"There are female witchers?"

Gawel nodded. "Vesimir hinted once about them, but I've never seen any and don't know where their school is. I would imagine a fair distance from here or they would be more than a rumour as we are." He thought it might be very nice to visit this school some time, compare techniques and training strategies. Maybe he could talk Vesimir into revealing its location if he knew and he could do that.

"And what do you mean by a child born under a promise?"

Gawel smiled at that as he pulled out some dried meat and laid it on a stone at the edge of the fire to warm up. He didn't mind eating it cold, but why waste a good fire when he didn't have to? "Despite what the stories say, naughty children are not kidnapped to be mutated and become witchers. They must be destined to become witchers, if you believe in destiny. Occassionally someone, after recieving help from a witcher, will offer anything to pay for such services, anything the witcher desires. Sometimes it is the wealthy, thinking that anything the witcher may ask for they can afford. Other times it's the exact opposite; someone who doesn't have money but wants to offer payment in some way. The witcher is required to ask twice if they are sure that is what they are offering and if they agree twice something along the lines of, 'what's waiting for you that you don't know about' or 'the first thing you lay eyes on when you go home'. Then they promise to return in so many years and see if destiny has what they wish. If a child fullfills that promise, then they are taken to become a witcher. So it is with all witchers. It's not a very well known fact, and it must remain so or no one would be foolish enough to offer anything the witcher desires." He paused, thinking, then added, "And before you say anything, no they are not paying for services with their children. It could just as likely be a dog, or a bauble or anything really. And the child must agree to go of their own free will as well, no one is forced."

*

Within the next couple of days they rose higher in the mountain until the path they were following finally levelled out. Still nothing could be seen and it was starting to snow already. Gawel had been right: another day or two and the passes would be filled with snow and impossible to go through. Of course he could always use his and Sara's fire skills to melt the snow but that could have other effects that he would rather avoid. Besides it would cost too much energy on both their parts. Gawel had completely healed from his encounter with the koshchey, except for the new scar but that was no reason to expend more energy than necesary.

It wasn't until they turned a bend that Kaer Morhen appeared in all her glory, or so it seemed to Gawel who felt more as though he were coming home than anything else. It was a rather ugly, squat castle, more of a fort than anything else, no more than four levels high in the towers, surrounded by a moat with a draw bridge currently down and portcullis open. They would close again come night and remain closed while the passes to the castle were impassible. Gawel paused on the rise they were at to look at it, rather picturesque despite its ugliness with the snow drifting down around it, starting to coat the tops of the walls and buildings in a fine, white powder.

"Home," he said softly, and for the first time since the koshchey incident, a genuine smile crossed his features.

"Come on," he said after a moment. "Let's go get warmed up, introduce you to a couple of people."

He led the way down towards the castle, crossing the drawbridge without incident. They emerged into a courtyard and there training were a group of young boys, maybe ten years old, perhaps half a dozen of them. They were drilling with the sword, under the direction of a witcher about Gawel's age who looked up when they approached. Gawel nodded a greeting, which he returned, but his eyes were on Sara and they remained suspicious. Even a couple of the boys had paused to stare curiously but, being young, they held none of the lust that the older trainees may show.

"Come on," he said again, leading the way into the castle. "Vesimir's probably out training the older students but I can show you to the guest rooms first then go get him."

Sara looked on in awe as they rounded the bend and Kaer Morhen was thrust into view. It was a very old castle fortress, with large stone blocks that stood out gothicly against the pure snow that was falling slowly. The tops of the towers and walls were dusted white, as was everything around, including Sara and Gawel.

"It's very beautiful." Sara said in response to Gawel. "I would love to get warmed up, and to meet your friends." She followed him inside the castle, and was surprised to see several young boys practicing with swords in rhythem, their movements matching their neighbors perfectly. She made eye contact with the witcher, who seemed to be the same age as Gawel, and was met with a suspcious glare. Turning her eyes away, she made herself stand taller, but took a protective step closer to Gawel.

"What is Vesimir like?" She asked. In truth, she was more than a little nervous about meeting Gawel's friends. She was sure that they would be nice, especially when Gawel was around to witness anything, but she wasn't sure how she would be recieved, if Gawel was right in saying that most women were commonly banned from Kaer Morhen...

"Vesimir? He's..." Gawel trailed off trying to think of the right word, finally settling on, "Fair. He's a stern but a fair man. We don't really have an organized ranking system once you've completed training, even during training it's very loose. But Vesimir is the oldest of us, though he's in no way old, so his opinion is often sought and respected. I guess he's not so much a friend as my father," he eventually concluded. "He's respected enough that if he's ok with your staying then the others won't hastle you too much."

The castle interior was very ostier and devoid of unnecessary decorations making it obvious that no women lived here and the men who lived here all year round saw no need for anything that wasn't functional. They walked into a dining room with wooden gneiss and tables and a large fire place at one end with iron grating over it from which could be hung pots and pans and on the other side of the grill was what appeared to be a kitchen with two boys, maybe thirteen or fourteen and an adult were hard at work making dinner.

