other end of the armory. I mean, why keep more weapons behind a more secure looking door?

"Hmm, oh that. Well since besides the lab in the basement the armory is the most secure location in the castle. We keep some of our more dangerous items behind that door." Vesemir said.

"Dangerous how?" I asked a little worriedly.

"Magical items and such Witchers collected over the years we never learned the specifics of since we don't have a mage on hand to examine them. Everything in there is some flavor of enchanted or cursed as far as we can tell at least." Vesemir pulled at his mustache. "Might have our contact look it over actually when they get here, see if they want to buy any of it since we don't need it."

"Why not destroy them or sell them off normally?" I asked curiously.

"Because we don't know the harm doing either of those things could do without the right knowledge and Witchers are in the business of solving issues, not leaving them around to make new ones." Vesemir sounded a little insulted at the idea.

I mean, he wasn't wrong. Last thing they needed was to accidentally sell a cursed mug that gave people eternal hiccups or something.

"Mind if I take a look?" I asked, trying and failing to keep the note of excitement out of my voice. These could be pretty cool!

"Hmm, well… as long as you don't touch anything directly it should be safe for the most part. Since you're from the Griffin School you might recognize something we didn't. You lot always liked playing with magic more than the rest of us." Vesemir admitted.

Yes!!! I gave a mental fist pump.

"After we train however." Vesemir killed my good cheer and handed me a training sword.

Boo. I wanted to check out incredibly dangerous cursed objects first.

---

"Well… you have the basics of the basics down, but that's the nicest thing I got to say about your swordplay." Vesemir grumbled down at my panting, bruised, and semi-broken form. I didn't respond, too focused on catching my breath. The old man knew how to put me through my paces, that's for sure.

He made it clear I wasn't to use anything besides my sword when sparring with him. Well, no Signs anyway - fists, feets, grapples, and throws were more than legal in his book, as he had demonstrated repeatedly. It turned more into an adult beating up a child than a spar.

Vesemir's training blade hit the ground, and the old man pulled me to my feet. "You feeling alright there, lad?"

"Just… just let me… catch my breath… and my dignity." I begged.

"No." Wait, what-

Vesemir's knee to my gut put an end to my train of thought. Shoving me back, he knocked me to the ground, where I lay wheezing.

"You are a right and proper fool, you know that?" Vesemir asked me casually. He cut off any reply by kicking me in the gut again. God, that hurt! I tried to clutch my stomach, but the old man reached down and grabbed me by the collar of my gambeson.

"We've never met before," he continued in a mild, lecturing tone. One punctuated by a powerful headbutt to the bridge of my nose. "You don't know me, or at least shouldn't remember me, and I don't know you." Twisting my arm around, he rolled me over in a semi-somersault until I landed on my back flat on the ground. "And yet, you offered me all of your money. Me, a complete stranger. I'd have thought that cyclops knocked your brain out, not just cracking your skull. Yes, I'm a Witcher, but that doesn't automatically equate to trustworthy."

I gaped like a fish, a combination of the pain, shock at him beating me, and the lecture preventing me from saying anything.

His boot landed on my chest, and he bent over to stare me in the eyes. His were narrowed in an angry glare, made scarier by his cat eyes. "No sense of economy, no sense of caution. And to make it worse, you just followed me home. Home, to Kaer Morhen. Far, far away from anyone who could, or would, help you." He leaned closer, his voice a hiss. "I could kill you now as easy as breathing, and there is nothing you could do to stop me." His cat-like eyes flicked towards the castle. "Or help your friend."

He knelt down, his knee pressing on my throat and restricting my breathing even more than it was from the bloody nose and traumatized solar plexus. He whispered, "Are you scared, lad? You should be. You should be very scared right now."

I mean… he was right on all counts given common sense. I just had the benefit of metaknowledge which made my decisions feel more secure, but I did want to take what he was telling me to heart since at least till the end of winter this tough old man was to be my teacher.

Which meant if this was a test… I Signed Gal and suddenly I was a dozen feet away and picked up my actual steel sword, still trying hard to get my breath back but at least showing that I wasn't totally worthless.

Vesemir had whipped around as soon as I had moved, and was already charging towards me. His left hand was Signing Quen, while the other made the gesture for Aard. Two-handed casting? I'd be more impressed if I didn't suddenly have to deal with what felt like the telekinetic equivalent of a freight train bearing down on me.

