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They would blink into reality and let out a wail before disappearing into the darkness, staying safely out of the witchers’ reach. They tried their best to capture the specters that were harassing them, but every time they blinked into existence, the air would stir, and winds would howl, giving them the best cover they could ever hope for.

The bald witcher felt the air closely for a while, and his face fell. He raised four fingers and tapped the young witcher behind him, and both of them reached for the bombs that were strapped to their waist.

An explosion and a white light spread across the chamber. A blinding wave of dust swept through the chamber, then four green specters appeared out of thin air. Their translucent bodies were blinking erratically, but Moon Dust didn’t release its grip, and they couldn’t hide in the void.

Roy held Aerondight horizontally and leapt ahead, closing in on two of the specters. He put all his weight on his left foot, spinning and cutting through the specter. However, without Yrden keeping them down, the specters could escape at full speed. They jumped backward and easily evaded the blade. Roy was about to regain his bearings and launch another attack, but the specters were already flanking him.

The specters dashed downward to Roy like two falling meteors, and they spun, their lanterns and daggers turning into spirals of death. They clashed with the young witcher’s blade, and sparks flew between them. The clash also created a sound that was not unlike nails clawing through a blackboard.

Roy felt his hand getting numb, and he almost lost his grip on his blade. He quickly retreated and took two steps to the side, going past his companion.

Letho stepped in and dealt with the pair of specters. Roy took a deep breath and grabbed Gabriel out of thin air, then he fired a shot at the lone specter hanging back in the distance. Ripples spread through the air, and he disappeared for a moment only to reappear behind the lone specter.

Roy slashed with his greased Aerondight a few times, cutting through the specter’s neck, chest, and lower body. The wraith let out a guttural scream before disappearing into oblivion. But Roy could not rest yet. A gust of wind blew through the dark passage, and Roy quickly blocked the incoming attack with his blade, but he felt a stab of pain coming from his left shoulder. The wraith that ambushed him broke through Quen and wounded his shoulder.

“Damn it!” Roy pushed the wraith away and glanced at his wound. The skin was upturned, and the wound was the size of a baby’s mouth. It was painful, but all the experience Roy gained from his battles told him not to rush in blindly. Instead, he kited the wraith with his swordsmanship and signs until it finally died of exhaustion.

‘Wraith killed. EXP+60 Level 5 Witcher (1060/3500)’

Letho’s battle had come to an end as well. He was sheathing his blades. The wraiths didn’t manage to injure him, but his breathing was shallow, and his stamina and mana were almost depleted. “How’s your wound looking, kid?”

Roy poured some marigold potion on it. He felt pain needling him, and he frowned, but just a moment later, a cool sensation spread throughout his body. He rolled his shoulder. “Just a light wound. Nothing much.”

“That’s good to hear.” Letho picked up the loot.

“This is the fifth wave, but still no sign of Kolgrim.”

“Soon.” Letho stared into the dark passage, and sadness painted his face. “We only got so far by working together. Kolgrim was alone, and he should have almost exhausted his stamina and mana at this point. According to the structure we saw earlier, there are fifteen chambers in this tomb. This is the eleventh. We’re nearing the end.”

“We should rest and get back to top condition. I pray we won’t have to fight anything big here.”

***

It was a quiet journey after that. The witchers didn’t run into any wraiths at all.

They came to the fifteenth and final chamber. It was twice as large as the others, and four coffins slept within it. Ignatius Verrieres’ parents and offspring were buried here. But something was off. The witchers looked around, but they didn’t see any skeletons. Kolgrim’s remains were still unknown.

They scanned through the coffins in the chamber.

“Could Kolgrim be in there?” Roy asked weakly. There were no other explanations otherwise.

“You and I know wraiths do not keep the remains of the dead, nor do they put their victims’ bodies in coffins.”

“What can explain this, then?”

“Shh.” Letho gesticulated. “Listen closely.”

The sound of wind whispered in the air.

“Is that… wind?”

A gust of cold wind blew in from the passage outside. It sounded as if someone were whistling eerily in the darkness. The flames in the chamber started flickering erratically, and the shadows of the witchers seemed to be held by an invisible hand, their sizes changing all the time.

A suffocating silence fell upon them, and Roy curled up a little, casting Quen on himself. “It’s already night outside?”

“I keep feeling that something is wrong. Be on guard,” Letho said. “Check the chamber again and don’t move a single coffin.”

***

Letho checked the coffins on the wall, while Roy took the coffins in the center. He noticed something wrong right after he checked the first coffin. There was a thin line that cut through the coffin’s surface. It was nearly undetectable unless Roy looked closely. He was sure that a sword made the mark, but the attacker’s strength was minuscule. That, or the strength of the attacker had degraded too far for them to make a deep cut.

“John Verrieres. Born: 1206. Died: 1255. Lived for forty-nine years. Cause of death: consumption. Son: Ignatius Verrieres. Wife: Mary Verrieres.” Roy kept looking. “So that one was the baron’s father.”

