The Divine Hunter

Morning light rained upon the land, bringing with it glorious sunshine. The House of Gawain stood tall in the woods, the rustling of the leaves and warm breezes brushing across its walls.

Carl and his companions sat on the stakes in the training grounds, swaying their legs about. A meeting of the reserve apprentices was well underway.

"Carl, you can beat all of us easily now, ever since you passed the Trial." Monti tugged on his shirt, allowing the winds to kiss his belly and cool him down. He shifted his gaze to the conference hall beside the fence. There was respect in his eyes.

"That's not all he did." Acamuthorm was loudly kissing Carl's ass, but there was evident schadenfreude in his voice. "He killed a drowner and a nekker. And he lasted five seconds in a spar with Felix. He's worthy enough to join the conference, but they won't even introduce the new guys to you. And Roy wouldn't even tell you why he became bald again. They still think you're a kid."

"Carl's not even ten. He is still a kid, technically speaking." Lloyd patted his chest. Quietly, he said, "They have their job, and we have ours. We should just train. If they see us slacking off, they're gonna punish us."

"This is too much!" Charname shook his head in annoyance. "We're reserve apprentices. Sooner or later, we'll be witchers. We should fight for our rights to join the meeting. And we need to ask them why we still can't take the pre-Trial. It's been six months since we started training. When can we take the Trial? I can't wait. Carl, you gotta help us out. Ask them."

Carl's lips twitched. He rubbed his wrist and looked away from the flying griffin. The boy pushed himself off the stake and landed gracefully. And then he tiptoed toward the conference room. His friends followed closely. They hid under the windowsill and listened in to the meeting.

"So Coen is the only remaining Griffin?" a deep voice asked. Carl could tell it was Letho.

"For now, yes," an unfamiliar voice answered. The youth in that voice was unmistakable, but there was also depression lingering within it.

A long silence ensued.

"Our condolences, Coen," a slightly hoarse voice said. "Keldar rescued his imprisoned comrades. He died a hero. That's the best way any witcher can go out."

"Yeah."

"So what's the plan now?" a voice of reason asked. "Do you want to stay at the orphanage for a bit? It's our base. Makes it easier if you need someone to talk to. I've always wanted to see how Griffin Signs work."

"Thank you for the offer, but I'd like to rent a house in the city. And Igsena needs a job."

"Easy. Kid, take them to the business district. Dandelion needs some new staff members, if I remember correctly."

"Oh, and your girlfriend's there too, but she looks absolutely miffed. Speaking from experience, don't let her wait too long. Tell her everything. Be honest. And chuck a Swallow just in case."

"What experience? That time you fucked a cow?"

"Enough, Aiden. Stop with the slander, or I'm telling everyone what you did at The Pike's Grotto last time."

"You're making an embarrassment out of yourselves, fools," someone growled. "Sorry you had to see that. If your partner finds a job at the ballroom too demanding, Gawain can get her another job on his turf."

"You have a ballroom?" a silvery, lively voice asked. "There's theater and dances? I love that, but I'm just a country girl who can't even read. I wonder if I can handle the job."

"Worry not, lady. There's a ton of different work there. And you're still young. You can learn."

***

"Ahem. May we have the honor of witnessing the cause of this tragedy—the Book of Shadows?" a lively voice asked. It was filled with curiosity and anticipation. "We'll check it for you."

The boys could feel their heart leaping out of their chests.

"Shut it, you fool. That book is the Griffins' top secret. You think they'd let you see it just like that?" The voice of reason lost its cool. Apologetically, Serrit said, "Sorry, Coen. He got his head banged up by kikimores and bear traps. He's intellectually challenged. Please, don't take it to heart."

"That will be all for now, friends. We'll be in contact again once Vesemir returns."

***

The discussion had come to an end, and someone opened the door. The witchers emerged from the room and went back to their positions. Some went to the blacksmithing area, some went to the lab, some went to class, and some went to the farm.

The reserve witchers had returned to the training grounds and went on with two-on-two sword fighting. They were wiping off their sweat as if they had been training for a long time.

