It was the first day of the year 1261. The sun was shining brightly on the land of Ellander. Letho and Roy were walking on the path toward the temple that was hidden behind the great boulders.

“The religion of Melitele is one of the oldest in the continent, but its origin is lost in history,” Letho said. “A long, long time ago, every tribe had their own harvest goddess. The goddess protected the fields and sanctioned every marriage. The worship of Melitele gave the goddess power, and the ministers in her temple carried out their duties ever since.”

When they arrived at the temple’s garden, they saw the priestesses busy with their chores. They were harvesting the turnips, tending to the garden, and feeding the livestock. Most of the priestesses were young, and some were still children. Some of the friendlier ones smiled at them. Some even nodded. Even though witchers were frowned upon by most of the world, they saw none of that discrimination from the priestesses. They were just curious about Letho, and their kindness was a welcomed change.

Roy was surprised to see everyone looking so happy despite the chaos that was going on, while Letho actually smiled. “Melitele’s temple is filled with adorable priestesses. Women flock to this place every year, while some leave the temple to become clairvoyants, midwives, healers, proselytizers, and teachers. Some even became herbalists in villages around the world.”

“They lead a good life,” Roy commented. Living a farmer’s life, learning how to read, and mastering a trade was the perfect life everyone wanted to lead. At least in that era, that was the case. Mother Nenneke has managed the temple well.

“The temple provides a lot of protection for the underprivileged. That’s why everyone in the north and the isles respect them.”

“What about the south, then?”

“The cult of the Great Sun is the dominant religion after Emhyr had risen to the throne. Every other religion is oppressed.”

“Letho? Roy?” someone interrupted. A young, curvy, freckled priestess came out to welcome them. She looked at them both before deciding to look Roy in the eyes. “Mother Nenneke has been waiting. Please come with me.”

“Good morning, Miss Iola.” Roy went over Letho to greet the priestess with a friendly smile. There was a faint scent of chrysanthemum coming from her.

“Have we met before?” Iola stopped in her tracks and threw him a look of doubt. Her gleaming eyes reminded Roy of nymphs. She had the air of those legendary creatures. A few years ago, after Geralt had lifted the curse of a striga in Vizima, he’d come to the temple to recuperate. It was also then that he’d slept with Iola. Geralt’s a fuckboy, that’s for sure, Roy thought.

He asked, “Do you remember Geralt? The one who came from Vizima? The one that made you break your vow of chastity?”

“Geralt from Vizima?” Iola froze. Her eyes were filled with reminiscence, sadness, and a faint tinge of fear. She was reminded of the days she spent with Geralt, who plunged her into a deep dilemma.

***

A circle of white candles surrounded the inner temple, and a statue of Melitele stood ahead of them. A few devout believers were praying to her, mumbling to themselves.

“So you’re Roy.” A pudgy, grey-haired woman in an oversized red robe came from the side. She looked like she was in her fifties, but Roy knew that Nenneke was already over a hundred years old. Geralt even saw her as his mother. Her gaze was warm and welcoming, attracting those who came close to her.

“Hello, Mother Nenneke. I’m Roy, from Aedirn.” Roy bowed deeply. He had always thought of Nenneke as a saint, someone he should respect.

“You cheeky boy.” Nenneke patted his shoulder softly. “What did you say to Iola? She looks heartbroken.”

“I just told her she was beautiful. That’s all.”

“You and your little secrets. We did treat a lot of patients here, but not once did we ever accept a request for the Trial of the Grasses. It’s cruel, painful, and inhumane.”

Not once, huh? What did Letho do to gain her favor? Just something he did for her in the past?

“I need to confirm something. You’re giving up the life of a normal human, becoming sterile, and taking part in this painful trial out of your own will, right?” She gave Letho a stern look. “This man here didn’t force you to become his disciple so you can inherit his legacy, did he?”

I wonder if I’ll really be sterile. Roy didn’t think it was a problem, since he was still young. And he could probably wave his sterility away with the character sheet in the future. He was also prepared for the pain that would come. 

