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Rach was a typical cat witcher, he loved the challenge of climbing any high place of Kaer Morhen, especially for sunspots to lounge in. He tended to roam the halls of his new home, at all hours, it helped with the wanderlust, a by-product of the school"s mutagen. He loved a good kitty pile and the safety he felt within. All cats were known for being a "little odd in the head" and the other side effects, like vipers being a "touch stab happy" were accepted and dealt with respectfully.
All witchers had an array of enhanced senses, keen hearing, and acute eyesight, and they could tell what had crossed their path by scent trail. Vital when hunting monsters on the path.
Knowing everyone you lived with, by smell, was rather useful when looking for them in a place as large as Kaer Morhen. Witchers could tell what kind of emotions a person was feeling, it did make things easier for a group taught to disregard feelings. Many had communication troubles due to the training forced on them. Being able to know you were pissing off a person before it came to blows was a huge boon.
Most of the time the information from these abilities just sat in the hindbrain, a reassurance, while daily life progressed smoothly around them.
When Rach noticed a new smell, turned up in some of his usual prowling routes, oddly only in the less travelled darkened hallways.
It was just a faint whiff of old parchment and dry woad ink, not a usual choice for ink, clinging to a disused attic space.
At first, he thought nothing of it, probably a trainee sneaking off with a good book to read, instead of doing chores. He as a kit had also slunk away from his duties if he thought he could get away with it, to various degrees of success.
It was filed away as harmless information and carried on like usual, prowling when the urge took him.
****
Then came the day Rach could not miss the addition of an acidic element within the now familiar scent, depression tingled uncomfortably in his nose, mixed with the unmissable salt of tears.
Books did not have emotions to add to an established smell.
Curiosity pulled at his attention with a big hammer, as he followed the scent trail towards the large library of Kaer Morhen.
Like a playful kitten with a ball of string to bat about, Rach"s feelings of joy flooded around him as he walked.
His nose had picked up this anomaly outside the Gryphon"s wing entrance. Again, not where he has come across it before, this corridor being well traversed by witchers and staff alike. Rach noted
it pooled in each shadow cast, as whoever paused for a few moments. "Clearly a skittish one." He surmised.
In the library his task became infinitely harder, trying to work out the single scent he sought, from all the people who were using the large room. He"d lost the old parchment smell as soon as he stepped over the threshold, too similar to all the surrounding books. What had aided the cat witcher in his unusual search was the acid burning smell of despair.
Rach followed his prey"s scent trail. Enjoying the pleasant hunting game, he realized this had turned this into, as he wove around bookcases, again with unusual stops unless you were actively hiding your presence. "Attempting to hide are we?" He mused.
However, he encountered a problem, the smell went beyond where he could continue. Rach stood blinking at the odd room, his medallion humming, a magical barrier barred access past the broken doorway. Green-gold eyes blinked slowly.
Confused, he still vibrated almost on the spot, excited as extra mystery tangled into the metaphorical ball of string he was batting at.
"Hey Bran, what"s up with all this?" Rach motioned to the translucent, shimmering wall stopping him from gaining entry and some much-needed answers.
"Vesemir"s orders, just us allowed in. Until Triss gives the all-clear. Then you can join the queue." The big bear witcher paused with an armful of books he was moving to a table for Oran to deal with.
"No one, you say, and that"s worked so far?" Rach raised an eyebrow in query, "Been here long?"
"Most of the morning, big task. Yes, curious kitty cat." Bran raised his brow in retaliation to Rach. "Besides should be done in a day or so, and then you can state that urge of yours." A deep chuckle rolled out of Bran.
Smiling wide and flashing his teeth, Rach found it funny the bear thought his cat nature, flashing in his eyes, was to see the recently found space. Like all the other witchers who were champing at the bit to get in Eskel"s forbidden secret room and see what all the fuss was about.
Giving a shrug, Rach turned away from his privet quarry"s hiding hole. But he would be back. "You win this round." He mentally complimented.
****
Today"s evening meal in the great hall of Kaer Morhen held a loud, bubbling and interesting hive of activity at the Crane"s table.
The explosive fire of this morning"s demonstration had caused quite a steer among Kaer Morhen"s inhabitants.
