The sunset was beautiful. The crackling of a fire and some cushions to sit on would make for wonderful ambiance. Unfortunately lighting a fire would attract wild beasts. This also meant that we couldn't enjoy any hot, or cooked, food.
The carp in my hands was plump. Its dull eyes stared at me innocently as if to ask why I had taken it from its home. On a rock not too far away a long line of ants eagerly dragged away small mouthfuls of its organs and intestines. My teeth sank into its stomach. The texture in my mouth was soft and slimy. I forced myself to swallow. I had eaten worse.
Vivald and Linon sat on the shore with miserable expressions. Bevald was more stoic, but the displeasure in his eyes couldn't be hidden. The lake had a few species of fish to offer. With some simple herbs a delicious dinner of roast fish could've been prepared. Even without the herbs it still would've been tasty. Instead we sat in silence eating our raw catch. The taste and texture of raw fish weren't particularly conducive to conversation.
After a long meal, punctuated with regular and sorrowful cursing at the seemingly endless bones that made up a fish's skeleton, Bevald brought up a more uplifting topic, "Linon, Vivald, you sleep first. Jack and I will keep watch. We'll wake you when its time."
Vivald tussled his hair and leant back against the trunk of a broad oak, "I'm gonna be dreaming of a fucking fire tonight."
Linon snickered and shut his eyes, "Night fish-eaters."
Bevald rolled his eyes at their behaviour. After a quarter of an hour or so when their breathing had become deeper, he spoke up, "A good first day. No injuries."
I smiled at him and replied, "Only my pride."
It was good to chat a little. Conversation would ease the tightness in Bevald's brow. He was a good leader, but still young. I didn't envy the responsibility on his shoulders. Even if he had no title to stake his claim, we all thought of him as our leader. If any of us lost our lives in this trial I knew that he'd never forgive himself. He was a good man. I hoped that the darkness in people's hearts would not break his spirit.
Bevald laughed, "Mine too. That was a disgusting meal. If I had my sword I'd light a fire and roast every fish in that damn lake. I'd be happy to share with any wolves that came knocking."
His words brought the slimy texture of the fish back to my mind, "God it was awful. I never thought I'd miss Vessemir's unseasoned pheasant so badly."
We laughed. Silence settled over us. This time it was comfortable and easy. Occasionally one of us would think of something to say and we'd chuckle. The rest of the time was spent listening to the birds and the occasional cry of a beast in the distance. We listened carefully. If any beast approached it would be met with a swift spear to the face. Wolves liked easy prey. They would quickly learn that the four apes in front of them were anything but easy.
Fortunately the night was uneventful. After four or so hours Bevald roused the other two and it was my turn to sleep. Or at least to lie still. I couldn't sleep. Not since I recieved deadpool's powers. My energy was always at its peak, sleep was impossible.
Drastically enhanced endurance was among a witcher's many gifts. It was not a problem to go days without sleep. We could've chosen to push on through the night, but it was wise to rest where possible. The few hours of sleep would ensure that tempers remained even when the sun rose.
The nightime air was cold against my skin. The earth was similarly inclined. Every few seconds my healing factor jolted to life and dispelled the encroaching chill. The other three had no choice but to endure the cold. The thin tunics and trousers we had been given provided little warmth. Lakewater still remained in the fibres.
Vivald and Linon laughed and joked while Bevald slept. Their conversation ofteen veered towards beautiful sorceresses and more adult matters. At points I opened my eyes and whispered alongside them. The concentrations of hormones in our bodies were vastly different to that of a regular person's. With our longevity I wondered whether our hormonal teenage phase might last for a hundred years.
The trials and mutagens we had undergone had transformed us.. The whispers of the common folk that we had sold our souls and abandoned our humanity held some truth. We were no longer human.
Daylight broke. The three of us watched the sun rise over the lake. The view was beautiful. I couldn't imagine a more peaceful way to start the day. The sunshine brought a welcome heat. The warmth soon roused Bevald from his dreams and he awoke with a smile.
He stood up and stretched, rubbing his shoulders and calves to get the blood flowing. After a yawn he addressed us with a grin, "Ready for more?"
Breakfast was simple. Springtime was kind to us. Berries weren't difficult to find and wild carrots grew abundantly. Red juice trickled down our lips. None of us mentioned yesterday's fish supper.
The shoreline gradually faded into the distance. We delved deeper into the forest. Our pace was slow. Without weapons or armour every fight could easily turn fatal. Unless necessary none of us wished to fight. Including me. I didn't fear pain, provided that it didn't go on for too long. A wound was one thing, torture was another. My tolerance had limits.
I had recieved deadpool's healing factor. Sadly his nonchalant attitude to suffering wasn't included. My tolerance to pain was built upon my own experiences. The trial of the grasses was the worst I had endured. Pain had accompanied always humanity. I found it to be an excellent motivator. The sooner I bested my foe, the sooner the pain would end.
Vessemir was an excellent teacher. For adepts who excelled in alchemy he provided additional lessons. For those who shone in their studies he brought out rare ancient tomes. For one who could not die, he devised a new approach. I was taught two fighting styles. The first style was the typical cold and calculating style of the wolf school, wearing down one's foe and creating the perfect moment to sever a tendon or artery. The second style was different. Vessemir taught me how to trade injuries for lethality. He showed me, with his own blade, where I could recieve a cut or stab and continue fighting. An arm could be traded for a lethal blow. It would grow back in a couple hours. Gradually I reacted less to the pain. When his sword plunged into my chest I stopped crying out. Anger was better channelled into planning my next attack, screaming did nothing more than waste valuable time.
