Chapter 59

I had to admit that, despite being full of ghosts, the Bastion seemed to be in better shape than Kaerr Morhen as a whole. The biggest damage I could see from the outside was a few holes in the corner towers and being covered in overgrown vines. Granted, it was the insides that were the biggest issue.

"You sure about this?" I asked Vesemir next to me as he held the lamp in his hands. We made sure to leave for Bastion in the morning since most wraiths weren't very active as the sun was rising, but I also knew that things would get dangerous and personal when we started listening to the ghosts.

All I saw was a determined look in his eyes as he stared my way.

"Those who died here have been lingering for far too long already. It's only right we do so now that we have the lamp to help out. You got your specter oil applied?"

"Yes sir." I said as I lifted the silver blade in my hand. On the ground near the entrance, we had laid down some equipment that Vesermir thought we might need to end the haunting - some firewood, various herbs, a pickax, and a pair of shovels.

"Your Yrdens will be essential for dealing with any wraiths. Keep your guard up, specters tend to pop up out of nowhere. They like ambushing intruders." Vesemir said as he marched through the front gate of the old building.

I followed only a few feet behind him and saw what I expected, a pretty trashed looking courtyard that led to a second level and doors to the side that likely led into old sleeping areas for the boys that lived and trained here. We were near an old stable next to the main entrance when our medallions started shaking.

"Something's here but I don't see anything…" Vesemir mused.

"Might be ghosts. Try the lantern." I pushed and he nodded as he directed the lantern's magical glow forward.

What was once nothing were now two shadowy figures facing each other, one short and young looking, the other tall and carrying two swords on his back. Then we started hearing voices, echoey ones that spoke seemingly from everywhere and nowhere as the shadows acted out a moment in their life.

"A witcher usually fights with a sword, silver or steel. But he must know how to use all weapons. Battleaxes! Picks! Slingshots! " An older, grizzled voice called out as the shadowy boy swung around what was likely a smaller training blade. "Archery training today. Miss the target, you owe me fifty push-ups. Hit the target, you only owe me twenty. Now move!" he said before both winked out of existence.

I just stood there for a moment and turned to an unmoving Vesemir. "You recognize the voice?"

Vesemir hissed as if in pain. "Yes. Yes I do. The man was Ermey. Tough as nails, stubborn old bastard, swore like a sailor - and one of the finest trainers I've ever met. The lad was Carl, I recognize his poor form. Redanian orphan. Eskel picked him up one day when the child tried picking his pocket, and brought him to us for safe-keeping." Vesemir said with a grimace at the end.

I didn't know what to say. These were just sad spirits to me, but these were people Vesemir knew and interacted with once upon a time. Friends, students, mentors. All cut down by the ignorant and hateful while he wasn't there to defend his home.

I focused on the one thing that wouldn't be insulting to talk about in this situation, the job.

"We best keep looking around. Find the thing the wraiths of this place are bound to and get rid of it." I said simply.

"Yes. We should." was all Vesemir said in reply as we looked around some more, investigating anything that might be important.

The ground floor was a bust with nothing but broken items, scattered rusted weapons, old belongings and similar things. With nothing there we moved on to the upper floor.

We felt our medallions shake once more as we climbed the steps near the edge of the dropoff into the lower courtyard. Vesemir wordlessly pointed the lantern towards it and we saw another shadowy version of Carl along it while working hard to maintain his balance.

"What's that supposed to be?! Swaying side to side like a reed in the wind? Guard up! Faster, Faster!" Ermey's voice called out as the boy struggled to not fall over before his shade vanished.

Once more than was a pause before Vesemir spoke up. "Running the Gauntlet no doubt. It was important for the trainees to know how to maintain their balance even during the most harrowing of situations. Balance is vital in combat after all." he said before he turned away. "Let's move on."

The second level was pretty much just as trashed as the lower one, with the added addition of broken stone work covering the place. I got Vesemir's attention when I detected some more ghosts in a side alcove and he unveiled the lantern once more.

We could see the shadowy forms of Ermey once more standing over a child - likely still Carl - who was sitting on the ground. Ermey's arms were crossed and while his face wasn't clear his annoyed tone of voice was.

"You walked away from practice without my permission. You know that… Do not stop! Bleeding is no excuse! Now take off that bandage and get back to your training. You'll see to your wound when I say you are done!" he demanded, and surprisingly enough Carl did slowly pull himself up to his feet and nodded his head before winking out.

