Chapter 46: Episode 44

Disclaimer: I don't own Nasuverse or any other franchise that can be found in this fanfiction.

Words Count: 5079

Here's my usual spiel:

You can read way more than 10 Episodes in advanced plus my other fic: Ars Goetia– Antichrist here.

p a tr e on . com (/) LiamThePoor

A/N: As promised with another reader on Scribblehub, two days. I think I finally figure out why my writing speed is slowing down, in case you don’t know, I’m a huge fan of the TVD, Originals and Legacies shows(Mostly because of Nina Dobrev and Danielle Rose Russell), but every time I read a Fanfic about these shows I just, I lose all motivation to write. I don’t know why either, never happened with any other franchise before. Weird, right?

A/N#2: Onto DML, I’m glad people like how I treated the Bloody Baron. I’ve read a lot of Witcher Fanfics, but none ever took the guy’s side, some didn’t take any side at all. Truth’s, I loath Anna Strenger and love Phillip, guy took in an orphaned girl, no question asked and our Witcheress, he deserves way better than all the endings in the Game. 

One has him take care of Anna the Bitch, one has him hung himself after losing both his wife and daughter, just thought I should shine some lights on my favorite character in Witcher 3. Sure, the Baron’s crass, sometimes he could seem rude, but I feel like those are the best guys to be around. No need to be careful not to offend them, no need for power-plays, or subtle manipulation, just be yourself, be respectful but not submissive and he’ll treat you the same.

---

Lost to the infinite expanse of Void.

He was gone.

They were just talking mere days ago, and now he was lost.

She might never see him again.

Her friend, her only friend.

The sole person who could somewhat understand the responsibilities sprung upon her as Fuyuki’s Second Owner after her father’s untimely demise.

She wanted to beat him up, to slap him and scream at him until this, this suffocating weight in her chest let up, but was that even possible? Would she ever get the opportunity?

There’s no guarantee he would– Could find his way back.

The Multiverse was large after all, who to say he wouldn’t be stuck in another Universe or Dimension?

One so drastically different that the chances of him ever returning would be close to none.

Or maybe he would arrive to a timeline similar to this one? Never realizing the differences?

Rin had finally made a friend– A real friend that wasn’t there for her wealth or appearance.

One who cared nothing for the fame her clique so desperately wanted to leech off of her.

And now, he was gone, lost.

Rin bit back the tears.

She knew being a Magus was dangerous.

She knew there were hundreds, if not thousands of Mages currently losing their lives in a research accident, even as she sat here, lifeless on her bed.

She had lost people before, family.

Rin was used to it, used to the pain and the loneliness.

What else was new? Yet, even as she told herself this, even as she kept repeating it over and over in her head like a mantra…

The pain was there still, present and growing more intense.

A sense of loss that permeated her body and soul.

She didn’t want to do anything, she didn’t even want to continue her research.

It’s like she was dying of thirst, only to be given a few droplets and then left to die, and it hurt.

It hurt so much she could barely breath.

Rin rolled on her bed, face stricken with streaks of tears.

“Why– *Sob– Why does this keep happening to me?”

Rin held clutched her head, her red skirt wet and damp with tears.

“It’s unfair… It’s so unfair.”

Rin just wanted her friend back.

She just wanted her little sister back.

But most of all, she just wanted her parents back.

Yet, all she could do was cry herself to sleep and try to act normal

Like the problems weren’t there,

Expecting them to solve themselves.

For what else could she do?

She couldn’t resurrect her parents,

She couldn’t simply walk over to Sakura like the matter of her being sold to House Makiri like a mere cattle had never happened

And even if she dove into the Star-Gate after Leonis,

What difference would she make?

What good would that do?

“Please– Please– *Sob…”

Thus, she sat, arms over her knees and begged for someone, anyone to make the pain go away.

Unfortunately, her prayer would remain unanswered yet again.

