Saibus's POV
My work resumes sooner than expected, and with increased difficulty. A difficulty ensured by a man who decides to approach my table and sit down at it. The man appears normal, of no consequence, with the look of a peasant fresh out of the countryside. He's wearing a dark brown hat, a leather jerkin, leather pants, and leather boots. He always carries a wooden spoon on him, as well as a belt with utilitarian objects, and finally a very strange dagger of rounded shape.
(Image: Man)
"Good evening, Saibus Di Vine. It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance," declares the man with a smile. I lift my eyes from my glass and look at the man. But as soon as I set my gaze on him, I freeze. Sitting at my table is the Devil of this world.
Gaunter de Meuré, or Gaunter O'Dimm – a.k.a. G.O.D. Being approached by Gaunter is shocking to me, though understandable upon reflection. I am part of the highest echelon of the League of Assassins: an organization that strives to maintain a more-than-precarious balance in this cold and gloomy world. An organization that acts in the shadows, known only to the most influential and powerful individuals—whether they be mages or royalty. Only witchers are the exception to this rule, a rule that allows us to be anywhere without being recognized. It's natural that someone with Gaunter's power knows about us. It's just as natural that the Assassins are people perfectly suited to fulfill the missions he desires, as long as both parties sign the contract.
Another factor is that I am the descendant of a sort of deity who came from another world during the Conjunction of the Spheres. Ah, Grandmother Hecate, you are both a blessing and perhaps the source of my future misfortunes. Adding to that my elven heritage as a child of the Di Vine family, and you have quite the mixture—enough to produce a person with whom the Devil and the God of this world would want to strike a deal.
Gaunter smiles at me during my brief moment of thought, which doesn't even last a full minute. His gaze and smile both tell me that he knows what I'm thinking. He knows that I know who he is. He knows exactly who I am. He knows what I could contribute to his plans to amuse himself while keeping his word. But the question isn't what I can offer him, but what he can offer me. If he's here today, it's because he knows he has something I desire. What might that be?
"Good evening, Saibus. It's a beautiful evening, don't you think?" he begins, still wearing his characteristic smile.
"A beautiful evening indeed. An evening I would have preferred to enjoy alone, but one cannot always have what one wants. What do you want, Gaunter?" I reply, directly asking the reason for his visit. The sooner he leaves, the sooner I'll feel better. Because even though I am one of the most powerful people on the Continent, this man is invincible. He's so powerful that I don't even know if the Eldest of the Invincibles—who has been living secluded in a cave in Beauclair ever since he arrived just after the Conjunction of the Spheres, patiently waiting for another portal to open, for another Conjunction of the Spheres to occur so he can return to his world—could defeat him.
"Make no mistake, young half-elf, we can always have what we want, provided we do what's necessary to obtain it. You, me, that peasant over there," he says, pointing at a drunkard guzzling ale at a table.
"It's only a question of choices and actions. Doing what's required or not. Quite simple. To answer your question, I'd like to offer you a contract," he declares, pulling a rolled-up contract from his satchel.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in becoming someone's servant. Especially when I have everything I need: love, status, wealth, prestige, power," I respond.
"Don't answer too quickly, Demon. You have only the illusion—or you want to convince yourself—that you have everything you desire, but in reality that's not the case. There are certain things you want more than anything in the world. I count four." Gaunter sets the contract on the table and raises his hand in plain view.
"I'm still not interested in glancing at your contract. If you would be so kind as to leave so I can enjoy my glass of champagne in the company of two of my dearest friends—solitude and silence—I would be extremely grateful."
"So young, polite, and quick to ignore his elders. You know what I can offer you, yet you refuse to listen?" he asks with a smug, arrogant grin.
"Exac—" I find myself cut off mid-retort. He raises the thumb of his closed hand in front of me.
"A child. You wish to have offspring with your sorceress wife. Unfortunately for you two, she was sterilized by her mentor. But I won't count that one, after all she's handling that problem perfectly well on her own," he says with an impish smile, as if he knows a way to restore Yennefer's fertility—implying that her problem is but a trifle unworthy of his time.
He then raises his index finger. "Now let's delve into the three other things you desire with all your being. Things intrinsically linked to one another. Things we could summarize as a single wish, but which I've decided to split into three parts. Three wishes, three revelations, for three favors. Don't you find that fair?"
…Unable to respond, I fix him with a dangerous glare, ready to leap at him at the slightest provocation.
"Don't look at me like that. I'm the only sane person alive right now at your disposal who can give you what you want. You're so ungrateful toward altruists like myself."
"Tir ná Lia." My eyes widen at that name. It's the name of the capital of the world of the elves—the world where the Aen Elle live. The city where Auberon Muircetach resides, but above all the place where Eredin Bréacc Glas, the King of the Wild Hunt, holds court. He's right: I dream of killing Eredin and his lieutenants, of destroying the one thing he cares about, however little that may be—his cavalry.
He lifts his middle finger. "The White Frost, or more precisely, the power to travel between Tir ná Lia and the Continent at will." His words—so potent—once more demonstrate his power: the power to grant the ability to use the White Frost, the Destroyer of Worlds, as a means of teleportation, just as the Wild Hunt's navigators do. This also tells me that I cannot have one piece of information without the other. I can't have one without the other. I need the coordinates for Tir ná Lia so as not to get lost in some random world, just as I need a means to get there. I don't have a unicorn that can travel between dimensions, and my portal spells are limited to this world.
He then raises his ring finger, declaring my final wish—a wish I know all too well. A cherished dream, a desire, a driving will: "The head of Eredin Bréacc Glas."
I close my eyes at that name. I plunge into silence and darkness, envisioning myself driving my blade into his heart. Seeing myself ripping him to shreds with my magic. Seeing myself make him suffer by boiling his blood.
"Four wishes reduced to three. Three wishes in exchange for three favors. An equitable contract between two people for whom a promise is sacred. A contract between a human and a half-elf. A win-win contract. A contract between an Assassin and Master Mirror. A deal between a Demon and a merchant. What do you say, Saibus Di Vine, Demon of the Order of Assassins?"
"A deal with the Devil…," I murmur.
Gaunter is proposing a deal to Saibus wherein he would help him discover the Wild Hunt, travel to their world and kill its members, in exchange for three favors. Saibus's answer remains unknown at the end of the chapter, as the author has not yet decided his response.