I opened my eyes to the cold darkness.
Something wet and ice-crusted pressed against my back, I had hoped it was just mud. It felt like the whole world around me was unbearably cold. I began to notice my surroundings at a moment once my eyes adjusted.
A large narrow alley way that looked like something out of a medieval movie. It was pitch black with a cloudy night sky, there were no stars from what I could see.
It was beginning to become hard to think. My head felt foggy and my body felt weak and cold. Just what the hell happened to me?
Snow began to drift through the narrow alley in soft, relentless sheets, carried by a cruel wind that howled between the buildings. I had just noticed that I was naked and shaking. With my bare skin against frozen earth. My teeth chattered so hard it hurt.
For one terrible moment, I couldn't breathe.
I managed to make it past the moment and managed to move my body. "What the hell was happening? Where am I?
My heart slammed against my ribs as I tried to push myself up, and that was when the first wave of panic truly hit. My arms were too small. My hands, my hands were tiny. Child-sized. My fingers looked wrong, too thin, too short, too delicate. I stared at them in disbelief, my breath fogging in front of my face.
"No. No, no, no. What's going on?" I said trying to make sense of my current situation.
I tried to sit up too fast and nearly slipped on the mix of slush, mud, and old refuse beneath me. The cold bit deeper, crawling into my bones. I sucked in a sharp breath that burned my throat and chest.
Think.
Think.
But my thoughts came in flashes instead of answers.
My names Jasen, I'm 30 years old. I was somewhere doing something. Then more flashes came to his mind
A room. Face. Sounds of music.
These were the memories of a life. My life to be exact.
I remember who I am which is good, but what happened to me is the real question. I don't remember the last the thing I did or how I even got here. As I try to search my memories everything else felt distant and fractured, like no matter how much I tried I wouldn't find the answers.
I hope this is just one bad dream, even though this freezing cold is feeling to real for it to be a dream.
Not to mention this body was so weird. It was small and weak like haven't eaten for days weak. I wonder who was this kid, he seemed quite young.
As another powerful cold breeze past me, I hugged myself and curled tighter, trying to preserve whatever little heat I had left. My skin was numb in some places and burning in others. My ears, fingers, and toes were hurting like crazy.
My lips were so cold and dry I could feel them cracking as I shivered. I opened my mouth to call for help, but all that came out was a broken little whimper, thin and pathetic and swallowed by the wind.
I kept trying to call out but no one answered.
I tried again to stand. My legs trembled violently beneath me. I made it halfway up, then hit the wall with one hand and slid back down.
I felt fear started to turn ugly inside my chest, then the chilling thought appeared in my mind.
I'm going to die here. Afraid, cold, naked, weak , and alone. The thought came uninvited, sharp and immediate. I don't know where I am. I don't know what happened. I don't know why I'm in a child's body, naked in the snow, and I'm going to die in some alley like a stray dog before I even understand what the fuck was going on.
I calmed myself down and began to steady myself. Calm down Jasen, this isn't your first time being up shit creek without a paddle. But it is your craziest one yet.
Remember what the Marines taught you. I need to assess my surroundings. Find shelter. Maintain a calm and adaptive mentality. Secure a source of food, and gather intel so I can create a plan.
Then that's when I heard something moving in the dark.
At first I thought it was just the shifting shadow of the falling snow. Then I saw a large figure, it was long, and lean in a wrong way. It clung too closely to the wall as it moved, as though it had poured itself out of the darkness rather than stepped from it. Another shape followed. Then another.
My breath caught when I saw them. Two points of red appeared first. I saw what looked like a bat-like faces, with large ears, and long fangs. It it's hands is what looked like a person and blood was spilling from its mouth and the person.
What the fuck is that, my mind screamed before it froze for half a heartbeat before instinct screamed.
RUN!
I stumbled backward on numb feet. My heel slipped. I caught myself on the wall. The creature came closer, and now I could hear it the low scrape of claws against stone, the wet click of teeth, the faint hiss of it still being hungry.
