Work Text:
He couldn't really remember his birth name. Couldn't even remember if it was more Elven or Zerrikanian. He hadn't been called it very often, anyway- his father had long left to return to the Northern Kingdoms to fight for the Scoia’tael, before he had been born. His mother had important things to attend to, and normally called him endearing nicknames.
She had wanted him to become a Dragon Priestess, like her.
He remembered the look of horror and disappointment in his mother's eyes when he had mentioned that he wanted to be a boy instead. The lectures on their culture that followed. He never, ever mentioned it again.
When she died, he was dragged out of Zerrikania and put in a Nordling orphanage just outside his homeland. There, he was just called 'Runt.' He realized quickly that he would not be leaving anytime soon, if at all- nobody wanted a half-elf child. Especially not one with brown skin. He would stay until he got his first bleed, was pronounced a grown woman, and be thrown out. At least they had the decency to start teaching him Common.
Then he met Guxart. The witcher had seen him scale a tree, seen the scar on his cheek, and must have decided he was witcher material.
“What's your name, little thing?”
“Uhm…” He paused. Hesitated.
The witcher smirked at him. “I see.” He hummed as he straightened back up. “You better make it a good one,”
“I…” He ran through all the names he had ever heard in his head, searching the list for something that felt halfway decent.
“Well?”
“... Aiden?”
"Good choice." The witcher grinned. "There's a word in Elder Speech like that. Aodhán. 'little fire.' You seem to live up to that title. Want to prove me right? Get out of this dump?"
He had agreed enthusiastically. And that rainy night, the moment he had been assigned a hammock in one of the many wagons, he became Aiden of the Cats.
"What the hell is this?"
"It's a kit."
Aiden looked between Guxart and the other witcher nervously, scratching at his neck.
"You were gone a day to get supplies, how the FUCK did you induce the Law of Surprise within that time?"
"I didn't." Guxart crossed his arms. "I adopted him from an orphanage."
Aiden tried to ignore how much his heart swelled at being referred to as 'him.'
"You're fucking joking. You chose this thing?!"
"Treyse, I'm not an idiot." Guxart growled. "He was never getting out of there. He's half-elf and Zerrikanian. Nobody was going to take him. He's smart, agile and resilient. Trust me for once."
The witcher- Treyse- stared down at Aiden, making him want to shrink back. But he stood up straight and stood his ground.
Treyse huffed, then drew a dagger and flipped it. Aiden's elvenblooded ears flattened to his curls. Especially when he saw Treyse throw the dagger.
Aiden flinched to the side, then he heard the thunk of the knife lodging into the wood beside his head. He opened his eyes and turned his head just enough to see where it had stuck.
Treyse hummed. "Alright. He's got reflexes."
Aiden couldn't help himself. "You aimed for my head! Shma tavast mara kesht!" He blurted.
"He says you could've killed him." Guxart grumbled.
Treyse smirked. "He's got a bit of a bite in him." He chuckled. "And yes, I was aiming for your head. But not lethally."
Aiden let out a shuddering breath, eyes wide with shock and adrenaline.
Treyse looked back up at Guxart. "You know the rules."
"I bring him, I train him." Guxart growled.
Treyse didn't look at Aiden again, but he knew that the next words were aimed at him.
"Don't disappoint me."
Aiden felt weird.
If a some training got him hit on the side, he would get twitchy, and it felt like his other side was burning in the same spot.
So when Guxart had hit his arm with a wooden sword, instructing him to return to a starting position to start the drill again, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He just froze.
Guxart frowned, looking back when his ward hadn't moved and his heart had sped up. "Aodhán?" He asked, raising a concerned brow.
"Hit me on the other arm," Aiden whispered. "Lotfa? Please?"
Guxart looked even more confused. "What? Why?"
Aiden stomped his feet in an attempt to release his irrational upset calmly. "I- me binar. I feel sick,"
"You're not getting out of training."
"No, I mean- I feel sick if I don't get hit on the same way on the other side," Aiden explained.
Guxart shook his head- he never understood the whims of kits- and knocked his practice sword into Aiden's shoulder the same way he had before.
"Tashk," Aiden mumbled, embarrassed. "I mean, uh… thank you."
"Is it just getting hurt on one side and not the other, or is there anything else that makes you feel that way?"
"Touches. Actions. It's gotta be on both sides, the same amount of times, in the same way." Aiden looked at his feet. "I dunno' why."
Guxart grunted, looking over his kit.
"Do you want to try with your sword in your other hand?"
Aiden looked up, big golden-brown eyes wide with confusion. "What?"
"Usually we don't start training ambidexterity until the kits have a better grasp of what a blade actually feels like, but I'll make an exception for you, if it will make you feel better."
"Really?"
"Sure. Turn around, I'll help you get into position with your other leg."
"What are they doing?" Aiden whispered to Guxart. The witcher looked over to where Aiden was staring, watching another mentor throwing one of the younger kits in the air, catching them to do so again.
"Kitten-tossing."
"Uh… what is… kitten-tossing?"
"We toss kittens in the air to help them find their sense of balance." Guxart explained. "Wanna try it?"
Aiden looked back over nervously. "You won't drop me..?"
"'course not. Once you're a little older, we may throw you into things that will give you a soft landing, and then once you know how to catch yourself, you won't be worrying about that by then."
Aiden shuffled nervously.
"Basheh."
Aiden squeaked with laughter as he was thrown in the air again.
Guxart's back hurt. He almost regretted introducing kitten-tossing to Aiden- it's the only thing his ward wanted to do in his limited free time for the past week.
But Aiden had barely smiled his entire time he had been at the Caravan- not like this. Never squealing and laughing and happy.
Guxart would throw out his back as many times as he needed to see his ward that happy.
Aiden couldn't say he wasn't nervous.
"I can hear your heartbeat," Guxart said. "You need to relax. You will fall if you don't."
"I'm…"
"Always keep the rope in the very center of your feet. You're going to wobble- that's inevitable, waving your arms looks silly, but it will help until you've got a better sense of balance."
Aiden shivered.
"It's only six feet," He continued. "You don't have to walk the whole thing, I just want you to stand on it. I'll catch you. Go on- don't think about it too hard. Middle of your foot, and let yourself wobble."
"You promise you won't let me fall?"
Guxart shook his head, hands on his hips. "When have I ever let you hit the ground, Aodhán?"
"Never…"
"You won't get hurt. Once your balance is a bit more developed, we'll work on falling safely so you won't hurt yourself. But for today, I'll catch you."
Aiden let out a shuddering breath. "Basheh."
"Good lad," Guxart tilted his head towards the rope. "Go ahead."
Aiden fell every time that day, but Guxart smiled proudly at him anyway.
"Darest nist!"
"Aodhán…"
Aiden watched as Guxart rubbed his face in exasperation.
"It's mushrooms and it's poisonous and it's gonna' kill me!" Aiden argued, kicking his feet against the stool as tears ran down his cheeks.
"Aiden, if it was going to kill you, we wouldn't have any witchers to train." Guxart groaned. "It makes your body more mailable by the mutations, but it will not poison you or even make you sick."
Aiden crossed his arms and pouted angrily. "Man enjamesh nakhahom. Won't do it!"
Guxart sighed like an exhausted father before turning around. "Hey, you!"
A kid with brown hair froze- Kiyan, a year above Aiden. "What..?"
"Come here, take a bite of this!"
Kiyan came over and picked up one of the mushrooms, eating it with a confused look on his face.
"Feel sick?"
"No."
"Dizzy?"
"No?"
"Anything?"
"No!"
"Okay, you're dismissed." Guxart turned back to Aiden. "Eat the fucking mushrooms."
Aiden got his first bleed a year or two into training. He had felt so alone. Nobody else in his class was… like him. Any witchers who were like him walking with the caravan at the time had already been grassed into not having them.
Except one.
Her name was Dragonfly. Or Wazka, before she had become a witcher. She was also one of Guxart's kits, though she was much, much older than Aiden.
She had found him crying behind a supply cart, and knelt down to his level. "Hey, kit. Followed the scent of tears and blood over here. What's got you down? Ya' hurt?"
Aiden shook his head with an embarrassing sniffle. Witchers didn't cry.
Dragonfly looked him over and let out a huff. "First bleed, then?"
He nodded that time.
"I see," She responded, standing back up. "Come with me. I'll help you get sorted out."
Aiden followed her nervously, scratching at his neck while she went digging in a barrel of supplies. "Aha, here we are. These," She hummed, taking out a handful of fabric and showing one of the thick, stitched-together pieces. "You put in your underclothes, to keep them from staining. Next time you get changed, you just throw it in with the bloody clothes pile to get soaked, and nobody is any the wiser. Well, grassed Cats can smell it, but at that point, they don't care."
"… Right," Aiden mumbled.
"And listen," Dragonfly hopped down from the cart and leaned over to look Aiden in the eyes again. "Be smart, Aodhán. Until the Trials, you will still be able to get pregnant. Don't let anyone touch you without permission, okay?"
Aiden nodded.
"Okay?"
"Bash- … Okay."
"Attaboy," She smirked, holding his hand with both of hers. When she pulled away, there was a small knife in his hands. "Be careful out there, kit- and it doesn't matter is someone is coming at you with a dick or a hand holding a weapon, either way, you cut it off."