Like a kicked bee hive, every crane was swarming around Stefan and his spread-out blueprints, voices a jumble as they talked over each other, just too excited to wait. A few of Rach"s fellow brothers also flocked to the table, hoping to sate the itch to know what fun those scrolls of paper held.
Rach wanted to see too, yet found he could not get close enough, no matter how he twisted and squeezed between closely pressed bodies. Looking up, he decided to go higher in the great hall.
One easy leap to the thick rafters, and he would be able to hang from his knees upside down over the crowd and see better.
That had been his plan until he encountered the scent of old parchment and wet ink. Blueprints were suddenly forgotten when presented with an opportunity to renew the personal hunting game, he was greatly enjoying it. The thrill of the unknown and his question ball"s loose strings lay in a tangled mess.
High up in a world of their own, Rach and targets trail. Drawing the surrounding air deeply, he could smell old parchment, a tiny tang of acid, fresh ink made from woad. As he expected, it clung to the deepest of shadows in the wooden beamed maze. Darting from one perch to the next, with all the grace of his school, Rach realized his prey had spent a significant amount of time above all the witcher schools" tables. "What are you up to?" Rach added that thought to the ball in his head.
The scent was quite fresh. "When had his quarry been observing them?" He concluded they must have been in the hall only last night. He mentally cursed himself for missing such a wonderful opportunity to have portentously caught a glimpse of his unknown quarry.
Rach was certain he was the only one currently aware they were not alone in the keep. Following his nose out of the great hall. He could get food later from the kitchens, right now he obeyed his urge to know more. The need itched under his skin, making Rach want to run down his prey. But forced himself to slowly stalk through the hallways of Kaer Morhen.
****
He was beginning to build up a profile of his unknown target, like writing out a new entry in his notebook, they all kept on the path. Quiet feet, on autopilot, lead him towards the library, his mind busy filing away facts. Parchment being the base of the creature, the ink tended to change from wet to dry, perhaps mood or another unknown factor. It also exhibited human emotions he could read.
Inside the library, he found again the scent of old parchment blended into the background of so many books all in one place. On the vast threshold, Rach took a deep draw of the air through his nose, searching for the trail he knew would be within.
He was alone, which was to be expected at this time of the evening, and everyone eating or serving food. There! He found the smell of wet woad ink twining with unexpected hope, it has replaced the depression Rach had become used to smelling in it.
Unlike before, when he followed the familiar trail of his prey, it did not duck and weave about the library.
Rach could see, in his mind"s eye, how the unknown entity strode with determination straight for its goal less than a day prior. No hesitation or fear of being discovered spoke that it was learning the habits of Kaer Morhen"s occupants. "Getting brave now are we?"
Again he stood before the mystery room, his way no longer bared by Triss" magic, she had deemed the room harmless only that afternoon.
Rach paused at the door, stretching all his witcher senses before going forward into the room. He could not see any forms, nor could he hear any breaths or beating heart.
The pattern of behaviour changing, where it no longer clung to shadows and stopped moving like a deer grazing, worried him. "Did you learn something important in the hall?"
If he closed his eyes and let his nose paint the room in his mind. Rach smiled, amused at how much he was doing that of late. He could see where his prey had been travelling from the door to one of the glass boxes, there it just stopped. "Well fuck me." He was not expecting that.
Confused, he spent some time in the new reading room trying to find more puzzle buts and solve how his prey had got away. "Things don"t just disappear into thin air."
Short of using magic or a portal, he was stumped for an answer.
Deciding to go fill his growling belly, Rach shook his head, amused. "Oh you win this round, but I know you now, soon I"ll have you." He was enjoying his little ball of questions deeply. Tomorrow he planned to patrol the keep in all the places he"d been before, sure in the knowledge his prey would not have gone to ground for too long.
****
The grey stones he was leaning back against had long begun to cool without the setting sun"s orange touch. Rach jumped down from the narrow window ledge, making it look easy, not the high-up drop it happened to be. "Time for grub."
He was still grouchy even after spending time in the soothing calm of his favourite sunspot, soaking up the last golden rays of the day.
