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Aiden had never invested that much time in refining his signs. And that was how he had gotten them into this mess.
Before Lambert ran headfirst into a Nightwraith that had been terrorizing a small village, he told Aiden to keep Yrden on the ground.
Aiden swallowed, not completely audible for Lambert, who was a good few paces ahead of him. This is going to get messy.
Assuming Lambert would dispatch the wraith fast enough was the second mistake Aiden made. He should have known better than trusting the specter oil alone would be enough even if it was one of Lambert's improved recipes. You can't cut something that isn't solid.
Instead of telling Lambert to cast his own Yrden, Aiden threw down his pathetic excuse for the sign. It was nothing more than a flimsy light show that wouldn't even warrant a crowd at a Belleteyn celebration.
Sure, wraiths turned corporeal when inside the ring. The problem was that the circle was about one meter wide and centered around Aiden exclusively. Leaving Lambert, and the wraith, exposed.
"You're shitting me." Lambert hissed, giving the small circle around Aiden's boots an astonished look. He flicked his hand absentmindedly, casting an area roughly five times Aiden's. The runes of Aiden's spell flared up before flickering out, being overpowered by the superior magic.
"Nope," Aiden shrugged apologetically before ducking out of the way of the Wraith. "Never needed a bigger one."
Lambert rolled his eyes in exasperation, "We are definitely talking about this once this bitch is in the ground." He took up a position next to Aiden, his silver sword reflecting the milky moon hanging in the sky.
Aiden smirked, "Looking forward to it," his smile faltered when he saw the wraith glide towards him. Readying his weapon, he waited for the—frankly, quite creepy—shade to get close enough to strike.
Her deafening shrieks chilled him to the bone, and the pungent smell announcing her arrival made Aiden’s stomach heave.
He hated fighting wraiths.
Lambert wasn't sure what was up with the wraith. It looked eerie. Or they looked eerie? He counted the usual amount of limbs, but instead of the expected number of heads—being one—it had two nearly identical ones.
The wraith's ripped gown flapped in the wind, its top bodice torn to shreds. It gave Lambert a good look at the rest of the specter's anatomy without getting too intimate. The dual necks made the wraith's torso awkwardly wide. It had to accommodate what Lambert could only guess would be extra bones or even organs.
"You ever seen this before?" Lambert flexed his hands around the hilt of his sword. The specter oil gave his blade an iridescent glow.
"Not as a wraith" Aiden twirled his equally gleaming haladie and cocked his head. "I have seen something similar in Barsa. They call it a joined twin. They consider it lucky for two souls to inhabit one body."
"This look like a lucky bastard to you?" Lambert readied his sword, eager to dispose of the wraith as fast as possible.
"We're not Barsani. And she isn't human anymore."
The wraith hovered into Lambert's Yrden, making the runes surge to life violently. It lashed out with one of its decaying arms, reaching for the wolf. Courtesy of a well-aimed Moon Dust and Lambert's Yrden, the wraith failed miserably. It was vulnerable enough for him to cut a limb off at the elbow with his broadsword.
"Nice," Aiden whispered under his breath as he took advantage of the commotion to move behind the wraith. Lambert saw him slashing his haladie in fluid repetitions, burying it in the specters' too broad back. The unearthly form barely seemed to notice.
Seeing Aiden roll behind the wraith made Lambert nervous. It was translucent enough for him to keep track of the man, but in fear of hitting Aiden with his strike, Lambert didn't want to attack the wraith on the off chance he would.
Seeing the glowing blades of Aiden's haladie emerge in rapid butterfly movements from the specter's chest, Lambert smirked and shook his head. The man he loves was ferociously rending his way through a wraith, and all Lambert could do was enjoy the view.
Loves?
He stood nailed to the ground.
The thought echoed in Lambert's mind before he managed to push it away. In his brief panic, he failed to notice the second wraith that had crept in on them. Not until it passed through him.