——◇  [Fate: DML] ◇——

Novigrad was once a beautiful city, one free of the rampant tyranny caused by lords and ladies, kings and queens. Don’t get me wrong, it was choked-full of hypocrisy, racism and corruption, as was any other settlement, but it was margins better than its counterparts. Yet, as I stood at its gate, gazing at the busy crowds of people pouring in and out of the city, I could find none of that supposed beauty and freedom.

Guards dressed in fiery garments and rusty armors were stationed absolutely everywhere. The gates, the streets, even the sketchy alleys where thugs and bandits inhabited. In fact, I had seen the guards receive bribes at least a dozen times, and we had only entered the city for less than fifty minutes. HOW was this allowed? Radovid was a rabid dog, but he was never this incompetent in the games! Hell, I’d say he was quite the intelligent king for all his faults.

I knew he sponsored Whoreson Junior or Cyprian Wiley– One of the Big Four of Novigrad’s criminal underground, but this was  too much, too visible to remain unnoticed. What was the Council of Electors doing? How could you fuck up this badly managing a city? ‘No wonder the Big Four are considered the real authority in Novigrad…’

Either the Council was so deep in their pockets, they couldn’t even be bothered to care anymore, or their influence had weakened enough that they no longer held any real influence in or control of the city, both scenarios spelled ‘disastrous’ for the common folks, and you could feel the consequences too. Everyone was on edge, everyone was weary and hostile, even the gangs themselves seemed tense.

Wild Hunt had portrayed Novigrad as this beautiful city, filled with diversity and people and that was true, but only partly. It did not display the full extent of powers held by the gangs, neither did it manage to convey how horrible Radovid’s presence was to the city itself. With Whoreson Junior– That rapey, psychopathic son of a bitch backed by the ruling king of Redania, the already fragile balance was broken.

From what little I had caught from the locals’ gossips, Whoreson Junior had been aggressively expanding his criminal activities without a single care in the world, disregarding the Council and his fellows Big Four. Obviously, the other three couldn’t be seen as weak, so they retaliated. The Council, which usually reigned in these four criminal bosses had no method to deal with them, and with that realization came chaos and mayhem.

Whereas before, the Council of Electors still had a bit of sway with the Big Four, they were now mere puppets. Those who surrendered to the criminals were mostly left alive and well, those who did not were often found as rotting, bloated corpses floating about near the harbors. And then, there were the witch hunters and Eternal Flame fanatics… The less said about those preachy motherfuckers, the better.

If I had to listen to them for a second longer, I might just lose my shit and lop off their heads.

“I didn’t know Novigrad would be in this bad of a state…” Ciri muttered underneath her hood. I replied, dodging a fanatic who was about to walk into me. I didn’t want to catch anything nasty, like their obnoxious reverence for what amounted to a naturally occurring chemical reaction. Seriously, how idiotic must you be to worship fire? There’s not even a God or Goddess associated to their shitty religion! ‘I blame the Order of the Flaming Rose for this mess.’

Damn Jacques de Aldersberg and his time-travelling bullshit too.

It’s fire! You put woods in clumps, rub them together and it created fire. It’s nowhere near as holy as these clerics made them out to be, and it certainly didn’t give two shits who it was burning, be them magical or not! They talked like just because they were humans, the fire wouldn’t burn them or something… I wasn’t going to lie, the urge to shove their heads into all these pyres was quite tempting.

“Hmmm, the thieves, the serial killers and the fanatics are really tanking Novigrad’s real estate market.” I bit down on the stale bread as I looked around. Already, I sensed at least twelve people following us. Some were clearly gang-members, while others appeared to be witch hunters in disguise. I guessed a hood alone wouldn’t be able to hide the Witcheress’ luscious ashen-mane. It’s rather noticeable, especially since Emhyr had put out a bounty on her recently.

Alive, of course.

“There are people following us.” I whispered discreetly to the Witcheress.

She responded, annoyance plain on her face. “I know...”

