The Witcher: Elder Blood

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***

Early in the morning, swinging the training blades with Vesemir, we were doing our warm up. It was starting to become a habit of mine: doing a training session with the witches in the morning, though not in as intense a manner as they did.

My dark hair was soaked with sweat, as was my T-shirt, the one I'd travelled to this world in. My trousers had already acquired a few holes in them during this time, definitely going to need to find new clothes.

Our sparring was probably just a warm-up for me, because I couldn't fight back against an experienced witch, and not even an inexperienced one, so Vesemir had to hold back, not to beat me in a matter of seconds, but to give me the opportunity to develop, thanks to the repetition of the techniques I'd learnt earlier.

We were about the same height, around 185 centimetres, with more difference in build, and we sparred with blunted identical one and a half blades.

The sound of steel clashing had been going on all morning, as the other witches were also warming up. Not all of them sparred, many of them practised with witch simulators. To be more precise, the younger generation, which now includes me, but without being able to create a new witch. A kind of billet under the witch, in the future has a chance to become a wizard.

The teacher from Vesemir was surprisingly good, I think it's a consequence of the constant teaching of the younger generation. During one of our conversations, he told me about his experience in educating future witches. It turns out that Vesemir has more than twenty years of experience in training. One of the survivors of the attack on Caer Morhen, Mateusz, he had trained since he was a child. Now he is an accomplished witch, who has travelled the hills more than once, and has returned alive after encounters with monsters.

Another of Vesemir's actions knocked me out of my thoughts. He used a diagonal kick from his right shoulder, aiming for my chest. I didn't have time to parry the attack - I had to dodge. As soon as I dodged to the side, Vesemir continued to drive the blade, swinging it towards my neck, where he stopped it a second later.

- Don't dodge unnecessarily, you had a chance to deflect my lunge,' he reprimanded me, moving the blade away from my neck. - And try to make less unnecessary movements, you're wasting your strength.

- I didn't have time,' I tried to justify myself, but it didn't work.

- You'll be flying in the clouds less. Don't get distracted during the lessons, - Vesemir went to the rack with training blades. - That's enough for today, you'd better go to the Windmill.

Before I left, when he had already walked a dozen metres, Vesemir turned around and addressed me once more:

- I forgot to tell you. Tomorrow I will go to the nearest village to exchange skins for millet. I thought you were going to see how the Kmet people live?

- I'd like to see how our worlds have evolved,' he confirmed.

- Then you'll come with me, at least you'll learn to ride a horse,' I nodded at his words, already imagining what my arse was going to be like tomorrow - a jolt in the saddle.

But that was tomorrow, now I'd have to get back on the witch trainer. Not the first time, and I wasn't talking about the first time Lambert had called me. That was about twenty days ago. I'd enjoyed their 'simulators' since then.

The wind turbine was one of them. It was a spinning mechanism with long sticks as 'legs'. This mechanism was designed to practise dodging and rebounding.

Also, the witches had other simulators, such as a pendulum, on which I had already had a chance to practice a couple of times. There was also an obstacle course, which is a path in the forest - popularly called 'Torture', which got its name from the young witches for its complexity and danger. On it, the young apprentices improved their running speed and breath control.

Apparently, Vesemir wanted to tell me that I could roll elsewhere, but in sparring with him, I should parry blows. I'm not good at parrying, it's not easy.

Swordfighting itself is not easy. I was convinced of this in a short period of time, especially when you are told ten times a day that you do not make the right swing, or use the wrong stance. It's a shame when it's junior witches saying it. Lambert, the little arsehole, can't keep his mouth shut, he just wants to say something.

However, it's not as bad as it might seem at first glance. I'm starting to make some progress with the sword, but not much, compared to the witches themselves, who can deflect arrows with a blade - an activity not available to ordinary people, who can do such a thing only because of luck.

After sparring with Vesemir, I went to the Windmill, which was already occupied, which was no surprise to me. A white-haired young man was practising on it, moving around the mechanism with a kind of grace, and making a lunge with his sword every two steps.

It would have to wait, but it would give me time to rest. I caught sight of a part of a ruined wall, where I sat down as comfortably as the stone ruins would allow. From there I watched the boy's actions.

Once again increasing the distance between himself and the mechanism, Geralt changed the trajectory of the blade, thus blocking the approaching stick on the right, made a half-turn in the other direction, while bending to miss another part of the mechanism.