"We don't have any servants or anything," Gawel said. "All the chores are rostered mostly among the apprentices with either an older apprentice or a full witcher to help and supervise. It also makes sure we're all taught what we need to know outside Kaer Morhen."

"Though I still seem to remember switching your shift if only so we all didn't have to suffer another day of your cooking."

Gawel turned in surprise at the voice and broke into a huge grin. "Jarek!" he exclaimed and he moved foward to give his old friend a bear hug, clapping him on the back a few times before stepping back to look him over. "You haven't changed a bit," he declared.

Jarek, tall and wiry, looked nothing like Gawel. He was blonde, had sparkling blue eyes and an easy, roguish grin, topped off by being dressed in the latest fashions. All in all he was a very attractive young man who looked like he would be more suited to the theatre or in the ballrooms of aristocrats rather than wielding either of the two swords he wore on his back.

"And you look just as borish as ever," he retorted, his grin of equal to Gawel's. "But tell me, who is this goddess of beauty you have brought to grace our dreary halls?"

"Jarek can't you say anything plainly?"

"Nope, never!"

Gawel sighed dramatically before saying, "This 'goddess of beauty' as you so eloquantly phrase it, is Sara, a young sorceress who saved my life just recently. She's a friend and I was hoping she could winter here with us."

"Well you'll see no complaints here," Jarek replied, smiling sweetly at Sara. On anyone else it would almost seem lecherous, but Jarek kept his eyes well above her neckline and seemed genuinely sincere in his words of praise. "She saved your life, you say? Better not let Randen hear that or we'll never hear the end of it."

"Ain't that the truth," Gawel agreed ruefully. "Sara," he said, turning to her, "this is Jarek, as you've probably already gathered. We trained together, and were brought here at the same time aparently."

"So Vesimir likes to say," Jarek said. Then, adopting an annoyed, older-man tone, said, "'Two peas in a pod. One half mischief the other half trouble,' he used to say."

Gawel chuckled. "Speaking of Vesimir, where is the old coot?"

"Out back, training of course. I have no doubt he'll be eager to see your companion."

Gawel nodded. "Yes, I intend to take Sara to the nice guest room upstairs then go fetch him."

"Oh take her with you! Give the boy's a treat!"

"I don't think so."

"Come on, they'll be talking about her for months! We sure did."

"That's exactly why I'm avoiding it just yet. Let us see what Vesimir says before we go stirring up too much trouble."

"Fine, old maid."

Chuckling, Gawel placed a hand on Sara's arm in case she needed her attention brought back to him, "Come on. I'll take you to your room. It has a lock on it, I promise," he added, looking directly at Jarek as he said so.

"You're no fun!" Jarek pouted before walking away.

Sara was too busy taking the castle in while Gawel spoke to come up with replies of her own. She was lamenting the inability to have fixed her clothes properly while watching the boys in the kitchen cook when an airy, almost sarcastic voice broke into their little circle. Sara followed Gawel's lead and turned around, to find a very unwitcher like man standing before them. With blonde hair, blue eyes, and a thin frame, Sara couldn't help but wonder how this man survived the transformations into becoming a witcher.

She watched as Gawel clapped the other man on the back, calling him Jarek, and exchanging genuine smiles. Sara loved seeing Gawel's face brighten with real smiles. When Jarek's gaze swept over to her, she barely resisted moving behind Gawel, opting instead to be as goddess like as possible, as if she was compared to a goddess beauty everyday. When Gawel mentioned the fact that Sara had saved his life, a blushing heat spread up her neck, he didn't need to put it that bluntly...

She let the conversation between friends continue, happy to just watch and listen, although she did incline her head briefly when Gawel formally introduced Jarek to her, and has those sharp blue eyes hit hers, she couldn't resist a smile of her own, thinking that if this man really wanted, he could sweep any woman off her feet, witcher or not. It was amusing listening to the banter between friends, and while she wasn't directly a part of it, she felt like she was. When Gawel placed his hand on her arm, she moved her eyes back to focus on him, thinking she was about to be led away. When her mind caught up to what he was implying when he mentioned the lock on her door, and the way Jarek reacted, brought a little blush to her cheeks, she had certainly not thought of that.

Gawel couldn't help but be amused at the way Sara was reacting to Jarek. It wouldn't be the first time he had drawn such a reaction from practically any woman, and even a pretty boy on occasion, he came across and he highly doubted it would be the last. She shouldn't be embaressed by him admitting that she had saved his life. Likely she had since if he had not been pulled out he would have died slowly and painfully as the potions wore off and his body was less able to hold up the weight of the rubble.

Catching the blush with his comment about the lock, Gawel laughed. "Don't worry, no one should bother you. The younger ones would get their behinds tanned, the older ones will have other punishments and the full witchers remember the punishments they received growing up to know better." He certainly remembered them enough to keep him in line, he reflected.

