177 Toussaint (Part 16)

Toussaint Library. A relict of the era long gone and a beacon of enlightenment for the ones that crave for it. Some say that it can rival the state library of Nilfgaard in the capital, others said its books are as ancient as the world itself.

Alan set foot into the colossal building and showed the emblem of Her Highness. Soldiers stood upright the moment they saw it and didn't stop him.

As any library it was quiet, broad and smelled like paper. Sometimes aroma of leather mixed with it. He can sense even stone and wood from the shelves, where the most ancient text lay.

He went to the front desk and saw an old man. His skinny hands scrambled something with a quill on a piece of paper. Alan waited for a moment, yet the man didn't react.

"Librarian." - he said finally.

Old man raised his gaze. From slightly cloudy it became sharp and looked over the young intruder with attention.

"Witcher." - nodded old man, stared at the young man for a brief time and resumed his job.

Alan shrugged and entered. He wasn't sure how to start looking and walked through it, trying to understand the layout of the place. Soon, his mind relaxed and a surprising thing happened afterward.

He began to know.

It was hard to explain how and why, but he began to understand where to look and what he needed. That feeling was familiar, yet different and way broader than before. It was similar to the functions of Eye of Eternium, yet now it became his own.

'It is like another sense. Sense of knowledge. I know. I just can see and understand things as they are. Fascinating...'

Alan concentrated on this feeling and an entirely new world appeared around him suddenly. He knew every speck of dust, every page and even molecular structure of things. And his mind was like a sponge, freely gaining knowledge from the ambience itself.

Yet, the sense has limits. It can't look into the future or the past, only present. It was an accurate knowledge of the current condition of the object down to the molecular level.

That was the genuine sixth sense, and from that understanding he found many facts about his own body too. First one – Eye of Eternium became a part of him. Second, he knew exactly where his mana source and energy form received damage and why it's not recovering.

Now he can find a way to restore his magic, that he wasn't able to use since Novigrad. Since the time he healed Coen after the battle with a fiend.

'But is not the time... I need to find out what is going on in Toussaint. This symbol has no connection to the revenant. The latter is a separate case. Perhaps they are connected somehow, but infants didn't die from it, only Morivaldi estate was decimated by a revenant. Okay, symbol.'

His mind found the answer and led him to a corner where the most ancient books lay.

It was a black scroll with a sigil engraved on its cover.

A spider with a lion's head.

"I never thought, that you will be interested in the most vile and brutal religion out of all things here." - the voice came from the space between the shelves and an old woman walked out.

Alan traced the leather with a finger and frowned. It was rough and belonged to a human.

"I'm not interested in worshiping any gods. I'm a witcher. How can I worship one if one day I might have to kill it?"

"Loud words, witcher. Don't let people hear that. You are not a believer. I know. It will be strange If you are. Yet you are here, staring at this... product of abominations with human looks. Why do you want to know about this ancient cult?"

"Investigation." - Alan unfolded the scroll and let his sixth sense spread over it. The test was successful and the entire text directly engraved itself into his mind. What he read there made Alan frown for some time. - "What else can you tell me? Do you know about the infants?"

"I heard. A great tragedy. I know little, not more than many others. It was a strange cult of a very brutal god. It liked human sacrifices and was furious with every mortal that wished to have its power and prayed for it. It is said that only the chosen priest could suppress its anger and give miracles to the believers."

"I don't understand. Why people believed in it? Such a dark and brutal religion. Who even needs it?"

Human sacrifices for power. That sounded bad, to say the least. The woman sighed knowingly.

"Why do they care? There will always be people who think only about themselves. The ones that have access to slaves, captives and prisoners. If they can convert that into genuine power, why not? That were their thoughts. That was a temptation few can fight with. They sacrificed people for the god that gave them riches, power, luck... This cult was very popular during earlier ages in Geso. The historical records of that time told us that most of it was destroyed. However, it is not gone. It is still there."

The woman sat on the ladder and patiently explained everything she knew.