He snapped back to attention as the sickening feeling of a non-corporeal entity occupying the same space as his body went through him.
Glancing down, he saw the purple runes were gone. His head snapped towards Aiden, who gave an undignified squeak. Aiden stumbled through the now invulnerable wraith he was gutting only moments before.
Lambert was only barely in time to brace himself for the incoming collision.
Aiden barreled into Lambert with enough force to knock the wind out of him. Lambert wheezed as their noses nearly touched.
"Thanks, handsome. Come here often?" Aiden quipped, giving Lambert a cheeky wink.
"There's a second wraith," Lambert hissed, pushing Aiden away. The vile plasma covering the cat stuck to Lambert's armor in strings as he pulled away. This is going to be hell to clean up.
Aiden really hated fighting wraiths.
Looking over Lambert's shoulder, Aiden saw a dark shape float closer to them. "I see her. She's behind you." Aiden glanced at Lambert, panic lingering in his eyes. He hadn't seen Lambert this distraught since the arachnomorph incident last year.
Lambert seemed to have regained his composure and readied his sword in a defensive stance. "That lucky lady of yours is incoming on the other side. Looks pissed."
Aiden smirked, "I commented on her fashion sense."
He rolled his eyes at Lambert, who didn't respond to the lighthearted joke. Aiden took up a position with his back against Lambert's, ready to tackle whatever came their way.
Quickly, Lambert signed Yrden. The spell's static electricity was there a moment before he saw the runes pop up around them. They captured both wraiths and witchers in a large enough area to comfortably fight in.
Lambert raised his sword and let gravity do the work, slicing clean through the two-headed spirit. As the two halves tumbled to the ground, it almost made sense to him. If it wasn't for the lack of limbs on either side now. The corpse disintegrated before hitting the floor, leaving a small pile of dust and sticky grime behind.
Turning around, he saw Aiden made quick work of the remaining wraith. His haladie flew through the spirit with little resistance.
As the second wraith went down, Lambert took a moment to take in the serene look Aiden had on his face. It baffled him that the cat found peace in something as disorganized as fighting. Then again, Aiden was a witcher worthy of the feline medallion he wore. Chaos pumping through his veins.
The thought Lambert pushed away earlier invaded his brain again. Aiden looked up at him in triumph with a radiant smile.
Love.
Lambert swallowed.
Hard.
"I fucking hate wraiths," Lambert grumbled, trying to get an exceptionally sticky bit of wraith guts out of his hair.
The creek running next to their camp was the only goal Aiden had right now. The cat stripped while walking. In any other setting, he would have even tried to make it look sexy. But right now, he just wanted to get himself cleaned up as fast as possible.
"I don't think I've ever seen you fight anything you didn't hate, pup," Aiden replied as he waded into the shallow stream.
"Don't hate you, and I'll take you on in a heartbeat." Lambert threw him a cocky grin while wiping down his swords.
After hanging his armor on one of the lower branches of a tree, Lambert walked back to the trail of garments Aiden had left in his wake and picked them up. Probably the smartest way to do it, Aiden thought. Waiting for the specter plasma to dry out overnight would make scrubbing them off with a brush easier in the morning. Lambert hung Aiden's clothes next to his own.
"Thank you," he called out to Lambert, who was rinsing his face and arms. Not much of the ichor had hit the wolf—the pros of keeping your enemy at arm's length.
"What had you so distracted when the second one appeared?" Aiden's voice carried over the water easily. "And toss me my soap, will you?"
Walking over to their tent, Lambert scooped up Aiden's haladies, wiped them off with a rag, and placed them next to his already cleaned swords.
He rummaged through Aiden's saddlebag until he found what he was looking for and chucked a bar of eucalyptus-scented soap to Aiden, who effortlessly snatched it from mid-air.
"I just lost track of the fight because of the entire two-headed freak situation." Aiden saw Lambert picking at his nails as he glanced over.
Now that was a lie if he ever heard one. However, something in Lambert's voice told Aiden not to push on it.