She patted Aiden's shoulder. "Since you've gotten it a bit early, I'll talk to Treyse about maybe bumping you up a year, if you're coming of age soon."
"… Oh…"
"Don't worry about it, alright? It's for your own safety, you'll be more likely to survive if you're in the middle of your coming-of-age."
"… Basheh."
"Go get some rest, I'll tell Guxart." Dragonfly said as she shoved him gently towards his wagon.
"You insolent little brat!"
Aiden cried out as Treyse's closed fist hit him in the side of the head, and it might've sent him to the ground if he hadn't firmly planted his feet.
"I'm tired of you getting away with being a useless stray!"
"Motesfam, I just-"
Treyse hit him again. Aiden wished he hadn't yelped like he had in response.
"Just what? You're a greedy thief who's behind in everything because he's the runt who has a meltdown if someone looks at him weird." Treyse grabbed a fistful of Aiden's curls, yanking until Aiden had no choice but to look at him.
"Motesfam, I'm sorry-!"
"I should've fucking let that knife go through your-"
"'the fuck are you doing?!"
Aiden let out a shuddering breath as Guxart shoved himself in-between him and the grandmaster.
"What am I doing?! What you should be doing, Guxart, because you never fucking discipline your kits!"
"Yeah, beat the sneakiness out of 'em, that'll go great when we send them off on assassination contracts!"
"I'm beating the disobedience out of them. Especially him!"
"He's got his bleed, and you won't change his rations when he gets it, of course he's going to fucking steal more food! It's food!"
"Do you want to go back to when we had no ration system under Gezras and Cats were tearing each other to pieces over scraps?!"
"We were kids, we didn't know how to run a caravan! And now we know that if you want to train witchers to full potential, you've gotta fucking feed them!"
Aiden startled out of his trance as another witcher came up behind him.
"Let's get you to bed, yeah?" Lexandre murmured.
As they walked away, the shouting match continued until the distinct sound of someone being thrown into the side of a wagon rang out.
"Aodhán?"
Aiden blinked awake to see Guxart gesturing for him to follow, leading him to his wagon. With Treyse having his own as Grandmaster, that left Guxart the last of his year, giving him the place to himself- space for a proper bed, especially. Aiden wished he could sleep on that bed. Sometimes Guxart let him when the older cat had things to attend to overnight, if Aiden got too hurt in training or the cramps in his belly got too much. For the past few years he had been fighting over the right to a hammock in his year's wagon after they combined the two sleeping wagons into one, but ever since they had moved him up a group, there had finally been enough for everyone.
"Here," Guxart said, handing a small bag to Aiden. "I'm a grown man, with the mutations to stay alive and the skill to go hunt for myself. You need more food, and if Treyse won't give it to you, I will."
Aiden blinked as he unraveled the bundle, dried meats and fruits, some nuts. A ration pack.
"Focus on the meat and nuts, you'll need the minerals."
"I…" Aiden worried his lip between his teeth. "Tashkar,"
"Don't mention it." Guxart smiled sadly. "And… actually, don't. I did this for 'Fly too, but I don't need you targeted because you're getting 'special treatment.' You're not- you're just getting what you need, got it?"
Aiden nodded.
"Good."
Aiden hated learning common. Despite how often he told Guxart how useless fluency would be if Cats took contracts mostly from non-humans, and therefore would speak Elder, which Zerrikanian was a dialect of.
Guxart tried to be nice about it, at least, but Treyse just straight up told him that nobody would trust an eastern half-elf, and he should make himself as trustworthy as possible, otherwise jobs like espionage would be impossible.
"In es ahmagh."
"Say it in common,"
Aiden glared at his mentor. "I said, this is stupid."
"I am well aware that you feel that way."
"Yeki talayi…"
"Good, again!"
Aiden took a deep breath as he straightened his back, stepping with more confidence across the tightrope, reaching the other side.
"Face me!"
Aiden pivoted on the rope, keeping his center of gravity still.
"Good!" Guxart praised. "Fall back!"
Aiden let himself tip backwards, catching himself on the ground with his hands and bending his elbows fluidly into a roll, absorbing his momentum and using it to pop back into his feet.
Guxart clapped. "That was perfect, kit," he grinned. "Let's do it again, start on the other foot, and fall forwards this time."
Aiden was a good kid. At least, the other witchers thought that. What Aiden was actually very good at was using his big golden eyes to get out of trouble- he had to be in the orphanage, otherwise he would be beaten for his usual misbehavior… basically every day. He also had to become sneaky so he wasn't caught red-handed.
Whenever he tailed Guxart around the caravan in his free time, the older witchers would sneer at him or look at him with pity.
"He's getting too attached to you," They'd tell Guxart whenever they thought Aiden wasn't around. But that was the thing- Aiden was always around.
He wasn't tailing because he was attached, per sae. It was just that everyone else was boring. Guxart was the second hand to the Grandmaster- his conversations were interesting- Kiyan's idiotic stories that he thought were funny were not. He got good gossip to whisper to his wagon at night after lights-out this way.
Especially this time.
"Treyse, are you fucking insane?"
The grandmaster rolled his eyes. "I'd argue this is one of my least insane ideas."
"Trying to take over another school's territory? That is fucking mad!" Guxart snarled.
"With protection, Gux." Treyse purred.
"Don't fucking call me that."
"I'm just saying. The Court Mage offered me a deal. Think of the School, Guxart, not your Wolf boyfriend."
"He's not my-" Guxart shook his head angrily. "This is a horrible idea, Treyse."
"Fine, fine." Treyse waved Guxart away. "… but we're still going to the tournament. Sponsorship will still be useful, with the trials coming up. It's an invitation from King Radowit II himself."
"Yeah, and what's the chance you'll play fair?"
Treyse looked over his shoulder with a smirk. "Oh, relax. Besides, you said it yourself. It's a horrible idea."
They left for Kaedwen the next day.
"Salaceád!" Aiden chirped.
The boy with pale skin and brown-black hair scowled up at him as Aiden hopped out of the tree and landed gracefully besides him. "Uh… hi..?" He looked Aiden up and down. "I've never seen a girl witcher before."
"I'm not a girl."
"Then what are you?"
"A boy. I just won't look like one until the grasses."
"Oh. Some of my brothers did that too, I think." The boy regarded Aiden with a critical eye again. "Zerrikania?"
Aiden's eyes widened and his ears perked up. "Beli!" He confirmed. "How'd you know?"
"Well, salaceád is a Zerrikanian greeting. In Elder, it's just ceádmil."
"You know Zerrikanian?"
"A little. Still learning. I know Elder, though."
"Oh, yeki teleyi! Me khili khasteh de dh'oinelinge." Aiden wrinkled his nose. "But Grandmaster Treyse said I need to stop mixing Zerrikanian with my common. Said people won't trust me as easily when I'm grown up. And Master Guxart told me the Tournament would be 'good practice.' Even though the rest of the caravan speaks common every damn day."
"That's bullshit!" The boy snapped. "Aren't half of you elvenblooded? And work with elves? Shouldn't Elder be important too?"
"Exactly!" Aiden snapped, ears flattening. "I can't believe a Wolf pup would understand that more than my fucking Grandmaster."
"I can't believe Cats actually have claws," The boy scoffed, putting his sword aside. "Tell you what- we're supposed to be learning from eachother or whatever, yeah? You help me get better with Zerrikanian, I can help you with common. And also show me how your sabotage bombs work! And those knives you hide in your gauntlets."
Aiden chuckled. "That seems like an unfair trade."
"Ugh, I'll show you some Wolf stuff too, I guess."
Aiden grinned. "My name's Aiden."
The Wolf's scowl melted into a small smirk. "Nam me est Lambert,"
After a few hours of exchanging linguistics, the two boys looked up to see a Wolf and Cat arguing.
"That's Fran." Aiden frowned, annoyed that his doodling was interrupted. "He's an asshole. My year calls him Ratfucker."
"That's Gweld, the exchange student. Next to him is Geralt. He was grassed twice." Lambert offered.
"I didn't know that was possible?"
"Apparently it is."
"Come on, show me what you can do, Barker!" Fran yelled at the Wolf student.
"Come over and find out, Rat Eater!"
"That's nowhere near as creative as Ratfucker," Lambert mumbled, and Aiden giggled, watching as the two trainees drew their blades and started fencing.
"Damn, your guy's pretty good." Aiden hummed.
"Our fencing instructor is decent," Lambert shrugged. "I just want to punch him in the face. Constantly."
"Vesemir?"
Lambert looked over and frowned. "Yeah, how did you know?"
"Guxart talks about him sometimes. And I like to spy on him. Apparently they traveled together on the path sometimes, before Guxart had to stay behind with the caravan to train me."
"Is it true that you don't have teachers?"
"Mhm. All of your training is done by whoever brought you to the Caravan. My brother Joël is lucky, his mentors are partners and called the Law of Surprise together, so he's got two."
"So what were you payment for?"
Aiden looked over and frowned. "Nothing. I wasn't a surprise child. Guxart adopted me from an orphanage."
Lambert sneered. "What? They can do that?"
Aiden shrugged. "Cats take every trainee they can get. I let him take me. It was better than staying there, for sure."
