The Divine Hunter

The witchers walked alongside each other on their way back. “So you made a pact with the nymph?”

“Letho, that’s Vivienne, the Lady of the Lake. She granted me the honor of being her knight because of…” Roy still thought that the whole event was bizarre. “…the trial of the five virtues.”

“Nymphs and the Lady of the Lake appear often in folklore, and they are amicable to witchers, but I don’t understand.” Letho looked at Roy curiously. “Why’d she choose a fledgling witcher like you to be her knight? So what should I call you now? Roy of the Lake of Vizima?”

“You mean like Geralt of Rivia, Letho of Gulet?” Roy thought about it and shook his head. “Just call my name.” He wasn’t obsessed with his title anyway.

Letho nodded, and he stared at Roy. “You attract women easily. You’re still young, but you’re already entangled with a few now.”

“Entangled?” Roy shook his head. “She’s just my employer.”

“Is that so? Good. Women can be really troublesome. If you get entangled, you’ll never be at peace for as long as you live,” Letho commented, as if speaking from experience. Before Roy could say anything, Letho pulled the crimson blade out of its sheath and ran his finger through the blade. Then he swung it around. “Is this the silver sword she gave you? Doesn’t feel better than the sword the gnomes made. This looks like something you can find in the marketplace.”

“Only those who are acknowledged by the Lady of the Lake can use this sword to its full extent. Regrettably, you’re not on that list.”

“I am not doing this for you, boy.” Letho caressed the ring, and satisfaction flashed within his eyes. “I’ve always wanted something like this, and thanks to you, now I have one.”

Roy turned around and sighed, then he asked, “Does it have a lot of garbage in there?”

“I will tell you once we get rid of Dagon’s projection.”

“Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

***

Princess Adda and her soldiers came to welcome Roy and Letho, but they were disappointed to see that they did not have the quarry with them. “Did you fail? Is the traitor that powerful?”

“He is no traitor.” The witchers asked Adda to come with them to somewhere private. She went with them to a quiet corner, and they told her about the Lady of the Lake. Of course, they had the goddess’ permission, though they omitted that Roy was knighted and had Aerondight.

“The Lady of the Lake?” The news came as a shock for Adda. She envied the witcher for encountering such a legendary creature, though she also doubted their story. The story about the Lady of the Lake had existed in Vizima for many years. Those who live there would have inevitably heard about it. “Not long after I regained my body, the teachers in the palace told me about the Lady of the Lake. She is the embodiment of beauty and freedom, and she is the real ruler of Lake Vizima. Decades ago, some inhabitants claimed to have seen her, but we have heard nothing about her lately.

“I thought she is nothing but a figure in the stories those bards made up.” Adda muttered under her breath. “I never would have thought that she was real.” She said, “Roy, if the legends are true, the Lady of the Lake would only summon incredibly virtuous knights. Why did she guide the two of you there?”

Roy knew she had her doubts, and he answered, “Your Highness, I have no reason to deceive you. The Lady of the Lake shares our goal. She wishes to eradicate the evil presence on Black Tern Island, and witchers are perfect for the job.”

Adda took a while to process that, and once she did, her eyes were filled with longing. “I envy your luck, Roy. Do tell me more about the goddess. How beautiful is she?” Mortals were always respectful but curious about gods and deities, and not even royalty was immune to that.

“Is it true that the Lady of the Lake is immortal? Does she never get sick? Does she really live forever?”

“Those aren’t questions we mortals have the right to know the answers to.”

“Roy, that is just…” Adda wasn’t satisfied by Roy’s answers. She bit her lip and requested, “Can you lead me to her then? I wish to see her.”

“My apologies. The Lady of the Lake will not show herself to just anyone.” He lied, “I possess no means to contact her. All I can do is wait for her to summon me.”

“I am the princess of Temeria, Adda the White. Am I not worthy enough to have an audience?”

Roy refused her request. “An audience with her is unrelated to status or position. If she wishes to see you, then you shall be granted an audience.” He then kept on using the Lady of the Lake’s name to persuade Adda to back off. “And she has told me of her will. Letho and I shall finish the quest and vanquish the monster in the lake. Stand back and let us do our job, or the tragedy on the island will happen once more.”

“No,” Adda adamantly refused. “The expedition is halfway done. More than twenty soldiers have given up their lives in this quest, and Jacques is still out there. He might be in grave danger. I will not give up just like this.”

“You have seen how dangerous the island can be. A normal human will face certain doom if they were to venture into the island, and they will even become nourishment for the monster.”

Adda gritted her teeth, and her face was contorted with rage, but in the end, she relented. “Very well, then. As you wish, Roy, but there is one matter I wish to settle. If the deserter isn’t the traitor, then the one who told the fallen vodyanoi about our plans must be one of the villagers. I must find him and avenge my fallen soldiers. He must be punished.”

***

“Stop getting any ideas, kid. Wilt might be smart, but he can’t speak human tongue. Let’s go. Time for the same old routine. Wheedle out some suspects and cast Axii on them.”

Wilt craned its neck happily and licked Roy’s face.

Letho was watching as Roy and Wilt conversed in silence, and he finally started considering something serious. “Did the trial damage his head or something?”

***

A field stood two miles north of Brickmasters’ village, and a dingy thatched house resided on it. A hunched man stood before the house, looking left and right. Once the man had confirmed that he was alone, he scurried into the house. It was a stark house that only contained a thin bed and cutlery.

The man huffed and puffed as he pulled the cracked floor open, then he dragged a thatched package out of a cramped cellar. With his trembling hands, he brought the package closer to his old, wrinkled face, and he closed his eyes as he stuck his nose to the package and took in its scent. When he sighed, his tense muscles eased up, and an ugly grin cracked on his face, as if he just smelled the most delectable food in these lands.

As he popped the greyish-white flesh between his lips, he started licking it furiously, unwilling to relinquish even an ounce of flavor, however disgusting it might be. Eventually, the flesh’s flavor ran out, and he slowly but reluctantly put it in his mouth. However, the man did not allow the flesh to travel down his throat. Instead, he let the piece of flesh stay in his mouth for as long as he wished to. The man sat quietly on the ground, enjoying the taste of flesh that lingered within his mouth. He was unmoving, not unlike a statue.

Suddenly, the front door creaked open, and before the old man could do anything, he felt something cold and dangerous sticking to the back of his neck. Then, a terrifying voice asked, “Tell me, you traitorous scum, how do you wish to die?”

***

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