The Witcher's reactions were incredible, which, combined with their enhanced physical parameters, allowed them to produce sharp and difficult to repeat techniques.

Not every one of them repeated those very techniques. Many of the witches adhered to a more conservative fight, trying not so much to surprise or confuse the enemy, but to deal with him as quickly as possible. More often, however, they combined the two styles.

Soon, Geralt finished his training, and headed in my direction.

- You're not often seen on the simulators,' he said to me.

I responded with an uncertain smile, and the same phrase:

- I've been guilty of sparring with Vesemir, and now I'm here.

- Not the first time and definitely not the last.

- It's true, I've made a few critical mistakes, even though I've had them explained to me. There's no way to do it without experience, or to rely on the sword, but there is still the possibility of learning magic and combining them.

After a short conversation about simple problems, our dialogue with Geralt turned to magic, in which I was beginning to show some progress. He was interested in the level to which I had progressed in sigils under Vesemir's tutelage, given my innate magical abilities, which should far surpass those of witches.

Why doesn't he know my level in magic if we've been living in the same place all this time? My control plays a role here... And the sheer amount of available energy I've been using since the beginning.

It just so happens that I was quickly able to feel the 'magic' in me. It's a feeling I couldn't feel before, but after the move it opened up in me, as if it switched on at the click of a switch, just focus on it and start controlling it. I'm having trouble with the latter.

My first use of the witch's mark was both successful and not. After several hours of trying, I managed to make the sign, but the effect was more than I expected: the shock from Aard tore down a part of the stable, which I had to fix together with Vesemir. Emotions played one of the key roles in that jolt: anger accumulated because of unsuccessful attempts, and immediately spilled out in the form of a successful Aard.

Then we had to repeat, or rather try to repeat the desired effect, but without a surge of emotions. It's not easy. Of course, I realise that I can learn normal magic only from established mages, and it's better to do it at the Academy. However, this applies to 'normal' magic. A sigil, on the other hand, is a narrowly focused burst of magic, consisting of a sign, a word, and a small amount of energy itself, which requires low control to control.

Signs were created specifically for witches, to strengthen them even more. Such crutches helped witches realise their paltry amount of energy. I, on the other hand, had no problem with the amount of energy, as it turned out at that moment.

- Sure you won't destroy it? - Herald asked sceptically, while I was pointing my hand at the half-destroyed part of the wall, near which I had been sitting earlier.

I thought for a moment, trying to figure out where parts of the wall would fly off if I overdid it, and I moved my hand to the sky.

- Aard! - From his hand, a translucent line shot upwards, repelling the air. The sound of clapping resounded through the neighbourhood.

This application was much better controlled than the first attempts. Now I wouldn't flatten a person against the wall if I had to push someone away from me.

It's not that other witches can't put a lot of energy into Signs, just the opposite, there are individuals more gifted at it who often rely on Signs in combat, amplifying them to the best of their abilities, and even using sophisticated variations of Signs.

- You know,' the white-haired witchmaster pointed out. - You have more success with magic. Okay, I'm going to go to lunch, the simulator's yours,' he said, leaving me alone in front of the windmill.

Well, it's time to get to work on this very simulator, after all, I came here for its sake.

I picked up the blunted blade I practised with almost every day, except for a few days when I had to go into the forest with the young witches to get food.

I stand in front of the mechanism, and take my first swing, aiming for the lower left stick. The windmill spun, aiming at me with another stick, which I was able to repel without any problems. What happened next was unexpected. My consciousness swam, as if moving away from my body, though it wasn't, as I realised a few seconds later when the angle of view shifted back to me, but there was a strange feeling of time slowing down.

From below, at my knee height, a stick was approaching, ready to strike the joint itself. Again, everything swam - time returned to its usual course. I immediately shifted my gaze downward, and immediately fended off the threat to my knee.

I was not given time to wonder - regarding the phenomenon that had happened to me, from which I happened to see future action - I was not given time to wonder. While my gaze remained on the sword, frozen in the same place where part of the simulator had been knocked away, another stick struck me.

- Fuck,' I whined in pain, rubbing the bruise on my head. There was definitely going to be a bump, I was a hundred per cent sure of that.

What else I was sure of was the importance of the magical phenomenon that had happened to me. Anticipation, or what it could be, was not the important name of the strange phenomenon. What was important was how it could be controlled.

It's never happened before. Maybe from practising magic while I've been here? Yeah, I'd definitely have to go to the local Academy for Mages, or I'd be left with no knowledge of magic.