Dark clouds hung over Cintra, and cold winds blew through its streets. A man in rugged sailor attire twisted and turned within the alleyways of the city. Eventually, he emerged into its marketplace, stopping before the stalls that had barely any customers around.

With a radish in his hand, the man approached the livestock seller. He pretended to munch on it as he eyed the bustling crowd and listened to the latest rumors.

The livestock merchanta man with a perpetual squintsucked on his pipe. "'Tis an odd day. Those soldiers're starin' round like the whole street's filled with robbers an' the such. Yeh, Midinvaerne's a-comin', but this? I reckon it's too much. Wonder if we're gettin' any more ambassadors."

"Oy, quiet, you!" The fishmonger put his finger against his lips, a cryptic smile breaking across his lips. "Ya don't want anyone to hear 'at."

"What kinda peeps yer talkin' about?"

"Use that noggin a' yours, dipshit! E'er since the South made their move, some suspicious bastards've been showin' up in Cintra. Parasitical bastards. Ain't got enough guts to fight the troops, so 'ey resort to trickery and lies. I say their punishment is long overdue. To the stakes, I say. Oh, bless His Majesty's heart. Finally made the right decision."

***

The sailor finished munching his radish. He wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt and scurried away from the marketplace.

On his way to the city gates, he saw armed soldiers patrolling the streets. Every single person who looked and sounded foreign was stopped and interrogated. He saw a few groups of soldiers after traveling a short journey of a few hundred yards. And he saw a skulking hooded man and a merchant with a white hat, gold-rimmed glasses, and a Nazairian accent get taken away.

Dammit. The sailor cursed silently. He then turned his attention to the city gates.

There, a black, regal carriage stood. On its sides was a proud Cintran coat-of-arms. A group of knights stood around the carriage. They were muscular and equipped with plate armor. And the knights had stares as sharp as a falcon's.

The sailor sawthrough the gold-dotted curtainthe profile of a regal man. He knew that man. His face was printed on every Cintran coin.

Security around the city gates was tighter than ever. Before there were only five guards, but now there were fifteen. Even the crossbowmen on the city walls increased by quite a bit.

Every single person who went in or out was subjected to a thorough check. Any sign of suspicion, and they would be taken to prison like a criminal.

The sailor mused. Odd. He rubbed his chin and quickly hid under the overhang of the houses standing beside the streets. Through a dark alley he went, and eventually he came to a dilapidated two-storey bungalow.

Just when he was about to go inside and hide for a while, a commotion broke out, and his heart sank.

Three soldiers in chainmail armor were talking with a red-faced man with a beret on his head. The old man was gesticulating frantically, obviously describing the looks of a certain person.

The moment the sailor showed his face, one of the soldiers on the second floor fixed his eyes on him. "He's there! Get him!"

The soldiers came after the sailor like wolves. Shocked, the sailor darted into an alleyway. It was rancid and filled with trash, but he didn't care. The sailor ran for his life, but he couldn't escape. The soldiers who came after him roared for reinforcements, and their allies on the streets joined the hunt for the sailor.

"Halt, you scoundrel!"

"Curse you, spy! May you be cursed with malaria!"

The man's chest was heaving, and his breathing was ragged. Sweat poured like rain, but eventually, he managed to escape to the port.

But then a crossbow bolt whizzed through the air and bore a hole on the ground. It grazed his thigh, drawing blood.

The soldiers at the port came for him, their blades gleaming coldly despite the overcast skies.

Panic welled within the sailor's eyes. He surveyed his surroundings, but the ships belonged to Cintra. Should he try to escape on one, he would be caught immediately. And the soldiers were closing in. He had no way out.

No way but the vast ocean stretching before him.

The sailor clenched his teeth, steely resolve replacing the panic in his eyes. "May the gods bless me."

He charged straight at the port and flung himself into the deep blue. Bubbles popped on the surface for a few moments, and then everything around him disappeared. Slowly but surely, the sailor plunged into the sea, its icy chill engulfing all his senses.

***

A man with gold and grey eyes looked back at Roy in the mirror. Roy wiped the water off his face with a towel, and a smile curled his lips.

The gorgeous Lytta popped up. She rested her head on his shoulder and rubbed her cheek against his, her arms wrapped around Roy. A similar smile tugged at her lips. Her fiery-red hair brushed across Roy's cheeks, filling the air with the scent of roses.

