Cain kept staring at the man standing in the yard. He just couldn't help it. No matter how many impossible things he had already accepted since waking up in that frozen alley. More surprises kept coming his way, but he really wasn't prepared for this one.
The man looked just like Jeffrey Dean Morgan in the flesh. But he looked more hardened, weathered, with the cat slit-pupiled eyes of a Witcher. He had a kind of presence that made the air around him feel settled and dangerous at the same time.
What the hell?
He was broad-shouldered. His hair was gray, and shaved close on the sides and pulled back into a long, pointed tail. Witcher leathers sat on him like a second skin, worn but maintained, and his face looked exactly wrong and right at the same time.
Wrong because this was impossible. Right because somehow, in this world, it fit.
That's when he spoke. "Geralt, welcome back." His voice was older, rough with years and use. Then his eyes shifted to Cain, narrowing slightly as he took in his features. "And I see you brought an interesting new recruit?"
Geralt stopped Roach in the center of the yard and dismounted first. He lifted me down after him, my feet crunching against the snow-packed stone as I landed. My legs were still stiff from the ride, but I kept my balance and kept my face calm.
Geralt gave Roach's reins a brief pat before looking at the older Witcher.
"Found him on the way back," he said. "In a human village near the end of Dol Blathanna borders. He was naked, alone, and a Katakan had nearly gotten him."
The older Witcher's gaze sharpened from what he heard. Then Geralt continued.
"No one in the village knew who he was. Boy says his name is Cain. Claims he remembers almost nothing. So I gave him some options and he chose this. Willingly mind you."
That got the older Witcher's full attention.
Geralt jerked his chin slightly toward me. "Vesemir, he wants to be a witcher. He's little young, but he shows some potential."
Wait he said Vesemir!
Hearing the name out loud only made the visual mismatch hit harder. So this was the Vesemir of this Witcher universe.
The universe is so weird. A Geralt that looks like Henry Cavil , and Vesemir that looked like Jeffrey Morgan. It made Cain wonder how the other character in this universe are gonna look. Yennefer. Ciri. Triss. Jaskier. Are they all gonna look like Hollywood actors?
As much as that wouldn't be too bad, it just made Cain think this world was less and less real. Or that the creator of this world changed a lot of things to fit their Aesthetics. That he could respect at least.
I noticed how Vesemir kept looking at me. And then I realized, belatedly, that I had still been staring at him.
He then crouched down in front of me, slow and steady, his old joints still moving with the ease of like he was still somewhat young. His expression was like that of a assessor.
Cain could tell Vesemir was assessing, but for what Cain couldn't tell.
"You've been staring at me a lot, little one," he said. "Is there a problem?"
I forced myself to get a grip and remember the face may be different but this world still follows the lore and logic from the books. I believe.
My heart gave one hard beat, and then I answered as evenly as I could. "No, sir. Just… taking it all in."
Vesemir studied Cain for another second, then glanced up at Geralt while rising back to his feet.
"I understand this must all be a lot. Can't say we ever had a half-elf in our ranks," he said. "Heard rumors once, back in the day, about the School of the Cat taking a few. One of them even becoming grandmaster, if the stories were true."
I knew immediately who he was talking about. The half elf Witcher, Gezras of Leyda. He was a a renowned Witcher from the 11th-century. He was also the founder of the School of the Cat. It's weird Vesemir didn't know that.
But without recorded text after the schism of the Witcher School, I can believe some information can slip through the cracks overtime.
Vesemir continued, more to Geralt now than to me. "But I also heard the same stories say the Cats took women too, so without their records it's hard to say what was truth and what was drunken embellishment."
Geralt gave a small shrug. "Could be either. If I ever run across some on the road I will ask, if their not trying to kill me either."
Vesemir nodded and looked back at me.
"How old is the boy?"
"Six," Geralt answered.
Vesemir's expression shifted then. He studied Cain's physique and limbs. Cain could almost see the practical considerations behind his eyes.
"He's too young for the Trial," Vesemir said at last. "That at least is clear." He folded his arms over his chest and looked briefly toward the fortress proper before returning his attention to Geralt. "We could spend the next two years training him. Three at most, if needed."
