The courtyard of Kaer Morhen was busy, the Witchers themselves understood what this day meant for a new Witcher. Horses stood saddled and restless, their breath misting in the cold air. Steel, leather, and silence… the usual scenes of departures.
Eskel was the first to speak, tightening the strap on one of the saddles before glancing back at the others.
"All set. Unless one of you plans on dying before reaching the gate."
"Tempting," Lambert muttered, rolling his shoulders as he checked his gear. "Would save me the trouble of listening to Geralt the next time we are here."
Geralt of Rivia didn't even look at him. "You'd miss it."
Lambert smirked. "Not for a second."
Nearby, Vesemir stood with his usual calm, arms folded, watching everything… and everyone. His gaze lingered longer than usual on the two younger figures standing side by side.
Sebastian adjusted the strap of his silver sword, expression calm, composed but there was a sharpness in his eyes now, something honed over years. Beside him, Ciri shifted her weight slightly, her posture relaxed but her fingers tapping faintly against her thigh, her energy barely contained from excitement or anxiety.
Eskel straightened and looked at Seb with annoyance. "We were meant to prep the horses together Seb."
Seb scratched the back of his head, "Yeah… about that. I think yesterday's vodka worked terribly on me."
Eskel snorted. "I was drunk enough to forget my own name, and still woke up and got it done."
"Cut him some slack," Lambert said, surprising everyone enough that both Seb and Ciri turned to look at him. "Big day and all."
They all stared at Lambert.
Lambert frowned. "What?"
Seb narrowed his eyes slightly. "You're being… supportive."
Ciri tilted her head. "Should we be worried?"
Lambert scoffed. "Say another word and I take it back."
A faint chuckle escaped Vesemir before he stepped forward, reclaiming the moment.
"Alright enough... We all know where we're headed."
He turned slightly, addressing them as a whole.
"I'll ride with Seb for a time. We'll head toward Ard Carraigh, show him the road, make sure he doesn't get himself killed before he even starts." His eyes flicked to Seb, not entirely joking. "Then I return to Kaer Morhen."
Geralt nodded. "Ciri and I will go south. Temeria first. If there are answers to be found… they'll be there, I know some people."
"Temeria," Eskel muttered, shaking his head. "I have no idea why you like that place... Land of drowners, broken promises, and people who'd rather stab you than pay you what you are due."
Lambert folded his arms. "He's got a point you know?"
Geralt gave a faint shrug. "Still work."
Eskel swung himself onto his horse. "I'll head north. Kovir's cold, but at least the coin's honest."
Lambert stretched. "Redania first for me. Got some business to do… and by business, I mean trouble."
His gaze slid to Seb again.
"What about you?" he asked. "Where's the grand plan?"
Seb shrugged lightly, as if it truly didn't weigh on him. "No plan for me. I'll see where the Path takes me."
Lambert blinked, then laughed. "You know we call it the Path, not 'wander aimlessly until something tries to eat you,' right? We usually have a destination."
"I know," Seb replied dryly. "I'm not an idiot."
"Just making sure."
Lambert stepped forward and pulled him into a brief, firm embrace, unexpected, but not unwelcome.
"Good luck out there," he muttered. "Try not to outdo Geralt too much. His ego's fragile."
Seb huffed a quiet laugh. "I'll keep it in mind."
Lambert then turned to Ciri, pulling her into a quick hug as well. "And you… try not to die of boredom riding with the White Wolf."
Ciri smirked. "No promises."
Eskel followed, offering quieter farewells, firm grips, nods, and then both Witcher left.
And then… the mood shifted.
Geralt moved first, mounting his horse Roach with practiced ease. He looked down at Ciri.
"Time for us to go too."
She didn't move.
For a moment, she just stood there, staring at the ground in silence.
Then suddenly, she turned, and stepped straight into Vesemir, wrapping her arms around him tightly.
"Thank you… Uncle Vesemir."