The four of us walked silently through the forests. Little navigation was required, our route was known to us all. There was no need to look for landmarks. Our noses lead the way. The scent was unmistakeable.
The cyclop's cave came into sight. The pungent stench hammered at our heads. Oftentimes a witcher's keen senses became a source of unpleasantness. There were far too many beasts that liked to dwell in sewers and graveyards.
Knowing looks were exchanged. The contents of the trial of the mountains were not a secret. Previous witchers had summarised the best approaches to each stage. The cyclops was a beast that seasoned witchers were reluctant to face. Their enormous size rendered most attacks useless. They could take a hundred cuts from a witcher's sword and still swing their barrel sized fists with just as much ferocity. Unlike most monsters they also possessed considerable wits. They were perhaps more aware than anyone that their eye was vulnerable. If they spotted any signs of a projectile or strike aimed at their eye they would cover it with one hand and simply swing their fists wildly at everything around them. This was usually enough to flatten just about anything. Several wolf school witchers had met their ends in this way.
Cyclops lived in the deep mountains and uninhabited valleys. Many of them spent their entire long lives without seeing a human. For those that did, a clash inevitably followed. Their seething hatred for mankind made peace impossible.
Kings and queens were extremely reluctant to fight cyclops. Slaying a single one would cost the lives of hundreds of soldiers.
There were many royals and nobles that would giddily throw away their entire fortune to slay a dragon. The prestige of slaying a dragon was simply priceless. Additionally, a dragon's corpse was a treasure trove. Dragon bones fetched millions of orens. Their species had been hunted almost to extinction. Money alone was often not enough to purchase their fangs and claws.
The corpse of a cyclops was neither well-respected or worth much. Killing them required immense effort with almost no reward. Cyclopses were content to eat and sleep happily in valleys far away from civilisation. Only when one's den stood in the way of lucrative trade routes would merchants be willing to grit their teeth and request a witcher's services.
The cyclops in our way had been woken from its slumber dozens of times by more than a century of adepts. It's bloodlust would soar to the heavens the moment we entered its sight. I really didn't fancy biting my way out of a cyclop's stomach.
"You know the plan. Run." Bevald hissed at us.
There wasn't time to scout the cyclop's cave. Their sense of smell was tremendous and this one knew the scent of witchers all too well. Our arrival into its territory had started a countdown. We could only push on hurriedly before it caught our scent.
I lead the way. The path up to the cyclop's cave was marked by its huge footsteps. One of them could easily fit all four of us. The stench grew stronger. I could hear the ogroid's bellow like breaths. Bones were scattered like grass across the entrance to its cave. I leapt over the skeletons, moving carefully so as not to disturb the mountains of white. The other three followed behind me with tense expressions.
Speed was key.
The cyclop's huge body rested in the centre of the cave. In the distance behind it we saw light streaming in from the cave's exit. We had to pass.
Rolls of fat on its face rose and fell steadily with its breath. Its eyelid was clamped shut and covered by a huge hand. The thought of attacking didn't cross my mind. Only a fool would fight an enemy that could be avoided.
I leapt over its other arm. The bones were so dense that I could no longer avoid them. Skulls and femurs crashed to the ground. I paused to allow the others to leap over. Now that we were no longer facing it head on, it was better for me to be at the rear of the group. I would rather be torn in half a hundred times than lose any of them.
The cyclop's eye trembled. Then it burst open. The huge pupil widened and locked onto us.
"Vile humans! Perish!" The roar shook the earth. Stalactites fell from the ceiling above as the cave trembled. We hastily avoided the falling stone spears.
The cyclops chased after us with thundering footsteps. It gathered huge handfuls of bone and hurled them at us, roaring incessantly and cursing at us. I wielded my branch desperately and blocked as much as I could. Several sharp pieces embedded themselves in my flesh. I didn't stop to pull them out. They were stemming any potential bleeding. Once we were out of here I could remove them, doing so prematurely could affect my movement.
The cave's exit drew closer. Bevald was first to get there.
"Fuck you!" He screamed with bestial rage. A spear cut through the air with almost divine strength. The adrenaline of our struggle gave rise to incredible strength.
For an instant the huge ogroid panicked. A single hand was enough to cover its eye, but now it raised both to defend itself from the spear. With both of its hands used to defend it, it could no longer hurl bone at us.
"Eat shit!" Vivald and Linon paused for a moment at the cave's exit. It was too narrow for the cyclops to follow. Bevald had already squeezed through. They shouted in unison and unleashed two more spears at the beast. The tips of the wood splintered against the cyclop's knuckles.
"I'll kill you all! I'll suck your brains out your ears!" The cyclops howled to the skies and beat its fists against the earth. From beyond the cave's exit, though we didn't stop running, we cast back gleeful glances. The cyclop's fury was unmatched. Its fists could tear through a city gate more violently than any battering ram.
Unfortunately for it, it's enormous size now became its greatest weakness. The cyclops was too huge to follow after us. If it forcefully broke through the exit, the ceiling of the cavern's beyond would collapse and bury it alive. Not even a dragon could survive that.
We had survived. We shared excited smiles. The final stage of the trial awaited us.