Several days passed while Cain and Callum remained unconscious.
Their bodies lay still upon the beds in the stone chamber, but stillness was a lie. Beneath their skin, within their blood, deep in the marrow of their bones and nerves of their skin, the Witcher mutagens continued it's merciless work. The Trial of the Grasses had not ended when the screaming stopped. It had only finished saying hello.
For four days, the boys drifted in a state between death and sleep.
Their bodies ran through violent cycles without mercy. One moment Cain would be slick with sweat, heat pouring off him so intensely that the sheets beneath him had to be changed. The next he would convulse so hard with cold that his teeth clattered even in unconsciousness, the muscles in his jaw and throat visibly tightening and releasing as if his body had forgotten how to exist without pain.
Callum had suffered the same.
At times the boy would go so rigid beneath the blankets that the tendons in his neck stood out like cords. Other times he would thrash in broken little bursts, his face twisted, breath coming in rough and shallow. Both boys ran fevers so severe that Geralt and Coën had to carry fresh water and cloths to them again and again.
Aiag remained present through all of it, seated or standing in eerie silence, her watchful amber eyes missing nothing. She would apply medicine and tend to the boys as needed.
Cain knew none of that clearly at first, to him, there was only darkness. Then another sensation came, a wrenching rise into waking. He shot upright so suddenly that the restraints caught him hard and stopped him mid-motion.
The leather restraints bit into his wrists and chest. The force snapped his head back slightly, and for one disorienting second Cain didn't know where he was. His breath came fast, shallow, panicked, his sharpened senses catching too much at once, the smell of stale sweat, old blood, lamp oil, dried herbs, damp wool, and the mineral stone scent.
Then memory slammed back into place. That's right Cain, your at Kaer Morhen. Your in the middle of the Trial of Grasses. The mutagens caused so much pain and agony. I thought I was gonna die several times over. I wanted to so many times just from the pain
My eyes widened, and then I saw her approaching. The Druid. But this time I saw her clearly.
There was no delirium fogging my sight now. No fever-drowned blur. She was unmistakably elven, more so than ever. Her beauty was the kind that made human prettiness seem coarse by comparison. Her long silky black hair framed a face with severe grace. Her amber eyes were bright in the dim chamber, they were unreadable and cold. There was no softness in her expression, but neither was there cruelty.
Aiag stopped at the bedside and studied Cain closely. "Boy," she said. "Do you know who you are?"
Cain swallowed against a throat that felt dry enough to crack. "Yes. My name is Cain"
"And where you are?"
"At Kaer Morhen." His voice came out rough. "At the School of the Wolf."
Aiag's gaze stayed fixed on him another second longer before she nodded once. She lifted one hand and made a small, precise motion in the air.
The restraints came undone.
"Sit up slowly," she said.
I obeyed. The second I moved fully upright, my head swam and my stomach rolled with a deep, sick warning, but still I forced myself to breathe through it. The Druid then placed a waterskin into my hands.
"Drink," she said. "Slowly."
He obeyed immediately. The moment the water touched his lips, Cain felt half-alive again.
It was cold, clean, and painfully good. The first swallow burned his throat in the best possible way. The second made his whole body seem to remember what living was. By the third, he genuinely thought it might be the greatest thing he had ever tasted.
Then another voice, ragged and dry, came from the bed beside him.
"You mind sharing some, Cain? I'm dying of thirst."
Cain turned to see Callum was awake. Or at least conscious.
The boy looked terrible. He was pale beneath the smudges and stains left behind by the Trial, his face hollowed, lips dry, emerald eyes half-lidded and exhausted. But there was still that familiar trace of a smile on his face, stubborn and somehow still alive after everything.
The druid moved to him immediately and performed the same checks she had done on me. Checking Callum's eyes, his breathing, and to see if he was sane. Once she seemed satisfied, she released his restraints as well and helped him sit before letting him drink.
Callum groaned softly after the first swallow. "Oh, gods," he muttered. "That's incredible."