Fran let out a high whistle. Aiden's head shot up again. "Fuck,"
"What?"
"He just called for backup."
Aiden watched as some of the younger grassed Cats- and Kiyan, who couldn't keep his nose out of anyone's business- lept to Fran's aid against the two wolves.
"Help! Quick! I'm outnumbered!" Fran called, like the dramatic bastard he was. "The ones in the red, they challenged me to a due-ACK,"
The Cat was interrupted as the taller kid- Geralt- punched him square in the face. "You're lying!" The white-haired Wolf snarled. "You provoked us! This was a training exercise, not a fucking duel!"
"Get him!"
"What the FUCK are you idiots doing?!" An unfamiliar voice called out.
Aiden looked over to see Guxart running over with an older wolf who must've been about his age- hair long and brown, but starting to grey. "Drop your weapons!" Guxart snarled to the young Cats. "Something here stinks, Vesemir…"
Oh, that must've been the famed Vesemir, then. And he must've been highly respected, because both Gweld and Geralt looked just as nervous as the Cats were.
"Well, I know you've got nothing to do with it, Ves, because you're not an idiot." Guxart growled.
"Nope. This was all them. Someone provoked someone else, and they've all got combat training, so they all started fighting- same as always."
Aiden looked over at Lambert, who shrugged.
Aiden had woken up to yelling and commotion.
"Harness the horses! Ready the wagons! Get moving! Go, go, go!"
"Where's the infirmary cart?!"
Aiden grumbled and rolled over, ignoring the telltale rumble of horses being harnessed to the cart he was napping in. He had been quite content napping away his day off while the grassed witchers and trainees all went to the tournament with the Wolves.
"Treyse is dead!"
That made him open his eyes. He almost felt bad for the thank the golden one prayer that immediately rolled through his head upon hearing that. Almost.
He rolled out of his hammock and pulled open one of the windows to stick his head out right as other un-grassed trainees started piling inside. He looked out, and saw that they were clearly leaving- but way sooner than he was told they would, and with a lot less Cats readying the caravan for departure. Those that were either had been told to stay back to guard the kits, or were heavily injured.
Gaetan, one of the younger witchers who had been tasked with guarding the caravan, caught sight of Aiden watching the scene unfold. "Aiden! Get inside and stay inside!"
"What's going on?!" Aiden countered.
"King's soldiers started firing on us, that's what!" Jad came up beside Gaetan, his armor more purple-red than cat-school-blue. Aiden didn't need to be grassed to know that not all of that blood was his. "Most of the fucking school is dead!"
"Us and the Wolves," Axel spoke up, halfway dragging Cedric, who was too busy wincing to speak up.
"Why Treyse ever thought this was a good fucking idea is beyond me!" Gaetan groaned. "I thought I'd be pissed off that I didn't get to go. Glad for it now,"
"Doesn't matter now, he got shot down like the rest of 'em." Jad growled.
The conversation had largely moved away from Aiden's concerns, but the sinking feeling in his gut was getting bigger. "Where's Guxart?!"
"Fuck if I know, I didn't even see him at the-"
"Here!"
Aiden's chest lightened with relief as he saw his mentor gallop down the line of wagons.
"Where the fuck were you?!" Jad yelled.
"Arrested by soldiers with the Wolves' fencing instructor before the tournament even started," Guxart snapped as he dismounted. "What the fuck were you all thinking?!"
Axel bit his lip. "I'd say ask Treyse, but-"
"Attacking another Witcher School?! Are you all mad?!"
An awkward silence settled over the small group.
"I- fuck, okay, gods, right." Guxart groaned. "With Treyse dead, that leaves me as Grandmaster. Brehen and Lexandre are securing the back, and Dragonfly's up front. Axel, get Cedric to the infirmary wagon and go help the back before those idiots bleed out. Jad, go with him, get those wounds checked. Gaetan, make sure all the kits are secure. I'm going up front to get us moving."
"Yes, sir." Came the near-unanimous answer.
Gaetan turned back to Aiden. "Once more, I say: Aiden, get inside and stay inside!"
Aiden stuck his tongue out as he popped back into the wagon. He curled up into his hammock and settled to the lull of the wagon starting to rumble forward.
There was a rapid tap on his shoulder.
Schrödinger had always been secretive, nobody was even sure if they were a boy or a girl. Aiden had asked, but always got a different answer to the question, always something confusing and indecisive. Aiden didn't even know why they didn't speak; again, every time he asked there was a different story.
"Go away. I'm asleep." Aiden signed as he opened one eye, not wanting to get scolded for talking. Aiden's sign language was still a little rusty, though Schrödinger had picked it up immediately. They had gotten to know each other a few years before when Schrödinger had been insulting him for his sloppy signs. That probably should have made Aiden dislike them, but hey- he ended up having a thing for people with bitchy streaks in his later years, anyway.
"'I'm sleepy.'" Schrödinger corrected him."And, no. You are going to tell me what happened."
"What I heard, Treyse wanted to attack the dogs-"
Schrödinger backhanded Aiden in the arm. "'wolves'?" They corrected with an eye roll.
"Oh," Aiden mumbled out loud. "Yeah, attack the Wolves. And then the dh'oine attacked all of us."
"Why?"
"I didn't hear."
"Damn."
"Alright, kit."
Aiden took a cautious step forward onto the rope.
"Good."
Aiden's eyes were wide, but that didn't matter- not blindfolded.
"Next step. Just like you've done before, Aodhán. Trust your practice, trust your body."
Aiden took a steadying breath before he took the second step, coming fully off of his foothold. He had a pole to balance with, and it took a moment to find his center of gravity, but he didn't immediately fall. He squeezed his eyes shut, pretending like the blindfold wasn't there, and this was just a normal tightrope walk.
"You go that slow, you're definitely going to fall." Guxart snorted.
"But I can't see my feet!"
"That's the point. You need to be sure-footed, not sure-sighted." Guxart crossed his arms. "And you have to listen to your environment, feel it. A Cat may close his eyes, never his ears."
"How would I even close my ears? That's just stupid."
"Aiden, walk the damn rope."
Aiden didn't like thunder. He never did. In his childhood as a desert dweller, it meant one of two things: water, which meant extra work for the day to catch as much rainwater as possible to make up for the trek to the Oasis or the rainforest in the middle of Zerrikania, or dry storms that could kick up a haboob. Either way, he had never liked storms. That didn't change when he came to the Caravan.
He liked to consider himself brave and strong, especially considering that he was a witcher trainee. But it never seemed to matter when he started hearing the rolling of thunder.
Guxart had called it an 'irrational fear.' A fear of something that you know can't hurt you. Aiden had frowned. Then thunder was just one of many.
"You'll learn how to handle such fears as you get older." Guxart had smiled at him.
Today was not that day.
Today, Aiden was curled up into a ball in the corner of his wagon, shivering, trying to keep himself from whimpering when a flash of lightning was followed by a loud clap of thunder.
Someone had walked in, humming to themselves. Aiden recognized the voice and footsteps as his oldest yearmate, Joël. He looked up, and his fellow trainee seemed to be changing into dry clothes, his braid completely soaked from being out in the rain. He was half-elf too, though a better example of one. Joël's ears looked more 'half-elven,' human-sized ears with soft points rather than huge ears that looked more elven than some full-elves like Aiden had.
Another lightning strike rang out and Aiden squeaked before he could stop himself.
Joël looked up with a slight gasp. "Aodhán!" He huffed. "You scared me. Didn't see you there,"
Aiden didn't respond, keeping his face in his knees.
Joël frowned. "Are you alright?"
Aiden shook his head.
"Is it the storm?"
Aiden nodded.
Joël sighed, sitting down next to Aiden in the corner. "What scares you about it?"
Aiden whined. "It's… it's so loud," He whispered. "And so sudden. It sounds like explosions. And- and you can never tell when the sound is gonna come. Sometimes it's seconds, sometimes it's a split moment. And I'm wet, and so cold, and I can't sleep-!"
"Oh, Aodhán." Joël cooed. "Do you need anything?"
"I don't know."
"Hey, com'ere." Joël muttered, pulling Aiden into his lap. "I can keep you warm and safe, how about that?"
"… Okay," Aiden whispered softly. Joël started humming a soft lullaby, which quickly lulled Aiden to sleep, despite the snaps of thunder and the rain battering down on the wagon roof.
"He won't make it."
"Don't say that," Guxart growled.
"I'm just saying," Brehen scoffed. "You know better than to get your hopes up, Guxart. He's a weak little thing. Young, too. The runt. He's not special for being the Grandmaster's ward."
Aiden had already had a feeling they were talking about him, but that only confirmed it.
"Who do you think will make it this year, then?"
"Kiyan." Brehen answered quickly. "Schrödinger, might live, might die- can never tell with that one. Maybe-"
He kept going, but Aiden didn't bother listening anymore. He hopped down from where he had been perched listening and went back to his wagon, where he saw his friend.
He crouched down next to them, silent for a moment before speaking.
"Brehen thinks you might survive." Aiden said quietly.
Schrödinger's hands started moving. "Did he mention anyone else?"
Aiden nodded. "Kiyan. And he said maybe a few others, but I left then."
"Did he mention you?"
Aiden nodded.
"Good,"
"No," Aiden mumbled. "He said he thinks I won't make it."