A few weeks back I was a monsters-magnet, and now it’s Ciri’s turn to attract troubles thanks to her identity and appearance. It’s almost like we were competing! I silenced my growing snickers as the Witcheress shot me an irritated look. “Well Princess, mind telling me how are we going to find this bard friend of yours?”

“As I said, he’s quite famous in these parts. We can just ask a passerby.” She scratched her chin in contemplation. “If that doesn’t work, I have another contact in the city, his name’s Zoltan– Zoltan Chivay, last I heard, he has a store in Novigrad. He’ll be able to point us in Dandelion’s direction, and if we’re fortunate, Triss’ too.”

I totally forgot about Geralt’s dwarf friend.

“Zoltan is a…” Ciri hesitantly said. “He’s a dwarf. I don’t know how your culture treats non-humans, but don’t be rude, he’s a good friend of my father.”

Pffftt–! Humans on Earth couldn’t even stand people of a different skin tone to theirs, let alone non-humans. It’s a good thing I came from a version where the Supernatural was practically nonexistent then. Unlike the people and Mages of Witcher-Verse and Nasuverse, I still had that slight… Fascination with magical species, however little it may be. “Can’t promise you anything, Princess. ‘Cause, let’s be real, I’m a prick–”

Ciri blinked owlishly at me. “But, I’m not going to scream racist shits at him, if that’s what you meant.”

She sighed. “Fine, just try to refrain from doing something that might anger him. Zoltan’s… He can be gruff and cranky at times, but he’s a very nice person.”

I never paid much attention to the dwarf in Wild Hunt, but he didn’t seem too bad the few scenes he was shown. He’s your typical fantasy dwarf, rough on the edges and maybe a tad of an alcoholic? “We should split, we’ll be able to cover more grounds that way, we can meet later at Hierarch Square.”

“Very well, Dandelion often wore this colorful outfit everywhere, if you see someone in obnoxious blue and purple, it’s probably him. Zoltan’s a dwarf with a mohawk–” Ciri briefly paused, before adding. “With how influential the Eternal Flame is, there shouldn’t be many dwarfs in the city, unless they’re on crime-lords’ payroll, you should focus on those who aren’t. Zoltan’s a mercenary, so he likely works with them, not for them.”

“Got it.” I threw Ciri a thumb-up. “Don’t get into too much troubles while I’m away, Princess.”

“I should be the one saying that.” She sent me one last eye-roll before her silhouette disappeared into the crowds of people. Now that she’s away, I could focus on more important things, like that vampiric serial killer. I had killed plenty of monsters and gotten a ton of mutagens, but we hadn’t encountered any vampire on the road. Harvesting mutagens should prove useful to my research.

As for Dandelion and Zoltan? Finding them shouldn’t be too hard. Geralt’s bard-friend could be found rather easily in his inn, while Zoltan’s completely unnecessary. Then again, I could just directly go to Triss. If I remembered correctly, she was hiding in the house of a local couple. But first, the vampire.

With a destination and a prey in mind, I too set out. “Excuse me, can you point me to the Vil- Uhmm… Vilme-something Hospital?”

“The Vilmerius Hospital? Sure, it’s near Oxenfurt, you’ll have to…” Huh? I thought I’d have to convince the guy more. And by that, I meant grease his hands with coins. It didn’t cost me anything to project those anyway, but I supposed this was a happy little surprise.

You are reading story Fate: Dead Man’s Lament at novel35.com

——◇  [Fate: DML] ◇——

It didn’t cause me much troubles to find the Hospital, beside the occasional bandits I had to cut down, it was relatively peaceful.

Located left of Oxenfurt Gate, Vilmerius Hospital defied all expectations about it. Unlike its modern counterparts, the Hospital was rundown, old. Its walls were made of dark woods with patches of overgrown molds and fungi. It had none of the sterilized appearance people would expect, none of the chemical scent lingering around its halls. What it did have however, was a strong, nausea-inducing herbal odor.

It was so revolting I nearly bolted out when I entered. “Hmmm? What are you doing here, young man? You do not appear to be injured.”