"Going to the orphanage?" She chuckled and wriggled around like a young girl.

"Yeah. Evelyn's going to set up the ceiling today. I might have to help her out." Roy leaned back and cushioned himself in Lytta's chest.

"I can't believe you're going to be a botanist."

"I have nothing to do right now." Roy laughed. For the past month, Roy did nothing but build the garden up. He spent most of his time at the orphanage, helping Letho, Evelyn, and the kids out with the fields, pond, and greenhouse.

Eventually, the fields were modified according to Evelyn's vision. Sometimes he would take over the classroom and tell some stories to the new kids.

"It's been a month. What do you think of the druid?" Lytta asked curiously, lathering Roy's face with a layer of cool cream.

"She doesn't act like a lady, that's for su Coral, can you stop lathering my face with cream?" Roy turned around, complaining. His skin was smoother than most women's, thanks to his Full Recovery. There was no need for the cream.

"No. You gotta keep yourself young when you still have time. It will be too late when youre older. Look at your friends. Their faces are as rough as a blacksmith's whetstone.

Roy rolled his eyes and gave up arguing with Lytta. There was no point.

"Back to Evelyn," Lytta happily reminded.

"She's more determined than most men. And she's hardcore, strong, and full of energy. But she doesn't seem to be interested in anything besides plant stuff. Auckes and Lambert tried to woo her, but you know how that went."

The overzealous pair tried to ask the druid out for a drink outside working hours, but Evelyn refused. Eventually, she couldn't stand them anymore. She smacked the witchers with her staff and even posted an announcement outside her abode, prohibiting Auckes and Lambert from getting anywhere near her.

And Roy remembered something else. Sometimes, Evelyn would come to the orphanage and observe it in silence. Must be Calanthe's request. Here to observe the place, I see. If it passes her evaluation, Ciri can come here to play.

"That pair of fools aside, you're staying away from her, got it?" She lathered another type of cream on Roy's face.

"Yes, milady." Roy grinned.

"You're still a witcher, don't forget that. So take these. The boys must be eager to take these."

Roy received a row of tubes filled with colorful, translucent liquid. "Is this the pre-Trial?"

"Yes. Took Kalkstein and me a few months. Once the boys finish all twelve pre-Trials, it's on to the next step."

Roy's heart leapt. So it's finally time for a large-scale Trial.

"And bring back some mutagens. We're running low. The gargoyle heart and transmutation concoction need a lot of mutagens."

"Thanks for all your hard work, Coral."

"Oh, someone's sweet today." Lytta chuckled. A hint of approval shone in her eyes, and she kissed him. "Keep it up, and we can try it out in a tree hole next time."

Can we even do it in a tree hole? I'd rather do it on a roof at night, or on the balcony in the morning. Or even on a boat on the sea.

***

Roy returned to the orphanage and gave the four boys their pre-Trial. They happily showed it off to the new recruits and gulped the pre-Trial in one go.

And then they started spasming and foaming at the mouth like patients who had an episode of fits.

Felix would take care of the rest, while Roy walked through the alder woods that would lead him to the garden.

The garden had changed a lot, compared to how it was in the beginning. Seeds were planted in more than half the fields, and sprouts were already growing. Roy could imagine them growing completely in the near future.

A few wooden stakes stood tall in some spots, providing a place for climbing plants like conynhaela and purple living bone to stick to. The lower parts of the stakes were covered in herbs that preferred darker spaces. They would need nothing more than dappled sunlight to survive.

Roy turned his attention to the pond in the corner. It was more than ten meters in diameter, and plants like sweet flag, eelgrass, rough bugleweed, and fish wort were slowly growing within, not unlike baby fish swimming through water.

The center of the garden, where light shone the most, stood a greenhouse made of wood. It took up a quarter of the garden, and it was home to the plants hardest to grow.

"Come here, Roy!" Vicki was at the greenhouse's entrance, waving at Roy. Her hair swayed, her sweat glistening under the sunlight.

Renee, Conrad, Oreo, Terry, and Bhim were staring at the top of the greenhouse in excitement.

Roy approached the greenhouse, and Letho nodded. Kiyan, Auckes, and Serrit were around. The young witcher looked into the greenhouse.

