Juray arrived at Spikeroog to the village of Svorlag and was largely ignored as she headed towards Udalryk's house, located on a small hill at the edge of the village. Juray had become accustomed to stares and suspicious looks over the years, but Skellige was the only place in the Continent where she was treated like any other warrior. After the initial glances of curiosity, the Islanders went about their business. When she approached the longhouse, she was stopped by a guard.

"Welcome to the home of Jarl Udalryk of the honorable clan Brokvar," he said.

"Greetings," Juray responded. "Wanted to see the jarl."

He motioned inside. "Enter. Jarl's still speakin' to his seer, but they should finish soon. One thing, watch where you step."

"How come?"

"Jarl's not too fond of light. Makes it easy to trip."

"Noted. Thank you." Juray went inside to see Udalryk sitting on his throne speaking to his Druid. It was indeed dimly lit, although Juray's Witcher eyesight allowed her to see where she was going.

"And then...," Udalryk was saying. "Then a storm broke. Waves reachin' high as the boom."

"Go on," the Druid prompted.

Juray immediately felt something was amiss with the Jarl and wondered if Cerys hadn't been wrong after all.

"All of a sudden, the wind raged stronger. Heard a tumult off the starboard side. Looked to see half the crew swept o'erboard, out o' reach..."

The Druid noticed Juray. "We'll be done in a moment."

Juray nodded and went over to the fire to warm her hands after her long trek to the Island. Skellige was known for its cold, although long winters at Kaer Morhen had helped her become tolerant to it.

"And then a giant sea snake swam up and bit my arm off...," Udalryk finished. "The gods have spoken: a sacrifice is needed."

"To my mind, it's about you defeating a snake, Jarl."

"No. They demand a sacrifice. I'm sure of it. It's time."

"We must wait for a clearer sign. At least till your next dreaming."

"I don't need no more signs." He stood and motioned for Juray to approach them. Juray did so. "What brings you to Svorlag, Witcher?"

"Looking for Cerys," Juray answered. "Heard she stayed here."

"An Craite's daughter? Aye, she was here."

"Where is she now?"

Udalryk seemed distracted for a moment. "Mmm... What?"

"Cerys. Where's Cerys?"

"Dunno... dunno. Enough of the questions." Udalryk then turned and walked away in somewhat of a daze, disappearing into a room nearby. Her earlier assessment that something was indeed off with Udalryk seemed to be confirmed.

She looked over at the Druid, who had remained. "I meant no offense," she said.

"You must forgive the jarl. Hasn't been feeling well of late. I don't believe I'm acquainted with you as I am the White Wolf. I'm Hjort."

"Juray of Riverdell."

"Ah, the White Demon. The Witcher Sorceress."

"I'm not a sorceress. The only magic I can do is Signs." Juray then quickly changed the subject. "Is the jarl sick? He didn't seem quite right during Crach's feast, but..."

They heard a scream and Hjort started to head towards the room.

"Forgive me. I must go to him."

"Wait. Where's Cerys? I've gotta find her."

"Err... I don't know. Ask around!" Hjort disappeared into the room.

"Great."

After asking around and being directed to the jarl's old family home, Juray made the trek up a steep mountain path and found the remains of the house. It looked as if it had been abandoned decades ago. Juray was actually surprised it was still standing. As she approached it, Juray sensed something wasn't quite right, almost as if she were approaching a monster's lair. She went in cautiously, a feeling so heavy Juray felt as if the very house was on her shoulders. She found fresh footprints in the snow at the door and used her Witcher Senses to follow them. The trail led her straight to an unconscious Cerys.

"Cerys!" Juray crouched next to her, relieved to see she was alive. She easily picked her up and carried her outside, where Juray checked the young woman over for injuries. Aside from a lump on the side of her head, Cerys was unscathed.

Moments after Juray finished her examination, Cerys returned to consciousness, her hand immediately going to her head.

"Wha— What happened?" she said. "Where am I? Oooo... My head... Pain's just awful..."

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Juray answered. "You took a hit to the head in there."

Cerys looked up, surprised to see the Witcher. "Juray...? Why're you here?"

