"Your legs... They're giving out."
"Ah... Ahh..." I struggled to catch my breath.
"And your strikes still lack power."
"Ah... Ahhh..." I exhaled, feeling my muscles strain.
"Alright, that's enough for today," Geralt concluded.
I was breathing heavily, bent over with my hands on my knees, my gaze fixed on the ground. My breath was speeding up, and I felt each heartbeat. My muscles burned like never before, and my clothes stuck to my skin from the effort. This is Spartan training, I tell you! But it's effective, and if I want to get stronger in this world, I have no choice but to go through with it.
This all started a week ago. After a serious conversation with Geralt, he showed me to my room without a word about what I'd said to Vesemir. But the one who's changed the most since then is Ciri. At first, she complained about the exercises and quit after two days. But one day, I caught her watching me with a serious, almost determined look in her eyes. She understood that I wanted to get stronger to protect her. That simple fact seemed to hit her; the next day, she was back at training without a single complaint.
Of course, her exercises are less intense than mine, due to her age. But even though she wanted to follow my example, she ended up collapsing while trying to lift wagon wheels. I still remember it: she yelled for us to help her, but we just smiled as we watched her struggle. Kids? Yes, probably. Does it bother us? No, not at all. In a family, you act differently. Even Vesemir, the oldest and wisest among us, laughed along with us.
But honestly, training isn't easy. Sometimes, I feel the frustration, especially when Ciri makes such quick progress or when my own body reaches its limits. In those moments, I remember why I'm doing all this. In a past life, I dreamed for a long time of being able to fight, to protect myself and those I love. Now, that dream has become a very real challenge.
After a particularly difficult training session, I found Ciri, tired as well and maybe a bit discouraged. I took a moment to sit beside her and tell her a story from my previous life, where I dreamed of great adventures and travels while stuck between four walls. I didn't share all the details, but she got the point: if I can keep going despite everything, so can she.
Our days are packed, and our routines are well-established. My training includes sword handling, strength training, and cardio with Geralt. He has me running around Kaer Morhen in the snow, often before the sun even rises. For muscle training, he has me moving stone blocks to fill gaps in the walls. Then, there are the lessons with Vesemir, where he tells us about creatures. He explained the difference between an alghoul and a ghoul, which I found fascinating. Then comes learning about herbs and potions. Sometimes, I wonder if Vesemir just wants to use me as a guinea pig, because he makes me chew herbs without ever telling me what they are, watching closely to see my reaction.
The worst part is waking up. I never know what time it is, but running in the freezing winter night, half-asleep, with wolves howling in the distance isn't exactly a stroll in the park.
"Come on, Vesemir's cooking tonight."
"YES!" I exclaimed.
"What? You don't like my cooking?" Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, it's not that, it's just... well, it's different," I replied, trying to keep a straight face.
"Oh? Different how, exactly?"
"Geralt, when I say 'simmer,' what does that mean to you?"
He shrugged, a small smirk forming. "Igni?"
"That's the problem!" Ciri burst out laughing. "You burn everything, every single time!"
"Nobody's ever satisfied around here," he grumbled, though I could see his smile.
We went inside, and I have to admit, I'm still not used to these high ceilings. This place really feels like a mythical fortress. Yet, stepping into the great hall, I can't help but feel a strange sense of familiarity, as if this place were a distant memory. It's true; I'd seen it before, but in another life, through a screen. Seeing Kaer Morhen for real is an indescribable feeling. The snow covering the outside sometimes reminds me of the sterile whiteness of hospital sheets... but here, that whiteness is a symbol of freedom, strength, and challenges.
Today, Kaer Morhen feels far more welcoming than before. At first, there were cobwebs everywhere, and the place was a mess, but now, it feels like a real home. A large table stands in the middle, a handmade fireplace has been installed, with pipes leading outside to vent the smoke. And, at Ciri's request, even some homemade showers were added. I even suggested a few ideas to make life more comfortable in the keep, like a sheltered spot to protect firewood from the snow and organizing weapons based on training needs.
"There you are! So, how was it?" Vesemir asked, smiling.
"Still just as good, Grandpa Vesemir."
"Calling me grandpa makes me feel old," he sighed.
But his smile betrayed his pride. I sat down next to Ciri, who launched into an indignant rant about her day, complaining about the lessons.
"You know they're necessary," I reminded her.