Aiag stepped back from both boys and regarded them in silence before finally speaking. "You are both fortunate to be alive. even though I don't know what good is it to be half elves and mutants."
Cain lowered the waterskin slightly. He knew she was right. Callum could have passed for Human and been fine, but with him Cain will have a even bigger target on his back. Not that he didn't understand before going through with this whole damn process.
"Thank you, miss…?" he asked.
Her eyes shifted to him.
"Aiag. You may call me Druid Aiag." Then her tone hardened a fraction. "And do not thank me, boy. I am fulfilling a debt. Nothing more."
Cain took that in, then asked, "A debt? To who?"
Aiag ignored the question completely. Instead, she looked at him with a strange intensity that made him sit a little straighter despite the weakness in his limbs.
"Who are you, Cain?"
He blinked.
"What do you mean?"
Aiag tilted her head slightly. "I have never seen an elf like you. Full-blooded, half-blooded, or otherwise. You carry… something strange. Something old. Something I have not felt in a very long time, but it's different."
My thoughts went immediately to the sealed trait. Is she talking about my Elder Blood? Is she sensing that? Wait can she sense that?
I kept my expression as still as he could and said aloud, "I don't know myself. I woke up one day with no memories except my name. The Witcher's found me, took me in, and… the rest is history."
That was close enough to the truth to be useful, and far enough from the whole of it to say I was lying.
Aiag looked at Cain with open distrust now. Not accusation exactly. More like the wary interest of someone who believed he was hiding something, even if she could not yet see it clearly.
Before she could say more, Callum spoke up. "Can we eat now? I'm starving."
Aiag breathed out slowly through her nose.
I chuckled weakly despite everything. Callum, somehow, was still Callum, and that was comforting as well as strange. At the same time, Cain noticed something else, something subtler than thirst or hunger.
Something felt… off.
He didn't feel sick, and it wasn't the weak feeling exactly. But something about him was definitely Different.
It was like someone had turned down the volume on certain parts of him. The pain in his body was there, but distant like it didn't bother him as much. The fear and anxiety that should have been clawing at him after everything that had happened felt muted.
My hunger, thirst, confusion, anxiety all of them, I still had felt all of them, but not in the overwhelming way he remembered from before. This life or my past one. It was as if I was inside his body, fully aware, but everything was far away from me.
I looked down at my hands, turning them slightly, is this the mutation? Then another thought followed immediately, or is this my Cold Blooded trait?
Maybe it wasn't just a system description. Maybe it was already shaping how my mind processed stress. I knew the Witcher mutations didn't get rid of one feelings, but sometimes dampened, and suppressed them. I can still feel the same emotions as everyone but to a less degree. It feels a bit like a gift and a curse.
That's when Aiag spoke again, cutting into my thoughts.
"No. Neither of you can have solid food yet." She folded her hands into the sleeves of her dark robe. "Your bodies have only just stabilized enough to wake. If I give you solid food now, your stomachs may go into shock."
Cain blinked. "How long were we out?"
"Three days," Aiag said.
Callum groaned. "Only three?"
Aiag ignored the tone and continued. "I placed a barrier over your senses to dull them. It has kept them close to what they were before the Trial. But when I remove it, or if you leave this chamber without doing so, you will be overwhelmed."
Cain and Callum looked at each other. Giving each other a knowing look that said we been through worse.
Callum sighed first. "It's going to suck either way."
Cain nodded. "Might as well get it over with."
Aiag looked unimpressed. "As you wish. Do not say I did not warn you."
She snapped her fingers.
The world changed instantly. Cain nearly fell over from overstimulation. Smell hit him first, not one but dozens. No, hundreds.
The wax in the candles. Burnt oil. Hot metal. Blood old and fresh. Dried vomit and shit. The bitter herbs Aiag had used to cleanse the room. The sharp scent of the druid herself, earth, bark, cold leaves, smoke, some floral oil so faint he wouldn't have noticed it before. He smelled himself. Callum. Even the traces of the mutagenic process seemed to linger like ghosts in the air.
