The two goat men didn't talk much on their way to Frey's. Winstead was located in a rather wintery region of the Sealed World, and Kelves found that having to be out in the cold made people either exceptionally talkative or nearly mute. He was huddled in his jacket for the most part, his gaze angled towards the ground so that he wouldn't step on anything (or anyone; some smaller Magicants made for tripping hazards). Eventually, the duo made it to the restaurant and were seated in a booth off to the side. Kelves was sure people would be whispering about who his companion was, which made him uneasy, but it wasn't like the gossip had any tangible effect on him. The waitress, a plant-like humanoid who used vines from her back with remarkable precision, mentioned that fried tentacles were the special today, generously donated by a marine Magicant from the western islands; while Kelves passed and ordered his usual burger, fries, and beer, he noticed that Geralt ordered the special.

"I'm trying to broaden my horizons," the red Caprimet said as the waitress left. "Gatesend is nice, but every region has its own unique flavor, literally and figuratively." Kelves made a small affirmative noise; having lived in Winstead's region ever since the collective banishing of Magicants to the Sealed World, he didn't know much about the so-called unique flavors.

Once he was sure the attention was off of them, Geralt leaned forward in an almost conspiratorial manner. "I think now would be as good a time as any for me to start my story, don't you think? Something to do while waiting for the food." Once again, Kelves made an affirmative noise. Waiting for food was always a trying process. With that, Geralt began his tale. "Very well then. My older sister, Alea, lives in Gatesend. She keeps to herself quite a bit. As time has gone on, she has become sort of a recluse. She only leaves the house for groceries, and even then, she tries hard to blend in. I'm sure you know that's difficult for creatures such as we."

Kelves shrugged. "I blend in fine," he said, which wasn't entirely true, as he rarely went out enough to have to blend in in the first place. "At least she goes grocery shopping. Winstead has a delivery service."

Geralt arched an eyebrow. "I don't think that helps your case very much," he said before returning to the topic at hand. "Anyway, I'm worried about her. It's not healthy to be so isolated. I want her to have a friend."

"Gatesend is the capital. There have to be other Caprimets there," Kelves said.

"There are," Geralt said. "Believe me, I've tried to get Alea to socialize with them even a little bit, but either she loses interest or, in the case of the Siers, they're too busy with official matters to pay her much attention. Setalei Sier is a sweet girl, but she's too young for Alea to really have much in common with her."

Kelves nodded. He had heard of the Siers too; they were the priests and historians, expert recordkeepers, often in the service of the royal family. "So you came all the way here to play matchmaker and make me see her?"

"I suppose you could put it that way," Geralt said. "One of my coworkers took a trip here and mentioned seeing you in passing, and that others had told him you were all alone here. So I thought that perhaps I could join two lonely souls together."

"You do realize that I'm the only Weaver left, right? Your sister has you, at least." Kelves couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice. "She can't be that lonely."

Here Geralt's expression grew solemn. "You aren't the only one who experienced losses in the Sealing War," he said. "Yes, you've witnessed incredibly devastating events. But my sister... she lost a daughter."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Oh." Now Kelves felt like a complete jerk. It was one thing to lose a mother, a father, cousins and friends. Losing a child was a tragedy in its own class. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Geralt exhaled heavily. "Alea fell in love with a human. They were very passionately in love with each other, and about two years before the war, she gave birth to his child, a half-Magicant. He betrayed her and fought in the human king's army." He paused, using his thumbnail to pick a speck of dirt out from under his pointer finger nail. "It seems that being half-Magicant was enough to make her child be sent here with her. I remember seeing Noel, that was the girl's name, not long after we had arrived in the Sealed World. But one day, she was nowhere to be found. Alea said that she had died and refused to tell me more."

"I'm sorry," Kelves said again.

"My sister was once a cheerful, gregarious person. Now, she's bitter and reclusive. It's painful to watch. So..." Geralt rested his arms on the table, clasping his hands. "Do you understand why I'm asking you to at least give her a chance?"

Kelves nodded. "I guess. But I don't think you should expect much. I've been told I'm a drag to be around."

"Well, that's not very nice of whoever said that," Geralt said. "You're grieving. You have a lot to grieve over. But I think that maybe you and Alea could find some common ground in your losses and support each other. It would be nice to see her take comfort in another person's presence again."

"Maybe," Kelves said.

"I don't hear a no from you," Geralt said. "Does that mean you're willing to come with me?"

"I guess. It's not like I have anything better to do." Kelves looked off to the side to see if the waitress was coming around with the food. She wasn't. "I don't have to leave immediately, do I?"

"How does tomorrow morning sound?" Geralt asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon." Kelves did not like the idea of getting up too early.

"Fair enough. How about we meet at the train station at 1:30 then?"

"2:30?"

"The train has a schedule, you know," Geralt said. "I believe the train leaves at 1:45."

"Fine," Kelves said through a sigh.

At that time, the waitress finally came around with their orders. At first, the conversation halted as the men dug into their meals. After a while, Geralt noticed that Kelves's attention was on his plate. "Do you want some of this?" he asked. "It's got an excellent consistency."

Kelves wondered if it was really that obvious that he was regretting not trying the special, especially when it smelled so good. "Um... sure."

Geralt cut off the end of a tentacle that he hadn't gotten to yet and lifted it onto Kelves's plate with his fork and knife. "Here. I'm curious what you think of it."

"Thanks." Kelves cautiously took a bite, and it felt like his taste buds lit up. The seasoning was flavorful and savory without being overpowering, and the consistency was as good as advertised: somewhere between meat and fish, in a way. It had substance without being too tough or squishy. "Huh. Maybe I'll get some of these to go."

"When do you intend to eat them, though?" Geralt asked. "I suppose they'd make the trip if you packed them carefully. We have microwaves."

"Oh, right." It wasn't as if Kelves had completely forgotten what he had agreed to, but it might have slipped his mind just a little. "I guess it'd solve the problem of lunch."

From there, the conversation turned to small talk as the duo finished their meals. When they left the restaurant, Geralt went back to his hotel room while Kelves went home to flop into bed, exhausted from the extended social interaction. It was tempting to wake up and dig into the fried tentacles he had gotten to go, but he had a feeling he was going to need to conserve his resources for tomorrow's adventure. He would need a food break eventually, given that he was leaving his home for the first time in a while. Travel would be stressful.

Still, he was curious about the woman he was going to meet, and that was enough to keep him committed.