"I don't like killing wraiths either," with a contemplative sigh, Aiden lathered up and rinsed himself as fast as the cold water allowed.
"The mess they cause is such a bitch to clean up," Lambert agreed.
"That's not what I hate most about them." Aiden waded in deeper and dipped his head back to get the ichor out of his strawberry blonde hair.
Lambert gave him a puzzled look. "Then what?"
Aiden thought back to the two-headed wraith. Once upon a time, she'd been a girl with hopes and dreams. Which all shattered, resulting in her being unable to have peace with her fate. He hated how this worked.
"Wraiths come into existence whenever a soul with unfinished business can't let go."
Lambert raised a curious brow, "And?"
Aiden sloshed out of the stream with a heavy sigh. He grabbed the towel Lambert held out for him and rubbed himself dry as he walked towards their camp. His throat started to close up.
"I'll need a drink if you want to hear why."
Lambert rummaged in his pack, digging up a bottle of pepper vodka he'd brewed that winter. Aiden had taken refuge inside the tent that shielded them from the early spring cold. Dressed in a loose tunic, he held his arms open in invitation.
"Drinks, and a wolf. I've had worse for breakfast."
Lambert saw the joke for what it was, Aiden trying to keep his composure. As much as Lambert used his fury to keep people at a distance, Aiden did the same with his sense of humor and charm. The goal was identical. Aiden was trying to shut him out.
Sitting down between Aiden's legs, Lambert leaned back against his chest. He was letting the cat wrap his arms around him. Cold drops of water slid off the tips of Aiden's hair, landing in Lambert's neck and making him flinch. It reminded him of the skin-crawling sensation of the wraith ghosting through him.
After taking a swig from the bottle of vodka, Lambert handed it to Aiden. "So, why do you hate killing wraiths?"
Aidens grip tightened around his waist as he let out a deep sigh. "When I started training at Stygga, one of the things I loved most was the bestiary lessons. I enjoyed learning about all of the different creatures and how to deal with them."
Aiden took a big gulp from the bottle. "When we got to wraiths, I realized they were different from all the other monsters in how they were born."
Lambert shifted. Wraiths came into existence after a wrongful or violent death led the soul to linger behind. Eventually, they went insane and would try to exact revenge on those that caused their death—and anyone else unlucky enough to pass by. More often than not, they would have to be taken out by witchers.
"So, you hate that they are victims?"
Aiden sighed and took another swig of vodka. "I hate fighting them because I see myself in them, had I not become a witcher."
Lambert was silent. He was very much aware of who Aiden was and how his life had started, with parents that confused him for someone that he was not.
"Because of your past?" Lambert asked hesitantly. He didn't want to chance opening up old wounds for Aiden. Who didn't like to talk about the time before he arrived at Stygga. And as a fellow witcher, Lambert knew what it was like to be treated as an outcast.
"Yeah. My parents didn't accept me as a boy, but they did love me as their child." Aiden's knuckles were white while holding onto the neck of the bottle. "The same could not be said for the other villagers."
"Fuck those assholes. Their opinions aren't important anyway." Lambert heard the anger in his voice.
"Back then, to me, they were. That village and the forest around it were my entire world. I didn't understand why they thought I was strange or why people treated me the way they did." Aiden finally handed the bottle back to Lambert.
"I thought it had to do with my sense of adventure and the trouble I tended to get into. But it wasn't until I arrived at Stygga and finally got treated like the man I am that I realized the villagers saw me differently because to them, I was different."
Lambert understood what Aiden was getting at. "And people fear what is different." He contemplated the thought for a bit and realized once again how much he disliked humanity.
"Think they would have hurt you if you had stayed?" He asked, lacing his fingers through Aiden's.
Aiden rested his chin on Lambert's shoulder. "I'm not sure they would have, but if I had stayed with my family and lived as someone I'm not, I don't think it would have mattered."
A heavy silence stretched.