“Amos left us an obvious clue. Foltest is behind this.” Letho kept an eye on Sylvia and where she was going. He rubbed his hairless head and said, “Now all we have to do is find out what happened between Foltest and Amos. Then everything will be clear.”
Roy nodded, telling Letho to keep going.
“But something’s off. Foltest changed his name. Aside from us, the baron, his wife, nobody knows Setlov is Foltest in disguise. Amos is just a nomadic troupe performer, so he shouldn’t have seen Foltest before. How’d he find out who Setlov really is and leave a clue behind?”
“I have a guess why.” Roy licked his lip. He was looking a bit excited. “Amos and Aryan were both in the garden. They probably saw him by chance and overheard something they shouldn’t have.”
“Wait. It can’t be…” Letho thought he knew what Roy was getting at, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.
“It must have been a beautiful night. The flowers were in full bloom, and the paths were covered in their petals.” Roy looked at the flowers and continued, “Do you really think Foltest was just getting some fresh air? When he had the perfect scene for romance right in front of him? Get real. Remember what Sylvia told us? Lady Louisa left the banquet hall too. She claims the lady went to see her daughter, but I don’t think that’s the whole story. We need to talk with the lady.” Roy fell silent for a moment, and he added, “Alone if possible.”
***
The witchers opened the door. It creaked, revealing a warm, spacious bedroom behind it. The brilliant sunshine shone through the windows, illuminating the pasty young man lying on the bed. He was gaunt. His cheeks were sunken, and his cheekbones almost pierced through the skin. The young man’s illness made him look a lot older than he was. He was covered in a slightly thick blanket, and his eyes were closed. His breathing was almost nonexistent, as if he would be snuffed out at any given moment.
Louisa was beside the bed, leaning against it. She was wiping the young man’s face gently with a wet towel, but she stopped when she heard the witchers coming inside. “Witchers.” She wiped the tears off her cheeks and stood up. Louisa held her hands in front of her belly, and she asked rather hurriedly, “Did you find any clues in the garden?”
“We went through the garden and the servants’ bedchamber, but we found nothing,” Roy lied and shook his head. He and Letho approached the bed. Roy scanned the young man, and he frowned. “This must be Sir Aryan. How is he looking?”
Louisa had a forlorn look on her face. She sighed. “The witch doctor did his best, but Aryan is barely surviving.” She turned her gaze to the other side of the bed. A wizened man in bizarre attire stood near the saffron curtains. He donned a cape made out of bear hide, a necklace made of chicken feet hung around his neck, and his yellowish-green hemp robe extended to the ground. It was old and tattered. The young witcher was reminded of the unkempt herbalists who lived in the villages.
His sideburns were grey, and there was barely any hair on the top of his head. Wrinkles covered his face, but unlike most of the elderly, this man stood up straight, and he was well built. His eyes were gleaming with energy.
‘Sasilie
Age: Eighty years old
Gender: Male
Status: Witch doctor (Most witch doctors are nothing but charlatans who survive on the masses’ gullibility. Some of them are spellcasters who know a few spells, but their affinity for magic lies somewhere between regular humans and sorcerers).
HP: 60
Mana: 150
Strength: 5
Dexterity: 5
“Worry not, Lady Louisa. The prophesied men are here. Aryan will be safe.” The witch doctor waved at the witchers. “Look at him. The poor boy. I’ve seen many strange ailments in my life, but this? This is rare, even for me. It doesn’t even look like any curse or poison, nor did I feel any chaos energy in his body.”
“Please, witchers, help Aryan.” Louisa put her hands in a prayer and looked up at the witchers, a silent plea welling in her eyes.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Lady Louisa. We’ll do our best, but we make no guarantees. If the sorcerers and witch doctors can’t save him, I don’t think we can. We’re worse healers than they are,” Roy said. He looked at the old man and asked curiously, “Do you live around Fyke Isle, Master Sasilie?”
“How’d you know where I live, witcher?”
“I heard there’s an all-powerful, eccentric witch doctor who lives there,” Roy explained. He paused for a moment, then he said, “Do you have a goat named Princess?”
“All-powerful? I am but an old man. I’m not as powerful as the rumor makes me out to be,” he scoffed. “Most of our healing rites require goat’s blood, but I don’t have time to rear a goat. Though I do like that name.” The old man rubbed his chin and committed that name to memory.
You don’t have time to rear a goat just yet. He hasn’t gotten that goat now. Roy thought this was probably the oddball who sent Geralt on an errand to search for his goat. Didn’t think I’d run into him here. But I have to say he has skills.
***
‘Aryan La Valette
Age: Eleven years old
Status: Heir to the La Valette family, eldest son of Baron La Valette, apprentice knight
HP: 3050 (lost in dream)’
“Lost in a dream…” Roy massaged his temples and wondered what that meant. Aryan is lost in his own dream?
“Did you find something, kid?”
“You first.”
Letho had checked on the young man. “I share the witch doctor’s opinion. Aryan is in a strange state. There’s no trace of poison or curses, and I don’t feel any residual mana either.” He pulled the young man’s slender right leg out from the blanket and knocked on the spot under his knee. Aryan kicked by reflex. “His reflexes are still working, so he’s not exactly unconscious.” He pulled Aryan’s eyelid up, and everyone noticed that his eyeballs were rolling around at high speed. His irises were almost a blur.
The terrifying sight shocked Louisa. “What’s happening to Aryan, witchers?”
“It’s alright, Lady Louisa. This is normal.” Witchers knew more about human anatomy, reflex movements, and physical movements than most healers. “This happens to most people when they’re starting to wake from their sleep. To be precise, Aryan is having a dream right now.” Roy took a deep breath. “He’s stuck in his dream.”
***
***