The confession hadn't been spilled at the alderman's feet. It'd been divulged that night to Kozin's ears only. They were riding back to the village. Yorvik, slung over the horse's withers like a sack, told all to the witcher. What he'd done to Meina and why. How he'd used imaginary monsters as scapegoats. How so many perfectly innocent people took the fall. And as he admitted it all, he couldn't help but laugh. They were desperate, pleading laughs—evidence of his unhinged mind.

Kozin listened intently. He didn't want to hear it, to be reminded once again the worst mankind was capable of. But he listened. He listened to every word. His face remained stony, but inside, he was screaming. This thing he was carrying back to the village, it wasn't a man. It wasn't even a monster. It was a parasite. It stuck to the underside of humanity, sucking the life out of it and injecting its own vile poison at the same time.

Suddenly, the witcher's head perked up. He had been too distracted to hear it at first. There was a fire, a large, uncontrollable one burning in the distance. He heard the crackles of splintered wood. They were far from the smoke, but he could smell it. Kozin urged the gray horse into a canter, turning a blind eye to Yorvik's discomfort. As they neared the edge of the woods, the smell and sounds grew stronger. Kozin's heart raced. That fire was coming from the village.

As Kozin broke through the trees, he saw a wall of brilliant light. The village gates were aflame! Aki! was his first, panicked thought.

The gray horse snorted and pinned its ears. Kozin didn't coax it any closer to the fire. He dismounted and raced towards the crumbling gates. From behind, he heard Yorvik's maniacal cackle.

Kozin raised his arms over his head as he crashed through the gates and into the village. Behind him, the weakened structure collapsed. He lowered his arms and saw a body lying close by. It was the man Kozin had found in the crowded house, one of the three villagers that'd been accused of being a darkling. His body was a mess. The ground around him was covered in blood. He had been hacked at and beaten to death, and Kozin couldn't tell which injury had been the one to finally snuff out his life.

It wasn't over. In the distance, Kozin heard shouting coming from the village center. He ran. Each house he passed had its door flung wide open. Nobody was home. The evil creatures of the night had poured out onto the streets, spurred into wild chaos by Yorvik's uproar. A dense feeling of dread rose in Kozin's gut. They were starting their hunt, their twisted crusade.

A swaying figure in the corner of his eye caught his attention and made him stop. It was a woman; the second accused villager. Her head draped down to her chest as she swung listlessly from the creaking rope. Blood ran in streams down her arms and dripped slowly from her fingertips. Kozin stared in horror, struggling to breath. Two were dead. And next was…

A scream pierced the air.

"KOZIN!"

A shock ran through his body and jumpstarted it into motion. Kozin ran as fast as his legs could take him, feeling the cold dread trickle through his veins and seize his heart. "Aki!" he called out. For the first time in the longest time, he was scared.

He saw them gathered in the village center. They blocked his view, but Kozin knew what they were crowded around. Heads turned as they heard the witcher's pounding footsteps. They must have felt the wrath he carried within him. The villagers scattered, bleating out cries of fear as they retreated into the night. Two remained—a man and a woman who tugged on a rope, dragging their son by the neck towards the tree. They didn't run when the witcher raced right up to them, and hardly made any sounds as he shoved them away.

Kozin crouched down and flung the noose off. One glance over the Aki's broken and bleeding body told him the raw truth: the boy was dying. He'd been too late.

His body shook with rage, with pain, with guilt. He stood and faced the two demons that were still there. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Kozin thundered. "This was your son, your own child!"

"We'll get our boy back!" the man, the demon, replied defiantly. Determination flashed in his cold, crazed eyes. "Once we kill this little monster, our Aki will—."

His words were cut short as Kozin's fist collided with his jaw. The strip of metal over his knuckles shattered the bone like glass, and the force of his strike snapped the skull from the base of the neck. The corpse buckled to the ground.

The second demon shrieked. She tried to run. With a flash of cruel metal, she lay in a growing pool of blood.

His breathing was haggard, laborious. He held in his trembling hand the silver sword, which he had drawn without thinking. His burning eyes scanned the darkness. The beast within him, born from rage and agony, bellowed for more blood. It needed to rip and gnash, to claw out as much pain as it had endured.

Then he heard the soft, gasping whimpers behind him. Immediately, the beast vanished. The sword fell from his hand and landed, dull and heavy, on the ground. Kozin turned to the little figure. He fell onto his knees. Gently, he reached out and took little Aki in his arms. He pulled the boy to him and cradled him against his body.

