The Divine Hunter

"Changed your mind? Finally willing to trade?" Gaunter looked at the witcher coldly, like a spider waiting for its prey to fall into its web.

Roy shook his head in disgust. "And get involved with you my whole life? No thanks. That's nightmare fuel. I have a counter proposal to get away from you forever. Let's have a bet." Roy had mixed feelings about it. He was fearful, but he pretended not to be, and yet he also felt adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Getting into a bet with the Master of Mirrors was like making a deal with a devil. No matter how grand he made his promises sound like, it was nothing compared to the payment he required. Vivienne told him how important and irreplaceable souls were. It was worth more than any wish. Not to mention he had no idea what Gaunter would do to his customers' souls. He might devour them instead of taking them on a 'great adventure.'

Roy had no intention to try, so he refused the offer. The problem was Gaunter threatened him with his friends, family, and parents who lived in Novigrad. He wanted to just abandon everything and do whatever he wanted, but that was not an option. He wasn't strong enough to be free of any constraints yet, so he went for a confrontation. Running away would just land him in bigger trouble.

Winner takes all in this bet. Loser gets nothing. "Wanna make a bet with me, Master of Mirrors? If you win, you can take my soul."

"A bet? Is that a challenge? This is the first time someone made that request in thirty years. I applaud your courage, child. What is your request then?"

"If I win, then I'll need the whole process for the Manticore School's Trial of the Grasses, including but not limited to the potion recipe and step-by-step instruction for the mutation and modification of the trial taker's body. And I'll also need a tried and proven guide to strengthen my Elder Blood."

Roy was worried Gaunter might take back the powers and treasures he granted someday if Roy made that wish after he won, but if all he asked for was a path to power, then the fruit of his labor would be his and nobody else's.

"A minute, please." Gaunter disappeared into thin air, like a mist that was blown away by the wind. All that was left was a yellow afterimage.

Roy froze, and his jaw dropped. What is this? Teleportation?

Gaunter reappeared a couple moments later. He smiled apologetically at Roy. "Thanks for waiting. The stuff for Elder Blood took longer than I thought, but I did it. I'm fine with those requests. Anything else you need?"

Roy stared into Gaunter's eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. "If I win this bet, then you'll have to leave this world and never come back. And you cannot use any of your power to approach or corrupt the world.”

"Sorry, mate," Gaunter interrupted, and a smirk curled his lips. "That's a bit too much, don't you think? Yes, you're a great customer, but you're not the only customer. This world is filled with people driven by nothing but their desires. It's more than I can even count." He mocked, "You expect me to give up a whole forest for a tree? To give up a whole garden for a single flower? To give up countless customers for one unique soul? You expect me to put myself in exile? No way." Gaunter wagged his finger, obviously refusing the proposal.

"You just said you can grant me any wish. Taking back your word so soon?"

"Ah, but I never said I couldn't haggle. This is an important part of business," Gaunter explained easily. "You're only as valuable as your soul, and your terms are now worth more than that. I can't go into a contract if I risk making a loss."

The witcher met his gaze for a moment, but Gaunter wouldn't let up. He sighed quietly and took a step back. "Fine. Change of terms. It won't be an eternal exile." Roy fell silent for a moment, trying to come up with the best duration. "If I win, you'll stay away from this world for a hundred years. And you're forbidden from trading with me or my friends and family."

A hundred years should be enough for my family to live their whole lives in peace. Most people I know won't live that long anyway. And if I'm still alive a hundred years later, I'll probably be strong enough to fight him.

Gaunter rubbed his chin. He was weighing his options, and Roy waited for his answer.

"The young witcher and Aryan's soul, eh?" Gaunter rubbed his hands together and nodded. "Change of terms. If I lose, I'll never come near the people you care about. Forever. I can write that into the contract, but I won't impose a self-exile. As for you, you'll have ten years of respite. Neither I nor the other… businessmen will come in contact with you."

"Ten years?" Roy massaged his temples and fell into his thoughts. I'm taking all the risks here. Can I grow strong enough to fight this guy in ten years? Still, at least the people I care about won't get dragged into Gaunter's deals now. "I have another ter—"

"That's no way to haggle, witcher."

"Really? Is my soul only worth that much? Besides, you said haggling is an important part of business," Roy insisted. "I took a step back, so now it's your turn, Gaunter. Or all bets are off."

"Very well. State your term. But don't cross the line. You know what I'm talking about." Gaunter relented. "Stay within that line."

Roy looked at the young man on the bed. "It's about Aryan. If you lose, you'll have to null his contract and change him back before you leave this world."

"As you wish, samaritan." Gaunted nodded, and his grin widened. "So we have a deal. What's the game then? Gwent?"

