The Divine Hunter

For three days Roy rowed his boat upon the icy waters, and he finally arrived at the eastmost isle—Hindarsfjall. Hindarsfjall was the smallest isle in Skellige, made up of a few villages, bushes, and a few forests.

Still, this quiet isle was the source of the isles’ culture. Altars for Freya were erected everywhere, and a beautiful temple sat in the center of the isle, towering atop a long flight of stairs. Verdant ferns crawled across the walls, accompanied by common ivy and Boston ivy. A falcon was perched atop the overhand, dozing off. It was perhaps a sacred animal answering the call of the goddess.

A sacred garden circled the temple, flowers in full bloom all year around, and the small trees were beautifully trimmed. Underneath the dazzling sun and within the temple of life, young priestesses in long white robes were spread across the yard, feeding chickens, tilling the fields, or chatting with the believers and tourists. A few local guides stood by their side, accompanying them.

The believers of Freya residing in faraway Kovir and Poviss had gone into a long-term agreement with the priestesses. The priestesses would provide tour packages to the people of Kovir and Poviss at reasonable prices.

Roy realized that at this point in time, the infamous, cruelest pirate ever known to this land, Morkvarg, hadn’t landed on this island just yet. The pirate had yet to destroy the temple and kill the priestesses. He still was not yet cursed to live his life as a wolf, plunged into eternal hunger.

Everything was in a serene peace, but he wasn’t here for that. The witcher left the temple and swiftly came to the village of Lofoten. Triss told him that Ortolan was hiding in that village.

The village was surrounded by a wooden fence, housing about three dozen stark wooden houses. It was still morning, and the men were out fishing at sea, leaving the women in the yard, drying the fish under the sun. Some were out with wooden buckets doing laundry, their skin tan, their muscles as taut as men’s.

The elderly were on their rattan chairs, basking in the sun, and the brats were running around with their dogs.

The villagers tending to the carrots noticed the witcher, but they were used to eccentric tourists anyway, so the sight of Roy did not faze them one bit.

While Roy was observing the village, a young man with the pelt of a red fox around his neck approached him. He had a stubble, and a smile hung from his lips. “By Freya! Good morning, good sir. Might you need a guide? I’ll give you the best price. I’ll take you around the isle and enjoy the best sceneries this place has to offer. We can visit the temple and pray to the goddess herself. If you’d like, we can feast on the local delicacies. All that for two crowns a day.”

Roy looked at the young man, musing over his options. Triss had no idea if Ortolan had taken an alias, so he had to search for the man himself. “Then we’ll start from Lofoten. Care to talk about the villagers? Every household if possible.”

Surprise flashed in the young man’s eyes.

“I’m Linus Pitt, a professor of social relations and environmental biology in Oxenfurt Academy.” Roy lied as naturally as he breathed. “I’m very interested in the isles’ culture, the locals’ way of life, and how their family units work.”

“You’re a professor from the academy?” The young man was shocked. A professor in a black cloak and walks around like a shadow? You look more like a mercenary than a scholar.

“I am currently researching the relationships in the family units on Skellige, the islanders’ eating habits, and the numbers of the precious bluefin tuna. I’ve recently finished my research on Undvik. Talked to the blacksmiths from Clan Tordarroch, and it’s not a pretty picture.”

“Stop!” The young man was starting to get dizzy. As if he was put under a great spell, he obliged Roy’s request. “Very well, Professor Linus Pitt. For two crowns, I’ll take you on a tour around the isle.”

***

Krott cleared his throat and pointed at the house on his left. There were two trees in the yard. “This is the abode of the most esteemed person in Lofoten, the head priestess of Freya—Uva. The head priestess has devoted her whole life to the service of the goddess, never marrying or having children of her own. She spends her day praying for the people of Hindarsfjall. A wonderful and respectable woman.”

Roy looked at the white robes hanging from a rope in the yard. “Everyone on this island worships Freya?”

Krott gave the ‘professor’ a weird look. A professor asking that question? But he kept up his smile. “Of course, professor. Otkell, the ancestor of the islanders, ran into a storm while he was at sea. Death almost claimed him, but Modron, in all her magnanimity, granted him a set of pipes. He blew on them, and the storm died, allowing him passage to this very land we stand on. It was here he procreated, and the people of Skellige were born. Since then, my brethren have put their faith in Freya.”

