The temple's dining room was similarly rundown. Sitting in a corner were two snow-covered cloaks, and their owners were devouring their food quietly and quickly at the room’s long wooden table. Carl wolfed down a stuffed scone into his mouth and let the fluffy, potato-stew-soaked bran puff up in his mouth. The scent lingered, unabating.

Daisy sat across from them, sighing and wincing a little. "You're professionals, witchers. Slayers of monsters and supernatural beings. You know countless monsters hide in these wilds. Kikimores, ghouls, spriggans, and things I don't even know the name of."

"On the contrary." Carl put his cleaned plate down. With the air of a veteran, he said, "Monsters are dwindling in numbers lately. Compared to them, bandits, robbers, mercenaries, and soldiers are the biggest threat to humanity. So you're saying that there's something unusual in the temple."

Daisy put her hands on the table, clasping them together, and she rested her chin on their collapsed steeple. She looked at the bald guy beside her. The fireplace's light was shining on her, and in her eyes, there was worry.

"Six months ago, I started hearing eerie sounds every night. It upset me. Do you know what it felt like? It felt like a worm was wiggling its way into my ear. Like a tongue was licking my nape." Rumachi clenched his fists. He was animated in his description, wriggling around as he recounted the experience. "Sometimes it would sound like a baby's gurgles, and sometimes it'd sound like a rat's squeak. Sometimes I even hear lutes! We searched the whole temple, and the sounds came from the cellar underground. That place is filled with miscellaneous items and pickled food. Dino and I went to check things out."

Acamuthorm listened closely and took a swig of goat's milk. It was sweet. He quickly took a glance outside the window and saw a girl with dry, golden hair staring into the dining room. She was gulping. The night's breeze was making her rub her hands as she shivered.

The sun was setting, but the young witcher's strengthened eyesight allowed him to see the girl's face. She looked almost like the cheeky, beautiful, regal girl beloved by Geralt and Yennefer. That's impossible. She should still be in Skellige. This must be a coincidence.

"There was something corrupted hiding behind the pork jerkies!" The guard's jiggling face was red, his voice trembling.

"Calm down. One step at a time. What did it look like? We want every detail."

Acamuthorm's voice calmed the guard, as if it was infused with magic.

"It was like a hag. Gaunt, hunched, rotten flesh hanging from her face. She was wearing a dress made out of gauze."

Acamuthorm rubbed his stubble and frowned. "You sure you saw it right?"

The guard was getting redder. He stammered, "I-I didn't dare stay underground for too long. Just saw its outline. Vaguely."

"Was there only one?"

"Honestly, we'd probably be dead if there were two," said the man with the mustache and goatee.

"That thing came after us, screaming. Dino's fire blocked it for just long enough, or it'd have pounced on me. Lebioda, I've never been more terrified in my life. I got goosebumps. Almost pissed myself. Good thing our legs were enough to carry us back. We got back up, slammed the board on the hole, and sat down on it."

Acamuthorm gave the bald guy a look. "You aren't as brave as you look."

"Brave doesn't mean stupid. I wouldn't try to bite on a rock and think it'd be crushed. Even veteran soldiers would run if they saw that thing."

That was how most people would react to horrors beyond their understanding.

"That thing didn't break through the trapdoor?" Acamuthorm asked.

Dino was surprised, but he also said with relief, "Thank Lebioda, that thing only screamed, still stuck in the cellar."

"Wait, so it's a sitting duck. How'd you deal with it, then?" Carl looked at the temple staff members.

"Smoked the entrance, chanted Lebioda's prayers, tried traditional exorcism, tossed swine bladders filled with virgin piss, virgin course blood, and blood of a black dog, but they were useless. It's weird. We saw nothing when we went into the cellar during the day, but the sounds would come at night. Not even cock-crows happen so consistently.

"Tried fire before?" Carl asked.

"Burning the temple is blasphemy to Lebioda," said Daisy.

"If you can't deal with it, why didn't you move?"

"We have a lot of kids. No place to house them. And Lebioda's believers cannot be scared by a mere ghost," said Daisy adamantly.

"Do you remember the time of night it shows itself?"

"After the moon rises. When next the moon shines, we'll hear it scream."

Carl mused. It's not scared of smoke, locked in a small cellar, disappears during the day, and only shows up when the moon appears? "Does it do anything worse than scream?"

The temple staff members shook their heads. With relief, Daisy said, "That evil entity only terrorizes the darkness of the cellar. It cannot escape its prison and hurt the children. That's why we stayed back and endured its screams, but I'm worried. One of these days, it might come out and hurt everyone."