Carl put one hand behind his back like a teacher and pointed out all the mistakes his friends made.

But still, they failed to escape the witcher's eyes.

"You kids love to eavesdrop, don't you? How did listening to the meeting feel like? Fun?" Geralt approached the children and smiled stiffly. "You can have all the fun you want now. Everyone, get on the stakes and give me three hundred squats. Carl, you're doing a thousand."

"Geralt, no!"

***

Coen noticed the little scene, and he looked a little envious of how well things were going on here.

Roy smiled. "They're good kids most of the time. But they get up to things from time to time."

Coen looked around at the smithy, the lab, the farm, and the classroom. Witchers were teaching children the skills they needed to survive. As surprising as this was, Coen said, "You did it. You found so many apprentices."

"No. Only five of them are actual apprentices. The other kids are regular students. They're only learning how to read, write, and support themselves when they grow up." Roy suggested, "If you'd like, why don't you come over and teach them for a day or two?"

It was a tempting invitation. Keldar left him a mission before he passed, and this place might be perfect for the continuation of Griffin values. But the thought of Keldar brought him sadness. "Perhaps another day, Roy. Lead us to the ballroom, please. Once Igsena has settled down, I shall lend you the Book of Shadows as we promised."

"And I'd like that very much." Roy held his excitement down. One of the reasons he risked his life was for the chance to read the Book of Shadows.

"But please don't make this knowledge public." Coen gave him a look of unspoken plea.

Roy hesitated for a moment, but he nodded in the end. Not even Vesemir—a good friend of Keldar—had the chance to learn the Griffins' secret arts. Roy got that chance just by fighting. He knew he shouldn't ask for more, but Roy would try to slowly change Coen's mind until he would willingly contribute to the brotherhood.

Most of the members weren’t Sources. At most, they could master Dual Sign. Geralt was perhaps the only one who could master Roar. Still, Roy wanted to broaden the members' horizons.

***

The trio left the House of Gawain. Through the alder woods they went and across the refurbished path they walked. To Novigrad's southern gates they went. A long, bustling line waited before the great gates. With each passing second, more people entered the city.

Coen noticed an odd phenomenon here. In most cities, the guards would approach witchers for interrogation. Most of them would have grim faces. But to his surprise, the church's guards were respectful to Roy. They looked at him like he was some important figure, and they were courteous to him.

They were allowed entrance easily.

***

Novigrad's roads were bustling with activity. They would get the occasional looks, but unlike in most cities, they weren’t discriminatory. Still, some weren’t friendly, but all of them remained calm. Some were even genuinely curious.

But what puzzled Coen were the things they muttered. Things like 'butcher of the sewers,' 'guardians of justice,' and 'killers of kidnappers.' Why do they look at us like we're some sort of public figure?

Roy noticed the surprise in Coen's eyes, but he didn't explain. They still had a long way to go before success would wave its hand at them. Their work would only be done when Novigradians saw witchers as people they could look up to.

***

It was early in the morning, but despite that, a third of the ballroom's seats were filled. Roy scanned the first floor, but when he saw who was on the second floor, he froze.

A gorgeous sorceress in a long, purple dress was resting her chin on her hand, showing them a perfect smile. But the complaint and frustration behind that smile did not escape Roy. His heart sank, and a drop of sweat dripped down his forehead.

Lytta beckoned him.

"Coral. No wonder I didn't see you back at the orphanage. What brings you to the ballroom?" Roy took the seat beside her.

He wrapped his arm around her waist as he took in the scent of roses coming from her hair. And then he introduced the newcomers to her.

Coen and Igsena took their seats. They looked at the couple and exchanged a smile before they dug into their breakfast. At the same time, they watched the performance that was unfolding upon the stage. It was one that talked about witchers. One where the witchers took a request to eradicate the city of kidnappers.

"Why do you think I'm here?" Lytta picked up an oyster with one hand and squeezed some lemon juice onto it. Then she fed it to Roy, a big smile curling her lips. "Say 'ahh.'"

"Slow down. Slow down."

"Well done!" Loud cheers and applause erupted. Even Coen and Igsena looked invigorated. The handsome actor was dancing on the stage with a prop sword in his hand, fighting through the horde of despicable, dirty kidnappers.