Schrödinger stopped for a moment before signing again. "You will, Spark," they said. That's how they signed Aiden's name: 'Spark,' as in 'little fire.' Same way they signed Kiyan as 'Madman' sometimes.
"How are you so sure?" Aiden huffed. "He's right. I'm small and weak-"
"You are small in height because you are younger," Schrödinger argued. "You are small in muscle because you are flexible. Very agile. Like real cats."
"But-"
"No arguments," Schrödinger snapped. "Cat witchers are small witchers anyway."
"But I'm half-elf," Aiden huffed. "Elves are tall,"
"And you are half dh'oine. Dh'oine are short,"
Aiden smirked a little. "Stop disproving my points,"
"Never. You think your body is small? Your brain is small."
Aiden scoffed in mock offense. "Rude."
They sat in silence for a moment longer.
"You are afraid."
Aiden nodded. "Very."
"You will make it," Schrödinger said again, stronger.
"Worried about the Grasses?" A familiar voice said. Aiden looked up to see Gaetan sit down on a stump. Aiden bit his lip, but other kittens sitting around their wagon started mumbling in agreement. Except Schrödinger, who snapped their first two fingers and thumb shut in a resounding 'no.'
"Ah, you'll all be fine. Most of you, anyway." Gaetan smirked. "Some of you."
Aiden heard someone whine.
"You know, what happens?" He grinned. "We pump you full of lethal poisons, then we add a little bit of this, a little bit of that, and a whole lot of werecat mutagens, and your insides melt while the mutagens try and keep you alive- if they take to your body, at least- OW," Gaetan yelped as a metal flask bounced off of his head.
"Fuck off and stop scaring the kittens, Gaetan!" Lexandre snapped. "You'll only make them feel worse."
"Oh, come on, I'm telling the truth!"
"They don't need to know what actually happens until after." Lexandre put his hands on his hips and scowled. He had always been one of Aiden's favorites- he was Kiyan's mentor and guardian, same year as Brehen and Jad. Aiden had mentioned to Schrödinger that Lexandre seemed oddly calm and level-headed compared to every other Cat, especially his sadistic yearmates. 'That means he will be scarier when he finally does snap.' Schrödinger had replied. 'The ones you think are sane are the truly mad ones. He did survive the tournament, you know.'
Aiden couldn't breathe. He was trying to thrash against the leather straps, but they held him too strong- or he was too weak, and didn't notice. He vaguely felt strong hands guiding him to turn his head to the side whenever he started vomiting, and patting his back to keep him from choking on it.
"That's it, Aodhán. Easy now."
Aiden couldn't even whimper when the cool hands pulled away. He just wheezed. He was vaguely aware that he couldn't feel some of his teeth anymore. They must have fallen out when he threw up. He had wondered about that- all of the adult witchers had fangs.
"It's okay, little cat, you're okay, you're okay…"
He could smell blood along with all of the sickness. He hoped it was just from his teeth. He knew it wasn't. His insides were liquefying. That's what Gaetan had told them all.
I'm going to die… motesfam, I'm sorry, Momma… was his last thought before he finally passed out and descended into darkness.
"Aiden's not awake yet."
"I can't believe he's still fuckin' alive. Kit hacked up most of his body weight before he went under. I underestimated the little shit."
Aiden twitched. He couldn't bring himself to move.
"I'm going to check on him again," The first voice rumbled, growing closer with sharp, sharp footsteps- everything was loud, now that he noticed. Too loud. But he couldn't bring himself to wince.
A calloused but soft touch gently opened his eyelid. It was too bright.
"Yep," The too-loud voice said. "Eyes turned green like the rest of 'em."
"So he's close to waking up then?"
Aiden tried to look around.
"Nope. He's already awake," The first voice said fondly, gently massaging Aiden's temples to ease the headache he so obviously had. When Aiden found the energy to open his eyes on his own, the brightness suddenly got better- slit pupils, cat's eyes- though the sound did not.
His eyes wandered a bit before landing on the face smiling above him.
"Hey, Aodhán." Guxart hummed. "You made it,"
"Wh…ho…" Aiden tried to speak, but his mouth was dry.
"Schrödinger, Kiyan, and Joël all woke up." The Grandmaster continued as he undid the straps holding Aiden down. "You were the last. We had a good, strong year with you lot. And you all had green eyes. That's your Year Name. Green-Eyes."
Aiden whined as his head started pounding again.
"I know," Guxart huffed. "The worst part is over, kit. Now that the mutations took, you'll heal up quick. You'll be back on your feet in no time,"
Aiden shook his head and weakly covered his ears. "Too loud..!"
"Hmm," Guxart frowned, petting Aiden's curls. "Yeah, your hearing's sharper now. You'll have to get used to that. I'd give you some wax to plug your ears, but it will only make it worse when you take them out, and you can't plug them up forever."
Aiden sniffled.
"Com'on, Aodhán. Let's get you to the infirmary cart."
Aiden couldn't help but cling as hard as he could to the leather with his new sharp nails. He didn't recognize where they were- it seemed to be elven ruins filled with lab materials. Brehen was busy covering the equipment in sheets, ready for this Grasses chamber to be dormant for another few trainee groups.
"Playing favorites again, Guxart?"
Guxart scoffed, but his hand stilled in Aiden's curls. "He's still recovering from the grasses. Not my fault he woke up late." He hummed in thought. "Besides- Aiden is my kit, my ward, just because I'm Grandmaster doesn't mean the rules of mentorship don't apply to me."
Dragonfly smiled. "Yeah, fair. Probably would've done the same for Schrö' if they weren't so oddly… fine, afterwards." She sat down on the other side of Aiden's cot. "How is the little thing?"
"Healing. Slowly, but healing." Guxart answered. "He's the youngest, since we bumped him up a year-group when he got his bleed earlier than most. He's doing well for someone his age. He's only… eleven, twelve?"
"He's a strong little fuck," Dragonfly grinned.
"Um…" Aiden swallowed the nervousness. "N-not that I won't do it, but…"
Guxart chuckled. "But..?"
Aiden looked back to the tightrope swaying in the wind. "Isn't it a bit too windy for someone of my… skill and size to cross?" He had done the ten-foot training rope before, though he usually practiced on the six. But the wind that day was bending the trees, and though the thick foliage on the ground gave him a cushion from broken limbs, he still didn't want the humiliation that would come with failing to cross.
"That's because we're not going to be working on crossing," Guxart smirked. "We're going to work on falling."
Aiden blinked. "What?"
"We've taught you how to tuck and roll, how to land small falls without hurting yourself, yeah. But lessons are not always enough- it's got to be instinct." Guxart explained. "Now you're grassed, you've got new instincts and abilities. One of those is the righting reflex- or, the way a cat always lands on its feet."
Aiden blinked. "So you want me to fall off to..?"
"To help you get used to it." Guxart hummed. "Remember when you first got here? You and the younger kits, where we'd throw you in the air to help you find your balance?"
"Kitten-tossing," Aiden nodded.
"This is like that, but now you're getting used to your new body." The grandmaster explained. "And the wind makes it so that the fall is more unpredictable to the logical part of your mind, so you get used to instinct taking over, and lose the panic response when you do fall. And eventually…"
"What?"
"Eventually, you will be able to walk that rope in this weather- and survive the falls from the higher training ropes. But not today. Today, your job is to just fall into the bushes."
Aiden felt Guxart squeeze his shoulder before he scaled up the tree to the rope. He froze when he finally got to the top- the rope was swaying, and he wasn't even sure how to take the first step.
"Remember, you're not trying to cross, Aodhán. Quiet your mind, and go."
So Aiden did.
And Aiden fell.
"Try again," Guxart ordered. "Don't try to catch yourself. Just fall."
So Aiden did.
And he did so again. And again. And again. Each time he did, he started feeling his body twisting without him meaning it to- it just did.
When Guxart finally chuckled and let Aiden take a break, he was grinning with a hint of pride in his eyes.
"… What?" Aiden mumbled nervously.
"I'll be honest, kit." Guxart huffed. "I've never, ever seen a trainee pick up on their instincts so fast."
Aiden blinked as Guxart ruffled his hair.
Aiden yelped as he stumbled, missing the jump across a small crack in the forested mountainous region. He felt his ankle twist and wrist throb as he barely caught himself on the rocky cliff face.
Kiyan looked over the edge with a wicked smirk as Schrödinger made the jump with ease. "Aww, the runt fell!" He mocked.
"I'm not a runt!" Aiden snapped, eyes burning with restrained tears as he pulled himself on shaking arms up the cliff.
"Well, if you're so small, what are you then? A mouse? Last time I checked, Cats eat mice." Kiyan grinned.
"Leave him alone, Kiyan!" Joël snarled, pushing Kiyan back onto his ass as he walked to the cliff face, bending over and pulling Aiden the rest of the way up.
Aiden made it through the rest of the course without fail, but that didn't calm the rock in his gut. At dinner, he was picking at his food as he sat away from the rest of the caravan, even though he had long proven to himself that it wasn't poisoned, still nauseous from shame.
"The fuck's up with you?"
Aiden looked up to see Gaetan looking down at him, arms crossed. Now that Aiden was grassed, he knew that they really could smell emotions, and there was no point in trying to lie about his emotional state.
