Music is Outskirts of Novigrad from The Witcher 3 OST (because you can never go wrong with Witcher OSTs). Play it!

******

The next morning, I wake up to a refreshed soul and surprisingly cheery demeanour. I encounter Everest at the dining table, just as he's about to head to the Raven Room for more research. At my arrival, he beckons a servant to pour him another cup of tea, deciding to accompany me as I tuck into my breakfast.

"You seem...different today," he remarks as I spear a sausage. "Yesterday, you looked like you were ready to collapse anytime."

"A good night's rest does wonders, I suppose," I reply, stuffing the sausage into my mouth.

"Glad to see that." He offers a wary smile. "So, off to the Cave of Three Souls again?"

"Aye." I take a long swig of tea, scalding my tongue in the process. "There might be something useful in there."

"By the way, you didn't share your experience inside the cave with us last evening, if I recall correctly."

For a split second, my nerves freeze. I cover up the minor blunder with a laugh. "Didn't I?"

To my dismay, Everest shakes his head. Pst. Otheius preserve my soul. It seems that my perspective of the man hasn't been proven wrong—he really is too sharp to let anything escape under his nose. "You didn't," he says, quiet but confident.

I manage another chuckle. It sounds too high-pitched, betraying my nervousness. Focus, Constantine! "Well, what can I really say? It is a cave, after all. I admit though, the wards Sir Kendrick had claimed to be there had no effect on me. My Lorelay blood, I presume."

"So you went in." I bow my head over my meal, pretending to be fascinated by a mountain of scrambled eggs. I feel Everest's scrutinising eyes drilling into me. "Anything happened in there, Rutherland?"

Think, Constantine. Think! Curse me and my dysfunctional brain. I have to think of something plausible, but what? I can't just tell him that for one, there's a real witch inside there, who happens to be the Champion of Pst. Zorah; two, my alternate self or spiritual guide or whatever Abner is had been forcefully taken away; three, I can now access past lives.

All right, perhaps I could divulge point number three. But the others? Point number one: I might be beheaded alongside Maya for hiding her presence. Point number two: I'd sound plain mad.

Then again, I am their Champion. Maybe they'd take anything I say at face value.

Still, better not risk it.

I eventually decide to take the hard way out. "There really wasn't anything noteworthy in there, Everest," I say, weaving compulsion into my tone. "Just your usual cave. Rocks and rocks and darkness."

His brows draw together, as though he's puzzling over a problem I just gave him. "There should be something inside there," he insists, albeit less forcefully than before. "I saw you when you return. It was like you had your soul drained."

"You must be mistaken, Everest," I reply. "I was in perfectly high spirits."

The muddled look on his face clears; I nearly heave a sigh of relief. Until his next words, that is.

"No. I remember the state you were in very clearly."

He sounds so assured, so firm, and with a belated sense of dismay I realise that from this point, nothing I say is going to make him budge from his standpoint.

He's...broken the compulsion? I fight not to let the shock spill from my nerves and into the outside world. But how? How was he able to resist it? No, not just resist, but completely dispel it. Is he a sorcerer himself? Even so, he probably wouldn't have any knowledge of his power, and thus can't put them to full use...

"I—" I cut myself off, aware of just how stupid I look right now. Everest narrows his eyes at me. What did I ever do in the eyes of the Pietists to have this man of all men observing me so closely?

The doors to the dining room slam open. Everest and I jump in our seats, craning our heads to glare at the trespasser. When I see the crooked grin though, I have an urge to melt in my chair, so grateful that I could just rush over and kiss Gilbert's boots.

"Thought I heard you somewhere in here, Constantine," Gilbert greets cheerily, completely ignoring the pointed glare Everest shoots at him. "Let's go. I've been waiting for you for nearly a full bell already!"

I nod at him, sweeping all my excitement under a mental carpet. "All right." I finish off the last dregs of my tea before standing up. "Will catch up with you later, Everest."

"Until then," he replies amicably. But there is a dangerous flicker in his eyes. I maintain my smile.

Without another word, I walk over to Gilbert's side and out of the dining hall. When we're out of the Lorelay manor, I loosen the breath I didn't know I had been holding. "Thank you," I tell Gilbert.

He looks at me, lips curled into a smirk. "You were lucky I was there by happenstance. I heard the conversation. You'd have to be careful around Everest. He's got a reputation for being nosy among his peers."

