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[PR: Ash]

The rain had come to a stop, a rainbow bridge galloping across the skies of Mayena, draping the fortress with a blanket of rich colors. Mayena’s plaza, a place where people seldom gathered, saw half the city’s citizens swarming the place.

Hundreds of civilians were gathered in this place, curious about what would happen. Whispers and discussions broke out everywhere. Standing on the wooden stage of execution were Yurga, Geralt, Mateo, Visenna, the bald deputy, a mangled, maggot-infested human corpse, and the carcass of a gigantic wolf.

“Citizens, for eight days we’ve investigated the death of our honorary ambassador, Ainz. After eight painstaking days, we’ve finally discerned the cause of his death,” Ritt announced. Long gone was his panic and dejection, replaced by delight and excitement.

Some of the civilians were whipped into a frenzy, their faces red, and they roared.

“That merchant of Rivia killed him! He and the witcher!”

“Hang them!”

“No, tie them to the stakes!”

“Burn them!”

“They’re not witches, you buffoon!”

The people swung their fists, roaring and shouting for the murderers to be put down, their overzealous rage scaring Yurga. Geralt, however, folded his arms, looking unfazed, and he looked at his mother.

“Silence! Let me speak. The investigation veered the wrong way from the start. Ainz was in fact not kidnapped at all. This feral beast here killed him.” Ritt pointed at the wolf’s corpse.

The people turned their attention to the corpse, and a collective gasp pierced the air.

“By Lebioda, are the end days upon us?” A heavily freckled man spoke in astonishment. “I’ve never seen a wolf this big my whole life.”

“Because you don’t go around enough.” A potbellied man scoffed. “Oversized beasts exist. Just gotta travel to the northmost part of the lands and venture into Dragon Mountains.”

“This beast took up residence in the bushes behind the wooden bridge of the valley in the north, ambushing passing townspeople.” Ritt looked at the concerned people. “Ainz and Yurga were on their way back from the woods when the wolf ambushed them. Ainz was killed on the spot, his corpse devoured. We sent a troop of soldiers into the woods for a search, and a lot were injured before we found the corpse and killed the beast. Yurga and everyone else, shocked by the horrible encounter, conjured up a delusion and spouted nonsense when they came back.”

“What proof do you have?” a lanky man shouted. Like most people, he believed the conspiracy theory about Ainz being kidnapped and killed by his competitor. That made for a more intriguing story than a mere beast attack.

“Mateo—Ainz’s servant—is our witness. Along with our beloved healer.”

Visenna took a step forward and nodded at the people, giving them a smile. Her smile alone soothed their doubts and rage. “I have ascertained that this is the corpse of Ainz. He was torn to pieces by this beast, and I have also found pieces of his flesh in the beast’s belly.”

“The healer’s right!” a lad with a crutch shouted. He had the look of a devout believer on his face.

“If that’s what the healer says, then that must be the case,” the other civilians agreed. Visenna had helped them before, so they were indebted to her.

Some people voiced their doubts, but their suspicion was drowned out easily.

“Which makes Geralt, Yurga, and Mateo innocents!” Ritt shouted.

“Release them!”

“That is what I shall do right now. I hereby pronounce that their accusations of kidnapping are dropped. We shall duly compensate them for our wrongful accusations against them.”

“What a fool!” a young boy mocked. “Spent eight days, and this is what you found? And you accused three innocents.”

The crowd burst into laughter, and Ritt’s face fell, but he held his fury back. “This is no foolishness, boy. This is what the gods had in store for us. This is what the Eternal Fire wanted for us,” said Ritt righteously. “This mistake led us to Ainz’s well-kept secret during our investigations.”

“What kind of secret?”

“Despite his status and power as our ambassador, Ainz not only did not uphold his duties, he abused his power and committed a list of heinous crimes. One, the food he purchased for the refugees is made of moldy and expired ingredients.”

The people inhaled sharply.

A short, pudgy man with a face full of acne held his belly. “No wonder my stomach gets upset for the whole day every time I have food Ainz bought.”

His friend teased, “You go into the refugee encampment?”

“Hey, free food is free food. Don’t tell me you aren’t tempted.”

“Shut it. I am not done yet,” Ritt continued. “Two, he has forced more than five women in the encampment to serve him in bed. He promised them heaven and earth, and yet he left them to fend for themselves.”

“The bastard!” That riled the crowd up. “He has the looks of a shit-eating maggot! Forced women into servitude just because he had money? Damn him!”

“That scum! That beast did well, it did!” The men roared with indignity and jealousy.

“He got it easy. If it were up to me, I’d have hung him in the plaza and cut his junk off!” an effeminate man hissed.

A plain-looking man sighed. “The gods are unfair. I’ve been honest all my life, but I’ve never even held a woman’s hand before.”

“That’s because you have no gold to your name,” a minor aristocrat scoffed.

Ritt was happy about the people’s reaction. Their rage was finally redirected to Ainz. “Three, for the last ten years, Ainz had been in cahoots with the bandits terrorizing the wilds beyond the walls, robbing and killing the merchants that got into a contract with him, taking their cargo for free. Up until his death, he had killed no fewer than a hundred merchants.”

