For a little while the room had gone pleasantly quiet, as the two boys ate in the warmth of the keep. Well at least for a little while.
The fire cracked softly in the hearth. Somewhere beyond the walls of the keep Cain could hear the distant groan of wind over stone, and the faint sounds of movement from deeper inside Kaer Morhen. Boots moved against floor, as a door shutting, then the low murmur of men used to speaking in rough voices.
Callum, for his part, seemed perfectly at ease.
He ate like a boy who didn't have a care in the world. There was no visible fear, stiffness or anxiety in him. He just sat there and chewed.
Honestly Cain envied that a little. Not because he thought he was fearless. More because he looked like he belonged in his own skin.
While Cain still hadn't gotten use to his.
He felt like he was getting better, the six-day ride had helped a little.
Cain had started training himself to walk, jump, ride, and brace properly. But every now and then the mismatch still hit me, my instincts built for a taller body with more reach and muscle than the one I now had. It made every movement just slightly wrong in a way I couldn't quite explain.
I was still thinking about that when the door of the keep opened. The sound cut through the room immediately made me turn.
A Witcher stepped inside.
The eyes gave him away first, yellow, cat slit-pupiled, catching the firelight with the same unnatural sharpness. But after that, the rest of him followed fast.
He was tall, lean but with a powerful build to him, brown hair. A face that was rougher and harder than Geralt's in some ways, more ruggedly brutish in structure, though not less intelligent for it. A large semi-circular scar marked one cheek in a way that caught the light and made his expression look even sterner than it already was.
Recognition clicked into place almost immediately. Cain recognized the Witcher slightly or he assumed based off the physical features.
That's Eskel! Cain thought.
He looks more like his video game version, but more handsome in a way. Cain had only a few second to take in the fact of who was in front of him before he noticed something else.
Eskel looked upset but Cain didn't understand why.
That's when he spoke.
"So that's where my meat went."
The air of the room changed instantly from that sentence. Eskel's tone wasn't loud, but it carried enough irritation that both Callum and I stiffened. He then closed the door behind him and crossed his arms, looking from the half-emptied plate to Callum, then to me.
"You brats just got here and your already stealing. Big mistake."
I swallowed what food was already in mind and looked at Callum. Then back at the plate and at Eskel.
"Wait," I asked looking at Callum, "this wasn't your food?"
Callum, who had been in the middle of chewing a large bite of his sandwich, went wide-eyed. He tried to answer too quickly, choked, pounded his chest with one fist, and swallowed hard. Finally he managed to blurt out, "Sorry about that, sir! I saw the food and grabbed some. I didn't know it was yours."
Then, to my surprise, he gestured quickly to me.
"Don't be mad at him. He just got here, I just offered him what I had left."
I blinked in surprise. He wasn't letting me share the blame, which actually surprised me.
Wait what did he mean by what he had left. There was enough for for at three people.
But Eskel didn't look impressed by Callum's explanation.
"Well, it doesn't matter if you're sorry, kid," he said. "You ate more than half my deer meat. That was supposed to be stored for the winter."
I turned toward Callum in disbelief.
Half? He had already eaten that much before I got here?
Eskel continued before either of the two could saw more.
"That cheese was Lambert's favorite, and Coën brought the bread." His expression flattened into something that was somehow more scary than anger. "All of that was meant to be rationed."
Callum looked genuinely guilty now. He lowered the remaining piece of the sandwich in his hand and said, "I can go hunt some more deer to make up for it."
Which made Eskel stare at him.
"Oh? Do you even know how to hunt? I thought Coen said you were some nobles bastard son or something?"
Callum made a face somewhere between hopeful and determined . " Who my father is doesn't matter. I can hunt a little, I know how to traps and make lures. Well sort of."
Eskel sighed clearly through his nose.
"It doesn't matter kid. You'd would have to go down the mountain and find and track the deer that hasn't already moved, or been driven off for the season. Most of what's worth hunting nearby is gone for winter. And I doubt your strong enough to use any of the bows he we have here."
