Kelves sighed and scratched his fuzzy belly as he stared into the TV screen, where the Sealed World's premium nighttime talk show was displayed. The host, an elegant but comically over-the-top ghost, was interviewing a rising music star about his upcoming album. While he enjoyed the host's diatribes and dramatic posturing, he had never heard of "DJ Roc," a giant bird that was awfully talented with his talons and a turntable.

When it came down to it, he regarded it all with apathy. As a Caprimet, a humanoid goat-like monster with a long tail, he was supposed to be one of the strongest types of Magicants. Instead, he was the last of the Weaver clan. His losses had left him in a nearly permanent stupor of depression, fatigue, and indulgence, and so the other Magicants did not see a mighty Caprimet. Instead, they saw a white and grey goat guy who ate, drank, and slept way too much. Of course, that would be if they even saw him; Kelves didn't like to leave the comforts of his home too much. Thank goodness for Winstead's delivery options.

Sometimes it felt like all he did was kill time until he was ready to eat or sleep again. He would watch TV and crunch his potato chips until he felt ready to sleep, and then another day of trying to keep himself afloat would arrive. Kelves didn't like to think much about what he did or what he planned to do, because if he did, he would realize that he was barely living, and he'd feel the pain all over again.

Kelves's main methods of distracting himself mostly boiled down to bingeing. He could stuff himself silly, sleep for nearly an entire day, or watch TV till everything went numb. He was also a lush when he could get away with it; there was a chain of beer bottles lining the floor by his couch, and on rare occasions when he could get something better, he'd put all his efforts into getting absolutely hammered drunk.

It seemed that every aspect of his lethargy showed on his body; he sported a generous belly and thick arms and legs, a side effect of his eating habits and sedentary lifestyle. He walked slowly, there was a lazy drawl to his speech, and he gave off an overall air of fatigue. At least one person had said that just being around him made them want to go back to bed. Comments like that made him not want to be around others that much.

Kelves's hand hit the bottom of the chip bag. The number of potato chips in a bag is always the amount you want minus one, he mused as he let it drop to the floor. He'd clean it all up someday. A period of time passed where nothing happened, and soon he drifted off.

For all the sleeping Kelves liked to do, he could wake up very easily. His doorbell rang, and he jolted awake, his tail flicking. He had no idea what time it was and he couldn't remember if he had ordered pizza or not before falling asleep. Winstead had some great pizza places, ones worth answering the door for. Groaning, he pulled his shirt back on, stretched, and went to answer the door. What he saw when he opened the door made his breath catch in his chest: another Caprimet, one with reddish-brown fur and cream-colored horns. The guy had a bit of heft to him; not quite as much as Kelves did, but a bit nonetheless. Kelves's green eyes met the stranger's blue ones as his brows knitted. "You're, uh... not the pizza guy, I take it?" he asked.

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The stranger chortled, a sound almost unfamiliar to Kelves at this point. "I'm afraid not. But I sure am glad to see that the rumors were true."

"Which ones?" Kelves knew there had to be rumors of all kinds about him. Maybe the pizza guys got together and gossiped and tried to guess what his deal was.

"That the last Weaver is living alone in Winstead as a recluse," the other Caprimet said. "May I come in? There's something I'd like to talk to you about."

"Uh." Kelves looked over his shoulder at the messy living room, then back at the man in the doorway. "Do you want to? It's kind of messy in here."

"I could come in, or we could find somewhere else to chat," the stranger said.

Kelves weighed the pros and cons. If he let the man into his home, he wouldn't have to go anywhere, but he was in no state to entertain a guest and neither was his house. If he went out, that required energy and effort, but perhaps they could have their discussion at Frey's, where he could make the experience more bearable with burgers and beer. Also, nothing suspicious could go down at Frey's. The Winter Walkers, a group of elite guards, liked to visit the bar after their shifts. In essence, at least three quarters of the bar's patrons could act as bouncers at any given time because of that. If this guy wanted to pull something, he'd be caught for sure. With that in mind, Kelves made his decision. "Let's go somewhere else. There's a bar, Frey's, down the street from here. But first... what is it that you want to talk to me of all people about?"

"My apologies. I should have explained myself sooner. And introduced myself, for that matter. I'm Geralt Wishell. Pleased to meet you." Geralt extended his hand for a handshake, and Kelves stared at him before awkwardly returning the gesture.

"My name is Kelves. You still haven't answered my question yet," Kelves said. He remembered hearing of the Wishell clan before the days of the Sealed World, before Magicants were banished from their home world; the Wishells were diplomats and bankers. They were on rather good terms with humans. Too bad that all that diplomacy couldn't avert a curbstomp of a war, the mass deaths of Magicants, and the loss of everything the Magicants considered theirs.

"There's someone I'd like you to meet," Geralt said. "I think you two could get along well."

Kelves's eyes went wide. A mixture of indignation and curiosity unfolded inside him. On one hand, where did this guy get the idea that he wanted to meet people? On the other hand, Kelves wanted to know who was on the other side of this matchmaking sort of deal. As hard as he tried to hide and ignore the urges, there were times when he ached for companionship devoid of pity. "I... who?"

"My sister. She has a unique set of circumstances, just like you do. How about I tell you more once we're at our meeting place?" Geralt stepped back slightly to give Kelves some space.

How unique could she be? She has family, Kelves thought, but once again the curiosity won out. "Give me a few minutes."

With that, he shut the door, threw on some sweats, and got ready for the trip to Frey's.