Thankfully, crossing my arms into the Heliotrope allowed me to turn the hit into merely a speeding car. Didn't save me from the upcoming beating and finding myself literally up against a wall. Vesemir had positioned me well for this; we were surrounded on three sides by the castle and its walls, with him between me and the only exit.

"Well… death isn't the worst thing I guess… unless you know how to turn me into a wraith or something." I joked morbidly, and I didn't put it past the old guy to know either.

Unarmed though he was, his fist was nevertheless enough to break my defense. Grabbing my wrist, he turned around so that his back was almost pressed up to my front, then brought my arm down hard over his shoulder. I screamed as the elbow dislocated, and my sword dropped from nerveless hands.

Twisting back around, he delivered a series of hard, sharp jabs to my gut and chest - not enough to break, but enough to be very, very painful. The last one was directly to my throat, again just to hurt and not to break, and he finally let me go as I gagged for air. "You don't talk now. You listen, and maybe learn something in the process."

The next five minutes were some of the most painful in my life, let alone in the time since I'd been in this world. Vesemir, it turned out, was a master at breaking people. In my case, that was both elbows, my right hand, left knee, the instep of my right foot, my nose, and more bruises and lacerations than I could count. My feeble attempts to fight back were met with brutal blows and agonizing joint locks, and I quickly learned that the pain increased the more I fought back. So eventually, I stopped fighting and just took it. Throughout the beating, he listed out every mistake I'd made since meeting him - mistakes that would have gotten me killed or worse had he possessed the slightest bit of ill intent towards me. Offering him all of my money, letting him use Axii on me and Ivar both, telling him about the Trials and how I could help… It was a long list.

He never touched my ears, though. And for good reason. He wanted me to listen to what he had to say as he worked his way through my body's most vulnerable points.

He made it clear that this wasn't a punishment, or him trying to be cruel. Instead, it was a lesson. A lesson in caution, in exercising good judgment, and in being a little more cynical where people's good nature was concerned. He listed example after example after example of Witchers who had died from doing exactly what I had done during my journey.

At the end of it, I couldn't even stand the pain was so bad. Tears streamed from my eyes, of pain, shock, and regret. Because he wasn't wrong. I knew I had screwed up, badly, and only my metaknowledge had kept me from doing anything I entirely regretted.

Not that I could tell Vesemir that. All I could do was take the beating and try to take the lesson to heart.

At the end, I was a broken mess on the training ground, unable to even move. Vesemir, for his part, was breathing a little hard, but didn't seem much worse for wear.

"...And offering me the secret to the Trial of the Grasses was the worst part. Thousands have died, wars have been fought over those secrets. You don't pass that out like a virgin's favor in a whorehouse! You treat them with respect, and the caution that such secrets deserve. Understand me?" Vesemir snarled.

I nodded fitfully, my breathing coming in spurts as I tried not to choke on the blood pouring from my nose.

"This isn't the end, but hopefully this lesson won't need repeated. Do something this idiotic again, though, and I'll break every bone in your body before I'm done." Vesemir sighed, then walked over to his satchel and pulled out some potions.

"This next part is going to hurt even more," he said. "I've broken you; time to put you back together. Let's start with those elbows of yours."

---

Vesemir wasn't lying; it was agonizing, first as he set broken bones and re-socketed dislocated joints, and then as he poured two White Rafford's Decoctions and a Swallow down my throat. Joints popped and bones crackled as they mended, and my eyes stung as Vesemir reset my nose and washed the blood from my face.

I wasn't in this much pain when I crashed landed from the sky on top of a manticore! Then again the manticore didn't systematically break or dislocate most of my bones.

However, as I laid there in pain as Vesemir used a combination of first aid and potions to get me back to decent shape I could only soak in the whole lesson for what it was. A warning of what being overly naive and trusting in this world would net me, that I was lucky thus far and things could have been much worse had I made the wrong decisions or met the wrong people.

I would never be perfect… but I hope that under Vesemirs' and the other Wolves' care I could finally become as much a Witcher in mind as I was in body.

I just had to get through a winter's worth of training from hell… shame I didn't have access to some anime playlists to get me in a better mindset.