The Divine Hunter

Geralt stared at the skies, where the purple light of dawn was starting to shine through. He could see the silhouette of The Collector’s mansion standing nearby, and he thought back to what happened the night before. “Thank you for everything you did for Jaskier.”

“So you’ve met him.”

“Auckes took us to the apothecary shop last night, and then we saw a show in the ballroom.” There was a smile on Geralt’s lips. He was happy for his friend.

“He’s already thirty years old, but the guy just won’t settle down. Flirts with everyone, from a noble’s daughter to a laundress. Professes his love for almost every young lady he runs into. Like Lambert, he frequently sleeps with someone else’s woman. I spent a long time worrying if he might fall from a balcony and die during an escape from a particularly furious husband. But now he has a job he loves, and it’s all thanks to your investment.”

“You give him too little credit.” Roy smiled. “Even if he can’t survive Novigrad, he can always get a job at Oxenfurt Academy. He’s talented enough for that. And we’re not helping for free. The ballroom is making a profit, and we’re taking most of it. But most importantly, Dandelion and his friend can turn witchers’ infamy around. It works in our favor, especially when we’re trying to open up an orphanage.”

The Wolves exchanged a look. They were starting to approve of their new leader, who was also a clairvoyant.

***

The fat guard in a green robe took one look at Felix and bowed to the witchers as he opened the steel gates. “Master Orloff has been waiting, witchers. Come with me, please.”

A servant led the witchers across a garden filled with tall trees and decked out with a fountain in the center. They eventually entered a mansion with a triangular roof and colorful walls.

“You sure they work for the Collector? Feels like they work for you.” Lambert gave Felix a look of surprise. All the guards in the manor wouldn’t even meet Felix’s gaze. It felt like they were mice who saw a big cat.

“I’ve been training these fools for two months.” Felix grinned toothily, his eyes glinting. “They know what happens if they get on my bad side.”

The manor was lavishly decorated. The ground was covered in exotic Ofir rugs, and oil paintings, antiques, and porcelain items stood everywhere for everyone to see. Despite the size of the house, there weren’t a lot of servants around. The Collector preferred a quieter environment, it seemed.

When they came to the second floor, they were met with a pale, handsome, purple-haired man with a mustache sitting behind his desk, going through a bunch of files and accounts. He seemed to be in a rut.

A star-shaped pendant hung before his chest, and he was wearing a silk robe, while nearly ten magical rings clung around his fingers. Compared to a month ago, the Collector looked a lot more listless, and dark circles hung beneath his eyes.

He noticed someone looking at him, and the Collector raised his head. When he saw who it was, a smile broke out on his weary face. The man waved his servants away. “Friends, witchers. It’s been a month, and you still look as dashing as ever.” He happily approached the witchers and shook their hand.

Rather than a ruler of Novigrad, the Collector felt like more of a friend. “And these are?” He turned his attention to the new faces.

“Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert of the Wolf School. They just came to Novigrad,” Felix explained. “They’re one of us now. We just gained three more members for our alliance.”

“Best news I’ve heard recently. Our alliance’s roots are gaining more ground. Even if they know I’ve replaced the real Collector, the Eternal Fire can’t hunt me down openly now.” The Collector’s excitement was almost palpable. He kept staring at the Wolves like a cat who smelled fish.

Eventually, his gaze became a little too much for the Wolves. You sure this guy is a doppler?

The Collector noticed the looks on his guests’ faces, and he quickly massaged his temples. “Sorry. The guy was a perverted mage, so I inherited some of his more unsavory parts. Disgusting ideas pop into my mind the moment I see new things. Including humans.”

“It’s alright, Orloff. We know how dopplers work. Don’t apologize.” Lambert shrugged.

“We’re friends here. Call me Gawain or Samsa. That’s my real name.” Gawain waved it off.

“You don’t look too good, Gawain.” Roy plopped down onto the sofa. “So, what happened over the last month?”

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I live in a manor and eat the best things this land has to offer every day. It’s a lot better than my old life.” Gawain smiled, but there was a hint of bitterness in his eyes. There was a price to pay when it came to a life of luxury. “But honestly, upper society isn’t as easy as it seems. I have to check on every single estate and land I have. And the reports are just endless. Everyone just keeps inviting me to this ball and that party every single day. Blacksmith association, merchant association, town hall, other gangs… If there are thirty days in a month, I can go to thirty different events hosted by thirty different organizations. I’d be gone if you came two hours later.”

