Countless black butterflies fluttered behind the man, forming a pair of gigantic wings. He flapped them and leapt into the air. The man rose higher than the window and slowly stepped down a flight of invisible stairs. Eventually, he landed on the bedroom’s floor, revealing himself fully to the witcher.
He was neither tall nor strongly built. The man was ordinary, save for the fact that his eyes were all black. Other than that, he looked just like a regular man in regular clothes. He was wearing an old, yellow coat paired with tight, blue pants. His shoulder bags’ straps made a cross on his chest, hanging from both sides of his waist. They looked filled to the brim with things Roy didn’t know. His black deerskin boots looked ancient. The tips were disfigured, and the edges were caked in dirt.
He looked just like a traveling merchant from the outside. Dirty and unkempt. He would blend right into the crowd. Nobody would pay any attention to him. However, when the man looked at Roy, he could feel needles pricking his skin. At the same time, Roy felt like he was naked to the man. As if he could see through him.
The witcher bit the tip of his tongue, and the taste of blood made him snap out of it. He curled up and tensed up like a cat. He held the ground with his toes, his temples throbbing.
***
The man greeted, “It’s a lovely afternoon. Perfect for a reunion with old friends.” Gaunter O’Dimm crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. There was a special allure to his voice. It was clear, and he enunciated things slowly, as if he were reciting a passionate poem. However, the young witcher caught the glint of cunning in his eyes that told of his philistine nature. He was more like a veteran businessman ready to sell his merchandise.
“Who are you? Do I know you?” Roy pretended he had no idea who this was, but he felt even more alarmed, and he took a step back.
At the same time, Roy was genuinely curious. He couldn’t even get any useful information on the man. Gaunter O’Dimm was shrouded in mystery.
‘Gaunter O’Dimm
Age: ? (Requires higher Perception)
Gender: ?
Status: Master of Mirrors, Man of Glass (A traveling merchant who sells mirrors)
? (Requires more information to unlock Gaunter O’Dimm’s secret identity)
Stats: ?
Skills: ?’
***
“You can call me O’Dimm. Gaunter O’Dimm. Or the Master of Mirrors. Relax. I mean you no harm. I just wish to have a friendly conversation.” He shrugged, putting on a friendly smile. “And it’s odd you think you’ve never seen me before. Let me jog your memory. We met in Aldersberg, the White Orchard’s inn, and the Henhouse not too long ago. And I’ve given you a lot of ‘favors’ on your journey.”
Gaunter O’Dimm nodded. He liked Roy for being so relaxed. “Curiosity is the first step to improvement, but I can’t answer that yet, unless it’s part of a trade. I can draft a contract if you’d like. It’s fine if you don’t. I have nothing to do with the demons and gods in folklore. Just remember that I’m a merchant,” he said seriously. “Business is my everything. It’s more important than my own life. Not like my almost eternal life means anything to me anyway. Ah, but you got one thing right. I’m no regular merchant,” he said ‘humbly.’ “I have some special abilities, though I won’t abuse them. It’s usually used to make sure the trade goes smoothly. For example, the scene you see before you. I provide a wider selection of items compared to most merchants. Tangible, intangible, common, special, and even indescribable items. I create the object of my customer’s deepest desire, granting them the wish only they want. Take this little one for example.” Gaunter sniffed the air and looked at the sleeping Aryan again. Unlike when he was facing the witcher, Gaunter obviously looked delighted. He was not filled with greed, but delight at his imminent reward. “Ah, he’s a pure soul, but his flagrant and wanton mother destroyed him. As he wished, I granted him the best of dreams to escape this cruel, cruel reality, until… he’s released from his mortal coil.”
“I see.” So this guy is behind the curse. “Why’d you take his valuables? To mislead the investigators?”
Gaunter laughed happily. “Hey, watching a bunch of ‘detectives,’ sorcerers, witch doctors, and bounty hunters going on a wild goose chase is fun. But they’re a bunch of fools. None of them found the clue I left behind. What a letdown. You, though… You saw through it.”
Roy asked, “What about the reward? What did Aryan promise you in return?”
“His soul. That’s the only currency I accept. According to the contract, I’ll take Aryan’s soul on an interesting adventure after he dies.” Gaunter flicked his wrist and pulled out a golden parchment from the air. It was filled with spindly, indecipherable words.
Roy huddled closer to take a good look, but Gaunter tucked the parchment away. Roy questioned, “Are you sure you didn’t pull any tricks in the contract? He’s just a boy, after all.”
“Nobody can go against the contract. Not even me.” Gaunter raised his head and said calmly, “Everything I do follows the rule. I grant the boy his wish, and I get my reward. It’s fair and square. I’ll wait for him just outside his bedroom, right up until he draws his last breath. He has enough time to ‘enjoy’ his dream.”
“No, you don’t get it, Gaunter,” Roy said. “A simple hypnosis isn’t worth a soul.”
“Value is different for everyone,” Gaunter retorted. “Aryan is a young boy filled with a sense of justice and virtue. But his world shattered when he found out his own mother was having an affair. Still, he refuses to hurt his mother. Instead, he tried to save himself. He found himself a quiet spot to heal, and he picked a nice dream. He could have asked for more, but he didn’t. That was all he asked.”
Gaunter approached the witcher and goaded, “As for you, Roy, if you think one wish isn’t worth your soul, then I can grant you two, or even three wishes. I can write them out in the contract. Just imagine. I can give you a weapon that slices through anything, wine as much as you want, a horse as fast as the wind, infinite wealth, immortality, and even…” Gaunter paused. “The power to revive your school.”
“Sorry, Gaunter, but I’m not interested in trading my soul.” Roy looked into his eyes and shook his head. “I still think I have to work for the things I want on my own. Nothing will belong to me otherwise.”
“Get real, bud,” Gaunter growled. “You’ve interrupted my business the moment you burned the Book of Bones. You can’t stay out of this anymore. It’s fine if you don’t want to get into a contract now. I’ll keep watching you. Someday, you’ll need my help, but things will be different then. You can’t make any demands you want. Oh, in case that doesn’t happen, this might.” Gaunter shifted his gaze to Letho and rubbed his stubble. He appraised Letho, as if he were an object. “Not everyone is as stubborn as you are. The people around you… Your comrades, friends, and even your family… They might be more than willing to trade with me.”
“Is that a threat?” Roy’s heart skipped a beat, and his blood froze. This guy is a demon! It’s like he knows what humans think. He pointed out the scenario Roy never wanted to see happen. Letho, Auckes, Serrit, Moore, and Susie might fall for its trap and become its prisoners. The young witcher gritted his teeth. Hesitation filled his eyes for a moment, then it was replaced by resolve. I won’t let anyone or anything hurt them. Not even this bastard. Not even if I die!
“Oh, no. It’s not a threat. I’d call it a once-in-a-lifetime chance. I’m generously helping the population by granting them their deepest desires.” Gaunter smiled and looked at Letho. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on him. Maybe lend a hand or two. What do you think?”
Roy kept quiet for a long time, and his heart started to race. He could feel it almost bursting through his chest. Beads of sweat covered his forehead, and his breathing was heavy, as if he were a blower. Very well. I’ll take the challenge, even if it costs me my life. “Hey, Master of Mirrors.” The young witcher gave Gaunter a toothy grin, but his eyes were glintling coldly. “Want a bet instead?”
***
***