My chest tightened slightly. Two to three years of training. This would be a lot better then if I took the trial now of all times. It gives me time to grow and prepare. Who knows I might develop a skill or ability to help me survive the trial.
But that's when I noticed Vesemir's expression darkened.
"But there's another problem we have to worry about."
I focused completely on him. His next words landed exactly where I feared they would.
"I don't know if our mutation process will work for him. He's a half-elf." Vesemir's voice had gone quieter now, heavier. "And it doesn't help that we don't have a sorcerer or sorceress here to help stabilize the process. If anything, his odds may be worse than usual."
Vesemir didn't stop to let that settle in. "We might be sentencing the boy to a slower and uglier death."
Silence immediately followed that statement.
I felt Geralt's eyes on me before he spoke. "You heard that," he said. "Still want to go through with it?"
I didn't even hesitate. More like I couldn't, not because I was fearless. That wasn't even close to the truth. But because turning back wasn't an option for me.
Even without the system threatening death, I already knew I was too far in to pretend there was another path I actually wanted or could take.
"I do," I said. My voice came out steadier than I felt.
Geralt didn't argue. He just looked at Vesemir and said, "There you have it." Then his expression shifted slightly, as if remembering something.
"Also ran into Coën while I was in Dol Blathanna," he added.
That got Vesemir's and Cain's attention immediately.
Geralt continued, "He had a boy with him too. Said the child's parents gave him over with some Witcher books."
Vesemir's brows drew together. "What kind of books?"
"Cat School material," Geralt said. "From what I saw, there were training texts. Notes too. I caught sight of writings on the Trial of the Grasses. More than that, actually. Notes on altered formulas. Alchemical changes. Adjustments to the process. Whoever had them before tried to make alterations for the trial to make it more stable."
My pulse kicked up hard, but I kept my face down and silent, but inside my thoughts lit up. That was huge, no this was massive, and potentially life-saving. For me
Because if there were alternative formulas, actual notes, school records, alchemic adjustments to the trial. Then the chance of me surviving the Trial as a half-elf might not rest entirely on guesswork and hope.
It didn't exactly guarantee one hundred percent success. But it meant a higher chance of living.
Vesemir's face turned thoughtful in a way that looked dangerous all by itself. "Coën came yesterday," he said. "The boy with him too. He mentioned books, but I haven't looked at them yet, I been dealing with the dead."
He exhaled slowly. "I just put another batch through the Trials. Five boys." He paused. "None survived."
I felt the cold more sharply for a second, even standing in the shadow of Kaer Morhen itself. Five boys dead just like that.
Here they weren't just numbers in the lore of the book. Or background tragedy for a game. These were real children. I could possibly be one of them. Which brought home how real the situation was.
Vesemir kept going.
"Eskel and Lambert returned for winter as well. I've been busy burying the dead and keeping things in order." He rubbed briefly at his beard, then nodded once to himself. "I'll look over the books. But until then, we train the boys."
His eyes flicked to me. "Him and the other child are the same age, so it works out better for everyone?"
"Looks it," Geralt said.
"Good enough." Vesemir straightened. "Until I've reviewed those texts, that's what we do."
Geralt nodded. "Right."
Then Geralt looked at me and pointed toward the fortress interior. " Go inside through that door. Follow the hall until you find a room with a hearth. There should be another boy in there. Stay put until someone comes for you."
I nodded immediately. "Yes, sir."
He gave me a look, then I corrected myself. "Yes, Geralt."
That seemed to satisfy him as his expression changed. I turned and started walking the door. Happy to get out of the cold. I didn't say anything but my feet were freezing. I still didn't really have shoes.
My feet made soft sounds over the cold stone as I crossed the yard and headed for the door Geralt had indicated. The doors of Kaer Morhen were tall, iron-banded, old enough to look like they belonged to a stronghold built to outlast dynasties.
Up close, the damage to the keep was even easier to see chipped edges, cracks in the stone, weather-worn mortar, sections that had clearly been repaired at different times with different levels of success.