The respect in Krott’s eyes was replaced by disdain. “Disbelieving the goddess is akin to treason. People like those have turned their backs on their very own ancestors. No, they’re no longer human, I say.”

Roy smiled and asked, “I hear Skellige’s fleet often loot and plunder the bountiful temples belonging to other gods. Gods like Melitele and Kreve, for instance.”

Krott grinned toothily. Matter-of-factly, he said, “That’s just the people’s tradition, and Freya’s the only goddess we trust. The other gods mean nothing to us.”

“And if any islander were to blaspheme the goddess?”

“Then they shall suffer the disdain and enmity of their brethren. A curse that torments them for life shall be rained down upon them.”

***

“And this is the house of Lofoten’s blacksmith. Guy’s name is Manshure.”

“How are his skills compared to the Tordarrochs?”

“Oh, you flatter him. Clan Tordarroch is the pride and joy of these isles. Not to insult him, but Manshure can at most sharpen our harpoons, repair the nets, and make some gardening tools.”

***

“This here is Michdi’s house. Has a great wife, he does. Gave him five children at once. Lord Dona an Cinda will provide for her every month until her kids come of age. ‘Tis a reward for her contribution to this isle.”

Krott looked at the kids playing with the mud, envy flaring in his eyes. He then thumped his chest with his right hand and bowed at the yard. “But it’s a pity. Michdi went into battle a few months ago with Lord Crach, aiding our Cintran brethren in their fight against the Nilfgaardian invasion. Never came back since. His remains are defiled by the southern bastards.” Krott solemnly said, “But his soul must have returned to the arms of Freya.”

Roy just remembered that Skellige sent a fleet of drakkars to Cintra during the war, and they sustained heavy losses too. Fewer than one in ten soldiers made it back alive, but even so, he felt barely any sadness coming from the islanders. Perhaps dying in battle wasn’t something to feel too sad about. Just like the Nordlings in Skyrim.

***

Krott led Roy to a rundown house in the east part of the village. The yard was overgrown with weed, gleaming cobwebs hung on the walls, and cracks formed in the wooden walls. This house was obviously abandoned for a long while. “Ortolan used to live in this place.”

“Sorry?” The witcher’s pupils contracted.

“Ortolan used to live in this place.”

“Where did he go, then? If I can find any leads, I’ll leave you to your own devices.”

“He left a year ago without leaving any message to me.” Eva stirred the fish stew in the cauldron as hard as she could, her arms shuddering with rage. She then plopped down on the couch across from the witcher and rested her chin on her clasped hands. Then, as if finding a reason to let her rage flow out of her, she sighed. “Left and never came back.”

“Did he act weirdly before he left?”

Eva was silent for a moment, a hint of struggle flitting through her eyes. “Plunged me in pain and broke my heart as usual.”

“Details?”

Eva was silent. The answer to that question would obviously hurt her. Not even the power of Axii could make her speak. Roy changed the question. “Aside from your home, has he ever gone anywhere else? A usual haunt?”

Since there were no traces of magic in the abandoned abode, then there must be a secret lab on this island somewhere.

“He’d leave the village frequently, probably wandering somewhere out there.” Eva shook her head, resigned.

Roy smacked his forehead. At this rate, I’ll have to scour the whole isle. “Let’s take it from the top. How did you guys meet?” Perhaps I can find some clues if she tells me the whole story.

“It happened two years ago on Ard Skellig. ‘Twas a shining noon. I was pulling up my haul on a boat. Heavy net, and my fingers were killing me, but that was proof I hauled a lot of good stuff. Pushed myself over the hull quite a bit so I could use more strength, but then a wave crashed into me, and I was pulled out into the sea. Fell unconscious and had a dream that I fell to the bottom of the sea. The fishes fed on me, tearing me up until I was nothing but a skeleton.”

Eva shuddered, and she balled her hands into fists, her knuckles turning white. “I should’ve gone back to Freya back then, but then I woke up beside the reef on the coast, throwing up seawater. Ortolan stood before me like a knight in shining armor. He smiled and held the weak little me up, then he draped a warm jacket over me and took me home.”

Eva’s eyes were shining. She was like a teenage girl depicting the man of her dreams, but that was only because Axii was making her drag that memory up. That feeling of love was suppressed by her hatred.