"Came to look for you at your father's request. Told me what you were doing and wanted me to explain to you that Udalryk is just mad and to bring you home. Thing is, I think you're onto something."

"I won't go back...," Cerys trailed off. "Wait, you don't think he's mad?"

Juray shook her head. "I could sense there was something off with him at the feast. But meeting him just now, he doesn't act like a madman."

"I need to go back in for the sword!"

"What sword?"

"It's Brokvar, the ancestral sword of Udalryk's clan. I need it to lift the curse that holds Udalryk."

"What do you know that led you to believing Udalryk is cursed?"

"Years ago, Udalryk and his little brother butted heads over the sword. As custom has it, the clan sword should go to the firstborn son, Udalryk. But his father gave Brokvar to his little brother, Aki."

"Serious insult in these lands."

"Serious enough for Udalryk to break a sacred law in Skellige. He openly questioned his father's decision."

"Guessing his father couldn't let it pass?"

"They chained Udalryk to a pike, up to his waist in the sea. Spent three days like that. When his punishment ended, he and Aki sailed out to fish."

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess something went wrong."

"Your guess is correct. There was an accident. A storm broke out and Aki fell overboard. Udalryk had his hands full with the sails. Didn't hear his brother until it was too late."

"Didn't hear... or didn't want to hear...?"

"Some folk on the isle had the same doubt, but none would mention it aloud."

"What do you think?"

"I don't want to jump to any conclusions. But I do think whatever happened at sea that day, well, it's affecting Udalryk right now, powerfully so. And it could have somethin' to do with that sword. Long as I remember, folk've said Udalryk's the chosen one, the one the gods speak to. I believed it once, but now, considerin' certain things... I think he's just haunted, and it's his dead brother that's hauntin' him."

"Daring theory... Not breaking any of your laws just by thinking it?"

"Don't care. I don't believe it's the gods talkin'. Have you seen him? He's covered in scars."

"Those aren't battle scars?"

"If you call the strife in his heart and head a battle... I asked him about it. He said the voices command him to hurt himself – for the glory of the gods. I think not. It's not the gods, it's Aki."

Juray frowned. She never held any stock in religion or the gods. In fact, she didn't believe in them after all she'd seen in her lifetime. But she did not believe even the gods of Skellige would be vicious or cruel enough to demand someone to harm themselves. She was starting to suspect that something else was at work here.

"So you think Aki either cursed the sword or his ghost is haunting him because Udalryk let him die."

Cerys nodded. "I've talked to Hjort. He swears Udalryk didn't start hearin' voices until after Aki's death. And I don't think Hjort's mistaken, he knew both those boys from the cradle. I think we've to give Brokvar to Aki, and he'll leave Udalryk alone."

"If it's a ghost we're dealing with," Juray stood from the crouch she'd been in their entire conversation. "That might work. But something is still off about this whole thing."

"What?"

"Aki drowned at sea. So why would his ghost haunt this house?"

"Aki and Udalryk both lived here. Maybe that's why. Thanks for your help, Juray, but I've gotta get the sword." She stood, a bit wobbly and Juray steadied her.

"I'll get it."

Cerys looked at her surprised. "Really? Thanks. So I can go see Udalryk."

"I think we should go together. He might believe it better if I'm there to confirm the theory."

Juray searched through the house until she found the cellar. Once inside, she found the foundation was sturdier than she'd thought, but she felt she'd just dropped into the middle of a monster's lair. But she spotted nothing in the darkness as she lit the lamps scattered around the cellar. Until she found the sword laying in plain sight on a table. With one hand on her silver sword, Juray picked up Brockvar. She spun around at the shriek to see the shadow of a demon-like creature on the wall from the light of one of the lamps. Turning towards the lamp, she saw nothing but a shadow disappearing.

"Cerys," she said, immediately heading in the direction the shadow had disappeared. Juray threw open the door to find Cerys sitting on a bench nearby. She stood when Juray exited the house, unharmed.

"So?" she asked, either ignoring Juray's alertness or not noticing it. "D'you find the sword?"

"I found it. Let's go."