Then vision crashed into him. The lamplight and candles became too bright. The edges sharpened too fast.
Details burst into clarity so violently his eyes squinted shut on instinct. The grain in the wood. The texture of cloth. Fine cracks in stone. Reflections in the metal fittings of the beds. Tiny movements in flame. Even the dust itself.
Then sound followed, It all became too loud.
The wick hiss of the lamps. The creak of Aiag's robes. Callum's breathing. The distant groan of Kaer Morhen's old bones. The drip of water somewhere beyond the chamber. A faint shift of boots outside the room. The beating of his own heart.
Callum made a broken noise of pain and clutched at the side of his head. While Cain wasn't far behind.
Then the chamber door opened and Vesemir stepped in. "Oh," he said, taking in the scene. "They're awake."
Aiag replied, "Yes. They are adjusting to their heightened senses. Give them a moment. I will go outside and prepare the ritual."
Vesemir nodded as Aiag left silently as she had come. For several long minutes, Cain and Callum sat in the chamber breathing through the overwhelming flood of new input.
Vesemir crouched in front of them, his voice lower and steadier than usual. "Listen to me, boys" he said. "Focus on my voice, not the sounds. Only me."
Cain tried but it was hard. It felt like forcing his mind through a storm sounds just to find the quietest one. But he locked onto Vesemir's voice and held on. The older Witcher kept speaking in that same calm tone.
"Good. Just like that, focus on just my voice. Let the rest pass around you. It does not matter right now. Only what I'm saying."
Callum followed too, though Cain could tell it was just as brutal for him. Minute by minute, their minds found a little order inside the chaos. They didn't control, but it was enough for now.
Eventually Cain could look at Vesemir's face without feeling like the detail in it was trying to cut through his eyes. He could hear the man clearly without every other sound demanding equal attention.
Vesemir gave a small approving nod. "Good," he said. "You both passed the Trial of the Grasses."
I swallowed. The words felt bigger now that I was awake enough to truly understand them.
Vesemir's expression then shifted. "But you do not have time to rest. Not yet. Now comes the Trial of Dreams."
That got Cain's full attention immediately. And just like that, Geralt and Coën entered and helped guide the boys out of the chamber.
Cain's legs were unsteady, but they held. Callum leaned more heavily on Coën than Cain did on Geralt, though neither boy complained. They were brought through the keep to a makeshift ritual space prepared in the rear of Kaer Morhen. The cold hit them again once they passed into the open-air section of the keep, though now Cain could smell every stone, every iron fitting, every ghost of old smoke buried in the fortress walls.
At the back of the keep, a rough altar space had been prepared. It was not the polished chamber of a temple or mage's sanctum.
Circles had been drawn into the ground with ash, chalk, and what looked like powdered herbs. Small bowls of burning incense ringed the perimeter, releasing thick streams of strange smoke that curled into the winter air. There were carved branches laid in patterns Cain did not recognize, bones tied in bundles with twine, and several stone markers inscribed with symbols that made his eyes want to follow them and his mind recoil at the same time.
Aiag stood at the center of it all. She was mixing something in a shallow black bowl while chanting in a language Cain did not recognize.
As the chant rose and fell, the system window appeared again.
System Notification: New Quest Unlocked
Rare Ranked Quest: Trial of Dreams
Objective: Take the Trial of Dreams and survive.
Rewards: 2 Rare-ranked items. +3 to all attributes
I stared at it only briefly. I did not need another death warning to understand the stakes. Not that the quest gave me one. It knew as wells as I did, that I had to take this trial.
The Trial of Dreams was part of the process to stabilize my mutations. If I refused now, I wouldn't escape the consequences. The mutations begun in the Grasses would remain incomplete. If what I knew from lore and what Vesemir had said was true, refusing at this stage could leave him broken, insane, or force the Witcher's to put me down.
Vesemir stepped forward and addressed both boys.
"Listen carefully boys. The Trial of Dreams completes what the Grasses began. With Druid Aiag's help, you both will be placed into a deep trance-like state. You will see things, visions, vivid illusions, memories, and nightmares. Some may feel real enough to swallow you whole."