“And then it was a simple love story. Started seeing my savior. He was not young and wasn’t nice to anyone. Spoke in a cold manner, but he was generous. Bought a lot of gifts for me and my family. I could feel that he was genuine. He was probably in love with me.”

Yeah, that’s how sorcerers work. They always ditch their lovers for someone new. Coral’s the exception.

“I married him two weeks after that,” Eva said. “He thought Ard Skellig was too bustling, so he took me to remote Hindarsfjall and settled in Lofoten. The first four months were bliss. We were always together. I could see the love in his eyes, and he did everything I told him to.”

Roy cocked his eyebrow. That’s not how I imagined the mad scientist. He sounded like a man madly in love. “He was with you all the time? Never went around and disappeared on you for days?”

“We spent most of our honeymoon in bed, if you know what I mean.”

Roy’s lips twitched. The old git sure could thrust.

“But happiness didn’t last.” The light in Eva’s eyes dimmed. “Perhaps all men love novelty. After four months, he started disappearing without any reason. At first, he would leave home two days a week, then three days, then he would only come back once a week. I wanted to talk to him. To tell him of my worries, but he always had no time for me. Never had the chance to see him,” Eva complained, the look on her face dark. She looked like a woman who wasn’t satisfied in bed. “Do you even know how that feels, Mr. Pitt?”

Roy shook his head.

Eva tilted her head and complained, “He left me to myself four months into the marriage. Whenever I was alone in bed, I would often wonder where he could be and why he wouldn’t explain anything to me. I would wonder why he wouldn’t respond to my concern and if he had fallen out of love with me. My thoughts overwhelmed me, and I felt lonely, alone, and so, so abandoned. I could scream from how upset I was.”

The woman took a deep breath, pain flaring in her eyes. “I started losing sleep, but even if I did fall asleep, I would have nightmares. I saw scenes too horrifying to even speak of. I was terrified, and I wanted to talk to someone, but he wasn’t home. And then he came back. I thought he would change, but I was horribly wrong. He tormented me even more.”

Eva took another deep breath, despair filling her blue, blue eyes. “He started sleeping around with other women.”

Roy heaved a sigh. How could he hurt a beautiful woman like her, who’s so loyal to him? He was then reminded of what Algernon wrote about Ortolan in his journal, and Roy got his answer. No wonder he’s the cruel Ortolan. Algernon was right about that.

“Who were the other women?” Roy asked, as softly as he could.

“I do not know. I have never seen them before, but a villager—Eji who works at the port in the north—saw him leading a beautiful woman down a tourist’s ship from Lan Exeter, and not just once too. He betrayed me.”

Alright, so I have to get in touch with this Eji guy and find those girls.

“I confronted him when I had the chance, and he said nothing. That was an answer itself. I wanted an explanation, but all he did was smile at me.” She laughed sadly. “And that’s the man I missed. The man I loved. He betrayed me time and time again. My heart hurt. I couldn’t take his betrayal anymore, so I tried to take my own life.”

She pulled her left sleeve up, revealing her porcelain-white arm and an ugly scar on it. Roy’s heart skipped a beat. Wow, she’s devoted to love.

“And then he did something more terrible. I finally saw his true colors and gave up on him.” A long rush of air escaped Eva’s lips. She looked outside the window, where the flowers bloomed. And she choked. “His disappearance is a gift from Freya. The goddess had delivered me from nightmare and pain. My current husband is a caring, honest, and wonderful man. I am happy.”

She teared up and buried her face in her hands, then she started to cry. At the other end of the living room, a baby’s cry came from the cot beside the window, feeling sad for his mother.

Roy shook his head. Ortolan has hurt her. Bad. “Very well. You need some peace and rest. I’ll come back later.” The witcher gave her ten crowns and left the house, the warm sunshine clearing the dark clouds in his heart. First, I’ll find Eji and have him tell me about the prostitutes who got in touch with Ortolan.

“Why do I hear a woman’s cries, Mr. Pitt?” Krott stared at the witcher’s eyes.

“Ortolan hurt her badly. Reliving the past stirred something powerful within her. Now I’ll need you to take me to Eji.”

“The guard working at the port in the north, you mean.”

“That’s him. Lead the way.”

***

***