Diary

Roy followed Faywen to the living room on the third floor of the school. This was the room she stayed in when she slept over at the school. Principal Cadell's room, for students without a home, was next door. But now, both were empty.

The woman led him into the room. The interior was much simpler and more dilapidated than it appeared from the outside. Cracks marred the walls in multiple places, and black spots of mold were visible everywhere.

The furnishings were sparse: a table and chairs, a wall clock, a full-length mirror, a wooden bed covered with a blanket... A large brown wooden chest was placed against the far wall.

Faywen used a key to open the chest, took out a stack of wrinkled, yellow, poor-quality paper, and then separated a small pile from it, spreading it out on the wooden table.

"After reading these few diary entries, you'll understand a little bit of how I feel."

Roy nodded and began to read in silence. Faywen sat beside him, her beautiful eyes showing a hint of nervousness, occasionally explaining words he hadn't learned yet.

The handwriting on the paper was originally delicate and beautiful, but the quill used was of the lowest quality, and the ink was so poor that the characters occasionally smudged together into unsightly black blobs, greatly detracting from the diary's neatness and aesthetic appeal, though it didn't hinder readability.

"May 12, 1256

Today, that drunkard turned the house upside down. He couldn't find a single Crown. No money for alcohol, and the tavern owner wouldn't let him charge it anymore. He was sober for a whole day, and his conscience, long rotted by alcohol, seemed to show a glimmer of recovery.

It was like a scene from a dream! Our family of four sat in our dark, damp hut, celebrating my poor mother's birthday with a single smoked fish.

Merciful Prophet Lebioda, please grant me pity and bless our family so we can have such a birthday next year too."

A family of four?

Roy rubbed his eyes, wondering if he had misread. Faywen, her drunkard father, her disoriented mother, and—

"Did you have a guest that day?" Roy glanced at Faywen. "Or was this a slip of the pen?"

"As far as I recall, my mother's birthday never involved any guests. To be more precise, since I can remember, no one has ever visited our home except those demanding payment for alcohol. As for your mention of a slip of the pen," Faywen's pretty face was calm, "I've always been in charge of arithmetic lessons at Cadell House. If I can't distinguish between three and four, what face do I have to stay here? Keep reading."

Roy patiently shifted his gaze to another diary entry. This record was much shorter.

"January 20, 1257

He got into a fight with Mifen because Mifen insulted our father—that guy, still drunk, came to the school during dismissal time looking for money, and spewed filth in front of everyone. He was more disgusting and annoying than any Sparrow Gang thug or human trafficker. I agree with Mifen, that drunkard is a complete scoundrel."

Roy was curious who "he" referred to. Based on the text, "he" also called the drunkard "father," just like Faywen. So, it was indeed likely Faywen's brother.

"August 19, 1257

Today, Principal Cadell, my most respected elder, spoke with me. First, he affirmed my contributions to the school over the years, then encouraged me to continue working hard and strive to nurture more outstanding students. My ultimate goal is to have an outstanding graduate enter Oxenfurt University, a feat even Principal Cadell couldn't achieve!

Then, the Principal mentioned... and subtly told me that I should appropriately care for... As a relative, even if I neglect any student at school, I shouldn't neglect him. It was only then that I suddenly realized that my drunkard father, my often-confused mother, and I had all unknowingly... neglected him."

"Did you notice?" Faywen's slender finger suddenly pointed to a line in the diary. "This part is missing some content."

"Yes, it's very strange." A hint of confusion flashed in Roy's eyes. "There are two places in this diary entry that are left blank. Who were they talking about? Who should I appropriately care for?"

These two blanks were clearly left intentionally, as if two names were originally supposed to be there?

Faywen breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew it wasn't just me thinking this. It's obvious, what else could the missing content be but my brother's name?"

"Take a look, there are a few more entries."

Faywen found a total of eight diary entries. Most shared a common characteristic: a mysterious "he" ran through them. Strangely, none of them mentioned "his" specific name, nor described "his" appearance or age.

However, it was clear from the diary that "he" was close to Faywen and her family and had attended school at Cadell House.

The last entry was dated October 4, 1258, less than half a month before today's date.

"That drunkard got drunk again and started throwing a tantrum, slapping me and choking me to demand money. I felt like he was going to strangle me. Before I suffocated, I pushed him away with all my might and fled home in tears.

... worried about my safety, followed me. We ran to the school together and talked all night.

That night, the hornbeam tree shed many leaves."

Roy leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples, organizing the chaotic information in his mind.

His first thought was that one of the diary entries completely contradicted Principal Cadell's statement that afternoon. Principal Cadell didn't acknowledge Faywen having a brother at all, so why would he instruct her to care for someone who didn't exist?

Moreover, Roy recalled the scene at the time. Principal Cadell didn't seem to be lying at all. On the other hand, the woman beside him, with her sudden outbursts and somewhat neurotic behavior, made him more suspicious.

A thought suddenly occurred to Roy: Principal Cadell, Uncle Tross, Henk from the mill, and the diary all confirmed that Faywen had a father who was a violent drunkard and a mother with unstable mental health. With these two factors combined, was it possible that this woman, who appeared and behaved impeccably on the outside, suffered from some psychological disorder herself?

If this was the truth, then everything made sense.

Compared to the idea that Faywen had a mysterious brother, Roy was more inclined to believe that her mental state was problematic.

Roy observed her expression. The woman's chest heaved, her breathing was rapid, and her beautiful eyes were filled with anticipation.

"Did 'he' appear in the diary entries after October 4, 1258?"

"No, he disappeared from my world completely after that," Faywen shook her head, her pretty face unable to hide her disappointment. "Going back further, 'he' only appeared before 1256, but I don't think the diary entries before that are too far apart to be of any reference value."

Roy tapped the table with his index and middle fingers. "After October 4th, what's the date of the next closest diary entry?"

"November 1st, New Year's Day."

Roy took a deep breath after hearing this. "So 'he' most likely had an accident in the less than a month between October 4th and New Year's Day."

"Yes, I think so too," Faywen's voice trembled. "Roy, what are your thoughts now? From the perspective of a Witcher apprentice, do you believe me? Or do you, like everyone else, think I'm a lunatic who fabricated a ridiculous relative who only exists in imagination."

Roy considered for two seconds, deciding not to provoke her.

"There are many strange things in this world that cannot be explained by common sense, so Sister Faywen, I believe you. I will take some time to investigate 'his' whereabouts."

Although Roy already had a general idea in mind, he couldn't jump to conclusions. After all, he only had Faywen's testimony. He needed to find more concrete evidence to support his conclusion and prove that it was all just Faywen's imagination.

The woman placed a hand on her chest and let out a long sigh, her beautiful eyes showing a hint of emotion as she tightly grasped Roy's hand.

"I've heard of the Witcher's rules. I'll prepare the reward."

"No, we'll talk about the reward later." While Roy didn't want to be a do-gooder, for someone like Faywen, who was almost entirely selfless and dedicated to the House of Cardale, he would lend a hand if he could.

Provided there wasn't too much danger. He remembered the Witcher's principles: don't choose targets you can't defeat. He needed to do a preliminary survey first.

"Then I'll be counting on you. Please help me find 'him.' But your safety is your priority. And don't tell anyone else."

"I understand."