The old witcher stiffened for a second before his hand came to rest against her back, firm and steady.
"This isn't goodbye, child," he said quietly. "Go. Find what you're looking for. Do what you must." His voice softened just slightly. "And come back in winter, after all, this is your home."
Ciri pulled back, eyes glistening, but smiling. "I know."
Then she turned.
Seb was already looking at her.
"What?" he asked.
She didn't answer, she just stepped forward, and then she was in his arms, pulling him down into a kiss that left no room for doubt. Her hands cupped his face, his hand settled at the back of her head, the other at her waist, grounding her as much as holding her.
Behind them, Geralt and Vesemir exchanged a glance.
Vesemir shook his head slightly while smiling.
When they finally broke apart, Ciri rested her forehead briefly against his.
"Try not to die out there."
Seb huffed softly. "Look who's talking."
Her expression softened, serious now. "No matter what happens… I'll be fine."
"I know."
"Promise me you'll be too."
He held her gaze. "Of course."
They lingered for just a moment longer… then let go.
Ciri turned, mounting her horse, though her grip on the reins tightened just a little more than usual.
Seb met Geralt's eyes.
A nod. That he returned.
No words needed.
Geralt turned his horse first, the path ahead already clear in his mind. Ciri followed, but not before looking back, once, twice raising a hand in a small wave.
Seb lifted his own in return.
Vesemir stood beside him, silent.
They watched until the figures grew smaller, until the sound of hooves faded into the mountain road away from the keep.
Only then did Seb lower his hand.
For a while after the others disappeared down the mountain path, neither of them moved.
Vesemir exhaled through his nose, his eyes lingered on the empty gate a moment longer before he finally turned away, without a word, he stepped toward his horse and mounted the leather creaked softly beneath him.
Sebastian followed soon after.
He moved with the same ease, though there was a subtle pause before he swung himself into the saddle just a second longer than usual, as if something invisible held him there before letting go. When he settled, his posture was straight, composed… but his gaze drifted once more toward the path Ciri had taken.
Vesemir watched him from the corner of his eye for a moment before speaking.
"How do you feel?"
The question wasn't casual, the kind that came from years, from loss, from watching boys leave and knowing not all would return.
Seb let out a quiet breath, fingers tightening briefly around the reins before relaxing again.
"It's… hard to say."
He shifted slightly in the saddle, eyes lowering as he searched for the words, something rare for him.
"I've been here for so long that stepping beyond it feels… unreal." A faint, almost self-aware smile touched his lips. "I am excited, of course. I've been waiting for this for years."
His gaze lifted toward the distant mountains.
"But there's something else."
Vesemir said nothing, letting him continue.
Seb's voice softened,
"It's not fear. Not for myself." He shook his head slightly. "I know what I am capable of. I trust that. But…" His grip on the reins tightened again, more subtly this time. "I care about them. About all of you. About her."
His eyes flicked briefly in the direction Ciri had gone, then away again.
"And that leaves this… emptiness in me. Like something important has been left behind, even though we are the ones choosing to go."
He exhaled slowly.
"Maybe it is fear. Just not the kind I expected."
Vesemir nodded once.
"Good."
Seb glanced at him, confusion written all over his expression.
The old witcher's lips curved faintly,
"Now you understand what I feel every year."
Seb held his gaze for a moment.
And in that moment, he understood. Of what it meant to stay. To watch others leave. To wonder who would come back, and who wouldn't.
Sebastian didn't reply.
Vesemir looked ahead, toward the winding path that would take them away from Kaer Morhen.
"Come on."
He nudged his horse forward, the animal stepping into motion with a quiet snort.
"We've got a long road ahead. If we keep a good pace, we should reach Ard Carraigh in two days."
Seb adjusted his grip on the reins, then followed, his horse falling into step beside Vesemir's.
Neither of them looked back, the keep stood behind them, watching Witchers leave, as it always did.
/-\
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