The place felt ancient but enduring.
As I stepped through the doorway and out of the yard proper, their voices carried just enough for me to hear the tail end of the conversation behind me.
"Half-elf and looks like that," Vesemir was saying. "Light brown skin, gold eyes, snow-white hair. If he makes it, life will only get harder for him."
Geralt answered after a pause. "I know."
Then, quieter, almost reluctant: "But something tells me he's meant to be here."
Vesemir's reply. There was amusement in it. "I didn't take you for one who believes in destiny."
Geralt's answer came flat and immediate. "I don't believe in destiny."
Then after a moment. Geralt continued.
"I just… ran into the boy. But I've got this feeling. Call it instinct if you want. Like I was meant to find him and bring him here."
Vesemir's tone softened after that. "Well, for now you're home. Rest. See your brothers. I'll take care of the boys."
Geralt answered with a quiet, "Good to see you, Vesemir."
The hallway inside Kaer Morhen was long, broad, and dimly lit by torches set into iron brackets. The air smelled like old stone, smoke, leather, steel oil, and the faint cold draft that seemed impossible to keep fully out of a fortress this old. My footsteps echoed more than I wanted them to, making me feel smaller than I already was.
Still, I was alone now. Which was the best time for me to check my reward. I slowed near a bend in the hall, making sure no one was immediately in sight, then opened the system window.
System Notification: Common Equipment Chest — Opened
Rewards Received: Limitless Waterskin. Runic Sharpening Stone
I blinked.
This seemed… underwhelming. Or at least it looked underwhelming at first glance.
Compared to the Hunter's Edge Knife, these rewards felt small. Then again, the chest had only been common rank. That probably mattered more than I'd first considered. Chest quality likely affected the item's rarity.
So far I received Common and Rare. Not a rare quest but a rare chest from a common quest. I wonder what is the qualification for my rewards and the quest.
I frowned and focused on the items one by one.
Limitless Waterskin (Common): A waterskin made from the hide of a water spirit. Supplies a limitless amount of clean drinking water.
Runic Sharpening Stone (Common): A sharpening stone made by elven blacksmiths.
Effect: Restores a weapon's sharpness and improves it by 5%. Grants one random runic blessing for 24 hours.The stone will break after the third use.
Remaining Uses: 3
Cain stopped walking entirely and then he reread the texts again. And then again.
His confusion vanished so fast it almost became laughter.
Did I really just get a limitless supply of clean drinking water? In a medieval setting like the Witcher world, this is insanely valuable.
Cain knew this was the kind of item that seemed simple right until you thought about it for more than a few seconds. Never worrying about finding fresh streams. No rationing as brutally on the road. No risk from dirty water if the item functioned exactly as described.
In a world where bad water alone could cripple or kill, peasants, travelers, spread disease, and complicate long journeys, this was extraordinary. I could definitely make a lot of money off of this.
I moved to the second item, and my eyes narrowed with much more interest. It seemed Extremely useful.
A portable sharpening alone was a great find, where blade maintenance is the difference between life and death. But also improving its edge mattered even more rare. And a random runic blessing for a full day? That could mean almost anything from heightened cutting power to better durability to elemental enhancement.
Sure, randomness meant I couldn't fully rely on it. But in a desperate situation, a temporary magical buff on a weapon was the kind of thing that could absolutely decide whether I lived or died.
Even though three uses wasn't a lot. It was still better then one.
And the more I thought about it, the more I realized something important about the system's item design so far.
It wasn't just giving me flashy fantasy nonsense. They felt more like survival tools, with practical advantages.
These items solved alot real problems I would face in the future. Clean drinking water. Sharper and stronger weapons. Healing potions that won't poison me. And a weapon that returned when thrown.
They all fit the pattern too well to ignore. Son now I'm starting to think the system does want me alive. But that still didn't make it trustworthy.
I closed the item descriptions and started walking again. As I approached the hearth room Geralt had mentioned, another window appeared in front of my eyes.
System Notification: New Quest Available
Common Ranked Quest: Pack of Wolf Cubs
Objective: Form a bond/friendship with your fellow Witcher apprentice.
