Chapter 181: Druid
“Mousesack.” Geralt sheathed his sword and took off his steel gauntlets.
“Geralt.” The rider stopped ten feet away from them. “How long has it been? Never thought I’d see you here. But before we can talk about old times, let’s talk business. Where’s Ciri?”
Geralt looked at the girl, who was still pretending to be asleep. “Open your eyes, girl. You’ll want to see this man. And get off Roy.”
“Mousesack?” Ciri looked at the rider. His white beard tumbled down to his chest, and his eyes told of a long history. His wrinkles carved themselves deeply upon his face, but it only added to his wise look.
He was wearing a leopard hide as a cape, and he donned a crimson shirt. He had a black hat decorated with three antlers, and a brown, gnarly staff was strapped to his back.
Compared to his large stature, the horse he was riding looked petite, and Roy wondered if it would buckle under its rider’s weight.
The man looked at Ciri, and he got off his mount to open his arms. A moment later, he hugged the little girl tightly.
“Did Grandmother send you, Mousesack? Is she worried about me?”
“No, she isn’t.” Mousesack smiled at her and combed her ruffled hair, then he looked at Roy. “She’s drenching her belt. I hope you are prepared, princess. You will be in a lot of pain soon, and you will be shedding a lot of tears as well.”
Ciri blanched, and she covered her buttocks, where Calanthe frequently spanked.
“Hold on.” Geralt looked around them carefully. “This is no place to talk. It’s filled with corpses. We should deal with them first.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” A few petite dryads appeared from the trees behind them.
“Braenn? Have you been listening in?”
“No.” Braenn shook her head. “We came to see what the commotion was all about. Are these really scalp-hunters?”
Geralt nodded. “They killed a group of travelling merchants and shoved the blame to your sisters.”
“Then we owe you a debt.” Braenn smiled. “These hunters’ bodies make for great fertilizer. My sisters and I shall deal with them for you.”
She tossed a pouch to Geralt.
“What is this?”
“Brokilon specialty. Corynhaela vines and purple living bone’s sprouts. Used to make potions. Take it as a reward for these bodies.”
“Wait.” Roy pleaded, “Before you take these fertilizers away, can I search their bodies? They carry some shiny things with them, and I don’t think the forest needs them.”
A moment later, the young witcher happily pocketed two hundred crowns and said goodbye to the dryads.
He had to stretch every crown as much as he could to make sure the school’s revival went well.
***
The four of them went east, and when dusk descended, they made a bonfire in the wilds.
“Calanthe has taken back her decision,” Mousesack said. “She does not wish to marry Ciri off to Kistrin anymore.”
“Royalty and their capricious personalities. This is the second time she canceled Ciri’s marriage already,” Geralt mocked.
“Verden’s king sent his men to attack a traveling merchant’s caravan and shifted the blame to the dryads. That is a despicable move. Even if the queen did not take her decision back, I would have never allowed Ciri to marry the heir of Verden. I have watched over her since she was a babe. Now I shall take her back to Cintra with me. Come, Geralt. You cannot run this time.”
Geralt was quiet, and he turned away, refusing to look Ciri in the eye.
Mousesack knew he could not force the White Wolf, and he changed the topic. “Tell me the truth, White Wolf. Is this young man a new disciple you recruited? A new Unexpected Child?”
“I wish. That’d be great.” Geralt sighed. The Wolf School was in the same situation as the Viper School. It had been a long time since they had any new blood as well.
“Young man, Geralt told me it’s thanks to you that Ciri managed to escape Brokilon. On Queen Calanthe’s behalf, I thank you. I shall ask Her Majesty to reward you handsomely once we return to Cintra.”
“You can do away with the reward.” Roy waved him down. The Water of Brokilon was the best reward he could hope for. Not to mention he got to know Geralt and came in touch with the Wolf School.
Roy looked at Ciri, who was napping on the blanket beside the bonfire. “Ciri is a friend. I don’t think a reward is needed for helping a friend.”
“I thought witchers dealt strictly in contracts and rewards.”
“For everyone else, yes. But have you ever seen Geralt demand any reward from Jaskier?”
“Very well, then.” Mousesack shrugged. “Tell me if you need anything else. I shall help as much as I can.”
Roy nodded, and he cast Observe on the druid.
‘Mousesack/Ermion
Age: One hundred and seventy-eight years old
Gender: Male
Status: Druid, mentor in the druids’ circle
HP: 200
Mana: ?
Strength: 10
Dexterity: 11
Constitution: 20
Perception: 13
Will: 10
Charisma: 16
Spirit: ?
Skills:
Feral Change Level 8: After observing wild beasts for a long period of time, druids can fully understand their behavior and turn into one of them at will.
Breath of the Wild Level 10: Druids can establish telepathic connections with beasts and plants. They can assuage beasts and plants, or they can command them to attack their enemies.