After enduring inquisitive questions about Juray's personal life, the Witcher and Cerys arrived at Udalryk's home, to find him, Hjort, and a cradle with a child in it overlooked by a couple guards on a porch area.

"Horridly bright out here," Udalryk complained as they arrived. "Stings the eyes."

Juray immediately noticed the bandage on Udalryk's left hand.

"The fresh air will do you good," Hjort said.

"The gods won't be pleased."

Juray cleared her throat to remind them she and Cerys were standing there.

"Jarl, our guests, remember?"

Udalryk just looked at them blankly.

"What happened to your hand?" Juray asked.

"I sacrificed it to the gods," the Jarl answered as if Juray just remarked about the weather.

"Forgive her, Jarl. Juray's got more to learn about our customs." Cerys looked at Juray, a look in her eye telling her to tread carefully. "We're close to the gods in Skellige. And the chummier y'are, the greater the offerin' you make. It's our belief that the greatest thing a man can offer is his pain, his suffering, the pure sacrifice."

"To hear the gods is a gift," Udalryk corrected. "Not a sacrifice."

"These voices you hear...," Juray started.

"The gods. Their voices."

"Forgive my bluntness, Jarl, but I do not believe it's the gods you hear."

"Watch your words, foreigner," Udalryk growled. "You're in Skellige, our land, and we revere the gods here. If you weren't an Craite's guest..."

"Jarl, the Witcher said so herself she meant no offense," Hjort defended. "Let us hear what she has to say." The old Druid had a knowing and hopeful look in his eye.

Juray nodded her head in thanks. "More likely this is somehow related to your dead brother."

"I told Juray of Aki," Cerys quickly said upon seeing the surprised look on Udalryk's face as he stood. "We concluded that—"

"That the gods are angry at you, yet he's the reason," Juray said, knowing that Cerys was about to offend the Jarl even farther than he already was. "That's why you have to apologize. To Aki himself."

"I... I didn't want to... Aki fell in the water... I... the gods will be angry."

"Lemme help you. And I promise to do everything I can to keep from angering the gods."

"Heed the Witcher, Jarl," Hjort encouraged. "Make amends to Aki and you'll surely please the gods."

Udalryk looked away from the others and down at the child in the cradle, sleeping soundly. "What would you have me do?"

"Do you remember where Aki fell in the water?" Juray asked.

"Near the isle's east end, by the mouth of the bay. Current had swept us toward Ulula's Needle."

"It's a dangerous spot," Hjort said. "Treacherous eddies swallow a handful of sailors each year."

"We need to sail there. Aki's ghost won't rest until Brokvar's returned to his remains."

"No, no, no, no!" Udalryk cried. "The gods. They'll be angry... I feel it."

"Fear not, Jarl," Hjort said. "The gods love you, and they loved Aki. Surely they want this."

"Well, maybe I can sail there. The sword should be returned. That's what matters. Makes no difference by whose hand."

Udalryk nodded.

"What do I look for? Did Aki have anything that'll help me recognize him? Something he was wearing that could survive all this time underwater?"

"Aye... Our clan ring."

"That oughta be enough. I'm off." Juray turned away and headed towards the dock to find a boat she could borrow for the excursion.

After finding Aki's remains and returning the sword to them, Juray returned to the longhouse. As she approached it, she heard a scream. Juray raced to the house and passed the guards. Inside, Udalryk was standing by the fireplace, his back to everyone.

"But why? Why'd you do it?!" Cerys cried.

"I... I had to. The gods commanded it."

Hjort looked appalled and Cerys was visibly upset.

"No gods command men to do such things!"

"What happened?" Juray asked.

Cerys turned to Juray. "Udalryk...," she said. "The gods commanded him to poke out his eye."

"What?!"

"Such was... the will of the gods." Udalryk turned around, his left eye completely gone. "A sacrifice... for Aki."

"For fuck's sake...," Juray muttered. "What did the gods say? Exactly. Do you remember? What'd they tell you?"

"They were angry. A voice said, 'You vile wretch. You didn't help Aki, and now you failed to sail out to beg his forgiveness. Poke out your eye. Suffer, and regret the evil you've wrought.'"

Juray knew then it was not the ghost of Aki speaking to Udalryk. And she knew for certain it wasn't any divine beings. No god would ask that of anyone.