His little hunting game had not gone as planned the night before. Rach ended up roaming all around Kaer Morhen with no joy, annoyed at not even catching a whiff of his intended target.
Music floated along the corridors as he walked towards the great hall for his evening meal, it was getting late if the Jaskier was playing his lute. Rach"s nose twitched as he passed the open music room. Old parchment, dry woad ink. "That"s odd." What was his prey doing here? Why could he smell it so strongly? Like round, the glass boxes. Pepper clouded the air, "Oh, it"s upset." He realized, he"d only just missed his quarry with how fresh the scents were.
First slipping into the music room, he planned to get at least one answer that day. His nose led him to the bard"s desk and the sheets of parchment neatly placed on the wooden surface. "That"s odd, why would it give Jaskier music? What were you doing here?" Rach retired back to the hallway, instead of turning toward food, he cracked a grin and began to lope down the halls, witcher quiet feet carried him along routes he started to expect.
He notices that his prey has returned to clinging to the dark pools between the torches lining the walls, even when this annoyed.
Had Jaskier said something to upset his query? No, the bard"s scent had been his usual. Also, Jaskier had not been in the room very long according to his mind"s eye, a quick in and out. "Har running late then bard!" Ratch was curious, had the human not seen his visitor? "They waited for you." He realized with a startled understanding.
All the witchers were familiar with how annoying Jaskier could be, all fluttering hands and twittering words. Equally, frustrating was when the bard was composing in his head, blind to the world around him. "Could walk off a cliff one day, dumb ass." Rach"s lips rose in a smile at that thought.
Rach was overjoyed to see his tangled ball of questions falling apart as he battered and tugged at the thread some more. "Brave of you, sensible move."
****
Once more, Rach found himself ascending to the heights of Kaer Morhen"s attic spaces. Ears pricked up a lone heart, beating in a rhythm faster than his own yet, not as fast as a human"s. He no longer needed to breathe deeply to scent the air for clues, it was now as easy to read, as an open book.
The attic, more of a storage space, looked cleaner than when he"d visited before. Back then, it had been nothing more than a place for a trainee to sneak off to, in his mind. Now there were clear signs of life, but not what he would consider comfort.
A tangled heap of furs and blankets in the darkest corner, he guessed stolen, he also noted all had seen better days. "Modest thing ain"t we."
A low beaten-up coffee table with a large flat cushion on the floor, stuffing falling out, acted like a desk with books piled by it.
With caution, Rach surveyed the cold room, his quarry was indeed inside.
Taking to the room rafters deep in shadow, which there was plenty of, he watched. "Turn about is fair play." Rach thought.
The only light was from the gibbon moon through the lone window, the improvised desk set in the light would pool to make use of it. No candle or fire burned. Rach found that odd, but his attention was completely on a small almost child-like being, it was pacing back and forth.
He listened to his quarry either mutter to itself or the book on the table it kept gesturing towards, he was unsure.
Rach was briefly confused and stretched his senses again to check they were indeed alone in the attic space. Reassured there were just the two of them, he returned to paying attention to the whisper-soft voice.
He was sure this was how quiet the entity usually spoke, as if used to dealing with enhanced hearing. It felt nice to his ears, like when he was deep in the heart of the kitty pile.
"I had no idea humans could be so ... closed off. I was right there! Oh, stupid mortal man." the entity flicked its hands in the air skyward, in a sharp, frustrated motion.
Rach stifled a chuckle that wanted to babble out of him. That was a very apt description of Jaskier when consumed in one of his passions.
He observed the entity, he was still to decide on the sex of the androgynous child-sized body, and long wild hair did not denote sex. It picked up the top book from the stack, and paused in its pacing. Long delicate fingers, tips stained, stroked the book cover with fondness, even cradling it to the entity"s flat chest.
"I will not abandon you, my love"s. Perhaps another gift will work? A different school or mag... No, I refuse to speak to them." the creature had cut itself off.
A brief whiff of fear at the aborted word floated up to Rach"s nose.
He was sure wherever this entity was, they did not mean harm to Kaer Morhen and those who lived within the walls. But he would make sure to stalk here and the places he"d smelt their scent for a few more days before making his final decision. "I win." Smugly, Rach congratulated himself.