Chapter 3: Kaer Morhen

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Three days of travel through the dense, mist-shrouded forest had worn on Harry's nerves, but slowly, he began to feel a wary sense of calm around Geralt. Trust was something he had learned to give carefully, if at all, but Geralt was different. The Witcher kept a respectful silence as they moved, only speaking when necessary and allowing Harry the space he needed. Geralt's sharp gaze often darted to him, assessing, not in judgment but in a way that hinted at understanding.

Harry hadn't said much about his life before. When Geralt had first asked, he had simply offered his name, a single piece of himself. And yet, he felt that Geralt was somehow aware of the unspoken weight he carried, though he never pushed for more.

As they neared their destination, Harry finally asked, "So, where exactly is Kaer Morhen?"

Geralt looked back over his shoulder, the glint of amusement in his yellow eyes. "You'll know it when you see it."

Soon after, a towering, ancient fortress emerged in the distance, its stone walls standing defiantly against the encroaching wilderness. Kaer Morhen had a rugged beauty, nestled in the mountains with walls covered in creeping ivy, towering and formidable. There was something both haunting and comforting about it, a place of both hardship and survival. As they approached the front gate, Harry felt his heart quicken, a tension creeping back into his muscles.

They entered the fortress gates, and an older man stood waiting, his figure solid and unwavering. His silver-white hair was swept back, and his piercing, yellow-slitted eyes were every bit as calculating as Geralt's, though his gaze carried the weight of experience. He was shorter than Geralt, his body broader and thicker set, with a no-nonsense air that made Harry instinctively tighten his grip on his wand.

The man's sharp eyes took in Harry's stance, his hand resting on his wand, and his fierce, defensive glare. His lips tightened, and Harry noted the intensity in the man's gaze, which only heightened his wariness.

"Who's this?" The older man's voice was gruff, with a hint of suspicion. His eyes didn't leave Harry's.

Geralt's voice was calm but held a warning. "His name's Harry," he said, leveling a firm look at the man. "And he's with me, Vesemir."

Vesemir's frown deepened, and he crossed his arms, sizing Harry up in silence. "A random child? Here?" Vesemir's tone was skeptical. "What's going on, Geralt? Why have you brought him to the keep?"

"Let's just say it's not a simple story," Geralt replied, glancing over at Harry, who was still eyeing Vesemir with cautious distrust. "I found him in the forest. He killed a striga by himself—using magic."

Vesemir raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering back to Harry with renewed interest. "Magic?"

"Not like anything I've seen," Geralt said, his tone carrying a note of concern. "And I don't think he's… from here."

Vesemir's calculating gaze bored into Harry's, searching, testing. Harry held his stare, refusing to look away, his defenses up, though the man's shrewd expression gave him little comfort. Finally, Vesemir smirked and turned, gesturing toward the fortress. "Well, come on in then, boy. If we're going to help you, we'll need to know exactly what happened to you."

Harry's grip on his wand relaxed slightly, though he stayed close to Geralt, keeping Vesemir in his line of sight as they walked deeper into the fortress. The inside of Kaer Morhen was as ancient as its exterior, filled with shadowed corridors, high vaulted ceilings, and walls lined with old weapons and training equipment. Harry took it all in, his gaze sharp and observant.

In the center of one of the larger rooms, Vesemir motioned to a large wooden table. Geralt gave Harry a reassuring nod, gesturing for him to sit. Slowly, he lowered himself into a seat, the two Witchers taking their own places across from him. Geralt leaned forward, his expression softer now, almost fatherly.

"Who are you really?" Geralt asked gently. "And where are you from?"

Harry paused, searching their faces before finally answering. He took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts, then began to tell them his story—the prophecy, his parents' murder, his years at Hogwarts, and the final battle with Voldemort. He watched their faces as he spoke, their expressions shifting from intrigue to disbelief, and finally to a silent, thoughtful acceptance.

When he finished, a thick silence settled over the room. Vesemir's frown was deep, and his gaze held a trace of skepticism.

"So," Vesemir said slowly, folding his arms, "how do we know you're telling the truth?"

Harry's face hardened, his frustration building. "What do you want me to do?" he replied, his voice edged with annoyance.

"Prove it," Vesemir said, his tone quiet but firm.

Harry glared at him, clenching his jaw. "Well, how am I supposed to do that?"

Vesemir's eyes narrowed slightly, and he leaned forward. "Since you're from another world with magic, it should be different from ours."

Before Harry could react or let suspicion settle in, Geralt intervened, his voice calm and reassuring. "I believe him." He looked back at Vesemir, his expression steady. "I've seen his magic. It's different from anything I've encountered. When Yen uses magic, there's always a chant, an incantation." He turned back to Harry, his gaze intense. "But Harry… he didn't say a word. He just—"

Geralt paused, his voice trailing off as if the memory itself unsettled him. "He hit that thing with… something. Something dark. It was as if he hit it with—Death."

In that moment, as the word fell from Geralt's lips, Harry felt a chilling whisper slip through his mind, a voice he knew all too well. "Death?" it echoed, laced with a faint, mocking chuckle, a voice only he could hear.

Harry's pulse quickened, but he forced himself to stay composed. Geralt, oblivious to Death's presence, continued, "I don't understand it, but I know what I saw."

Vesemir's eyes widened slightly, shock flickering across his face before he regained his composure. "Are you sure of this, Geralt?"

Geralt nodded, his voice steady. "I trust him. He's a good kid, Vesemir. He just needs… our help."

A resigned sigh escaped Vesemir as he fixed Harry with a long, piercing stare. Harry met his gaze, unflinching, his green eyes hard with a quiet menace. Vesemir's lips twitched into a slight smirk. "Broody brat, aren't you?" he teased, amusement lacing his words.

Harry sneered in response, the corner of his mouth curling with disdain as he looked away, refusing to engage.

Ignoring the attitude, Vesemir leaned forward, his expression turning serious once more. "Do you want to get stronger?" His voice held a challenge. "Do you want to survive?"

Harry's gaze snapped back to him, his expression fierce. "I've survived much worse than anything in this world…" He paused, his young voice hardening with determination. "But yes—I want strength."

Vesemir and Geralt exchanged a look, something silent and knowing passing between them before Vesemir chuckled softly, shaking his head. "He's all yours, Geralt."

Turning back to Harry, Geralt leaned forward, his tone gentle yet firm. "You've got magic. That much is clear," he said ruefully. "But we're not sorcerers—we can't teach you about that. What I can teach you, though, is the way of the Witcher—the way of the sword. If you want to survive here… I can show you how to fight like me. Fight like a Witcher."

Harry's green eyes gleamed with a fierce intensity. "Will I become stronger?" he asked, his voice a quiet but steely demand.

A smirk played on Geralt's lips. "When we're through with you, yes. You'll be stronger than you ever thought possible." He paused, his expression turning serious. "But be warned—the way of the Witcher isn't easy. Our training will break you… if you let it. Can you handle that?"

Harry held his gaze, the hard edge of determination in his eyes unwavering. "Yes," he said simply, his voice steady. His expression was one of steely resolve—a look that spoke of a boy who had faced death countless times and emerged, scarred but unbroken.

Geralt's smirk widened, a spark of respect lighting his eyes. "Then let's begin."

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Another chapter down, thanks to all of you gor the support and this story will not be updated until monday so stay tuned for the next chapters of A Hero's Wish, God bless all of you.