I am, at the very least, attempting the impossible. I am implementing a SI/OC into the world of The Witcher as well as a crossover with Harry Potter. This will be more focused on the SI/OC and then the characters of Harry Potter later on since she is born first. I know it sounds immensely confusing, but just hang with me here. There are a couple of other things to note as well before indulging in this story.
To answer a quick future question: No, she does not have knowledge of the Witcher's world. Also, polygamy pairing of Geralt/SI-OC/Yenneer. Second pairing with Harry Potter/Ciri
There are some incredibly dark themes in this story— especially in the first chapter. You have been warned here.
The storyline starts off when the character is a child, I'm not going to just skip the entire process of her becoming a Witcher, as the story's title is called the Witcheress. I have done hours of research on this subject and will not put it to waste. Since most of the information about the creation of a Witcher is unclear, some of the processes might be non-canon. In other words, an interpretation of my own.
Enjoy and I hope I don't scare anybody off with this oddity of a story or the first chapter.
Childhood Arc I: Burn, Butcher, Burn
"Don't play with fire if you are not willing to burn."
— quotesvibes
People called her the whore's daughter. The truth is, they are not wrong.
If you asked the people around Oxenfurt, they would call her an aborted survivor because whores did not keep children. But if you asked the other children she played with on the street, her name was Nolani. The adults looked at her disgustingly like she was some germ, but she honestly did not give a shit. She learned to stop giving people her shits long ago. Besides, life is too short to hand out free shits. She would know considering she had died once before.
Who she used to be isn't important, but what is important is the knowledge she carried from her past life. She died during her surgical residency, and the things she knew from it was useless in the body of a mere child. There wasn't much she could do with medical knowledge without the proper tools and shitty child-like hand-eye coordination. The most she had ever done in this life was spare a piece of bread for a beggar. Besides, playing with the other street children, she slept on the kitchen floor while her mother sold her body for coins in the straw bed.
Hey, whatever brings in coin to put a roof over their head, Nolani wouldn't judge. She knows how shitty the world can be from seeing the defiling corpses and starving children when she went out. She wasn't new to seeing people die. She used to help the general surgeons in surgery and occasionally they lost a patient to circumstance but seeing starved ones poked her anger. This fucking kingdom couldn't spare the time or money to actually help these people? Fucking monarchs.
Sadly, in Oxenfurt's slums, it's survival of the fittest.
Whores fucked, men worked until they dropped, and children fought for crumbs.
The slums were not a good place to stay at night. Nolani would find out the hard way.
There's a certain timeframe where men, sometimes women sought out whores. Typically, it was between sundown and the beginning of the night. Nolani knew better than to arrive back home any later than those times. She had learned to tell time after years of calculating it with the sun.
The slums were filled with rundown houses, vines wrapped around the outside, cracks in the stone pathways, and streets that were hard enough to navigate through the thin lighting the slums provided. The witching hours were ticking near. This was the time were fetishes were praised and morals are thrown out the windows. If she didn't hurry back, she was fucked. Literally. Even children are victims of rape here, but nobody saw that as 'rape' here, only work.
She seethed a breath straight through her teeth as the fear slowly bled through her system. It was dark, not horridly dark, but dim. Few street lamps were lit during this time. The only light came from homes or the bars. The creeps of Oxenfurt were starting to peep out from their drunken headquarters— the bar.
Her pale brown eyes peered in every direction, trying to locate the correct way through her panicked mind. In one corner, she saw a woman standing outside her home giving her a sinister wave of good luck. In another, there was a man in a knight's uniform exploring himself in another's mouth. Across from that, there was a lucid gaze from a young girl like her being dragged into the dark path of an alley. Gulping, she forced herself to turn her head. If there was one thing that let her live this long, it was minding her own business no matter how horrid the situation of the other person was.
A cold loathing expression sneered across her face— guilt, sorrow, and hatred for the predators in this defiled city.
Nolani keeps walking. She is only eight.