His eyes moved between them.
"You must remember that they are not real. Hold on to yourselves. Hold on to your names, your purpose, your will. If you lose that, the trial may break you."
Cain and Callum nodded. "Yes, sir," they said together.
Then Callum, because of course it was Callum, asked, "When this is over, can I have some food?"
The question was so ordinary, so absurdly Callum, that even Cain almost laughed. Even Vesemir chuckled. A small one, but very real.
"I'm glad to see you're still yourself," he said. "Yes. When this is done, I'll get you food. Eskel and Lambert are out hunting now. One deer especially for you."
Callum's face brightened, and before Cain could process it, the red-haired boy stepped in and hugged Vesemir. The old Witcher looked caught off guard but not displeased.
Then Callum stepped back. "Thanks Vesemir."
Vesemir nodded and then looked to Cain. "How are you doing Cain?"
Cain considered the question honestly. Besides my emotions feeling lessened, I am relatively. I felt like who I was in my past life, but my emotions won't get stirred so easily now.
"I am fine," I said, my face remained still. "But I am tired. So we can get this trial over with."
Vesemir nodded. "Agreed."
Callum and Cain were seated within the ritual circle. Aiag came to each of them and fed them a dark liquid so bitter it made the earlier teas feel almost tame by comparison. Then she placed a thick censor of incense between them and instructed them to inhale deeply.
The smoke smelled strange but not unpleasant. But it was impossible to place. It was like pine resin, moonlight, old rain, and something metallic all at once.
Around them, Geralt, Coën, and Vesemir remained close, each in a meditative kneel with their weapons within arm's reach.
Cain took another breath of the incense. Then another. The edges of the world softened. The cold around him had lessened and the light dimmed.
The chanting grew distant, and then his mind slipped. Cain felt himself falling. There was no ground beneath him. Only the sensation of drifting downward through blackness so complete it swallowed all shape and sound. Cain's first instinct was panic.
Then he forced it down and began to think. If this was the Trial of Dreams, then he needed something stable and real. Something that belonged only to him and could center him. His mind latched onto the obvious answer.
The system. The instant he reached for it, the translucent blue panel appeared before him in the black void. Cain's descent stopped and he was standing in the void.
I breathed as I floated in the void. Now able to take hold of my mind, but there was still nothing and no one around me. Just the light of the system screen.
I looked at the screen, thinking now was the perfect time to see what his updated states and traits were like.
Status Window
Name: Cain
Age: 9
Race: Half-Elf (Mutant)
Bloodline Trait: Elder Blood (Sealed)
Class: None
Attributes:
Constitution: 42
Strength: 40
Dexterity: 41
Wisdom: 43
Intelligence: 45
Charisma: 42
Luck: Unknown
Mana: 22
Ability Points: 13
Attribute Points: 0
Abilities & Skills:
Wolf Pack (Rare)
Swordsmanship (Level 5)
Meditation (Level 4)
Poison Resistance Level 3 (Common)
Mind's Eye Level 4 (Common)
Limit Break Level 1 (Common)
Charm Resistance Level 10 (Legendary) Max
Traits:
Cold Blooded (Rare)
I stared at the screen for a moment Then I focused at the one thing that mattered most in that moment.
My bloodline trait. The Elder Blood.
My eyes narrowed. Now, of all times, it felt more important than ever to question the system and who is behind it. Because, why do I have this, and how do I have it?
Was Cain's body descended from Lara Dorren somehow? Was this some altered version of the experiment that created her? Some hidden bloodline tied to another branch? Or was the system overlaying something onto him rather than simply revealing it?
He focused on the trait and clicked it. A new window opened immediately.
Bloodline Trait: Elder Blood (Sealed)
To remove the seal, 10 Ability Points are required.
[Accept / Decline]
Cain's eyes widened.
Wait. I can unlock it now?
I know I had saved ability points for years, mostly because I didn't know what future abilities or class requirements might demand them. But now I guess had the answer hanging in front of me of what to use them for. Honestly I can't tell if the system or whoever is behind it, is baiting me or is this destiny.
