"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

Constitution: 6

Perception: 12

Will: 10

Charisma: 5

Spirit: 15

Skills:

Ancient Secrets Level 5: A system of spells similar to the druids' nature magic. Includes curses, healing spells, defensive spells, and divination. Witch doctors are less perceptive to chaos energy compared to sorcerers. Because of that, these techniques require more complex rituals and materials compared to regular spells. They're more primitive and unrefined, but they have their charms.

Meditation Level 5

See More'

***

"Witchers, this is Sasilie. He's a witch doctor the baron hired from Velen. Aryan can't eat while he's unconscious. Regular doctors can't do anything about it. Even sorcerers can't deal with this problem, but the witch doctor did. He saved Aryan's life. With just one talisman." Louisa nodded gratefully at the witch doctor and pulled the blanket down a little, revealing the yellow talisman hanging around his neck. It was made of juniper berries and silver fir.

Roy could smell the scent of buckthorn hanging around it. There was also a ball of light swirling around the talisman.

"It's a pity he can't wake Aryan up."

"It's impressive he kept Sir Aryan alive," Roy said. It's one thing to go without food, but Aryan can't even drink while he's unconscious. Most people would die from severe dehydration in a few days, but the witch doctor miraculously kept him alive. Roy looked at the old man. He had come across many sorcerers before. He could sense that familiar feeling on Sasilie, though he also smelled the scent of wild herbs, animals, and livestock on him. The man felt like a spellcaster that was between druids and sorcerers, and Roy thought his attire looked familiar. Sasilie of Velen. I wonder where I've seen him before, Roy wondered.

"Oh, you're here, Vipers," the old man spoke first. He put his hands on his hips and said in a strangely high pitch, "Aryan is waiting for you."

"You know us?" Roy looked at Letho. Letho shook his head, saying he had never seen the witch doctor before.

"The divination told of your arrival." Sasilie turned around and looked outside the window. He recited the mysterious prophecy. "'Arrive they will. Those drenched in blood but filled with mercy. A veil will be pierced, and a grotesque truth spilled. The bloody reflection they shatter, to awaken the one in slumber.' That's what the prophecy has said, and you have come, just as promised."

The witchers looked surprised and cautious after hearing that. Louisa quickly explained, "Master Sasilie can be a bit eccentric, witchers. He speaks in riddles. We don't know what he's talking about most of the time, but he means no harm."

Letho nodded in understanding. "There's a group of people in these lands who have the power of prophecies. Witch doctors, magical beings, and even blind men. Were you talking about our future, witch doctor?" Letho decided to take a little leap of faith. He asked, "Can you tell us who the real criminal is? Can you tell us how to wake Sir Aryan?"

"I'm a witch doctor, not a god." The old man was still looking stern. He shook his head. "I followed my ancestor's guidance and crossed the quiet lake. The moonlight showed me a vague scene of the future. Aryan is destined to be rescued by witchers, and that will be you two. This is beyond me, and my talisman can't hold on much longer. It will lose its magic in a week."

"A week?" Louisa blanched, and she was filled with anxiety. "What will happen to Aryan then?"

"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."