"Tough… though I suppose learning how to fight while injured is important when you are facing off against monsters. Not like they're going to give you time to walk away to fix yourself up." I commented.

"Indeed. We worked hard to make sure as few trainees as possible were seriously injured or died during normal training. Most of those who died were those who reacted badly over time to The Choice and later the Grasses. We might not have shown it all the time, but we cared about the lives of our wards." Vesemir sighed deeply. "Which made the fact that so many died during their final trials so much more tragic."

We moved on from there and as we got closer to a ladder that led to the top of the Bastion walls we found another ghostly memory.

Carl was going through sword forms once more as Ermey overlooked him.

"Is that a sword or an eggbeater?! Strike from your wrist, not your elbow! Again!" Ermey yelled. "I know you can do better so don't go embarrassing me by doing less than your best!"

Huh, was that a compliment I heard? I didn't say anything as the memory winked out.

"We searched up here pretty well and didn't find anything the wraiths would be obviously attached to. All that is left is the walls and towers." I pointed out.

"Indeed. Let's get to climbing then." Vesemir said with a nod as he attached the lamp to his belt and started climbing the ladder to the top of the wall. I followed not long after.

The view from up here of the rest of the valley and even Kaer Morhen was pretty impressive. I was near certain that trainees hung out here on the wall when they had nothing else to do and just took it all in. I wonder what else Witcher trainees would do for fun in a place like this…

I followed Vesemir along the wall until eventually we walked through a door into one of the three corner towers, this one's ceiling being half-collapsed and covering the floor in rubble and other broken remains of what have once been an office. Sadly, the sunlight plainly illuminated the half-dozen skeletons with old pitchforks and makeshift spears sticking out of them where they lay.

All of the skeletons belonged to children.

Vesemir didn't say a word as he wordlessly placed the lantern on the ground and its glow revealed the past once more.

A shadowy Ermey was looking around in confusion as before him stood Carl and some other boys.

"A horn…? Something's happening. You're all to hide, wait till I come back!" I saw as Carl and the other boys wordlessly argued with the man going by the gestures they were making. "Yes, I know you've all trained with swords, I'm the one who taught you. But you're all still shit with them. I want you behind those rocks, keep your mouths shut and look out after each other. You'll only be good Witchers one day if you stay alive after all, and it's my job to make it so." Emery said with conviction as he walked off and the memory ended.

Neither of us said anything. In fact, all Vesemir did was walk over to the skeletons and kneel before them. He didn't speak for over five minutes and I stayed respectfully silent.

"... It's funny," Vesemir suddenly said. "Folk get so scared and mad about Witchers 'stealing their youngins away' that you would think that they would try to at least 'rescue' those we 'stole'. But they didn't spare anyone." Vesemir said in a tone that was not angry, simply… tired. "I wasn't here when the mob came. I wish that I had been so that maybe, just maybe, I could have made a difference, or at least maybe died trying." He sighed, a sound that was full of pain and old grief. "Over fifty Witchers, a dozen instructors, dozens of trainees, and the hired hands, from our mages to the folk who just helped keep the fortress in good repair. All gone."

I didn't say anything. What could I say to a man who for all intents and purposes came home one day to find almost his entire family murdered?

"Well… at least we can give them a proper burial now." I offered.

Vesemir just nodded and stood up. "Indeed. You mind carrying their remains? Wraiths won't like us moving them so I'll focus on keeping them back. We'll bury them in the main courtyard."

"You sure you can handle the wraiths all by yourself?" I asked in concern.

Vesemir just turned to me with eyes that spoke of old sadness mixed with determination. "Let them try and stop me." Reaching into his satchel, he pulled out a couple of potions and swallowed them. His eyes flared, and the veins in his neck stood out. In his off hand, he held a Moon Dust bomb. He was ready for whatever they could throw at him.

---

I could say how amazing Vesemir was as he consistently cut down any wraith that barred our path, how he seemingly danced around ethereal swords and slayed the deathless with a simple flick of the wrist, how he was the very epitome of Witcher experience and skill.

But all I could think about as Vesemir kneeled and prayed before the six new graves was how old and tired he seemed. How despite being able to fight monsters with the best of them he seemed so drained and seemed more his near two centuries at the moment more than any other time I interacted with him. How his whole stance was one of a man who wished he could have done better despite the whole world being against him.

I just hope that doing this brought him some kind of peace.

We planted two swords at the head of every grave, marking each child murdered before their time as the Witchers they strived to be.

While Vesemir was paying his respect and sanctifying the graves I walked off searching for something that just like this now cleared out Bastion could be part of the School of the Wolf's future.

