🔹 The Season of Steel
The days blurred into seasons. The seasons into scars.
Snow fell, melted, returned again. The training never stopped. It only changed shape—growing harder, heavier, sharper. Like the two boys who endured it.
Cain trained under Geralt.
Callum trained under Lambert.
And in a way neither would admit, they trained against each other.
🔹 Cain and Geralt
Geralt was many things: quiet, deliberate, sometimes intimidating. But as a teacher?
Brutal. Honest. Precise.
Cain respected that.
Their morning sessions began with drills—hundreds of them. Parry, feint, riposte. Over and over. Until Cain's arms burned and his muscles shook.
"Again," Geralt would say.
And Cain would obey. No complaints. No breaks.
But sparring? That was where Cain struggled.
Even with his new reflexes, Geralt was faster. Cleaner. His strikes came from impossible angles. Cain learned pain intimately—sweeping leg trips, wrist locks, sword tips at his throat.
More than once, he hit the ground hard enough to rattle his teeth.
"Stop thinking in patterns," Geralt said one morning after disarming him for the fifth time. "I can hear your strategy before you move."
Cain exhaled, sweat dripping down his brow. "I thought I was unpredictable."
"You're predictable in clever ways," Geralt replied. "That's worse."
But Cain learned fast.
By the third month, he was adapting. Timing his parries better. Anticipating Geralt's habits—not just the strikes, but the intentions behind them.
Then came Signs.
Aard. Igni. Quen. Yrden. Axii.
Cain struggled at first—channeling magic required a unique rhythm. But once he stopped trying to force it and let instinct flow?
He advanced quickly.
Geralt noticed.
[Skill Progression – Signs: Basic > Intermediate]
Aard (Force): Effective range and impact force increased
Igni (Flame): Small bursts now ignite flammable material
Quen (Shield): Duration extended by 0.5 seconds
Passive Unlocked: Sign Memory Sync – Switching Signs costs less focus
"Where'd you learn to focus like that?" Geralt asked after Cain stopped a flying training dummy with a perfectly timed Aard.
Cain only smirked. "Trial of the Grasses. Taught me pain makes a good teacher."
Geralt gave a rare nod. "You've got talent, Cain. But talent won't save you out there."
"I know," Cain said, calm. "That's why I'm still learning."
🔹 Callum and Lambert
Training under Lambert was like sparring with a knife that insulted you the whole time.
Callum, ever the optimist, took it with a grin. But even his patience wore thin some days.
Lambert didn't hold back. He punished overconfidence, mocked hesitation, and hated poor footwork.
"You don't dance with ghouls," he barked. "You put them down. Efficiently. Clean. You're a Witcher, not a ballroom prince."
And yet... he favored Callum.
Because Callum adapted. Fast.
He would fall in one session, then counter the same move the next. His style was fluid, unpredictable, and emotionally controlled. Even Lambert—grudgingly—admitted it.
"Kid fights like water in a blade," he told Eskel once. "Annoying. But impressive."
Signs came slower for Callum. He didn't struggle, but his casting lacked Cain's raw precision. Still, his Aard could blow a man off his feet, and his Quen saved his life more than once in mock battles.
But Cain watched. Learned. And remembered.
They sparred almost every night—Cain and Callum—trying new techniques, pushing each other further.
It became a game: who would land the final blow.
More often than not, it was a draw.
But even when Cain won, he limped away impressed.
Callum's counters were smooth, and his instincts were terrifyingly fast. He could read momentum like a book.
🔹 The Brotherhood Grows
As the year passed, they both changed.
Cain's silver-white hair grew longer, his features sharper, inhuman. His cat-like eyes could see at night as clearly as day. He was colder now—controlled, not unfeeling.
Callum's muscles broadened, his movements more confident. He was warm to others, but fierce in combat. Still kind. Still smiling. But every strike held weight now. A man forged from pressure.
🔹 One Night – Reflection and Rivalry
Sitting near the fire, weapons cleaned, training robes torn and stained, Cain stretched his sore arms and looked at Callum.
"You ever think about how much we've changed?" he asked.
Callum sipped from a tin cup. "Every time I block one of your swings."
Cain chuckled. "Fair."
There was a pause.
"You're not the same person from that snowy alley," Callum said. "But you're still you."
Cain nodded slowly. "Same goes for you."
They bumped shoulders. No more words needed.
[Trait Progression: Brothers on the Path – Advanced]
Bond Strength: High
+15% joint training gains
+4% parry/evade rate when fighting alongside each other
New Trait: Twin Tempo – Each successful parry by one increases the other's counter-attack window by 1.2s
They were becoming something great together.
Not just witchers in training.
But a storm with two blades.
And the world wouldn't be ready for what came next.