The Divine Hunter

Sunlight shone upon a patch of alder woods. A bald, burly man in sleeveless leather armor crouched over the ground, holding a plant with elongated, bluish-purple leaves and a corolla shaped like lips. He shot the apprentice alchemists a questioning look.

“Verbena. Perennial vascular plant. Commonly found in the wilderness.” The light of knowledge shone within the eyes of a blond-haired girl. “Can be crushed and used to stop itching, repel insects, and make antitoxins.”

“Good job, Vicki. I see you haven’t slacked off.”

“Can’t you let us have one, Vicki?” A freckled girl stomped her foot, her braids swaying in the air. And she swung her friend’s hand around. “You’ve gotten five questions right. Consecutively. At least give Conrad and me a chance.”

Conrad was a beautiful and fair-skinned boy, and he stared at the ground sheepishly.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll leave the next one for you.” Vicki smiled.

“No need to apologize.” Letho shot Renee a stern look. “Take a page out of Vicki’s book. If you didn’t slack off, you would have known the answers to these questions.”

“But Letho, I’m stupid. I’m not as smart as Vicki.”

“Then all the more reason to work twice as hard. Or do you want to be a farmer instead?”

“Aww…”

“Next question.” Letho whipped out a round, yellowish-brown root. The kids stared at it, but none could recognize it. Not even Vicki. A frown creased her forehead, and she tried to figure out what it was.

“Um… Umm…” Her fists were balled. She noticed the look of anticipation in Letho’s eyes, then she looked at the herb once more. The girl clenched her teeth. “It’s berbercane.”

A hint of disappointment welled in Letho’s eyes. He shook his head and was just about to say the answer, but he never got the chance.

A silvery voice said, “It’s a crow’s eye.”

Letho tensed up and shot up. He looked behind him, while the kids hid behind his back, looking around cautiously.

And then two silhouettes appeared. One was in Manticore armor and had two swords strapped to his back. It was a familiar face. Roy.

But the other was someone the children had never seen before. She was in a green shirt made out of tree bark, her grey hair tumbling down her shoulders. A mistletoe wreath crowned her head, and the lady was slender and as toned as a man.

An oaken staff was strapped to her back, its tip swaying with every step she took. The scent of nature filled the air around her, attracting all nearby bugs. A moth was perched on her hair.

“Crow’s eye. Commonly found in wet, humid places. Improves blood flow and helps with bruises. Can be used to create a substance akin to marigold’s potion.”

The lady was already a couple of yards away by the time she finished explaining. Her face was long, and her skin was fair. Like a dryad, she had green tattoos on her face, but that didn’t cover up her beauty. Even her sweat smelled like fresh grass and old trees.

“Good morning. I am Evelyn of the Skellige Isles, here in Novigrad on a promise. I shall be helping the brotherhood.”

She extended a hand to Letho without fear or fervor, and the veteran witcher shook it.

“Welcome to the House of Gawain. I am Letho, and these are my apprentices in alchemy: Vicki, Renee, and Conrad.”

The children gave her friendly, curious smiles, and she smiled back at them. The druid signaled to them that she came in peace.

Letho shot Roy a look, and the young witcher nodded. “Come with me. Everyone will be excited to see you.”

***

The other witchers told their apprentices and students to stay put while they went to the conference hall for a welcoming session.

A short introduction later, Evelyn found herself to be the center of attention of these witchers, and she frowned.

‘Evelyn

Age: Forty-two years old

Gender: Female

Status: Druid

HP: 150

Mana: 160

Strength: 14

Dexterity: 13

“Second, I will not allow any interruptions to my work unless there’s reason enough. Any interruption will affect my workflow.” She looked at Lambert and Auckes, seemingly seeing through them.

And the witchers grinned nervously.

“Hear that, mate?” Aiden shot Lambert a look. “She’s talking about you. Don’t say anything stupid, and keep that affection of yours in check.”

“Ahem. This is a misunderstanding, Evelyn.” Auckes and Lambert exchanged a dry smile. And they promised, “We mean you no harm. All we wish is for you to feel welcome.”