But Cain hesitated.
This was huge and I shouldn't rush my decision. Once I did this, there was no taking it back. If I truly awakened the Elder Blood in me then a whole list of problems could follow. Eventually the Wild Hunt might come looking for me like they did Ciri. Every sorcerer and sorceresses that finds out about me, would experiment and carve me apart to replicate my power. Not to mention this power might be unstable and dangerous. Monsters will be attracted to me like a beacon.
And yet… I was in the Trial of Dreams. All of this felt to much like a coincidence. This probably was the test I needed to overcome.
Cain sighed. This feels more like cosmic manipulation, then just a choice beneath the choice. Something tells me if I didn't act now, I may be stuck here and die. But If I do I can leave this world at some point.
I thought of all of it for only a few seconds, then I mentally clicked [Accept].
That's when the void around Cain pulsed. Outside Cain's mind, his body began to rise from the ritual circle without touching the ground.
Magical power burst from him in a violent surge of pale white light and vibrated the air with great force. The snow and ash around the ritual space blew outward in a spiraling shockwave. Geralt, Vesemir, and Coën threw up Quen barriers almost at once. Their barriers flaring to life around them. Even Aiag recoiled, one hand raised as barrier surrounded her and Callum, her eyes wide in genuine shock.
"Hen Ichaer," she whispered.
While inside the void, notifications flooded Cain's vision.
System Notification: You have awakened the Elder Blood that slumbered inside you.
Bloodline Trait: Elder Blood (Legendary)
A primal divine power recreated with the unity of an ancient elven sage (Unknown) and the Unicorn's Boon.
Effect (Passive): You are the Traveler of the Omniverse. All of space and time are open to you. Once you take your first step.
Cain's breath caught. Wait traveler of the Omniverse? What the hell?
But before I could even begin to unpack that, another notification came.
Skill Achieved: Warp Level 1 (Common)
Effect: You can teleport 10 feet at a time in any space around you.
Then another.
Skill Achieved: Chronomancy Level 1 (Common)
Effect: You are able to alter or control your own or another's time.
Outside, the magical pressure from Cain intensified again. The circle flared blindingly bright. The censers shattered. Aiag was forced back a full step, her expression turning from shock into outright alarm. Callum, in the trance was enveloped by a translucent barrier the druid threw around him instinctively.
Inside the void, the system kept going.
System Notification: Your body is radiating magical energy.
Effect: Mana Attribute: 22 → 35
Cain stared. This is insane, not only had I gained the warp skill like Ciri, but chronomancy too. This was beyond anything I had expected. Chronomancy is not some simple spell. Normally it's a class in D&D. But if the description paints it simply as a spell means I have a whole category of power.
I can think of a number of things I can do with a spell like this. But I barely had time to appreciate it before a feeling crept over me.
I felt like I was being watched. I then dismissed the window and looked around the black void around me. But their was nothing and no one around me.
That's when I looked up and froze from what I saw.
Two giant golden eyes hung above him, vast beyond measure, encompassing the entire void as if the endless void itself were only a fragment of something much larger. They didn't seem hostile, but they seemed aware in a way that made Cain feel terribly small and powerless.
Then Cain heard a voice. It was feminine and sweet, it seemed to carry a slight echoe as it spoke words.
"I did not foresee this."
Before I could speak, a white light shone in the distance, it rushed toward me. No, more like expanded over me until I was consumed by it. It felt some what cold but in a comforting way.
The next thing I knew, I was sitting upright with a gasp, back in the ritual space. Around me, the world was a chaos of light, and frost, and.
Aiag stood several feet away from me with one arm raised as though shielding herself. Geralt, Coën, and Vesemir all had their swords drawn, not at me exactly, but in defense. Callum laid under a translucent barrier, blinking in dazed confusion.
I looked from one face to another. Then asked, very calmly despite the confusion clawing at my thoughts,
"What happened? Why is everyone looking at me?"