A weak spill of moonlight shined down on it. It showed one the thing's mouth curled into something that looked horribly like a smile.
My body locked up as my heart was pounding in my chest like crazy. I couldn't move the the terror paralyzed me.
Then It lunged towards me.
I fell backward hard, too scared to even scream. All I saw were claws and red eyes and a mouth opening wider than it should have.
Then right when I thought everything was over. A silver flashed through the dark. A blade cut through night as the moonlight glinted over it in one brilliant sweep.
I heard a wet smack as hot blood sprayed across the snow.
The creature body convulsed and slump to the ground in front of me. Its head hit the frozen ground with a dull thud. Red eyes went still.
Silence followed so suddenly it felt unreal.
I just stared at the severed monster head in front of me. My heart was still pounding so hard. My breaths came in short, frantic bursts. The dead thing twitched once, then lay still, it's blood spreading black-red across the white snow.
And standing over it was a man in a cloak.
He was tall. Broad-shouldered. Sword in his hand.
The blade was long and pale in the moonlight, silver-bright, and blood ran down it in dark rivulets. Snowflakes landed on his shoulders and in his hair. Hair that was milky white, thick and straight and hanging to his shoulders. His skin was pale, his face was rugged, one side cut by a long pale line. his eyes were fierce and striking. Yellow cat-like eyes. Around his neck hung a wolf's-head medallion that glinted faintly in the moon light.
One look was all it took. That's Geralt of Goddam Rivia.
This is weird, why is the white wolf standing right in front of me. And why does he look like Henry Cavil from that god awful show?
This is so insane I could almost laugh from the sheer absurdity of this. Only I was too scared to laugh. I was also too cold, confused, and to busy trying not to fall apart from everything that just happened.
Then a translucent blue panel blinked into existence in front of my eyes. I flinched so hard I nearly threw myself backward again. The panel floated in the air, clear and impossible, visible only to me.
White words formed in neat glowing letters.
STATUS WINDOW
Name: Cain
Age: 6
Race: Half-elf (half human, half elven)
Class: None
Attributes:
Constitution: 5
Strength: 4
Dexterity: 4
Wisdom: 10
Intelligence: 8
Charisma: 6
Luck: Unknown
I just stared at it....My mind went blank for a moment, then it all came to me.
What the fuck is this...?
Why is there a status window like from a RPG floating in front of me. What the hell is this some kind so shitty isekai. And why is my name Cain?
My name is Jasen. But after a moment my wild thoughts snapped into place, like suddenly everything made more sense.
No....my name was Jasen, key word being was. The thought chilled me more deeply than the snow ever could.
I looked down at my tiny hands again. At my thin arms. At the soft brown skin that resembled my old skin color, but I knew wasn't mine. I lifted a trembling hand toward my face and felt tears on my cheeks I hadn't even realized were there.
I transmigrated into the body of this boy into the Witcher world. I'm Cain now, but why. Why did this happen, how did this happen?
Then another realization hit me.
The window said my race was Half-elf. I lifted one shaky hand to the side of my head and brushed my ear they were pointed. Not fully, just slightly, but it enough to distinguish me from a normal human.
Oh god I'm a half-elf in the Witcher universe. Half-elfs are basically the black people of the Witcher world. Most humans don't like them, and majority of what remains of the full blooded elfs don't like them either.
I was already black in my past life, now it's like that times ten here. Which also begs the question of my skin. My skin color was a rich light coco brown. Not that I mind, I actually like it, but I feel like this will put a giant target on my back more since I was a half elf.
No. No, this is insane. Completely insane. And yet Geralt of Rivia was standing over a dead monster in a snow-filled alley while a game-like status window floated in front of me. At a certain point, I knew denial stopped being useful.
I was here and the pain made the hardest case that this was all real. Somehow, impossibly, I was here. And I was trapped in the body of a six-year-old boy.