A soldier walked up to Ritt and handed a thick black tome. “This is the ledger we found in his estate. Every single illegal transaction he made is recorded in these pages. There is no denial of his crimes now.” Ritt did his best to wag the tome around, riling up the people more. “Do you know what this means? Ainz fattened himself up with the coins he gained from killing his partners, but in turn, Mayena lost a huge number of businesses, taxes, and job opportunities.”

Like a conductor for an orchestra, Ritt swung his arms down and made a circle. “Thanks to Ainz, all of you are making less money than you should.”

“The bastard!” a young aristocrat in a green scarf spat, crossing their arms before their chest. “So he’s the reason things are getting pricier while profits get lower?”

“That is correct!” Ritt continued loudly. “Ainz was nothing but a parasite. A bloodsucker. As long as he was there, the people would’ve lived nothing but miserable lives.”

“The corrupted, evil bastard!” a bald man roared.

“A demon in human skin!” the farmers shouted.

“Yay, yay, he’s dead!” A girl sitting on her father’s head clapped merrily.

The people were cursing and spitting at the dead ambassador.

“His death is divine retribution and a chance for this city to change. Our wise and revered lord, Scorpi, will be taking advantage of this change to breathe new life into the city.” A pause ensued, and Ritt turned red with excitement as he was reminded of the encouragement his boss gave him.

Animatedly, he announced, “From next month onward, Lord Scorpi will lower the prices of all items in this city. He has promised that prices will not rise again. Within six months, prices will keep going down until they hit normal levels. The details will be posted on the bulletin board in town hall. Everyone’s invited to check it out.”

“Hail Lord Scorpi!”

“Long live Lord Scorpi!”

After so much suffering, the people finally got some good news, and they shouted and cheered in glee. On top of that, they could vent their frustration at the snobbish and arrogant ambassador, and that was cathartic for them.

With that, the whole fiasco surrounding Ainz’s death came to an end.

***

“If you run into any trouble, Yugni, come to the ballroom in Novigrad’s business district and tell them Roy sent you. I’ll help however I can.”

“Auckes … I mean Roy, I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t mind it. You’ve helped me out too.”

***

“Ritt gave you some gold, didn’t he, Mateo? I have a suggestion. Take Ririn and leave Mayena right away. This place does nothing for you. You have to leave to escape your past. Don’t think about them. Try your best to distract yourself and perhaps sire a child. This is important. Your life depends on this, got it?”

***

Glasses clanged, and the aroma of malt flared in the air, the foam glistening like pearls.

“Thank you, Roy. Got out with my life intact thanks to you.” Yurga had changed into cheap, oversized clothes, and he was grinning. “Let’s go to my place. Pick any of my sons you’d like. Train him up to be a witcher.” The merchant thumped his chest.

Roy looked at the excited merchant, amused. It was his first time seeing someone willingly give up their children to a witcher, but the orphanage was in no need of more kids. “So how old are they?”

“Twelve. Both of them are.”

“Sorry, but they’re a bit old. The Trial will be dangerous for them,” Roy said.

Ebony was under the table, lapping up some dwarven liquor. He was listening to the tune of the lute, shaking his leg like he was under a spell.

Yurga looked slightly disappointed. “They’re twins, so I guess both of them are my firstborns. If you won’t take them with you, inheritance is going to be a problem when they come of age.”

“If you love them equally, then split their inheritance equally between them.”

“You have a point. I’m going to make a lot from this deal anyway. For some reason, the deputy became a lot more agreeable. Waived me two years’ worth of business tax in Mayena.” Yurga looked pleasantly surprised.

Roy smiled. At least the deputy is not a total idiot. He turned to Geralt. “What did the deputy give you?”

“Two hundred orens.” Geralt gulped his beer down and wiped off the foam. “All I had to take were some lashes. It’s a good deal.”

Roy raised a toast, staring at Geralt with interest. “This is none of my business, but how did your talk with Visenna go?”

And a short pause slid itself into the otherwise merry occasion. In the original timeline, Geralt was heavily injured when he met his mother. Visenna kept running away from the questions Geralt posed. When Geralt passed out, Visenna ran away, and Geralt never saw her again until the day he died.

This time, Geralt had the upper hand thanks to Roy’s intervention, and Visenna didn’t manage to run away. It would’ve been a shame if Visenna and Geralt had gone their own paths and never talked again even after the conversation.

Geralt let go of his glass and leaned in his chair, staring at the magical lamp on the inn’s ceiling. “You might think I’m a joke. Being a witcher means cutting off our old lives, including our old families. That’s what Vesemir had told me so many times. Eskel and Lambert followed that rule, or to be exact, this path didn’t give them any chance to contact their family, but I could never seem to forget about my mother. I had always wished to see her. That’s not what most witchers would do.” He finished his beer, a shade of red painting his pale cheeks.