"I know, but it's so boring! And if I don't answer a question right, they reduce my meat portion. REDUCED, can you believe it!"
"Oh no, that's serious," I replied, laughing.
After dinner, Vesemir sometimes invites us to stay and listen to his stories of adventure. He tells us about his encounters with monsters, ancient legends, and tales of witchers. These moments have become almost sacred, like a ritual. It's as if he's passing down his wisdom to us, a connection I've never had with anyone before.
That night, after everyone else had gone to bed, I decided to sit outside under the stars to meditate, thinking back on the journey I'd taken. This moment of calm, after a day filled with pain and exhaustion, felt almost sacred. It's here, under the open sky, that I truly realize how lucky I am to finally be here, at Kaer Morhen, with a family.
----------------------
Watching Ciri and Aiden bicker, I couldn't help but smile. Despite the grueling training, those two still had boundless energy and a spirit of adventure. It reminded me of a distant past, memories of witcher companions almost forgotten. My smile faded, however, when I heard Vesemir's deep voice behind me.
"Incredible, those kids, aren't they?" he murmured thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?" I asked, turning my head toward him, intrigued.
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed that those two are... special. Not like other kids."
"Yes, I agree, but I can't quite put my finger on what makes them so unique."
"Come, let me show you something." He gestured for me to follow, and I did without hesitation.
He led me to a small storage area for plants at the back of Kaer Morhen. Seeing the plants before me, I felt a shock.
"These flowers..." I murmured.
Vesemir nodded, his expression serious. "They only grow thanks to Elder Blood."
"The line of Lara Dorren..." I whispered. "It's impossible. Her bloodline disappeared."
"And yet..." Vesemir gestured slowly toward the flowers. "The proof is right here. And that's not all. Follow me."
In silence, I followed him through Kaer Morhen's dim corridors. The walls seemed to echo under our footsteps, as if the keep itself held a secret, an ancient power waiting to be revealed. When we reached a dark room, Vesemir opened a barrel and showed me plants that, this time, radiated a different kind of energy.
"Look closely," he said softly.
I approached and examined the petals. Two of them were normal colors, but the other two were strange: one was pure white, and the other was coated in frost.
"This power... it's rare and strange," Vesemir murmured. "Some might even say dangerous."
A chill ran through me. "Do you think Aiden could also be connected to Elder Blood?"
Vesemir nodded slowly, his gaze intense. "There's something in him... an ancient cold, an icy energy. I can't explain it. But he's different."
I looked at him in silence, my thoughts swirling. I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of worry. What if this power consumed them? What if this Elder Blood, this so-called gift, turned into a curse? That thought haunted me. In my life, I'd learned that power came at a price. And I was terrified at the thought of them having to pay it.
I looked at Vesemir, feeling the weight on my shoulders grow heavier. Since Aiden had told me he saw me as a father, I'd taken the time to reflect on our bond. I'd always kept a certain emotional distance from those around me, even those I was close to. But with Aiden, it was different. For him, and for Ciri, I couldn't keep hiding from the truth. They'd become my family.
Did this role of protector bother me? No, quite the opposite. I felt like I was experiencing emotions I'd ignored for too long. And if those emotions made me more human, then I was ready to embrace them.
I turned to Vesemir, my expression resolute. "I'll protect them, no matter what. Even if entire kingdoms stand against us. They'll have to go through me first."
Vesemir nodded, and I saw a glint of pride in his eyes. "Are you sure of this promise, Geralt? Promises... they bind the soul, like love or hatred. Are you prepared to keep this one, no matter the cost?"
"Yes," I replied without a moment's hesitation. "Without a shadow of a doubt."
He placed a supportive hand on my shoulder. "Then you have my backing."
"Thank you, Vesemir."
"Don't worry, I want to see where their path leads as much as you do. But for that, we'll have to double their training." He cracked a rare smile. "It's time to turn them into true warriors."
I smiled, amused by the passion driving him. "Vesemir, you're smiling."
"It's been a long time since I've felt a new purpose. I finally feel like I'm doing something that matters," he admitted.
He turned to join the two children, who immediately stopped in their tracks upon seeing him arrive. They started apologizing, and I couldn't hold back a slight laugh. I looked up at the moon, bright and solitary in the dark sky. It seemed to be watching over us, like an ancient, silent ally. Beneath its light, I made a silent promise: as long as I had breath, I'd protect their future.