A tear slid down my face. I wiped it away quickly, ashamed of how helpless I felt, but the truth was I was terrified. Thirty years of life, memories, instinct, and self-awareness all trapped inside a freezing naked child's body that could barely stand. My thoughts were that of a adult but my body wasn't. It was one of the worst feelings I had ever experienced, being fully aware of how vulnerable I was and having no real way to fight it.
That's when Geralt knelt in front of me his face passing through the status window.
So he can't see the status window
Up close, he was even more real. His face was worn and rough, his eyes sharp and alert, his expression serious in a way that somehow didn't feel cruel. He looked young well younger then the version from the show or the games.
He moved with the kind of careful control and pulled off a heavy wool cloak and wrapped it around my shoulders. The warmth nearly broke me.
The cloak smelled like damp leather, horse, and pine. It was scratchy against my bare skin, but it blocked the wind immediately, and for the first time since waking up, I felt something other than pain and panic.
"You alright kid," he said quietly.
His voice was low and rough, but not unkind.
"What's a half elf child doing naked in the middle of a alley?"
I tried to answer, but my lips were cracked and stiff. All that came out was a shaky breath. He looked me over quickly, eyes flicking to my arms, legs, ribs, throat, checking for wounds. Then his gaze shifted to the dead creature at my feet.
"Take your time kid and breath. Your in shock from the monster. don't worry it won't hurt." He said trying to calm me down.
"Odd. I never seen a elf like you before half or full blooded." he muttered more to himself than to me.
"Cain.... My name is Cain, and I don't know how I got here sir. I don't even know really who I am besides my name and I believe I am six years old."
I swallowed hard after forcing myself to say all that and then looked at the thing lying dead in the snow.
Geralt then looked down at me. His eyes were cold and he wore a stoic expression on his face. He looked at me like he was trying to examine me and the words I said.
"Well Cain. I better get you out of here and find your family, but first we better get you some clothes. Can't have you walking around in the cold, you will die at this rate."
A sharp female voice cut through the silence.
"What's all this, then?"
I jerked toward the mouth of the alley.
A stout looking peasant woman stood there holding a lantern, her face red from the cold, wrapped in layered wool and fur. She squinted at us, then at the dead monster, then finally at me. Her expression shifted from suspicion to irritation to surprise in quick succession.
"You're the noise I heard?" she demanded. "A naked bairn in this weather? Gods above, boy, are you trying to die?"
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
But Geralt answered for me. "He was attacked," he said. "I got here in time and slaid the monster. I'm the Witcher the village mayor hired."
The woman came closer, her lantern swinging, and the light fell fully across me. Her gaze caught on my face.
"He's elf-blood, I 've never seen one with that skin, that hair or those eyes" she said flatly.
I felt myself shrink without meaning to. The cloak suddenly didn't feel big enough. My body trembled again, partly from the cold, partly from the look in her eyes. But what did she mean by she hasn't seen one with my hair or eyes before, even Geralt made a similar comment.
Geralt didn't move. "Yes he's a half-elf so what of it." He said evenly
The woman clicked her tongue and muttered something under her breath that I didn't fully catch, but the tone alone told me enough. Disgust. That familiar ugly sign of open prejudice was all to familiar.
I looked down.
Even knowing the Witcher world, even remembering the hatred humans could have for elves and dwarves and anyone not fully one of them, it still hit harder when it was aimed at me so openly. Especially when I'm like this. Small. Weak and helpless.
"I said," the woman snapped after a moment, "I heard a child. Didn't expect to find this."
Geralt's hand rested near his sword pommel, not threatening, just present.
"You also said you'd help me should I ask earlier," he replied. "And right now, I need some help for the boy."
She stared at him for another second. Then she huffed sharply through her nose. "I am helping," she grumbled. " Come on before the brat freezes to death."
She turned and beckoned toward the main street. "Inn's still warm. Come on."