I dug around in a nearby burned down shed and, sure enough, I found another skeleton, this time of an adult, and next to it a dirt and ash covered satchel. Inside the shed, I found a journal and a diagram for a sword. Dusting both off, I carefully wrapped them in a clean cloth to preserve them for the trip back to the keep.

"Hey Vesemir! I found more remains." I called out to the elder Witcher as he looked up to my call. "According to the journal on him his name was Varin, and there was something on him I think you will be glad to know survived the past couple decades."

While Vesemir was not happy about burying yet another old friend, he did smile as he listened to his words once more, complaining about their old mage and the fact that there might be more old secrets of the school to discover.

If this Bastion was to possibly teach a new generation of Witchers, they would need proper gear after all.

---

"I think we should wait for your mage friend to get here before we start exploring the old towers and labs your mages used to use. Old and unattended mage laboratories can be pretty dangerous for those without lots of skill in magic themselves, and sometimes even then." I pointed out.

"You don't have to tell me twice. I'm not so old that my desire to recover the diagrams is overcoming my good sense." Vesemir sniffed. "Though at least there will be plenty to do this winter to pass the time. Usually they can be pretty boring, but seems like you just being around prevents it." he finishes with a smile.

"Thank me for that when we don't have to crawl around dangerous and likely monster infested ruins for unsure rewards." I said blankly. Vesemir just laughed at the truth in that.

We were all eating lunch in the dining hall again by the time we returned, Leo giving an update to Vesemir about internal repairs and Ivar still going over a thick tome as he ate. Which is what led into what happened next.

"Vesemir, while I was inspecting the western walls I found these notes in an old chest in an old cell. It mentions you and Geralt. Was this Berengar an old friend of yours as well? I'm sorry to bring up possibly a bad memory given what you saw at the Bastion-" Leo started to preemptively apologize before Vesemir held up a hand to stop him.

"Let me stop you there, Leo. Berengar isn't dead, just hasn't been here in Kaer Morhen for a few decades. My past with him is… 'mixed' to say the least. Let's see what you got there." Vesemir said as he took the notes from Leo's hands and read them over. "Huh, nearly forgot about this project of his."

"Project?" Ivar's head raised up for the first time since lunch started. "What kind of project?" he asked with interest.

"He was trying to forge a silver sword, Tor'haerne. I advised at best but the boy never did successfully forge the sword. He never let me near the anvil, just pestered me with questions. He wanted to do it all by himself, as always. But then his whole plan went to the devil. Literally!"

"When you say 'literally'..." I left the question hanging.

"He set out to hunt a nearby chort. Fiend made its lair in a valley past the keep. Don't know why, but he took all his equipment with him… Maybe he thought I'd tinker with the sword while he was gone? He was stubborn like that." Vesemir just shook his head. "At any rate the chort proved to be strong. Too strong. Berengar had to turn tail. And since it's hard to run with four stones of kit under your arm, he dropped it all. Came back red with blood… and shame. Hardly said a word, and left soon after. Never to return."

We all went silent at that, unsure how to respond for a few moments.

"Soooo… are his notes and gear possibly still there?" Leo asked curiously.

"Maybe. Though if the chort is still there I would advise a great deal of caution. Berengar had his flaws, but he was a damn good fighter. Any Witcher that goes there could be in for a wild ride." Vesemir warned, staring down Leo to make it clear the trainee was not to go anywhere near the chort.

"Assuming the diagram survived, it would be a nice addition to the one we got at the Bastion. Better gear is always a good thing in our line of work. Maybe we can wait till your fellows return and gang up on it?" I suggested. "I don't know about you, but I don't give even a chort good odds against a group of Witchers teaming up."

"True… and if nothing else we can recover the tools that Berengar lost and remove a dangerous pest so close to home. We'll talk about it later." Vesemir shrugged before turning to me. "As it is, we should spend the rest of your day on your training. I'll teach what you need to know and you can spar with dummies and Leo. Better pay attention or else you'll be sparing seriously with me again."

I shuddered. At least Vesemir knew how to inspire me to work harder.

I really should focus on my sword and other Witcher training anyhow since lots of the other mysteries of Kaer Morhen Valley are best solved with a mage on hand and I had no idea when Triss would get here. When Eskel and Lambert get here they can even help with both. There were a number of things I wanted to do and collect before snow started falling and I would be stuck mostly inside with nothing but training and teaching alchemy and Signs.

For the rest of the day however I had lots of bruises to look forward to.