20. Fatal Injury

As his eyes blurred and his weakened body lay motionless on the ground, Kael realized that the monsters were closing in on him. Just as he was about to be attacked, a crossbow bolt sailed swiftly through the air and struck one of the monsters in the head. The monster collapsed with a groan of pain.

Kael opened his eyes, gasping for air. The monsters looked around, distracted by their friend's fall. At that moment, a massive figure emerged from the shadows of the trees, clad in a long cloak and sturdy but worn armor. The gray fur hat on the man's head fluttered slightly in the wind. The deep scars on his face and ice-blue eyes reflected years of experience and pain.

This mysterious warrior held a crossbow in one hand and a sword in the other. The air around him seemed to grow heavier with each step he took as he advanced on the creatures. The first creature lost its head in the warrior's sudden attack. It fell to the ground with a sharp sword blow. The other two creatures lunged at the warrior with angry growls. But the warrior parried their attacks with incredible agility.

As the claws of the first flew through the air, the warrior spun around and sliced through the creature's torso with his sword. The creature collapsed with a groan of pain.

The last creature attacked, more cautiously than the others. The warrior stepped back from the creature's sudden thrust and focused on it, swinging his sword and dropping his crossbow to the ground. The creature tried to corner the warrior with its claws, but the warrior stepped back and struck a sharp blow with his sword at the creature's legs. The creature lost its balance and fell to the ground, and the warrior quickly made a finishing move to finish it off.

As Kael watched this powerful figure take down the monsters one by one, he felt a glimmer of hope. After neutralizing the last creature, the mysterious warrior approached Kael. The man knelt and looked at Kael.

"Lucky for you, a witcher was here," he said in a deep, echoing voice. Looking closely at the man's face, Kael noticed the warrior's golden eyes. They were slightly red and deeply lined. This man's name had undoubtedly been whispered in many legends. He was broad-shouldered, well-built, and wore a weathered skull emblem on his shoulder. His hair was graying, and his beard sat in uneven but sharp lines across his face.

"My name is Aedrin Draevor," the warrior said as he carefully lifted Kael from the ground. Your wounds are deep, but you are not poisoned, which is good news."

"Thank you..." Kael whispered, struggling for breath. Before his eyes closed, he saw both harshness and unexpected compassion in Aedrin's gaze.

Wounded and exhausted, Kael's mind blurred as this warrior picked him up and began to carry him to safety. Kael wondered who this person was before he closed his eyes, but surrendering to him completely, he fell asleep, feeling safe.

Near midnight, deep in the forest, young Kael lay wounded and weak on the ground. He was lifted from the ground by this mysterious warrior, whom he had never met in his life, but who had now saved his life. With strong arms, the man gently lifted Kael onto his back and walked away with determination.

His name had been whispered in shadows and legends for years. His armor was worn with the scars of battle, his face a mirror of years of wisdom and experience. As he placed Kael on his back, there was a deep determination in his eyes. Though he knew the road ahead was full of difficulties, his steps were firm.

As they walked through the forest, the echoing sounds of night birds and the gentle rustling of leaves mingled with the echo of his footsteps. At the end of the path was the place where Kael would feel safe, perhaps for the first time in his life: Kaer Morhen. This was the ancient fortress of the witchers. With its high stone walls and ancient yet sturdy structures, it had been a refuge for friends and a sanctuary for enemies.

The man made a long and arduous journey, carrying Kael on his back. He stopped often along the way to check Kael's wounds and to support him with herbal concoctions. In the darkness of the night, he did his best to keep Kael alive. At each stop, he carefully surveyed his surroundings and anticipated dangers. Throughout the long journey, thoughts and questions about Kael's future raced through his mind.

Days later, the majestic silhouette of Kaer Morhen appeared on the horizon, hidden among the mountains. Carrying Kael, the man approached the castle and stood before the strong gates. The gates opened with a solidity that years had not worn away, and the man carried Kael inside.

For a week, Kael slept uninterrupted within the cold stone walls of Kaer Morhen. For the first few days, his body fought against his wounds, but his exhaustion and pain slowly woke him.

Each time he awoke, he received the attention of healers and other witchers, and he began to heal quickly. Aedrin came to Kael every morning to examine his wounds, soothe him, and give him herbal concoctions.

When Kael opened his eyes one morning, there was a difference in the darkness of the familiar stone room. A lightless sunrise cast a cool blue light that filtered through the ancient stones, gently illuminating the room.

The sound of a light breeze drifted in through the window at the back of the room.

Kael barely opened his eyes, taking in the details of the room. The large stone walled room was deep in the bowels of an old castle, weathered by time but still intact.

The stone floor felt frozen with years of dirt and age. He noticed that some of the beams on the ceiling were slightly wobbly, and there were cracks in almost every corner of the planks.

Kael tried to sit up easily in bed. His body still hurt, but not as much as before. He slowly got out of bed and walked to the window. The light, though not as strong, was illuminating the surroundings with the first rays of the day.

As Kael looked out of the window, he found himself in a mesmerizing landscape. As far as the eye could see, snow-capped mountains surrounded the castle, and a cold mist rose from the depths of the valley.

A blizzard danced gently on the mountain peaks. The sky was gray and heavy, as if it bore the full weight of winter.

The chill of the air hit Kael in the face as he stepped out of the room. He took a deep breath and suddenly the cold felt like a sharp needle piercing his lungs. At first his body shivered, trying to cope with the cold, but soon he felt a kind of awakening in the sharp cold outside.

Kael put his hands in his pockets and looked around. Several men were walking around him, their armor gleaming in the pale light that reflected off the stone walls.

Kael slowly began to follow the armored men as they walked.

The witchers noticed a small boy following them, but they ignored him.

In less than a minute, Kael found himself in a large hall.

 The high-ceilinged room radiated warmth from a huge fireplace, wooden beams hung from the ceiling, and old, blackened armor hung around the room. In the center of the room, around a large table, several men were chatting over blackened drinking glasses. Some still wore their armor, others sat comfortably in old leather suits, huge guillotine swords on their backs.

It was a place Kael had never seen before. he quickly noticed the smell of dark ale and incense mixed together. Some people laughed and chatted, others drank quietly, only occasionally making eye contact and staring at the soulless walls around them.

Armor and shields from old battles hung on the walls. Only a few weapons and a few helmets were mounted on the wall, so many that Kael felt each one had a story to tell as he looked at them.

Aedrin noticed Kael coming, put down his drink and hurried over to him. He had a stern but understanding look on his face.

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