Geralt rose, and then, to my surprise, lifted me without effort. For one disorienting second, my brain rebelled. I was a grown man and I'm being carried like a child. Which technically I was. My body sagged into the warmth anyway, I was too exhausted to protest.
I hated how natural it felt and how I needed it.
The inn was only a short walk away, though it felt longer through the snow and wind. Geralt kept the cloak wrapped tight around me as we stepped inside.
Warmth hit me in a wave.
The room was snug and low-ceilinged, all dark beams and old wood, lit by firelight and candles. The smell of roasting meat, stale ale, smoke, damp wool, and stew filled the air. Conversation faltered as heads turned toward us. A few patrons looked at Geralt with the usual caution reserved for witchers. Then they noticed me. My face was mostly covered by the cloak.
An older innkeeper woman with flour on her hands came around the counter. "By Melitele," she said, startled. "What happened?"
"Monster attack," Geralt said. "Found him in the alley about to be attacked by it. I slayed the monster and saved him. The boy doesn't remember much apart from his name. You wouldn't happen to know who his parent's or relatives might be? "
The innkeeper frowned, looking me over. " What's your name, boy?"
My throat worked uselessly for a second. "I…" My voice cracked. "Cain."
The innkeeper glanced at Geralt.
"He remembers that much," Geralt said. "Not much else."
That part, at least, was true enough. I remembered who I was. I just didn't know what had happened to me. Didn't know why I was here, why I was in this body, a status window existed, why I had woken up in the snow with no memory of anything that had happened before that exact moment.
The innkeeper's expression softened.
"Poor thing," she murmured. "Sit him by the fire."
Geralt set me down gently on a bench near the hearth. The heat licked against my face and hands. It hurt at first the painful sting of feeling coming back, but I welcomed it anyway. I tucked my feet up under me and held the cloak close.
The woman disappeared behind a curtain and came back with clothes bundled in her arms. "These were my grandson's," she said. "He's outgrown them."
Then she stopped abruptly as she took a better look at me. The cloak wasn't covering most of my face anymore.
And the softness left her expression for a moment. " He's an elf," she muttered.
There it was again. I lowered my eyes. Not because I was ashamed of what I was I didn't even know how to feel about that yet, but because I already understood I was in no position to challenge anyone about anything.
Geralt's voice cut in before the silence could stretch.
"You offered the boy clothes."
The innkeeper clicked her tongue. " Aye I did."
She tossed the bundle onto the bench beside me. "And I meant it. Gods know I'm not letting a child freeze just because he's got pointed ears. I was just surprised is all."
It wasn't kindness exactly, but it was enough. "Thank you, ma'am," I said quietly.
She looked at me for a second, maybe surprised by my manners, then nodded once. "Get dressed in that room." she pointed towards a door next to hearth.
I went to the room and put the clothes on. The fit just right enough with some room to breathe and move. A thick shirt. linen trousers. A wool vest. No shoes that fit, so I stayed barefoot for now. The fabric scratched against my skin, but it was dry and warm, and I could have cried from gratitude.
By the time I sat back down, the innkeeper was already setting a steaming bowl in front of me and Geralt.
"Eat the both of you. Then be on your way. The least I can do for you Witcher."
Geralt nodded. "Appreciated"
The smell hit me first. I smelled vegetables and could see the salted meat in the broth. There was some bread to the side. I hadn't realized just how hungry I was until that exact moment. My stomach clenched hard enough to hurt.
I picked up the spoon with shaking fingers and took a cautious sip.
It was hot and nearly burned my tongue. It wasn't tasty compared to the modern day food I was use to. But to a starving boy it was the most rich and savory food I ever had.
The broth tasted like carrots, onion, turnip, and salted meat. It flooded warmth straight through my body. I had to close my eyes for a second. It was just soup, just simple village food, but in that moment it tasted better than anything I'd ever had.
Across from me, Geralt sat down with his own bowl.
"Taste good?" he asked.
