The One Who Ignited the Eternal Fire

Victor and Shani had a fulfilling chat over lunch. She was an energetic, open-minded, compassionate physician.

With herb pouches slung over their shoulders, the two exchanged names and easily found a common topic—the Catriona Plague unfolding before their eyes.

After sharing many observations about plague symptoms and treatment, the physician politely told the witcher apprentice that her purpose in leaving the city that morning to gather herbs had been fulfilled. Now that lunch was over, she needed to return to the hospital and continue her work.

There was no lingering reluctance. The boy rose with her and courteously escorted her to a point not far from the city gate before saying goodbye and leaving.

Although Doctor Shani was one of the few special people who could freely enter and leave through the city gates, Victor had no intention of asking her for help. No matter how well their conversation had flowed, they had only just met.

Still, merely getting to know the female physician was enough to brighten Victor's mood. Seeing her felt like unexpectedly running into a celebrity he liked while out shopping—

"Ah! So this was Miss Shani, who had so many sincere romantic scenes with Geralt in the game. Even though they didn't end up together, the journey really was romantic!

Whenever I played Geralt, I always broke up with her with a touch of melancholy, then turned around and swore eternal love to Triss or Yennefer.

Sigh... Geralt really was a sinful man.

And by the way, Melitele above, Shani had an amazing figure!"

Smiling as he replayed frame after frame of their conversation in his mind, Victor suddenly sensed a faint, subtle note of discord.

It was like watching a square dance from above: when a thousand people enthusiastically turned right, one person alone turned left.

Yet when he seriously thought back on it, that sense of discord felt vague and insubstantial. He had no idea where it came from. After finding no answer no matter how much he pondered it, he could only set it aside for the time being.

Late at night, after the patrolling guards passed by, Victor followed a Fire Lizard Gang member called "Red Dog" into the cool moat of the summer night. They climbed over a fence that looked intact but had actually been sawn through, then slipped into Vizima's spacious, foul-smelling sewers.

Spacious, because the elves had built them wide enough for five people to walk abreast. Foul-smelling, because they concentrated the essence of the city's residents in one place, creating an odor both powerful and overwhelming.

The entire sewer system lay deep underground, dense as a spiderweb maze. Without someone familiar with it to lead the way, a first-time traveler could easily get lost. Thinking of the ghouls or Kikimoras that might lurk below, the boy did not even dare apply his nasal ointment, because their strong, distinctive odors were the best warning signs.

Enduring the sting in his nose, he silently followed Red Dog onward while reflecting on the gains and losses of his day's actions.

At noon in the tavern kitchen, when Old Cold Legs mentioned proving one's piety to the priest through sufficient devotion, Victor had instinctively assumed it was a problem that could be settled with the "Oren technique."

Unfortunately, he had been slapped in the face by a priest of the Eternal Fire.

Founded centuries ago in the free city of Novigrad, the Eternal Fire Church bore as its primary symbol an ever-burning flame representing hope. Over the past few years, it had gradually become a mainstream religion with powerful influence throughout the Northern Kingdoms.

Its worshippers believed that the undying flame was a symbol of survival, a guide through darkness, and a promise of a better tomorrow. Thus, the blazing fires within Eternal Fire temples never went out.

But in Victor's eyes, it was practically a cult, because it possessed no complete doctrine—only scattered rituals and slogans. Its most conspicuous trait was that once one joined, one could not leave. They did not permit believers to depart.

And because he had not taken another person's faith seriously, he had been slapped in the face by that devout priest. The man did not want money at all. Instead, he wanted the boy to join the Eternal Fire and undergo a series of trial tasks to prove his devotion.

For example, lighting five faith bonfires in the wilderness at night, or earning the trust of three respectable villagers.

Rubbing his nose, Victor realized he had made the mistake of acting without sufficient intelligence. He decisively left, returned to the tavern, and started over, using Orens to pry open every last detail of information about the outskirts surrounding the city.

That was also how he received a major piece of news whose nature was difficult to judge as either good or bad.

The Order of the White Rose had disbanded and been reorganized as the Order of the Flaming Rose.

They had a new leader—Jacques of Aldersberg, a devout believer in the Eternal Fire; and a new objective—to purge the monsters appearing in and around Vizima, while protecting human residents from the threat of nonhuman races.

And from that new objective alone, it was clear that the new Grand Master, Jacques, was a "human supremacist." He ordered his knights to deal with the Squirrel Party as they would monsters, and attributed every calamity and hardship suffered by humans to the depredations of nonhuman races.

This rhetoric found a ready market among the common people. They liked—and needed—someone to blame for all their anger and dissatisfaction.

In short, the good news was that Falwick of Morne had consequently lost much of the force he could call upon. The bad news was that Victor knew the name Order of the Flaming Rose very well. They would become the main force behind the witch hunts in the North.

The only thing that puzzled Victor was why they had appeared in Vizima to serve Foltest. In his memories, the Order of the Flaming Rose was supposed to be Radovid V's muscle...?

As for the so-called "Merchants" who controlled a route into the city, they were actually a criminal organization calling itself the Fire Lizard Gang. They ran many kinds of "businesses" and were guilty of every conceivable evil. Smuggling was among their trades, and recently they had begun selling weapons into the forest to the Squirrel Party.

With sufficient information in hand, Victor had no difficulty communicating with them, nor did he need the steel sword Old Cold Legs had warned him to bring. Once they agreed on a price, the fellow before him called Red Dog led him into the city.

He was a competent guide, familiar with the route and light on his feet. Leading someone through dark, stinking sewers was no easy task either, so the boy decided to give him a little extra tip upon reaching their destination.

Finally, after rounding yet another bend, Red Dog led the boy up a long vertical ladder, pushed open an unsealed drain cover, and saw the star-filled sky once more.

The last time Victor had paid special attention to the constellations had been while camping with Lambert. Now Pegasus still hung high overhead, but Winter's Maiden had vanished.

"Hehe, mercenary, welcome to Vizima!" Red Dog wore a black waterproof suit, with black cloth covering his face. His voice was somewhat shrill, as though it had not yet broken.

Glancing at the Fire Lizard tattoo on the man's exposed arm, Victor replied in a roughened voice, "Thanks." The boy had likewise wrapped his face so tightly that not a hint of it showed. He had no desire whatsoever to be associated with a criminal organization.

He tossed his cloak, saturated with the stench of piss and shit, into the sewer, then threw Red Dog five Orens as a tip before quickly vanishing into the narrow, winding alleys of the old district.

Later, this was how people told the tale:

"He came from the east, passing through Shepherd's Gate.

He rode a magnificent, powerful steed, the wisdom in his eyes brilliant as the morning star.

He was the first, and he was the last. He was the one who carried the fire."