"Slow down, my dear Coral. I can do this myself— Ow! Okay, okay. You do it."

After she stuffed five raw oysters and three hard-boiled eggs into his mouth, she happily wiped his lips with a napkin. She grabbed the top of his head with her right hand and turned him around. "So, baldie, I just met a young lady from Aretuza. And she told me a certain someone rescued her from the clutches of an evil couple and made a promise to see her. I think that certain someone has plans for her."

Lytta stared straight into Roy's eyes. She had a big smile on her face, but that smile said something along the lines of, You'd better spill everything.

"Don't call me a baldie, Coral. I promise it'll grow back in two weeks at most." Roy flinched and quickly gulped down some stew. "Are you talking about Toya of Aldersberg? It was nothing. Anyone with a conscience would help. I've forgotten all about it."

The answer did not make Coral happy. She brushed her fingers across his arm and drew circles on his forearm. She pinched him and let go, her eyes glinting coldly. "Her name is Casiga. It's been two years, and you still remember her old name. You even remember where she comes from. You still care about her."

There was jealousy in her voice. "She's still a little girl, you pervy little—"

"Ahem. Lady Lytta, Master Roy, and hello, new friends. Welcome to Novigrad's ballroom. I am Dandelion, the manager of this establishment." An attractive voice spoke. Dandelion elegantly approached the table and gave them a bow with his hand to his chest.

His purple top and the feather on his hat gleamed under the light of the magical lamp.

"This is Coen of the Gryphon School and Igsena of Poviss." Roy heaved a sigh of relief and pulled his arm away. He then gave Dandelion a grateful handshake and bumped shoulders.

Dandelion gave him a subtle wink. "Good afternoon, my new friends. What do you think of the performance?"

"Incredible," Coen complimented. There was still a hint of sadness in his eyes, and he instinctively commented, "But the embellishment is a little over the top, the actor's swordplay leaves a lot to be desired. And the eyes don't look natural enough. Props? Anyway, the movements are—"

And then only muffled sounds could be heard. Igsena covered Coen's mouth and smiled sheepishly at Dandelion. "He means it's perfect. We've never seen anything as innovative as this particular performance. It'd be a miracle for the bards and poets not to slander witchers, let alone praise them."

With pride in his heart, Dandelion puffed out his chest. "It is exactly why I take the path less traveled. My conscience tells me I must correct the wrong perception the public holds of the witchers."

"So, Dandelion… Igsena just came to Novigrad, and she needs a job and a place to stay. Do you think she can work here?" Roy tried his best to ignore the withering looks Coral was giving him.

"I think she's fine. Business is getting better. I'm dealing with more than a dozen shows every day. Our acting staff is exhausted. The first thing they do after they get back to the dorms is sleep." Dandelion glanced at Igsena. "Igsena has an eye for good performance. All she needs is some training, and she's good to go."

"A-Are you sure?" Surprised, Igsena finally let Coen go. He huffed and puffed and gave his excited girlfriend a weird look. "But I can't read. I won't even know what the script is talking about."

"Redania's most famous performer, Tarantino, started out as a farmer. Performers care not for who you are, only your talent and effort. I shall lead you to the office where my lovely Priscilla is," Dandelion said. "She shall provide you with a position and a place to stay. But you will only start out with a regular pay and a house in the slums. I trust you'll understand where we're coming from."

"Thank you!" With her hands tightly clasped before her belly, Igsena bowed at Dandelion, excitement welling in her heart. She then bowed at Roy as well.

Dandelion nodded. "Oh, Roy, I need to tell you something as well." Dandelion touched his perfectly-maintained mustache. His eyes were sparkling, and his face was lit up with delight.

"The duchess of Toussaint, honorable Lady Anna Henrietta, has given me an invitation. She wishes for me to perform in her kingdom before Lammas arrives." There was pride in Dandelion's voice. "This is an honor no bard can refuse. There's two weeks left until Lammas arrives, and I shall be setting off in two days. I will be absent for a month, and I would like Auckes to accompany me. He shares a deep love for poetry like I do."