"No. A challenge. You've been observing me all this time. You should know I specialize in completing difficult requests. Give me a request." Roy tried to keep his voice from trembling. "But it'll have to be within my skill level. You can't make ridiculous requests like having a trout swim in fire or hunt a whale in the deep sea. Nothing like getting the moon or the stars either. It has to be reasonable."

"So many conditions." Gaunter mused about it for a while. "But it's fine. A challenge with no way out is a boring challenge anyway. Then let's make a deal." Gaunter waved his hand, and golden flames burned in the air. A yellowing parchment appeared out of nowhere and fell into Roy's hand.

At the same time, Gaunter wrote in the air, and lines of runes and words appeared on the parchment. It detailed all the terms and conditions of the bet. The contract was written in four different languages. There was Elder Speech, northern common speech, and a kind of written language Roy hadn't learnt before. It looked like esoteric runes. He had no idea what the words meant, but he could understand it when it formed a sentence. The language of demons? Gods? The fourth and final language was none other than English, the one Roy was familiar with. Hm, so this contract sees through my very being. It sees through my soul.

"Just a friendly reminder, witcher, but look very closely. Don't miss even a single word. I don't want you calling foul play and ruining this trade."

Roy read through the contract a few times, including the fineprint. When he confirmed that there were no loopholes Gaunter could use, he signed his name. He then bit his finger and put a bloody seal on it.

Right after he placed the seal, he could feel himself connected to the contract, as if something important to him was locked inside it. Gaunter beckoned, and the contract flew into his hand all furled up. He tucked it away.

"Can't I have a copy? And don't you have to sign it too?"

"No. This is the only copy, and I'm the contract itself. I can't betray myself."

Roy fell into a moment's silence. "Don't you have to brand me or something?"

"The contract's power is more than enough. No need for brands." Gaunter smiled. "But I can help you out if you want it. Maybe a victor's brand if you win this?"

"No." Roy shook his head. He put Gryphon the cat and that bloodstone into Letho's pocket.

"That's an interesting transfiguration, and you have a nice soul there too," Gaunter commented.

Roy was about to say something, but the last thing he heard was two claps, and everything went dark. He couldn't even see in front of him. The world itself started spinning, as if he were falling down a deep, dark abyss. He felt himself spinning around, and Roy felt like throwing up. He could feel a powerful, suffocating air current zipping past him. Huh. Feels like my first time going through a portal. "Has it begun?"

He didn't have time to think. A few moments later, the darkness was pierced by the light, and Roy could see again, but he found himself in a strange place. Roy was on a squalid patch of ground. The night sky above was overcast, the dim moonlight shining on a deserted wasteland. The place was littered with shrubs, shriveled trees, and gnarly stone formations.

"Where is this place?" Roy shouted at the sky. He pushed himself up, barely holding down the dizzy feeling in his head.

Gaunter's voice boomed everywhere around him. "You want to play? Let's play." He sounded like a jester going into a game. There was a hint of excitement in it. "I have a riddle for you. Solve it and grasp the answer in your hands. Do that, and you and Aryan will be freed. I'll stay away from you for ten years too."

"And what if I fail?" Roy looked around himself. He knew he had never been to anywhere like this, nor had he ever seen any place that resembled this wasteland. Still, it was a badland, and he felt depressed here.

Gaunter's maniacal laugh boomed around him. "Then a crazy and colorful adventure shall await us merry few. You said so, didn't you?"

"Tell me the riddle then." Roy took a deep breath and paid full attention.

"To all things men and I appertain, and yet by some am shunned and distained," Gaunter said, as if he were singing. As if he were reciting a poem.

"Fondle me and ogle me til you're insane, but no blow can harm me, cause me pain.

Children delight in me, elders, take fright. Fair maids rejoice and spin.

Cry and I weep, yawn and I sleep. Smile, and I too shall grin.

What am I?"

***

Roy stared at the ground and thought about it for a few moments. He smiled. "You're losing this bet."

"Is that so? I won't be so sure about it. But if you're so confident, then find me before the hourglass runs out of sand."

A petite hourglass fell into the witcher's hand out of the sky. He grasped it and held it close.

"I have a little gift for you before we begin. Just to make things fair. You're all banged up as is."

Roy could feel a warm sensation filling up his right chest, as if a masseur were relieving his clogged veins. He almost moaned from how comfortable it felt. The warmth went away eventually, and Roy touched his ribs. To his surprise, the injury he sustained from the battle with the Ladies was gone, and his ribs were good as new. He stretched his arms and moved around. His joints cracked. The young witcher took Gwyhyr and Aerondight out of his inventory and strapped them to his back.

He was about to do something else, but Gaunter laughed, stopping him in his tracks. "I see you're ready now. Let's begin! I've tucked away a lot of surprises on this journey. Have fun, and no cheating!"

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