Regeneration Level 7: Costs Mana. Heals up to regular wounds.
Elementalist Level 5: Especially powerful druids can communicate with nature itself and control the weather. They can create rain, stop storms, raise hails, and strike their enemies with lightning.
Details: ?’
“You are a druid?”
“Yes. I am Queen Calanthe’s consultant and a member of Skellige Isles’ druids’ circle.”
“I see.”
Druids could control magic as well, but their community wasn’t called a brotherhood. Instead, they called it the druids’ circle. They worshipped nature and loved life. Druids had powerful healing spells and would heal ailing people all over the world. In that respect, they shared the same beliefs as the believers of Melitele, and they respected each other.
Druids could connect with plants and animals as well. Some of the more powerful ones could control the weather and keep the balance between humans and nature. Druids were, in terms of alignment, neutral good. They were knowledgeable and powerful, and they would show no mercy to poachers and those who cut down forests too much.
Roy knew a famous sorcerer called Vilgefortz who used to train under a druid when he was a child before he switched to the side of sorcerers. Thanks to his training, he was more durable than most sorcerers, and he could handle himself well in close combat.
***
Mousesack nodded, and he turned his attention to Geralt. “Have you made your decision, Geralt? Will you return to Cintra with us?”
“I…” Geralt looked at the girl, who was staring at him expectantly. “I need to return to Brugge.”
“Fine.” Mousesack came to a decision as well. “Take Ciri with you. I’ll handle Queen Calanthe for the time being.”
“Are you mad?”
“I believe in Destiny and the Law of Surprise. They are a part of the laws of nature.” He stared straight at Geralt. “The sword of Destiny—”
“Has two blades! Enough. Then I shall break the blade!” Geralt seemed frustrated, as if he were trying to reject something.
“No, you do not understand. Your fate has intertwined with Ciri’s twice now. Don’t argue. I know it very well. The first time was when Ciri was born. You came to Cintra that time, and you held her in your arms. The second time was after Ciri’s return from Skellige.” Mousesack rubbed Ciri’s cheeks, assuaging her. “Ciri’s parents had just passed away. You came to see her, but you did not take her away because the queen begged you not to.”
“Geralt. So you came to see me before? Why didn’t you take me with you then?” Ciri was still young. She thought living the life of a drifter with a witcher was more interesting than being locked up in a castle.
“Stop it, Mousesack.”
The druid ignored him. “You abandoned her two times, and yet Destiny stubbornly sent her to you again. To Brokilon, where dangers awaited her. Ciri must have had the shock of her life. With how Destiny has worked so far, if you’re still going to abandon her this time, White Wolf, then she shall come across a far greater danger the next time.”
“That is nonsense!” Geralt shot up. “I do not believe in such superstition.”
“No, Geralt. You know about the Law of Surprise. More than anyone else. You know what I speak of is the truth.”
“What do you want me to do? An old, tired, injured man taking a girl who’s also a princess on to live the life of a tramp? No matter how you put it, it’s a recipe for disaster. And the Wolf School never takes female disciples.”
He turned around and held the druid’s grey horse by the reins. “I have to leave now.”
“Please, Geralt. Don’t go. Stay.” Ciri came up to Geralt and held his pants. She looked sad.
Destiny was a funny thing. It hadn’t been a week since she met Geralt, but Ciri was already feeling a surge of affection for the big softie. She could feel that Geralt truly cared for her, but he wasn’t great at expressing himself.
Roy sighed. Wow, the White Wolf can get really sentimental and pessimistic. Roy was frustrated about Geralt’s indecisive attitude. He really needs to be more decisive.
“Geralt, you’re a pessimist, through and through. What are you scared of? Why do you keep running away? You should be braver when it comes to things like these. No matter if it’s Ciri or that witch.”
“What else do you know about that, Roy?” Geralt was surprised. He didn’t remember telling Roy about Yennefer.
“Not important. Your attitude is disappointing.” Roy held down Ciri’s shoulders, and the girl cried in his arms. “Come with me, Geralt. To Cintra.”
“Are you trying to persuade me as well, witcher of the Viper School?” Geralt stared at the young witcher, his eyes bloodshot.
“No. I will not force Ciri on you. I am inviting you on behalf of the Viper School. Come with me to Cintra. There are three other witchers there who are waiting for you. There aren’t many witchers left now. It’s not every day we get to meet. I think we should sit down and share a cup of liquor. We can talk about Gorthur Gvaed and Kaer Morhen. You guys will have a lot to talk about.”
“They are witchers as well?”
Ciri took the chance to hold the White Wolf’s arm and swung it cutely, the plea in her eyes obvious.
Geralt had a long struggle with himself. In the end, he relented. The White Wolf sighed, and he shook Roy’s hand.
***
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