I swallowed and nodded quickly. "So good."
It came out rough and barely louder than a whisper.
I kept eating, slower now, trying not to look as desperate as I felt. Even in this body, some part of me still clung stubbornly to old habits, to manners, to dignity. It was ridiculous and probably invisible to everyone but me, but it mattered anyway.
The innkeeper leaned against the nearby table. "Do you remember anything?" she asked. "Parents? Village? How you ended up here?"
The question struck like a stone dropped into still water.
I hesitated. How was I supposed to answer that?
Yes, actually, I remember being a thirty-year-old man from another world who woke up in the body of a child.
"No I don't remember, anything" I said softly. "Not really."
That was true too, in its own way. I don't know anything about Cain's life. Not a single piece of it.
Then Geralt spoke and saved me from having to explain further.
"He knows his name," he said. "Says he's six. The rest is blank." The innkeeper sighed through her nose. "Strange." Then, after a beat, "Still the boy has his health and a appetite. The rest doesn't matter for tonight. Maybe the mayor will be able to help. But last time I checked this village has never had any elf's or humans that look like him here."
She then pushed the bread basket toward me. I took a piece, murmuring another thank you, and dipped it into the broth.
As I ate, feeling slowly returned to my fingers. The terrible shivering eased. Color returned to my skin. My thoughts, while still chaotic, became less jagged. And in that fragile calm, reality of my situation finally had space to settle.
I don't how I was in the Witcher world, but I should look for a way to get home when I get a chance. Hopefully there is a way to get back home.
All I have to go off is the system window. Maybe I can examine it later to see what it offers me.
I continue to eat my soup. As I tried to figure out how I was gonna survive this world. That's when Geralt spoke quietly with the innkeeper while I listened.
" After he finishes eating were gonna head to the mayor. The monster I killed It was a Katakan a young one, from the look of it."
My grip on the spoon tightened slightly.
He said Katakan.
I remember them from the games. A higher vampire variant. Their fast and deadly. And if that was what had nearly gotten me in the alley, then I had survived by blind, impossible luck. I really need to grow stronger if I'm gonna l'm be stuck here in the backwater world for god knows how long.
As if summoned by the thought, the system interface appeared before my eyes.
System Notification: New Quest Availabe
Common Ranked Quest:Survival in the New World
Objective: Survive your first night in this new world.
Reward: 1 Rare Equipment Chest
[Accept / Decline]
Warning: Declining this quest will lead to you death.
I nearly choked on the soup as my eyes widened. No one reacted to the panel. Which confirmed it, no one could the interface window but me.
This was a quest window a real quest window. It's a common rank to, that must mean the level of difficulty of the quest. And the rewards say rare, I wonder what's in the chest. And that warning at the bottom made my stomach turn over.
Declining the quest will lead to my death.
It wasn't even pretending to be subtle. I stared at the choices for half a second, then mentally reached toward the obvious answer.
I mentally clicked [Accept].
Then the panel vanished instantly. I sat very still, spoon halfway to my mouth. A game system, quest's. Rewards and even a threat of death if I don't take a quest.
I should have been more shocked than I already was, but I felt like I had passed some invisible threshold a while ago. Now each new impossibility just stacked on top of the last one until they became their own awful kind of normal.
I should be on guard about this system. If it will threaten me with death for now accepting a quest, I should take that some god or higher being is probably manipulating it to send me down a path. That would also means whoever they are. I am basically on a dog leash due to the system.
I will just have to watch myself and make sure to use the system without completely relying on it.
That's when Geralt looked at me.
"You all right?"
I realized I had frozen.
"Yes," I said quickly. Too quickly. Then, forcing myself to calm down, I added, "Just tired."
His gaze lingered on me for a second, sharp and unreadable, then he nodded.
Fair enough.
When I finished the first bowl, the innkeeper silently refilled it.
I looked up in surprise.
"Eat," she said again, but more gently this time.
"Thank you."