Gawel led the way up a spiral stair case, through bare stone room, then up another stair case at the end of it, stopping at a door near the top. Pushing it open, he stood aside to let Sara walk in first. The room was rather lavishly accommodated and, unlike the rest of the castle, had polished marble floor, a large fire place in the centre of the round room, glass windows looking out over the rear training courtyard and elegant furniture. The double bed was large and piled with furs and blankets, a lush rug at the floor next to it, marble basins, a full length mirror, the whole works.

"What do you think?" he asked, already knowing the answer and closing the door behind him. "Think you could winter here? It's the room normally afforded to guests with a high social standing, aristocrats, sorcerers from the tower, people like that. But judging by the fact there's no one's belongings here it looks like you'll be the only guest this year, or for a few years I think."

"Don't worry, no one should bother you. The younger ones would get their behinds tanned, the older ones will have other punishments and the full witchers remember the punishments they received growing up to know better.

Sara tried to restrain the blush from creeping up her cheeks as she allowed herself to be escorted along. "Oh, I'm not really worried about being bothered in that fashion, it's just..." Her voice trailed off as Gawel opened the door to what would be her room.

The sight took her breath away. The floors were polished to such a high sheen, she could see her reflection. The fireplace in the center of the room was incredible, with white marble pillars circling around at perfect intervals. The bed was against a window that overlooked the courtyard, the furniture matched and was exquisetly carved. She moved forward to run her hands through the mountains of furs piled on the four-poster bed. They were lusciously soft.

"Think you could winter here? It's the room normally afforded to guests with a high social standing, aristocrats, sorcerers from the tower, people like that. But judging by the fact there's no one's belongings here it looks like you'll be the only guest this year, or for a few years I think."

"It's...it's wonderful." Sara said, her eyes were wide as they greedily took in her chamber. "I'm certainly honored." She turned back to Gawel, and smiled.

"It's...it's wonderful. I'm certainly honored."

Gawel smiled. "Well, it kind of has to be nice since often people are kept here and in a couple of other tower rooms and that's it when they guest here. I'll go talk to Vesimir though, see what he can arrange. Why don't you make yourself at home here, get a fire started and the like, get some of the mustiness out of the room," he suggested before leaving to go find his old teacher.

As Jerak had said, Vesimir was out in the rear courtyard with some of the older students, below the window in Sara's room. Gawel waited a moment until the sequence was concluded before clearing his throat loudly to get the man's attention.

"Got a cold, Gawel?" the man said without turning around.

Gawel chuckled. "We don't get colds, you know that," he said. Moving foward they clasped hands in greeting. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Oh a little birdy told me you had arrived with some 'goddess of beauty'. Figured you would be by soon to ask me to meet her."

"Jerak."

"Jerak," Vesimir replied. Becoming serious, he said, "So then. Who is she? And why did you bring her here? You know our rules."

"Sara is her name, a sorceress. Not affiliated to any ruler or aristocrat," Gawel said. Vesimir scoffed at that but Gawel continued, "It's true. She would be eaten alive at court, she's too naive."

"And that trait made you think it worth the risk in bringing her here?"

"No, her honesty and trustworthiness did. She saved my life, Vesimir, when she had no reason to do so. I took a contract to take down a koshchey -"

"Gawel!"

"I know, I know," Gawel held his hands up placatingly. "And it got the better of me, threw me into a house. I was burried and unconscious. She finished off the koshchey, dug me out and healed me up."

"What were you paid for this? I take it you gave her the money."

"I would have. As it is... they threw stones at us and drove us away instead," Gawel admitted, unable to meet his teacher's eyes.

Vesimir was silent for a moment then rested a hand on Gawel's shoulder. "We'll talk more about that later. In private perhaps."

Gawel nodded. "She saved my life Vesimir. The least we could do is offer her shelter for the winter."

"Let me meet her, then we'll decide," he said, then gestured for Gawel to lead the way.

Heading up to the tower room once more, doing his best to hide his limp, he knocked on the door, waited for her to call out then opened it and let Vesimir enter first.

"Vesimir, this is Sara. Sara, this is Vesimir, my teacher," Gawel said, introducing them.

"A pleasure," Vesimir said, holding his hand out for hers before raising it and gently brushing his lips against her knuckles in and old fashioned, gentlemanly greeting. Vesimir was an older man, in his late forties perhaps, his white hair to his shoulders, face aged, weather-beaten and scarred with a broken nose. Despite his age, he carried himself with the confidence and grace of one who could easily keep up with someone twenty years his junior. He was still strong and his forearms were scared also, but solid, his hands callused from years of swinging a sword. Despite his harsh exterior, he had kind eyes that nonetheless held the look of someone who was used to being obeyed.

He gestured to a seat and sat down himself. Gawel, meanwhile, went to the window and looked out and down at the students training there.

"Tell me, child, what made you decide to follow Gawel here?" Vesimir asked.

((coffee works wonders))

((Hehe Yay for coffee!))