An old, balding man approached. He swept his gaze across my body, searching for any wound, yet when he found none, he seemed rather confused. It was understandable, I was dressed in unusual clothing with my clean shirt, shiny black vest and pants. I was the text-book example of a rich, young aristocrat; and those did not often venture to this parts of town. “You misunderstand my intention, sir...?”

What? I forgot his name. There were hundreds of NPCs in Wild Hunt, I couldn’t be expected to remember all of them!

“Joachim von Gratz, at your service.”

I offered my hand. “Leonis Magnum, I’m not here for treatment, but to investigate the string of murders happening in recent days. I found a clue leading back to the hospital and here we are.”

Joachim frowned. “You think I have something to do with it?”

I shrugged and lied out of my ass. “The descriptions of these wounds are too unnatural, the cuts on the victims, according to the guards, are too clean, too precise, almost surgical in fact. Your establishment is the only one in the entirety of Novigrad that can achieve the same precision.”

I jumped on an empty chair.

“Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m accusing you of anything. Believe it or not, I do not think you’re behind these ‘concerned citizen’ leaflets, nor do I think you’re responsible for these deaths, Mr. Joachim. But, one of yours definitely is.” With a lazy glance at the shabby door, I smiled. “How long do you plan on eavesdropping, katakan? Or do you prefer the your human name, Hubert Rejk?”

A third person joined us, his tone laced with ravenous hunger and primal fury. “You’re a lot younger than I had expected… I wonder, how did you figure it out? There are other coroners and surgeons operating in Novigrad, you have no reason to suspect me, and you seem quite certain about my real identity too…”

“Hubert! It’s you?!” Joachim shouted, accusation thick in his aged voice. Hubert Rejk appeared to be a man in his mid-late thirties, with a mane of brown hair swept back, trimmed beard and pale blue eyes. Yet, under that innocent guise hid his true form, a giant bat-like monster who feasted on the blood of the livings.

“Does it matter?” I questioned, a sardonic grin tugging my lips. Hubert chuckled in return, his façade dropping as hair-thin cracks and fractures crept up his face. “No, I suppose it does not.”

Joachim dove for the crossbow resting on the table.

I summoned Invictus into my grip.

Hubert’s disguise fell completely, revealing the horrific beast below as it stalked toward me, its form looming over both Joachim’s and mine. “I complimented you for your efforts, but you shouldn’t have come here alone, Sorcerer.”

Katakans– A subspecies of Vampires were a formidable foes in the games. They were annoyingly agile and possessed their cousin– The bruxas’ ability to go invisible. What irritated me even more was the little teleportation trick they had. It was never explained if that inherent racial trait was true teleportation or not, but as a Magus who specialized in Temporal-Spatial Magecraft, the fact that these motherfuckers could do it so effortlessly aggravated me.

It's why I had decided to harvest Hubert’s mutagens first above all else. His mutagens might give me some insights into the katakans’ racial traits.

What? Why wasn’t I angry at Ciri?

Ciri was different, the Witcheress was the ‘Chosen One’, destined to stop the apocalyptic White Frost. She was the only surviving Child of the Elder Blood, the others had either died young due to their overwhelming magical might, or perished under someone’s blade and spells. She was the exception, but the katakans? How? Why?! What could have possibly led to such an evolutionary trait on a species-wide scale?!

I could understand if they developed bats or blood-related abilities, but there was no logical explanation to their teleportation ability.

None whatsoever.

Was it petty of me? Maybe. I didn’t care, I wanted– Nay, needed their mutagens.

“I suppose I have to thank you, you’ve saved me from having to track you down, little Sorcerer. Your corpse will–?!”

I bolted at Hubert, Invictus lashing at the katakan’s legs. It vanished in a flickering blue silhouette, reforming behind me as it swung its claws at my exposed back. I made a fingers-gun, aimed its square at the hulking katakan’s bulging chest and started blasting [Finn Cannon]. It stumbled back, screeching as fleshy pieces were blown off its frame. It flashed again, this time away to recover from the blows.

