The Witcher The Swallow and The Monster

The Cold Beginning

"(F/N), please," "No," "Please," "No," "Please." The young boy sighed as he finished reading the section on ghouls. His eyes were getting heavy from the enormous boredom he felt. Vesemir was already snoring loudly, even the old master witcher was bored with the section. (F/N) shut the book and looked at Ciri, she was beaming at him happily, she couldn't be bored to sleep, she had too much energy, especially for a twelve year old. The pair were currently sitting in the book room, at Kaer Morhen (F/N) was thirteen even for his age he tended to be a bit more pessimistic and subdued, "Fine, as you wish princess."

The ashen haired girl flicked him on his ear, obviously annoyed at him pointing out her parentage, "Don't call me that." (F/N) smiled as he stood up, "Don't be so annoying," the young girl stepped over the the books that laid about the castle floor. (F/N) followed her not as reluctantly as one might expect, and cast one look at the oldest witcher at Kaer Morhen.

The witcher may have been a tad out of shape, and his age was certainly catching up on him, but he was wiser than everyone here. As the young boy followed Ciri through the ancient castle, he got a look at himself in a nearby mirror, he smiled at his reflection, he had short (H/C) hair, bright (E/C) eyes, and clear (S/C) skin. He wore a very loose fitting white long shirt that was opened at the top to reveal a small amount of his chest, and a pair of ratty brown pants and boots to train in. Ciri practically skipped down the old stone stairs, their footsteps echoed, "Come on, we need to hurry."

The older of the two sighed, it wasn't that he wasn't happy to be with her, he was scared of having to polish swords again, "If Geralt or Vesemir catch us, I'm saying you forced me." The ashen-hair girl rolled her eyes, "Don't tell me you weren't falling asleep. Learning about alghouls and ghouls is boring."

(F/N) scoffed as they made their way to the sword room, Ciri made a beeline for the wooden swords, the older boy followed behind just as fast. But they both had to stop when they saw the the rack of silver swords, for fully trained witchers. (F/N) had a dumb childish smile on his face, as he imagined himself riding on a horse, to slay a dragon, maybe be promised a princesses hand in marriage, with said sword on his back. Ciri smiled at (F/N), despite the hard training the two kids had to go through, she still had her child like demeanor, "Come on, one day when we're witchers we can fight with steel or silver, but for now we'll stick with wood."

(F/N) sighed, as he walked over to the rack and grabbed his favorite wooden sword, it felt a little unbalanced to him, "Maybe old age will get me first, Geralt won't even let me hold one of the swords, he let's you." Ciri giggled as she took a wooden sword of her own, "Let's go tackle the pendulums. You can, what did Uncle Vesemir say? Oh right, 'work on your balancing and sense of intuition.'" The young girl laughed some more and ran out of the castle with (F/N) grumbling behind her, that had been a colorful criticism by Vesemir. (F/N) looked up at the sun and smiled, it was a beautiful day, sunny, warm, and without wind, it was perfect for training.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geralt kept his icy sharp gaze as he looked out into the courtyard of Kaer Morhen. The Witcher could hear two children, he looked down and saw two them. Ciri was blindfolded and doing her usual practices on the pendulum, striking it with her wooden sword, and nimbly jumping pole to pole with reflexes like a cat. (F/N) was practicing technique, he jabbed at a wooden pillar, also slicing at it, as he hopped out of the way or did a role, he wasn't as good a fighter as Ciri but he had skills to compensate. Once in a while he would mix in a different kind of blocking style or attempt a parry. Geralt sighed, as he glanced behind him to see the still sleeping Vesemir, and spoke in his deep menacing voice, he would be upset if he wasn't so impressed, "Guess they prefer practice to theory."