Sara stood up from where she had been kneeling next to the fire, trying to get one started. It was easy to do it without magic, so she never really bothered to do it that way, unless she was in need of a hot fire, and fast. She brushed her hands together to rid them of some wood particles before giving her hand to Vesimir. She smiled when his lips briefly graced her knuckles. So old fashioned and gentlemanly, she was beginning to like him already.

After he released her hand she inclined her head in a short bow of respect, "I'm honored to meet the mentor of Gawel." She said.

"Tell me, child, what made you decide to follow Gawel here?" His voice was strong, one of a commander, but it also had a note of respectful curiosity. Sara knew there was no way anyone could lie to this man, not that she would want to, but in a way that comforted her.

Sara turned her eyes over to where Gawel stood by the window, looking over the courtyard, then moved them back to Vesimir. "It was after he took the job I had offered, to protect me while I harvested Feainewaed that grew in a swamp near my cottage." Sara felt there was really no need to explain the dangers of swamps or of Feainewaed while harvesting it to Vesimir. "When he was going to leave, I had a nagging thought that this was my only chance to leave that cottage and see the world."

Gods above! She sounded like a little girl, babbling about seeing the world... She had had a very good life at the cottage, but it wasn't good enough. Now she was here. She stole another look over at Gawel and she couldn't stop her heart from flipflopping. She looked at her hands and wasn't able to stop her mouth from continuing to talk. "I know that sounds like an odd thing, but I am glad that Gawel thought I was worth it."

"I'm honored to meet the mentor of Gawel."

"Oh I was hardly his only mentor," Vesimir said with a smile. This was true, Gawel had had many teachers, but Vesimir still remained the most influencial of them, the one he went to for advice. He was also the one who punished him as a child for misbehaving so his earlier description as a father figure was more to the truth. "But thank you."

"It was after he took the job I had offered, to protect me while I harvested Feainewaed that grew in a swamp near my cottage."

Vesimir frowned at that. "And why would a sorceress need protecting from swamp creatures? Surely with your powers you would be able to fend off a few drowners while you fetched your plant," he said. Gawel turned around in surprise at that; it was something he hadn't thought of before now. "Who was your teacher and what affiliation did she have?" Vesimir continued. "Forgive my prying, but you understand we don't like people prying into our business here."

"When he was going to leave, I had a nagging thought that this was my only chance to leave that cottage and see the world. I know that sounds like an odd thing, but I am glad that Gawel thought I was worth it."

Vesimir was silent at that, and he glanced to Gawel, then back to Sara, considering. He was a strong believer in destiny and the fates, if he wasn't he wouldn't have been lucky enough to have brought as many young boys to become witchers here. Never mind that currently only three of them lived. And it sounded very much as though she felt destiny's calling to leave and journey with Gawel, though why Vesimir could not guess at.

"And why would a sorceress need protecting from swamp creatures? Surely with your powers you would be able to fend off a few drowners while you fetched your plant. Who was your teacher and what affiliation did she have? Forgive my prying, but you understand we don't like people prying into our business here."

Sara turned her eyes away, rather ashamed to have to reveal that reason in front of Gawel. She stood straighter, and trying very hard not to blush, she said firmly, "They scare me. And, if I am brutally honest, I tend to wander off into my own thoughts when I'm out harvesting, and sometimes don't register the things around me. As for my teacher, her name is Adrianna Morinwether. I haven't spoken with her in several years. Her affiliations?" Sara paused, and her brow crinkled together. "I can't recall her ever having strong affiliations with anyone. She taught me how to think completely impartially and coolly, and I always assumed that's how she always was."

Sara smiled then as she looked at Vesimir. "I forgive your prying, and I am all too happy to answer any questions you have about me. I understand that women, especially sorceresses, aren't the typical guests here, and I have no intention of prying into your matters or intentionally intruding... I do have one favor to ask though." She turned her eyes downward, not accustomed to asking for anyones help. "You wouldn't happen to have some fabric, needle and thread laying about, would you?" She shrugged off her cloak to reveal her torn sleeve and pants. She smiled sheepishly, but she really did want to repair her clothing, or if there was enough extra fabric, make herself a new tunic and pants.

"They scare me. And, if I am brutally honest, I tend to wander off into my own thoughts when I'm out harvesting, and sometimes don't register the things around me. As for my teacher, her name is Adrianna Morinwether. I haven't spoken with her in several years. Her affiliations? I can't recall her ever having strong affiliations with anyone. She taught me how to think completely impartially and coolly, and I always assumed that's how she always was."

"Adrianna... ah yes..." Vesimir muttered to himself, seemingly deep in thought. Gawel cocked his head to the side curiously as he watched Vesimir. He knew the man well enough to know that something about Sara's teacher had caught his interest. Then he seemed to come out of his reverie and nodded to what Sara had said. "Recognising and admitting your weaknesses is the first step in moving past them," he said, glad that she had opened up with that, and told the truth. He would be able to tell if she were lying.

"I forgive your prying, and I am all too happy to answer any questions you have about me. I understand that women, especially sorceresses, aren't the typical guests here, and I have no intention of prying into your matters or intentionally intruding."