“I’m doing this out of my own free will,” Roy emphasized. “I’ve been learning from Letho for months, and I’m sure I want to do this. I want to have the power to kill monsters and protect the people I love. I want to see the world without any worries.” Roy was adamant about undergoing the trial. His eyes were gleaming, as if stars were embedded in them.

“That dream of yours is going to bring you nothing but pain. You’ll be burned out by the life of a vagrant.

“Then I shall accept the price I have to pay. Besides, nobody can be sure what the future will bring.”

Nenneke was slightly disappointed that she didn’t manage to convince Roy. “As stubborn as your mentor. Either you’re really brave or really stupid. I hope you won’t regret this. That is, if you can get through the trial in the first place.”

“I will never regret this.”

“Let’s see if you can still say that after the trial has begun, brat,” Letho suddenly hollered.

“Of course I can.” Roy thumped his chest. “I’m never gonna give up, even if that’s the last thing I do, or my name is not Roy!” Well, technically, my name isn’t really Roy, but you get the drift.

Then they went into the inner sanctum with Nenneke leading them. On the way there, Roy huddled closer to Letho. “What did you do, anyway?” he whispered. “She doesn’t seem like someone who’d make any exceptions.”

“It happened twenty years ago. Just by coincidence.” Letho was inscrutable.

“Is that so?”

“Alright, fine. I helped her out and told her the secrets of the school. Nenneke is an excellent potion maker and alchemist. She’s interested in our decoction’s recipe and how it causes the mutation in witchers.”

The decoction’s recipe, huh? That’s every school’s secret. Roy was reminded of something that would happen in the future. Someday in the future, a gang called Salamandra would infiltrate Kaer Morhen to take the Wolf School’s decoction recipe. They wanted to use that to make an army of mutants and take over the throne, but it ended in failure. The decoction’s recipe was the heart of a school, so they’d never let anyone take it so easily.

“Isn’t the recipe the heart of a school? Why’d you let her look into it?”

“Because we lack new recruits,” Letho answered. “And our school in Nilfgaard is on its last legs. If we can’t get any new recruits, the recipe is as good as useless.” He gave Roy a hopeful look. “But everything will be worth it if you can get through the trial. Besides, I only gave her the copy. The original’s still with us.” He held his necklace.

“‘Get through’ the trial?” Roy noticed that detail. He licked his lips, feeling pressured. “How long does the trial take, in most cases?”

“It’s a case-by-case basis. If your body and will are strong enough, and nothing happens in the process, two to three months should do it. But if you’re unlucky, it might take six months to a year. Most candidates die in the process.”

Then they arrived at a cavern. It spanned a hundred feet in length and width, while crystals covered the ceiling. The crystals blocked out the harmful rays of the sun, providing enough light for the herbs to grow and bloom gorgeously.

“Right, let’s see what we have here.” Five-leaf melitotes, and the pots there have puffheads. Oh, and this long, black leaf here’s a sawcut. There’s also bloodmoss there, and are those raven’s eyes? They’re gleaming. The flower with the striped petals there is a mouse-tail orchid, and that’s reachcluster. It’s perfect for antidotes.

Roy cast Observe on the plants there and noticed there were more than two hundred types. All the herbs were what they needed for the trial. It was a shame there weren’t any herbs that could raise his stats.

“Take a look, you two.” Nenneke tightened her robe around her belly and looked at the cavern of herbs. “Tell me what you need.”

Letho stopped her. “Hold on a second, Nenneke. Any news about the sorcerer? If he undergoes the trial without a sorcerer beside him, the mutations will be extremely unstable, and it’ll cause a lot of complications down the road.”

“Yes, yes, I remember that. You ask a lot from me.” Nenneke heaved a sigh. “I’ve sent a message to a suitable candidate. She’s a royal advisor in Kerack. Every few months, she comes to the temple, and we talk about herbs. If I’m right, she should be here in a couple of days, but I can’t guarantee she’ll help you.”

Roy gave it some thought. He vaguely remembered Kerack as a seaside nation located northwest of Brokilon. Who’s the sorceress again? Can’t remember. He was looking forward to it.