But, it severely underestimated my [Finn Shot]. The nature of [Finn Shot] was to cause illness, which oftentimes took the form of headache and nausea. While it had brought itself out of harm’s way, as several more [Finn Shots] blasted the furniture behind where it once stood, it had also aggravated its sickness. The beast keeled over, clutching its stomach as blood and bile spurted out of its gaping maws.

“You!” It spat angrily, milky-white eyes narrowing. “I’m going to tear the skin off your throat, filthy Sorcerer!”

Oh, did I mention ol’ Hubert’s goals in murdering innocent people? He supported the Eternal Flame’s causes, despite being a vampire. He hated all magical species, and believed that prostitutes were filthy and sinful for selling their bodies. It was the dumbest fucking reason to turn to murders, but the bastard genuinely believed he was doing the right thing… ‘Talk about drinking the Kool-Aid. No, he’s not drinking. He’s chugging at this point.’

I beckoned it with a smile. Hubert Rejk never had a chance to defeat me in the first place. I outclassed him– It in every aspect, physical and magical. I could have ended it right now, [Longsword Of Silence], combined with [Petal Burst] and [Reinforcement] could easily break hypersonic speed, it wouldn’t even know how it had died. Yet, I wanted to play with it. I wanted to show the beast just how futile its efforts were.

The sound of crossbow’s string snapping echoed, and suddenly Hubert found a crossbow bolt sticking out of its left right. It roared, wrenching the foreign object from its bleeding socket. It stared at Joachim, its face, in spite of its horrific countenance, displayed disbelief and pain of betrayal vividly. “Joachim, why?!”

The aged man remained silent, his expression hard and unmoving, but I could see he was feeling incredibly pained, even more so than Hubert Rejk. The old man seemed to age a decade within seconds as he loaded another bolt.

“I’m a healer, I won’t stand back and let you kill this young man, not if I can help it. Sorcerer or not.” The katakan snarled, prowling forward with murder in its eyes, its pointy rows of teeth flashing ominously under the flickering candles. “They’re sinners! Those whores, this little bastard–”

“Hey! I resent that. My parents were happily– Well, not happily, but they were married. If anyone’s a bastard, it’s you, you ugly piece of shit.” I cut in, launching Invictus at Hubert as it groaned. The beast was nailed straight in the throat, its oversized claws struggling to rip out the offending weapon as blood surged up its mouth. Joachim shot a second bolt, piercing its arm. “If anyone’s a sinner, it’s you teacher. I’ve never cared about your nature, however monstrous it may appear, but…”

“You- You knew?”

Joachim sighed.

“How could I not? You taught me everything I know back in the Academy… At first, I thought I was mistaken, but the more we interacted, the more my suspicion grew. But, I never expected you of all people would, could be responsible for these attacks.”

His eyes moistened. “What happened to you Hubert? Why, why did you do it? Explain to me!”

“They’re sinners, Joachim. Monsters, I did as I must, punish so others would not follow in their examples. The Eternal Flame is right, even I am nothing but an abomination of nature. I should have never existed–“ Hubert pushed forth until Invictus was no longer lodged in its throat. Its muscles and bones barely hanging on and keeping its head connected to its body. Alright, I wasn’t going to lie, that shit was metal. “Once my mission is finished, I’ll take my own life to atone for my sins.”

“You won’t have to.” I replied in Joachim’s place, seeing as he was still speechless from Hubert’s ridiculous ideal. “You won’t get out of here alive, katakan.”

Invictus vanished in a rain of golden particles. Hubert, realizing something was wrong, snapped its head back so fast I could have sworn I heard its spine crack and buckle from the sudden force. That was all I needed, in that millisecond when the beast was distracted, I launched at it, Invictus cleaving its legs clean off with the same precision it had afford its victims.

Legless, Hubert fell down with a loud thud.