Not even a full block later, talon hands snatch her arm, proceeding to drag her into an alley. She tries to run, but the calloused hand is too tight around her forearm. Brown eyes look up at the nameless assaulter, gazing into his soul-snatching blue ones and muffled curly brown hair— mahogany-colored, a shade lighter than her own. His hair was charmingly touseled, but in another time and place, he would be considered handsome. Now, all she can see is a dirt rag piece of scum wearing the false skin of a human.
"You're a pretty thing, who do ya work for?"
She bites her lip. His words plunge a deep hatred in her for him.
"I'm not for sale," Nolani spits out coldly.
Laughing, he runs a finger on the right side of her chin. Brown eyes glare at that finger, imagining it between her teeth as she bites it. Her spine stiffens as his glimmering ocean blue eyes glimmer darker with a predatory lock on her. Plans run through her head like a train. She imagines her foot digging into his mouth and a scenario where she is stabbing him with a sword that appeared out of thin air. It's the only thing keeping her from breaking down. What could she do in the body of a small child? Absolutely fucking nothing.
Her guts sink to the ground as if she was on the drop of a rollercoaster the moment he pulls her deep into the dirty alleyway. She kicks and screams as the dim-lit streets disappear. He swings her into the brick wall of a building. Her back throbbed as a nasty bruise began to form.
"Shut it, you child whore," he barks at her.
Tears begin to flow down Nolani's cheeks as he forcibly pressed their bodies together as if they were in a warm hug. His hand began to drift from her back down to the back of her dress as he lifts it up cop a feel of her underwear. No matter how hard her struggles came, it seemed to feed his disgusting ego. Her body is lifted from behind as his leg travels between her thighs. Her arms are smashed between their chests as her head rests on his shoulder. She felt the heated breath from his mouth ghost down her neck, sending shivers down her spine.
The world seemed to freeze for a moment when she caught the sight of the side of his neck— sternocleidomastoideus, scalenus anterior, and the scalenus medius. No matter how strong someone was, the neck was a vulnerable spot. Then she realized that this might be her only chance to escape.
Her mouth opens with a wide crack and then she clamps down hard. Flesh sinks beneath her teeth as blood draws into her mouth. Through her panting breath, bubbles of blood pop, splattering blood onto her face. She felt his hand dive into her hair, pulling strands out for her to let go of his neck, but she refuses. Her teeth are like hooks, searing into the mouth of the fish. His pained grunts feel like music to her ears, but it's not enough. Until the man turned into a screaming fit, she began to creep her fingers through the wound, opening it as far as she can through the strength the high adrenaline gave her. They wrapped at the edge of his neck wound and began to rip the flesh apart. A river of blood began to pour down her fragile sewn dress. His hand sunk from her hair, down to the sides of his hips. She felt his body lurch backward and even as he went unconscious from the pain. Still, she didn't stop.
Her mind thought of the girl from earlier— she used that to keep ripping. His body hit the ground, as she released her victim with a glob of flesh and blood in her mouth. She spat it out and cracked her jaw open. Then she shook her head back and forth like a rabid dog to seer another chunk off from the other side of his neck. She repeated the same procedure to sink her fingers into the wound. She would make sure he would bleed enough to die— in her mind, she was simply taking out the trash.
She spat out more flesh from the second bite, panting like an animal as she straddled his chest, and wiped a hand across her mouth. She looked at the blood on the back of her hand, strangely proud of herself. Killing someone was certainly not something she like liked to do, but here, it's survival of the fittest. At least nobody would bother her on her way home with her current appearance. It's sad to think she would have to have blood on her to keep the predators away, but so be it. Fuck the morals, fuck this life, and fuck this world. If she wanted to survive, she was going to have to throw out the laws of her old life.
Now, she was high on the law of survival.
With her shaking legs, she got off the man's body and gave him an animalistic growl before leaving him.
She ignored the gazes of the adults. Most were too busy to even notice.
But at least she was safe.
(She was the only one watching her that night.)