"You would be surprised," Vesimir said. "Our work tends to attract the powerful and very often at the top of that powerful chain are mages and sorceresses. Normally, however, they do not guest a whole winter and are barely known to have visited throughout the castle."

"You wouldn't happen to have some fabric, needle and thread laying about, would you?"

Vesimir laughed at that and Gawel couldn't help but smile as well. "Indeed we do. You don't really think we would be able to train like we do and not wind up with a few ripped shirts and trousers now and again, do you?" he said with mirth. "I will send some here for you.

"As for you staying the winter," Vesimir continued. He paused and then said, "I can see little harm in it. So long as you don't go prying or scrying into any room behind a locked door. Most of these would simply be private chambers but some are locked for a reason and it would be for your own protection not to attempt to see what is behind the doors. And so long as you dress moderately, none of the form fitting, breasts hanging out dresses that most of your kind seem to enjoy wearing. It will be even more impossible to get the older boys to focus on their training."

That said, he stood and inclined his head to her. "I will send someone up with some sewing supplies shortly. Gawel, if you would come with me?" he said.

"Of course," Gawel replied and he followed him out, shooting a grin over his shoulder to Sara as he went, glad that it had gone so well.

A short time later Jarek was at the door with a box of supplies, full of needles of varying lengths and thicknesses, threads of a wide range of colour and even a few scraps of material and soft leather that could be used as patches. He knocked and waited.

Sara smiled at Gawel as he left, following Vesimir. After the door shut behind them, Sara plunked herself on the bed, letting her muscles relax as the soft furs brushed her cheek.

She must have fallen asleep, for she started awake when there was a knock on her door. She sat up, ran her fingers through her hair and called as normally as she could, "Come in."

When the door opened to reveal Jarek, Sara couldn't help a smile. Once she got past the uneasiness of not knowing him, she was beginning to like this man. She noticed he held a rather large box, which she assumed held the fabrics and other sewing things she asked for. "Jarek. How nice of you to be the errand boy for me!" Sara's voice was light and moderately teasing, hoping that she wasn't trying too hard to be friendly to Gawel's best friend.

"You are limping, Gawel," Vesimir said. It wasn't a question so Gawel remained silent. "How long ago?"

"Three weeks," Gawel admitted. They were in Vesimir's private room so he could speak freely without fear of anyone over hearing. Not that he was too worried about that, but there were some things he didn't like the whole castle knowing about. "A kikimore got the best of me. I made it to a temple and they healed me."

"And yet you have not healed. Let me see it," Vesimir said. Normally Gawel would obey anything Vesimir said practically instantly but on this he hesitated. Vesimir sighed. "I've seen you naked, boy, I was pressent through the worst of your trials. I'm guessing it's in a rather, shall we say, delicate area considering your hesitation but I'm not going to be seeing anything I haven't seen before."

Vesimir had a point, Gawel knew. And he remembered going swimming naked in the springs near here as a boy. But he was also embaressed that he obtained such an injury in the first place. Still, he knew he couldn't just tell Vesimir to lay off it like he had Sara. The best way, he knew, was just to do it. So he stood, undid his breechers, dropped them to his knees and sat down again, sticking the injured leg out. The scar, a livid, red and raised welt was about half an inch, to an inch wide and wound from the outside of this thigh down near his leg, curling around the front of it to end up at the upper and inner part of his thigh, right next to his groin.

Vessimir growled softly to himself seeing it and, moving his own chair closer, used his fingers to probe the muscle around it, feeling the tight knots of the torn and scared muscle. "Looks like it tried to cut your leg clean off," Vesimir said.

Gawel chuckled. "Well fair's fair I suppose; I had just cut off one of its legs. Though the priestess who healed it said I was lucky not to lose it."

"Or your life I don't imagine. The bloodloss alone. However did you defeat the thing and get yourself to the temple? I assume you were paid for it."

Gawel nodded. "It was the temple who comissioned it. It had moved into a cave they used to cultivate different herbs and fungi. Honestly though, I don't remember much of how I finished it off or got to the temple. They said I would have died either of the injury or poisoning myself with the amount of potions I must have taken to get me there. I was pretty high, I remember that."

Vessimir chuckled and stood. "I'm not surprised," he said as he moved to a cupboard. Opening it he took out a jar of something and tossed it over. "Work some of that into the scar and the muscles around. It'll burn like a mother fucker but it should loosen it and help with the pain over the winter."

Gawel nodded, unscrewed the top, sniffed, screwed up his face before refastening the lid. "Thanks," he said. "I'll have to get you to teach me how to make it."

"Hopefully you wont need any more of it than that," Vesimir said as he came to sit down again and Gawel pulled his pants back up. "Now. Tell me about how she managed to save your life. Biting off more than you could chew again?"

"You could say that," Gawel said with a rueful smile.

*

Jarek opened the door and grinned at her light-hearted teasing. He gave her his best courtly bow and said, "It is always my pleasure to be errand boy of a beautiful lady, such as yourself," he replied eloquently, using his best aristocratic accent.

