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Aard the Cat has become a semi-regular thing at this point, happening at least once a week. And it should really be renamed Aard the Witcher, because it's not just the Cats anymore. It's mostly Cats, still, but there's a number of Cranes, and a few Vipers, and even a couple of Wolves sometimes.
And it's usually Eskel doing the Aard-ing - stupid wolf with his ridiculously overpowered signs! - but there's a Griffin or three that's volunteered to do it when Eskel's been busy elsewhere. It's more fun when it's Eskel, though.
And today it is Eskel! They've been at it for a while already, and have attracted a bit of an audience. Bets are definitely happening!
Kostya has gone twice already, and is getting ready for a third. And this time, he thinks, he's going to try something new! He can't take credit for the idea. He heard a Crane mention it offhandedly a while ago, but it sounded like it could be fun.
Sweeping his eyes across the gathered crowd, he finds Bern and throws him a wink. He gets a fond eyeroll in return. He turns his attention back to Eskel.
"Ready," Eskel raises his hand and prepares to cast Aard again. "Go!"
Kostya springs forward, hand already forming into a sign of his own.
After Kostya got his left ring and pinkie fingers bitten off by a fucking basilisk some four or five decades ago, Kostya basically had to relearn how to cast signs. Losing his fingers hadn't been the problem, in and of itself. Kostya has seen witchers with their whole hand missing cast signs perfectly fine! It’s just that he always tended to switch his sword from his right to his left hand, and make the signs with his right. But with only three fingers, he can’t grip a sword well enough to properly wield it anymore.
He had spent the entire winter following the injury practicing the signs with his left hand, but it had taken almost an entire year before his signs had been back to what they were.
Kostya's signs have never been anything special, but right now that shouldn't really matter. He’s good enough, and his timing is more important. He focuses on Eskel's hand as he leaps into the air. Eskel casts Aard, and Kostya casts Quen.
Whatever result Kostya had expected, it wasn’t to be flung back quite that violently. He lets out a whoop of equal parts surprise and joy, flailing uncontrollably through the air.
He hits the ground hard, and something in his shoulder breaks with a snap. His head smacks against the ground and he rolls several feet more, before coming to a stop, sprawled on his back, the breath knocked right out of him.
He feels more than hears two pairs of running feet approach him, and a second later, both Eskel and Bern kneel down on either side of him. One of them, he can’t really tell which, pries his mouth open. Some small, unscrambled, part of Kostya’s brain supplies that they must be checking that he didn’t bite his tongue off, or swallow it. He can’t taste any blood, so he probably didn’t bite himself, and he’s starting to catch his breath, so no swallowing, either, then.
Through his swimming vision, Kostya can tell Bern’s mouth is moving, but can’t hear the words over the ringing in his ears. He blinks sluggishly a few times, and swallows thickly. His ears pop and the ringing recedes a bit.
"Buh?" He asks eloquently.
"There you are!" Bern sighs, relieved. "What the fuck, Kostya?!" Kostya blinks again, trying to make his mouth work, until he realizes he doesn't know what Bern's asking for.
“What?” he manages. Bern sits back on his heels and puts a hand over his face with a long-suffering groan.
"That was a neat little trick," Eskel says. "Reckless, but clever. How'd you come up with that?"
"Not me. Crane," Kostya slurs. Eskel raises an eyebrow.
"Terrik?"
It takes a second to make the connection that Eskel’s asking if it was Crane Terrik. Kostya shakes his head, then immediately regrets it when it makes everything spin violently, and he has to fight back a wave of nausea.
"A Crane," he amends.
"Fucking Cranes," Bern grumbles and glares down at Kostya. Kostya just beams at him, and attempts to sit up. As soon as he moves his left arm, the pain in his shoulder flares up and he slumps down with a hiss.
"Looks like it's a trip up to Triss for you," Eskel says and looks at Bern. "You got him?" Bern nods and gathers Kostya into his arms. It jostles his shoulder and puts pressure on his ribs, and he hisses a few curses under his breath.
But then he's being picked up and the curses turn into a rather pathetic whine as everything spins again. It's all he can do not to throw up.
"You definitely have a concussion," Bern says and starts walking towards the keep. "You’re lucky you didn’t break your fucking neck! Try not to pass out on me." Kostya makes a noise of assent, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to focus on his breathing, but every breath hurts and he thinks he must have cracked at least one rib.
The trip to Triss is mostly a blur, but then Kostya is being laid down on a bed and he cracks his eyes open carefully, and meets Triss’ look of mild dismay.
“What did you do?” she asks, looking him up and down. Presumably, he’s sporting all kinds of interesting scratches and bruises.
“Aard the Cat,” he mumbles, grinning. “With Quen!”
“Huh. Alright. Let’s see what the damage is, then.”
After some more or less painful poking from Triss, with and without magic, the damage turns out to be a concussion, three cracked ribs, and a broken collarbone. Nothing a bit of Triss’ healing magic and some Swallow can’t fix! But Triss forbids him from doing any strenuous tasks for at least three days.
Treyse scuffs him in the back of the head - after he’s recovered from the concussion - and bans him from any more games of Aard the cat for the rest of the month. And he and Eskel make a rule that Quen isn’t allowed in Aard the Cat, anymore.
Kostya isn’t the only one who makes disappointed noises at that.