This is an old story from times when cyrus trees in the deep mountains were only seeds, from times, when the light sand was a tought shapeless granite. This is a story long forgotten about times, when individuals with special poweres were living among us, the people of Siurdia.
These creatures with human features, also called Witchers or Guardians, possessed an immense power to bend rules of nature according to their taste and will by a single thought. They appeared among us from nowhere and with no apparent reason, born of a human father as well as mother. They were saying they came from the depths of mother Arelsien's womb to protect her. And so they did. They guarded woods, rivers, they cleansed and...
There was a war, a brutal one. Humans, once living free, were restricted by these creatures to protect the living plants and animals. But they started to die out. They didn't have children, so their race was predestined to become extinct. It took years, even decades, but after a long time, only one of them remained. The story I'm going to tell is the story about its life, its doing and about its death.
Its... or rather, I should say, his name was unpronounceable. Urukhulumwatalkolorog was born in a small village on a hill to a poor family and was soon recognised as one of the Witchers. When two years old, he was as strong as a five-year-old and as intelligent as a nine-year-old. He could speak, count, see the thoughts and strength of the trees and all other living beings. That was the time when his father and mother were murdered by an anxious and frightened mob, that was afraid of him.
The boy escaped and disappeared in woods, where he lived for years. Outside society, outside of the war.
He exited the woods after he turned seventeen. As tall as any grown-up with wisdom of elderly. He knew all of the plants, all of the trees and animals in his surroundings were tamed. He could extract gold from the earth by touching it, he could call down the rain if he wished, he could set up a fire with a single thought. But he had no idea what mankind was like.
He entered the society of men, whose memory was still fresh and well aware of his capabilities. He wanted to educate them, to show them how to live in peace and in harmony with mother Arelsien. But he was misunderstood. Filled by fear, driven by despair, people tried to kill him. All except one - there was a man, a thirty year old guy, who took him by hand and hid him in his house.
"I am Elek," he started. "I don't want to harm you. I am one of the Peaceful. You should never have come here, but don't worry, I will help you to escape."
"I don't want to. Your people need to see, that they have to change. Otherwise doom will follow your steps."
„We know that. We knew that even before you came. But there are Opportunists, who dislike you, your ideas and the way of living you represent. They don't like to be restricted, when there's nothing to stop them. Your kind tried to stop them and the war started."
Elek and the Witcher talked a lot that night. Elek told him how the war broke out because of an incident, when one of the gold diggers disappeared in thin air. Elek explained the history: how Guardians were hunted down, exiled and forced to found their own settlements. He told Urukhulumwatalkolorog, whom he nicknamed Lor later that night, that humans have divided themselves into two camps: Peaceful - those who helped the Guardians - and Opportunists - who tried and killed the Guardians. Lor's kind got thinner and soon there was none but Lor.
"You are the last and the only one," Elek said with shame and sadness in his voice.
"Therefore, as last of my kind, I ask you to provide me an audience with your people."