The Divine Hunter

Roy woke up when the first ray of dawn shone upon the land. He was lying on a haystack, his eyes slightly unfocused. The young witcher stared at his empty right hand. He swore he could still feel Coral there. The smell of roses seemed to be swirling on his fingers still.

But Coral was no longer there. After a night of rowing through the seas, Lytta shoved him into the portal and gave him a parting gift.

He was holding a beautiful tube in his left hand. It was filled with a crimson liquid, and the magic that shone from within was almost palpable, almost like it would shoot out of the tube.

‘Blood essence.

A powerful sorceress’ essence. Filled to the brim with magic.’

***

Lytta was one of the most powerful sorceresses in the brotherhood. Naturally, her blood could temper his Elder Blood, though Roy was surprised that Lytta would put her trust in him, even though she could potentially be cursed and maimed.

Roy was moved. He held the tube and tucked it into his inventory space. “I won’t take this for free. Next time, I’m giving her more surprises.”

***

“Hey, kid. Did you mess around again last night?”

The Vipers surrounded Roy the moment he came down. They wanted all the details. Letho was displeased, while Serrit and Auckes were eager to know what went down.

“What did that hag do to you? Why are you so attracted to her?”

Roy rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. “Don’t give me that! I’m not some guy who’d spend all my time on a woman. We talked about business the whole night, and I had to work my butt off to convince her, but convince her I did. She’ll come to Novigrad in two days and talk about Carl’s Trial. And she’ll check up on Kiyan’s wounds.”

Auckes and Serrit’s smiles froze, while Letho looked away awkwardly.

They were a lot older than Roy, but they couldn’t help the Cats as much as Roy could, and that fact embarrassed them.

“I see the sorceress is useful.” Auckes scratched his nose and patted Roy’s shoulder. “Try to keep her happy as long as you can, Roy. Get her on our side, no matter what it takes. We need a sorceress we can trust if we want to expand.”

“We have a powerful ally, and it’s up to you to keep her around. If we need any magical help down the line, you’re going to call her. It’ll save us a lot of money,” Serrit analyzed.

“I know what I’m do… Wait, what do you mean ‘keep her happy’? And she’s not some sort of cheap sorceress we can summon anytime we want!”

“Kid, you have dark circles under your eyes, and you look like a ghost. Obviously you’ve been working hard, and you need replenishments. We’re going to make some spirit potions for you just in case.”

The Vipers scurried off, and Roy sighed.

“I can ask you the same question.” Roy stared back at the hulking man. “If I remember correctly, this house belongs to a man named Frank,” he said coldly.

He’s a mercenary, and a tough one at that. Guy must be trying to attack Frank.

The man shook his head and stared at the canal behind the witcher. He moaned sadly, “I don’t know who you are, but if you’re looking for the geezer, you’re too late. He’s been dead for five years. I’m the only guy in this place.”

Roy was perceptive enough to know he wasn’t lying, and he heaved a sigh of disappointment. “I came bringing regards from an old friend of Frank’s. One-Eyed Jack says hello. I guess I’m one step too late.”

“You mean the one-eyed widower who used to run a ship in Cintra before he settled down in Aedirn? The avid Gwent card collector?” The man sounded a little intrigued.

“In Skellige, to be precise.”

“Ah, I guess my memory is muddied. Come in then, my friend,” the man beckoned.

Roy followed him into the house, and then he frowned. The air was filled with the stench of sweat and rotten food, and the young witcher felt like gagging. Smells like socks that’ve been left out for days and moldy bread.

Like most middle-aged men who achieved nothing in their lives, Todd’s house’s floor was covered in dust and strewn with unwashed cutlery. There was a worn-down sofa covered with laundry and a mountain of empty wine bottles.

The man plopped down on the sofa and shoved the laundry onto the floor, revealing a spot covered in brown patches.

“I’ll just stand.”

“Suit yourself.” Todd shrugged it off and forced a smile, but it didn’t erase the sadness lingering between his wrinkles. “How’s Jack doing? Still well? Can he run around like he used to?”

“Of course. He’s as healthy as ever. Even killed a few wolves, but that was a year ago, and it’s been a while since I went back to Lower Aedirn.” Roy looked around. A rickety wooden staircase led to the second floor, where a few smaller rooms stood.

“I’m Todd, Frank’s son. I’m a mercenary who just came back to Novigrad a while ago.”

Roy shook his hand. “Roy of the Viper School.”

Todd froze for a moment. He narrowed his eyes, and then delight came over him. He stood up, shivering with excitement. “I should have known. Golden feline eyes, lean, muscular body. So you’re a witcher!”

Roy thought his reaction was interesting. Most people wouldn’t even smile at him when they knew what he was. Todd, however, was overjoyed. There’s only one reason for that.

“Fate must have arranged this meeting, Roy.” Todd’s face shone with hope. “I heard that witchers possess unimaginable powers, and one of them being the ability to track. They say you can track people down better than any hound can.”

“And? What are you trying to say?” Roy crossed his arms and nodded. I can smell a request coming my way.

***

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