Then he looked at me.
"Looks like you got dragged into this kid's mess. Either way you still ate what wasn't yours to eat." He paused, studying my face, then added, "Just so you know, I've got nothing against elves. But when I'm in charge of you two training, I'll work you until everything you ate is returned with interest. Next time don't take food from strangers."
Both Callum and I gulped.
Then, in the midst of bad situation, an idea came to me.
"Excuse me," I said. "What's your name?"
He raised an eyebrow, as if that was not the question he expected. " It's Eskel."
I nodded once. " Hello Eskel, I'm Cain."
"Well look at that, you got more manners then that brat over there."
I took a breath.
"I'll gladly pay for eating without permission," I said. "But… when the deer and other animals return, could you teach me how to hunt them?"
That made Eskel pause. He looked faintly confused. "Why should I?"
"So I can pay back the witchers for the food I ate." Cain said calmly.
Eskel's expression didn't change right away. But Cain could tell the answer got through to the Witcher. But before he could respond, another voice entered the room.
"That's actually a good thinking, Cain."
The three then turned, noticing Vesemir stood in the doorway.
He looked from Eskel to the plate to Callum and then to Cain, and for a second Cain could tell he understood exactly what had happened without needing a full explanation. The older Witcher's eyes lingered on the half-empty food, then on Callum's guilty expression.
Since the two of them will need two or three years before they can take the Trials," Vesemir said, "it'll do them both good to start learning now. Plus if they know how to hunt that's less work for you and more a chore for them."
He looked at Eskel.
Eskel looked like he was pondering on what Vesemir was saying, like it wasn't have of a bad idea.
The he continued. "Why not take them outside and put them through their paces?"
Eskel held his stare for half a second, then nodded after hearing both idea's.
"Fine. That'll work for me. They will have to deal with Lamber and Coen later." Eskel then pointed at the plate.
"You two finish the rest of that and meet me outside in the yard. You've got five minutes. And you better enjoy that food while it's still in your stomach."
Callum and I both looked at Eskel.
Deep down, I already knew what was coming. They were about to get destroyed. While Callum was already back to eating, and looked unbothered by anythign that was said.
The second Eskel stepped aside and Vesemir left with him, a system panel appeared in front of Cain's eyes.
System Notification: New Quest Series Unlocked and Activated
Common Quest:Daily Training Series
Objective: Complete the daily training received by witcher instructors.
Rewards will depend on level of difficulty.
Current Rewards: Health and Stamina fully restored. +1 Ability Point
Optional: Bonus rewards may be presented if hidden conditions are met.
Cain read the quest window twice, then once more.
A daily quest series?
It was strange how this system managed to feel manipulative and helpful at the same time. It wasn't outright threatening me here, and their was no accept or decline prompt either. The timing made everything obvious enough.
I have to complete the training everyday, and I will grow stronger and get rewarded at the same time. Technically there was nothing wrong with all this, so I couldn't exactly complain.
Training was coming whether I liked it or not. And if the system wanted to incentivize it with rewards, then that only made my life easier.
But still, I didn't entirely trust it, and that feeling wasn't going away anytime soon.
Callum was already shoving the last of the sandwich into his mouth when I dismissed the panel.
He then looked at the half eaten sandwich in mine and eyed it.
Cain broke of half of his and handed it to Callum, clearly seeing the boy was still hungry. " Here have it."
Callum's eyes widen in pure joy. " Your the best Cain."
Callum said as he devoured the food in a few bites.
Seriously where does the kid put it all.
"We should hurry," he said around a half-chewed bite.
I nodded and the two of us got up immediately and ran out the room. Within minutes, we were outside. Where Eskel was waiting for us.
The cold air hit the two hard, making them shiver within seconds, but Eskel stood their stoically like stone. And looked completely unbothered.
Several minutes later, Cain was in pain. The most realest pain he had felt since coming this world.
