The Hym lingered for only a moment longer, It watched them with intent. Then, as if satisfied by what it had witnessed, it receded.
And it was gone.
Sebastian kept his gaze fixed on the well where it had been, flame still burning in his hand, steady and controlled. Vesemir did not relax either.
The Count, however, barely seemed aware it was gone at all. His eyes remained locked on the stone, searching, hoping, perhaps irrationally that if he stared long enough he might understand what he just saw.
"There are two ways to deal with this thing," Seb said evenly, "both of them difficult in their own way."
The Count blinked slowly, as if dragged back from somewhere far away.
"…Yes," he said hoarsely. "Yes, whatever you need. I will help. I want this nightmare to end."
Sebastian shook his head once.
"You don't need to be involved in this," he replied. "The options are simple. One is we deal with it the Witcher way. We fight it here, where it all started, and force it out."
His eyes shifted briefly to the darkness.
"The other… we try to trick it. Make it latch onto a different person. By committing a horrible, maybe a worse crime than your wife did. Feed it something it can't resist watching."
He paused for a moment.
"I just don't think we can stage anything more horrific than what already happened here."
The words landed without dramatics. That was what made them worse.
The Count swallowed.
"…The Witcher way," he asked quietly, "is dangerous I assume?"
Vesemir answered before Sebastian could.
"It is straightforward," he said. "We bring your wife here. This place is the source of it all. We light torches around, draw the Hym out, and end it."
His gaze sharpened slightly. "But understand this, it will use her. It will force her mind into places she cannot control. It will make her see things, hear things… it will ask and try to make her hurt herself far more than it even did before."
"But it won't kill her," Vesemir added. "The Hym doesn't want a dead host. It feeds on the living until they go completely mad or commit suicide."
Sebastian nodded once.
"I recommend we do it the Witcher way," he said. "Tricking it isn't reliable here. And if this continues much longer, your wife will eventually kill herself anyway."
His voice softened slightly, not with sympathy.
"That is what it is pushing her toward."
The Count stood very still.
When he spoke again, his voice was calmer than, too calm, in a way that suggested everything inside him had already broken.
"Very well," he said. "I understand what must be done."
He looked down for a moment, then continued.
"I will bring her here, I will tell her nothing of what we have discovered.."
A faint tremor passed through his jaw.
"I will… act as though I know nothing."
He paused for a moment. "I feel anger toward her!" he admitted quietly. "I do not know how long I can maintain this act.. But I will do so until this is over."
Vesemir looked at him for a moment, then nodded once.
"I'll go with you," he said. "I can calm her if needed. Axii will help if she resists."
Sebastian was already turning slightly toward the remains.
"But first.."
He stopped himself.
"I know," Vesemir finished.
Sebastian nodded once.
"We burn this," he said simply. "Leaving it here invites worse things. And it's the right thing to do regardless."
The Count did not look at him, his eyes remained on the small, broken skeleton.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, quietly "…Yes."
Sebastian stepped forward.
Flame gathered in his hand again, brighter this time.
He lowered it toward the remains.
The fire touched bone.
As the flames spread, Sebastian spoke, not for anyone else in this hidden chamber, but for the child who would never answer.
"You who were wronged before you understood what wrong even meant…"
The fire grew gently.
"…who learned fear before comfort, and silence before a name, hear this."
The cavern's shadows trembled.
"Let this fire take what pain remained bound to you. Let it take what was done in darkness, and what was never answered in light."
The Count lowered his head.
Sebastian continued,
"No child should end like this. No life should begin in suffering and end in silence no one acknowledges."
The flames deepened, spreading carefully now, consuming.
"The world failed you before you had a chance to understand it," he said. "And there is no justice in flame that can repair that."
"But the Path does not leave the dead to rot where they fell."
The fire brightened softly.
"So go. Wherever there is no hand to reach you, no fear to chase you, and no shadow to follow you."
The bones began to crumble into ash.
"Let nothing of this place bind you and may the road beyond be kinder than the one you were forced to tread here."
His voice softened slightly.
"Rest, your suffering ends with these flames"
A final burst of flame.
"Farewell, Albrecht Wilfrid."
The fire settled.
And then it was done.
The Count stood motionless, tears slipping down his face, but he did not wipe them away.
"…I'm terribly sorry, son." he whispered.
Vesemir exhaled slowly.
"This was necessary," he said quietly. "Better ash than a future lingering curse."
Sebastian let the last of the flames die from his hand, the light fading back into torchless darkness.
The devices, the chains, the bones, all of it reduced to nothing but memory and soot.
He turned slightly toward the exit.
"Bring the wife," he said. "I'll prepare the torches. we wait here."
.
.
.
.
With the remains gone, Sebastian had transformed the space into something almost ritualistic. Torches lined the rough stone in a wide circle, evenly spaced, their flames steady. Each one had been lit the same way, with controlled bursts of flame that danced across his fingertips without ever growing wild.
Now he sat in the center of it all.
Legs folded, eyes closed.
The firelight painted shifting shadows across his face, but he did not move. The only sound was the faint crackle of burning wood and the distant drip of water somewhere deeper in the stone.
His voice broke the silence softly, speaking to himself.
"…What a terrible contract."
He paused for a moment.
"I expected something straightforward for my first one…"
He exhaled slowly through his nose, almost tired.
"…but of course it isn't."
The torches flickered slightly.
Then he heard footsteps approaching.
Vesemir entered first.
The Count followed closely behind him.
And between them, Elin, his wife.
She looked… present, but only barely.
Her steps were uncertain, her gaze drifting as if she was trying to understand why she had been led somewhere she did not remember agreeing to. Her eyes scanned the chamber slowly, taking in the torches, the stone, the Witchers.
Then she frowned faintly.
"…Two Witchers.." she said, almost confused. "So they really do think I'm cursed.."
Her eyes shifted toward her husband.
"I'm not sick!" she added quickly, almost defensively. "I'm just… unwell. That's all."
The Count opened his mouth, but Vesemir was already moving.
A simple gesture. A subtle sign of Axii.
The effect was immediate.
Elin's posture softened slightly, her resistance fading. Her eyes lost their sharp edge of confusion, settling into something quieter… more fragile.
Vesemir studied her for a moment, then spoke in a lower voice, meant for the Count and Sebastian.
"…She didn't even react to this place," he said grimly. "That's not a good sign, the Hym been feeding on her for too long she can't even remember this place..."
Sebastian didn't open his eyes yet.
Vesemir continued.
"And since her memory is fractured. That thing has been inside her mind for too long. Once we force it out, whatever's left of her thoughts… will come crashing back at once and she may not be the same person afterward."
The Count stiffened slightly.
Vesemir turned his head just enough to look at him.
"Are you sure you're ready for that?"
The question lingered in the air longer than any spell.
The Count stepped forward slowly.
His voice was steady, but it was the calm built over something already broken.
"I am prepared for whatever comes next," he said. "Let us begin."
Silence followed, Sebastian finally opened his eyes.
Slowly, he rose from his meditative position.
The torches around him flared faintly in response and he looked at Elin for a moment but not with judgment or anger.
"…Then we start," he said quietly.
/-\
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