WOLVES WITHOUT TEETH ( geralt of rivia.. )

010. darker legends..

A convoy rode to Kaer Morhen a full moon before Geralt and Azaras arrival. Hengfors League's most prominent figures from the capital of that federation, two men with their last name Korber, bravely took on the high paths and every single legend and story they have heard, to meet with the old wolf dwelling in the ruination of what was once a great school.

"We don't meddle with war," Vesemir greeted them over an empty table. The cutting of their shackled armour pierced all lack of noise that the fireplace punctured barely. Cold nipped at everyone's red cheeks and the Korber brothers seemed unusually unbothered, such that they even bravely agreed to leave the five men they took with them outside, in the yard.

Aslan Korber, oldest amongst the two, both owners snowed over features in deep wrinkles, has been staring for a while at the tree of medallions, glassy blue eyes reflecting ghosts he could not see and memories he did not have. His brother, Janus Korber, sniffed his blocked nostrils careless of Vesemir defensive.

"We'll be paying you enough to last a life time."

"I'm sure you can find men who can do it for cheaper," Vesemir twisted his words, narrowed his eyes and knew he will be getting exactly the answers he is looking for.

"We don't need men, we need a Witcher!" Far more irascible, it seemed, Janus pointed out the desperation Vesemir wished to see.

Aslan sighed, dreaming of a way to avert his gaze from all the deaths imprinted on the medallions and marks of fallen Witchers. As much snow was on an evergreen tree on top of mountains, so was this graveyard hanging from a dead stump of a once great tree. "There used to be so many of you."

The perks of living too long and remembering too much had Vesemir look between the Korber brothers and remember a day, back in time, when they were hardly taller than his knee, clunging to his cape in the first long winter they have seen. Heading for a political party in Vespaden, they encountered a lot of problems by the river banks, across the plains. Vesemir saved their convoy back then and escorted them to the party himself, earning a generous reward and it seemed, the print on these boys' minds forever too.

"Which is why we cannot spare anyone for games of thrones, when there are so many monsters yet to kill. Kingdoms come and go, fortresses fall, others rise..."

"You are here to make sure there are still people to foolishly fight those wars," Aslan hummed an ironic smile, speaking over the end of Vesemir's analogy. They all looked older now.

"What if there were monsters in the enemy's army?" Janus insisted, quietly.

"I would tell you then, there are many things a human mind sees falsely when they are afraid of shitting their pants in battle," with a cutting voice, Vesemir replied ever so unshakeable from his neutral state. Earning one too many glares, he sighed out a more decent, rather than bitter, explanation, "Monsters can't be tamed to be pets. They don't think like you and I, they just have one purpose and that is to kill. Though it sounds like they're designed for war, trust me, unleashed, they would kill whoever stands in their path, ally or foe, makes no difference."

"Barefield was wiped clean," Janus visibly paled having to say that. He was the one who, in a ride up north, discovered the massacre. "Men of the watch towers said there have been monster movement more than usual and we wanted to warn our neighbors to close their gates at night. What I saw there still haunts me."

"Sheep slaughtered, walls bathed in blood, empty fortress," Aslan lowered his gaze to the table. "No life left behind."

"So we decided to do what's human and warn our neighbors, only no other kingdom or keep in the league has been affected," Janus face turned grim. "You can say whatever you want about wars, but no one kingdom is blown out of existence overnight, in the heart of our league, without being noticed."