Where I Stand

All The Ghosts In my Closet

From the moment he wakes up to the time he makes it downstairs, Lambert knows something is wrong. He hears it before he sees it, a commotion coming from the main hall and the sound of voices speaking in a concerned hush.

"No. Out of the question."

"He needs our help, Vesemir."

Eskel. He was late this year, and they were all starting to get worried that something happened. That is, until they received a vague letter from him a couple days ago explaining that he was safe but dealing with a problem, and would explain everything when he got to Kaer Morhen. Apparently, that was now.

Lambert turns the corner to find Vesemir, Eskel and Triss Merigold, of all people standing in the middle of the great hall. Their faces hold a grim look that makes Lambert's stomach feel uneasy.

"Not here," Vesemir says, voice tight. The old man's tone carries a weight to it that Lambert hasn't heard in many years. "Take him somewhere else."

"Where?" Eskel throws out an arm, stepping forward. "After the schools fell you made Kaer Morhen open to all witchers. It's our duty to help our brother."

"I don't care. A Cat will never set foot in Kaer Morhen again. Not after what they did."

"Well that's not your decision to make," the scarred witcher says, jabbing a finger in the old man's direction. "You may be the oldest, but you are not our leader. We all get to decide."

Vesemir lets out a long sigh. "Fine. We'll talk to the others. Where is this witcher now?"

At that, Triss approaches warily. "We have a...temporary solution."

"And the man that did this?"

"Taken care of," Eskel's replies tightly.

"Hmmm. At least there's that."

It's at this point that Eskel's eyes fall on Lambert where he is standing wide-eyed in the doorway. "Lam--"

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Lambert," Vesemir says calmly, "go get Geralt and Jaskier."

"No need," Geralt says, breezing into the room behind Lambert, bard in tow. The two of them look like they ran out of bed just moments ago, hair mussed, naked except for pants that Lambert assumes Jaskier insisted they wear before leaving their room, lips red and swollen as if they had been interrupted. The sight gives Lambert a tiny hint of satisfaction to know that they got what was coming to them after keeping him up last night with their noise.

"We heard the commotion," Geralt says. "Eskel, what happened?"

Eskel opens his mouth to speak, but Vesemir cuts him off, moving between him and Geralt. "Go put some clothes on," the old witcher says. "Training is cancelled today. Meet back here in ten minutes. We all need to talk."

-------------------------

Lambert sits hunched at the long table in the main hall. A bowl of oatmeal lies barely eaten in front of him. He feels sick to his stomach.

"A feral witcher?" Geralt asks in disbelief.

Eskel folds his hands on the table. The scarred side of his mouth twitches slightly-- something that happens when he clenches his jaw really hard. "For lack of a better word, yes."

"Whatever the wizard did stripped him of all humanity," Triss says. "Memories, training, everything. So far it doesn't even look like he can speak. By the time I found him, he'd resorted back to whatever base instincts he had left."