Geralt reached for his coin pouch when the meal was done, but the woman shook her head.
"No. Take care of the boy first."
He paused. "I will but you should be paid."
"You killed the monster, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Then that's enough. Us around here in a no village at the border of Dol Blathanna know how to thank those who help us." Her eyes flicked briefly toward me. " Whether they be a mutant or whatever."
For the first time, something close to real warmth touched Geralt's face.
"Thank you," he said.
Geralt then stood and adjusted his gear. "We should go," he said. "The mayor will want to hear the contract's done."
I wanted to stay in that inn forever. Or at least until my brain caught up to reality. But I nodded anyway.
Outside, the cold hit hard, though not as cruelly as before. Now I had proper clothes, a blanket, and Geralt's cloak around my shoulders. Snow was falling harder, thick flakes swirling through the lamplight.
Geralt led me to his horse.
The mare snorted softly, breath steaming in the cold. Geralt lifted me into the saddle and wrapped the blanket more securely around me.
"All right, lad," he said. "Hold on."
I did. I also noticed the head of the monster attached to the saddles rear.
My legs didn't even come close to the stirrups. My whole body fit awkwardly against the front of the saddle, my hands small around the leather. Again, that disorienting clash struck me adult thoughts in a child's shape. I knew how ridiculous I looked. I knew how vulnerable I was. I knew that if Geralt weren't here, I would probably already be dead.
That last thought humbled me fast.
At the edge of the village, near a great bonfire, two guards stood watch in chainmail and furs. Beyond them stood the mayor.
He was older man, thickly built, wrapped in a heavy cloak, a leather flask in one hand. Firelight painted his face in orange and shadow. He turned when he saw us approach.
" Ahh Witcher," he said. "You're back."
Geralt dismounted and helped me down.
"The problem's dealt with," he said. " It was Katakan that was killing the villagers"
The mayor exhaled. "Gods be praised."
Then he looked at me.
"Who's this boy?"
"Found him in the alley," Geralt said. "Says his name is Cain. Claims he remembers nothing. figured you might know."
The mayor took a torch from one of the guards and stepped closer.
I fought the urge to shrink back.
The light fell across my face. He studied me for a long moment carefully.
" What is your name child?" he asked.
"Cain, sir" I said softly.
He nodded slowly, then lowered the torch. "I've been mayor here for many years," he said. "And I've never seen this boy before in my life. No elves live in this village. No half-elves either. And no one here has that boys hair, skin or eye color from around here."
One of the guards muttered something about stray blood, but the mayor silenced him with a look. Then he faced Geralt again and handed over a pouch of coin.
"Your reward," he said. "And extra, for the speed of it."
Geralt took it with a brief nod. "Thank you."
The mayor glanced at me again, then sighed. "Looks like the boy wandered here around the time the monster came through. Or was left. Either way, he's no one from this village."
My stomach twisted at the word left. Was Cain abandoned or had he been running away? What had something happened before I woke up?
I had no answers. Nothing before that alley. No parents. No home. No history. Just my original memories and this body's name.
The mayor's voice softened slightly. "For tonight," he said, "we'll see that he's warm."
I looked at Geralt.
"What happens now?" I asked before I could stop myself.
The question sounded too small in my own ears. The mayor looked at Geralt, then back at me.
"That depends," he said. "If no one claims you, and if no one knows where you came from…" He exhaled slowly. "Then someone will have to decide what comes next."
The answer wasn't comforting, but it was honest. Geralt rested a hand lightly between my shoulder blades.
"First," he said, "we get out of the cold."
The mayor gave a tired nod. "There's a town a few miles ahead. Better inn there ."
Then he looked at Geralt and said, "Not many remember the old ways. Not many remember what Witchers were supposed to be. But I do. Safe roads to you, Witcher ."
Geralt inclined his head.
We left soon after that.
Back on the horse, wrapped in blanket and cloak, I leaned into the warmth and tried to process everything.