Treyse is a witcher from the School of Cat, and one of the leaders of the traveling school. His caravan had settled and he had taken an assassination job in this area. He had completed the job, but then came across a mutilated scream of a man. Curiously, he went to check it out. There, a tiny ass girl was biting the shit out of a man ten times her size. At that moment, his mind thought back to his and the mage's conversation about the creation of female witchers. Throughout the years of experimentation, every female had fallen ill the moment they drink the mutagen tea. However, something seemed different about this one. She was spirited and fierce. No normal female would simply think to bite the neck of a man when getting harassed. Most would cry and beg for mercy.
The girl got up off the man, a dark glint cursing in her eyes as she spat on his corpse before leaving the scene.
What a sight to behold. Maybe, just maybe she might be the one to survive the trial of grasses. She was different from the rest— more suited for a morbid lifestyle. A smirk plastered onto his musky face as he silently followed the girl. Being an assassin made it so easy to not get noticed by people. The School of Cat focused on training their witchers with speed and flexibility for the risky bounty.
When the sun came up, he knocked on the door of the house the girl went into. A woman with red hair answered, his eyes leering down at the cleavage shown from her robe. She grinned at him. "Need an early mornin' fuck boy?"
"As much as I want to, no, I'm here for somethin' else. You got a Lil girl livin' here?"
"Ah, yes that shit. Nolani! Get yer ass in here!" The woman called out.
On cue, the girl from last night came out, dressed differently than last night. She wore a plain yellow dress with brown patches on the spots. Compared to the woman, she looked like trash, like the bitch doesn't care about her— "What do ya want with me daughter?"
He dug into his pockets, the sound of his coins bringing a smile to the mother's face. "How much?"
"You buyin' her for the day?"
"No, I want to keep her."
"Hmmm, that might cost ya, extra big man, hmm?" The woman purred.
The girl's eyes narrowed dangerously and then held a betrayed glance towards the woman. He handed the woman the coins and she grabbed Nolani by the arm and pushed her into him, slamming the door shut behind her.
The child growled, kicking the door. "What the fuck, you bitch!"
He cocked an eyebrow as the girl turned to him.
"Touch me and I will tear every ligament and nerve from your body, one by one with my fucking nails," she hissed.
"I have no interest in premature children."
She crossed her arms, baring her teeth. "Then what the fuck did you buy me for?"
"I'm going to train you."
"Too fucking do what?!"
"To become a witcher."
"What the fuck is that shit?!"
"Follow," he commanded as the child rolled her eyes.
"I guess it's better than living with that bitch," she concluded.
A witcher was someone who could fight monsters and kill humans, at least that's how Tyrese explained it. She could— would kill monsters for the coin, but was not going to become a human killer. Sure, she killed one, out of self-defense. He never told her how he became a witcher, but he did tell her that after she goes through these weird trials, she would become one.
She figures that if she knew how to fight, then she could have a future and maybe revolutionize the medical technology here and study about this weird fucking world. Maybe travel a bit.
But first, training with this old geezer. On their first day on foot, he outpaced her severely. He expected her to keep up with him with her stick legs and bad stamina.
"Hey, Tyrese or whatever, stop walking, I'm tired."
"You can't become a Witcher with your weak body," he pointed out.
"Tch, that's the thing. I am no Witcher yet," she blandly reminded.
"This is why I hate children."
"This is why I hate adults," she responded with the same venom, fully knowing that she was one herself, but only mentally. "Why are you so damn bitter? It's only been a day and you are already spitting paper balls of hate at me."
"Because you're annoying."
"So are you, so I guess that makes two of us."
He grumbled curses before stopping, then crouching in front of her. "Get on my back, it will be quicker this way."
She crossed her arms. "Why should I get on your back when it smells like ox balls and looks like a goat took a shit on it?"
He snorted. "You're going to get even dirtier training, dumbass— quite the mouth there for a lady, but your a whore's daughter no less. I shouldn't have expected much."
"Bet."
"What?"
"It means I agree with you."
"Is that the new slang you kids are chatting about these days?" He chuckled as she crawled onto his back.
Her small fingers laced together around his neck, tightly as he hoisted her up before taking off in a sprint towards Dyn Marv.