"A gift!" he said, presenting her with the box. "I toiled long and hard to find just such a fitting present, bested spiders and cobwebs like you could never believe, traveled to far distant lands to this wondrous place called the closet!"

Sara laughed as she was presented with the box, and did a very elegant curtsy as she accepted it. "You are a very brave man, my dear Jarek." She said, her voice solemn, but her eyes twinkled with barely restrained mirth. She opened the box and inspected the fabric and needles, and smiling again, she set the box down on a desk that was only a half-step away. Turning back to Jarek, she resumed her solemness and said in the best queenly tone she could must, "I shall have to think of a suitable reward for your gallant bravery of enduring the dangers of the closet." Before she even finished her sentence, she was in giggles again.

"A reward?" Jarek clasped a hand to his chest in mock shock. "Why, my lady, no reward is necessary after being able to witness your beautiful face! But... perhaps you may do me the honour of keeping me company in this dreary castle? The inhabitants here are ogres, they communicate in grunts and swing blunt knives around they dare call swords. But you! You are civilized, and enchanting, and have I mentioned beautiful? No matter, and beautiful as well!" He clasped his hands before him and ducked down a little so he could look up at her beneath fluttering eyelashes in the cutest puppy dog look he could give. "Keep me?"

Sara was nearing tears in her laughter, barely able to breath. And when Jarek gave her that adorable puppy look, and asked her to keep him, that was just too much. She laughed harder than she could ever recall laughing before, and as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, she met his eye and said, "I would be delighted to keep such a handsome and wickedly funny man such as you company."

She sat down next to the fire, afraid her legs were going to cease holding her up. "Care to join me?" She asked, as she pulled a swatch of fabric from the box along with a needle and a light blue thread. She began to stitch, still releasing little bubbles of laughter.

Jarek grinned when Sara burst into laughter. Mission accomplished. When she turned to sit by the fire he caught sight of her ears and it made sense then; he had been wondering how her laughter was so melodic, how she could be so beautiful as, along with playing the courtier, he hadn't been lying when he said that she was beautiful. She was half elven, which was very appealing. He found full elves too willowy, too thin, almost elongated. Their was no denying that they were beautiful, however, but it was the half elves he found most beautiful of all. And here was one in front of him.

"Care to join me?"

"My pleasure," he said and he sat down next to her. He stared into the mesmerizing fire for a little while, gathering his thoughts. He had always loved fire, and tended to over use his igni sign because of it. Unlike Gawel. "So what do you think of your fearless hero, Gawel," he asked, a small smile on his face as he continued to look into the fire, allowing Sara the privacy to react how she would. Of course he could still see her in his peripheral vision but she didn't need to know that.

"So what do you think of your fearless hero, Gawel,"

Sara was caught a little off guard by the sudden question of Gawel. She continued her stitching. "As far as fearless hero's go, I think he's quite capable." She finished her prestitching along both ends of the sleeve. She ran it up her arm for sizing, then removed it, needing to take it in a little bit. "How long have you and he been friends?"

"How long have you and he been friends?"

Jarek shrugged. "Forever," he said. "I don't know what you know about witchers but the mutation process destroys our memories, among other things. No witcher remembers their childhood before Kaer Morhen. We only have what we're told where the one who brought us here still lives. Vessimir told us that he was the one who brought us both here, at the same time, so I guess we've been friends since we were six or seven. After the mutation though," he grinned, "that's where the fun began anyway. Before that it's just bad food and hard training and knowing that most of the kids going through it with you won't live to their eighth birthday. Mind they never told us the fatality rate. But kids aren't stupid, they work it out. I may not remember my own time before the mutation but I can see it in the kids here now. They know that only a couple who go away for the mutation process are seen again."

Jarek leaned back on his hands, one leg stretched out before him towards the fire, the other foot tucked under the outstretched knee, relaxed as he remembered. "Gawel was fun and willing to try anything regardless of whether it was against the rules or not. That's why I liked him I think. There's another witcher around here somewhere, Randen. He's the other one who still lives of the boys Vessimir brought here. The old coot did seem to have a knack for acquiring the boys who would survive; of all the children brought here Vesimir's had the lowest mortality rate. Lucky for us, huh?" he said, shooting a grin to Sara. "It's probably his lack of caring about the rules that convinced him to bring you here despite the general ruling against female visitors."

Sara listened intently, soaking up all the information that Jarek was willing to give her about Gawel. She couldn't help but smile at the imagery of Vesimir chasing a laughing Gawel and Jarek up and down the stone hallways of the castle with a leather belt being swung over his head. "So you and Gawel were trouble-makers?" The Gawel she knew didn't seem to match with what Jarek remembered, but she hoped it was just because he was more worldly and more grown-up.

When Jarek commented on the rule of no female visitors, Sara couldn't help but have a shock of guilt. "I'm that unwelcome, huh?" Her usual confidence flew right out the window. She really didn't want to cause Gawel problems, especially here with his friends and mentors.