It's spacious.

Evelyn was standing under the roof, her eyes closed. Her arms were spread, and she looked like she was feeling something. The druid looked like an oak covered in vines, surrounded by mountain Apollos, pale owl butterflies, and bees.

Beneath her feet stood petite boxes filled with soil, and sprouts grew within.

Roy took a quick look and saw five-leaf melilotes, a cluster of puffheads, sawcuts with black, arrow-shaped leaves, pondblood mosses that resembled feathers, raven's eyes with gleaming tubers, mousetail-orchids that had striped petals, reachclusters, which were the best ingredients for antidotes, and more.

There were about thirty types of them there. "A few more years, and we'll have all the ingredients we need for most decoctions."

And Evelyn suddenly moved. She swung her arms backward like a crane fluttering its wings. A few seeds fell to the ground, and the witchers' medallions hummed insanely, not unlike birds trying to flutter away.

Lights of magic blinked furiously, and a gleam of green flowed from Evelyn. The kids' eyes went wide, and their jaws dropped.

A web of magic spread through the greenhouse, the druid acting as its center. The web rained down on the seeds she just planted. Green threads connected her to the nature around her, and something magical happened.

Nature's magic blessed the seeds with the power of growth. In but a single moment, sprouts broke through the soil, reaching for the air. It was just a blink of an eye, but already the seeds had accomplished a few years' worth of growth.

Green vines broke through the ground, reaching and soaring into the sky. An invisible hand pushed them toward the walls at the top of the greenhouse, burying themselves within the cracks of the wood, merging the two of them together. With that done, the lower parts of the vines were pulled out and shot into the air. They met in the center, forming a green canopy with small cracks between the vines.

Evelyn heaved a long sigh of relief. She tensed up and knelt on one knee for one moment. And then she fell forward, her forehead drenched in sweat.

Roy cast Observe. He then found out Evelyn's Mana was exhausted after that short process. Now she was in a state of stupor.

The kids and Kiyan held her up. Evelyn gave them a smile of gratitude and started meditating.

Auckes and Lambert shook their heads, sighing in disappointment. "I can't believe it. She won't even give us a second of her time, but she'd happily chat with the ugliest of the team?"

"Ah, shut it, gruesome twosome. Kiyan's soul shines, and that's what she cares about. Now get these crystals up there." Letho whipped out a bunch of diamond-shaped crystals. The four witchers climbed up the walls like spiders and embedded these crystals within the cracks of the vines.

It was the best they could do. Covering the whole top of the greenhouse with crystals would waste too much money. The next best thing was to have a druid make them a magical vine roof they could adjust anytime they wanted.

These crystals would filter the harmful components of the sun out and provide the plants with enough light to grow and prosper.

***

Everyone looked around the greenhouse, happy with how it turned out.

"Thank you, Evelyn. Thanks to you, our garden finally looks presentable." The witchers thanked Evelyn, and so did the children.

"This is my job. And growing plants is training for me as well." She leaned on the wall and took a deep breath. The scent of plants made her lips curl in delight. "And now we've finished the hardest part. All I have to do now is cultivate and expand. For convenience's sake, I shall be staying in the garden."

"Evelyn, can I come here, then?" Vicki requested.

"Of course, kids. Learning more about plants helps with alchemy. And you too, Kiyan. You're always welcome." She beamed at Kiyan. A hint of something else shone in her eyes. She didn't mind his grotesque look. "As for everyone else, do not disturb me unless absolutely necessary."

Kiyan rubbed the back of his head and smiled dumbly. He looked sheepish for once.

"Let's go, kids. Nothing to see here." Auckes and Serrit exchanged a look. Well, not much we can do here. They picked up their hoes and led their apprentices back to the fields at the orphanage.

Roy and Letho exchanged a look. They reached the same conclusion.

Fate was amusing in its own cryptic ways. A disfigured witcher found himself a possible soulmate in the druid.

***

And that was the end of the garden's affairs. Once Roy returned to the orphanage, he and Felix set up a training regime. The boys had recovered from their pre-Trial. They, the new recruits, and Carl were taken to the marsh in Toussaint. First, the witchers had to hunt for mutagens, and second, they wanted to train these newbies.

***

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