By the time they got there, the sun was beginning to set. Nolani was pretty happy to see the countryside of things. The city was too polluted by drunkards and shitheads. Here, fields were broad and full of nature. Being a surgical resident didn't allow her to see much of the countryside. Most medical schools were in the bigger cities and so were the hospitals they were assigned residency to. She had lived most of her old life on the outskirts of the bigger city, crawling her way up the food chain from the slums to become a doctor. Life was a bitch, and she knew that from both lives.
Dyn Marv was a big caravan that traveled nomadically across the lands. The whole thing was like a traditional camper; something that look a lot like settlers in the wild west used to use to travel with their families. A red-haired man in the standard school of the cat armor approached them from the back of the caravan. He moved the white curtain to get out and greet them. Nolani decided that he looked like a total badass, but what was up with his ears? Were they some kind of prop? Did this caravan also do plays as a side hobby? The redhead gave her a wary glance at her confused facial expression.
"What is this?" The man asked.
"Gezras, happy to see you again," Treyse greeted, sarcastically.
The redhead, the founder of the School of Cat, made Treyse a leader of this school who had gone off on a mission near a town to relieve himself and kill someone. He knew that this witcher had purposely taken a job near Oxenfurt's whore district for the sake of having fun, but why in elve's name did he bring back a child? A female child no less. He knew Treyse had some morals, but never knew he would stoop this low.
"No, it's not what you think," the other witcher stated upon studying the half-elf's expression. "She can be a candidate to become the first female witcher. Just how much fame and fortune would that bring our school?"
Nolani grabbed the back of his black-haired man bun. "Excuse me? The fuck? I am no trophy for nobody, you tree humper!"
The witcher seeth his teeth, throwing the child off his back. "Quit being a brat! This can bring fortune to both sides of the party!"
"How so? You use me to get money?"
"For fuck's sake, girl. You train as a witcher, make a life for yourself, or do you want to end up your mother?"
He has a point, Nolani mentally admitted. Where could she go in this unknown world? She did want to set up and settle down to continue her medical practices, but she can't do that without coin. Slaying monsters equaled coins that could get her to that point.
"You have a point."
"I always have a point," he snarled back.
"Why do you concede to argue with a child, Treyse?" the elf questioned. "I assumed she does not understand how one becomes a witcher?"
The human shook his head.
"It might be for the best," the elf admitted, then gave the girl a glance as she gave him a quizzed expression. "Why do you look at me with such a quizzed face?"
"Are your ears a prop you use to put on plays? Do I have to do that too when I become a witcher because you guys are so low on money?"
That was not the answer he was expecting. A child who grew up in a town very racist against his kind seemed to have no clue what he was. She must have grown up very sheltered from the outside world, but that wouldn't be the case if Treyse brought her back because he thought her to be suitable for their planned experiments. "Have you ever heard of elves?"
"The fuck?"
"I will take that as a no."
"So, your saying elves fucking exist?! Did I get imported into some fantasy video game?" She said, grasping the sides of her head in irritation. "Oh my lord, I wonder what else this world has to offer?"
She is an interesting case of crazy, the elf concluded. Crazy enough to become a witcher and survive the trial of dreams if her body was adapted enough to survive the first trial of grasses. She seemed to have somewhat of a more mature air around her due to her understanding of the conversation between the two witchers and the bigger words he threw into his sentences. The only thing poking the elf's mind is where she stood on the opinion of elven kind.
"You seem distraught that my kind exists," the elf pointed out.
"No, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that mythic creatures exist here..."
What a weird girl.
She continued: "Honestly, I think elves are pretty cool because they are different. In fact, I think I might like them better than my kind."
Also, weird in terms of speech, but what did he know about the children's slang these days? At least, she wasn't racist like most humans. He might even take a liking to her if she survives these trials— maybe even train her or teach her the language his kind spoke.
He smiled sincerely. "I guess we won't have a problem then. There are a lot of mismatched foes within my caravan. Treyse put her with the other boys."
"But she's a female."
"Doesn't matter, we treat her like all the other boys. She's chosen her destiny."