“Mary Verrieres. Born: 1210. Died: 1259. Lived for forty-nine years. Cause of death: difficult labor.” The baron’s mother. “Florian Verrieres. Born: 1243. Died: 1257. Lived for fourteen years. Cause of death: asphyxiation.” The baron’s son.

“His parents and son are all dead. Is this some sort of sign?” Roy muttered.

The last coffin had no name, date of birth, or even date of death. There was only one line etched on it. ‘My poor child, doomed to eternal slumber before it could see the world.’

Whose child is this anyway? Why are there no records? Roy massaged his temples. His fear was replaced by curiosity and question. “‘Doomed to eternal slumber before it could see the world?’ So it died the moment it was born. Could this be Mary’s child? Did it die along with its mother during labor?”

Roy thought that was logical, and he checked the dates on the other coffins only to come to another shocking conclusion. “The baron’s mother died in 1259 due to difficult labor, but his father died in 1255. Mary must have cheated on the baron’s father and gotten pregnant with someone else’s kid. But she didn’t make it. She was too old and too weak to deliver the baby, and she died.”

Roy was still figuring things out, but Letho had finished with his investigation, though he found nothing. “Find anything?”

“No, but I did find something interesting.”

***

Letho listened to what Roy had to say, but the veteran witcher shrugged it off. “It’s normal for the baron’s wife to have a few affairs. They aren’t exactly the most innocent people in this land. You shouldn’t have wasted your time on this.”

“I found some clues.” Roy pointed at the sword’s marks on the coffin. “Kolgrim fought someone here.”

They noticed a little path between coffins that was left by a person who squirmed across the ground, but it had almost disappeared with time. Only people with powerful senses like witchers could feel it. The path led to Mary Verrieres’ coffin.

“I have a feeling Kolgrim’s body is right in there,” Roy muttered to himself, and Letho gesticulated at him.

They flanked Mary’s coffin, then Letho kicked the coffin’s cover. It yawned open, and the witchers assumed battle stances. They were ready to cast their signs, but nothing happened, even after a while.

They went to take a look, and there was a lone skeleton lying in the coffin. Black leather armor was draped over it, and there was nothing on the exposed part of the body save for the bones. Nobody could recognize who it was. The clothes on the skeleton were nothing but strips of cloth, and there were holes on the chest and sleeves. Obviously, it was attacked many times before its death.

There was also a sword lying beside the corpse. It had a horizontal crossguard, and the blade was slender. The ridge was slightly protruding, and it formed a long triangle with the blades of the sword. The sword was looking dusty and unassuming from all the dust that was covering it.

Letho picked the sword up and observed the blade. He tilted his head and scanned the ridge before putting it down. “It’s his steel sword.” He sighed.

“Is this Kolgrim?” Roy was still on guard.

Letho did not answer. He picked the corpse’s pendant up and swung it around. The pendant was in the shape of a viper. He then took the tibia and weighed it in his hand. “Witcher bone is denser than human bone. I can still recognize it, even after two years.”

“How did he perish, then?”

“There are no marks on his skeleton. I can’t be sure just yet.” Letho picked the skeleton up and checked it meticulously. Eventually, he found a leather blueprint and a yellowing letter in the corpse’s pouch.

‘To Ivar Evil-Eye, founder of the Viper School.

I have found the legendary blueprint that belongs to our school, but I ran into some problems. I stayed the night in a Temerian village on my way back to Gorthur Gvaed. Those damn villagers accused me of kidnapping some beekeeper’s boy, intending on making me a scapegoat.

They took me to the baron’s castle for a trial, and they found one of the blueprints. It was confiscated, but don’t worry. I will take it back. They did not find the other blueprints, of course.

I invoked Temerian law and requested for trial by ordeal instead of accepting the baron’s decree. My request is accepted, and I shall travel to the baron’s family tomb tomorrow and cleanse it of the evil spirits dwelling within. There should be no problem at all. Perhaps I have already returned to the fortress when this letter finds you. Set the furnace up, Letho, Auckes, Serrit. It’s time to make some weapons.

Kolgrim’

“Kolgrim,” Letho muttered, tears welling in his eyes. He took a bottle of wine from his spatial ring, raised it up, and finished half of it in one gulp. “I will take you home, Brother. But first, a toast to you.” He breathed out of his mouth and sprinkled the rest of the wine into the air.

There was only the sound of wine pouring onto the skeleton coming from the chamber for a while. Roy was holding the leather blueprint tightly, staring at the scene. Sadness welled in his heart, but he knew this was the fate of most witchers. They would die in foreign lands and disappear under the earth without even a gravestone for them.

The witchers stared at Kolgrim’s remains and mourned in silence. But then, Roy scanned through the empty coffins, and when he realized what he had missed earlier, a chill ran down his spin.

If there’s only Kolgrim’s body in there, then… “Where’s Mary’s corpse?”

***

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