Aiden looked down at his meal again. He couldn't think of what to say.
"I don't like being the runt." He decided on with a whisper.
"That's it? You're upset for being picked on 'cuz you're small?"
Aiden scoffed. "Y'know, most people lie n' deny it to make the sad person feel better."
"Well, I'm not most people, and I'm not going to lie to you. You're small."
Aiden sighed.
"That don't mean it's a bad thing," Gaetan smirked. "You know, read some research papers that said when it comes to wild cats, the smaller it is, the better at hunting it is. Huge kill-rates, the little guys have."
"You can read?"
"I'm going to pretend like you didn't say that." Gaetan scoffed. "But next time someone calls you Runt, remember that it just means you're more dangerous than them,"
Gaetan left with a smirk and silent footsteps while Aiden stared at his dinner again.
"Watch it, Runt."
Aiden slipped the hidden dagger from his bracer and in a flash he was pinning Kiyan to the wall, and the older Cat actually looked startled, for once.
"You know, a little birdie told me the smaller the cat, the better kill rate its got. So if you don't want to become a statistic, quit fucking calling me that or say it with some goddamn respect," He snarled.
Kiyan's slit pupils were nearly invisible with shock, staring silently and unblinkingly at Aiden and Aiden's knife.
"Fucking got it?" Aiden snarled, pressing the sharp edge closer.
"Got it," Kiyan finally forced out. Aiden squinted at him and sliced the blade just so it would draw blood without damage, in a way that would scar but do nothing to a witcher. Kiyan didn't even wince, he just looked more startled.
Aiden wanted to be sure the mad bastard knew he wasn't fucking joking.
And… it seemed to work. Next time he fell on one of their makeshift training courses, Kiyan had caught him, pulling him up and roughly patting his shoulder.
"You alright, Runt?"
It was said… affectionately.
"Uh… yeah, thanks."
Huh. Apparently threatening people worked to make friends.
"I can hear you sneaking around,"
Aiden froze, and when he blinked, there was a small knife pointed at his eye.
"If you're not careful, someone will gouge out one of those pretty green eyes out."
Aiden swallowed thickly before the knife was pulled away and Jad and Brehen laughed wickedly. One of them pulled him out from among the crates he had been hiding behind, gripping him by the new bunch of hair that had grown low on the back of his neck, making him curl up instinctively.
"Stop scruffing kits," Dragonfly scolded as she walked by, not looking up. When she did, she rolled her eyes. "Especially not the runt, Brehen, put him down!"
Brehen dropped Aiden, and the kit landed with an 'oof!' on his haunches.
"So much for landing on his feet," Brehen smirked.
"Aiden's righting reflex is fine, he's got the best of his year! He's spooked because you scruffed him. You know it freaks the kits out!"
"He shouldn't have been sneaking around, stuffing his whiskers where they don't belong," Jad growled.
"Whiskers are used to feel out an area and sense danger. We should be encouraging the kits to hone their skills anyway. Com'ere, Aodhán."
Aiden lowered his head and followed the witcheress.
"You have got to be careful around those two," Dragonfly whispered when they got far enough away. "We're all cats, we're all mad and bloodthirsty if we lose control, but the year those two are from especially. They don't even need to be suffering from madness to hurt someone. Jad's got a silver tongue, can lure you into a false security- but he always does something for his own gain. Brehen is just nuts, ya' hear?"
Aiden bit his lip and nodded.
"Remember what I said- be careful out there…"
"'And it doesn't matter is someone is coming at you with a dick or a hand holding a weapon; either way, you cut it off.' I remember."
Dragonfly sighed before she spoke again. "I like you, Aodhán. You're a good kid- you were when we first met, and even after everything the school's done to break those morals down, you're still good. How old are you now?"
"Twelve," Aiden muttered.
"You really are on the younger side, huh?"
"I got my bleed early. You remember that. They bumped me up a year to line the Trial up with my coming-of-age." He scowled. "So, that's why I'm small. I'm not a runt!"
Dragonfly laughed. "Oh, don't worry, I didn't mean it like that, Aodhán. Besides, being small is a good thing here. Smaller target, less weight to carry- we're called Cats for a reason." she ruffled his hair. "You get back to training. And don't get caught sneaking around this time."
Aiden didn't think of himself as vain. But yet, there he was, staring at his bare body in the wagon's mirror.
He still had the hips and waist of a woman, but he was told all cats got lithe like that- most not as curvy, but it wasn't so uncommon that it was something to give a second thought to. That wasn't really what he cared about. No, it was the muscles, the shape, the body hair, the broader shoulders, the fuzz on his upper lip, the angle of his jaw…
Despite there being nothing but curls between his legs- though he was told the mutagens did help a little on that front, too- he felt like a man. Really, truly a man.
Aiden didn't remember what, exactly, caused his first madness. All he remembered was that suddenly, he was lunging at Joël's neck.
There was shouting. And there was a sharp pain in his side, then his back. Then a burning across his face. Then there were arms around him, holding him close while he thrashed against the ropes being tied around his hands. Then there was darkness and the sound of a wagon door closing and locking from the outside.
And he was throwing himself at walls, scratching at wooden panels and windows, yowling and snarling, until he passed out from exhaustion.
Aiden woke up in the infirmary wagon, with one wrist tied down. He whined, trying to sit up despite the pain. He touched his nose where it felt heavy, finding a bandage there.
"Aiden?"
Aiden blinked, looking up to see his guardian and grandmaster looking down at him sternly.
"Guxar…?" Aiden tried.
"What happened?" The older witcher asked as he kneeled down next to the cot.
"I… I don't-" He frowned. "It was madness, wasn't it?"
Guxart sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Aiden, I'm going to be honest. That was unacceptable."
Aiden's ears flattened. "W-what do you mean? I thought we couldn't control it?"
Guxart shook his head. "No. We can't, we just have to avoid triggering it. But that wasn't just madness, kit. That was full Bloodrage. Usually, kits getting their first experience with madness are easy to calm down. You separate them from whoever they're trying to kill and can restrain them for a moment, and they relax. You didn't calm down, Aiden. That can not happen again."
Aiden looked down at his hands.
"You are lucky that we were able to separate you and Joël. He had a dagger, and when you attacked him, he used it. Stabbed twice, got a good slash at your nose. He went mad, too- also had to drag him away to keep him from gutting you."
Guxart huffed, looking around to avoid seeing the kit radiating guilt and fear.
"I'm sorry," Aiden whispered.
"I know." Guxart growled. "But we're going to have to work on emotional regulation. You're usually the calmest of your year, but if that's what happens when you slip, you're going to end up with a pitchfork in your gut."
Aiden swallowed, tears burning his eyes as he remembered what Schrödinger had said. The ones you think are sane are the really mad ones.
"Here, let me check those stitches." Guxart huffed as he untied Aiden's wrist, before gently holding Aiden's face with one hand while he peeled the bandage away slowly with the other.
"Is it bad..?" Aiden whispered.
Guxart smirked. "You're grassed now, Aodhán. A pierced lung is bad. A cut is not. It will be nothing a scar in a day or two." He huffed, gently washing the stitches with a damp cloth. As he did, he caught a flash of red underneath Aiden's curls.
Furrowing his eyebrows in concern, he lifted the sweat-slicked ringlets from Aiden's neck, revealing scabs, red lines, and dried blood. Frowning, he turned Aiden's head to the other side, seeing the same thing on the opposite side of his neck.
"What's this?" He asked gruffly, tracing his pointer finger down the scratches.
Aiden winced. They were raw, but they weren't too fresh- and they stung like hell.
Guxart grabbed Aiden's hand and lifted it to his nose, opening his mouth slightly to zero in on the scents. The blood under Aiden's cat-like nails smelled like Joël's, but- no, yeah, there it was: Aiden's own blood, mixed with the scent of his hair oil.
"Alright, kiddo." The grandmaster sighed as Aiden looked up at him with anxious eyes. "Your nails grow fast and sharp now. You have to stop scratching at your neck."
"I can't,"
"What do you mean, you can't?"
"I mean it just happens, when I'm nervous." Aiden mumbled, and almost on cue lifted his hands to his neck and started dragging his already-bloodied nails over the scabs.
"Stop," Guxart scolded, gently pulling the hand away, moving the rag to start washing the cuts instead. "I'll get you a nail file- use it often. If you can't stop yourself from scratching, stop yourself from breaking skin. And if you lose so much control when you go mad, it'll help you keep from hurting someone or yourself."
"It's this year's mutagens." Dragonfly told Guxart.
"I figured," Guxart frowned. "When it first happened with Aiden- we were more focused on calming him down because he started it and got more injuries- but Joël had gotten violent, too. He just had a dagger in his hand and… looked more 'human' about it. They're yearmates."
Lexandre shook his head. "Kiyan has gotten into the habit of biting people. Mad little shit,"
Cedric hummed. "And Schrödinger…"
"… Is Schrödinger." Came the near-unanimous mumbled response.
"Well, between the green eyes and overdone madness, and four of the group surviving, I think this group is either going to be interesting, or doom the school." Axel huffed. "I mean, has anyone gone that nuts that young since Gezras fucked over Stygga? Lil' flame didn't go mad, he went feral."
"They're kids," Lexandre frowned.