Even with its Supernatural regenerative healing factor working desperately to keep it alive, Hubert knew it was a goner.

Its regeneration would focus on its throat, which was considered the more severe injury, leaving it utterly helpless against my next attack. And even if it could control where its body would focus on first, there was no way it could heal its severed legs in minutes, let alone the few seconds I’d need to end its life. I turned to Joachim. “Do you have any burning coal? Can you bring me some, I need it for… Reasons.”

“Why?” The old man croaked, silently gazing at his former teacher amidst my chuckles. “Well, I’m a sucker for poetic justice. Since Hubert here likes to cut out his victims’ eyes and shove burning coals down their throats, it would only be right that he too gets to suffer the same fate, don’t you agree? See how he likes it with burning coals in his throat.”

“No! He might have done evils, but that doesn’t mean he should stoop to his level.” He said firmly and I shrugged. “Take all the funs right out of it, why don’t you.”

He continued to stare at me. “Enough, take what you need to collect his prize Sorcerer, but do not torture him for your sick brand of justice.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t see him insulting his good ol’ teacher for killing innocent prostitutes who were just trying to make a living, but the second I wanted to make him suffer a bit, I was the monster? Double-standards much? A brown, leather bag appeared in my hand as I looped off the katakan’s head in one swing. “Fine, you happy, old man?”

I shoved the head into the bag. That’s all I needed, the head alone should contain all the mutagens and genetic make-up necessary for my research. With my prize secured, I approached Joachim, who still stood over the deceased, headless carcass of his teacher. A flare of my Mana, and his mind was soon captured by [Mesmerize]. “You will not tell anyone, especially the witch hunters and Eternal Flame fanatics about what happened here, understood?”

He nodded soullessly. “If anyone asks, you’ll tell them Hubert Rejk has left Novigrad to take care of his ailing parents, and the katakan was already here when you returned from the herbalist, got it?”

Once I had made sure to tie up all loose ends, I waved the old man goodbye. “Let’s never cross paths again, Joachim von Gratz.”

Now that that’s done, time to hunt down the succubus. Not sure what inherent abilities succubi had, but it’s never a bad idea to hoard more mutagens.

Maybe I could figure out a method to combine lesser mutagens to make greater ones.

So long as I kept my race as human to appease the Golden Queen, I didn’t think she would have much problems with me augmenting myself with a chimeric mutations.

I supposed Triss Merigold could wait.

I had much to do in Novigrad still.

——◇  [Fate: DML] ◇——

Ciri returned to Hierarch Square not quite empty-handed.

She had found Dandelion, and while he also wasn’t sure where Triss was hiding, the bard had proposed they contact Whoreson Junior, otherwise known as Cyprian Wiley to break Leonis’ Curse and fix the phylactery in her possession. She hadn’t told the younger Sorcerer yet, but his Curse wasn’t the only one needed to be broken.

Her friend and mentor in magic, Avallac’h– An Elven Sage, had been struck with a particularly powerful Curse by their pursuer, Eredin – King of the Wild Hunt. He had managed to fight off its effects so far, but he wouldn’t be able to hold on for long. That’s why she had wanted to find Triss, she thought the older woman would have a solution to their problems. She didn’t expect the Sorceress to be much in the same situation as her, in hiding and pursued by her enemies.

Only difference was Triss was hiding from humans, while Ciri was running from the Elves of Aen Elle and their king. She trusted and loved Triss, but she didn’t want to put her problems on the redhead’s already fairly large pile. It wouldn’t be right.

Which’s why Dandelion proposed an alternative. Whoreson Junior was not a Sorcerer, but he had connections, connections that would be of much help to them, and all they had to pay were coins. They hadn’t contacted the man, but that’s what Dandelion said, and as flimsy as the bard could be, he was one of the few Ciri could truly put her trust in.