"So you and Gawel were trouble-makers?"

"Mmm, I think it was more I was the trouble maker and Gawel just enjoyed coming along for the ride," Jarek replied smiling. "Though don't let him convince you he's completely innocent, he came up with his fair share of pranks as well. I just normally came up with the better ones," he said with a small chuckle, remembering a couple. "It's not so uncommon. Boys will be boys and all that, but it also lightens things up around here. You've only to look out your window to see that. Training, diet, education and more training, it needs lightening up."

"I'm that unwelcome, huh?"

Jarek waved a hand dismissively. "Not really, if you were Vesimir would have confined you to just this room. He must have liked you and decided you were no threat. This is a castle full of men and boys, many of whom barely even remember that women exist. Nonetheless we all still have hormones, the teenagers especially. It can be dangerous for women to come here, for them and for the apprentices. That's all. That and many magic users, male and female, come here in an attempt to find out about the mutagens, what they are, what goes into them, what's required to make them work without killing. But if that information were to fall into the wrong hands... well you can see where that would go. So we have to be secretive and secluded. It works both ways see," Jarek explained, hoping to put her mind at ease as he stared into the fire.

"There was a young sorceress who came here when Gawel and I were about fourteen. Andi... Arri... Alli..." He shook his head. "I don't remember her name. Her and Vessimir became close I remember. She was always moderately dressed, not like many of the women I've seen since leaving Kaer Morhen, but she was the first woman we got to see up close since she was also allowed to dine with us." He smirked then. "Gawel and I decided to try and peep in on her while she was changing." Jarek chuckled, grimacing at the same time. "Never try and peep on a sorceress, that was the lesson we learnt. We had to stand on the blocks for two days after that. Probably the second worse punishment we ever got," he said, chuckling with the amusement that one gains after the years had passed.

*

Gawel explained to Vesimir about the appearance of the koshchey and how it had essentially defeated Gawel only to be killed finally by Sara. "I don't know how she did it," he said, "I don't remember anything after hitting that wall, but there were burns on it, ice around its legs and my sword jammed in the middle of it so I can make an educated guess." He then went on to explain how Sara had found out there were two suspects in the village who may be behind the summoning.

"What I don't get is why? In a capital or a large city or something, sure. Plenty of people to hide among and plenty of unpopular people in power to want to take down. But there, in that town? It's not even marked on any maps and the villages just called it Town. Four, five houses maybe, and a tavern. There's nothing there that someone would want," Gawel concluded.

"No one, maybe, but possibly not nothing. For a start there is obscurity."

"But-" Gawel interrupted but was cut off when Vesimir rose his hand for silence.

"As you said, the place is tiny, not even on any maps. Travelers don't go there and should a villager travel abroad who would believe they weren't exaggerating as most common folk do to make their lives more interesting?" Gawel nodded conceding the point. "Also there is an abundance of natural supplies, both botanical and anatomical. I wouldn't be surprised if you asked around there weren't a few people and children going missing, put down to the monsters of the surrounding areas. No, what I'd be more interested in is what their future plans are. This koshchey you fought was obviously not perfect. You are not yet experienced enough to be able to take one on your own, and you should have known that," there was a level of scolding in Vesimir's voice and Gawel looked down, accepting it, "but the fact that you and a sorceress who, as far as I can tell, has very little to no combat practice with her skills were able to makes me believe it was not perfect. So why does this creator want a perfect koshchey, what are they planning to do with it once it's done."

Vesimir paused then and looked up to Gawel, looking into his eyes to make sure he had his attention. "This is not our business, understand? It does not affect us. We must strive to remain neutral. However, for all we know it could be against us, in which case it is our business. So we need to find out where it leads to be certain."

Gawel slowly smiled; Vesimir was twisting their code so they could legitimately find out what was going on. Of course, Gawel had every intention of doing just that regardless, but it was good to know he had his mentor's support. He nodded in agreement.

"Though don't let him convince you he's completely innocent, he came up with his fair share of pranks as well. I just normally came up with the better ones,"

Sara smiled. She was beginning to see why Jarek and Gawel were such good friends. While they seemed to be completely opposite of each other, especially on physical appearance alone, she could tell they both shared a hearty appetite for mischief.

"...It can be dangerous for women to come here, for them and for the apprentices. That's all. That and many magic users, male and female, come here in an attempt to find out about the mutagens, what they are, what goes into them, what's required to make them work without killing. But if that information were to fall into the wrong hands... well you can see where that would go. So we have to be secretive and secluded. It works both ways see,"

"Dangerous?" Sara's eyebrows furrowed. "Well I certainly don't have any intent to disobey Vesimir, and while I'm curious about the process, I know when to leave well enough alone."