She boarded the other caravan where other boys were sitting. There were five of them. They all gave her odd glances, whispering to each other. At first, she forgot that she was living in a time where the majority of males, not all of them, didn't think much of females. That kind of behavior was very emitting in male children. She returned their eyes with an amused smirk. "Hey."
Taken aback, their whispers stopped like their bodies as she climbed into the wheeled vehicle. Some scooted more towards the back, she stomped seeing their sudden flinches back like she was some foreign entity. "Why are you guys so scared of a mere girl?"
A brown-haired boy around her age laughed nervously. "They are just awed by the presence of a beautiful lady."
She frowned. If he considered her beautiful, then he was wrong. Her hair was snarled, her dress smudged with dirt, and she smelled like ox balls. "You certainly have a strange definition of beautiful; I consider you as my definition of beautiful."
Taken aback, his eyebrow rose quizzingly. "W-what?"
The boy had curly brown hair, a cute face, bright green eyes, and a figure taller than her— he was beautiful in her definition.
"You heard me."
The boys behind him snickered.
"A-aha," he nervously laughed it off, holding out a hand. "Well, my name is Aiden."
Aiden, finally, a normal name that wasn't hard to pronounce.
Nolani giggled, deciding to mess with him. She took his hand as if she were a knight and kissed it on the top. The boy grew as red as her mother's fake blush. He swiped his hand from her and couldn't make out any words other than mumbles. She giggled in response. "My name is Nolani."
One of the boys from the back grew a pair and wrapped an arm around Aiden before greeting her with a smirk and gladding looking in his amber eyes. "The name is Jad Karadin."
"Nice to meet you, Jad."
"You ain't gonna kiss my hand?" He teased, gleefully grinning down at the shorter of the three.
She shook her head. "Nah, you look too manly for that."
He laughed, rubbing a sympathized hand on Aiden's mane of hair who began to pout.
"Don't take it the wrong way, Aiden. You might grow up to be really sexy."
In response, she got another blushed and splurge of incoherent words.
"The two pussys in the back are Ishit and Moise."
"Can you repeat the first name?" Nolani asked, holding back a laugh.
"Ishit?"
"As in like 'I-shit' myself?"
"Hey!" Ishit, the smallest of the group protested. "It's pronounced Ish-it!"
"I'll stick with I-shit," the mahogany-haired child decided, turning to Aiden. "Why don't you say something we can understand, dear Aiden, and tell us your story."
"My story?" He questioned.
"You know, how you got here yadayada," Nolani explained. "Considering this stupid caravan hasn't started to move until now, we have a long trip ahead of us."
They all sat in a circle, finally comfortable with each other.
"Alright, who's first?"
"I'll go!" Ishit volunteers, raising his hand childishly. "My father fucked a whore and got stuck with me until he sold me to a slave trader!"
"Wow," Jad whistled through his thin lips.
"That speaks volumes about why he named you I-shit," Nolani commented as his face turned into a growl. "Who's next?"
Aiden averted his eyes from Nolani and Jad.
"My parents died because of a monster and I followed one of the witchers here after watching him kill that monster," Moise blurted.
"You followed a witcher?" Nolani said with disbelief. "They have unbelievable stamina, so how the fuck?"
Jad raised an eyebrow. "Seems like that would tie to how you got here, what's your story?"
"Long story short, my mother is a shitty mother that sold me to a witcher who thought that I would be a good 'female' witcher or what the fuck that means."
Jad whistled. "I overheard some of the witchers talking about the females who have gone through the trials to become a witcher and all of them had died."
Trials? Treyse never said anything about trials. This must be what the elf was talking about when he said: "It might be for the best."
"You must be special then," the amber-eyed child continued. "Are you part of some sub-species like the elf witcher?"
"Nope— what the hell are these witcher trials though?"
"Not sure, but they must be intense if people die attempting them."
"Hey Aiden, what's your story?"
"I-I— I followed a witcher hereafter he cured my friend of a curse."
"Wow, so they even deal with the supernatural shit?" Jad asked excitedly. "I can't wait to become one."
