Melitele Goddess Above (Part 1)

The Temple of Melitele's guest rooms were spacious and well lit. Once the shutters were opened, sunlight poured into the room, and the warm breeze was almost intoxicating.

On the morning of his third day there, Victor sat at the desk by the window, deep in thought as he held the letter Catherine had brought him. Several key names kept turning over in his mind... Knight Tylles... Prince Hereward... Mother Nenneke... and Geralt of Rivia.

The widespread discrimination against witchers in this world arose from a tangled mix of factors. But one thing was certain: the wiser a person was, the more they understood and valued the worth of witchers. It was those ignorant fools, fed by hearsay and wildly exaggerated fantasies, who freely indulged the venom in their hearts.

What had happened was not particularly complicated. Angoulême had not needed much time to piece together the answer. In short, it was the story of a prejudiced idiot abusing public authority and then humiliating himself. The troublesome part was that, because he had abused that authority, it involved the question of legal jurisdiction between the local ruler and the temple.

Still, there was no need to hurry. The boy knew he had plenty of time to consider a response. As long as he remained in the temple, he would be safe. The most likely thing Knight Tylles would do was come by to probe when he planned to leave, then set up an encirclement in the forest—just as he had done before.

The matter was certainly troublesome, but Angoulême's proposed solution had to be rejected. Assassination was not the best answer here. A Knight of the White Rose with an official post being assassinated while all his subordinates knew that, before his death, he had been trying to cause trouble for a witcher apprentice—how stupid would someone have to be to use such extreme measures at a time like this?

With that in mind, beneath the line rejecting her suggestion, he added another sentence to his reply: "Double the afternoon reading time. Prioritize history."

The boy rolled the completed letter into Catherine's leg ring, then gently shook the silver band from side to side. Clever Catherine slightly raised one claw, like a queen allowing a servant to put on her shoe, so Victor could fasten it around her leg. Then he watched her spread her wings and fly away.

Leaving his room and descending the stone stairs, Victor politely nodded greetings to the priestess students who had come here for training, but never stopped to speak with them. After three days, the boy had come to understand them somewhat.

Though they were all still very young—some were even younger than Victor—most of them were far more mature than he had imagined. A few of the bolder ones even pointed and whispered about Victor's still-developing but healthy, well-proportioned physique.

When he asked Mother Nenneke whether having a young man like him living here might cause problems, the priestess replied evenly, "This is the Temple of Melitele! Not some secluded retreat, nor an ordinary convent. Our goddess does not punish priestesses for anything. Anything.

"If you do not want it, remember to lock your door before bed every night."

Victor had certainly not come here looking for thrills, so he made sure to lock his door properly every night. Thus, wearing a polite but distant smile, he passed through the girls' blockade of gazes and headed for the "greenhouse" at the rear of the mountain. At this hour every day, Mother Nenneke would be there tending the plants.

Slightly sweaty, the boy unfastened several buttons of his linen shirt. Sunlight streamed through crystal panels set into the cave ceiling, making the interior very warm—hot, even. Breathing the sticky, humid air, Victor moved among enormous flowerpots, cabinets, and troughs with growing familiarity.

He had liked this place the first time he saw it. It was simply incredible, an eye-opening cave greenhouse adapted under the limited conditions of the medieval age, cultivating countless herbs he had only read about in books and believed had long gone extinct.

Among these lost plants, he recognized five-leaved sweet clover, dense clusters of puffball mushrooms growing in pots, and sneezeweed with blood-red berries hanging from its tender branches.

After passing several large vats in the center of the cave, filled with saprophytic algae and duckweed, Victor saw Mother Nenneke with her sleeves rolled up, tending these delicate plants with scissors and a bone stick.

"Mother, I'm here." Victor smiled and picked up his own set of tools. He was exchanging labor for Nenneke's casual explanations while she worked.

Nenneke said kindly, "Child, you could have slept a little longer!"

"It's all right. You know, a witcher apprentice in good health has plenty of stamina. And working alongside you has taught me a great deal!"

"Your modesty and eagerness to learn are truly endearing. You are nothing like that little rascal from back then. Is this really the temperament of Ciri's sworn younger brother!?"

Mother Nenneke was an elder worthy of respect. Two days ago, during a conversation after their rest, Victor had learned with surprise that Ciri had also studied here several years before, once enjoying a youthful springtime much like those female students.

Yennefer had originally come here at Geralt's request, specifically to teach Ciri how to control her primal magic. Yet the two, equally sensitive, proud, and stubborn, had unexpectedly forged a deep bond like that of mother and daughter amid the fierce clash of their emotions.

Through those conversations as well, after Mother Nenneke confirmed Victor's close relationship with Ciri, the boy could clearly feel that the temple's gates had only then truly opened to him.

Because of it, he could enter the greenhouse to work with Mother Nenneke, read the temple's extensive accumulated collection in the library, and, after proving his alchemical skill, Nenneke had even permitted him free use of the temple's alchemy laboratory...

He had felt that same affectionate trust from Vesemir. So when faced with Nenneke's question, if he could answer honestly, he would not conceal anything.

"As for that relationship, she was the one who decided on it unilaterally."

"Oh... so you have some other particular view?"

"I have looked after her far more than she has ever looked after me... In fact, I doubt she can look after anyone. She cannot even raise a turtle properly."

"Oh, you know that is not what I meant."

"I know, but I do not mean it that way. At least, not before she left."

"What a pity. I have quite a good impression of you, child."

As they chatted, his scissors snipped away several sprawling leaves and branches. After considering it, Victor decided he should tell Nenneke about Knight Tylles in advance.

"Mother, there is something I think I must tell you first."

Nenneke turned her head and glanced at Victor's solemn expression, smiling gently. "Say it if you want to. No need to be so serious—you are frightening me."

Rubbing his nose, Victor said, "Before I came here, I went to Ellander first to collect the bounty for the Nekker... The clerk at city hall warned me then that there was a Knight Tylles in the city who was extremely hostile toward witchers and told me to leave as soon as possible."

Victor paused slightly, hoping to hear the priestess's reaction. But Mother Nenneke's hands did not stop working for even an instant, so the boy could only continue.

"I am worried this may bring trouble to the temple..."

"Pfft!" The bone stick plunged into a flowerpot and pulled several rotten, withered roots from the soil. Mother Nenneke tossed them into a basket for decaying plants.

Her voice carried an inviolable authority. "There is no trouble! In this temple, I am the one who gives orders. You may stay for as long as you wish."