“Can’t you refuse some of it? Or just let your assistant handle them?” Roy asked.

“I did, but refusing these invitations too much is bound to raise some eyebrows. I don’t trust anyone but you either. Everyone else might realize something’s wrong with me and tell the Eternal Fire about it.”

The Collector put his hands behind his back and shook his head. He was still wary about the church that had hunted him for most of his life. “I have to hang on no matter what.”

“Guess the burden comes with the luxury.” Auckes let out a sigh as well.

“Alright, everyone’s here now, so let’s talk business,” Letho said. “We’re told you found three potential spots for the orphanage?”

“But the kids are illiterate.” Gawain rubbed his chin. “I’ll have to hire a teacher for them, then.”

“Hardly necessary,” Roy said. “Aside from me, everyone else is old enough to be someone’s grandfather. They know the Northern Kingdom’s Common Speech, Nilfgaardian tongue, and even Elder Speech. They’re experienced enough to be the kids’ teachers.”

“You’re going to teach them how to read as well?”

It was an important part in building rapport.

Lambert’s lips twitched. He was a little disgruntled. I’m only in my fifties. Not like there’s a big generational gap between us. How come I’m also a grandfather?

Gawain nodded.

“And then we’re gonna talk about the Almanac of Creatures. It includes all kinds of dangerous beasts and monsters,” Serrit continued. “It’ll come in really handy if they want to survive the wilds. And that’s about it for their basics.”

“I still hope you’ll teach them something common folk do. At least it’s a surefire way to help them in the future.” Gawain suggested, “Like farming and husbandry.”

“Well, how about this? We turn a few patches of land around the orphanage into farmlands and ask the kids to spend some time farming every day,” Roy said. “And we’ll give every kid one chick from the moment they join the orphanage. They’ll be required to feed the chicks until they become chickens.”

Gawain froze for a moment. The kids can train their body, learn how to read, and practice farming and husbandry at the same time? It sounded like a perfect plan, but he thought something was off. “And here’s the crucial question. Witcher mutation is unpredictable and dangerous. How can you guarantee the children who undergo the mutation willingly survive it?” Gawain asked. “We cannot allow the orphanage to be the poor children’s grave.”

“We won’t let them go through the Trial before we’re sure they can handle it,” Letho explained. It was the promise everyone came up with. “I assure you, we’re raising witchers, not killing children.”

Gawain finally stopped questioning them.

They came to a halt before a forest. Through the little path and some roads they went before they finally entered a clearing surrounded by alders. The witchers were greeted by four dilapidated but spacious wooden houses, and the walls and roofs were made up of whole logs. The houses were surrounded by woods, and sounds of flowing water came from the other side of the forest. This was a decent place for anyone to live.

***

They went around the houses for a better look. The houses were big, and shared bedrooms were already set up. These houses could house about a hundred orphans in total. The beds, sheets, blankets, furniture, and necessities were already prepared. Someone probably cleaned this place before, as it seemed almost spotless.

“Not bad. It’d be perfect if we had some stakes and pendulums here. You must have put a lot of effort into this, Gawain.”

“As long as you’re happy with it.”

“So where are we getting the children?” Geralt asked.

“I’ll tell my men to keep an eye out for vagrant children under ten around Novigrad,” Gawain answered. “And I’ll tell people about the news of the orphanage.”

“Count us in,” Letho offered. “We’ll search for kids as well.”

Gawain nodded. “I’ll send a cook and a correspondent over tomorrow. Just tell the correspondent if you need anything.”

“And what should we call the orphanage?” Letho looked at everyone.

“How does Kaer Morhen sound?” Lambert asked.

“This orphanage belongs to all witchers, not a single school.” Auckes snorted and shook his head.

“We can’t call it House of Witchers either, or that might invite our enemies right over,” Eskel said.

“How about House of Gawain, then?” Roy looked at his companions. “We’re not running this place out of the kindness of our hearts, but Gawain is. He put in time and effort and asked for nothing in return. People should remember him for the deed he’s done.”

And as long as the witchers were teaching the orphans, they were in control of the place. The name was nothing to worry about anyway.

***

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