“Your passion burns hot enough to turn an oak into cinders. Nature prefers balance, and I prefer a quieter work space.”

The witchers nodded sheepishly and kept quiet.

“Will you be accepting any questions regarding alchemy or herbology then?” Kiyan asked hoarsely, his eyes shining with an almost blinding gleam.

Evelyn straightened out her crown. She then looked at Kiyan and smiled. “I will answer anything regarding nature.”

***

“Third, I believe Mousesack has brought up the creed of druids. I cannot do anything that goes against that creed, and you will not force me into it either, or the contract is void.”

“We do not go back on our word. You can rest easy, Evelyn.”

“That is all, then. I hope we’ll have a happy five years together.” Evelyn smiled, but that smile was quickly replaced by a stern look. “Now let’s talk business. How would you like the garden to be? The size, the type of plants you want it to contain…”

“We were going to take you on a tour around the orphanage.”

“There will be time for that.”

“Very well.” Letho beckoned her. “Then come with me.”

Everyone left the conference hall. Most of the witchers returned to their positions, while Letho, Roy, and the apprentice alchemists led the druid into the woods. About a hundred yards later, they arrived at a two-acre land cordoned off by a circle of wooden fence.

Most of the weeds were crushed, and the soil was tilled, waiting to be planted with seeds. The corners of the place were littered with two dozen common herbs, including arenarias, ribleaves, white myrtles, and marigolds.

Evelyn went around the land, her frown deepening, and she pursed her lips. “I thought you’d prepare a house or at least a cave. This is your idea of a garden?”

“Every herb has a different taste for habitat. Some prefer darker places, some require the sun. We’re amateurs. If we tried setting up a garden without the know-how, we’d end up doing more harm than good.” Letho shook his head. “We thought we’d wait for a professional to tell us what they need. Then we can start planning. We have five years to work with, after all.”

“You have a point.” Evelyn extended her arm, her fingers weaving through the air. She felt the humidity around her and scooped up a handful of soil. It was then crushed, and she mused, “This makes the cut. Barely. Half a month of cultivation and it should be good enough to house about fifty types of herbs. But first, we need a greenhouse. A good one. The roof must be made of crystal that can filter the sun’s harmful parts out. And the walls need to be at least half a meter thick. But you don’t need to do anything about the ceiling. I’ll make a plant-based one with magic.”

The witchers and the kids nodded and made a mental note of the requirements. All of them were raring to go to work.

“And we’ll need a pond for aquatic plants.”

Evelyn listed out a dozen requirements, most of them for herbs that required different habitats. Eventually, the framework of their greenhouse started to come alive.

Letho whipped out a small pouch from his bag of decoctions. “We foraged about two dozen rare herbs’ seeds. Here.”

The witchers hand-picked these herbs. They could be used to make decoctions.

Evelyn weighed the pouch in her hand and poured the seeds out. Her eyes glimmered, and she sniffed them. “Blood moss, buckthorn, allspice, mandrake… They make the cut. And they can survive in this habitat. But here’s a bonus.”

She spun the amber on her staff around and whipped out a pile of seeds. The children looked at them curiously, and she smiled at them. “A few rare plants from the isles. Perfect for the greenhouse. A meeting gift, so to speak.”

“Thank you.”

“One last question.” She strapped the staff behind her back and wiped the sweat off her forehead. Solemnly, she asked, “Why do you wish to make a garden of rare plants? I need an honest answer.”

Letho tapped the ground with his boots. “To be honest, there’s only one reason a witcher needs herbs—to make healing potions and decoctions we can use in combat.”

Roy said seriously, “Evelyn, we’re no conservationists, nor are we druids. We have no obligation to conserve rare plants.”

Evelyn froze.

But then Roy said, “But as long as it doesn’t hurt the brotherhood, we can work with you and come up with a plan to conserve these plants. It’ll be the minimum, though.”

Evelyn’s eyes shone, and she extended her hand, “In the name of nature, I shall assist the brotherhood in the establishment of this garden.”

***

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