"So was Gezras." Guxart huffed. "But Lex has a point. It's too early to really tell, and besides- Gez' had every reason to be a little off-his-rocker, considering we were all being cut open by mages and studied with no care if it was an autopsy or a vivisection. I don't know about you crazy fucks, but I'm not slicing open kits any time soon."
"I think Aiden will be fine," Dragonfly hummed, eating her portion of venison. "Joël's madness is some cold, calculated kind of crazy. Like Karadin-crazy,"
Jad snorted.
"Kiyan has a biting habit, and Schrödinger came to the caravan odd already. Aiden lost his fucking shit last week, yes, but overall he's the most controlled of all of them."
"Why he hangs out with Schrödinger is a fucking mystery." Gaetan shook his head.
Aiden elbowed Schrödinger in the side from their shared hiding spot with a smirk.
Schrödinger signed back at him. One hand presenting their middle finger, the other forming a loop with their pointer and thumb then promptly sticking the former into the latter. 'Fuck you, asshole,' with some extra vulgarity.
Aiden withheld a snicker.
"It's not my fault that I take the fall for all of your misbehavior and you never take the fall for mine!" They continued.
Aiden smiled and signed back. "Because I am good at getting away with it and you are not."
"You are too sneaky."
"I am the perfect amount of sneaky!"
"Yeah, you're as sneaky as a street-whore in Novigrad."
Aiden snorted quietly before he could stop himself. Gaetan, who was right below them, looked up. Aiden and Schrödinger froze, four green eyes meeting Gaetan's amber ones.
The witcher just smirked and winked at them, before jerking his head to tell them to get lost. The two kits grinned and hopped away through the trees.
"I'm sorry. About what happened, I mean." Aiden mumbled.
Joël looked up from his book and looked to his side where Aiden was curled up against him as the storm raged outside.
"Why? I'm the one that drew blood." Joël shrugged.
"I started it. I went mad. Tried to kill you."
"And I stabbed you a few times for it. Makes it even, I think."
"I still feel bad."
"Feel bad? I slashed my little brother across the face and literally stabbed him in the back. I feel terrible. You scratched me a little, at most."
Aiden hummed and put his head back to his knees.
"Okay." He mumbled. "No hard feelings?"
"There never were any."
"Um… Guxart?"
The Grandmaster hummed, but didn't look back at the kit. "What's bothering you, Aodhán?"
"Well, um…" Aiden rubbed his face. "Explain to me how mutations affect a woman's body again?"
"Irregular or stopped bleeds, genital growth, body hair, and more masculine muscle and bone structure as you age." Guxart recited.
"And… when you say body hair…"
"Everywhere. Why?"
Aiden bit his lip. "And, uh… how would I deal with… that?"
Guxart finally looked over his shoulder to meet Aiden's wide green-eyed stare.
"You growing a beard, kit?"
Aiden rubbed his upper lip again. "… Yeah."
Guxart smiled. "I noticed, was waiting for you to bring it up." He chuckled, turning around fully, taking his kit's face in his hands. "Yep. Look at that. You're growing up, boy."
Aiden couldn't help but smile.
"Come back in a few years, kit." The older cat hummed. "Once it's a little fuller, or if it starts to bother you, I'll help ya' style it. How about that?"
Aiden hated the cold. He fucking hated it!
The desert was cold at night, sure. But he had either had many, many woven blankets in a bed that he shared with his mother, and sometimes if she worked late and brought him with her, the older, calmer dragons in the temples would let him snuggle up close to their warm scales. There were no dragons at Dyn Marv, and not as many blankets to go around. There were no hearths in wooden wagons. Frankly, Aiden thought that was bullshit.
So sometimes, he and Joël still cuddled up in the corner together on rough nights, but it had evolved from 'thunderstorm comfort' to 'it's cold outside and I'm cold and my bother is warm and this is bullshit.'
In fact, it seemed like he was not alone in that opinion, as he soon found himself not just held by Joël, but piled on top of by Schrödinger and Kiyan as well, because apparently the hammocks and ragged were too thin for them, too.
One night as they huddled in the corner, the wagon door opened and someone had gasped.
"Holy shit. Guxart, come look at this."
"Fuck, what?"
"Shh… don't wake them!"
"Holy fuck."
"I know, right? They're like literal kittens!"
"Nice job, Aodhán!" Joël called up.
"Didn't think the runt had it in 'im!" Kiyan scoffed loudly.
"Very flippy, Spark. Very flippy." Schrödinger agreed.
Aiden tried not to smirk as he cartwheeled across the tightrope- don't get cocky, he reminded himself. This fall could kill you if you're not careful.
Kiyan whistled. "Spin it! Spin it!" He demanded with a feral light in his green cat-eyes.
Aiden grinned, hooking a knee around the rope and tipping downwards, hanging over the deadly drop for a second before using his core to swing himself back upright.
"AIDEN OF ZERRIKANIA!!"
Aiden froze. Joël and Kiyan whooped quietly and Schrödinger signed a particularly long "Ooooops!"
Aiden stood up as his mentor stomped up to the rope.
"Aiden. Get. Down."
Aiden swallowed, but quickly made his way to the end of the rope and climbed down to the ground, where the rest of his year had backed away, reigning in smirks and giggles. Traitors.
"Guxart," Aiden said as strongly as he could, though he couldn't meet his guardian's eyes.
"What the hell were you thinking?!" Guxart flicked Aiden in one of his pointed ears, making Aiden let out an undignified 'ACK-' as he lifted his hand instinctively to cover it. "You are fourteen! Your year is not allowed on the final rope! You could have died, Aiden!"
"But I didn't!" Aiden scoffed, crossing his arms. "I can walk any other rope!"
"Did your mutagens fuck your ears?!" Guxart scolded. "You could have died. It doesn't matter if you did or not. We could have lost you, a perfectly capable adept, to boasting because you're worried your yearmates think you're not going to survive to the Path."
Aiden froze again. "I-"
He looked back at his yearmates. Kiyan shrugged, Joël's smile looked more like a grimace, and Schrödinger just said "I think you'll make it."
"Come on, Aiden." The Grandmaster grumbled, taking a firm hand on Aiden's shoulder and leading him away. When they reached Guxart's wagon, Aiden was sat on the stool while the old Cat paced in silence.
"I'm sorry," Aiden mumbled.
"Don't touch the final rope until I tell you to," Guxart repeated. "Joël is the only one that's been on it because he's the oldest of your year, and he's only been on it once, and had Cedric and Axel supervising him."
"I said I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter what you said," Guxart stopped pacing and leaned over to get on Aiden's eye level. He lifted his hand and poked Aiden's forehead with each word. "You. Could. Have. Died."
"But-"
"Actually died, Aiden! Not a practice sword at your neck! Not being put on your back in hand-to-hand training! Actually died!" Guxart snapped. "Do not make me burn my little boy's body, Aodhán!"
Aiden looked at his feet.
'My little boy.'
"Sorry," he mumbled again. He didn't know what else to say.
Guxart stood back up with a sigh, rubbing his face. "Go get something to eat. Tell Lex' I sent you early."
Aiden nodded, standing up and walking out of the wagon silently. As he walked up the line of wagons to find the rations cart, he was quickly caught up to.
"What happened? Are you grounded?" Kiyan started interrogating.
"Grounded from the final rope, yeah," Aiden grumbled.
"Aww, that's no fun."
"If you want to try, be my guest," Aiden snapped.
"Not my fault you're a runt,"
"Not my fault you're a whoreson!"
"Guys," Joël sighed.
"Gonna' end up dead in a ditch somewhere," Aiden snarled at the older trainee.
"No way." Kiyan crossed his arms. "If I'm going to die, which I'm not, I'm going to die with style. Like- something cool. Possession, or something."
"Whatever. You're mad."
"Says you! You got bloodrage first! You attacked Joël! Come on, Joël, tell 'im."
"You're both brats," Joël growled, dragging both Aiden and Kiyan by the ears towards the rations cart.
"DAMN THEIVING MUTANT BRATS!"
Aiden cackled as he dove and dodged around bodies, following close behind Schrödinger, with Joël and Kiyan behind him. The clinking of his coin pouch only made his adrenaline spike more.
"Split up!" Kiyan yelled, and the four youths did just that. Aiden dove to the right, disappearing into a dirty alleyway, jumping straight over a homeless beggar as he did so. He threw one of his ill-gotten coins behind him for the man to catch before he caught sight of a wall covered in windows and shoddily-laid bricks. Perfect for climbing.
Aiden grunted softly as he jumped up to a handhold, lunging up and up until he managed to get onto the roof. He took a moment to catch his breath as he looked out over the Novigrad skyline. He spotted Kiyan a few blocks away, who waved at him high over his head. Aiden weakly waved back as he wheezed. Maybe wrapping his breasts in bandages was a bad idea, he considered as he tugged at his binding.
Kiyan crossed the skyline quickly, hopping from roof to roof towards Aiden. "You alright, Runt? Surely you're not winded from one wall."
Aiden shook his head. "B-bandages," he panted.
"Ya' hurt?"
Aiden leveled a glare. "I have tits, you Mad Moggie."
"Oh, come on. That shirt is plenty loose. You didn't have to bind it."
"Fuck you."