Eskel had started the two off with sprints around the yard. Not something reasonable for two six-year-olds new to a mountain fortress in winter. But those were by Cain's old world standards.
He had them sprinting laps through the packed snow and cold stone.
Cains lungs burned and his legs felt like they were made of lead. Every breath stabbed through his chest. As the cold air scraped at his throat. His nose ran. His feet thudded numbly against frozen ground that sent shock after shock up my little body.
And every time he thought Eskel was about to have them stop...
"Squats."
He made them do squat.
They were deep, repeated, vicious squats in the freezing air while he watched with his arms crossed and the sort of expression that suggested this was nothing. Not even enough to count as "mean." Just necessary.
Callum looked tired, sure, but he took it in stride in a way that both impressed and annoyed me. He struggled, sweated, breathed hard, and kept moving without much visible resentment.
Cain?
He was having a much harder time. Not because he was weak. Well mentally he wasn't.
Because he body still wasn't fully in synch with his new body.
It responded to his commands, yes. But nothing felt completely natural yet. His limbs were shorter than my brain expected them to be. His balance points were different. My endurance was that of a child who had not lived through military and sports conditioning, weight training, or adult-level martial art exertion. His mind remembered discipline. My flesh could not keep up yet.
Every sprint made that obvious, and every squat reinforced it. But he pushed through it all anyway.
If anything, this was exactly what he knew he needed. He was rebuilding his body from the ground up, but at a younger age. With his other worldly knowledge on martial arts and physical training. Not to mention being a half elf. His new body had would have more advantages and be better then his old human body.
But the process getting there would painful, brutal, and ever more bad this time considering if the training or trials don't kill me. Then fighting monsters or bandits just might.
But that's what the training is for, and the system while it's still useful that is. If I was going to survive here, I needed to adapt to this body and world as fast as possible. I need to break myself and rebuild myself constantly. Making sure to hit and surpass my limits daily.
After more time of the two boys sprinting and squatting, Eskel made the boys finally stop the sprints and squats.
"That was a good warm up brat's, now on you face."
He immediately made us drop to the cold snow covered grown for push-ups.
While Callum struggled a little keeping pace with Eskels count. I struggled a lot.
My arms shook halfway through the first few. By ten, I thought they might give out entirely. My chest hovered inches above the snow-packed ground while my elbows trembled like they were going to snap backward. My whole body was shaking.
But I kept going despite the pain. It felt like I was at Paris Island again, which in a way motivated me to keep pushing myself, thinking what my old drill instructors would say.
Every time my mind and screamed to quit, another thought rose up to crush it.
The weaker I was the quicker I would die. And I didn't want to die and a shit world like this, well not at least without seeing it or being with some beautiful sorceress or elven beauties.
Stupid as it sounded my drill instructor told me, and the other recruits one day. To find something to keep us grounded and push us to keep going in bootcamp. Those 13 weeks were pure hell and the majority of everyone hated it there.
But we were told the quickest way off the island was to complete the training. So they told us whether it was a girl, pride, family, or whatever. Hold on to it.
I would have to do the same here. I need info to why I was here and needed to know how I would get home. Those were my anchors. The woman were a bonus.
Cain kept pushing himself. Managing to do another, then another, and another.
He then lost count after a while.
He just stayed focused on the training. It's meant to be unforgiving it's Witcher-style training. And it was being applied to the two boys without apology because one day the monsters wouldn't apologize for eating them either.
By the time Eskel finally told them to stop, Cain felt like I had been worked for hours.
His hands were nearly numb from the frozen ground. Clothes were damp with sweat. His nose wouldn't stop running. His legs trembled so badly he thought they might fold under him if he stood still for too long.
Callum looked almost as bad. Almost being the key word. The boy had showed that the cold and harsh training was nothing more then a after meal workout. He looked like he could keep going from Cain's perspective.
Eskel looked at boys for a long moment, then said, " That's enough for today."