"Never try and peep on a sorceress, that was the lesson we learnt. We had to stand on the blocks for two days after that. Probably the second worse punishment we ever got,"

At that Sara gave him a wicked look from the corner of her eye. "I do hope you have retained that lesson." She said, still teasing him. "I'm surprised you weren't burned into a crisp by her," she paused for effect, "or frozen solid." Sara set her finished sleeve on her lap, knowing she would have to remove her shirt to finish patching it, and wasn't about to do that with Jarek sitting right there. "What was the worst punishment you ever got? And of course, why did you get it?" She turned to face him fully, her eyes bright with excitement, knowing that she was learning little tidbits about Gawel that he may have never told her.

"Dangerous? Well I certainly don't have any intent to disobey Vesimir, and while I'm curious about the process, I know when to leave well enough alone."

"Dangerous for us, dangerous for you, both for different reasons. Don't worry, it's more dangerous for a woman without any way to defend herself. Which I'm sure doesn't count for you with your abilities," Jarek said, dismissing the matter. Vesimir obviously trusted her not to go poking her nose where it didn't belong and if she had saved Gawel's life she could obviously look after herself and that was all that mattered to Jarek. "As for the process, well," Jarek's face darkened a little at that. "The less you know about the details of it the better, trust me. Suffice to say it's a long and torturous process and the fatality rates speak for themselves."

"I do hope you have retained that lesson. I'm surprised you weren't burned into a crisp by her, or frozen solid."

Jarek laughed at that. "Oh don't worry that lesson has been ingrained so that even away from Kaer Morhen I don't dare become a peeping tom for fear of Vesimir discovering it. And don't worry, we were frozen. Maybe not solid but our hands were frozen to the door, feet in place and Gawel, who had been taking a turn looking through the key hole at the time, with his forehead frozen to the door." He snickered. "She didn't have to say anything, Vesimir came to visit and found us like that and it was enough to condemn us." He laughed again. Maybe he should remind Gawel of that time, could snicker over it with a couple of drinks.

"What was the worst punishment you ever got? And of course, why did you get it?"

Jarek grimaced at that. "The worst is no where near as amusing and even more deserving," he said. "There were four of us who were brought at the same time. Gawel and I bonded rather quickly, as did the other two, Randen and Cowel. As for us mingling together though... that never happened. We hated each other. It went beyond rivalry and one day it turned particularly nasty. I don't even really remember what started this particular fight but Gawel and I cornered Cowel. We got into a fight, all of us got pretty bloodied up and no one was really the winner since we were caught before anything was resolved. All three of us had to stand on the blocks for two days. Except half way through the night Cowel fell off and didn't get up. One of our punches had knocked his head too hard and he died that night. Our own punishment was extended another day and a half for that," Jarek said. That was probably his biggest regret, and he knew it was Gawel's as well. The first man they killed and it had been over some petty adolescent fight, and an accident at that.

"But enough of such things," he said suddenly, changing the subject, not wanting to be stuck on such dreary and depressing topics. "You're interested in witchers, if you weren't, regardless of your motives, wouldn't have wanted to stay here through the winter. So why don't you tell me of all the myths and legends you've heard about us that need clarifying. That's always fun," he said with a smile.

"You're interested in witchers, if you weren't, regardless of your motives, wouldn't have wanted to stay here through the winter. So why don't you tell me of all the myths and legends you've heard about us that need clarifying. That's always fun,"

Sara smiled. "Well would you like me to tell you what I believe about witchers, or what I've heard?" She lifted an eyebrow and gave him a quirked smile. She leaned back, her arms back behind her supporting her weight. "I have heard that witchers are unnatural abominations created by dark magic, that they possess no emotions or soul, and above all else care only for money and will kill anything for the right price, monster or man. I have also heard that they are ever lustful after women and have no sense of humor or kindness of heart." Sara paused and put on her best dramatic frown as she pretended to think a moment. Then said with a mockingly serious tone, "I believe a priest told me that." She cast an impish smile over to Jarek, making sure that he was catching the immense amounts of sarcasm she had just thrown at him.

"I have heard that witchers are unnatural abominations created by dark magic, that they possess no emotions or soul, and above all else care only for money and will kill anything for the right price, monster or man. I have also heard that they are ever lustful after women and have no sense of humor or kindness of heart."

"We're also normally ten feet tall and shoot lightning from our eyes," Jarek replied, his tone quite serious even though his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Unfortunately there are some of us who that is close to the truth but me?" He grinned and shook his head. "Unnatural abominations created by dark magic? Mmm maybe, but it's not really the magic that's dark but the user and how they use it. Possess no emotions or soul? What is a soul, really? It's nothing we can see, nothing tangible so how does anyone know who posesses it and who does not? As for emotions, well some mutations go bad and strip that away too but those witchers don't normally last long; not having any sense of fear would do that. And will kill anything for the right price... well that's just not true, though what the price is and what counts as a monster varies from witcher to witcher. As for the women, well," Jarek grinned at Sara with his best charm, "you'd be the best judge of that. I think between myself and Gawel we've disproved the humour and kindness."

"I believe a priest told me that."

Jarek scoffed at that, replying, "Be sure to give him my regards and pass on the ten feet tall, lightning from our eyes message. Be interesting to see where that pops up next."