"When did they tell you this?"

"Shortly after you left. Sleep came over me, so I lay down. 'Twas then they revealed their will to me."

"They always speak to you in your dreams?"

"Always."

"What do you see then? Do they try to summon you somewhere specific?"

"My old home. They command me to light torches, then speak from the shadows."

Juray just happened to glance down while resisting the urge to say something offensive about the gods of Skellige, noticing Udalryk's shadow had taken on the same form as the one she saw in the house. She looked back up at the Jarl, a suspicion growing in her mind.

"The gods always demand you offer them your suffering?" she asked.

"Only that pleases them, so they ask for more and more."

"The gods ever show you their form? Or are they always just a shadow?"

"Once, I steeled myself, gathered my courage, and in my dream made my torch burn bright. I saw a hazy figure sitting in shadow then." That sounded exactly like what Juray had seen in the Jarl's old home.

"Is that why you don't allow any lights in here?"

"In my dreams. Atimes I see their form. When the torches burn bright."

"To see the gods is a great honor. Maybe, with more light in your house, you'd see them when you're awake as well."

"Lesser men are unworthy, they cannot gaze upon their faces." Udalryk then seemed to forget they were there, raising his arms as if he were reaching towards the gods themselves.

Juray looked back at the shadow on the floor. "Cerys, is there a place we can talk?"

"The guest room. Come." Cerys led the way to the room and shut the door behind them. "You wouldn't be asking to speak in private if returning the sword worked."

"You're right. I wouldn't. I sensed there was more to madness when I met with Udalryk one on one. I couldn't place my finger on what was going on until just now. It's not a ghost that haunts Udalryk. It's a hym. A post-Conjunction creature, very rare and very dangerous. It's why I didn't identify it right away. It latches onto men who commit vile deeds. It feeds on their pain for years, fueling their guilty conscience. In the end, hyms force their victims to mutilate themselves. Exactly as Udalryk is doing right now."

"Any way to defeat it?"

"I know of two methods that work. In theory." Juray crossed her arms. "There's the Witcher's way. Our bestiaries say you have to spend a night in the hym's lair. With the affected individual."

"The haunted house, you mean? It's hardly cozy, but I wager you've slept in worse conditions."

"It's not about sleeping. You've gotta draw the hym out. It has to emerge from the shadows, show itself. Can't hurt it otherwise."

"And it's sure to give as good as it gets."

"You've seen Udalryk. It won't be an easy fight."

"What's this other way?"

"They say a hym can be tricked. You have to pretend to do something horrible. Then it'll move on to you as its new victim. When it realizes it's been tricked, it'll be forced to leave."

"Great! Let's try it!"

"Don't know anyone who's successfully pulled it off."

"Well, maybe no one's thought up a trick that was good enough."

Juray wasn't convinced that they could even trick it. That doubt must have shown on her face.

"I know you're doubtful, but we should at least try to find a way to trick the hym."

"Might not be as simple as it seems. Besides, neither method's perfect."

"What d'you mean?"

"Udalryk might not survive an entire night in the hym's lair."

"You think the hym... would it try to kill Udalryk?"

"No. That would mean losing its host. But Udalryk could just... expire. He's weak, and the house will summon painful memories. Whereas to the hym, that'll be an opportunity. The more pain the hym causes Udalryk, the stronger it'll grow."

"And the more dangerous it will be to you."

"Mhm."

"And what about the other method?"

"The hym's a demon, and demons are notoriously hard to fool. Plus, the trickster can't know it's a trick."

"What?"

"The hym attacks those who have a guilty conscience, truly believe they committed a foul deed. The hym strengthens their regret and feeds on it. Meaning... if the new host doesn't feel true sorrow, the hym'll sense that."

"So for this to work, if either of us has an idea, we can't tell the other one about it."

"Exactly. But I won't put you in danger like that."

"Both methods seem risky... But I still think we should try the trick."

"I'm not convinced it'll work, Cerys."

"If we fail to think of anythin', we can always try the Witchers' way."

"Fair enough. We'll have to do it in its lair. Let's go back up there and look around."