Return to Vizima

Kaer Morhen Castle.

"Hey, I'm going to work in those places where the birds don't shit. Sometimes I also think, can't we take a year off? Anyway, save a little. If you usually rely on hunting and fishing, the money is not enough. Why? Have to run out every year and suffer from that bird?"

Riding on the mount, Lambert held a withered weed in his mouth and chattered endlessly: "Others are okay. I really hate the food cooked by that kid Wayne. Damn it, it's so delicious. When I think about what I can't eat for a whole year, I feel like I have no motivation."

Eskel, who was walking beside him, nodded silently, and said: "Others probably don't care too much, but Vesemir will definitely not promise us to stay in the castle for a whole year."

"Although he is old and looks healthy, his thinking is still very old-fashioned. He thinks that we witchers should wander in the backcountry every day and follow the traditions that have been going on for hundreds of years."

Geralt glanced back and found Berengar and Wayne riding on the same horse not far away, talking to Vesemir about something. He asked Lambert in a low voice: "Well, when did that kid Wayne have such a good relationship with Berengar, and he actually riding the same horse with him? Are they planning to go to Vizima together?"

Lambert spat out the weeds on his mouth, twisted his mouth, and said: "Who knows, that kid is weird every day and thinks differently from us every day. You have spent the longest time with him. Can't you guess what he wants to do?"

"Lambert, have to admit, that dragon-leather gear Wayne gave us is top-notch," Eskel chuckled. "Word is he even gifted Vesemir some dragon hide under armor – warm in winter, cool in summer, and with a decent defense boost. Makes you wonder if these dragons are just oversized cabbages growing in fields."

Geralt snorted. "Lambert, my friend, those flying behemoths aren't exactly easy pickings. Sightings are becoming rarer by the year. We might not hear a peep about dragons for the next decade."

Two months away from Yennefer, with travel time factored in, was starting to get to Geralt. The White Wolf was itching to get back, to breathe in that familiar scent of cloves and gooseberries. He nudged Roach forward. "I'll head out first. Didn't Wayne set a meeting in Vizima for March? We can raise a glass then. Heard he has a stock of fine wines – enough to fetch a fortune."

Lambert's eyebrows shot up. "Really? All that coin on wine? I'm holding him to that then!" A sly grin spread across Geralt's face. "He earned those wines with his own sweat, Lambert. Haven't touched them myself. Whether you get a taste depends on your skills come March."

Meanwhile, Vesemir finished his conversation with Wayne. The old witcher cast a look at Berengar, a mix of emotions swirling in his eyes. "Alright, that's enough talk from me. You two handle your business. We'll have a proper chat when we reach Vizima in March."

Wayne nodded with a warm smile and began a sincere reply.

"Take care, Master Vesemir," Wayne said sincerely. "Don't overexert yourself. When we reach Vizima, I'll show you around the new city. It's undergone quite the transformation – you might not recognize the old stomping grounds."

A tiny white head poked out from his chest as he spoke. Little dire wolf pup, White Fang, seemed to sense the impending farewell. He let out a soft whine, a playful gesture for such a young creature.

A flicker of amusement crossed Vesemir's face before he quickly resumed his stoic demeanor. "Remember, Wayne," he said in a no-nonsense tone, "that pup is meant to be a fighting companion, not a pet. Spoil him too much, and he'll become a liability."

Wayne smiled knowingly. "Understood, Master. Speaking of taking care, you be sure to rest up while you're alone at the keep. I left a keg of dwarven stout under the kitchen table, along with some cured meats and dried fish. Something to keep you company."

"Well then," Wayne continued, "Geralt and the others have already set off, so I should be going too. See you in Vizima, come March."

...

Their luck wasn't holding this time. Unlike their previous voyage with Blackbeard, the only available ship was a cramped merchant vessel heading south to Cintra. It was cheap, but the cramped quarters were stifling. Confined to a tiny cabin, they whiled away the week-long journey with games of Gwent and bland meals.

Reaching the port town, they decided to take a break from the oppressive atmosphere on the ship. Wayne, leveraging his past reputation as the Floating Harbor Gwent champion, easily trounced tourists and merchants, winning a tidy sum of coin.

With newfound wealth, Berengar, who had been visibly withdrawn, indulged in some revelry. His glum demeanor lifted considerably. Their time together also allowed Berengar to witness Wayne's unique approach to life. Unlike a typical witcher, Wayne wasn't a wanderer scraping by. He seemed to possess an almost magical financial aptitude.

Whether it was his negotiation skills, his outlook, or his casual generosity (like gifting Berengar a horse), Wayne exuded an air of freedom most couldn't comprehend. He stayed in the finest hotels, dined on exquisite meals, and effortlessly won coins from merchants. One could call him a witcher with an uncanny knack for wealth.

This positive outlook was infectious, and Berengar's hopes for a better future blossomed. This anticipation peaked when they arrived at Wayne's luxurious residence in Vizima. Seated in a lavish dining room, they enjoyed exquisite food and rare wines, a far cry from their meager shipboard fare.

A relaxed smile played on Berengar's lips as Wayne presented him with a curious pair of spectacles. "These," Wayne explained, "are a witcher's disguise. Worn, they mask your witcher traits, allowing you to blend in as an ordinary human."

"Here, you can acclimate yourself to this new life. Change your name, and your identity, and become a regular sellsword if you wish. No one here knows your past. This can be your fresh start, a new chapter."

"While witchers cannot have biological children," Wayne continued, "adoption is an option. Consider taking on a son, an heir, or even an apprentice. You are free from those rigid rules. As long as your heart remains true and you uphold the ideals of the Wolf School, even unconventional choices are acceptable."

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