Our king has recently given you a long holiday and you're looking for soone to travel with, I'm available to oblige."
Triss's voice, like the chi of silver bells, ca through the stone. "That's a very tempting offer, but unfortunately, no."
Lynn sighed. "A sha. All right, what's so important?"
"I have a very critical commission that requires your help."
"Just tell where, and we'll discuss the details in person."
Outside a village not far from Maribor, the light of a portal suddenly tore through the air. A witcher and a sorceress stepped out of it one after the other. With Lynn's current powerful physique, passing through a portal no longer caused any discomfort.
Triss entered the village first to retrieve two fine steeds she had left with the village elder. The two of them then mounted their horses and rode toward Maribor.
"Can we talk about that important commission now?"
Triss then told Lynn about how Foltest had been marked with the Deep Sea Mark and how, after arriving in Maribor, a city far from the sea and deep inland, his condition had only worsened.
"The Deep Sea Mark is a result of the gaze of the Elder God Dagon, and Dagon is a god of the deep sea. He should have no power on land."
"But I don't know why, after Foltest arrived in Maribor, he didn't improve at all. He only got worse."
After listening to Triss's troubles, Lynn gave a wry smile. "So, you ca to , hoping I can help you lift the Elder God's curse?"
Triss certainly had a high opinion of him. The last ti he had helped a noble with a similar problem was in Toussaint.
And even that case, where the Duchess of Toussaint was afflicted by a demonic power, wasn't caused by a demon's direct action. It was from a desperate elven king who, centuries ago, had prayed for a demon-blessed weapon which, by so strange coincidence, hard Duchess Corroberta. This was a completely different matter from King Foltest's current situation.
Still, since Triss had sought him out, Lynn would naturally do his utmost to help. However, he was curious.
"Why didn't you take the King to Marguerite? Aren't you old schoolmates?"
Typically, in a situation like this, people would think a sorcerer was more suitable than a witcher. After all, witchers were initially created to be warriors who would stand on the front lines, hunting monsters in place of ordinary soldiers.
As warriors, they were naturally thought to have no need to learn or master knowledge unrelated to monsters. Not to ntion that the lineage of every witcher school had been broken at so point, unlike the sorcerers' continuous magical tradition.
Triss shook her head with a bitter smile. "Marguerite would not allow anyone to bring such danger to the Aretuza Academy, because Marguerite is like Tissaia—they both care more about their students than they do about kings."
Truthfully, Triss herself didn't know why she was so convinced that Lynn could solve this problem. But she truly had no better option. She could only choose to believe in Lynn.
"Maybe it's not as bad as you think."
After reassuring Triss, Lynn began to recall what he knew. He rembered clearly that this event was not in the original story. The Elder God Dagon in the gas simply waited patiently at the bottom of Lake Vizima for the White Wolf to co and cause trouble.
But this reality was not a ga, and it didn't have to follow the sa 'rules.' In theory, Triss was correct; being far from the coast should have kept him safe from Dagon's gaze. Since Foltest's condition had worsened, it could only an one thing:
Just like when a local Terian killed Foltest's sister and wife and turned his daughter into a monster, there was soone in Maribor who didn't want Foltest to thrive.
An hour later, the walls of Maribor ca into view. With Triss leading the way, no guard dared to stop them. The two rode unimpeded all the way to the manor where the King was staying.
"Your Majesty, where is Keira?"
Triss looked around, noticing that besides the King's personal guards, the other royal advisor, the sorceress, was not in the room.
"While you were away, I felt the call of the deep again. Keira used a great deal of her power to wake . She's gone to rest now."
"Your Majesty, if you'll excuse , I'll go check on her."
After the sorceress left, Foltest looked at Lynn. "Witcher," Foltest's face was even worse than when Triss had left, and it hadn't even been a day. "You really are my lucky star. Last ti, one of your kind saved my daughter. It seems now, my own life will have to depend on you, too."
Lynn knew Foltest was referring to the striga incident that had taken place in the old palace years ago.
Foltest's daughter had died at birth, taking her mother with her. Foltest had then buried them both in the royal catacombs beneath the palace. Seven years later, the dead infant miraculously revived, but in the form of a striga.
The King had summoned many wise n, hoping to resolve the problem. Most of the advisors had given him various suggestions to kill the striga, but one hunchbacked hermit believed the princess could be saved and had gone into the catacombs himself. Sadly, when dawn broke the next morning, little remained of the hermit's body save for his hat and cane, which lay on the ground.
Though the hermit had failed, Foltest clung to the idea like a lifeline. From then on, he forbade anyone from killing her. If they ca for the reward, they could only lift the striga's curse and not harm the princess. This demand was so strict that even the enormous prize of three thousand orens attracted a crowd of people, but none could fulfill it.
Foltest hung the swindlers on the palace railings, while the others were eaten by the striga.
Since no one could lift the curse and the striga was too dangerous, Foltest had been forced to move out of the palace and build a new one. The striga had plagued the old palace for seven years, until the renowned White Wolf, Geralt, heard of the commission and ca to Vizima.
He did indeed satisfy Foltest's request, lifting the curse without using a sword and turning the striga back into a princess.
.............
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