Aki's hooded eyes slowly climbed up. When he looked up into Kozin's face, he smiled. Joy relit the child's fading eyes.

"You're… here…" He hardly had a voice left.

Kozin rested a hand delicately against his face. "That's right, Aki. I'm right here." He was fighting to keep his voice steady. "I've got you. It's okay, Aki. It's all over now. I'm right here… I'm with you." He continued to soothe Aki as the little boy gazed up at him. Kozin watched the light grow dimmer and dimmer. "I'm right here… I'm right here… I've got you…"

And then, he was gone.

"I'm right h-h…." Kozin's voice cracked. He fell forward and hugged the body tightly, gasping for air. His eyes burned. He had waited so that Aki wouldn't see the tears. They blinded him and felt warm like blood on his skin. You needed me and I wasn't there. I couldn't save you. I'm… I'm sorry, Aki!

The witcher threw his head back and screamed into the sky. It was a terrible, anguished howl. The sound of a soul shattering. Dying.

It only stopped when his throat couldn't take it anymore, his lungs deprived of air. Though his face was still wet, he had no tears left to shed. When he opened his eyes, the man that used to be behind them was gone. With Aki still in his arms, Kozin glared into the darkness around him.

"YOU DID THIS!" he shouted into the empty air. He knew they'd hear him, wherever they were, wherever they hid. "DAMN YOU ALL! A THOUSAND HELLS AWAIT YOU!" Kozin rested the little boy back down and stood. He stormed over to where his sword lay and seized it. He flew down the streets, looking for more monsters to cut down with the silver blade. There was not a soul in sight. The doors that had previously been gaping open were now all sealed shut. Cowards, fools, animals, all of them! A thousand hells awaited them all, and he would be the one to send them there.

Kozin Signed Igni and set the nearest house aflame. Again and again, he threw fire. Within seconds, a whole street of houses was engulfed in hungry, crackling columns of fire. He didn't stop there.

Doors and windows were thrown open and some lucky few managed to run. They escaped the raging flames only to be slain with the silver blade. Kozin left a trail of blood and bodies, marching to the next house to exact his raving vengeance. He had no idea how many homes he had destroyed, how many lives were swallowed in the walls of flames. He didn't care.

Then he stopped, eyes wide as though he were snapping out of a trance. What are you doing? He slowly looked back at the wreckage he had caused. Everything behind him was alight, burning to the ground. A house collapsed, sending a swarm of red embers up into the dark sky. What have you allowed yourself to become? What would he think of you if he saw you now?

What does it matter? Aki was gone! Kozin would never get him back! And it was all because of… of… him. Gnashing his teeth, Kozin turned back and headed for the gate. By now, it had become nothing but a smoldering heap. The fire had gone on to trace the wall, surrounding the village in a ring of fire.

Kozin found his gray horse standing by itself. But Yorvik had not gone far. Kozin found him, still bound, trying to wriggle away. He gave up when he saw the witcher standing over him.

"You think yourself high and mighty, witchman?" Yorvik snapped at him. "You condemned me for trying to preserve my skin, but what have you done? Murderer! No different from the monsters you claim to slay!" Kozin suddenly grabbed the chain and began dragging Yorvik along the ground. They headed into the woods. Deeper and deeper they went. Kozin didn't stop until they were in the heart of the woods. He threw Yorvik in front of him.

"They weren't people anymore!" Kozin growled. "The humanity was bled out of them, and you were the puncture. You, a foul, rotting wretch that managed to slink out of some vile abyss. And before you sank back into it, you reached out and brought them along. Everyone in that village, they've all been dragged down with you. But you know what?" Kozin grabbed the collar of Yorvik's shirt and yanked him up to his shining, inhuman eyes. "So have I."

He dropped Yorvik and smashed his boot down on the man's leg. Bone cracked, followed by a scream. Kozin reached down and broke the other leg with his hands. While Yorvik was still screeching in pain, Kozin wrenched the arrow from his shoulder. Immediately, the cloth around the wound began to grow red. The rusty scent of blood filled the witcher's nose. If he could smell it, then so would they.

Kozin left Yorvik there and made his way out of the woods. As he stepped out from the trees, he heard the invigorated howl of wolves.

He went back to the village one last time that night. He went back to take Aki out of that hellish place. A few remaining fires still burned in the village when he returned, but most had died down.

He saw them scattered on the ground by the broken gates. Gwent cards, strewn about. They had been untouched by the fire. It took him a while to gather them up, but they were all there. Not a single missing card. He tucked the deck back into his pouch and continued into the village. When he came to the center, he saw someone standing over the body, a sheet crumpled in their arms. Kozin stopped a short distance away and watched.

