Diary

Roy followed Faywen to the sitting room on the third floor of the school. When she stayed overnight, she slept in this room. Principal Cadell and the homeless student lived next door. But both rooms were empty now.

The woman led him inside. The room was much shabbier and more run-down than it looked from the outside. The plaster on the walls was cracked in several places, and moldy black spots were visible everywhere.

The furnishings were sparse: a table and chair, a wall clock, a full-length mirror, a wooden bed covered with a blanket... Against the wall at the back stood a large brown chest.

Faywen unlocked the chest and took out a stack of crumpled, yellowed sheets of cheap paper. She separated a small bundle and spread it across the wooden table.

"Read these diary entries, and you'll understand a little of how I feel."

Roy nodded and began reading in silence. Faywen sat beside him, her beautiful eyes tinged with nervousness. From time to time, she explained words he hadn't learned yet.

The handwriting on the pages was originally fine and elegant, but the quill used to write them was of the poorest quality. The ink was so bad that the letters often ran together into ugly, pitch-black smudges, badly marring the diary's neatness and appearance, though it was still legible.

"May 12, 1256

Today, that drunk turned the house upside down, but couldn't find a single Crown. He had no money to buy booze, and the tavern owner wouldn't let him run up any more debt. At last, he stayed sober for a day. It seemed that even his conscience, long since pickled in alcohol, had begun to recover a little.

It was like a scene from a dream! The four of us sat in our damp, pitch-dark little house and celebrated my poor mother's birthday with a single smoked fish.

Merciful Prophet Lebioda, please show me compassion and bless us with another birthday like this next year."

Four of them?

Roy rubbed his eyes, wondering if he'd read it wrong. Faywen, her drunken father, her mother, who was not in her right mind, and—

"Did you have a guest at home back then?" Roy glanced at Faywen. "Or was this a typo?"

"As far as I can remember, Mother never invited guests for her birthday. More precisely, ever since I can remember, the only people who came to the door were those demanding payment for his liquor debts. No one ever visited. As for the typo you mentioned..." Faywen's pretty face was calm. "I've always taught arithmetic at House of Cadell. If I can't tell three from four, what right do I have to stay? Keep reading."

Roy stayed patient and turned to another diary entry. This one was much shorter.

"January 20, 1257

He got into a fight with Mifen because Mifen insulted our father—that man had staggered to the school at dismissal time, dead drunk, demanding money from me. He spewed filth in front of everyone. He was more disgusting and detestable than even the Sparrow Gang's thugs and slavers.

I agree with Mifen. That drunk is a complete bastard."

Roy was curious about who this "he" referred to. From what the entry revealed, "he," like Faywen, also called that drunk his father. So it was indeed possible that he was Faywen's biological brother.

"August 19, 1257

Today, Principal Cadell, the elder I respect most, spoke with me. First, he praised my many years of service to the school, then encouraged me to keep working hard and nurture more outstanding students. My ultimate goal is to see an outstanding graduate enter Oxenfurt University. Even Principal Cadell has never managed that feat!

Then the principal brought up the matter of... and tactfully told me that I should pay ... a little more attention. As family, I could overlook any student at the school, but I shouldn't overlook him. Only then did I suddenly realize that my drunken father, my mother, who was often confused, and I had all unconsciously... overlooked him."

"Did you notice?" Faywen's slender finger suddenly pointed to a line in the diary. "Something's missing here."

"Yes, that is strange." A flicker of confusion crossed Roy's eyes. "There are two gaps in this entry. It says he talked about 'who'? And that I should pay more attention to 'who'?"

The two blank spaces had clearly been left there deliberately. It looked as if two names had originally been written there.

Faywen let out a breath. "So I'm not the only one who thinks so. It's obvious. What else could the missing words be but my brother's name?"

"Take a look at the others. There are a few more."

Faywen had found eight diary entries in all. Most shared the same feature: a mysterious "he" appeared throughout, yet not one entry mentioned his name or described his appearance or age.

But it was clear from the diary that he was close to Faywen and her family, and had once attended House of Cadell.

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

"That drunk got wasted again and started losing his temper. He slapped me and grabbed me by the throat, demanding money. I thought he was really going to strangle me. I shoved him away with all my strength before I choked, then ran out of the house in tears.

...was worried about me and followed me out. We ran to the school together and talked all night.

That night, a lot of leaves fell from the Horn Tree."

Roy leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples as he sorted through the jumble of information in his mind.

His first impression was that one of the diary entries completely contradicted what Principal Cadell had told him that afternoon. Principal Cadell didn't acknowledge that Faywen had a biological brother, so why would he tell her to look after someone who didn't exist?

And Roy recalled the scene clearly: Principal Cadell hadn't seemed to be lying at all. If anything, the woman beside him, with her sudden mood swings and somewhat neurotic behavior, made him more suspicious.

A thought suddenly surfaced in Roy's mind. Principal Cadell, Uncle Tross, Henk from the Mill, and the diary all confirmed that Faywen had a drunken, abusive father and a mother whose mental state was unstable. With both factors at play, could this seemingly flawless woman, in both appearance and personality, have some kind of psychological disorder herself?

If that was the truth, everything made sense.

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

Roy watched her expression. The woman's full chest rose and fell as she breathed rapidly, her beautiful eyes filled with anticipation.

"Did 'he' show up in any diary entries after October 4, 1258?"

"No. 'He' disappeared from my world completely." Faywen slowly shook her head, disappointment hard to hide on her pretty face. "The earliest I can trace his appearances is before 1256, but the gaps between those earlier entries are too long to be of much use."

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

"November 1, New Year's Day."

Roy took a deep breath. "So 'he' may well have been in an accident sometime between October 4 and New Year's, in that period of less than a month."

"Yes, I think so too." Faywen's voice trembled. "Roy, what do you think now? Considering it from the perspective of a Witcher apprentice, do you believe me? Or do you think, like everyone else, that I'm a lunatic who made up a ridiculous family member who exists only in my imagination?"

Roy considered it for two seconds, deciding not to upset her.

"There are many strange things in this world that can't be explained by common sense. So, Faywen, I believe you. I'll make time to investigate what happened to 'him.'"

Although Roy already had a general idea, he couldn't jump to conclusions. He had only Faywen's word to go on, and needed to find more solid evidence to support his conclusion and prove that it was all something Faywen had imagined.

The woman pressed a hand to her chest and let out a long breath. Her beautiful eyes showed a hint of gratitude as she clasped Roy's hand tightly.

"I've heard about the Witchers' code. I'll prepare a reward."

"No, we can talk about the reward later." Roy didn't want to be a bleeding heart, but Faywen was almost entirely selfless, devoting herself wholeheartedly to House of Cadell. If he could help, he'd lend her a hand.

As long as there wasn't too much danger. He remembered the Witchers' principle: don't take on a target you can't defeat. He'd make an initial assessment first.

"Then I'll leave it to you. Help me find 'him.' But first, be careful. And don't tell anyone else."

"I understand."