“Where are you, Leonis?” The Witcheress whispered as she searched the square for her young Sorcerer friend. There was still no sign of him, even after the sun had gone completely down. She was growing anxious when a drunkard approached her position. No, not drunkard. His movements were odd, but they were too jerky to be that of a drunk. “Ci- Ciri?”

He seemed almost in pain as he croaked. Ciri replied, the tension in her chest bubbling to the surface as she discreetly reached for her sword. “Yes?”

“Le- Le- Leonis said he has found the red Fox a- and to meet him at the crooked house in the- the Bits district. He- He’ll be w- waiting.” The smelly peasant slumped on his knees, as though a puppet with its strings cut off. Ciri grabbed his shoulders. “Wait, did Leonis send–?”

He rubbed his bleary eyes in confusion, his breath stinking of alcohol and his movements turned smooth, yet slow. With the message delivered, the magic too disappeared, having achieved its purpose. All that’s left was a shell of a man, who was too drunk to finish a sentence. The drunkard slurred. “Wha- Whast? Where- Where am Isssh? Who, are- are cha’ a whore? Why aren’tcha doing your–?!”

Ciri sucker-punched the rude drunkard into unconsciousness as she slinked into the crowds. It didn’t take that long for her to find the crooked house. While Novigrad was a large city, there weren’t many houses that looked like it had weathered three different storms in the last month. The Witcheress skipped over to the house, knocking on its shabby, yet structurally-sound door. Despite the outside appearance, it seemed whoever owned the place was quite concerned with security issue.

“Who’s it?!” A shrill, aged voice called out from behind the safety of the door, and Ciri answered. “My name’s Ciri, Ciri of Cintra. Please, tell the two who are staying in your house I’m looking for them.”

It took a while, but the door finally opened to show Leonis with a smirk on his face. “Hello there, Warrior Princess. How are you doing?”

“You tell her to come to our house?! What if she’s followed? The witch hunters will hang us for–” The older woman screamed at him. Leonis turned to her, staring emotionless at the woman before fishing out a pouch full of coins and slapping it on the nightstand near the door. “C- Coins aren’t the problem, there might–!?”

He took out a second pouch, throwing it on the table and Ciri could almost see the woman’s will weakening. “I- I- I…” A third, and a fourth, then the fifth appeared. This time, the woman no longer had any objection, gesturing at the Witcheress politely to come inside. “Please, please come inside, Ms. Ciri.”

Then, she scampered away to her room, but not before snatching the pouches as if fearing the Sorcerer would change his mind. In spite of everything, Ciri couldn’t help bursting out in laughter. “… That- That works too?”

In response, the Sorcerer lectured patronizingly. “Ciri, in life, everyone has a price. You just have to find the correct one to tempt them with. For this couple, it’s money. They’ve spent their entire lives slaving away, how could they resist when I’m offering them five pouches of coins?”

He paused in contemplation, and for a moment, Ciri was afraid that something’s wrong, but then he opened his mouth and she could no longer resist the urge to punch his arm. “Did it look cool though? That’s the first time I’ve tried to bribe my problems away… It looks cool, right? Ouch! What was that for?!”

“For being an idiot, leaving me to wait for an hour straight and sending an ill-mannered drunkard to convey your message. He called me a whore, you know?” She replied matter-of-factly, faux indignation on her face as the Sorcerer rubbed where she had punched him. “So, I heard you found Triss. Where’s she?”

She glanced at him. “You did find her, right? Or did I misunderstand the message?”

“What? Not even a hug for all my troubles?” Ciri rolled her eyes. “Fine, do whatever you want. She’s upstairs, working on a way to break my Curse. In the meantime, she said I could borrow a few of her books to kill time.” He pointed up. “You should go up, she’s expecting you. Looked real excited when she heard you’re in town. I had to physically hold her back from running out in search of you. It would’ve been pretty bad if the witch hunters saw her.”

Ciri made for the stairs. “I’ll talk to her, see you in a second?”

The young Sorcerer didn’t reply verbally, but he did send her a silent nod as he returned to his books.

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