Catha didn't notice him. She knelt down next to the boy and reached out a hand to gently close his eyes. Then she took the sheet and draped it over him, completely covering his body. She stayed there for a moment before rising. It was then she noticed the observer. As their eyes locked, she froze with fear.

No longer did Kozin harbor ill will. He had grown tired. "Thank you," he said quietly. He walked slowly up to her and looked down at the covered body.

"I couldn't bear to leave him like that," Catha said quietly. "Just a child… How did it come to this?" Kozin lowered himself and wrapped the sheet around the body.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm not leaving him here," Kozin answered as he stood, the tiny bundle in his arms. "And if you've any sense, you'd get out too."

"Where would I go?"

"Anywhere but here."

He left Catha and the village center. A thought came to him as he carried the bundle. Aki had never been outside the village. He had never seen the world. Kozin looked down at the sheet to where his face was. I would've taken you with me, he told the boy, and we could have experienced it all together. He stopped when he reached the gates. Here we are, Aki. Are you ready?

Together, they stepped over the wooden debris.

Kozin whistled for his horse and rode away from the village. They traveled through the night, and by dawn had arrived at large fishing town that sat on the shore of one of Temeria's great rivers. There, he purchased a small boat. He ignored the confused looks of passerby's as they watched him tie the boat to his horse and drag it away from the shore. Kozin took the boat to a grassy field that stretched for miles on end. The air smelled of sweet dew and the tall grass rustled in the wind like comforting whispers.

He took the little bundle down from the horse's back and lowered it into the boat, which had been dug into the ground. He opened the sheet, letting the cool morning air touch Aki's pale skin. Kozin felt his throat grow tight as he looked down at the calm face. He unfastened a pouch on his belt.

Holding the gwent cards, Kozin said aloud, "I was supposed to teach you how to play. I'd have you build your own deck. For now, you can have mine." He gently placed the cards into the boy's hands. "Hold onto that deck for me, Aki." He wrapped the sheet back up. "Good boy."

The soldiers found him standing in a field, conducting a ship burial. They let the ritual finish, standing by as the witcher stared silently into the fire. When there was nothing left but a boat frame and ash, they pinned his wrists together with shackles and brought him before the alderman.

"Half the village burned to the ground! Countless dead!" the old man boomed furiously.

"It couldn't be helped," Kozin mumbled, his eyes lowered to the ground. "That village was lost."

"And you've brought no slain monster?"

"No."

"No?"

"I found monsters," Kozin answered. "But I couldn't stop them."

"Couldn't stop them? What kind of witcher are you if you couldn't save that boy?"

Kozin raised his head. "Wh-what?"

Impatiently, one of the soldiers spoke up. "Clean the cotton from your ears! His lordship said 'What kind of witcher are you if you couldn't kill the monster?'"

"I…" He looked down. "I don't know."

Kozin's unusual impassiveness fueled the alderman's audacity. "Get this worthless thing out of my sight!" He was led out of the room and away from the manor.

A soldier accompanied Kozin to the outskirts of the town. As he undid the shackles, the soldier said, "You're lucky the alderman didn't put your head on the block. It'd be best if you didn't show your face around these parts again."

You needn't worry, Kozin thought as he walked away, rubbing his wrists. I'm never coming back.

He watched the last bit of smoke puff out in front of his face and slowly dissipate. The inn was starting to grow empty. The burnt residue tipped from pipe onto the table. His hand reached for the tobacco pouch, but paused. No, it was time to move on.

Kozin left the inn and looked around. The white-haired witcher was nowhere to be found. The lack of contracts had pushed him on. Well, it wasn't like Kozin was going to miss him.

A horse with a skewbald coat was waiting for him. From its haunches hung multiple saddlebags and a wyvern's head. Kozin approached the horse and started tightening the saddle straps. It was going to be a long ride.

Just as he finished, he heard a voice behind him. "Where are you going?" Kozin turned and saw a young boy standing with a stray dog. The boy's hair was black.

Kozin didn't say a word. He stared wordlessly at the boy, who watched him innocently. Maybe long ago, he would've reacted, felt something. Anything. Not anymore. He had learned that it was better not to care. So, so much better. He turned away, climbed onto the saddle, and tapped the horse with his heels. As it began moving, Kozin kept his eyes trained forward. He dared not look back.

He rode away, the shadow behind him stretching longer and longer as the day drew to a close. When the sun finally dipped in front of him, he became nothing but a silhouette.

End. Thank you for reading.