Our village was north of the city of Lyria. Didn't have a name but we did business with the traders going north to Aederin and Kedwin. I remember running to the post in the village center and watching the merchants unload their goods and make trades with us. A book dealer came in my sixth spring. He didn't look well. When he left, one by one the villagers became ill. I watched as my older sister and younger brother succumbed to the strange fever along with my friends and neighbors until few were left. Toward the end of summer my parents fell ill as well. At six I did all I could, not thinking that my parents were dying.

All travel through our village had stopped. Word had gotten out about the strange disease that was decimating a tiny farm village to the north. Then one afternoon a stranger arrived. I remember being so excited that I ran back home to tell Papa about him and his two swords and strange yellow eyes. My father told me to fetch the man home. He wished to speak with him. So, I went to the tavern. He was the only person in the place. I just stood and stared at him. I was fascinated yet afraid at the same time.

"What are you staring at, boy?" I couldn't believe he spoke to me. Stupidly, I looked behind me expecting someone else to be there. He laughed at me. "You got a name, boy?"

"Benedict, Sir."

"I'm Zane. And you can drop the Sir. You live in this place all alone?"

"No, sir…uh, Zane. With my Mama and Papa. They're sick."

"You're not."

"No, s…no."

"Why did you come in here?"

"My Papa wants to see you. Says it's important." Zane looked at me for a few moments then finished his drink before getting up.

"Let's go then." We left the tavern and walked through the thick smoke. We burned all our dead to prevent the disease from spreading and there was a constant haze of black that hung overhead. Zane flinched when we entered my house, the stink of waste, sweat and sickness was heavy. I led him to my Papa who looked up from his sickbed. He looked weak but when he spoke his voice was still strong. It is what gave me hope my father would get well.

"A Witcher." Zane said nothing. "I am dying. I have already lost two children to the fever and I cannot go to the beyond without making sure my remaining child is safe."

"Safe is relative. Be careful what you ask."

"Take my son, Benedict. Take him from here."

"He'll become one of us. If he makes it." When my father responded, I could hear the worry in his voice.

"That I know. But what else is there?" Zane said nothing but gave my father a contemplative look before answering him.

"Say your good-byes. I'll wait outside." I gathered what few possessions I had including a stuffed bear my sister had made for me and stood by my father's side. His eyes were red and filled with tears. I remember his firm grip on my arm as he held me one last time. I'll never forget what he said to me all those years ago.

"Benedict…You are leaving here and will become a Witcher. Don't mind what people say about them and don't look back. Just always remember that they can change what you are but never who you are. Only you can do that." It was advice I took to heart. Through all the training, the changes. I gave them what they wanted but I knew who I was. When I was released to The Path I was able to be myself. In the winter at the stronghold, I kept to myself. It went on this way for twenty, thirty years. Then I overheard some of my brothers talking about their contracts. Assassinations and murder. I had seen many madmen in my short time there. There was no moral code. I wanted out, so I saved every piece of gold I laid my hands on.

The summer I finally decided to cut ties I found a wizard in the forests of Lyria. A short tower in the woods surrounded by all manner of beasts but they didn't attack. I remember thinking the location for such a tower odd when the door opened and he invited me in. He offered me food and drink and a place to rest. Needless to say, I was wary.

"Who are you? What is your name?" I asked him.

"Who I am is not important. Or maybe I just can't remember…"

"Which is it?"

"Which is what?" He was absolutely daft. I set the cup down and stood.

"Okay, old man, I'm leaving." As I reached for the door his voice turned dark and sober.

"I know what you seek, Benedict, and I can help you." I turned back to him.

"How do you know my name?"

"What I know would frighten even the strongest of men. I have seen my own end and my time is short. You are making your own destiny. I can help." He handed me a small blue bottle. It had a stopper with a glass rod attached. "Take these."

"What is the book?"

"So you can make more. As a Witcher, you are adept at potion making, yes? Put the drops in your eyes. One drop each." I did as he bid and when I blinked the liquid from my eyes he handed me a mirror. What I saw, I never thought I'd see again. The white and blue of a normal eye.

"How is this possible?"

"It is not permanent. It will only last a day. With this, you can avoid the adverse attention. Blend in. Now, come. Sit. Eat." I stayed and we sat up all night talking. He asked me copious questions about the herbs I had consumed as a child prepping for transformation, the mutagens, everything. I asked him why he wanted to know, and he said it was for one that would come after me. To help him along the way.

When I left, he told me to go south until no Witchers could be found. I took that to mean Nilfgaard. Couldn't argue with that. I moved around for a while living outside of the cities. Couldn't let anyone notice that I wasn't aging. About twenty-five years ago I made it to Nilfgaard City. Set up shop making leather goods and teaching fencing to the nobility. Seventeen years ago, I met Sophia. She was the widow of a soldier. She had no family and nothing to keep herself and her sons with. I remember seeing her outside her home as soldiers emptied it, a babe in her arms and a toddler clutching her legs. I asked what was to become of her and they just shrugged. Said they didn't care.

But I did. I gave her my bed and slept in my shop. We got to know one another, and I came to care for her and the boys. I married her within the year. I raised her boys as my own. And, yes, she knows what I am. I told her when she refused to go to bed with me, fearing she would fall pregnant. Her last birth had been difficult.

Then, six months ago, the Black Ones came banging on my door. They brought me before the almighty Emperor of Nilfgaard himself. He was hail and hardy despite the rumors circulating of his ill health. I had seen him from a distance once and he was stooped and grey but the man that sat before me that day was straight and strong with not a grey hair on his head.

"Benedict Almera. I know what you are." Not who but what. Apparently, someone had seen me returning from one of my nighttime hunting excursions after the drops had faded.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to kill someone." I couldn't escape the Cat heritage. I had no choice but to obey. For my family's sake. Sophia began to liquidate everything, and the boys stocked the hunting cabin I purchased decades ago. I told them to go once the army began to move and I would find them when it was over. I need to find them now before the Blacks Ones do."