"And this symbol is a mark of the sacrifice." - Alan said with certainty.

"Indeed. The cursed mark." - nodded the woman.

"Thank you."

"No witcher, don't thank me. Just stop them and be vigilant. They might be more resourceful and powerful than you might expect from the fallen cult. You know, they are like you."

"In what way?" - Alan asked with a frown.

"You both kill to earn."

"We are completely different. I kill monsters while risking my life. It is a fair trade where I can die as well as my enemy. They slaughter people on the altars with no risk or discretion about the target."

"But what if they have discretion? What if you can gain power every time you kill a bandit or corrupted soldier? Will you do that or not? After all, you kill only the wicked and offer them as a sacrifice. In return, you gain power to save more people."

Alan looked at the woman with attention. She was old, but had a certain air of elegance and straight back untouched by age. Her movements were accurate and graceful. That made the witcher feel threatened. Something was off about her, yet Alan couldn't figure out what exactly.

"The source of power matters as much as power itself. I prefer to train and use knowledge to gain the skills. Only fools think strength comes from someone or something else, but the mind and heart."

"Pragmatic, but you believe in it. What if you can become even stronger and use it to do good? Won't it serve your cause more?"

"Experience told me that power can corrupt. And the one gained by unjust means even more so. Old lady, I might not know many things, but at least I have an unrestricted view on what I can use and what I can't. Power is useless if you can't implement it rightly."

"This is a library! Stay silent or I will throw you out!" - a grumpy voice of an old man spread from the entrance. - "Hmph... foreign barbarians don't respect our culture... hmph."

"I'm not a foreign barbarian, I'm your wife, you old crook! And I must say, marriage with you was a mistake of my lifetime!" - nagged an old woman and immediately changed the topic. - "Young lad, don't marry a person because of a stroke of the shit known as love at first sight. That will doom your life."

"I'm a witcher."

"So what? If I were younger... ah."

"No, thanks."

Alan took a step back.

"Oh-ho, you have someone you like already, heh? Here, take some florens and by her a candy."

Alan facepalmed, but admitted one thing. Candies really work on Ciri.

"Ho-ho, I see you even know who will receive your candy." - old woman smiled knowingly while Alan looked at her with a deadpan face. Not because he felt nothing, but he was hard-pressed to respond to her direct words and actions. - "Go for it, lad!"

"We were talking about the cult."

"Oh, you don't want to involve yourself with them, believe me. You are a good lad, so stay out of it."

"I'm a witcher."

"Still a good lad, no?" - smirked the old woman. - "Fine, fine. The cult. People say that somewhere to the south, in the swamps, there is an altar of their god, but who knows? Followers of the lion-head spider were always brutal and treacherous. Magic of Coram Agh Ter is powerful and vile. They are masters of curses and black arts. Ah, it is a time of contempt, time of treason and blood. Undoubtedly, reappearance of the cult is a sign. A sign of the upcoming end."

Alan didn't listen further to her nagging. Coram Agh Ter was indeed a problem, a huge one. Wealthy merchants, influential nobles, famous warriors and leaders in the army – they all were part of it back in the days. Surprisingly, Coram Agh Ter had a broad network of connections and was very influential.

Old man looked how the young witcher left the building in deep thought.

"You heard everything, right?" - asked the old woman. She appeared near the librarian in a flash of turquoise light.

"Indeed." - nodded the old man, still not here. - "He is so similar to his father."

"And I think his mother."

"No way! That damn witch!"

"Watch your mouth, old crook!"

Old man grumbled something in displeasure.

"I think we can link it. Let him find the answers. He will need everything he has to stop the Way. And his source of magic is severely hurt. Let him enter. That will help."

"I will decide myself." - waived his hand the old man, and the space distorted in front of him.

"Stubborn old crook. Like you have a choice, hmph. I like the boy."

Old man glanced at the woman and entered the portal in silence. Robes waved in the air, showing an armor under them and a medallion hanging on his neck.

Dragon head glared at the world for a moment before hiding in his robes again.