"I wish I didn't have to," I say, slightly dejected. I stuff my hands into the pockets of my overcoat. "He's a good man, really." And someone who wouldn't shy away from heated debates. Someone capable of stirring the intellectual side of anyone.

"I don't doubt that. However, he's head interrogator for a reason," says Gilbert.

I allow that piece of information to sink into my head for a moment. Everest is head interrogator? How could I not know? He should be working under Captain Eldric—under me. He's part of the Guard, after all, not the King's Army.

How could I not know?

Granted, I haven't exactly been enthusiastic in learning the hierarchy system within the Guards' ranks. And Captain Eldric had never pressed the matter upon me anyway. I think of the Captain—about how he's so used to operating alone, all this while. Even after he's enlisted me as his apprentice. I shouldn't be so surprised that he's kept most of the work away from me. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he never introduced the main Guards working under him to each other.

Still, I'm supposed to be the future Captain of the Guard. Even if Captain Eldric has a habit of keeping most of the knowledge he has to himself, he knows that he has to share all of them with me eventually. So why doesn't he tell me anything?

I bite down a surge of resentment for the Captain.

Gilbert must have sensed my discontentment, as he pats my shoulder in a reassuring fashion. "He's newly promoted," Gilbert says. "Sir Kendrick told me before we headed out for the journey. Just gave me a rundown of the people we're bringing along."

"I never even knew that we had a head interrogator," I answer, caustic. "I mean, we are in charge of prisoners, so I know that the Guards are in charge of investigations. But still, I never assumed that there was a special specific unit for those cases. Captain Eldric's always rotated his men on different duties, so I thought—"

Gilbert interrupts me with a vehement shake of the head. "Sir Kendrick also told me that Captain Eldric has a tendency to take on most of the burdens by himself," he says softly, as though he were treading over thin ice. "Which means he isn't exactly inclined to share any information he has, even amongst his men—"

"I know that!" I yell. Gilbert jumps, startled by my abrupt outburst. I run my fingers through my hair—silently reminding myself that I'd have to cut it soon—in attempt to cool down. Why am I acting this way? Could this be another effect of losing Abner, having my emotions spiral out of control? Emotional eruptions. Perfect. I'll have to find a way to deal with this.

I take in a deep, shaky breath. "I'm sorry. It's just—I know that. Still, I'm his apprentice. I should know." I pause; another breath in. "I should know," I repeat. "I'm his apprentice. I should have noticed something."

Gilbert squeezes my shoulder. "You may be his apprentice, but that doesn't mean you have to know everything. Perhaps Captain Eldric doesn't think you're ready yet."

"You are Sir Kendrick's apprentice, and he seems to tell you plenty of things," I counter.

"I thought we've long established the fact that Sir Kendrick and Sir Eldric are two very different individuals," says Gilbert. "They operate differently. You can't expect your apprenticeship and mine to follow the same routes."

I chew on the bottom of my lip, considering his words. It doesn't exactly banish the sting of betrayal, but it does numb it. "True," I say, then gently brush the topic away: "By the way, if we're heading for the Cave of Three Souls, why are you directing us towards a bakery?"

"Because for your sake, I had to forgo having breakfast," Gilbert replies, extricating his hand to punch me playfully in the arm. I rub the spot, half-rueful. "Pietists forgive me, but I simply cannot start off my day with an empty stomach."

"It wasn't my fault," I mutter, stomach twisting with guilt. "I couldn't very well predict what Everest was going to say or do!"

Gilbert laughs, and I'm reminded of the cheerful tinkling of silver bells. "I know it isn't. Still, I have to eat."

"I'll buy you something, then." I stride into the open bakery, its owner proceeding to serve me with utmost joviality. Yet there's a hint of curiosity and fear in his eyes. It's the same bakery Everest and I had dropped by last evening, I realise.

It's not just the shopkeeper; the customers are giving me peculiar looks as well. I heave an internal sigh; practically the whole town knows of the ritual, it seems. I wonder how long this parade will last until the initial excitement and buzz wears off. I ignore them, hurriedly pointing to a random shelf of bread. The shopkeeper helps me to wrap up a piece. "Two bronzes," he says in a voice as weedy as his appearance.

I drop the payment onto the counter. "Thank you. Pst. Joran bless you!" I throw over my shoulder, hurrying out of the bakery.