Rewards: 2 Attribute Points. 1 New Ability
[Accept / Decline]
I paused just outside the door.
This was new and no death threat either. Not one warning or coercive line at the bottom about refusing meant instant death.
I stared at the quest for a second for a second longer than I meant to. So the system wasn't forcing every quest.
That's interesting and suspicious.
The last thing I expected was a friendship quest of all things.
I nearly snorted.
Then again, it made sense. If I was going to spend the next two or three years training beside another recruit, forming an actual bond with him would have practical value. Trust mattered. We would share in the same suffering in a place like Kaer Morhen. Especially with the Trial of the Grasses.
Plus the rewards were good.
Two attribute points and a new ability for just making a friend? That was almost absurdly generous. Unless "bond/friendship" meant something deeper than simply being polite. Or unless the system considered interpersonal connections more strategically important than I did. That wouldn't surprise me either.
But still, another thought came quickly on the heels of the last one.
This is going to be annoying.
Because whatever this kid was like, Cain was still himself. A grown man in a six-year-old body. It will be hard trying not to come off weird around an actual child was already exhausting in theory. Having to act like a child but a bright one with the knowledge of future events will be exhausting beyond reason.
Plus children of this era are a little more simple then the ones I grew up with. So some concepts I grew up with don't even exist.
Cain sighed while rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It really does suck being stuck in a child's body,"
Then he mentally selected [Accept].
The window then vanished, as he put a hand on the door and pushed. A warm air rolled out immediately as the door opened, carrying with it the smell of hearthfire, and cooked meat.
The room inside was larger than I expected.
Wide enough for two beds on opposite sides, with a broad hearth against the far wall and a thick woven rug stretched across the stone floor in front of it. A couple of wooden chests sat against one wall.
Hooks for cloaks and belts had been driven into another. The space was still sparse, still clearly a keep room and not anything luxurious, but compared to the road it looked practically civilized.
And there was a boy sitting by the hearth.
He turned at the sound of the door opening.
The first thing Cain noticed was his hair. Short. Red. Cut just to his ears. The second was his eyes—bright emerald green, clear and sharp in the firelight.
The boy had fair skin and was handsome in an obvious way even at this age, with features that would probably grow cleaner and stronger with time. He wore a tunic over a linen shirt, with trousers and boots that looked a little better made than anything I had been wearing so far. Not noble quality exactly, but not village rags either.
The boy was chewing on something when he looked at Cain. Bread, he realized. Bread and salted meat sandwiched together from the look.
Then the boy smiled smiled with a mouthful of food.
"Hello," he said, words slightly muddled by chewing. "Didn't know there were other kids here besides me."
He lifted a wooden plate toward me. "I'm Callum. Want a bite?"
I blinked. I didn't expect a handsome you kind to over me food with a smile the moment I entered one of the harshest places in this world.
Then, despite everything, a small smile tugged at my mouth. Maybe this kid wouldn't be so bad after all.
"Hello, Callum," I said. "I'm Cain. And yes. I would love some food. I'm starving."
Callum's grin widened immediately, as if I had just passed some invisible test. He shifted over on the rug to make room for me beside the hearth.
"Good. I was starting to think I'd have to eat all of it myself."
I crossed the room and sat down next to him.
Up close, the plate held slices of rough bread, some salted cooked meat, and a small wedge of hard cheese. It wasn't anything fancy unless you were a starving peasant that hadn't eaten in days. Exactly the sort of food I'd expect in a place like this good thing I'm not picking when it comes to survival.
Callum handed me a piece without hesitation, and I started putting the meat between the bread the same way he had.
The warmth of the hearth soaked into one side of my body. As the smell of the food made my stomach tighten. My first bite into the food was amazing. It's not seasoned like my modern taste buds would like it to be but, compared to the food in America.
This stuff was heaven. The cheese was and bread was genuine, and the meat felt so tough and real, and no added chemicals or hormones.
Cain almost cried at the tough he got to taste real food again.
For a moment, neither of the two spoke, they just ate. Not knowing the future the world had in store for them.