So Sunny

"My name is Geralt, Geralt the White Wolf."

The stranger introduced himself with a smile and gestured invitingly toward the seat.

The boy sitting across from him, who looked about eleven or twelve, quickly changed seats and moved farther inside.

Geralt wore a worn leather jacket, with the stitching on one pocket coming loose and hanging down a little. Bandages were wrapped around his neck and shoulders. On his chest hung a round gray metal medallion on a silver chain, engraved with a snarling wolf's head.

Two weapons were strapped to his back. Kraun guessed they were one-handed swords.

The boy was dressed similarly, though he carried only one weapon. Their appearance was rather strange.

Coming to talk business with me? Interesting.

Although Kraun sensed no ill intent from the other man, he still instinctively slipped a hand into his coat pocket.

Touching the warm gun made him feel much more at ease.

He sat down without hesitation and set his medicine case on his thighs. In a firm tone, he said, "You're a stranger here. You don't even know what I do. Tell me, what business do we have to discuss?"

If you can't come up with a good reason, I'm turning on my heel and leaving.

Geralt didn't answer directly. Instead, he called loudly to the bar, "Barkeep, bring my friend here a mug of your finest rye beer, too."

"We can talk over a drink," the man said with a faint smile.

Though his hair was snow-white, he looked to be only about thirty.

The tavern server, Abel, was quick. He was already carrying a tankard over to the table. "Gentlemen, our finest rye beer. Twenty copper coins a mug."

Geralt reached into his coat and took out a small pouch. He counted out twenty-one copper coins and handed them over. "Keep the extra as a tip."

Abel's eyes lit up. He set down the tankard and accepted the coins with both hands. "Kind sir, may the Lord of Flame light your way."

"The world grows darker by the day. The Lord of Flame might not have time to light the way for us."

The boy muttered something very quietly, but in the noisy room, Kraun still heard him clearly.

His eyes narrowed slightly. A nonbeliever? Or are they followers of some other god?

In a world where the gods made their power known, "nonbeliever" was practically a synonym for "heretic." Kraun himself was a false believer. He didn't think the gods had time to answer people's prayers, but whenever he went to church, he still offered up a prayer while he was there.

At that thought, he lost patience. No matter which of the two these men were, he didn't want to deal with them any further.

Heretics were persecuted by the churches of every god. Followers of other gods didn't necessarily have any strange customs, but one wrong word could lead to the two of them coming to blows.

The white-haired man before him was powerfully built and muscular. With those scars on his face, he was clearly not someone to trifle with.

As if he hadn't noticed Kraun's impatience, Geralt pushed the tankard of fine dark beer toward him. "I mean no harm. I just want to make a friend."

Do you think I believe that? No one offers kindness without expecting something in return!

Kraun said nothing. He fixed the white-haired man with a piercing stare.

"Heh, don't look at me like that," Geralt said with an almost-smile. "My sense of smell is exceptionally keen. I caught the scent of an herb in the case you're carrying, and it's just what I need."

An herb? There's only one herb in my medicine case. You can smell it through two layers of wooden boxes? Are you a dog or something? A flicker of surprise crossed Kraun's eyes.

"Black Sage. I happen to need to replenish my supply. I'll buy as much as you have at fifty silver coins a plant."

At that, Kraun sat up straighter and cautiously replied, "I'm not selling it. But you can trade me the petals of a Blue Tulip."

"The Blood-Boiling Potion? Blue Tulips are more valuable than Black Sage, but I have no use for this Magic Plant, and I haven't stocked any."

Kraun's face broke into a smile. The other man was a Mystic, without a doubt!

How could an ordinary person know about a potion like the Blood-Boiling Potion?

He pointed toward the door behind the man and asked, "I don't have much stock on hand. I haven't been out gathering herbs these past few days. Have you tried asking the traveling merchants here?"

"The Gisai charge far too much. They think they can fleece me. We couldn't reach a deal."

Good news. I've run into two groups from the mystical world!

Kraun took a sip of dark beer, considered for a few seconds, then said, "I have some business to discuss with the Gisai. I'll settle it soon. In any case, I'll set aside two plants of Black Sage for you. Can you wait here for a while?"

He was still thinking about selling his ordinary potions. They were all very practical, and any merchant with a good eye wouldn't pass them up.

The Gisai were a nomadic people, and their knowledge was as wide-ranging as the places they had visited. Kraun was sure he could get a good price for his potions.

"No problem. We're staying at this tavern. There aren't any charming young women here, so I'll be drinking until closing time before I go to bed."

Geralt raised his tankard with a smile that any man would understand.

Kraun nodded lightly and smiled back. "I just ordered two roasted legs of lamb. We can share them with our new friends later."

He slung the medicine case's strap over his shoulder and headed for the back door.

The small wooden door, smeared with black grease, opened and closed. The light in Geralt's bright eyes dimmed. "Alan, do you resent me for getting you driven out of Kaer Morhen along with me? We no longer have a way to replenish our potions. You can't put off the Trial of the Grasses any longer, but I still haven't found an Alchemist to make your potions."

"Master, how could I resent you? If it weren't for you, I would have died at the claws of monsters when I was five, just like my family." The boy stopped eating, his expression solemn. "No matter what happens to you, in my heart you'll always be the same hero: upright and fearless, true to your word, and devoted to wiping out monsters!"

A relieved smile showed in the white-haired man's eyes, but his heart grew heavier still.

He sighed softly, his thoughts drifting back to the night everything changed.

"Master, Master." The boy's call brought the man back to himself.

"Master, why did you stop me from making a deal with that older fellow just now? Black Sage can no longer meet your needs, and I haven't undergone the Trial of the Grasses yet, so I don't need it."

Geralt closed his eyes, as if savoring something.

After a while, he opened them. "I felt something very pleasant from him. How should I put it... sunshine. He gave me the feeling of standing in the sun on a winter's day. The light was warm but not too strong, and everything felt wonderful."

"I didn't feel anything," Alan muttered, then bent over his meal again.

Lamb stew with potatoes, seasoned with pepper and thyme—the taste was enough to make a boy who'd spent days eating on the road drool.