Joël and Schrödinger caught up soon after, leaving the four to giggle and return to the caravan, into their shared wagon.
"So what did you guys get?" Kiyan grinned as he shut the door behind him.
"Besides coin, you mean?" Joël raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, please, there's plenty of jewelry and stuff that I nabbed," Aiden hummed, putting a bunch of gold and silver chains and bands in a pile in front of himself.
"Well you probably target jewelry," Kiyan scoffed.
"I don't, contrary to what you may think," Aiden huffed. "My affinity for gold adornments doesn't mean I seek it out. They would just get broken or stolen again!"
"Woah, long fancy words, Spark. Did you find a thesaurus?"
"Shut up, Schrödinger." Aiden crossed his arms, glaring. "Anyway, what did you get, Kiyan? Since you were so eager to share, you had to nab something good."
Kiyan grinned, eyes twinkling with madness deserving of his nickname. He pulled out a small pouch from his satchel that had a very distinct smell to the grassed trainees.
"Kiyan, you didn't." Joël rasped.
"I did," The mad cat grinned.
"Fisstech?" Aiden stared with wide eyes. "How did you..?"
"Pickpocket anyone who looks a little off-the-rocker and you'll get some eventually."
"Have you gotten any before?"
"Well… no, but it worked this time!"
"Oh my gods," Joël groaned.
"If Guxart finds out, he'll be livid!" Schrödinger signed with raised eyebrows. "Spark is already in trouble for being on the final rope without permission!"
"Well, then we don't tell him." Joël mumbled.
"But he's grassed. He might smell it on us!"
"Schrödinger, you're the misbehaving one."
"Oh, I want the drugs. I just don't want a switch to the hand, dimwit. Don't feel like losing my only method of communication to your dumbasses."
"Hey now," Kiyan smiled. "We're witchers! Grasses were two n' a half years ago now! Everyone knows drugs and poisons can't do shit to us, not really."
"Yeah, so if we want an actual high, we'll have to use the whole bag…" Joël grumbled.
"I'm tired of waiting!" Aiden snapped. "Give me the pouch,"
"Ooooh, Runt wants to party!"
"Give it here, Kiyan!"
"You don't even know how to do it," Joël grabbed the bag instead. "I've seen Cedric use it when he thinks I'm not watching."
"Okay, wise one. Show us how it's done, then."
"Easy. Rub it on your gums." Joël huffed as he untied it. "A lot of Cats use it to calm down. Enough for a buzz, but not a complete high. Keeps em' out of madness."
He dipped his finger in the powder and did so, rubbing it in above his fangs. He was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I don't feel much."
"Then use more." Kiyan said, doing it himself.
Aiden looked over to see Schrödinger do so as well, pulling down their mask to reveal a horribly scarred lower face. He tried not to stare as his best friend pulled their burned lip up to apply the drug.
Aiden finally also dipped into the powder, sniffing at his finger before rubbing it into his gums. He did it a few more times when he didn't feel anything immediately.
A half-hour later, Aiden was vomiting into a bucket. Schrödinger felt nothing, while Joël and Kiyan's pupils were blown so wide they didn't even look like Green-Eyes.
"I…" Aiden was interrupted as he retched again, head spinning. "I think we should stick to catnip,"
Schrödinger nodded, while Joël just made an odd affirmative sound as he stared at the ceiling. Kiyan didn't even try to speak- he just kept purring.
"What in all the gods' names do you brats think you're doing?"
Aiden blinked up groggily to see a blurry form in the doorway of the wagon.
"Drugs," Joël said dumbly.
"Give me that," Guxart growled, snatching the near-empty pouch from the ground by Kiyan's feet. He waved his arms around for a moment, gesturing as he tried to find words.
"No!" he finally settled on, exasperated, as he walked out of the wagon and slammed the door behind him.
None of them ever mentioned it again until well after they had gotten their medallions.
"Hey," Aiden said as he knocked on the doorframe of the wagon.
"Aodhán," Guxart responded, finishing looking over a few documents before turning around. "What's on your mind?"
"Well… when I was fourteen, you said that when my beard was fuller or bothersome that you'd help me." Aiden hummed. "And, uh… it's scratchy. I'm not liking it."
"Scratchy where?"
"Jaw," Aiden ran his hands over his jawline to show. "It's scratching my neck, and then my neck gets itchy."
"Do you want it all off?"
"No!" Aiden snapped before he could stop himself. "No, no, I- I like that I look more, um… masculine. With it."
"I've got an idea. Sit down, kit."
Aiden scratched at his neck nervously- one side, than the other- scratching with dull nails over fading scars. He walked inside the wagon and sat on the stool, gripping his knees. He knew what shaving entailed- a knife at his neck.
"I can hear your heart," Guxart said. "Here,"
The Grandmaster grabbed a small mirror and propped it up on a stack of books on his desk.
"You can watch me." He explained. "Then, next time, you'll know how to do it yourself."
"… Okay."
So Aiden stared, green eyes unblinking, as Guxart lathered shaving foam onto his jaw, taking a small knife and beginning to scrape it away, humming as he worked. Aiden wondered if that was a natural reaction of focus, or if he was actively trying to keep Aiden calm.
"There," Guxart said finally, wiping Aiden's face with a towel. "How's that?"
Aiden lifted a hand to his jaw as he looked in the mirror. A stranger's face stared back at him, but not in a bad way. He looked in the mirror and saw a man.
"Perfect. Thanks," He said monotonously, though the twinkle in Guxart's eyes told Aiden that he wasn't hiding his relief well.
"I'm fucking sixteen. Why are we still doing this? I talk fine!"
"Practice is important, Aodhán."
"I practice every fucking day, I have no choice when Kiyan never shuts the fuck up!"
"And Kiyan is still taking lessons in Elder with Lex, same as Joël and Schrödinger and their mentors."
"Me a'baeth aep arse!"
"Aiden."
Should he have been on the rope without his official mentor? Well, he was allowed, but probably not. Was it a good idea that Jad was the one supervising him? Absolutely not. He was allowed on the rope now, technically, but something about it still felt off.
But this was fine. Absolutely fine. Schrödinger was watching him. Joël was watching him. And Jad.
"Actually died, Aiden! Not a practice sword at your neck! Not being put on your back in hand-to-hand training! Actually died!"
Aiden swallowed hard as he stepped onto the rope. He tried to push the memories out of his mind- of Guxart's words, his mix of worry and anger. Now that he finally was allowed on the final rope, that day still rang fresh in his mind.
Clear your head. Clear your mind. You're skilled, you know what you're doing, and-
Trying to calm himself down did nothing. It only distracted him- so that when he misstepped, instead of effortlessly fixing the mistake as he usually would have done, he stumbled and tipped to the side.
And then Aiden was falling. He had fallen before- he had been trained to fall. But not this far. Righting reflex and impact rolls could only do so much.
This was the final rope. It was made to kill.
He was going to die.
"QUEN!" He screeched as his brain caught up, watching a weak orb of light surround him. It wasn't going to be enough- not when he was still learning his signs, he still had to say them out loud to cast them, for fucks sake. His elven blood was good for nothing in that regard, unlike Joël, who had immediately excelled.
As of which, the oldest green-eye stepped forward on instinct and crossed his arms, casting heliotrop and forming an invisible barrier between Aiden and the ground. Odd, considering that was the job of the adult supervising you- Aiden didn't see Jad moving to do the same.
Time seemed to speed up, and suddenly, Aiden felt his spell shatter against Joël's, the wind knocked out of his lungs as pain burst through his body. After that, there was nothing.
Aiden stirred slightly, feeling numb.
"Aiden! Aiden!! Aodhán, come on, talk to me!"
"Fuck, hey, heyheyhey, Aiden, Aiden!"
Aiden yelped as he felt a jolt of pain down one of his legs.
"Thank the gods, his spine isn't broken… Schrödinger, go get help!"
"Aiden… Aiden, open your eyes, please, talk to me!"
Aiden whimpered, feeling two strong hands grip his arms and shake him gently.
"J-oël..?"
"Yeah, it's me. It's me. Fuck." The other trainee wheezed. "Aiden, you're okay, you're going to be okay."
Aiden coughed weakly, which sent agony through his body, radiating from his lower back. He cried out, writhing weakly.
"No, no, stay still, please, godsdamnit." Joël scolded. "I can't Somne you because you might have a concussion. Shit… fuck!"
Aiden felt hands on his face, on his neck, on his joints, checking for damage. He wanted to say something, but all he could do was tremble violently.
"Aiden!"
Joël moved over and suddenly Guxart was at Aiden's side, Schrödinger behind him, checking how strong his pulse was, how shallow his breathing.
"What happened?" He demanded sternly as he looked over at Joël.
"He- he was practicing on the rope, and he misstepped, I don't know, he casted Quen and I did Heliotrop to break his fall, but he still got hurt, and I don't know-" The oldest trainee was panicking, which was an uncommon look on him. Joël never freaked out- if Aiden had been a little more aware, he probably would've started panicking just because of that.
Guxart looked up and leveled a stare at Jad. "Meet me in my wagon. Go. Now."
Aiden didn't catch Jad's response or reaction, his vision getting dizzy again.
"Shit, stay with me. Aodhán." Guxart growled.