Roy paused for a moment. Oh, right. Dandelion's performance is held during Anna's husband's absence. And this guy managed to beguile Anna with his talents and fucked her.

"Sure. Just ask Auckes if he wants to go."

"He told me to ask you. Probably worried you might have other plans for him."

"I see. A month, huh? Auckes will go with you, then." Roy was touched that his friends thought of him. He then looked at Dandelion closely and patted his shoulder, much to the bard's confusion. "Dandelion, you once told me monogamy is not for you. I hope you've changed your mind since then. You have a lover waiting for you right here in Novigrad. Don't ever forget that. Do not cheat on her."

"I am a changed man!" Dandelion's eyes glimmered, and he looked beyond the fence. "I turned all of my love into poems for Priscilla, and I gave her my entire heart. I have spared none for any other woman. That's the truth."

Coral scoffed in disdain.

"Dandelion, this is for your own protection. You'd do well to remember my advice."

***

Once they finished lunch, Dandelion led Coen and Igsena downstairs. Lytta was trying her best to see if Roy still had lingering feelings for the girl. A long while later, she finally had the answer she wanted. The mage shot him a look and reluctantly pulled out a letter from thin air. "Here's the love letter from your little girlfriend, Casiga. Take your time and enjoy it."

She turned her back on Roy and pretended to dig into her salmon.

Roy held the letter, but he was in no hurry to read it. "How is she doing? Better?"

"Magically modified. Her disfiguration is gone. A beautiful flower waiting to blossom, I'd say."

"Is she doing well in Aretuza?"

"She made three new friends. Happier than she has ever been. Still misses you, though. You never wrote to her, and it broke her heart." The jealousy in her voice filled the air.

Roy nodded and handed the letter back to her, much to Lytta's surprise. Gently, he said, "My dear Coral, she's just a young acquaintance of mine. I harbor no romantic feelings for her. If she's fine, then that's all I need to know. No need to read this letter."

Lytta froze for a moment, and then delight welled within her. She stared into his eyes, and dimples formed on her cheeks as a warm smile curled her lips.

"Oh, I'm not that petty. We can read it together." She rested her chin on his shoulder, her cheek huddling against his. She breathed down his ear and wrapped her arm around his other shoulder.

Roy opened the letter.

***

'To my dearest friend, Roy,

Two years have passed since our last goodbye in Aldersberg. Every time I stare into the seas crashing beyond the academy's windows, I think of you and what you told me…'

***

Roy didn't even pay attention to the letter.

"So, how long will you stay this time?" Lytta drew circles on Roy's palm, and it tickled him.

"A month at the very least. I need to learn the Griffins’ secret arts. The Book of Shadows contains invaluable magical knowledge, some of which might be useful even for you. But I've promised Coen to never tell anyone else what I saw. I'll try to convince him otherwise, however."

***

'Whenever I encounter a problem concerning my magic, your smile always shows me the path ahead.

Lytta has shown me what you look like. You've changed so much. I nearly couldn't recognize you, but my heart tells me you're still the same boy I know. These changes are nothing but growth for you.

I will do my best to follow in your footsteps and grow alongside you. And I did grow. I do hope you will be the witness to that.'

***

"So I assume you'll be studying during the day. What about at night?" Coral's voice was almost ethereal. He felt her lips on his cheeks, and he could feel her legs rubbing against his.

***

'I would like for you to come to Gors Velen, my friend. It would encourage me very much.

There is a pond on the island filled with lotus leaves and mayflies. Black fish swim beneath the surface, and an elm tree stands beside the pond.

We can ride a boat together, but this time, I shall be the one performing a magic trick for you.

Always yours,

Toya/Casiga (you may call me whatever you please)

Written in Aretuza, thirteenth of July, year 1262.'

***

"I'll spend the night with you." Roy sighed and folded the letter. All he remembered were the opening and ending. The content went by his head, and he couldn't remember a thing. All he remembered was going home with Coral and messing around with her the whole afternoon, night, and morning.

And then he went straight to Coen's new house happily in the afternoon.

***

***