The gates of Kaer Morhen's keep groaned shut behind Vesemir and Seb upon their return from the hunt.
Vesemir carried a sack over one shoulder, the weight of ghoul claws and alghoul spines clinking softly with each step. Sebastian followed, unusually quiet, boots scraping stone.
Inside the keep, the fire in the main hall had burned low.
Vesemir set the sack down heavily on a wooden table and began sorting the remains, claws separated, teeth collected, usable glands wrapped in cloth.
Sebastian stood near the hearth, watching the flames.
Finally, Vesemir wiped his hands on a rag and turned.
"Alright," he said evenly. "It's time to talk, Seb."
Sebastian didn't meet his eyes at first.
"I know," he muttered. "I wasn't supposed to interfere."
Vesemir waved a hand dismissively.
"No. Forget that."
His voice wasn't angry.
"That flame, child… that wasn't magic. And it wasn't Igni."
He stepped closer, studying Sebastian carefully.
"I may have been in the middle of a fight," Vesemir continued slowly, "but I'm not blind. I know the feel of a Sign. I've cast Igni more times than you've drawn breath. What you did out there… that was something else, it wasn't magic. Of that, I'm sure."
Vesemir's gaze sharpened.
"And it's not the first time I've seen it. During your Trials. During Sign training. When your Igni flared out of control." He shook his head slightly. "It wasn't some magic instability. that was restraint. You were holding something back."
He stepped forward and placed a firm, steady hand on Sebastian's shoulder.
"I'll be more honest with you than you've been with me," he said quietly. "I've heard the crackle of flames from your chamber long after the others slept. I noticed the coin that went missing. Twice." His brow furrowed. "And you vanished for two nights only to return claiming you'd lost your way in the woods trying to gather alchemy ingredients."
His grip tightened.
"What are you hiding, child?"
Sebastian exhaled slowly.
For a moment, only the fire in the hearth spoke.
Then he raised one hand.
A small flame bloomed in his palm, not from flint or oil, not drawn from air through a Sign. It simply… existed.
"It's true," Sebastian said quietly. "I hid things. My powers."
The flame grew slightly brighter.
"I can generate fire at will. That's why Igni has always felt… wrong. Unstable. It isn't the Sign that's flawed. It's that my power doesn't follow magic's rules."
He looked at Vesemir directly now.
"It's not magic. And I don't run out of it. I can generate as much fire as I want."
The old witcher didn't interrupt.
Sebastian lowered his gaze briefly.
"As for the coin… I tried to reach a town beyond the forest here. I thought I could manage it alone." A faint, embarrassed smile touched his lips. "I couldn't. I lost the coin on the road."
'And that's only half the truth,' he thought to himself. 'Some things I can't tell yet.'
Vesemir stood silent for a long moment.
He was stunned, that much was clear but the reaction never reached his face fully. Years of discipline held it in check.
"I can see why you hid it," he said at last.
His voice was calm, thoughtful.
"What I don't understand is why you hid it from us."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Did you think we would fear you? That we'd mistake you for a threat?"
Sebastian's smile was faint, almost sheepish.
"I didn't want to look abnormal."
Vesemir stared at him.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
A deep, weathered sound that echoed off the stone walls.
"Abnormal?" he repeated. "Look at me, boy. Look at all of us."
He gestured vaguely at the keep, at the small scars on his own face.
"Mutated by alchemy. Eyes like beasts. Hearts slowed by poison. We train children to fight monsters for coin." He shook his head with amusement. "How is that for normal?"
Sebastian chuckled softly.
Vesemir's expression softened.
"When you walk the Path, you'll see things far stranger than yourself. Creatures we barely understand. Powers older than the Conjunction." He studied Sebastian carefully. "But I will admit… your gift is peculiar."
Sebastian's eyes flickered like flames.
"Peculiar," he echoed.
Then he took a slow breath.
The flame in his palm flared.
And in the next instant, fire engulfed him.
Not violently or destructively.
It wrapped around his body like a cloak, swirling along his arms. His whole body became a figure of living flame, yet the stone beneath his boots did not burn.
His voice came from within the fire.
"I forgot to mention," he said calmly, "I don't just generate fire."
The flames intensified briefly, casting wild shadows across Vesemir's face.
"I am fire."
The blaze receded slowly until only Sebastian stood there again, unharmed, unscorched.
Silence filled the hall.
Vesemir looked at him for a long time.
Then he exhaled.
"Well," the old witcher muttered, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. "Now I've seen it all."
He met Sebastian's eyes again.
Almost with a look of responsibility.
"Well, what the hell," Vesemir said firmly. "You still need to master your swordsmanship, don't let this get into your head, alot of creatures in this world are immune to fire!"
****
Winter came again to Kaer Morhen.
Snow buried the broken battlements and filled the cracks in the courtyard stones. Frost clung to the old keep.
The courtyard rang with the sound of steel.
Sebastian's boots scraped across packed snow as he parried, pivoted, and countered. His breath misted in the cold air, golden eyes sharp and focused.
Lambert circled him lazily.
"You're getting faster," Lambert remarked dryly. "Still predictable.. But faster."
Sebastian attacked. Lambert sidestepped easily and tapped him on the ribs with the flat of his blade.
"Predictable," he repeated.
Eskel leaned against a pillar nearby, arms folded, watching with amusement. "You say that every year."
"And every year it's true."
Vesemir stood near the forge, warming his hands over a small brazier. "Less talking, more fighting," he called. "Lambert, you're not here to lecture."
Lambert snorted. "Gods forbid I educate the youth."
Sebastian rolled his eyes but adjusted his stance. Snow crunched beneath his boots as he pressed forward again, this time forcing Lambert back a step.
Eskel raised a brow. "Careful, Lambert. He might bruise your pride."
"My pride's indestructible," Lambert shot back.
"Of course," Eskel muttered.
Vesemir chuckled under his breath.
The rhythm of winter at Kaer Morhen had settled, training by day, stories by firelight at night. The keep felt less empty when the witchers gathered, even if they filled the silence mostly with insults.
Then the wind shifted.
Eskel straightened first.
Lambert stopped mid-step.
Vesemir's eyes lifted toward the gate.
Sebastian followed their gaze.
Through the drifting snow, beyond the broken outer wall, a silhouette emerged against the pale white landscape.
A horse.
No.. two riders on one horse.
The shape moved steadily.
Lambert squinted. "Either I'm seeing things, or we've got company."
Eskel tilted his head slightly.
Vesemir's recognized the rider.
The figure drew closer, dark cloak whipping in the wind. The rider sat straight-backed, familiar posture carved by years on the saddle. Snow clung to white hair that caught what little light the sky offered.
In front of him, smaller. Wrapped in furs. Slight frame, but upright despite the cold.
Lambert smirked. "Well, I'll be damned."
Eskel's scarred face softened faintly. "He's not alone."
Vesemir stepped forward slowly, boots crunching over ice to open the gate.
The gates creaked as the riders approached.
The horse stopped just beyond the courtyard entrance, breath steaming in the frigid air.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Snow drifted between them.
The older rider dismounted first, weary but unbroken. He helped the smaller figure down with surprising care.
The child's boots hit the snow uncertainly, but they didn't fall.
Golden eyes met green.
Sebastian studied the newcomer.
Small, but not fragile. There was something sharp in the way the child looked around, taking in the keep, the men, the mountains around it.
She was not afraid.
Lambert leaned toward Eskel. "This place keeps getting stranger every winter."
Eskel gave a faint grunt of agreement.
Vesemir approached the rider.
"You took your time, Geralt." the old witcher said.
/-\
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