The grandmaster moved to lift Aiden into his arms, but the movement of his body made the young cat scream in pain.
"Fuck," Guxart swore. "Joël, Schrödinger, go to the infirmary cart. Find a stretcher and Milk of the Poppy. Go! Now!"
Aiden winced and closed his eyes.
"Dad…" he whimpered. It hurt to speak. "Dad, please…"
Guxart froze, but not for long.
"I'm right here, Aodhán. Right here. I've got you."
Aiden fell into darkness again.
When Aiden awoke next, his body was achy but overall numb, and his mind was blank with bliss.
"Hey, Aodhán, can you wiggle your fingers for me?"
It took effort, but Aiden did so.
A soft kiss was pressed to his forehead, and Aiden could smell the warm, comforting scent of his Grandmaster. "Good, kit. Go back to sleep. Rest up. You'll be back on your feet in no time."
Aiden made a weak, questioning sound.
"Milk of the Poppy." Guxart huffed. "You were hurting bad, even unconscious. Get some rest, now. You can ask questions later."
Aiden stirred a few more times, much to the same effect, before he opened his eyes one day and was actually aware of his body and pain. He grunted before he tried to sit up, only for sharp pain to fire up his back and down his legs, causing him to cry out and give up on being upright.
The wagon door opened briefly before it shut again.
"The runt's alive!" He heard Gaetan yell from outside. Not much happened for a while after that, but in a few minutes the door to the infirmary cart opened again and Joël was suddenly standing by Aiden's cot, staring blankly.
Aiden frowned. "Are you just going to keep staring at me, or..?"
"No, I just…" Joël puffed out a humorless laugh. "You're okay."
"Remains to be seen," Aiden winced. "Fuck, I feel like I've been trampled by at least ten Chorts."
"You look it, too." Joël mumbled.
"You saved my sorry ass," Aiden grumbled. "Just… thank you, for that."
"Wouldn't've done shit if you didn't cast Quen."
"Joël, seriously, I could've died. Thanks for… not letting me."
"I…" The older Cat frowned. "Of course."
The door opened again, strong footsteps stomping inside of the cart.
"Aodhán?!"
Aiden looked over and his ears perked up. "Guxart!"
"Fucking hells," Guxart growled as he came up to the bedside. Aiden tried to sit up again, weakly and slowly, clenching his jaw to withhold a whimper. The Grandmaster put a strong hand behind Aiden to support his back. "Be careful. Don't hurt yourself any more."
"Fuck… what happened to me?"
"Cracked skull, concussion, but no lasting brain damage. Heavy bruising and some tissue damage in your lower back. There was a small fracture in your spine, but not deep. We're pretty sure it compressed a nerve, that's what's causing the remaining pain. You just need rest. You'll be back on your feet right quick, Kit, don't worry."
After some time recovering, with Guxart and Dragonfly helping him stretch out his legs and back where his nerve still ached, Aiden was finally walking again.
But fuck, it hurt.
Guxart had weaned him off of the Poppy, but Aiden still couldn't sleep. Occasionally, when Guxart didn't have anything but books and documents to work on, he would sit next to Aiden and pet his hair, but it didn't help. It didn't. Aiden was exhausted, and when he was finally put back in the wagon hammock, it only got worse without the proper support for his back. He ended up crying at night instead of sleeping, most of the time.
One night, he was trembling, so fucking tired he could barely process anything around him, feeling so numb that the ache was dull again- but not enough to let him sleep. He didn't even fight when two arms lifted him out of the hammock and put him down on his front in what seemed to be… a nest? It was in the far corner of the wagon, soft blankets and furs and fluffy pillows. One of the pillows was situated under his belly, lifting his waist up a bit and taking pressure off of his aching spine.
Then there was a warm weight on him- then it started vibrating, right on his injury, and it…
… It felt nice, actually.
Aiden, for the first time in a while, fell asleep.
When he woke up, he was shocked to look over his shoulder and see Kiyan laid across his back, purring the same rough, low way they all did when trying to heal themselves. Aiden made a soft questioning noise, and the older cat's green eyes opened groggily.
"Oh. Hey, Runt." Kiyan rubbed his eyes as he sat up.
"Wha..?"
Kiyan scowled and crossed his arms, avoiding eye contact. "Just- tired of hearing you cry at night, is all." He said a little too quickly and a little too defensively.
Then he sighed.
"… I… didn't like it. Stole some bedding from the adults and tried to make something better for ya'."
Aiden tried to thank him, but his voice was too weak and raspy.
"I, um… am late, I think," Kiyan mumbled when he noticed Schrödinger's and Joël's hammocks were empty. "Just… stay here. I guess. Stay warm. Or whatever."
Aiden smiled softly as his brother left, closing the door uncharacteristically soft behind him.
That night, Kiyan did it again, even letting himself knead Aiden's lower back like his instincts told him, and Aiden couldn't help but moan a little in relief when one deep press took a bit of pressure off of his nerve.
"Better?"
"Fuck, yes." Aiden groaned. "Thank you, Kiyan."
Joël shook his head. "Nah, that's just evil, plain and simple. Nothing good comes from shit like that,"
"There is no good. No evil. Only pain, suffering, and a whole lot of booze." Kiyan counted off on his fingers.
"You're such a weirdo," Aiden groaned, throwing an apple core at Kiyan's head.
"You'll be back on your feet right quick, Kit, don't worry."
Luckily, Guxart had been right.
Unluckily, Guxart had been right.
So there Aiden was, back no longer stabbing but still achy, even after a few years, having a blindfold tied over his eyes.
Joël and Kiyan had made it across just fine, ginning and patting eachother's backs as silver cats' heads hung around their necks. Schrödinger was on the rope now, but their scent was calm and their breathing was even. They would make it.
But Aiden? Aiden had fallen from this rope. There was nobody to catch him this time.
He was the runt.
He was last in line.
"I apologize for affecting your confidence so much back then." Guxart said. "I didn't mean to freak you out, or make you feel like you weren't skilled enough."
The old Cat smiled. "You can cross the final rope, Aiden. I know you can. You could when you were 14, you can now."
Aiden took a breath as he heard his brothers congratulate Schrödinger for making it across. He perked up his ears, stepping forward with one foot, making sure it was firmly on the rope, lined up with his center of gravity.
Don't slow down, or you'll fall. Don't hesitate. He reminded himself.
Don't.
Fucking.
Hesitate.
He started walking.
"Didn't think the runt had it in 'im!"
Aiden froze.
Any other moment, he would've punched Kiyan in the nose for saying that at a time like this. Except, that was what he had said the day Aiden had gotten caught practicing on this rope.
Right after that, he had done a cartwheel.
So, Aiden learned forward, grasped the rope in his hands, and threw his legs over his head, landing solidly on the other side as he hauled his torso upright again, sticking his arms out to make sure he had the balance.
Kiyan cheered so loud it was almost a scream.
Aiden smiled, quickly stepping the rest of the way until his foot landed on a solid roof. He only got a few more steps in before a heavy weight slammed into him, sending him down with an oof!
"Holy fucking shit, Runt, you did it!" Kiyan was cackling as Aiden pulled off the blindfold.
"Says you, you fucking insulted me!"
"Because I could hear you overthinking, and it fucking worked!"
"Get off of me, you Mad fuck."
Joël scoffed as he lightly shoved Kiyan off of Aiden with his boot, hauling Aiden to his feet. "You two need soap in your mouths instead of dinner tonight," He huffed.
"I told you you'd make it," Schrödinger signed.
Guxart came forward, slipping the medallion over Aiden's curls. "While I didn't think the cartwheel was necessary," He rumbled. "I'm proud to say that you, Aiden of Zerrikania, now Aiden of the Cats, are worthy to set out on the Path of the Witcher."
His yearmates whooped, shaking Aiden by the shoulders as the Grandmaster turned to the spectating Cats.
"The Year of Green-Eyes are now fully Witchers of the School of the Cat."
"I've got a gift for you,"
Aiden turned to see Dragonfly walking towards him. "… Really?"
The woman smiled and held out her hand, revealing a matching dagger to the one she had given him when he was ten.
"I noticed that you wear the one I gave you on the back of your belt, even though that's not the best place to store this kind of knife. I remember Guxart mentioned you've got a weird thing with symmetry and numbers. Counting Sickness, he called it? But I figured that you could have one on each side, where they're supposed to be stored, and it'll match.
Aiden took it and opened and closed his mouth a few times. "Fucking damn it, Fly, you're gonna' make me cry!" He groaned as he hugged his sister.
Ten years on the path went by surprisingly fast for Aiden. It wasn't a comfortable lifestyle, no, but it was kind of fun. Between contracts, it was all sex, booze, and adventure- though Guxart groaned every time Aiden talked about the former.
Winter was fun, too. There wasn't any sex to be had, but plenty of alcohol and stories of hunts over the year.
"What about you, Runt?" Kiyan asks when he finishes a thrilling tale about a nobleman who's whole head he cut off as a trophy. "Get any good hunts this year?"
Aiden grinned. "Oh boy, did I," he smirks as he leaned in closer to the campfire, and some of the ungrassed kits did so as well, excitement in their un-slit eyes.
Aiden shows his teeth with a smug smile. "So I had this contract in Ellander, on an Ogre…"