The Witcher: Part XXVIII
The Happy Prince
Previously, on The Witcher:
Geralt realised that he couldn't fly his magick carpet across the sea, as this took too much energy and effort. So Team Witcher fell into the cold and treacherous waters.
How will our heroes make it out of this predicament?
Geralt found himself face-down in the sand. He had washed up on shore.
He rolled over, and saw Ciri and Iorverth and Lady Feudalism in a similar state.
They all slowly got sat up.
"Looks like it's the end of our quest then," said Ciri drearily. "We've beaten Nazi Elf Draugr and Himmlers and Muslims Fundamentalists, but we can't get across a small stretch of ocean."
They kind of just sat there on the beach silently, in utter defeat.
After about half an hour, a man wearing a gold crown and tights, with shoulder length hair approached Team Witcher.
"Who are you?" asked Geralt to the man.
"I am the prince of this general area," he said, smiling. "They call me the Happy Prince."
"Why have you come to talk to us beach people?" asked Ciri, who had already resigned to the fact that she would likely spend the rest of her life sitting on this beach.
"You lot want to get to the Northern Continent, right?" said the Happy Prince.
"Yes," they all said.
"I have a way to get there," said the Happy Prince. "All I ask is that you lot provide protection for me so I can get safely across the ocean."
Team Witcher and the Happy Prince arrived in the port of the nearest town.
"Here are a variety of my favourite ships," said the Happy Prince, motioning in the general direction of some boats bobbing up and down in the water.
"This one here is pretty good. They call it the Ciralt," he then said, motioning to one particular boat. "Or this ship - Seveudalism."
"Or how about this one: Iorveudalism?"
"What's your favourite ship, though?" asked Lady Feudalism, who was suddenly interested in nautical matters for some reason.
"This ship," said the Happy Prince, who pointed at the most majestic ship in the port. "They call it the Geralady Feudalism."
"I want that one," said Lady Feudalism. They boarded the ship, and they set sail.
"Okay, I have something to confess," said the Happy Prince suddenly.
"What?" asked Iorverth.
"I'm... uh... not actually a prince, and this isn't my boat," explained the 'Happy Prince'.
"Then who are you?" asked Geralt.
"My name is Oscar Wilde. I needed to convince you lot to come with me on this ship, so I dressed up as a prince," he said, casually chucking the crown on his head into the water.
It was now clear it was made of cardboard.
"Why do you need our help?" asked Geralt, immediately taking an altruistic position.
"There are some people who are out to kill me, and I need to escape to the Northern Continent," replied Oscar Wilde. "So I need you lot to defend me from them. And also to defend me from the owner of this ship, should they come after us."
Geralt then realised he had participated in the stealing of the Geralady Feudalism.
He was a thief.
Severus bowed to the Seer Abigail, who had agreed to give him a free fortunetelling on the basis of his importance to the future.
"Thou wilt one day rule the world," she had said. He stepped out of her hut, and smiled at his travelling companions.
"I'm going to rule the world one day," he said. "We're going to defeat my father and that moron Geralt."
"I don't believe in fortunetellers," said Communist O'Lenin. "I don't need any phony fortuneteller to tell me what I can and cannot do in the future."
"Come on, O'Lenin, I just would appreciate an optimistic attitude," said Severus.
It was a bright morning in Vizima. The mighty hero stood before the crowd, basking in their adoration.
Countless men, women, and children crowded around him just to lay a finger on his tunic.
One child walked up to him.
"What is your name?" asked the hero.
"Iorverth, sir," replied the child.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" asked the hero.
"I want to be a hero like you," replied the child. A few seconds later, the currents in the crowd shifted, and the child was swept away.
That evening, the child spoke to his mother.
"I want to be a hero when I grow up," he said. "I want to save entire towns and cities and stuff."
His mother nodded.
"I want to fly around and shoot lasers out of my eyes at baddies."
"Sounds like a good career decision," said the child's mother.
"You can be a hero, you know," came a voice from behind the child. A shortish man with pointed ears stood before him.
"I wondered how long it would take before I could break through into your dreams," he said.
"I'm dreaming?" asked the child.
"Yeah," said the pointy ear man. "In the real world, your real self is sleeping and is also an adult. But he's not a hero."
"But he can become one."
"Beneath the ocean surface, beneath the ship that you sleep aboard, there is a sunken city. One of the earliest cities of the elves. If you let me take over, then I will be able to save those elves and bring back their city."
"And you'll be a hero."
"I want to be a hero! Yeah!" said the child.
The next morning, Geralt and Lady Feudalism and Ciri and Oscar Wilde were all out on the deck.
"Where's Iorverth?" asked Lady Feudalism.
"I don't know," replied Geralt. They searched the whole ship for him.
He was not found.
"There is only one place he could have gone," said Lady Feudalism ominously.
"Where?" asked Geralt.
"Into the ocean," replied Lady Feudalism.
"Oh no!" said Geralt.
TO BE CONTINUED
IN
THE WITCHER: PART XXIX
ATLANTIS