Carl massaged his temples. That creature was humanoid. He considered a grave hag, a spriggan, a nekker, or a ghoul, but the habitat was wrong. Not to mention those monsters couldn’t be stopped by a wooden board and a paltry few locks. The moment such things had to feed, the people in this temple would be its food. Not those monsters.

Carl nodded. He asked, "Have you been having nightmares a lot over the last six months?"

The temple staff looked at one another. Daisy mused. "Lost sleep for the first few days. Then everything was alright. Must be Lebioda's protection."

Carl's eyes glinted. If this was a cheeky godling, then the temple dwellers would have nightmares chasing most dreams and many pranks pulled on them.

"Last question. Has anyone died in the cellar before?" Acamuthorm asked, slowly looking at the temple staff.

Daisy froze for a moment, then she went red with anger. "This is a hallowed temple. You must not joke like that, witchers."

"Are you sure no one died?"

"I swear."

A short silence fell upon the temple.

"You have an idea, don't you?" Rumachi asked.

"We have a rough guess, but there's something odd, so we need to investigate."

The witchers were reminded of an earthbound entity they’d seen in the Almanac of Creatures. It was humanoid, only came out when the moon appeared, and had an eerie voice. However, that thing could only be born of corpses and paths upon which the moon would shine, not a temple cellar.

"Daisy, this might be rude, but has Lebioda's spirit never helped you exorcise the creature?" To witchers, ghost hauntings could happen in a great many places, be it a city or village, but not temples. Never temples.

Even though Melitele hadn't shown her power to the world for a long time now, her temple in Ellander was still protected by her sanctity. Ghosts and evil entities would never do anything near something sacred. Even Kreve was a god on the good side, strictly speaking. His temple could ward off evil creatures and people, too.

Daisy mused over it and sighed deeply. "Perhaps I'm too young. I've only been working in this place for six months. Maybe the creature is Lebioda's test for me."

"So the children have only been here for six months?"

"Ah, you do not know this." Daisy looked outside the window, her face filled with love and sympathy. "The children are mostly orphans who came from Cintra and Sodden a few years ago. Some were sent here because their families couldn't afford them. Sinny was the priestess who took care of them. She eventually went around traveling, and I took over the job."

Acamuthorm praised, "It's not easy keeping so many mouths fed in the wilds of Poviss. This place is freezing."

"It’s all thanks to the donations and aid from the people. We get by," said the priestess thankfully.

Acamuthorm shook his head silently. During his days of wandering, he knew that the poorer the place, the fiercer, stingier, and stupider the people. The farmers could barely support themselves, let alone help kids that weren't theirs. But he didn't argue.

"You're dashing, witchers. You must be kind, too," Dino suddenly complimented the witchers.

"Can you help us, for the children's sake?" Daisy clasped her hands before her chest, her eyes flaring with a plea.

"Witcher's rules. Pay us, and we get rid of your problem. According to your description, that monster in the cellar seems to be hard to deal with," said Carl.

Daisy looked troubled.

"Have mercy, witchers. We don't have money." Rumachi stood up, towering like a bear. He clasped his fists, pleading, "All we have is food for the winter, and we've used up the best part to serve you."

Carl and Acamuthorm rubbed their noses awkwardly. Should they refuse? No, all we did was kill a drowner on this boring trip. It'd be embarrassing just to get back like this, but if we work for free, Serrit's going to yell at us. Why don't we try the Law of Surprise and take a child with us? No, we saw them the moment we came into the temple. There is no surprise at all.

As time passed in his contemplations, Acamuthorm brushed his finger across the griffin medallion before his chest. This is my trip. I call the shots. Time to prove myself and get some glory. He cleared his throat and got up, and then he circled the table. With justice in his eyes, he said, "You're lucky you ran into me. Griffins are bearers of the valor of knights. Just this once, we will slay this monster. You have paid for the job in the form of this meal."

"Y-you mean that? You aren't joking, are you?" Daisy heaved a sigh of relief, and she opened her mouth in surprise.

"Witchers never go back on their word."

Since Acamuthorm had made his promise, all Carl could do was hold his forehead and sigh.

"Thank you, truly. May Lebioda protect you." Delighted, the priestess bowed at the witchers. As if worried they might break their promise, she quickly said, "What do you need us to do? How can we help? Just say it."

"Take care of yourself and the kids. Let us focus on the monster." Carl looked outside the window. The sky had darkened, and the light of twilight shone on the snowy ground and the statue in the shadows.

A layer of darkness draped itself over the statue of Lebioda.

"Give us some time to prepare. Once the moon rises, we strike.”

***

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