I nearly sagged where I stood from hearing that. Then he added, "Callum, don't steal food and drag others into your mess."
Callum nodded rapidly. "Yes, sir."
"Cain," Eskel said, turning to me, " remember don't take handouts from strangers."
I swallowed and nodded too. "Yes, sir." If only he knew about the system and it's rewards.
Eskel sighed, but there was something slightly less sharp in it now.
"Go inside. Warm up. And good luck, I'm nicer compared to him."
We did not need to be told twice. But we did look at each other, not understanding that last statement.
Callum and I half-ran, half-stumbled back into the keep, the heat inside hitting us like a blessing. But the moment we entered the dining hall, I saw another man waiting there, leaning lazily against one of the stone walls.
I recognized him instantly.
Lambert.
He looked younger than the version I remembered from the games. Taller too. Lean, dark-haired, with sharp features and the signature yellow Witcher eyes. His face was long in a way that made his expression naturally seem more unimpressed than it probably was. And, to my momentary surprise, his hairline wasn't receding at all.
I then began to understand what Eskel meant from his last statement. He was done with us but Lambert was gonna have his turn with us next.
Lambert looked the two over as they stumbled inside. There was a look on his face Cain and Callum couldn't quite place.
Amusement maybe. Possibly the kind that came before mockery.
"Hey there brats, so how was my cheese?" he said.
Later, Callum and Cain were on our knees scrubbing the floors of the dining hall, with rough cloths and pails of water.
Apparently "training" in Kaer Morhen included a shit ton of labor, with punishment, and probably whatever else the Witcher's felt like defining as useful for building character.
My arms and legs were still sore from Eskels training. And now I was using both while kneeling over a damp stone floor, scrubbing old dirt from between cracks in the flagstones while Lambert watched with the kind of expression that suggested he would happily keep us there all night if it amused him.
That's when system window.
System Notification: Daily Training Quest Complete
Rewards Received: Health and Stamina Fully Restored .+1 Ability Point
Bonus Reward Received: +1 to all attributes that strengthened
System Notification: Your body has grown from training.
+1 Constitution
+1 Strength
+1 Dexterity
+1 Charisma
My eyes widened, as a strange warm wave of energy washed through me. The sudden exhaustion and sore muscles faded instantly.
Cain's muscles not only felt at ease, they felt slightly stronger as well. His breathing steadied. His mind had felt clear and focused.
He had to force myself not to visibly react too much. Because if Lambert noticed his tiredness vanishing mid-floor scrub, he had no idea how I would explain that or Lambert might just take that as Cain hitting his second wind and make the punishment worse.
And he didn't want to do that especially to Callum. Even if he is the reason Cain was in this mess to begin with.
Cain thought his attribute gains from the last few quest, must be great if his he's feeling this good.
Cain opened his status window immediately under the cover of looking down at the floor.
Status Window
Name: Cain
Age: 6
Race: Half-Elf (Human, Elven)
Bloodline Trait: [Sealed]
Class: None
Attributes:
Constitution: 8
Strength: 7
Dexterity: 7
Wisdom: 13
Intelligence: 9
Charisma: 9
Ability Points: 2
I stared at how most of my stats had risen by at least three points since arriving at Kaer Morhen. And that was just through the rewards from quests, bonuses, and a single brutal training session. I almost smiled.
Just imagine how strong I would get after two or three years. No just imagine how strong I could become after becoming a Witcher.
In that moment Cain didn't worry about if he would die from the Trial of the Grasses, but how much powerful he would become.
And that thought did put a small smile on his face.
I don't know if this is the man in me that's want's to be the strongest or the gamer in me. Maybe it's both. All I know is that, this might actually be fun.
Not the near-death part. Trials. Or freezing mountain, the prejudice, or the constant danger of fighting monsters.
But the growth and visible progression. The feeling and know I'm becoming stronger in a world that demanded strength brings me a sense of joy.