“No such rule in the brotherhood, Geralt,” said Roy loudly. “We’re moving with the times. How we work, mutate, and deal with world affairs are changing too. We’re dealing with family affairs differently too.” Roy said seriously, “Take me for example. I’ve been in this line of work for three years, but have I estranged myself from Moore or Susie?”

Geralt shook his head.

“Have their lives been badly affected by my presence? Or is it the opposite?”

The opposite, Geralt thought. And they gave you a brother too.

“The rule of cutting off your family and taking on the fate of cold loneliness after you become a witcher is in the past now.” Roy smiled proudly. “We should look forward and go after new dreams. We do not just exist to help humans with their monster infestations or personal affairs. Not like we have a serious monster infestation either. We should work for one thing only: to change the lives of ourselves, our families, our friends, and our lovers.” Roy raised his voice and fervently said, “So everyone can be happy.”

Yurga’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe a witcher would say something so unbelievable. It sounded so impossible, but so inspirational. That was the goal most people were working toward, not just witchers.

“Visenna’s your mother. She had a reason to leave you, but she’s been missing you. It’s normal that you want to get close to her.”

“So it’s fine if I stay in contact with her?” Geralt looked at Roy.

“Of course.” Rot patted his shoulder. “It’d be confusing if you left without saying a word. Puerile and melodramatic.”

Geralt looked sheepish. He did plan on leaving without saying a word.

“You finally found her. Reconnected with her. Don’t let go so easily,” Roy encouraged. “Spend some time nurturing the connection. Don’t have to keep an eye on it all the time. Just occasional visits to let her know you’re fine would be good enough.”

The look of dilemma melted off Geralt’s face, replaced by a smile. He then patted the head of Ebony, and the pup stopped shaking his leg for a while. Then Ebony pranced around happily, howling quietly with the screaming and dancing patrons on the dance floor.

“I’ve always loved your analyses. Straight to the point and motivational.”

“Analyses? No, this is a prophecy.” Roy beamed. “You should be thankful, because those who have heard my prophecies will gain happiness.”

“Um…” Yurga rubbed his hands and grinned. “Can you give me a prophecy as well?”

“You’re going to have another child.”

Yurga’s jaw dropped, and liquor rattled in his throat, about to be spewed. Roy lashed out and covered the merchant’s mouth until the red-faced merchant gulped his liquor down.

“Kidding. You’ll have a surprise waiting for you at home nonetheless.”

The merchant burped and shot Roy a look of complaint. It took him a long while to calm down from the shock. “Can we set off tomorrow? I’d like to make some purchases for Goldencheeks and the boys later.”

Geralt said nothing. He only brought up the Law of Surprise on a whim. He wasn’t planning on taking his son or any of his pickled greens or dried fish. “I have to find Ciri, so I can’t go with you, Yurga. I’m sorry.”

“Do you have anywhere better to be?” Roy smiled. “You never invoke the Law of Surprise on a whim. The Law carries with it the power of Destiny. You did say that should you pass this trial of imprisonment, you’ll have passed the trial of Destiny. Now it’s time to receive your reward,” Roy said mysteriously. “Perhaps what you’re looking for is right there. Outer Rivia isn’t far from Mayena.”

Anticipation flared within Geralt’s heart, and he didn’t argue anymore.

“Then it’s settled.” Roy downed a glass of alcohol, and he turned red with excitement. “We’ll set off with Yurga tomorrow.”

“One thing I don’t understand.” Yurga smacked his belly, and it jiggled. “What was that light? Are we really going to just ignore it? Smells like trouble.”

Roy said, “It shone on you for five minutes. Feel unwell?”

“The opposite, actually. I feel a lot lighter. Stronger. It healed my arthritis too, or I couldn’t have survived life in prison.” Kindness is rewarded.

“Maybe that light really is some sort of divine spell. Punishment for the wicked and blessing for the kind. Couldn’t find anything even when I tried to look around the woods.”

Roy had a wary look in his eyes. The memory of Mateo getting burned by the light was fresh in his head, and he felt something familiar from the light too. “The druids of Mayena are starting their search. They will contact me once they find something.”

“Who’s it going to be?” Geralt cocked his eyebrow.

“The lovely Visenna. Exchanged contacts with her.” Roy whipped out a magic crystal, ignoring the dark look on Geralt’s face. With anticipation in his voice, he said, “Perhaps I might ask her a lot about the path of nature.” And try to get her to be a part of the brotherhood’s lab members.

“I didn’t know you learned a thing or two from Lambert. I’m warning you, don’t try anything funny with her, or I’m telling Lytta about it. I’m sure she’ll give you a piece of her mind.”

“Just kidding, Geralt. You know I’m chasing power. And I’m not interested in someone two hundred years older than me.”

***

The beautiful wilds of Mayena sheltering the druids’ circle saw something peculiar happen that day. A druid draped in bear hide, a pair of antlers coupled with mistletoe wreaths took a mountain flower off his forehead, his face covered in feral tattoos.

Once he sorted out the plants’ message, his eyes burned with flames hot enough to immolate anything he set his eyes on. “A second energy field, this time fifteen dead. Someone’s experimenting on our turf. No matter who they are, they will pay the price.”