The Divine Hunter

Chapter 469: Find Them

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

Pallid sunlight shone into the conference room of the orphanage in rural Novigrad. Not a single decoration of the room had changed, but there were two less people in the meeting. And everyone else kept their silence. There was a grim pause hanging in the air.

“Cheer up, people. Things aren’t as glum as you think. There are so many unknowns. It’s not the time to cry.” Lambert slicked his hair back and turned his attention to Geralt, who looked to be in a stupor. “Geralt, I can’t believe you let your Unexpected Child slip through your fingers. Are you getting old?”

“That was carelessness on my part. I was too lenient with Ciri. I should have taken her with me by force.” There was guilt in the White Wolf’s voice. “But I’ve memorized that kidnapper’s face. Left a mark on him. I swear I will take Ciri back from him.”

“Tell us about that mage.” Vesemir sounded a little down. He had always wanted to see Geralt’s Unexpected Child. He liked these orphans, but to the grandmaster, only Unexpected Children were truly loyal to the witcher community.

“Brown hair, glistening eyes, sharp nose, thin lips, about six feet tall. Not fat, but not thin either.” A momentary pause swooped down on Geralt. “Had a zircon talisman and knows a bit of magic. Not a master mage, though.”

“A third-rate mage plunging Geralt of Rivia into so much trouble, he lost his own Unexpected Child?” Lambert asked, his expression exaggerated.

“He’s not only a mage. He’s a decent swordsman too,” Geralt said. “And judging from his attire and the way he moved, I think he must’ve been a spy of some kingdom.”

The conference’s attendees mused over the description for a moment.

Serrit stared at the table solemnly. “We’re assuming the worst-case scenario. That spy might have been Nilfgaardian. Invaders won’t kill off the whole ruling bloodline after they conquer a kingdom. If they did, they’d have to take over a kingdom by force. Convincing the locals to accept new rulership would incur an astronomical cost, and rebellions would appear in droves, especially in kingdoms like Cintra, where the people are quick to temper.”

“But if they were to capture a legitimate heir…” Eskel piped up, “The invaders can make her a puppet ruler and rule the kingdom through her. They’ll have enough reason to loot all the treasures of this kingdom. They couldn’t make Eist or Calanthe submit. Those two would rather kill themselves. But Ciri is young. She’s a good choice to be a puppet queen.”

Felix pushed his sunglasses. “I bet Emhyr’s spy kidnapped Ciri while his army was looting the kingdom after it fell.”

And another stretch of silence fell upon the conference hall, suffocating everyone. If the Nilfgaardian army did take Ciri away, it would be hard to take her back. They couldn’t possibly jump into the sea of soldiers and kill them all.

“Perhaps the knight has taken Ciri down south, where the City of Golden Towers stands. She’s probably on her way to meet Emhyr.” Auckes shook his head, sighing. “Saving her is going to be a hard task.”

“Now that’s just sad talk, people. Remember, we’re just speculating here.” Kiyan shook his head. “Geralt, did you see, with your own eyes, the mage taking Ciri away?”

Geralt shook his head. “I chased after her scent, but the track ended in an underground passageway leading to the city. Someone took her away. On horseback. At this point, I hope that’s the truth.”

The alternative would be Ciri running into the Nilfgaardian-infested, fallen city of Cintra. It was a hellscape too much for a child to handle. “I will find him. Ciri’s my Unexpected Child. She and I are bound by Destiny.” A bright light gleamed in Geralt’s eyes. “And Corinne can help me. Once I find out where she is, I will take her back.”

***

“And now, our second agenda.” Aiden tapped the table lightly, commanding everyone’s attention. “We lost Jerome in the Battle of Marnadal. And I’m sorry to say, we lost yet ano—”

“No!” The usually collected sorceress let out a roar akin to a raging lioness. She turned her attention to the window, where a listless griffin lay. The griffin perked her ears up, staring at the alder woods like a pup waiting for its master’s return. But alas, her wait was rewarded with nothing. The light in her eyes dimmed, and it growled weakly.

“Look at her. Roy once told me she shares an unbreakable bond with him. And Gryphon is still with us. She listens to us. Roy must be alive!” Lytta puffed her chest. She was adamant, yet her voice trembled.

“Calm down, Lytta. We know he’s just missing. We will find him.” Letho hung his head low. He looked calm, but his fists were balled, speaking of the fury and worry he was feeling inside. He then turned his attention to the newcomer—a sorceress with fiery-red hair. Said sorceress was spacing out at the moment. “What happened back there, Triss?”