Then Callum spoke beside me.
"Hey, Cain."
I looked over to Callum. He was scrubbing more slowly, his red hair sticking slightly to his forehead with sweat despite the cold, his expression a mixture of awkwardness and sincerity.
"Sorry about dragging you into that mess with me." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Hope you're not too angry."
I shook my head.
"It's water under the bridge," I said. "Besides, I figure they would've worked us half to death one way or another."
Callum laughed at that.
I added, "At least we got food out of the deal."
That made him grin.
Then I asked, "But what was that about you eating half the deer meat?"
Callum chuckled and went back to scrubbing. " What can I say. I've always had a big appetite."
I nodded slowly. "Gotcha. tell you what, I can give you some of my food every now and again."
His head whipped toward me so fast I almost laughed.
"Wait you really mean that?"
I hesitated. In all fairness, I hadn't fully thought that through, but it was too late now. So I nodded and said, "Sure. If you do some of my chores."
Callum immediately stuck his hand out, grin back in full force. "It's a deal."
I shook his hand. His palm was smaller than mine had once been, but a lot rougher than I expected for a child.
That's when Lambert's voice cut across the hall like a whip. "Hey, you little food thieves. Less talking, more scrubbing, or you'll be here all night."
Callum and I both jumped slightly, then got back to work. But there was a different feeling to it now.
Callum kept smiling to himself, probably imagining future extra food. And I found that I didn't mind by friends with Callum. He seemed like a decent kid.
Elsewhere in the keep, deep in Kaer Morhen's library, firelight flickered over old shelves, cracked leather spines, and scattered manuscripts. The room smelled of parchment, dust, lamp oil, and long-kept knowledge.
Vesemir and Coën stood over a table covered in books from the School of the Cat and Wolf.
Some were bound in faded leather. Others were stitched in rougher fashion, with pages reinforced by hand repairs and notes written in multiple inks.
Loose sheets lay between them, formula comparisons, mutation adjustments, alchemical ratios and formula's, possible botanical substitutions, and margin notes written by a woman from what Vesemir could tell.
Vesemir turned one page carefully, his eyes narrowing as he read. "These notes might actually work," he said at last.
Coën rested one hand on the table and leaned in. "You think so?"
"I think," Vesemir said slowly, "that whoever wrote this wasn't a fool. They may actually be a genius." His finger tapped a section of the page.
"They weren't trying to reinvent the Trial completely. They were adjusting the stabilizing sequence. Slowing the body's rejection response. Altering when specific compounds are introduced. If done right…"
He trailed off but Coën finished it. "The survival rate improves."
Vesemir nodded once.
"But it'll take time. We'll need the right ingredients, not near substitutes. The exact right ones. And some of these formulas need testing against what we still have from the Wolf records."
Coën frowned thoughtfully. "We should find a druid. Or a sorceress."
Vesemir let out a low breath through his nose. "Druids hate the Trials. To them it's a violation of the natural order." He turned another page and read a line twice. "A sorceress would be better but harder to secure. Not to mention they are harder and more dangerous to trust."
Coën's gaze dropped to another page filled with notes in a tighter, more disciplined hand.
"True but we have to figure out something. And what about the half-elf boy?"
Vesemir was silent for a moment. Then he said, "If these adjustments are correct, Cain might actually benefit from the elven side of his blood."
Coën looked up sharply.
Vesemir continued, voice thoughtful and grim. "Longer-lived systems. Possibly better resistance to toxin stress. More stable response to certain compounds if the sequence is right." His eyes moved to another page. "Even Callum's odds would improve."
"By how much?" Coen asked
Vesemir's expression hardened into caution. "At least by five percent at minimum. Ten percent at the highest."
Coën nodded slowly.
"It's not much, but it's worth pursuing."
Vesemir looked down at the pages spread before them, old secrets of a rival school laid bare by chance, death, and whatever strange path had brought them here.
"Yes," he said quietly. "It is."