"That was fast," Gilbert remarks as I hand him the loaf. He unwraps the papers, revealing a twisty, bizarre-looking pastry. "What is this?"

"I've no idea," I admit. "I just thought that it looked...interesting."

"Well, here goes nothing." He takes a huge chomp out of the pastry. I watch him as he chews, expression surprised and confused and satisfied all at once. He swallows once, takes another bite, and starts walking away from the town square.

"How is it?" I ask.

"Good," he chokes out, the word muffled. He gulps. "Good. Has a lot of seeds in it though, for some reason."

I suddenly recall Mother telling me about the customs of her people, and I burst out in laughter.

Gilbert quirks a brow, still happily chomping on the bread. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" I say, still laughing.

He raises both brows.

I fight to suppress my laughing fit. "It's really nothing! It's just that"—I cough to cover up another bark—"that's raven food."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Raven food."

"The ravens sure eat fancily here." He takes the pastry before him, inspecting it as though it were a particularly fascinating specimen of fungi.

"That's besides the point. Cornelli, the Lorelays call it. It's made specially for them to offer prayers to Pst. Zorah."

"Whose alternate form is a raven." Gilbert continues to inspect his meal. "So I've been eating food meant for ravens all this while."

"Not just that. The Lorelays would cast all their wishes and sins into the bread, which are each stored in the sunflower seeds. Then they would leave it out on the windowsill at night, and while they're asleep, the ravens would visit and eat their wishes and sins, so to speak, carrying it to Pst. Zorah."

"An offering," Gilbert squawks, dismayed that he's just taken sacred food, some of it already finding their way into his digestive system. If he were to do this back in Castle Larstand, he would immediately be called to confess his sins in front of the bishop, before having his hands bound and forced to walk around the entire city, hereby declaring his act of 'thievery'.

Under normal circumstances, I would be dismayed as well—frightened, even. However, Mother had always complained about how strict the religious leaders were in Rutherland compared to her hometown, so I deduce that they're fairly lax about certain things. Accidentally eating food meant for offerings, for instance. "I'm sure it's all right though. The Lorelays would forgive us this once for being ignorant foreigners." I pluck the bread out of Gilbert's unresisting fingers, tearing them into little pieces and scattering them behind us as we continue to walk. "There."

"Now I have no breakfast and a serious apology to offer to Pst. Zorah," Gilbert grunts. "You know what? This is all your fault, Rutherland."

From the grin, I take that he's not really mad at me. "I'm sorry! I'll make it up to you, somehow."

"You'd better," he snorts. It's his turn to bury his hands in the pockets of his overcoat. "Come on, we've delayed enough time as it is. Seer Alvina should be there already; I caught her just leaving the Lorelay mansion this morning."

"Ah." I wonder about the rest of the Seers. I still haven't seen a slight shadow of them in the manor yet.

I let Gilbert take the lead, trudging silently beside him up all the way. It's odd. The atmosphere doesn't seem as cold as the day before—as chilling. Of course, Gilbert. He did tell me that if he gives in to negative emotions, his powers would react along with them—the icy powers. With all the anger and misery accumulating in him for a long time, it's only natural that even if he's trying to keep up a positive façade, some of his real feelings would leak through.

I'm glad that the talk last night managed to brighten his mood though. The idea of having to bear with terrible weather throughout our stay here is daunting. I flex my fingers, remembering our time in the clusters—specifically, how we held each other's hands. And our warmth seeping into each other.

Stop right there, Constantine.

"We're here," Gilbert announces, successfully cutting off my train of thought.

I blink, the mouth of the Cave of Three Souls yawning before me. The shadows churn, awakening from their slumber in my presence. The air practically hums with energy, sinking into my bones and calling out to me from the pit of my belly.

Abner. He's waiting.

I square my shoulders, steeling my nerves. There's a storm inside there, and I have to be prepared to walk straight into the heart of the storm, and face everything thrown into me. I must be prepared.

But a small voice in my head tells me that I'm not.

******

A/N:So we get to learn a little bit more about the Lorelays, and most importantly of Everest's true occupation. This will definitely change the dynamics between him and Constantine quite a bit! Anyway, this chapter was so huge that I split it into two parts. The good news is that you get another update this week!

Also, I know that I've been really inactive on Wattpad lately, and I apologise for that, especially after I've practically gone AWOL for most of last year. Never quite imagined uni assignments to be killing me, plus finals are around the corner. Hope you guys understand! >.<