Lytta looked at Triss, a frown creasing her forehead. She did not like this newcomer.

Triss stared at the ground and took a deep breath. She wanted to argue, but a feeling of pain and guilt welled within her. Fine. For Roy. She nodded in silence.

Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

“And we should find other ways to search for Roy.” The light of wisdom shone in Kiyan’s eyes. “Gryphon shares a bond with him, doesn’t she? We can use that to divine his location.”

“You’re forgetting something.” Letho shook his head, sighing. “The kid’s a special one. No divination can find him. He’s resistant to that kind of magic. And mind reading too.”

“No harm trying.”

And then the air turned somber once more.

“Look alive, people.” Vesemir clapped his hands, announcing, “I have an eye for these things. Roy won’t die that easily. He might be absent, but we have to go on with our work. Lambert will go through his second mutation tomorrow. And we should start preparing the Trial for the kids and the new recruits’ pre-Trial.”

“Sorry, but… I can’t do it.” Lytta clutched her chest and gritted her teeth, a sickly hue of red painting her cheeks. Sorrowfully, she said, “I just can’t hold any Trial before we find him.” She only came to the brotherhood because of Roy. If he wasn’t here, she had no reason to stay. “I can’t do it,” she muttered. All she could think of were the happy times she shared with Roy, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

“You are a strong woman, Lytta. You can’t fall just because of a little obstacle,” Letho consoled. “He’ll be proud of you if he knows what you did after he comes back.”

Triss derived a modicum of delight from Lytta’s sadness, but then it was replaced by shame and guilt.

Lytta took a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll try my best.”

“Gawain and Chappelle will send their men on a search as well,” Serrit added. “They made a ton of profit from this war.”

***

Beside the dried-up river stood an ancient castle where Vilgefortz lived. “You utter failure!” he roared at the man with a scar. “You had the perfect chance to take the girl, and all you have to show for that is a scar on your face? Rience, the girl isn’t the only thing you lost. You’ve lost my trust as well.”

“Please, calm your fury, sir. I had my reasons.” A man with brown hair, glistening eyes, and a sharp nose pleaded, “A white-haired witcher stopped me. He’s a lot stronger than any other witcher I’ve seen. I almost got myself killed trying to take the girl.” He pointed at the scar that extended from his forehead to his cheek. The memory of that battle alone sent shudders down his spine. “If I hadn’t escaped the moment I did, he would’ve killed me off.”

Vilgefortz rose from his seat and paced around the room. A white-haired witcher. Back when Emhyr, the emperor of Nilfgaard, was still Urcheon of Eldenwald, Vilgefortz manipulated him into joining the selection of consort for Pavetta. And a white-haired witcher helped them out. That memory was still fresh in Vilgefortz’s mind.

“Geralt of Rivia. I thought he’d given up on Ciri, yet now he gets in our way. Humans, mutants, they’re all the same. Oathbreakers. You reckon the witcher took Ciri away?”

“No. He looked exasperated. I’m sure someone else did that.” Rience’s eyes glinted. “When I left the castle, I saw a group of armored soldiers running at the drawbridge. They were trained professionals.”

Oh, Vilgefortz thought. I see. The emperor sent his men on a search for his daughter. He does have ample reason to seek Ciri out. But if Ciri had returned to Nilfgaard, my spy would’ve given me the word.

“This is your last chance, Rience. Scour Cintra, Upper Sodden, Angren, and Brugge for the princess, but keep it discreet. I don’t want anyone to find out I’m searching for the girl.”

“Yes, sire.” Rience bowed, heaving a sigh of relief in silence.

“And be careful,” Vilgefortz said. “Nilfgaard is making its way to Upper Sodden. Steer clear of them.”

Another war was on the horizon. Despite his losses, Vilgefortz managed to glean something from the war. The bloody torment Nilfgaard subjected Cintra to shocked the Northern Realms. The big four and a dozen smaller kingdoms had banded together and summoned their troops to fend off the invaders.

And the act of Nilfgaard using their mages to destroy Cintra’s walls was seen as a serious provocation by the northern Brotherhood of Sorcerers. Vilgefortz’s suggestion of gathering the brotherhood’s members up to reinforce the Northern Realms was passed.

The mage straightened out his collar. My time to shine.